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stardustizuku · 2 months ago

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So, Gushing Over Magical Girls Is The Best Thing To Happen to Magical Girls

Gushing Over Magical Girls get this bad rep. For all the wrong reasons. I’ve seen it be called an insult to Magical Girls, I’ve seen it be called “gooner bait” a term I absolutely despise but that’s a thing for another day. I’ve seen it insulted for everything and anything under the sun.

I first got acquainted with it when I was scrolling through Twitter and I saw someone complain about the PV. However, as an avid Magical Girl Fan, I wasn’t disgusted. I was intrigued.

I decided to read the manga, and oh god.

This is one of the best things I’ve read.

The story follows Utena, a shy girl that loves Magical Girls, tricked to become the evil general that will defeat the Magical Girl team “Tres Magia”.

And it’s a delight.

I binged all the episodes available to me in the manga, and had fun in each and every chapter.

The same, however, couldn’t be said by half the people who watched the anime. And I was extremely baffled. As a queer woman, this was the first time in my life, in which I had seen something so deliberately catered towards me. I saw tell-tale signs of someone who genuinely admires the genre, and is simply using it as an outlet for exploring deeper and more interesting topics that a SFW version of it would not be able to.

Yet, I turn around and I see people calling it the most horrendous stuff, and accusing everyone who likes it of being monsters or men.

Genuinely, I’ve had enough.

Gushing Over Magical Girl is not the Devil. In fact, I think it’s the best thing to come don’t even like Magical Girls AND IT SHOWS.

PART 1: “Magical girls are for little girls!”.

The first criticism you’ll see aimed at “Gushing over Magical girl” is the amount of sexually charged content it has. And it is true. It borders on straight up porn in many instances and it just gets wilder as you go on. By chapter 30, we’re way past PantyShots. Like, I’ve seen some of these girls’ vaginas, and I’m not joking.

Personally, I don’t see anything wrong with it, but there’s people who might disagree.

“Magical Girls are for little girls” some people say “and you’re corrupting it!”

Which genuinely makes me laugh.

This is because this type of argument could only be done by someone with no real concept of Magical Girls aside from maybe Sailor Moon and Sakura Card Captor.

out of the Magical Girl genre in a WHILE (Ignoring Precure, because they just gave us a magical boy and that’s my win of the decade).

People are just, you know, stupid. And reactionary. Enough that they see a boob and lose their minds like a Karen at a Christmas Eve Mall.

My point is, I love this manga. And I’m willing to risk my reputation to defend it. Cause genuinely, half the people who are clutching their pearls over this show - Magical Girl Anime haven’t always been PG, or aimed at girls.

Cutie Honey is a great example. It’s one of the most famous Magical Girl Anime you will find - and it’s a shonen. With the protagonist, Honey, being constantly naked, groped, put in suggestive situations and have outfits that show her cleavage.

And it’s one of the most famous, most popular takes on Magical Girl there is. Yet, I never see any amount of outrage towards it. (Part of me wonders if it’s because the fan service is aimed at men, rather than involving yuri).

There’s also Lyrical Nanoha, one of the most popular serial franchises there is. It spans several seasons and spinoffs, and it’s beloved by many.

And it’s aimed at older men. Yes, it’s a Seinen.

In fact, its origins are far from PG. It’s actually a Spin-off of an erotic game named “Triangle Heart”. It was most definitely not created with little girls in mind, and themes it tackles reflect as much.

There’s Fate/kaleid liner Prisma Illya too, a spinoff of the Fate/Stay Night VN, very obviously aimed at older men, it’s a Seinen. It has a lot of fanservice and scenes where the characters are half naked.

Day Break Illusion is also a Shonen.

And as much as I adora Madoka - I’ve been stating for years now that it isn’t a show meant for little girls. You could argue it’s for everyone, regardless of gender, who’s a little older. But it most definitely wasn’t for little girls.

So, no. This was never an “only girls” club. Trying to paint it as such, is not only wrong but ignorant.

Magical Girl shows can be for anyone. Men, boys, girls, women and I find it infantilizing to consider it “only for little girls”.

No one says “super heroes are ONLY for little boys”

Well, some do. But they’re, you know, bigots. Who don’t want girls playing or adults o have fun.

So no, Gushing Over Magical Girls being a sexually charged anime in the Seinen category isn’t “corrupting the genre”. In fact, I would argue it’s doing exactly what the genre has done in the OVA shadows for a while.

Not to mention, many people have screamed from the rooftop how they want “more mature Magical Girl shows” referring to the success of Madoka. But as soon as an actually mature take on Magical Girls shows up, tackling issues of sexuality and love, you all don’t want it anymore.

(We all know why, though. Americans, and western culture in general, considers mature themes, only that which involves violence. Anything close to discussing issues of sex is no longer “mature” but “Pornographic” and deserving of being shoved into a corner. With all queer themes, gender studies, and any nuance that could be had regarding these issues).

And speaking of sexually charged, have you watched so called “wholesome” magical girls? They’re still very much sexy. Not in the “on the nose” ecchi way Seinen and Shonen are - but they still are.

You’ll find transformations were the girls are naked, zoom in to their breasts, you’ll have panty shots every now and then. Even themes of growing up, having crushes, and innuendos about sex. Inappropriate relationships, taboo romance, and the likes.

Sakura had Rita and a professor’s relationship (mutual in the manga), Sailor Moon had Chibiusa and Elliot’s romance, Sugar Sugar Rune even having an element for ‘lust’ and other different types of love, and let’s not forget Mermaid Melody which has several instances of the girls naked, in compromising positions with other men. And I’m pretty sure Tokyo Mew Mew likely opened a whole bunch of doors for girls to be into CNC.

This is, by the way, normal.

Completely so.

These stories often talk about the girlhood experience. And girls and teenage girls are interested in all of these things. They’re interested in sex, romance, their bodies growing up, their own sexuality and the likes. It’s no wonder same-sex relationships and romance get included, they’re part of what experiencing the world through the eyes of a young girl is like.

And subsequently, it stands to reason that as people who engaged with MG grow up - they find comfort in exploring their sexuality through Magical Girl themselves. There’s a reason why there’s a growing section of “Magical Girl” in your local hentai site.

“Men get off on corrupting this wholesome girl targeted genre” is actually TERF rhetoric sneaking through the mainstream. It ignores AFAB ppl and gender nonconforming people, who grew up with Magical Girls, simply using a medium that originally started their journey of sexual identity, to explore more “grown up” aspects of that same identity.

In particular, I’m a Cis AroAce Woman. I wrote a lot of Magical Girl NSFW when I first started writing NSFW Twitter threads. They’re bad and they’re cringey. But it was something I needed.

Magical Girls were a huge part of my childhood and early teens. When I was mentally in the space to want to engage with NSFW content: it was obvious I would turn to what first sparked excitement.

So this idea that “men are corrupting Magical Girls with their sick fantasies” is nothing more than TERF-lite propaganda. People, including women and men, have been doing this for ages; for a variety of reasons. And doing so, doesn’t rob children of their spaces - but the gentrification of the internet is a story of another day.

The other argument I have heard is that GOMG is a mockery of the genre. Which is even more laughable in my opinion.

PART 2: Parodies and why I hate Earth Defender’s Club.

Gushing Over Magical Girls loves Magical Girls. It’s a parody, in a way, but it knows very well what it parodies. It’s not surface level in the slightest. And it absolutely is not mean spirited about it.

A lot of the time, shows that reference and parody the Magical Girl genre, do so in ways that feel like they view it as a lesser genre. They take generic images of cute girls in frilly outfits, swap the colors around, and have them chant over-the-top spells. You’re meant to laugh, not only at how silly they look, but people who would love it. Especially if they’re grown ups.

I do not like “Cute High Earth Defense Club LOVE!” For this exact reason - even tho many people praise it to all heavens.

Because

1) It feels surface level in its commentary and depiction of Magical Girls and

2) More mocking towards the genre than paying homage or doing anything with it.

The continuous use of the word “Love” is a very obvious jab at Magical Girls using these words, which feels mean spirited just for the sake of it. Their outfits are almost exactly the same, save for the colors. And they all use the same sticks as weapon, with no thematic link for the shapes of the scepters. The mascot too (a wombat for god knows what reason), I think it’s meant to be a joke of some sort for how ridiculous some of the mascots for the girls get, which rubs me the wrong way.

In general, it feels shallow and mean spirited. But no one calls this an insult to Magical Girls. Because people who like it don't actually care about Magical Girls. They see cute boys doing silly things and love it. Which is kinda sad.

Now, Gushing Over Magical girls has sort of that same problem on the Tres Magias…But they’re not the protagonists. And even then, in later chapters, they get power ups that are different in design, and thematically linked.

The protagonist, and the ones we follow, are Utena and the girls. And they all have very distinct outfits, all with motifs that are tangentially thematically linked, and speak of each character’s personalities in interesting ways.

Utena in particular has THIS outfit. Which a lot of people don’t like, but I actually do.

It’s very obvious it’s taking inspo from other iconic Bad Girls in the genre. Namely, Utau, Kraehe and Devil Homura. All “Enemy characters” that have unhealthy obsessions with other characters. In particular, I think the wings and the feathers resemble Homura - THE character known to have a massive obsession with a Magical Girl (Madoka), to the point of insanity.

There’s also Magia Azure. Who’s a clear reference to the Mean Tsundere girl that is iconic to the genre. She’s also a Miko. Which is a callback to Sailor Mars, arguably THE girl who popularized this archetype.

I also love what they do with the mascots. Unlike Earth Defenders, where the mascot is you know, a mockery of the archetype of a mascot - useless, only there to give power ups, and obsessed with food - the mascots of GOMG is taking a book from Madoka.

It considers the mascots both all-too-powerful and yet limited in their reach. Which is exactly what the mascots have always been in Magical Girls. Beings so powerful they can give mythical powers to girls, yet helpless to do anything on their own. So, they use magical girls as a vehicle to achieve their goals. Most Magical girls try to paint this as a good thing, but newer genres shine light on how dangerous that can be too.

Madoka tackles it with Kyubey as the main initial mascot, only later to turn out to be the villain of the series.

And in a Post-Madoka world, trusting the mascots is just the slightest bit more difficult. That’s why, from the get go, GOMG portrays their mascots as morally corrupt. He’s not a good character, he’s malicious and doing more harm than good. But for the majority of the series, he’s painted more as a useless harmless evil than anything genuinely terrifying or worthy of concern. The attention is focused on other things.

But I love the way that it’s heavily implied that they’re not good. It’s a very interesting take on the mascot and it helps with the themes of the series. Which yes, by the way. Gushing Over Magical Girls has themes.

Which lead me to-

Part 3: Yeah, uhm, Gushing Over Magical Girl has themes.

There’s this idea that Sex is an inherently violent act. In which a man humiliates and sodomizes a woman, and therefore the woman is exploited in some way. And 10x worse is any act that involves BDSM. It’s violence; born out of hatred.

This is TERF rhetoric. I’m not joking. This line of thought leads directly to TERF ideas.

Many on the internet have pointed out as much, and BDSM members have gone to be very vocal about it. In particular, people on the role of the submissive (or the bottoms) are loudly trying to explain the contrary. How they like the act of sex, like the idea of being vulnerable, or being humiliated. There’s also plenty of LGBT+ stories that talk about it, both in western and eastern spaces. Just jump into the section of dom/sub verse at your local manga browsing website, and you’ll find something.

That said, the same is not as common for people who like to “dominate”.

I can only think of two pieces of media that argue that, whoever is the dominant or the sadist, is also a human being. That whatever they’re doing is done, not out of hatred for the submissive or an act of violence, but love.

One, is the husky and the white cat. In which Mo Ran, among other things, has to come to terms that his love isn’t “pure”. That he cannot love someone without the want to have sex, and to completely dominate that someone.

The second one is Gushing Over Magical Girls.

It’s very clear to me that Utena’s sadism isn’t a violent act. It’s an act born out of love. She genuinely loves the Magical Girls, and most girls for that matter, and whenever she is inflicting pain and fighting with them - what she wants is to ultimately help them in some way.

She wants them to “be the cutest version they can be” and wants them to shine brighter than ever.

There’s this one scene I love, around chapter 20, in which Baiser (Utena) is fighting Magia Azura. And due to Baiser going a bit too far, Azura ends up being Mind-broken. She crawls towards her, calls her “mistress” and begs to become her servant.

In any normal Hentai you’ll find, this is a good thing. This would be the ideal outcome. A character being turned into nothing but a sex slave for the enjoyment of the dominant.

Which is why I found it breathtaking when that didn’t happen.

Baiser is horrified by this. She does not want to break the girls, she wants them to be powerful. She wants them to win. With her, the evil one, being nothing more than a vehicle for them to be even stronger than before.

This is the first time I’ve ever seen dominant or sadist characters being presented both sexually, and in such a positive light. Much less a queer woman in the same position.

It doesn’t treat BDSM sex as a disgusting taboo act, but something born out of genuine love - and a want to see the other person be or feel better.

This is reinforced around chapter 25 where Leberblume and Loco Mùsica are fighting Baiser. For context, Loco Musica wanted to be an Idol, but had terrible singing. She uses her evil power to basically force everyone to listen to her sing (which is so reminiscent of Mermaid Melody btw). When they fight, Baiser wins, and is then set to use her new found power to “punish” Loco Musica.

Originally, Loco Musica points out how Baiser’s sadistic tendencies are “the same” as Lord Enorme, who we’ve seen uses sadism as a genuine form of punishment. Something to avoid. You behave well, because you don’t want to get hurt or humiliated by her.

However, when Baiser uses her own unique type of sadism on Loco Musica, something happens. Instead of causing her physical pain by beating her or using violence, she forces her to get naked and perform her idol song like that. This causes her to get extremely embarrassed. And in the process, she actually starts to sing really well.

This is important for two reasons

1) Baiser is actually taking into account who Musica is. It’s later revealed that Musica wanted a more frilly idol-like outfit but Lord Enorme shut it down, for the sake of a more ‘unified’ aesthetic. Baiser is not just throwing around the same treatment and punishment for all girls - what one might like, the other might hate.

2) At the end of the day, while she did the punishment, it was both embarrassing, but ultimately something that helped Musica and made her feel better.

And that’s really the key here, and why I love the series.

Sadism, sex and kinks in general are not tools of degeneracy. They’re treated as part of our experience.

Also, it’s just fun?

Part 4: Gushing Over Magical Girls is just extremely fun when you don’t have a dumb bitch yapping abt how unholy it is to see tiddies on a screen

Yeah, GOMG just has one of the most creative depictions of the most insane of kinks you’ll see - I could spent hour gushing over Nero Alice.

Seeing all these different kinks being depicted as powers and abilities that these characters have - and seeing how they interact with other people is just interesting.

The sex scenes are both hilarious and kinda sexy. Specially if you do like to see women all hot and bothered. Personally I’m not into girls (or anyone for that matter) but I have to admit the scenes were pretty hot. And there is no shame in admitting as much. No matter what the puritanical Christian on Twitter crying abt “god honoring lesbian sex” Will tell you.

I cannot begin to explain just how hype and relatable it was to see Magia Baiser defeat Lord Enorme with the power of straight up delusion, we STAN.

So, yeah.

It’s been a while since I last saw a Magical Girl Show so unashamed of being a Magical Girl Show. Unashamed of being weird, of praising the genre and just enjoying it.

My essay is titled, in part, as a joking reference to my much more popular series “MLB is the worst thing to happen to the magical girl series”. Which I still think is true.

And while, yeah, maybe GOMG isn’t the best thing to come out of the genre…I still think it’s good that it came out.

A lot of people say they want a more “mature” take on Magical Girls but - this proved to me that just isn’t the case.

Gushing over magical girls proves that the Magical Girl Genre Can Be so much more than what people think. More than glitter and sparkles, more than vapid action scenes, or what little girls want.

Much like any other genre, it can be raunchy, it can be messy, it can explore things outside of the status quo. But it can still deeply respect the source material, and the origins of it.

GOMG proves Magical Girls can be fun. Just. Straight up fun. Regardless of your age. They can serve and connect you to parts of yourself you didn’t realize you could connect to.

I hope it proves to more people that the genre can be so much more than “just for little girls” that parodies can be more than pointing and laughing, and that it can have themes beyond just, “friendship”.

Magical Girls can be so much more. You just, have to have an open mind about it.

#gushing over magical girls #2k magical girl essay #cute high earth defense club love #sailor moon #puella magi madoka magica #shugo chara #I will defend this show with my life it’s genuinely so much fun #yes I am willing to tank my reputation for it it’s so fucking funny 😭😭

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linamromero · 7 months ago

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𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐆𝐎𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄.

𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐱𝐢𝐚 𝐩𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐬 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐚/𝐧: 𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭. 𝐥𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐚 𝐟 𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟐 - 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑.

...

it happened again.

the team won the la liga for the season again. It was even better because your girlfriend alexia made her comeback after being out for nearly 10 months from a nasty knee injury.

you and alexia were celebrating on the way back to the changing room, clinging on to the trophy her hand on one handle and yours on the other, "nosotras somos las campeonas!”

"mi amiga!" patri sang the next lyric so she played the queen song on the speaker.

alexia pulled your body close to hers swaying to the music, you buried your face into her neck placing light kisses every once in a while, "amor!”

"sí?" you hummed sending vibrations through her body.

"i don't want to stay out late tonight, we can celebrate at home." alexia whispered stroking your hair.

"how would you like to celebrate at home?" you smirked playing dumb.

"i think you know." she murmured in your ear.

"venga lovebirds, have a beer!” mapi handed you both a bottle of estrella from her cubby.

"valé valé valé!" alexia put her hands up before taking her sweaty match shirt off.

you could help but stare a little too long before taking your own shirt off. the team sang and danced for a while before you decide to go home and get dressed up to go to manuelas.

you both got into alexia’s car and managed to get out of the car park before being swarmed by fans. the both of you took photos and signed items before leaving the premises.

once you got home, alexia went straight upstairs into your shared bedroom changing for a shower, “y/n cariño are you showering with me?”

"sí claro, stupid question bonita but we can't be long i promised patri i would pick her and piña up." you called up stair well.

"valé!”

you rushed into the master bedroom taking your shorts and sports bra off as you were eager to get to alexia. she was in the shower facing the wall you thought she looked good from behind. her ass is incredible.

you opened the glass shower door, she didn't even turn around so you approached her holding her hips, grabbing her bum lightly, "hola bonita." she greeted you.

you hummed in response kissing over her neck and across her left shoulder, you brought her arm up kissing all the way down her arm and down her hand to her index finger. alexia tilted your chin up to look at her in the eyes, bringing you close to her face connecting her lips with yours.

no words were shared, just through actions.

you managed to wash each other without getting too carried away, "can you pass me my towel amor?"

the midfielder wrapped a towel around you and her own around herself walking back into the master bedroom. you decided to dry and straighten your hair, leaving your natural freckles to sprawl themselves across your face only applying a little bit of mascara.

finally you decided to wear some caramel dress trousers and a white vest top paired with your dior high tops, gold rolex, cartier bangle and chunky rings.

your girlfriend decided on a black crop top with extra ties and a matching black ruched skirt. she left her hair looking wet pushed back out of her face, alexia put light eyeshadow on with lashes and a red lip, "what jewellery shall i wear?"

"definitely gold so maybe your hoops and the gold rolex i got you." you suggested, which she agreed putting them on.

"and my shoes?"

"your red jordans 100%." you implied.

"you have such good taste, i know i can count on you." alexia smiled kissing your lips lightly.

"ale!" You groaned.

"que?"

"you got your lipstick on me." she wiped your lips with her finger, "no kissing me all night."

"but y/n, that's gonna be so hard you look so good." alexia smirked.

“you’re just gonna have to behave."

"i will try my hardest ." alexia raised a brow grabbing her bag.

...

after the couple picked up patri and piña they drove to the open air restaurant, their head coach had invited the team out for a celebratory dinner.

of course they were the first of the players to arrive, alexia was always good with her timing, arriving first to everything.

"hola bona nit.” each of the greeted.

"sit, sit." he pointed at the rather long table.

you and alexia sat near the head of the table as the staff sat next to jonatan who was at the end with patri and piña sitting opposite you. once everyone arrived jonatan handed your girlfriend the trophy placing it in between you both.

"mi reina." You mumbled into alexia's ear, a smile appeared upon her lips.

"mi querida." she looked at you with loving eyes.

everyone had eaten and drinks were flowing, you were finishing third estrella whereas your girlfriend was finishing her fourth strawberry daiquiri. mapi danced over to the table with a large jug of sangria, "let's get this party started!"

you all cheered, mapi filling fresh wine glasses to the brim with the beverage. you placed your hand on alexia's bare thigh making her flinch at the coldness of your rings, "lo siento."

she brushed her thumb over your knuckle reassuring you that she was fine.

jonatan told everyone to grab a photo with the trophy in which you all did, "campeonas! campeonas !" cata and mapi started shouting dancing around with her flag that she bought with her.

eventually you all floated off to manuelas which you were looking forward to. As soon as you entered, you were stamped with a 'manuelas' tattoo and lots of stickers.

you got the love was playing a slowish song so you dragged your girlfriend to the dance floor slinging her arms around your neck. slowly dancing and singing the lyrics with your teammates.

she span her body around as antes de morirme started playing guiding your arms around her waist, you pulled her hips colliding them with yours. her skirt began to ride up as she grinded her backside into your crotch, “cariño."

she looked up at you with an innocent look on her face, "si mi amor?"

"i said behave." you bit your lip.

"i am not using my lips though am i?" alexia winked at you knowing that she was teasing you.

"bathroom. ahora." you grunted in her ear.

you got to the bathroom, other women were hooking up by the basins so alexia lead you into a cubical. you pushed her up against the door, exploring her exposed body in the limited space you had.

she returned the favour, flipping your body over onto the door, pulling your straps of your vest top down taking it off with your bra. alexia attached her lips to your neck, kissing and sucking at it moving down to your breasts, "ale."

she just looked at you innocently, "you want this right?"

you nodded in response and she set to work taking your nipple into her mouth, swirling her tongue around it adding a light suction. At this point alexia's lipstick had smeared all over your body but you were too busy to care.

"ale! y/n!" a voice called from outside the cubicle, of course it was ana.

her voice pulled you out of the messy fog, "yes what?"

"if your gonna have sex, go home." she yelled as you quickly put your clothes on and opened the door.

“how did you know?" alexia furrowed her eyebrows.

"look at the state of y/n for a start!” your body was absolutely covered in alexia's lipstick.

"ah well i-."

"save it, just go home i've ordered you an uber and pick your car up in the morning." ana said leaving the bathroom.

"gracias ana!" you pulled a face as you left the club.

"we can continue this at home, mi reina." you smirked getting in the taxi.

#woso #alexia putellas #futfem #barcelona femeni #woso community #alexia x reader #fcb femení #espwnt #woso x reader #fc barcelona femeni #woso fanfics #alexia #la reina #alexia putellas x reader #woso oneshot

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lamentationsofalonelypotato · 2 months ago

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Chapter 2: I'll Never Let You Go Again Like I Did

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!Reader, Soldier Boy POV

Summary: With a birthday printed on your wrist that happened over a hundred years ago, you always thought that you were cursed to never meet your soulmate. But when you finally meet the man that's supposed to be the other half of your soul, you wonder if the stars were wrong, and wonder how this man was meant for you. Reader is Hughie's sister, is not a supe, and is a Literature Professor that gets dragged into the middle of things. This fic takes place in an AU set loosely after Season 3 and does deviate from the plot of The Boys

Tropes: Soulmate AU, Little bit of Grumpy and Sunshine, Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Protective Ben/ Soldier Boy, Jealous Ben/Soldier Boy

Warnings: Little bit sad, DENIAL, Homophobic Comments (Soldier Boy), Cursing, Mentions of drinking, Mentions of using drugs, Sexism, Mentions of Sex, Mentions of torture (Soldier Boy's Time in Russia) Loneliness, Longing (I mean… as close as Soldier Boy can get to it), Reader wears glasses?, Soldier Boy might be a little OOC.

Word Count: 6.4K

Song Inspiration For This Chapter: Until I Found You (chapter title is lyric from this song) and Coming Back For You

Note: Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal Monologue Is in First Person And Is In Italics

Playlist for Series (Spotify)

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

A/N: Oh my goodness I'm so excited about this series and thank you so much to everyone for all the wonderful love and support so far! It really means the world to me 🥰

One Year Ago: Ben POV

Ben squinted his eyes as he stepped out into the brilliant sunshine of the early morning, shouldering the strap of his worn backpack with a huff. The people on the crowded, gum covered sidewalks shot him odd looks and gave him a wide birth as he made his way down the path, but he didn't care, in fact he didn't notice them. His mind was somewhere else.

He wasn't sure where he was going, just that something in the pit of his stomach was pointing him in this direction. Ben had started walking in what he thought was the way to Legend's apartment, but the streets looked so different than the last time he was in New York and he was a little turned around, but he wasn't going to admit that to anyone.

And there was something in the pit of his stomach, some instinct or gut feeling, that was telling him he needed to go this way.

It was an odd feeling that prickled on the back of his neck, as if he'd forgotten something. Ben wondered what exactly it was that he'd forgotten. He hadn’t spoken aloud to anyone other than the scientists who kept him locked in a cage so he didn’t exactly have a social calendar to follow up on.

I've been locked in a lab for forty fucking years, what is there to forget?

But the more he thought about it, the more it seemed just out of reach.

Ben raised his eyes from the sidewalk with a sigh to look at the people passing by, taking in their new clothing and different hairstyles to distract himself. He frowned at the bizarre groups of people to him that flit by on their merry way, muttering little things under his breath about how things used to be.

Ben had a feeling that he was going to be doing that a lot.

New York City was different, the same, but different. Even though Ben had been gone for forty years, it still felt like the center of the universe. There were still hot dog vendors on every street corner, still magazine stands with freshly printed newspapers that smelled like ink and were warm to the touch, still coffee shops that lined the streets and caffeinated the masses, and there were still cab drivers who wove through traffic as if they were unstoppable shouting at pedestrians as they went.

The memories he had of old New York City merged together with what he was seeing around him and felt himself slipping into the past only to be jolted back into reality by the strangeness of the future.

He didn't like feeling disoriented, but it was there, brimming just under the surface. His body was tense as he walked prepared for anything, unable to relax as he continued on his way to wherever the hell it was he was going.

The morning sunlight reflected off the glass windows of the skyscrapers that worshiped the rising sun and the sounds of the city vibrated against the brick and mortar. There was a buzz of electricity in the air, the low hum of power that Ben could always hear beneath it all. Cars honked sharply, people shouted in colorful language to one another, and the wind rustled through the long strands of Ben's hair crinkling against his ears and scratching against his neck.

He hadn't had time to cut it or his beard and it didn't seem to be as important as finding Legend and getting his affairs in order.

The smell of hotdogs, earth, cologne, and heavy perfume wafted up with the breeze that tugged and pulled at his sweatsuit. The same stained sweatsuit he had found in a rust covered locker before hiding in the cargo hold of a plane headed back to the U.S that was probably almost as old as him. The plane ride had been long, but when he'd been in a lab for the past forty years it seemed to pass in the blink of an eye. He spent the whole time stewing in his thoughts. He'd slept enough and like hell he was going to drift off and let those Russian fucks take him again.

Ben sighed when he felt his memories begin to unravel on the edge of his mind, unfurling and asking to be relived. It wasn't unusual or unwelcome. Ben was using those memories to justify what he was going to do to his old team. As long as the rage continued to burn against his skin, Ben would have no problem breaking each of them down piece by piece.

Ben didn't understand how his team could have done that to him or why they'd done it to him. He thought that he'd been a good leader, a good American, a good soldier, a good hero, and yet they'd all stabbed him in the back. Sure, maybe he'd been a little rough on them, but Ben saw it as the only way to toughen them up. They needed thicker skin if they were going to survive in a world like this.

All I've done is give my fucking life to this country and what did they do? They gave me to the fucking reds.

His hand tightens on the strap of his backpack as he weaves through the crowds, trying his best to keep to himself when all he can feel is his anger and frustration building and burning hot under his rib cage. His new power stirred beneath the surface, energy beginning to travel through his body, tracing his veins and pulsing in the center of his chest.

I should have seen it coming. I should have killed that entire fucking bunch of pussies the second I had the chance. Especially that bitch.

His frowned at the thought of Countess.

Truthfully, when the two of them started messing around it was only because Countess's soulmate had died a few years before and Ben knew he wasn't going to meet his soon if anytime. He'd messed around with plenty of other women for the same reason and well…

Ben's frown deepened as he stepped around a couple that was walking arm and arm, the dates on their wrists flashing gold in the sunlight. He ignores the feeling that comes when he sees them, pushes it down into the deep recesses of his mind as he has done his whole life.

Since he was a kid, Ben wasn't sure that he believed the "soulmate thing." Sure he'd seen hundreds of other people around him find "the one," but Ben wasn't sure that he was made to be a soulmate. Especially not with a birthdate on his wrist so far in the future. He assumed that it meant he wasn't going to get a soulmate and he'd spent the better part of his life pretending that he didn't care about that. He was a man after all, and Ben didn't want to need anyone. At least, that was what he told himself.

Ben had lived long enough to see other soulmates find one another, witnessed the goofy looks on their faces when they locked eyes for the first time, and had the super hearing to listen to what came next.

But instead of focusing on the impossibility to meeting his own, Ben focused on the lie he told himself, that it seemed ridiculous to be intertwined with someone as soon as he was born. Not to mention that Ben wasn't sure that he wanted to be with someone, not when he didn't age and not when he'd have to watch whoever it was, if anyone turn to dust.

Yes, he could see himself settling down with someone, having a few kids, but Ben wasn't sure that whoever was supposed to be his other half was within reach anyway so why care? Ben knew that he didn't age, but he didn't actually think he'd ever get to meet you or that you would actually ever exist. Not when you were born so far away from him and not when he'd been trapped in that lab.

But that didn't stop a part of him from thinking about the possibility of meeting you. When things were quiet in the lab and he was left alone for a few precious moments, he felt his mind begin to slip into the question of what if?

What if you existed and what if you came for him?

He knew that it was a long shot. The only people that knew he was there were the people who stabbed him in the back. And Ben didn't want to cling to some fantasy, it felt feminine to fanaticize about the person who was supposedly meant for him breaking down the thick metal door and pulling him from the lab.

Again, Ben was trying not to believe in the "soulmate bullshit."

Countess had been a way of passing the time as had the numerous other women, but with them were moments when he'd feel something odd settle in his chest, something that he never could put a name to. In those moments he would raise his right arm and look at the birthdate printed on his wrist, the same one that Ben had kept hidden for most of his life, the one that when he was a boy people mocked him for, and the one his father chastised him for having as if it was Ben's fault that some celestial body had decided to single him out.

All of his childhood friends had found their soulmates and Ben had spent the better part of his life covering it up to avoid the conversation that always happened when someone saw the date. No ones soulmate was born so far in the future and Ben’s father had spent a lot of money making sure that word didn’t get out his son was a freak.

His father already made Ben feel like a disappointment and a fuck-up, but Ben was already thinking it himself every time he looked at the date printed on his wrist that seemed impossible. When his mother was alive she would try her best to make Ben feel better telling him that it wasn't impossible, that one day it would all make sense, but after her death Ben stopped feeling comfort, joy, and anything warm. All he felt was the cold shoulder from his father and the words that Ben pretended didn't hurt when his father was halfway through his second bottle of scotch with a third prepped and waiting on the kitchen table.

It made Ben feel like a pussy every time he looked at the mark and thought about his future soulmate, but he did it in private, usually after he'd had a few glasses of something and a few puffs or snuffs of something else to numb his mind. And he'd allow himself a single moment to think of you, wonder if he'd ever meet you, and wondered if you'd ever actually exist. In those few fleeting moments he believed in soulmates, but then he'd snap out of it and wake up the woman in bed next to him to distract him for another hour or so.

Ben's eyes flick to his right wrist covered by the gray and maroon tracksuit, his brow furrowing together. He was trying not to think about you or rather the possibility of you today. He didn't have time for that, not when all he wanted was to make his old team pay for everything they did to him.

But there was a little whisper of something in his ear, a small wisp of hope that he had finally made it to you, the one thing he didn’t think would ever happen, that he lived long enough to be alive the same year you were, and that you were out there somewhere waiting for him.

No. Ben tenses. I'm not going to think about her, not when those butt fucks need to be dealt with. I'm going to go to Legend's and then I'm going to-

He didn't see you in front of him until it was too late to move out of the way. Your body hits his full on in the chest, sending the bagel between your lips tumbling into the street, but Ben barely feels the hit, what he does feel is the dam he built forever ago burst open and warmth soaks into his body. Electricity skitters along his skin, crackling in the air as his eyes lock with yours only for a second. He feels like he's caught fire, as if the pieces of himself deep down inside are overheating and vibrating until there's nothing left, but you and him.

Any thoughts he had of his team and revenge are lost in the flood of emotions that fill the hole inside he tried so hard to ignore with the lie he continued to tell himself: “I don't believe in soulmates.”

And yet, there you were.

He can hear his heart and yours beating together as one, his own pounding so hard under his ribcage as if it wishes to break free and cross the space between your bodies. Seeing you for the first time feels like taking a bullet to the chest, the sharp jolt backwards when it lands and the pinch of flesh against Kevlar. It was worth the bruise if looking at you was the same way each time.

Ben can feel the world slipping away, going silent, and in that silence Ben is lost in you.

Holy Fuck.

You were the perfect amalgamation of every single beautiful woman that Ben had ever seen and fantasized about in his entire life. And yet you weren't what he was expecting. Over the years Ben had bedded many women, the ones who captured his attention for a night, but none of them were anything like you.

In all the ways those women were bold and dramatic you were confident, but not boisterous, beautiful but not haughty, respectful but not prude, and there was a kindness reflected in the warmth of your eyes that Ben had never seen before, but there it was staring back at him unblinkingly.

You reminded him of the women that came arm in arm with men to his parents lavish parties when he was a boy, the ones who were classically beautiful and reserved with the golden dates on their wrists catching in the light. The exact kind of woman he hadn’t seen for the better part of eighty years and the opposite of the women who had thrown themselves at his feet forty years ago.

Your hair falls forward into your face from the force of your body hitting his and Ben itches to push it back, to touch you, to feel his skin against yours to quench the burning that he can feel in his soul.

All of his instincts are telling him to pull you against him, that you're too far away even though you're standing only inches apart. That he needs to breathe the same air and feel the warmth of your skin against his rough fingertips.

The birthmark on his right wrist sears his skin and he knows what it means, that you're the woman he's been looking for his whole life, the woman that always seemed just out of his grasp, the woman that was made just for him, and the woman he thought would never exist.

He watches your eyes widen with the same realization about him behind your round glasses, eyes that are the perfect color and eyes that Ben can imagine staring in to every day for the rest of his life. He'd never wanted to spend more than one night with a woman, never wanted more, but all of that fades into you.

The idea of a soulmate no longer seems ridiculous, no longer seems like something he’d never have, not when he’s looking into your eyes and nothing else seems to matter.

Not when looking at you is like seeing the sun sink into the earth at the end of the day and feeling the hope that it'll rise the next morning.

The lie he told himself for so long is slipping away the longer he stares at you, because although he never wanted to want anyone he knows that he needs you. It's an odd feeling for him. He's never once cared about anyone, told himself that it was weak to, that having a soulmate was a stupid idea and not for him, but all of the things he ever thought about soulmates is evaporating in the heat that is consuming his body by being in your presence.

Why now?

The thought makes the world come back into sharper focus.

I've lived decades without her and now the moment I come back to the U.S I just run into her?

It was laughable .

The moment of clarity allows the fantasies of his revenge to come creeping in and Ben feels the anger and rage ebbing on the edge of the wonderful feeling building in his chest when he looks at you.

You weren't a supe. Ben could tell that just by looking at you. He didn't think he'd ever seen someone so soft and yet someone that he wanted to possess so badly that it almost hurt to stand inches away from you.

I don't want her to be apart of this.

The thought is immediate, stirring some primal urge within to protect what's his. Because you were his. You were the missing piece that he pretended not to need and the woman who always seemed to slip into his mind when he was alone and all was quiet,.

The thoughts of what he's about to do to his teammates come surging up and he didn't want you involved in any of that. Not when he knew that he needed to protect you, that he'd drag you along, and you'd see all the ugly parts of him and see the horror of what he was about to do.

He didn't want that for you, he didn’t want the first time that he met you to be like this, him looking like he'd crawled out from under a rock and full of so much anger, rage, and frustration it felt like he was going to explode, him having a new uncontrollable power that meant he might hurt you, and him being unable to give you his full attention when all he could think about was the team that stabbed him in the back.

What he was, was selfish, he knew that about himself.

But I won't be this selfish.

Ben had made many mistakes his life, he knew that, had done some things that he wasn't proud of, but you wouldn’t be one of them. He didn't want to put you in danger and realized that there was only one way to protect you, because after all, he was the only one who knew that you existed.

His eyes trace your face one more time, memorizing it before he does what he thinks is right. Ben turns away from you and forces himself to keep walking. Each cell in his body is screaming at him to turn around, to run back to you, but he can't. He doesn't want it to be like this and he knows that you deserve better.

I won't do this to her.

“Wait-“ He hears you shout over the sounds of the street.

The sound of your voice is a soothing melody, a warm soak in a hot bath, a steady hand against his back, and a salve over the gaping hole where a piece of him was missing for so long, the hole that he tried to ignore his whole life. He grits his teeth and continues to walk away from you, each step feeling like he's walking through tar the further he gets.

And deep down Ben is hoping that he did the right thing and makes a promise that he'll come back for you.

Present Day Ben POV

Why the fuck am I coming to this thing again?

Ben thought to himself standing outside the closed apartment door holding an expensive bottle of scotch. The same bottle of scotch that he was going to break open as soon as he crossed the threshold to get through this. He didn’t think that Hughie would appreciate it the way he would anyway.

Probably drinks those fucking fruity drinks with the umbrellas.

Ben didn’t understand why Hughie had invited him to this party or why Annie would let him invite Ben to it. Ben knew how much she hated him and the feeling was mutual.

Ben sighs as he stares at the door thinking about walking back to the elevator.

Invited was a strong word. Ben had overheard Hughie talking about it in the break room with MM and when Ben walked in, Hughie felt the need to fill the awkward silence by inviting Ben to the housewarming party.

Ben didn't know why anyone needed a housewarming party, but he chocked it up to another thing about the 21st century that he didn't quite understand.

He thought about all the people inside that he saw at work everyday, the ones that he tried to avoid all shoved in the apartment in front of him and groaned to himself.

Fuck, I should just go home.

Ben frowned at the thought of going back to his extravagant penthouse apartment downtown. The one that was two stories with a private balcony, six bedrooms, five bathrooms, a study, a media room, an exercise room, and overlooked Central Park with a view that would make anyone else salivate. His real estate agent had been surprised when Ben hadn't batted an eye at the price, but Ben didn't think about money the same way everyone else did.

He didn't have to, not with the money he'd earned over the years and not with the money his father, grandfather, and great grandfather in his accounts.

When he'd first bought the apartment he had been happy to get out from under Butcher's eye, who had a tendency to watch Ben like a hawk whenever he thought that Ben wasn't paying attention. But the apartment was large and cold, furnished with furniture that Ben had hired some twenty year old interior designer to buy, who charged him an outrageous amount of money to do absolutely nothing. She'd called it "minimalism," Ben called it "a fucking rip off."

Not one piece of furniture was comfortable to him and being there never felt like home. Then again, Ben didn't have a "home" to compare it to. His family mansion back in Philadelphia after his mother died had been cold and most of the rooms were closed off and the apartment he had in New York before he went to Russia was almost as big as his new one, but it never seemed like home. It always seemed like a way station, a place for Ben to entertain women for a short while before he went to a commercial shoot, a party, or on location for a film.

Even his cleaning lady and housekeeper would comment on the little things about his apartment that Ben tried to ignore. Honestly, Ben thought that she was fucking nosy, but she did her job well so he kept her on.

That and because he couldn't seem to remember her name no matter how many checks he wrote.

Ben didn’t like being in his apartment at all, but he knew that it wouldn't change if he moved. It wasn't where he lived that was the problem, it was that you weren't there with him.

It had been an entire year since he'd seen you and every day Ben walked the same path he had the day he met you for the first time hoping to run in to you. He didn’t have your name or your address or anything that he could have someone at work plug into a computer to find you. He'd tried to "google" you, but there was only so much he could do with the little information he had and he didn't understand how to find you other than the old fashioned way.

So he was back to sitting home alone every night trying his best not to notice how empty the apartment was, the one he bought that was more than big enough for two people. Sometimes he tried to stay out as long as he could to avoid going back to it, but each time he went through the front door it only emphasized how empty it was.

Ben's life was empty. He hadn't realized that before, but nowadays he was hyperaware of it. In the past he would have filled his life with women eager to warm his bed, but ever since he saw you Ben hadn't been able to think about anyone else.

Ben couldn't remember the last time he felt this frustrated and it only made everything harder for him. And as much as he tried to relieve the tension it never seemed like it was enough. He needed you.

And after he spent twelve months trying his best and he was tired of feeling restless he tried to pick up a woman in a bar.

Every cell in his body screamed wrong at the top of its lungs when he spoke to her, using lines that he'd perfected since he was a teenager. Ben knew he was good at that, but he fumbled the ball each time he opened his mouth. He tried to shake off the ghost of you, but when he spoke to the woman leaning against the aged wooden bar with a martini in her hand and wearing a dress that left little to the imagination, he got a flash in the corner of his eye of someone coming in through the door and he'd thought it was you.

He hadn't been expected to feel so ashamed, guilty, and embarrassed at the thought of you catching him with someone else. He'd been sleeping with women longer than you'd been alive and he'd never felt that way, but now that he knew you existed and knew there was a possibility of you running in to him, it was all different.

Ben's outlook on soulmates being "ridiculous" had evaporated on the spot the moment he locked eyes with you. He couldn't pretend that he didn't care anymore and couldn't pretend that you didn't exist.

How could he when you were the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen? How could he when a piece of him was with you? How could he when you were always on his mind?

He'd never had a woman have a hold on him so completely in his entire life, but you did.

She fucking does and I only saw her once.

It only made him feel worse. He wondered if he'd made the right decision when he turned his back on you.

Sometimes he liked to think back to the moment of when he first saw you when everything was quiet and he was sitting up in his bed staring down at the mark on his wrist that shone a brilliant gold. His mind would slip into those few moments of bliss and he would wonder what would have happened f he just said "fuck it" and didn't go after Payback, if he'd stopped and asked for your name, and allowed you to let him forget everything that happened in the past forty years so he could start his life with you.

Unfortunately, those moments were usually followed by the same self-deprecating thoughts that Ben had, the chauvinistic ones that he'd carried with him over the years, and the ones that his father had impressed on him from the moment he could walk and Ben couldn't seem to shake.

He'd berate himself about how it was stupid and pussy-like to pine over a woman.

Because that's what he was doing, he was pining over you and he didn't like it.

He didn't want to think of you as much as he did, but he couldn't help it. Now that Ben knew you existed he didn't want to miss out on another moment of your life.

Of course, he couldn't find you and that was the problem. Sometimes he wondered if you were looking for him as hard as he was looking for you, if you walked the same way each hoping to catch a glimpse of him.

The dreams didn't make it any better. He'd never heard of someone living the memories of their soulmate when they slept, but every night he was subjected to watching your life and it only made him want to find you more.

He'd never knew that someone could feel so lonely surrounded by people, never knew that someone could feel so out of place, and never knew that someone could be as sad as you were, but each time he relieved a memory of yours at night Ben could feel his heart twinge.

Ben watched the lonely birthdays you spent with a cupcake and a beer for him, saw the jeers of the people in your hometown and the pitying looks from your parents, felt your shoulders shake when you cried alone in your room and stared at the birthdate on your wrist, and he felt you losing hope as each year passed.

Ben didn't usually allow himself to feel emotion like that, but watching you go through it all hurt him more than anything those Russian fucks did to him. He wasn't used to that and he wasn't used to thinking about other people as much as he thought about you.

But something about him felt different after meeting you.

Ben had asked Legend about soulmates, specifically the dreams, but Legend had muttered something unintelligible under his breath and took another snort of cocaine from the mirror on the coffee table instead of answering. Their relationship had been a little awkward after Ben slept with Legend's soulmate forty years ago, but Legend didn’t seem to be too upset about it… anymore. Mostly because Legend's soulmate tried to pull a Lorena Bobbitt one night and Legend caught her before any permanent damage was done.

She was in prison, and Ben didn't understand why Legend still went to see her for conjugal visits, but he figured that she was as much of a freak as his old handler.

Just rip the bandaid off you fucking pussy.

Ben thought staring at the clean white door in front of him.

Truthfully, Ben was tired. He'd been running himself harder for the last month, throwing himself into his work because he was starting to believe that he was never going to meet you again, and it seemed like work was the only thing that could distract him long enough. But he couldn't escape sleep.

When he'd come back from Russia, Ben had avoided sleeping the best way he could and he got through a few days before he collapsed. The first dream he'd had of you had come on suddenly, but clear as day.

You reading on your bed in your apartment smiling down at the pages as if it the book was telling you a secret.

Ben wasn't a reader, didn't see any merit in it if it wasn't a western or a war book. The most he could tolerate was Ernest Hemingway, but he could have sat there and watched you read forever. You looked so peaceful, content, and happy that Ben was afraid to interrupt you even though it was just a dream.

But whenever he thought about you dreaming his memories, something dark settled in the back of his mind, because what were you seeing? He'd done a few things he wasn't proud of and Ben didn't want you to think that he wasn't a hero or that he was a bad guy.

Ben sighs and raises his hand to knock hard against the door with his free hand, trying not to open the bottle preemptively before entering the apartment.

"Ben?" Hughie says it like a question when he opens the door, eyes wide with the same stupid look on his face that always grates on Ben.

Ben forces his signature tight lipped smile that he flashes around the office. "Hey there sport."

"Hey. Wow, you're here." Hughie clears his throat and looks over his shoulder as if he's nervous about something.

Ben raises an eyebrow. "I was invited."

"Well yes but-"

"But?"

"Um-"

"Spit it out dipstick."

Hughie clears his throat. "I didn't think you would come."

Fuck I should have stayed home. He doesn't want me here, neither does his fucking beard.

Ben frowns listening to where Annie groans under her breath further inside the apartment and talks low under her breath to someone that Ben can't see.

"Well surprise and congratulations or whatever." Ben rolls his eyes holding out the bottle of scotch. He was hesitant to lose sight of it, not when talking to Hughie for less than five minutes made him want to down the whole bottle.

"Oh wow this is really," Hughie's eyes widen as he takes in the label and realize how much money Ben spent on the bottle. "Expensive stuff, thanks Ben."

"It'll put some hair on your chest." Ben claps Hughie hard on the shoulder as he pushes past him into the foyer of the apartment.

The entire apartment could have fit in Ben's living room and kitchen. It was made in a similar fashion to his, sleek white walls, sterling silver appliances, large glass windows that let in the light-

Ben stops so suddenly inside the area that leads into the kitchen that Hughie plows into his back, but Ben doesn't feel it.

He can't move, can't breathe, because he's noticed the person talking to Annie is you. This was the last place that he'd expected you to be, but he doesn't care, because you're here and you're more beautiful than he remembers.

You're standing there pouring ice from a large bag into a pink acrylic bucket with an adorable amount of concentration for such a simple task wearing the same sweater you were the day he first saw you. You're also wearing a little more makeup and your hair is longer, and not pulled back into the messy bun as it was that day, but you’re still you and you’re here.

His fingers twitch with the urge to run his hands through the tangled tresses, to feel if they're as soft as he imagined for so long.

Ben's body swells with emotion, goosebumps flicker over his skin, and all other sounds in the room vanish, because seeing you was like watching the sun rise and feeling the world hold it's breath as it basks in the early morning rays.

And Ben wanted to bask in everything you were, every day for the rest of his life. Now that he found you again he wasn't going to let you out of his sight.

Your soul sings to him as he nears you, the cells in his body vibrating so fast that he can feel every single one begging him to touch you.

You turn into him by accident, sending the bag of ice tumbling to the floor, but feeling your body against his sends him into overdrive and he can't hold back anymore. He reaches out to grab your shoulder as gently as he can without hurting you.

Hurting you was the last thing he wanted to do. And because you weren’t a supe he knew how fragile you were.

You gasp under your breath at the contact from his hand, but to Ben it sounds thunderous in his ears. Ben trails his hand across your shoulder, up your neck, to cup your chin and raise your face to look at him. He feels like his whole body is igniting as he makes contact with your skin.

He can feel an odd vibration in his chest as he does so, energy crackling and pulsing around the two of you, but the rest of the room falls silent. He can’t look away from you, not when seeing you again is like staring too long at the sun and he's left with the imprint of your light and beauty on the inside of his eyelids.

Ben can't focus on anything else, doesn’t hear the awkward chatter, doesn't feel the discomfort he had upon his arrival, doesn't notice the way everyone has turned to stare at the two of you, and doesn't feel the air conditioning turn on and blow cool air against his warm freckled skin.

All he knows is you.

Your eyes are wide and he suspects his are as well, pupils blown but still beautiful and hypnotic as they were one year ago. Ben feels a smile pulling at his lips and he lets it go, because standing in front of you, feeling like this, it’s impossible to do much else.

Your skin is warm to the touch beneath the roughness of his fingertips and he touches you with a reverence that he has never graced anyone else with, because you were his. Every part of you was made for him just as every part of him was made for you.

The your soul was calling out to him, weaving a golden cord of energy in his mind that snagged in the center of his chest and made him feel whole for the first time in life.

You reach out to touch him, the soft palm of your hand falling just over his heart and it makes something inside him break open to flood the space between the two of you.

Hope stirs in his chest with your gentle touch and your unblinking gaze, warmth trailing from where your hand lays against his shirt. His eyes drop to the wrist to see his birthdate, a glowing ember against your skin where the sleeve of your sweater has fallen down an inch.

Your eyes lock with his once more, full lips slightly parted, and breathless.

"I've been looking everywhere for you sweetheart." Ben murmurs, trailing his thumb across your cheek with a gentleness that he's never possessed.

Ben was not a gentle man, but for you he would try. He would be anything you wished him to be, for as long as he lived, because now that he found you, he was never going to let you go.

And he welcomed the challenge of anyone who tried to stand in his way.

As always thank you so much for reading! Reblogs, comments, and likes are not required, but are always welcome and appreciated! I really love hearing what y'all think. ❤️ If you'd liked to be added to the taglist for this series please let me know :)

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bodhrancomedy · 4 months ago

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8 Games Which Made Me Bawl My Fucking Eyes Out (in the best way)

1. A Story Beside

Holy hell, I think the fact I played this one when I was isolating with COVID and terrified my breathing issues were gonna be permanent probably added to my complete sobbing breakdown at the end of this.

Every single chapter is a beautiful gut punch and the ending sequence where you guide Lyric back through her story? Heartbreaking.

2. I Was a Teenage Exocolonist

This is probably one of my favourite games of all time and certainly one I’ve sunk the most hours into.

The fact that your first run-through is almost guaranteed to be full of failure and missed chances just adds to the pain I felt.

But the bug in the nursery. That’s what got me.

3. What Remains of Edith Finch

I’m not sure there’s anything I can say about this game which hasn’t been said already.

Each new room puts another knife in your heart as you pull apart the seams of the Finch family curse with Edith as the last survivor.

Gregory was the moment I had to take a break to compose myself.

4. Story of Seasons: A Wonderful Life

While I think this remake took some of the teeth out of the original, this farm sim which spans the life of your character is full of heartbreaking moments as you raise your child.

Honestly, being allowed to be queer and nonbinary in this game made me bawl because I remember wishing to both be a boy and love men in the older games.

5. Dragon Quest IV

I could add several of the Dragon Quest games to this list, but after fighting the final boss for nearly two decades, beating this game had me sobbing for hours.

That last scene of Chapter Five had such a tiny little animation of our hero taking off his sword and that send me over the edge.

6. Bramble: The Mountain King

I don't know where to start with this dark folktale of a game. From tragic monsters to absolute gut punches following great unsettling scares, this journey to save your sister as a scared child ripped my heart in two.

The hell Olle goes through for his protective sister is dear to my heart as a nervous little brother myself.

7. Citizen Sleeper

The very concept of this RPG is haunting. A construct on the run from the corporation who took your body is sad enough, but the express love of humanity which runs through this? Beautiful.

I'm not very far through and it's already had me in tears twice.

8. Outer Wilds

I don't think I can say a single thing about this game without completely spoiling it.

Go in blind, but be ready for heavy and sorrowful themes. All I'll say is when you hear the ending theme, have tissues ready.

#video games #angst #weepies #gaming #games

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puckinghischier · 3 months ago

Note

alli there is this idea in my head and since I love how you write Nico I wish you could write this

there is a Gracie Abrams song called In Between and I’ve been thinking about a headcanon or something based on that song so it’s like gracie is describing yours and Nico relationship

it’s such a cute song describing two people falling in love and to me it screams falling in love with Nico

really hope you could do something with this request ❤️

this is such a cute request and i hope this is at least semi close to what you were thinking of 🫶🏼

(i kinda manipulated the lyrics and left some out of certain sections just so it would make more sense/flow better)

I just can’t come between em’, they got their own thing; I wish he’d stop pretendin’, he won’t let his phone ring for more than a couple seconds oh I think maybe two

Nico drags behind his teammates as they come off of the ice, hearing the various grunts and complaints about needing an ice bath and a shower.

He smirks to himself as he makes his way to his locker, taking his time, watching the hoard of sweaty hockey players quickly trickle out of the room. Taking a peek behind his shoulder, making sure he’s mostly alone in the large room, he pulls his phone out of his bag, making sure he has no missed calls or messages.

“Cap! Thought you said no phones in the locker room this season? Or does that only apply to us lowly alternates and unlettered players?” Jack pokes fun at his captain, slapping a hand on Nico’s back, startling him.

Sliding his phone out of sight, he turns to greet Jack. “Just checking to make sure I didn’t miss anything important,” Nico gives a nervous smile.

Jack eyes Nico skeptically. “C’mon, Neeks. You’re acting like a lovesick fool. Just ask her out already.”

“Jack, I told you it’s not like that. She’s just…nice to talk to,” Nico won’t meet Jack’s expectant eyes, focusing his attention on the wooden cubby for any vibration or buzz of his phone against the hardwood.

Ever since the night he met you at one of the post-game trips to the bar, Jack knew Nico was smitten, encouraging him to do something before someone else came along and whisked you away under his nose.

“Bullshit. You’ve been glued to your phone for weeks now. Every time you hear even the slightest indication your phone is ringing, you’re jumping at the chance to answer it,” Jack calls him out on his eagerness.

“I have not been! I’m just-“ Nico’s defensive tone is cut short by the quiet ring of his phone, head snapping over to where it rests next to his helmet. His hand immediately shoots out to grab it, smiling when he sees your name on the screen.

“Hey! I was just thinking about giving you a call. Just got done with practice and was wondering if you wanted to-“ Nico stops mid-sentence after hearing Jack clear his throat, already having forgotten where he was and that Jack was standing right behind him.

Jack raises his eyebrows at his friend, giving him a much deserved ‘I told you so,’ look.

“Hang on a second, okay?” Nico puts his hand over the speaker of his phone, addressing Jack. “Can you just go shower already? This proves absolutely nothing. It’s an isolated incident,” he whispers, not wanting you to be hinted to the previous conversation.

Jack shakes his head, laughing. “Whatever you say, Cap. Hi, y/n!!” Jack shouts out as he walks towards the showers, hearing you return his greeting with a small giggle through Nico’s phone, wondering when the two of you are finally going to admit your feelings for each other.

I wish that you could see ‘em, their faces lighten up; Their past is cold and empty, they know it’s been enough; Of waitin’ on somebody, someone who doesn’t care; But he knows her name, she knows he’ll always be there

“Y/n, when are you finally going to lock that man down? You know he’s absolutely obsessed with you, right?” your best friend asks you, watching Nico glide across the ice.

Your cheeks involuntarily turn red, not knowing how to respond to her. You know how you feel about Nico, but you can’t just assume that he feels the same way. “You don’t know that. He’s just a nice guy. He could act like this towards all of his friends.”

No sooner than the words leave your mouth, Nico makes eye contact with you from across the ice. His face breaks out into the widest grin you think you’ve ever seen, your own matching his. You give him a small wave, his gloved hand returning the gesture as you watch Jack skate up to his side. The disappointment settles in your stomach the second his bright eyes are no longer focused on yours, trying really hard not to be mad at Jack, considering they are working right now.

Your best friend, witnessing the entire interaction, has her own smile on her face, knowing that you deserve someone like Nico in your life after your previous relationship endeavors. You’ve been hurt time and time again due to how quickly you become attached, always seeing the best in the worst people. Nico is different, though. She can see how much he wants to make you happy, how kind he is. If any man’s face lights up like that when looking at you, there’s a 100% chance he’s already in love with you.

Which is why, when her and Jack catch each other’s eye, a silent understanding is passed between the two, a small nod of confirmation shared.

Jack feels the same way about Nico as your best friend does about you. Nico deserves someone like you after all of his past failed relationships. All of the girls taking advantage of his loving nature and kindness because they want the status that comes with dating a professional athlete, moving on to the next sport when they get bored with Nico. Jack having been there to pick up the pieces, Nico getting far too attached far too quickly with all the wrong people. But watching the way you always look at Nico, like he’s the only person in every room you’re in, he knows you’re someone Nico needs to keep around.

So, Jack starts putting his part of the unspoken plan into motion.

“Go, do it now,” Jack encourages Nico.

“Do what? What are you talking about?” Nico turns to face Jack, trying to not be annoyed he’s stealing his attention away from you.

“Ask her out, duh? Now’s the time. She can’t say no in front of all these people, right?” Jack gives him a slight push, skating him right over to the glass.

“I don’t want her to say yes because she’s been put on the spot, Jack. I want her to say yes because she genuinely has feelings for me,” Nico protests, trying to stop himself from being pushed towards you.

His efforts are pointless, hearing Jack yell out “Y/n!!” loud enough that you’re able to hear him through the glass.

“Hi!!” you giggle out, laughing at the pout on Nico’s face.

Nico looks up at you, pout immediately dissolving. “So, can I expect a win tonight or am I going to end up being some kind of bad luck charm, since it’s my first game?” you shout at Nico, being brave and taking your friend’s encouragement to heart, attempting to be a little flirtatious.

“Are you kidding me? You could never be bad luck. If anything, I think this will be our best game this season,” Nico perks up a bit, skating a little closer to the glass, wishing the barricade wasn’t there, wanting to hear your voice and see your blushing cheeks without the slight blur from the scratched surface.

“I don’t know if I can handle that kind of pressure,” you laugh out, unconsciously leaning forward, focused on how much you love the way Nico’s hair flares out in little tufts on either side of his helmet.

“No pressure, just the truth,” Nico shrugs. He catches Jack out of the corner of his eye, remembering the younger forward’s words as he was pushed over here against his will. The small look of expectancy on Jack’s face pushes Nico to take the risk, deciding he’s done tiptoeing around his feelings for you.

“In fact, after we win this game due to the luck you have running through your veins, why don’t I take you out for a celebratory dinner? Or drinks? Or ice cream? Or whatever you want?” Nico starts rambling, his nerves sky rocketing once he sees the soft surprise take over your features.

You’re beginning to think the blush on your face is permanent at this point, feeling it grow deeper at his question. You’re trying to think of a clever response, not wanting to seem too eager, but you blurt out “Ice cream!” before your brain can stop your mouth.

Nico chuckles in both relief and amusement.

“Uhm, I mean, that sounds fun,” you try to recover. “As long I’m not blamed when this supposed ‘good luck’ backfires on everyone.”

Nico shakes his head, assuring you that’s not possible. The sound of the buzzer signaling warm ups are over startles you, feeling embarrassed at how much you jumped.

“Meet me after the game, okay? I’ll be in the tunnels, waiting,” Nico shouts before he skates off, giving a small wave.

Watching him glide away, something tugs at your stomach, telling you he’ll always be there waiting for you. Not just after games. Not just tonight.

Jack and your best friend look at each other through the glass, having witnessed the whole conversation. You’re so focused on Nico’s retreating figure that you don’t notice the air high five they give each other.

She toes the line between em’, he says he’s new at this; There’s holy ground beneath them, and sparks fly when they kiss; He hates it when she’s crying, he hates when she’s away; Even at their worst, they know they’ll still be okay

It’s your first time dealing with Nico being on the road for this long (over a week) since your impromptu ice cream date months ago. They ended up winning the game, so Nico kept his promise. By the time the game ended, however, every ice cream parlor he drove you to was closed.

He ended up taking you to the grocery store, telling you to pick out any flavor you wanted, and he’d take you back to his apartment for an ice cream party. He casually bought 10 half gallons of ice cream, because he claimed he couldn’t decide on a flavor. He set up an extravagant topping bar, too, and did a whole bit as if he worked in an ice cream shop.

Ever since that night, your ice cream dates became a routine, meeting him at his apartment after home games, bad days, and just nights you wanted to see him. The two of you were determined to eat through all of the ice cream he bought, Nico complaining that all the extra sugar was slowing him down on the ice.

Tonight, however, you were sitting in your apartment with your best friend, upset because you haven’t heard from Nico in three days.

“I’m sure they’re just busy, Y/n. I have a hard time believing Nico would just ghost you,” she tries to reason with you, not liking how down you seem.

“I thought that on day one, then again on day two. But then you came over and Jack has been messaging you for the past hour, so they’re obviously not busy right now,” you huff out, staring at your cold, black screen.

Despite how much time the two of you have been spending together, nothing has really changed between the two of you. There’s never been a conversation about what the cuddles on his couch mean, or the fact that you’ve been coming to all of his games that are in Jersey. You never discussed what it meant when he gave you one of his jerseys to wear, and you still haven’t given it back. Not a word about it was shared the night you tagged along to the bar with him and the rest of the team and he drove you home, walking you to your door because you were a little too tipsy, only a small goodbye shared after you stood in your doorway, staring back at him for an eternity.

“Well, Nico is the captain. Maybe he’s got other stuff going on that Jack doesn’t. Do you want me to ask Jack why-“

“No!” you’re quick to interrupt. “I don’t want him thinking I’m some level 3 clinger when we’re not even dating.”

She just rolls her eyes, everyone but the two of you aware that you’re basically dating without the label.

“Alright, I won’t. It was just a suggestion,” she puts her hands in the air, surrendering.

Looking at your phone again, you sigh at the lack of activity.

“They’re coming back tonight anyways, right? Maybe he’ll call when he gets back in. He might be asleep on the bus or something. Yeah, I’m sure that’s what it is,” you reassure yourself.

You best friend texts Jack anyways, tired of seeing you freak out over this, wanting to know why Nico just suddenly went radio silent on you the last three days of their roadie.

“Neeks,” Jack nudged Nico, knowing he was awake.

“What? I told you I just wanted to be left alone to sleep. I’m tired,” Nico snapped, his mood matching yours, even from miles away.

“Okay, mr pouty butt, no need to take my head off,” Jack responded, earning an eye roll from Nico. “Just wanna know why you’re in such a bad mood when you know you can call Y/n at anytime.”

Nico hadn’t talked to you in three days and it was killing him. Luke had made a comment about how often he called you, sometimes two to three times a day, and it made him worried he was being annoying, considering the two of you weren’t even officially together. But, he hadn’t heard from you, either, so he didn’t want to be the one to break the silence incase you really did think he was being clingy.

“I’m just…giving her space,” Nico shrugged, not wanting to get into the details with Jack on the slightly smelly bus.

“Whatever you want, man, but maybe you should call her when we get back. Just so she knows you’re not ghosting her,” he advises, not wanting to tell him that you’re sitting at home pouting just like he is. He didn’t want you to find out your best friend had betrayed your trust, either.

It’s like an alarm went off in Nico’s head. He never once thought that you’d think he just up and quit talking to you for no reason. Or because he didn’t want to. Because god, did he want to. All he ever wanted to do was talk to you. First thing in the morning, before he goes to bed at night, when he’s bored, when he sees a stray cat, when he passes by your favorite bakery, when he sees someone with a cup from your favorite coffee shop, always. He always wants to talk to you.

“Shit, you’re right,” Nico sits up, grabbing his phone and opening your contact.

“Uhh…he’s calling me,” you blurt out, finally seeing the Nico’s contact picture pop up on your phone screen, watching his smiling face with whipped cream everywhere stare back at you. “What do I do?”

“Answer it, dummy!” your best friend rolls her eyes at you.

“I don’t know if I want to,” you tell her, still just watching it ring. “He did just ghost me for three days, what if it makes me look pathetic?”

“Oh my god you’re not going to look pathetic, just answer the damn phone!”

You watch the phone screen go black, the decision being made for you.

“Well, I guess that answers that one. Or…doesn’t answer it,” you look up at her.

“I swear, you’re both so helpless,” she groans out, raking her hands down her face in frustration.

“Maybe he’ll get a taste of his own medicine,” you say, the taste of the words on your tongue bitter, knowing you should have just answered the phone.

“Whatever, I’m going to pick up Jack. He said they just got in, incase you were wondering,” she tells you before leaving your apartment, leaving you to sulk alone, again.

Nico rushes over to your apartment, praying that you’re still awake so he can fix this. After you didn’t answer his call, he freaked out, thinking he’s fucked this whole thing up before it even started.

Jack told him to just wait until tomorrow and try to call you again, but Nico needed to fix this now.

Nico barely puts his car in park before he’s running into your building, pressing the elevator button over and over again in hopes it’ll make the door open faster. Once he finally reaches your floor, he’s speed walking straight to your door, knocking on it like his life depends on seeing your face.

“Y/n! It’s me!” he tries not to shout, but he makes sure he speaks loud enough for you to hear him through the door. “Please open up. I wanna see you. Wanna talk to you,” he pleads.

He’s about to start the harsh assault on your door again, at this point trying to wake you up in case you had gone to sleep, just needing to see you and fix all of this.

He hears the lock click, his breath catching in his throat.

When you open the door, he’s met with you clad in your pajamas and hair haphazardly thrown on the top of your head in a knot. You look confused, not expecting to see him outside of your door this late at night.

“Nico?” is all you say, not knowing how else to react.

“Hey,” he breathes out, thinking about how cute you look right now, even if there is a frown on your face.

“It’s one o’clock in the morning, is something wrong? Didn’t you just get back? Why aren’t you home right now?” he sees you staring at his tired eyes with sympathy.

“I had to see you,” is all he can manage to say, not exactly having a plan.

He hears the small giggle come out of your mouth, loving the sound.

“Okay, well here I am,” you respond to him, switching your weight from one foot to the other.

Nico shakes his head, like he’s clearing his thoughts. “I had to see you, and fix this.”

He watches your face morph into confusion. “What do you mean?”

Maybe he was just being paranoid? And dramatic?

“This. Us. The fact that we haven’t spoken in three days,” he starts, knowing he was right when you stand a little taller, like you were bracing yourself. “I swear, I didn’t mean to just go silent on you. Luke got in my head, made me think I was being annoying. I got a little crazy thinking about how ‘we’re not even dating, why am I being so clingy right now?’, but then I realized, I want to be clingy. I want to talk to you every hour of every day. I want to be dating you.”

He hears your gasp. “You…what?”

“I want to be your boyfriend,” he speaks softer and slower this time. “Hell, according to Jack I basically already am. But I want it to be real. I want us to be real.”

He watches the tears fill your eyes.

“Hey, hey, hey. No, I didn’t mean to make you cry, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he reaches forward, pulling you into a hug.

“No, it’s fine, I’m not-“ you can’t finish your sentence, Nico squishing your face into his chest.

“I’m new to all this, okay? I don’t know what I’m doing half the time, I don’t have much experience actually dating people. I didn’t want to scare you away by moving too fast, but then I kinda did the opposite, huh?” he keeps talking, his nerves getting the best of him once again.

“Nico, listen to me,” you pull back, looking up to meet his brown eyes. “I want this too.”

Nico breaks into a smile so wide you think his skin is going to split.

“I don’t know how to do this either,” you confess. “I don’t know how to get used to you being gone all the time, I don’t know how to have these conversations, I don’t know how to keep myself from falling so fast, but I want to figure out how to do it with you.”

He wipes at the tears under your eyes. “Even if they’re happy tears, I don’t like seeing them in your eyes.”

Once again, that blush that seems to be a permanent fixture on your face makes an appearance.

“I’m sorry I didn’t answer your call earlier. I was being a brat and trying to give you a taste of your own medicine,” you confess, embarrassed.

“I’m sorry, too. For letting Luke get in my head and then pouting because you never called me,” he responds, sounding just as guilty as you feel.

“Promise me we won’t be bratty with each other again? I don’t like it, it seems very out of character for us?” you ask, looking up and resting your chin on his chest.

“Promise,” he tells you, staring down at you.

You move your head back, feeling the moment intensify.

“I’m going to kiss you now, okay?” he whispers.

“Okay.”

His lips feel exactly as you imagined, soft and plush, slotting against your bottom lip perfectly.

As you walk backwards, leading him into your apartment, you can feel the sureness of this. How right it feels. How, no matter what comes at the two of you, no matter if it’s something big or a silly little misunderstanding like tonight, you’ll always come out okay on the other end.

He laughs at her eyes, at her smile, at the glasses on her face; She loves how he talks late at night, when there’s no one else to say; How she’s beautiful and funny and smart like nothin’ he’s ever seen; He’s good to her, and she wants it more than everything in-between

“I can’t believe they made us sit through that god-awful play,” you say as Nico unlocks his door. “I mean, the entire thing was in French. I don’t speak French! And neither does Jack! I swear, I love my best friend, I do, but just because she was a French double major in college doesn’t mean everything we do has to be in French.”

Nico chuckles at you, having understood the play quite well. “I told you I could play translator if you wanted me to, but you said no,” he takes off your coat, hanging it on the small set of hooks in his entry way.

“It was more fun to make up my own plot,” you shrug, taking off your shoes and making your way to his couch.

Laughing at you again, Nico makes a pit stop in his kitchen to make both of you a small bowl of ice cream before joining you on the couch.

“You know, I really like it when you wear your glasses, you should wear them more often,” he blurts out, handing you your bowl.

“These bug-eyed things?” you pull a face, earning a real, belly laugh from him. “I’m sorry? Does my face look funny or something?”

He waits until he catches his breath to reply. “Not at all. My beautiful, bug-eyed girlfriend.”

You don’t know why you even buy blush anymore, not ever having to wear any around Nico. “I love that you always say things to give me an ego boost,” you joke.

“I’m being serious,” he responds, the change in his tone confusing you. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. You’re the smartest woman I’ve ever met, and the funniest jokester I’ve ever interacted with.”

“You did not just seriously call me a ‘jokester’” you deadpan, ruining the moment.

“Hush, woman, I’m trying to compliment you here,” he lightly scolds, earning a laugh from you. “I’m trying to tell you how much I love you, and you’re caught up on my choice of words.”

You’re stunned to silence. “You…love me?”

“Of course I love you? I’d be crazy not to,” he takes the bowl of half-melted ice cream from your hands and places it on the small table in front of you.

“I’d be crazy not to love you back,” you tell him, sliding your arms around his torso as he crawls over to hover over you.

“Glad neither of us are crazy then,” he whispers onto your lips as he meets them in a kiss.

The kiss is slow and sweet, both of you taking your time savoring one another. You can taste the caramel ice cream on his lips, enhancing his already intoxicating taste.

You think about how hard you’ve fallen for this man. You think you fell for him on your first ‘date’, really, just too scared to say anything until now.

Unknown to you, Nico is thinking the same thing, kicking himself for not telling you sooner.

You also think about how much you love living life with Nico. How he always seems to know how to cheer you up when you’re upset. How he brings you coffee and bagels every morning on his way home from workouts. How he plans double date nights with Jack and your best friend, knowing that you feel like you neglect her sometimes, being too caught up in your life with him.

He treats you better than you’ve ever been treated, not being used to having someone be so attentive and all in as he is.

Nico was the surprise you didn’t know you needed. And while you can’t wait to see where the two of you end up in the future, you love the moments like this, and everything in-between.

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badomensgoodomens · 1 month ago

Text

BAD DECISIONS

CHAPTER TWO.

Noah Sebastian X reader

cw: emo. and mention of taylor swift. if u have a problem with that please get over it.

taglist at bottom of post.

He stared at the computer in front of him, nothing was working, the lyrics weren’t flowing and he was just a mess. his knee bounced up and down, his thoughts constantly went back to her, it had been a week since she completely shut him out. Blocked him and removed him from everything. All because he couldn't give her what she wanted.

he jumped out of his skin when he heard a knock on the door. “Come in” he croaked out, Nick's face scrunched up as he entered the studio, wincing at the bags under Noah's eyes. “You look like actual shit man.” he states, setting down a plate of food. He pulls up a chair next to him, grunting at the way it scraped along the wood floors. “Right, you won’t talk to jolly, you won’t talk to nicholas, what's got your knickers in a twist?” he said, resting his hands on his thighs. He came from good intent obviously, but it was painful how the boys wouldn't leave him alone.

“What are you? The fucking IRS?” Noah grumbled, picking at the food. “Is it a girl?” Nick asked, taking notice of the way Noah tensed. “It is a girl!!! Tell me everything.”

“Dude. you're crazy. If an art hoe is in love with you, you gotta bag her.” Nick said, nudging Noah. He shook his head, sighing. “You know I'm not ready for that.” Nick audibly groaned. “It’s always Natasha bro. You need to get over her.”

“I am over her! It’s just…” Noah took a deep breath. “You know how I am with commitment after that.”

Nick sighed, his shoulders visibly dropping.

“Lets get you into some therapy, hey?”

She was gutted, crying to every single Taylor Swift song that was even remotely related to her current situation. It took her a couple days to even leave the house. No long drive through the city, accompanied by fast food and sad songs, could save her from this. Her sister, Nevada, always told her never to fall too hard for a situationship, but I guess that advice fell on deaf ears.

‘Us’ played over the radio as she cruised through the bustling city part of florida.

‘I wonder if you regret, the secret of us’

Hearing those words sung was almost laughable, she was a silly girl for ever believing that she was in love. Tears clouded her vision as she drove, rain beating down on her windshield. It was only September, yet the seasons were changing drastically.

“I just wanted to be yours.”

The words came out in a broken whisper, almost a plea. Truth be told, she barely knew Noah. Never cared to look into his social status, his music, what he was like other than the feeling of his sex. She had created this false idea of what he was outside of sex. It made her want to tear her hair out.

Eventually, she couldn’t go any farther. She pulled over, her hands shaking as she gripped the steering wheel, tears blurring her vision until the world outside became a hazy mess. She sobbed, gasping for breath, as though trying to expel the weight that had settled deep in her chest. All she could think was that she was waiting—for a sign, for some kind of message, anything that would make sense of the chaos, that would make this unbearable ache stop. A text. A call. A word, just one word to tell her it wasn’t really over, that there was still something left to hold on to.

It was a futile effort, her and Noah meant next to nothing. How is one supposed to build a thriving relationship off of a sex bond?

After a long phone call with her sister, she came to the conclusion she needed a change of scene. This town had seen too much of her, from every highschool heartbreak, to coming home at 4am from the club. Her art was never appreciated here either, no success at markets, or even by word of mouth. Her day job was excruciating, a boring cubicle with endless paperwork. Multiple times she’d considered giving up, leaving this boring life to live in a trailer park with some junkies, or move to LA and become a stripper.

It took awhile, but she packed up her studio, and her small townhouse, and took the long drive across to her sister’s house in California. Nevada had so graciously offered her a job as the barista in the small, quaint coffee shop she and her husband owned. She fell in love with Dawn in senior year, she was a cheerleader and he played in the band. He had successfully set off within the music industry, thus providing financial support to nevadas small coffee shop that probably loses 30k a year.

After a terrible night's sleep in a cheap, shitty motel, she pulled up to her sister's big white house. They both welcomed her with open arms, setting up the guest bedroom to be her temporary home until she got back on her feet. Her paintings being stored in the back shed.

For a while, things had been good. She was in a better place mentally, her routine steady with a reliable income from the coffee shop. Life in California was finally starting to feel right—like everything was falling into place. But then, as if on cue, her past came rushing back. Her ex from high school walked into the café, his new girlfriend in tow, and just when she thought she had control, disaster struck: the back shed went up in flames.

Her ex was just taunting, but the shed was gut wrenching. Her past lay scattered like ashes in the wind, each memory a flicker of flame extinguished, leaving only whispers of who she once was. Just as the remnants of a life turned to smoke drift into the afterlife, so too did her former self dissolve into the ether, leaving behind a haunting silence where laughter and light once thrived.

Dawn apologised profusely, explaining that his electrical gardening equipment had spontaneously combusted, turning everything, including the shed exterior, to ash. She brushed him off, it wasn’t his fault whatsoever, it was just daunting that she’d have to put all that behind her.

It was going to happen inevitably, but a more appropriate exit would have sufficed. She managed to book some therapy sessions. Just barely being able to pay for them. I mean, music in itself was a perfect form of therapy,

“It only hurts this much right now.”

Were the words she whispered at the beginning of each session. They were draining, and fried her social battery almost immediately. But they were helpful. Dr Sanchez was able to help her label the fact she allowed herself to fall easily, despite knowing the boundaries of their situationship.

It was hard, having to deal with the different diagnoses that came with therapy. Especially how Dr Sanchez was able to offer medication for Adhd and anxiety. It made her question a lot about her childhood. Her dad, who was never there, did not believe in mental health, much less not abusing his children. Her mom however was riddled with mental health issues, which definitely contributed to the divorce. Hence why Nevada was so quick to move away.

9/10 times when she got home from therapy, she would escape to her room. Instead of painting, she opted for drawing, sitting in front of the big window. The sun set, illuminating the soft pout of her lips as she concentrated, and the small dimples in her cheeks. She watched as the cars drove past, taking note of the gradual transition to headlights. Her mind subconsciously drifted back to her old life, having pondered so much of it with Dr Sanchez, it was almost a daily occurrence.

He had spent the past month drinking himself hopefully into a coma. He was butthurt for no reason, not even about y/n, but about everything, about Natasha. He had a nightmare about her recently, it set him back quite a bit, almost reversing all the therapy it took to get here. It was then that he made the conscious decision to take folios advice, and go back to therapy.

He kept drinking for a while after that, despite Jolly's constant complaints. Some of his best songs had always come from his drunk thoughts. Right now, they were deep into working on their newest album, fine-tuning each track. It was a shift in direction—blending elements of The Weeknd’s atmospheric style with hints of Bring Me The Horizon’s intensity

At the start of their new album cycle, Noah had 3 demos in production. The songs were oddly personal compared to previous albums, the boys just assumed Noah was finally channelling and dealing with his emotions through song following his return to therapy.

Not one week goes by where Noah doesn’t ponder about what could’ve been, with both Natasha and y/n. They honestly didn’t live far, Noah even considered visiting them. I’m sure Natasha would’ve been thrilled, y/n not so much. Didn’t stop him though, a whole year after they stopped talking, Noah found himself planted in front of y/n's house. Standing face to face with an empty block of land.

‘Fuck.’

It invoked something in him, an odd feeling that left him feeling unsettled and kind of woozy. He didn’t love her, he swore up and down he’d never date someone again. But as he slowly pushed his pride and fears aside, maybe she had wormed her way into his heart. With her warm skin and the scent of her perfume, or perhaps the cheeky smile always slung across her face.

It made him a little suicidal that he had somebody infront of him, that despite the sole purpose of their relationship was to be greedy, and seek sexual pleasure from eachother with no strings attached, was so, so deeply infatuated with him. He felt guilty that he wasn’t ready and in the right place to hand himself over to someone, yet still agreed to be friends with benefits. It was a selfish act, nobody could connect in the way that they did, and not fall in love.

Nothing has ever felt so wrong.

Tour had kicked off, something to distract Noah. He wrote and scrapped so many songs in the two years he had between touring. His song writing, and the new album sumerian was egging for, were a losing battle.

On a particularly windy night, Noah was sitting in the confines of his tiny bunk, hunched over his notebook. Nicholas poked his head in, staring at the tall man, concern lacing his tone. “You look like shit.” his words echo within the bus, earning a grunt of agreement from Joakim.

Noah rubbed a hand over his face, the words scribbled on the page barely making sense. “I know.” he grunted, crossing out a line. “Look, i get that sumerians on your dick about the new album but-” Noah cut him off, waving his hand in his face. “I don’t have time for a break. I’ve pushed it back far enough.” Noah grumbled out, pulling the black fabric of his curtain along the rod, concealing himself from his concerned bandmates.

‘I’m taking it slowly, you’d never know’

‘Her skin feels unholy, but I'm still drawn.’

‘No god, no religion. Just bad, bad decisions.’

The words made no sense by themselves, but they sounded right. He took a swig of hennessy, the bitterness burning his tongue. it almost made him laugh, thinking back to that night. Their relationship was just one, big bad decision.

‘Bitter ends to the night’

‘I'm along for the ride.’

‘Out of breath out of time.’

‘Everything has a price.’

The way everything flowed together made Noah want to tear his own skin.

‘You can be all ive got, what's the difference?’

‘Hennessy, and a lot of bad decisions.’

The song itself made Noah think deeply if perhaps everything that happened had stemmed from his ‘slight’ alcohol problem that had lingered from the stress of last tour. He had managed to polish off a whole bottle of hennessy and a whole new song by 2am. Drunkenly sliding under the covers to fall asleep.

He awoke to Nick and Nicholas standing above him, reading the notebook he had forgotten to stash away. Immediate regret filled his stomach, this is not what he needed.

“Yooo is this about art hoe? Damn bro she got you messed up,” Nick said, laughing.

“Who the fuck is art hoe?” Nicholas says, brows furrowed as he read over the lyrics.

Noah rubbed his hands over his face, groaning internally. He was hungover and not about to deal with their shit today.

READERS POV

I tied the apron around my waist with a weary sigh. Morning shifts at the café were always tough. It was early November, and winter was starting to creep in, its chill settling in the air. After flicking on the lights, I got to work, preparing the weekly specials with practised ease.

A small interchangeable collection of cakes Nevada and I designed. I’ve taken an interest in design lately, taking short classes at the local uni. I was gradually ticking off the long strenuous list of chores when the bell above the door rang. Looking up, I met the eyes of a happy looking boy.

“Hey, what can I get you?” I smiled up at him, his dark brown hair was loosely combed back, his nose adorned a silver ring, a grin on his face.

“I’ve got quite the order, if you don’t mind.” he said, pulling his phone out. I internally groan, peering over the counter to the long message laying out his order.

“Okay.. perfect. Let me just type that into the system..” I hummed, lip between my teeth as I focused. “Alright, name?” I said, looking up at the boy, taking notice of the casualness, and sweetness radiating off of him.

“Nick” he replied, a small smile on his face. He really was beautiful, ugh. And youthful, how old was this guy? “Alright, that’ll be $63.80” I respond, a little astounded myself at the price. “Fuck, sorry one moment please.” he smiled, pulling his phone out. I make myself busy, cleaning up my mess from before, managing to catch on briefly to the end of his phone call conversation.

“Alright, I'll just use the band card-”

Huh. Maybe this guy is a musician or something. I've definitely dealt with a fareshare of musicians.

All done?" I asked, smiling at him. He nodded, handing over the payment for the drinks. The bell above the door jingled as Nevada rushes in, offering a flurry of hurried apologies as she quickly tied her apron and hurried behind the counter.

It took a while, but we finally sent Nick off with his seven drinks. The day moved slowly after that—Fridays aren’t exactly prime café days. Most people prefer hitting up bars or catching a gig. I used to enjoy concerts, but these days, I’ve become more of a homebody.

“Yo dude i saw the cutest girl at the coffee shop-” Noah groaned, having heard enough of Nick’s questionable relationship choices while on tour. “No- seriously, she had this long, thick hair. She probably has a boyfriend though. Californian boys snatch the hot ones up real quick-” fuck? This kid was yapping.

“Do you say that about every girl you see?” Jolly snorted, throwing a pillow in Nick's direction. He scoffed, throwing it back. The smaller boy sits down next to Noah on the bunks, handing him a controller. “You’re all so uptight, come on, play a round of mario kart with me.”

Nights like these always ended the same, drunk rounds of mario kart followed by play fighting until everyone was too tired to move. The sun set hours ago, yet Noah found himself sitting on the bus roof with his notebook. The creative flair just wasn’t quite there though, the page having been empty for the past hour. He was feeling so many different, violent emotions, yet none at the same time. It was hard to portray these emotions in a controlled way, especially during tour. He tried not to let the boys see him when he was most vulnerable, wanting to maintain the respect they had for him. It was unrealistic, almost like a ticking time bomb.

When Noah went back inside, Nicholas, his best friend, was the only one still awake. They sat opposite each other on the leather couch, beer in hand. “How’s the missus?” Noah slurred, taking a swig. “Ivy’s good, I really wanna marry her, yaknow?” Nicholas slurred back. The mention of marriage knocks the breath out of Noah’s lungs. “I wanted to marry Natasha.” he drunkenly murmured, slumping back on the couch. “I think she was a porn star.” Nicholas mumbled, his words make Noah laugh.

She laid staring at her ceiling, the window, which faced the city, was cracked open the slightest. Something so melancholic, yet comforting about laying in the dark, just feeling feelings.

Not even about anyone in particular, just feelings.

She knew she needed to be awake at 6am for work, but the feeling pooling in her stomach was addicting, overwhelming, and most of all, fucking amazing. It was like a coil, seconds away from laughing, seconds away from crying.

hi gang!!! see, this one is somewhat better than the first chapter. I understand if you feel that this story is moving too fast but honey... this is just the beginning xoxo.

reply to be added to the taglist x

Tags: @emluvsuxo @Ima1986 @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @briefpersonenemy

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nuitfilms · 7 months ago

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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀[ 𝐋𝐄𝓝𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝓥𝐎𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐒 ] jeon soyeon

␥ (g)i-dle’s soyeon x fem!reader ␥ 784 words 🚨 SMUT, power imbalance (senior-junior), idol non-au, hair pulling, recording session, gagging on her fingers ␥ there’s always room for one to learn, and you learn a little more about you (and her) after spending three days recording a song with her.

Jeon Soyeon is an ace in the game and everyone knows that.

She captures the audience with her charismatic stage presence, wows her industry seniors with her rapping skills, and churns out more songs than she could ever utilize for her career. Some of them get gifted or sold to other artists to avoid them being locked in the archives.

That is how you were able to be connected to the idol rapstar herself. While you have chosen to remain in the shadows with your music as an underground artist, Soyeon’s discovery of you leads you to the transition of a more public career. You quickly amass a social media presence, find yourself slipping away from SoundCloud, and cementing yourself on Spotify’s million monthly listeners club along with your favorite artists.

You, too, have a way with words in your lyrics, but you could never deny the opportunity to learn more, and to be better. Being talented enough to be gifted a song from Soyeon is one thing, but actually working with her in the recording studio is another.

You’ve been seeing her in her element for over three days. While you can swiftly tune and refine your work, Soyeon takes a little more time to do so. There are minor details that she will rework, and you patiently work with her through it because this is a new perspective for you. Your production will certainly differ from a seasoned idol’s production.

But spending three long days together has made you both discover some new things about each other.

And yourselves.

It’s the middle of the night. Your heavy eyelids threaten to draw to a close, but your back is pinned up against the wall of the small recording booth. Soyeon is tucked between your legs—one of them propped over her shoulder—and her mouth is doing inexplicable things to your pussy as her slender fingers are inside you.

Your head tips back, mouth falling open with sharp pants and suppressed moans as you struggle to stay upright. The flickering red light that indicates the session being recorded doesn’t go unnoticed but you’re too out of it (or way too into it) to care. Your mind is simply polluted by the flicks of her tongue on your throbbing clit, the sharpness of her teeth when she sucks on it bringing your back to an arch.

You fist at her hair, clenching at her roots and pushing her head closer, and she greedily laps at your dripping cunt.

“Don’t be shy,” she coos, her curled fingers thrusting deeper. “Let the mic hear you loud and clear.”

“I’m trying,” you gasp.

“Try harder.”

A sudden smack on your pussy breaks your silence. You yelp as the sharp sensation persists, her hand repeatedly swatting where you’re most sensitive. Your hip bucks at each hit, your moans gradually morphing into pathetic cries, pitched yelps, and pleas for mercy.

Soyeon gets an ego boost as she watches you crumble. Your creamy wetness coats her fingers and drips down to her wrist as she fucks you. If only she had her strap on hand, she would’ve completely ravaged you into the early hours of the morning but who would really carry that around?

And who knew you would give in so quickly?

“Soyeon.. sunbae,” you pant as your thighs tremble. “So close, so close, so close..”

Her mouth promptly finds your clit and the rapid strokes of her tongue—partnered with her fingers inside you—brings you to ecstasy. She moans as the prettiest noises fall from your lips. Your exposed tits hang from the neckline of your low cut top, and she observes them jiggling as you rock your hips against her face. She gladly accepts her fate of nearly seeing the light when your thighs lock up around her head.

When you release your grip on her hair, she falls back and marvels at the lewd, disheveled sight. You’re clawing at the walls behind you, panting and catching your breath. She eyes your slick-coated thighs. Her gaze lowers a little more, and she smirks at the puddle of your cum on the floor.

“What a messy, messy girl,” she remarks as she gets back on her feet.

She approaches you, closing you off with her hand to the wall above your head, and shoves her slick-coated digits into your mouth. You didn’t expect her to do that, therefore gagging at the sudden intrusion.

“You’re gonna sound so good on this song.”

Heat rushes to your face, and warmth steadily flows to the pit of your stomach again. Looking Soyeon in the eyes almost gives you a glimpse into the future.

One that involves you being pinned down on her bed instead.

#girl group imagines #girl group smut #gidle imagines #gidle smut #soyeon imagines #soyeon smut #x fem!reader #hoping to write a little more but rn i’m only capable of drabbles 🥲

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vikspretty · 4 months ago

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message in a bottle

you and spencer are best friends, but you both want more

masterlist

pairing: spencer reid x reader

tags: intern tech analyst! reader, no use of y/n, literal taylor lyrics as speech, academic inaccuracies (im british), rushed ending (and all throughout tbh), not proofread (it's 4:35am), season 5 reid, boyband hair reid, fluff!!!

notes: bro. the amount of times i rewrote this before i finally settled on the idea i actually liked. and as i write these notes before actually writing out the fic listning to this song im getting more ideas. hopefully this one is quite a bit longer.

wc: 1,550

"I'm reachin' for you, terrified, 'Cause you could be the one that I love, I could be the one that you dream of, Message in a bottle is all I can do, Standin' here, hopin' it gets to you" - Taylor Swift's 'Message in a Bottle (Taylor's Version) (From The Vault)

It was clear to everyone that there was something between you and the BAU's resident genius. So clear infact, that even the two of you knew it. Many times your brain had danced on the idea of confessing, or even just going up to Spencer and asking for sure if he liked you, but you already had that confirmation from Morgan through a voice message he had sent you of Spencer admitting his feelings one time when they had gone out.

At first, the thing you had found frightening was the fact that your best friend liked you. You didn't know what you were supposed to do with that information. But the more you thought about it, the more you realised that what actually frightens you is the fact that those feelings are reciprocated ten-fold, you just weren't sure on how you felt about them being out in the open to him -- and so, you found other ways to show your feelings. You wanted to ensure that Spencer knew you cared for him more than a normal friend did, but you also wanted to make sure that it could still be played off as a friendly gesture if anyone asked or if he was to find someone else.

You always thought Spencer was beautiful, both in the way he acted and especially the way he looked. When he had come in slightly late to a briefing with a brand new hair cut, it's safe to say you were hypnotized. Then when Hotch made his comment about Spencer's new haircut making him look like a boyband member, you could see Morgan's face waiting for your comment, as you had many times mentioned about how certain boyband members were attractive. But you couldn't pull your eyes from Spencer. He hadn't noticed, but when it was your turn to make a comment on the case, you were tongue-tied, stumbling over your words. This then prompted Spencer to later pull you to the side to ask if you were okay because for you to stutter in front of people like that was an extremely rare occurrence.

Realising you definitely wanted more out of yours and Spencer's relationship, you went for leaving him more obvious hints. You wanted to make sure he knew what you meant by your gifts so you'd write flirty notes and leave them on the front pages of books you'd give him, or attach little comments to the cups of coffee you'd buy him. You were sure this would work, but then work took over.

As an intern, you had certain times when you weren't in the office helping Garcia out and were instead in classes and study sessions to prepare for exams. Usually, you would try your best to help Garcia and the team from her office while also studying there, however, you had your biggest, most important one coming up, and Hotch had given you the time off to allow you to focus on it, ensuring you that the team would be just fine without you for a few weeks.

At the beginning of this break, you'd study in your apartment and Spencer would come over with take-out to help where he could and to just keep you company, you studying while he read on your couch. However, the team had been called to Las Vegas on a gruelling case, so times for you and Spencer to talk were very limited. Even when they got back, Spencer had vaguely mentioned that he had seen his mother while in Vegas and wanted to see if he could get her into another programme. You still had about a week to your exam so studying became more frequent and time to talk and hangout with Spencer became very sparse, sometimes going days without talking at all.

Eventually, your exam had passed and so came the long wait for your result. You were back at the BAU, and even though they had hit a dry spell of cases, paperwork and training did not. The mornings would drag, but when it would come to lunch, you and Spencer had decided to take it together everyday, often heading to a local cafe for an hour to talk and just have a break.

On a seemingly endless workday, a day where you didn't get a chance to stop for lunch, there was a knock at the door of yours and Garcia's shared office.

As the door opened, you both looked up, your smile immediately widening at the view of your best friend holding a tea and a bag of what you assumed was something from a bakery the two of you had found a while back.

"To what do we owe the pleasure Doctor?" Garcia's teasing tone was unmissable as she gave you a side look with a smirk, knowing exactly what had prompted the visit.

"Well, someone, skipped out on me for lunch today so I decided to bring it here, and don't worry I got you some too Garcia."

Garcia took her food and made it seem like she went back to work but in reality she was watching as you and Spencer chatted.

Spencer soon left to get back to his own pile of paperwork and you watched the door a few seconds too long after he left, your daze only breaking at the sound of Garcia's voice. "Girl. You need to tell him, I know you said you were leaving him hints but I don't think he got them, I think you need to be clear and just tell him."

The only word going through your head was 'disaster'. Not in the terms of your relationship, but in the terms of you knew you were going to go through with it and risk everything.

At the end of the work day you made sure to be ready to leave for when Spencer also would be leaving. Running a little to catch up to him by the elevator you shouted his name. "Spence, hey."

"Hi, you didn't have to run, I would've waited for you." He said, laughing a little as you regained your breath now on the elevator.

"Yeah yeah, anyway, movie night?"

Spencer's smile grew even wider than it already was as he nodded and followed you to your car when you got to the parking lot.

It took a while for you to finally gain the courage to confess. In your head as you left the BAU, you had told yourself to do it as soon as you arrived at your apartment, but that nagging part of your brain told you to be a little selfish and enjoy what could be the last few hours of normalcy between the two of you if this were to go downhill.

Two movies later and Chinese take-out on your coffee table, you turned to Spencer.

"You could be the one that I love."

There was silence.

You weren't sure why you had phrased it like that, knowing Spencer would be confused, and this was evident in his face: his eyebrows scrunched in confusion as he finished chewing his food, turning to you.

"And I could be the one that you dream of."

You cringed inwardly at yourself again, willing yourself to just express your feelings normally, but just as you went to speak again, Spencer beat you to it. "You're already the one I dream of. My every thought is consumed by you. I've noticed your hints, pretty girl, all of them, the notes, the extra gifts, which by the way, I love but you really do not need to be spending that much on me, I know how much limited book editions cost and you've bought me five in the past two months. Anyway. I am in love with you and I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier but you seemed to have a lot of work and I wanted to make sure I wouldn't add to that if those 'hints' turned out to just be friendly."

You were stunned, and your lack of response seemed to invite Spencer to continue.

"You are the one that I love. You have been for a long time. I think I've spent more time being in love with you than I have just thinking of you as a friend."

Stupidly, instead of saying anything, you just looked down at your lap. You didn't know what to say. You weren't entirely sure what you were expecting to come out of your 'confession', but Spencer's words were not an expectation in any of your many thoughts of how this would play out.

"Please say something, if I've got it wrong, please let me know so that I can leave-"

The idea of him leaving seemed to pull you from your stun. "No! Please don't leave. I'm sorry, I just never expected you to say anything like that. I played this all out in my head so many times but I never expected you to think of me that way. I am so unbelievably happy and in love with you Dr. Spencer Reid."

Cringing at the use of his full titled name, he muttered out a "Shush you," as he cupped your cheek, pulling you into his lips.

Your message in a bottle got to it's destination.

i won't lie, this is so rushed and i actually kind of hate how it turned out, but it is 4:31am and i am tired but i just really wanted to get this out. at least it's longer than my last two fics. i might come back and edit it but for now, here it is. either way, i hope you enjoyed and please send requests, the people i can write for are in my masterlist!

dividers by @cafekitsune

thank you for reading!

#criminal minds #spencer reid #x reader #spencer reid x reader #one shot #criminal minds x reader #fluff #red taylor’s version #taylor swift #message in a bottle #message in a bottle (taylor's version)

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ferrstappen · 2 years ago

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loving him is red l Charles Leclerc Imagine

a/n: it’s been YEARS since I've written something but I have too many ideas and time so I'll give it a try again <3 any feedback is appreciated and than you for reading <3

also, of course the only song I could think of is Red by Taylor Swift (taylor’s version ofc)... I mean... how could I not?

genre: fluff.

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x female singer!reader.

summary: Charles’ girlfriend receives her first Grammy for Song of the Year, sadly enough the inspiration behind the song isn’t able to make it to the ceremony.

“This feels so wrong, I should be there to support you... You’re always here for races and shit” Charles said while watching her get ready on a fancy hotel room, meanwhile he was stuck in Maranello.

“Please don’t, it’s pre-season and all that, you know they needed you there today. Plus, I'll be home by tomorrow so we can celebrate... or you can console me since I'm probably losing anyway.” (Y/N) quietly said the last part while sipping some expensive sparkling wine her assistant brought to the room.

“You are not losing! Babe, how many times do I need to tell you that?” Charles sounded truly exasperated with his girlfriend, like he truly had told her many many times.

Truth be told, she never thought she would be considerate at all. Yes, her label had submitted her second album and the first single of the record, but they were almost obligated to do so, it was an unspoken rule in the music industry that you just had to do the entire “for your Grammy consideration” portfolio if you wanted to be taken seriously, but (Y/N) never really thought the song she first released from her album would be such a hit.

Honestly, they just were words her heart could think of whenever she saw Charles, because he truly was red... In the way he wore the color so proudly, from the way his car was always a shiny red even when he was driving it in the driest of the deserts, to the way he loved her so passionately, fearlessly and undoubtedly... He was red.

It never made sense to her that millions around the world would mix her lyrics on Ferrari t-shirts or that fans would wait for Charles on the stands with bright red lyrics of the song.

He loved it, by the way. He would flush a bright red whenever someone on the grid teased him about it, pretended he was shy about everyone knowing those words were for him, but his heart would sing a little every single time he listened or read the verses meant for him, just as he would make sure the camera would capture your cute face over FaceTime when he got a podium and you couldn’t be here, or how he made sure to tell you his best joke when you’d arrive to the paddock holding hands, loving the way the photographers captured your laugh and the glint in his eyes just by being the reason of your smile.

He had the superior relationship and he just knew it, and he made sure the rest of the word knew it as well.

“So, are you finally going to show me the dress?” Charles said while putting his headphones on to ignore the world outside of his driver’s room.

She cheekily smiled. “No, not really” She told him, earning a dissatisfied groan from him.

“Then when do you want me to see it? On TV like the rest of the world?” He argued, his accent getting thicker.

“Actually yes, that’s exactly what I was thinking.” (Y/N) was going to keep talking, but her assistant let her know the dress had just arrived and they needed her full attention.

“No, I heard that! You can mute me and I’ll just watch over here!” Charles pleaded, earning a heartily laugh from her girlfriend.

“I’m so sorry, bebé. I have to go, but you can watch me on TV though!”

Charles sighed, unable to hide his grin. “You know I'll be glued, I don’t care about the time or anything,” even through his noise-cancelling headphones he could hear a big commotion outside his room, meaning someone would come knocking on his door soon. He took a deep breath before focusing his eyes on his muse again. “I love you so much, chérie. I’m so proud of you and whatever happens tonight doesn’t change that. Please whatever you need I'll have my phone at all times, I’m capable of stoping the car in the middle of nowhere and you know it,” they both laughed. “I’m right there with you, I love you.”

She repeated the same words over and over again, feeling a bit numb as several people helped her fitting the red Maison Valentino dress to perfection. It was a whirlwind from there, the last glance she took of herself in the mirror was to make sure the small prancing horse shaped stud earrings, a nod to her man watching on tv.

As if writing a Grammy nominated song and almost an entire album about him wasn’t enough...

Her hands couldn’t help the tingling on the palm of her hands, her body knowing she was missing her other half; he always needed to fix his tie or style a stubborn strand of hair, and it always calmed her nerves to take care of him.

Back in Italy, Charles was anxiously watching the TV in front of him, some friends, including Carlos, were sitting around the living room, mindlessly chatting about some of the artists performing on the Grammys, what were the plans for the night, the next Real Madrid game...

But Charles eyes were trained on his girl smiling in front of the TV, feeling giddy as she gracefully walked down the carpet on her silky red dress, eyes shining and smile intoxicating.

The night flew by and Charles swore he could feel your hand squeezing his as they announced the category he had been waiting for. Harry Styles was on the stage with the envelope.

Everything went by so quickly, Charles didn’t notice his friends had shut up and were with their eyes trained on the TV. They all collectively gasped when the brit announced Red by (Y/N) as the song of the year.

Then it was just noise; from the TV, from people cheering on the theatre as she hid her face on the palm on her hands, to the living room where Charles had rose to his feet hugging everyone around him.

To anyone on the outside it would’ve seemed like their country had won the World Cup.

“God, I don’t know how to begin,” She shakily said while holding the gramophone. “I know I’m supposed to say that this is for my fans and my label and everyone who believed in me, and it is but...” She smiled to herself. “This is for you, the inspiration behind every word, every verse, every note. My incredible boyfriend who makes my heart sing and my life happy. They haven’t invented the words to tell you how much I love you,” She could feel tears building on the corner of her eyes, until she saw a stage producer informing she only had ten seconds left to wrap up her speech. “God, just ten seconds? Thank you so much to everyone, Char I love you with my entire heart, and thank you to everyone for this I’ll always have this moment in my heart, even after I’m gone I’m sure this is gonna be engraved. Thank you!”

The camera captured her glistening eyes as she smiled through the lens. Charles had unshed tears as his heart was beating loudly. Only seconds passed until his phone was vibrating with an incoming FaceTime call.

“So... Did you like the red dress?” She joked and he laughed through the unshed proud tears. He never knew he could feel so much pride and love for another person.

He chuckled. “I loved it, and I love you so much words cannot explain. Fuck, how come I wasn’t there?”

Their love was red.

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc au #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc x you

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ilooklikeaburntchickenugget · 2 months ago

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helloo! idk if youre taking requests, but if you do i was thinking of revenge era gee with fem reader who is also a well know singer. like shes on tour and does some festival mcr is playing at and shes really mainstream so the guys dont have high expectations on her music but then they watch her play and they're like "fuck, she actually does know what shes doing" and somehow her and gee exchange numbers and start texting all day long bc theyre both on tour

idk if this makes any sense tbh.

i saw one picture of ts on the red tour that looks like if it was taken with a shitty flip phone and thought of this somehow

anyway, feel free to ignore this and have a good day :D

Title: Happily Ever Accident

A/N: Hey y'all I know it's been actually forever but I saw this in my inbox and thought it was cute so managed to somehow write this amidst midterms season. Idk how but it happened. It's also not thoroughly proof-read because tbh I'm tried and lazy right now. But here's some content for y'all for once. Also, side note, but as I was writing this I was visioning reader as a Sabrina Carpenter-esc figure. Just in the sense of popularity, stage presence, etc. Pairing: Gerard Way (circa mid-2005) x F!PopStar!Reader Word count: 7,978 words Warnings: Swearing, mentions of insecurity

Low expectations. The constant standard he had set for almost every single festival his band was expected to play.

It wasn’t that Gerard didn’t like other people’s music, or festivals for that matter, but considering the label had cornered them into a small handful of non-genre restrictive ones he was annoyed. The culture, the vibes, the people- this was not his place. Not his band’s place, for that matter.

But commercialism was the name of the game, he had learned that early on. He was lucky enough the label had allowed their last album to be artistically driven by him, from songs and lyrics to the artwork on the cover. But there is always a quid-pro-quo in the entertainment industry. And playing at a mainstream festival was apparently one of them.

They wouldn’t have agreed to this had their last music video not gone over budget by a significant amount, and now they were paying the price. On top of that the label had encouraged them to be in public, watch other bands play from the VIP tents. Gerard narrowly lost his shit after trying time and time again explain that they needed time to prep for their show, get in the proper mindset, and that would take all the morning into late afternoon when they were finally on. The label exec begged to differ, giving no ultimatum.

“Fucking hell, if we have to listen to another fucking basic pop artist I’m going to lose my mind.” Frank sighed walking through the festival grounds. The group was by no means blending in, as three security guards stood around them and they could easily hear and see people left and right gawking at them as if they were circus animals.

“Good fucking luck with that.” Ray replied. He was never the sarcastic type, if anything he was the most mature and level-headed. So when he had enough, everyone knew it was bad.

“We have one more.” Gerard too sighed, sticking his hands aggressively in his jean pockets. “Then we’re off the fucking hook.” The group took sighs of relief out of sync.

“Who is it?” Frank asked, seeming halfway curious.

“Uh-“ Gerard stopped, checking his phone to see what their manager had texted them. “Great. Y/F/N Y/L/N.”

“Fuck me.” Frank sighed. “My head is going to fucking explode. Listen, I like all music, but I cannot do this much commercial, manufactured pop.”

“I don’t know, her stuff doesn’t seem as bad as some of the others.” Mikey chimed in for the first time.

“How would you know? I’ve only heard her shit in Targets.” Frank speedily replied.

“Social media, I guess. Enough sound clips from her songs have blown up to make them pretty hard to miss.”

“I’m still keeping my expectations low.” Frank shrugged.

“It’s the last one, try to be somewhat positive.” Ray replied halfheartedly.

“We’re never going over budget on anything again.” Gerard quickly added, turning a corner to the next stage’s area. “I can’t fucking do this.”

She got nervous before shows. She was great at hiding it. But in the last few weeks every festival she was playing had crowds growing bigger and bigger. From what her manager had communicated to her approximately two minutes ago, she had the biggest recorded crowd so far for the second day.

Staring at herself in the mirror of the green room, she pushed every bad thought out of her mind. She even closed her eyes and imagined all the bad energy within her swooping out of her body in swirls of dust and being replaced with positive rays of sunshine. It might’ve been stupid, but it worked.

She opened her eyes, putting on her signature smile, looked herself up and down, reminded herself that she was incredibly sexy at the moment, and b-lined it for the door.

Anxiety be damned, her ambitions had gotten her this far and would get her further, she knew that much. She was happy at this point to be thrown into the group of “pop girlies” currently dominating the charts, because it meant she was catering to an already large fan base, and proving others wrong in their assumptions too.

Give a girl some platform boots, a tight outfit where the tops integrity around her chest was questionable, and a microphone- then you’ve got a pop star.

Gerard stood there amazed. He could not fucking believe it.

Three songs in and he was mesmerized. He wasn’t sure if he was more shocked with her or himself. He was trying to rack his brain for reasons to not like this, and blank answers came up time and time again.

To begin with, her songs were substantially above average for pop. They had creative instrumentals, catchy sounds, and her lyrics were truly the star of the show.

But then he took into account her as a person. She was quite attractive, sure. He had seen her enough online and in magazines to see at least that much, but he was sure most of the male population and a decent amount of the female population also saw that. But here, in this light, in that tight little outfit that showed off all the right things just enough to give a good idea, but still leave a good amount to the imagination, he was falling head over heels.

He was almost flustered with her perfection in his eyes, having to catch himself to make sure wasn’t staring like a dog at a bone. After all, there were enough people around to know him and take photos, which would lead to massive and weird speculation online that he simply didn’t want to deal with.

And her stage presence was empowering. She was confident, not selfish. She was sexy as much as she was innocent. She was clear in her intentions and messages, just as much when she left some ideas not fully complete to leave people longing and wondering.

Suddenly he understood all the teenage girls in the audience. She was fucking incredible.

“Told you.” Mikey said next to him with a smirk. It was hard for Gerard to look away from her, but he did. “Don’t always believe stereotypes man. You out of all people should know better.”

“That really wasn’t so bad after all.” Frank shrugged as the group walked back to their own green room, hidden in an array of tents set up on the edge of the festival grounds.

“Yeah, but standing in the heat for that long was exhausting.” Ray commented next, his hands stuffed deep in his pockets. He was always tense until they got all the equipment set up and knew everything was going to go right.

“I don’t know man, that last show kinda rocked.” Mikey responded. “Been trying to tell you guys that not all pop artists are that bad.”

“Well, a lot of them are.” Frank quickly rebutted. “However, you are right, that last one was incredible. I just thought having a girlfriend who obsesses over pop music had gotten to your head.” Mikey rolled his eyes.

Gerard was silent, partially because he didn’t really have anything to say, and partially because he was hanging on to the last show. He learned through years of art school and sketching under cubicle lights that some of the best art was clear as day yet still left you thinking. That was how he felt at the moment. Dwelling in the really astounding feeling he had.

She had single handedly proved a lot of his fallacies wrong. And he saw with his very eyes how she managed to go from half the crowd being into her to the master tools her voice and movement had that puppeteer the crowd like a pro. Who was he kidding though- she clearly was a pro.

Turning a corner he was so lost in his thoughts, his body in auto drive and his vision turned to the cement ground. He knew he needed to stop thinking soon, get in the right headspace for his own show- and then he bumped into something.

His body lost a bit of its control as his right arm collided with something a bit smaller than him. Suddenly he regained all his consciousness as his stabled his footing again, turning his body to see what it was.

And there, low and behold, in those damn platform boots and an oversized hoodie that went so far down her thighs it was a dress, was the very woman who had captured his mind just minutes ago. She was lingering within him, and now she was right here.

Fate works in strange ways.

“Shit, I’m so sorry-“ She began, regaining her own balance as she clearly took more of a hit than he did given that she was shorter and had boots that, despite looking like they weighed a ton, he doubted helped to ground her any more.

“No, that was my fault.” He quickly interrupted, growing embarrassed as she looked up and he realized he had managed to be rude to her in the last 30 seconds not once but twice. “I should’ve been looking out.”

“Me too.” She calmly replied with a small smile, handing this with so much grace and calmness compared to his internal panic.

This close she managed to look even better than on the screens. Photos and videos didn’t do her beauty justice. She looked almost like a doll- near perfect features, beautiful hair, and a smile that was so comforting and cute and graceful. Her makeup was almost as perfect as it was when she went on, but her mascara was ever so smeared around the corner of her eyes, her lipstick fading, and hell- his mind couldn’t help but wander to a place where he wondered what it would be like if he had put her in this state. And then he shut those thoughts up as quickly as they appeared, choosing instead to wonder how anyone could be more perfect.

“I um- I better get going and leave you guys to get to your show.” She quickly said, but froze up not even a moment later, her eyes growing wide with embarrassment of her own. “Shit that was weird wasn’t it? I don’t know you but- well I do, kinda, but like not personally. I mean knowing your music and band and-“ she stopped talking not knowing what to say, her body almost shrinking in a sense of even more embarrassment. “Fuck. I’m gonna shut up now.”

Gerard gave a chuckle and a smile of his own. He felt better now that both of them felt embarrassed.

“No, it’s okay.” He replied. “We’re just coming from your show, actually.” Somehow she froze even more. He could tell under that huge gray hoodie her muscles had tensed further.

“Oh, uh, I hope you enjoyed it.” She softly smiled, polite but seeming almost nervous. Why was he so bad about talking to women, especially pretty ones?

“It was phenomenal, actually.” He replied, nervous himself and instinctively rubbing the back of his neck with one of his hands. There was already a thin layer of sweat connecting back there from standing in the heat for so long. But he didn’t care about that nor how he would survive the heat on his stage later- all he cared about right now was not completely fucking up this interaction with the woman in front of him.

“Are you just saying that to be nice?” She asked with a pouty lip as she clearly questioned the integrity of his response. He rapidly shook his head.

“No, of course not. I don’t lie- ever. If anything I went into the show not knowing much- not in a bad way, I mean kinda in an ignorant way if I’m being honest, and you just- fuck, man, the way you controlled that crowd was so exciting and empowering. It truly was incredible.”

Her face looked like a damn puppy dog begging for a treat. If he weren’t human he would have definitely melted by that look. Big eyes and a genuine smile, her cheeks big and emphasizing her reaction.

“That’s really sweet, thank you so much.” She replied, yet again with grace that he wished he had in these moments. “I um- while I would love to talk more I need to take a shower. I feel so sticky and just- gross. But it was really nice talking to you. And thanks so much for watching me, I really appreciate the feedback.”

His heart broke just a bit.

“Yeah, of course.” He replied, and before he could think he blurted out. “You’re more than welcome to come to ours as well, I mean I’m sure you have the artist VIP tent access, but if you wanna get closer I can definitely arrange a barricade pass for you.”

Her eyes lit up and glowed in a way he wished he could see every single day.

“That’s amazing!” She replied. “Would it be selfish to ask for one more too? My best friend is here and she likes you guys too-“

“Consider it done.” He smiled as she smiled back. “I’ll have my manager send them over to your trailer.”

“Thank you, that’s very sweet of you.” She replied.

“It’s the least I can do. Returning the favor of watching your show and providing feedback.”

“Does that mean I need to take notes for yours and give them to you too?” She asked with a playful smile. Just now he noticed the water bottle in her hand with a straw as she took a sip and damn- he quickly erased all the dirty thoughts that rushed into his mind before it was too late.

“Only if you want to.” Where had this confidence in him come from? He didn’t even know. But right now it was working, and that was all that mattered. Yet again, his body thought before his mind as he said, “Give me your number and we can arrange a meetup. To, ya know, exchange notes and whatnot.”

She seemed flustered, but hid it well. However, the red blush growing on her cheeks and her face that froze yet again for a mere moment told him maybe she wasn’t all that good at this either. But hey, there was a learning opportunity for both of them, he supposed.

“Sure.” She said, as he grabbed his phone, handing it to her as she quickly typed it in.

Y/F/N Y/L/N it read on his screen, the line of numbers under it.

“It was nice meeting you, Y/F/N.” He smiled.

“You too-“ She said, but stopped herself. “I know your first name but I don’t want to say it before you do because that’s creepy.”

He let out a genuine laugh.

“Gerard.” He said.

“Gerard.” She replied. “I’ll see you later, Gerard.”

“So what you’re telling me is Gerard Way wants to fuck you?” Lacey asked her. But she supposed this is why people had best friends- to be both supportive, honest, and borderline crude all at the same time.

“I don’t know if he wants to fuck me-“

“He wants to ‘exchange notes’ on your shows? Code words for ‘come back to my trailer and let’s have sex’.” She said with confidence, sitting down and scrolling through her own phone as Y/F/N changed into a solid black hoodie and jeans to not make her presence obvious. Their show was not about her, and she hoped her presence wouldn’t make it about her.

“Well, I don’t just fuck guys. And I’ll be happy to tell him that if he tries. But he seemed very sweet, and all the interviews of him lean towards him being a very nice guy.” Y/F/N responded quickly, borderline defensive.

“Nice guys can have hookups too, ya know.” Lacey said. She wasn’t wrong, but Y/F/N swore this felt different.

“Regardless, that’s not happening with me.”

“Preach, sister.” Lacy said with a bit of pop in her voice. “If what you’re saying is true, it did sound like you have him wrapped around your finger.”

“We talked for like two minutes. I barely know him, he barely knows me.” Y/F/N rolled her eyes, expertly reapplying her lip gloss in a small mirror.

“Do you know that amount of men after your shows that would fall on their knees and beg for you?” Lacey asked, finally looking up from her phone to make eye contact in the mirror.

“Whatever.” Y/F/N sighed. “I’m just excited we have barricade to a My Chem show. How long have we been wanting to see them?”

“A solid year.” Lacey admitted, standing up to find her shoes. “I’m still not over Gerard Way wanting to fuck you, though.”

Y/F/N was sure rumors would be circulating by morning. As soon as she entered the VIP barricade area alongside Lacey, there was a sudden eruption of screams, and as she looked over a sea of phones were taking photos and videos of her. She gave a polite smile and wave before turning back around towards the stage, hoping as soon as the band got on the attention was going to divert away from her.

Damn her for thinking having a black hoodie on with the hood up would prevent this.

Within minutes though, as the lights on the stage went pitch black and screams from the entire crowd erupted she knew that finally she could just enjoy seeing a band she really liked play from right in front of her. Perks of being a pop star or whatever.

She had to admit that the in-person performance easily knocked any of the recorded ones she saw online out of the fucking park. And while Gerard Way had always been objectively attractive, and happened to be the skinny sad white boy that was her type for whatever reason, he looked really attractive in this light. Like a new skin of confidence took over him. Maybe it was the tight black skinny jeans or fake bullet proof vest with no shirt on under it that perfectly sculpted his lightly muscular arms- and damn the hands. Masculine hands were one of her weaknesses. And his very much fit into that category.

So did she have any notes after the show? No, actually. It was exactly what she had expected, but two fold. She was left amazed and energized as they walked off.

If he really wanted to compare notes with her he was going to be sorely disappointed in the lack of notes she had.

That night did not end with them sharing notes about the others show. Instead, it ended with them sitting on a grassy patch of the festival grounds when it emptied out talking about anything and everything. Gerard had quickly realized how multi-faceted of a person Y/F/N was. Every preconceived notion he had of her was torn down by her random knowledge about random things, her admissions to cringey teen phases she had, cute childhood stories, dichotomy of family and how difficult that could be to navigate.

She was fucking perfect inside and out. And he knew he couldn’t lose her.

In an assertive nature he decided to text her more through the next week. She was on tour in one town, and he was in another. But that didn’t matter. Every other day, or three days apart maximum, they would call from their hotel rooms, or from outside his bus, and talk. About everything. Their days, their histories. What they ate, what they did or didn’t like, who they saw, where they were next, what they wanted to do, asking the other about cool things to do in the city they were in for that day.

And finally, a little less than two weeks after they met, they had that talk.

“So what are we?” She asked over the phone, sitting on her bed and nervously picking at her brightly colored nails. She needed to know before she got too attached and her heart broken further down the line when she was way deeper in than she was now. Not that rejection now wouldn’t hurt- she was trying to save herself from more potential hurt later.

“Seeing each other?” He asked. “I mean, no pressure- we can always take it slower.“

“I would like for us to be ‘seeing each other’.” She replied with a smile growing on her face.

“Great, then we’re seeing each other.” He decided, she could hear the small smile in his own voice despite not seeing him.

“We have a four day break coming up.” He mentioned on a call. A few weeks had blown by, and things felt very normal between them given how abnormal their situation was.

“Okay.” She replied simply, wanting him to go on.

“I want to come see you, if that’s okay.”

“Okay.” She replied again, not hesitant- but a mixture of excited and logistically starting to play a mind puzzle about how this was going to work.

“Just okay?” He asked, now sounding more hesitant himself but equally as confused.

“No, I just mean- like, yes, please come, I really want to see you, but if people see us together again, I think it will kinda be obvious. I- it’s not that I don’t want to show you off, but I kinda like the direction we’re going in now. I don’t want public speculation or opinion to fuck that up.”

Even in a fucking baseball cap and sunglasses at her show, people would grow suspicious of that figure in the secluded family/friends area. They would equally as quickly figure out, judging by the firestorm online caused by her presence at their show the night they met, who it was. And then they would be official without actually saying anything. Just by being together.

She wouldn’t mind being official to the public, eventually. But she wanted more time to have just them to herself.

“I can stand off to the side behind the stage.” He offered.

“Your view is gonna suck.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Okay then.” She replied affirmatively.

“Okay?” He asked for clarification.

“Yes, okay.” She softly smiled with a giggle. “Come to the shows, I even have a hotel room booked one of the nights.”

“Oh fancy.” He replied with a chuckle. “Lookin’ forward to it.”

She shouldn’t have been nervous. He had seen her perform before.

Well once- the first time they met, and then twice on TV in the last few weeks since her career had managed to blow up even further. But this felt different. It was different.

She knew he could now have expectations of her. What if he didn’t like something, or got the ick from the way she danced or what if she fucked up? What if she tripped on stage for the first time or bumped into something or forgot a lyric or her voice went out-

“On in two.” She heard one of the stage techs say, peeking their head through her green room door. As if one queue, she heard a roar of screams from the direction of the stage, queueing that her little intro video had started. Despite still playing smaller venues, at least ones smaller than arenas, her label had actually been willing to put quite the production into her tour after realizing that her stage presence and personality was one of the things that charmed audiences so much.

She gave herself one final look over in the mirror. Her opening outfit was standard- a body con number decked out in black sequence with red accents and her infamous knee high boots that were plain leather, but that she had begun to notice were also being worn more commonly by fans to her shows. It was one of those trademark things that made her feel more like the pop star she was growing to be. At least the headlines called her that.

Taking her hands, she fluffed out her hair a bit more giving her light waves more volume, dropping them, closing her eyes, and reopening them in her stage persona.

She walked out of the door beginning her strut with the sense of confidence she only gained to this level when she knew she was going to be on stage. As she approached side stage, her bedazzled microphone with her initials on it in small rhinestones at the bottom was waiting for her with one of the stage assistance. She gave him a small smile and nod as a thank you, taking it delicately and wrapping her hand around it firmly.

Her in-ear monitored queued up with her sound guy, Jeremy, who gave her the 20 second warning. She allowed herself one final deep breath, realizing this was her time to shine. Even if he was here for the first time watching her as the guy she was seeing, and just generally in a new light, she recalled meeting him for the first time after a show, figuring if she could impress him once maybe she could do it again.

After all, the version of herself that managed to get his attention in the first place was the one who was about to step into the spotlight in a mere three seconds.

Sweaty, hot, tired, worn, happy. The best ways to describe how she felt almost every night coming off stage.

She felt great about this show. The crowds she was dealing with were getting better at each stop, she figured it was venues being sold out and her rapid growth as an artist that was to thank for their enthusiasm and their increased screaming of her own lyrics back to her.

But what made this show so special was seeing him in one of the boxes up and over from the crowd. He kept a low profile with a plain t-shirt and baseball cap, standing next to Lacey through the entire duration, but the occasional eye contact they made was what kept her going.

He was always at least smiling at her. If not he was beaming, or nodding, swaying to the music, and her favorite was when he was so focused on just her that she caught his lower lip being bitten, his eyes glued straight onto her. She knew she always had most if not all of the crowd in a trance- but tonight his attention was the one she really wanted.

She giggled at something her manager had said as they walked through the back hallways of the venue, sipping on her bottled water through a straw and trying to regain as much hydration and energy as possible. As the turned a corner toward the green room, she paused and gave a big toothy smile as she saw him at the end of the hallway.

There was Gerard, still in his relatively incognito outfit, and a full smile as their eyes met. As fast as she could manage to run in her boots, she made her way down the hall and collided with his torso, breaking out into a fit of giggles as he hugged her back.

“Did you like it?” She asked first, letting her chin fall on his chest as she looked up at him with big doe eyes hoping for a good answer.

“You fucking killed it.” He said affirmatively with a smile, leaning down to give her a quick kiss. “You’re absolutely insane out there. Such a natural- fuck, I wish I had half the confidence and ability you do when I’m on stage.”

“Oh stop it!” She playfully and lightly hit his shoulder as she backed away to walk back to her room with him. In the process he swiftly grabbed her hand in his, intertwining their fingers which made her smile even more. “Don’t give yourself any less credit- you’re a fucking beast on stage.” He leaned down and gave her a kiss on the head.

“But nothing like you.” He replied, holding the door open for her as they entered back in so she could change.

She quickly and stealthily changed into a shirt and sweatpants, sitting down to take her makeup off, or at least that’s what she would typically do. But as she sat and looked at herself in the vanity mirror, catching a glimpse of him in the back scrolling on his phone, she wasn’t so sure she felt all that confident with him in person without all of this on.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, catching her in a trance. Damn, why did he have to be so good on picking up these things?

“Nothing.” She said with a soft smile. His body language with a raised eyebrow implied he definitely did not believe that. “I just- should I take my makeup off?” She asked turning to him. He gave her an even more confused look.

“Is it what you normally do?” He asked and she nodded. “Then yeah, take your makeup off.” She didn’t move, still staring at him. “Baby, what’s wrong- actually?” She groaned.

“It’s so stupid.” She admitted, now looking away from him. “I just- I don’t want you to like, I don’t know, not like me without this on.”

He looked a bit shocked and confused at look, but it quickly melted into sympathy.

“Sweetheart, take your makeup off.” He requited with a sweet tone. “I promise you, I will not view you any differently without makeup on. That is such a minor thing. And I’m not with you for your looks- I mean, you are fucking gorgeous- but that’s with or without makeup.”

“Fine.” She replied, grabbing some of her cotton pads and makeup remover, then going to town on delicately running them over her skin and cleaning everything off.

Once she was done, only a few minutes later, she grabbed her bag and regular shoes, slipping them on and getting up to approach him where he leaned next to the door. As soon as she was a few inches from him, he delicately took her face in his hands.

“See, just as gorgeous as always.” He softly smiled, giving her a soft and passionate kiss. She offered a sheepish smile and a growing blush on her cheeks.

“Thank you.” She nervously replied. “We gotta go though- I’m fucking starving.”

“Holy shit.” She said, taking another forkful of pasta and placing it into her mouth. “This is so fucking good.”

“Mhm.” He nodded in agreement taking a bite of his own. It was nice to have some company to actually eat with, and not just pull out her laptop to watch a show or call her parents who were halfway across the country. Now, she had her boyfriend laid across the bed sideways in front of her as she sat criss cross at the head.

“You want a bite?” She asked. He looked at her skeptical for a moment before nodding, allowing her to grab another few pieces, giving them to him.

“Well, shit.” He sighed with a smile. “That is fucking amazing.” She nodded in agreement. There was a brief moment of silence that followed.

“I hate that we have to go back to being, like- normal.” She said. It was one of those thoughts that just spilled out without her even thinking.

“Hm?” He asked, looking up with his eyebrows furrowed.

“Ya know, like being apart for so long.” She said with a tight smile. “We’ve barely spent any time together in person but every time we do I want to spend more and more- and we can’t.” He sighed, putting his fork down in his container.

“I know, baby.” He softly said, taking his now free hand and placing it on her bare thigh, rubbing small circles into the skin with his thumb. “But it’s only another month- then we’re on break and I’ll come be with you as long as you want.”

“Gee, you should get a break.” She said with a serious face. “You need to go home and settle for a few weeks and be with your family and friends there who you haven’t seen in fucking forever.” He shrugged.

“I’ve had all the time in the world to make relationships with them- I want to continue to build ours, and if that means going on tour with you than so be it.” He replied with confidence.

“Even if we do that people will speculate and- we would have to go public.” She explained.

“Is that such a bad thing?”

“No, but,” She took a moment to think, making eye contact with him again as his eyes begged hers for answers. “I don’t want to keep you or us a secret. I would love to show and brag about my super cool, super talented, super hot boyfriend to the world, but I want to keep it private.” He smiled lightly and nodded.

“Then let’s do it.” He said, affirmatively. “We’ll take it at your pace. Whenever you’re ready, I’m ready.”

He had been on tour with her for a full week. And it was becoming unbearable how many things were circulating around.

It started at the first show he came to- a solid handful of people had noticed him and put a name to the face, despite his attempt to remain to himself. A small firestorm erupted online over the alleged rumors. The headlines abusing taboos and cliches of the “pop princess and rockstar” trope that made people go crazy.

Then he actually began coming on tour. She wasn’t sure she had been happier on any other leg of it, until he was there to watch every show, and take her out when she had breaks to his favorite spots in each city, and then end the night in her queen sized “suite” on the back of her bus if you could even call it that. She had even bought more storage bins for under the bed to make room for his things.

But people didn’t need to see all the stolen and sudden kissed, or hysterical fits of laughter, or constant touching that were soft reminders of the other. They didn’t need to know about all the photos they had taken of each other, or the memories made, or the lyrics and words that began filling her songbook as she wrote almost exclusively now about him. At least yet.

But on day nine of them being on her tour together, she couldn’t take the speculation anymore. She couldn’t ignore all the photos taken of him at her shows, or the videos that replayed her not-so-obvious smiles and slow hip movements while making direct eye contact with him. In all fairness, she wasn’t trying to hide it.

People could see moments and snippets of their love. But she wouldn’t let them see the whole thing.

“What d’you think?” She asked, the back of her head leaning against his shoulder as they both looked at her phone. It was a simple story draft for her Instagram of the two of them just a few nights ago walking into a gas station. Not the most romantic thing, but her makeup artist had managed to catch it at one of their stops late at night.

The lighting was perfect and almost vintage aesthetic, offering a slight blur to the photo. It was the two of them holding hands as they walked in, both with hoodies and sweatpants on. Only half her face was shown, brightly smiling up at him, and only the back of his head was shown as a mop of slightly messy slightly put-together black hair.

“I love it.” He said with a small smile, giving her a kiss on the top of the head. In the bottom corner she had just put a small black heart, meant to be a small clue.

“Okay,” She smiled. “I think I’m gonna post it.” She said, looking up at him. “You okay with this?”

“Of course.” He genuinely smiled back. “I don’t mind at all.”

Before she could second guess she hit the post button, immediately turning off her phone and throwing it to the edge of the bed.

“It’s done.” She said with big eyes and a giddy tone. “Like, we’ve confirmed.”

“Mhm,” He nodded with a small chuckle, “We have confirmed.” He leaned down to give her a soft kiss, not even a few seconds later his phone buzzed.

He reached over to grab it, smiling at the screen, and showing her.

I was wondering when you guys were gonna post something. Mikey had sent. It’s been fucking long enough.

She should’ve stopped staring after a few seconds, but she couldn’t help it. She rarely felt this confident in herself, but just as quickly as the adrenaline boost of self love hit her, the sobering of imperfections came knocking too.

Dressed in a long green strapless dress that was built to just fit her, she looked and felt like a Barbie. Her makeup team had really done quite an impressive and good number on her face, exemplifying all her good features perfectly, and covering up or minimizing the ones she didn’t like so much. Her hair hung in a low, sleek pony tail against her back, her nails for once long with extensions that would be removed for sure in the next two to three days.

“You’re absolutely perfect, ya know that?” She heard him, turning around to find her boyfriend with a big smile as one of his hands placed itself lightly on the small of her back. She softly smiled up at him, and he swore his heart skipped a beat and nearly sent him into cardiac arrest the way her big eyes stared right into his.

“Not necessarily, but thank you.” She responded in a small voice. She always got nervous before events- he learned that quickly after having to be on text and call standby as she repeated her own self-doubts while spiraling about things going wrong. No one would have ever known- her presence on carpets, stages, and everything in between was flawless.

And now here they stood for the first time together doing this. Him in a traditional and well-fit suit, her in the dress that would put anyone else wearing the color green to shame. He gave her one good look up and down (what was realistically the dozenth already), relishing in the fact that he was merely an accessory to her- and was blessed to be one at that.

There were already rumors circulating everywhere about the potential for them to show up together tonight. It was the ideal place to hard launch, and after dating for just over six months it finally felt like a good time to let the world see them together in all their glory. She was feeling more confident in him, and he was honestly just along for the ride- a very happy passenger too.

“How do we act?” She asked next, his hand still sat on her back as she leaned more into him so their bodies were no more than two inches apart.

“Like how we normally act.” He replied confidently. “I’m not sure anyone will be genuinely surprised- people have been expecting this.”

“When people set expectations about things they don’t know, it typically doesn’t work out the way they want.” She replied quickly.

He knew better than to ruin her hair or makeup, but at this moment he couldn’t see her for that, so he leaned in without hesitation and gave her a soft kiss as an attempt to calm her nerves.

“We’re not here to appease to anyone’s wants or expectations of us.” He explained in a tone just above a whisper, as if they weren’t the only two people in the room. “We’re here to be with each other- not to explain us.”

It was a relative blur, and she thanked the blinding lights of paparazzi that overtook her vision and senses as soon as they took a single step onto the carpet together. She had never heard the two of their names meshed together so many times in such a short period of time. It felt weird to hear them coming out together from other people’s mouths- but it also felt reaffirming.

His hand had initially snuck around her back, resting itself on the other side of her waist and pulling her close to him. The slight warmth from his body made her feel okay, an emotion she typically had to forcefully place at bay here but was tamed solely by him.

They gradually moved their way down at the instruction of the event staff, and narrowly at the last stop he leaned in to whisper to her, hiding his lips behind the back of her head to not let anyone get a chance to overhear what he was going to say.

“I think I have a new appreciation for my name when it’s next to yours.” He said with a small smile, pulling away and looking down at her.

She couldn’t help herself but to break out into a bigger smile, one that wasn’t posed for the cameras but more authentic. She usually hated her full smile, the cheekiness and roundness of her face making the pictures look unbearable to her, but in that moment it didn’t matter. She playfully nudged him a bit as he resumed his position with his arm around her waist, but this time she placed her hand on his chest, angling herself towards him.

He authentically smiled, not expecting it, and had to resist the urge running deep within him to kiss her. But no one here deserved to see that part of them- no one here deserved to know her like he did.

“New album stuff?” He asked, walking over to the living room with a “new” cup of coffee in his hands (this was his third refill in the last two hours). She nodded from where she sat on the floor, back against the bottom of the vintage arm chair she fell in love with and insisted on having to decorate their new place. Their place.

Gerard had always respected her boundaries with her music. She was being incredibly secretive about her upcoming project- despite it essentially being finished from what he had gathered- but he also knew incredibly well how labels worked. And despite both of them being in the industry, her upcoming album was expected to be gigantic. Both in the reception of it and in the work itself.

“They just began pressing all the vinyls.” She smiled up at him.

“When are you gonna see it?” He asked back, sitting down on the couch and leaning over the coffee table to grab his sketch book and pencils again.

“Hopefully within two weeks.” She shrugged. “That’s if everything goes right. Not that I think it won’t- there’s just… a lot.” He looked up for his eyes to meet her, giving her a sympathetic look and nod.

“Regardless of how it goes, you have worked your ass off for this.” He explained. “Critics will always say shit because they’re jaded and subjective. Most of them haven’t even made music. And your fans are gonna love anything you put out.” She softly smiled back.

“Thanks.” She said. “I can’t wait for you to hear it.”

“Don’t you have the entire record on your computer?” He asked, eyeing the laptop that sat in her lap. She rolled her eyes.

“It’s not that simple.” She replied, closing it and getting up. “Besides, I want it to be a surprise.” She finished, walking over to him and giving him a kiss on the cheek.

“So are you flattered or what?” Their manager approached where he sat on the bus. He was so lost in the trance of finding the necklace that she had been dying to get for ages online as a surprise album release gift that he didn’t hear a thing.

“Hm?” He asked looking up at him.

“You’re the muse for the number one song on Billboard right now.” His manager replied with a small smile, arms crossed over each other.

“Right.” He awkwardly responded.

He was, indeed, the quite obvious muse for her first single, which happened to somehow skyrocket on the charts as soon as it released and within a few days was impossible not to hear. Whether it be radio, playlists, grocery stores, social media- the damn song was everywhere.

By no means was he upset, he just wasn’t expecting it. He was actively figuring out how to deal with the amount of empty and comical threats he got from fan accounts saying they were fully prepared to fight him if it meant even a shot at being with her. Also, while he had approved of the lyrics she had showed him (well, specifically the incredibly, borderline obvious, suggestive ones) it still made him feel a blush grow on his face when he heard them over and over again.

And the fucking cherry on top was the music video. At this point, he had seen her in many different ways, doing many different things (if you catch the drift) but as soon as he watched it he felt like he was falling for her all over again, ten-fold this time. It also made him begin to seriously question why the fuck you were with him, and simultaneously wonder if all the manifesting bull shit the merch girl was telling them about was something he should look into given that he needed some form of magic to get someone so out of his league.

“Good luck when the album drops, man.” His manager smiled, “Can’t wait to see all the teenage girls that want to band together and fight you.”

Gerard didn’t drink anymore and hadn’t for a while. But he did stare with a smile as she took a shot of tequila and her face immediately grew into a sour and twisted expression.

“Fuck that was worse than I remember.” She said through a small cough, grabbing the water by her and downing a chunk of it.

The low-key album release party was being held at their place. It was primarily close friends, the one producer she worked with on the record and her engineer, then the band as well as some of Gerard’s friends. Despite it being small, the place was buzzing under the dimmed lighting as there was consistently multiple conversations happening in the background, solid laughter mixed in too, and her album playing track by track in order softly in the background.

She sat on the floor, back against the couch, in a simple shirt and jeans, him right behind and next to her sat on the couch. She wasn’t drunk, but was definitely tipsy as she laid her head on his jean clad knee. He looked down at her with a smile, running a hand through her loose hair.

“I love you so much.” She smiled up at him. “Thank you for being such an incredible muse.”

He had been complimented plenty of times by critics, reporters, fans- but nothing even came remotely close to that comment.

“Baby, this is all you.” He insisted with a smile back. “We wouldn’t be here if you weren’t so damn incredible at everything you do.”

She sighed happily, closing her eyes for a moment.

“I’m so fucking glad you bumped into me.” She said. “I was so pissed at first and so tired and hot and sweaty- I thank the universe everyday for making that happen.”

“I do too, sweetheart.” He said, letting his smile melt into a sincere and content one. It only felt right. “I do too.”

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