Lance sitting in the observation room, staring at the stars in silence as the minutes tick away until its July 28. He just smiles sadly, eyes burning with tears as he raises a hand to press it against the glass.
“Guess we’re not having that party for my birthday, huh, Mama..? I’m sorry..”
He doesn’t even realize he’s crying until his legs give out from under him and he’s curled up on the ground as he sobs, a fist still pressed against the glass.
One of the others was in the doorway and they have to cover their mouth to stop a sob from leaving their lips because not only did they not know his birthday was the next day, but seeing their cheerful Lance break down made their heart twist with pain.
He’s fifteen years old and tired. Sitting in front of the trailer he calls home, he lets himself feel it for just a second. Allows himself to acknowledge the heaviness pulling at his limbs, his drooping eyelids getting pulled down by some invisible power; allows himself a moment of anger and exhaustion. Feeling sorry for himself and letting his misery take over his senses isn’t something he necessarily likes to do. He knows his life sucks, there’s no use dwelling on that. He also knows there are people who have it worse and that he will get out of here. One day one day one day. It’s a song that replays itself inside his head when things get rough, when he feels alone and his father tells him he’s worthless, with his fists and words alike, when his mom looks at it all with pursed lips or ignores it altogether. When the trailer park is suffocating and the dust invades his lungs, makes it hard to breathe. Sometimes doubt creeps in and then it’s almost impossible for him to believe it will ever happen; he’ll be stuck here for the rest of his days, become a copy of Robert Parrish because it’s his fate, it’s in his blood and he’ll have a son sitting in the exact same position, singing to himself one day one day one day.
Snapping out of that depressing train of thought, he suddenly remembers the free magazine he picked up at the grocery store earlier. From the rack next to the entry, filled with daily news and picked up by the busy fingers of housewives and old people taking their weekly stroll. He’s passed it numerous times and never felt the need to take one with him, until today. He doesn’t know what came over him, just that he desperately wanted to pretend to do something normal. And why not?
He takes it out now, from under his thin jacket, unfolds it and looks at the picture of some actress he vaguely recognizes posing on the front.
It’s been so long since he read something just for him. He used to go the library when he was younger, used to spend full days there, befriending the old, sweet lady behind the desk, reading everything he could get his hands on. But when he realized there’s a way to escape this, that the world is so much wider than the name double-wide suggest, that maybe there’s a way for him to not only read about magical places and people going on adventures, but actually live those things and see them for himself, the library turned into the last item on his list of things to do. He picked up several jobs and poured all his remaining time and energy into studying and getting A’s; the library was forgotten. At times, when the night is too heavy to sleep and the walls are too thin to not hear what’s playing in the bedroom next to his, he thinks of the old lady with her white hair that gave him pieces of her chocolate sometimes and wonders what happened to her. If she still works there, if maybe at times she wonders about him too after he abruptly stopped coming, if she’s even still alive.
Now he opens his magazine and pictures the one his father reads and notices the stark difference between the two. He rifles through it, not particularly caring about the content or finding it exceptionally captivating, but enjoying himself nonetheless. Skimming through it, he abruptly lets it fall open on some ad, perfume he thinks, featuring a man, a car and the gray sky above. The man is leaning against his expensive, fast car, wearing expensive designer clothes. Adam’s enthralled by how casually powerful the man looks and by the quiet authority he radiates. Like nothing can hurt him, like he’s above pain. At first, it’s just the power that evokes Adam’s wonder, then he pays closer attention to the guy’s face; zooms in on his high cheekbones, the strand of dark hair falling on his forehead, his pronounced jawline. The way his clothes fit him just right, accentuating the right things, the right way and Adam is in awe.
There’s a mixture of several things going through Adam’s head, the most prominent being want. Which he shuts down immediately without realizing why and replaces with one day one day one day. He looks at the car again. Without giving it second thought, he rips the picture from the magazine and folds it carefully, stuffs it into his pocket.
The picture is burned in his memory now and he thinks he’ll use it as motivation, to try to become that person one day. Because that’s what he wants. That’s the want overpowering his thoughts. Being that man, radiating the same power, being able to dress like that, owning a car like that and doing it all as effortlessly as if he’d been born into it.
He takes it out sometimes, from under his mattress. He’s not sure why he feels the need to hide it like that, it’s not like there’s something bad on there. He just doesn’t want his dad to find it and realize that Adam wants to be that man, he tells himself. He doesn’t want his parents to know that that is his goal in life, he tells himself. And he tries not to think of the why’s to much. Why he decided on that picture, why he hides it, why it makes him want.
Years later he’ll realize that maybe it wasn’t just the power the man radiated and the effortless way he looked like money and success and was everything Adam wanted to be but wasn’t. He’ll think that maybe it was a mixture of those things, combined with the fact that he was extremely attracted to the guy, but just didn’t realize it. That the want to be him, could’ve easily also been the want to be with him among other things. He’ll think that there have been so many more instances in his life where he interpreted his own feelings wrong, or simply repressed them and twisted them so that he didn’t have to face the real thing. Subconsciously of course, until Ronan started looking at him and the pieces all fell in their place and he realized something about himself that had been there for a long time, but was never allowed out.
When he gets together with Ronan, he analyzes the feelings he had for Blue and he realizes they were just as real as the one he has for Ronan. Maybe they weren’t as strong, but they were there. And something clicks inside him, because he knows now that Ronan wasn’t the first boy he was ever attracted to, which is what he thought in the beginning, and he knows that he’s still very much into girls too, but that it’s all fine. He’s got time to find himself and figure out what that means for him. Which he does in great detail. Adam Parrish, a man of science, likes to understand things, approaches this objectively, eyes on his goal.
He doesn’t doubt his attraction or love for Ronan because he is absolutely sure that those things are there. He does not doubt his feelings for Ronan once. He just wonders whether he’s the only boy he’s ever liked or if there were others.
When he was younger, he didn’t give his sexuality much thought. He always thought he was straight so there was no real reason to think about it and anyway, living under his parents’ roof, the possibility of being something else than straight, stepping out of line of what his dad thought was right, wasn’t much of an option. He liked Blue, he had a girlfriend before that, when he was fourteen. She gave him his first kiss, but other than that it wasn’t anything exceptional. She was a girl from his school he had to work with one day. She was pretty and she smelled nice. She had a gap between her teeth and he remembers finding that charming. They worked on the chemistry project in the library, she kissed him one day, he liked it, she asked him to be her girlfriend and eventually she broke it off, no doubt expecting dates and time spent together, but Adam simply did not have the money or time to spare. He didn’t like her that much that it really hurt or anything, but it stung a little. Knowing dating just wasn’t for him, yet another thing on his seemingly endless list of one day, something he’d do when he got out of here.
If he was being honest with himself, he was a little disappointed. It’s not like he expected butterflies to fly around and the sun to start shining just for them, but the couple kisses they shared didn’t really do anything to him. That didn’t stop him from wanting more of them, though. Her lips were soft and brought him affection he had missed his whole life. The feeling of her hands on his hips warmed his skin in a way he was not familiar with, so even if real feelings were missing, he also definitely didn’t want her to break up with him .
He figured it was better anyway. He put her out of his head and forget about her quickly enough, only sometimes allowing her to open the doors in his mind and wondering that if he could’ve been able to show her a little more attention, she’d have stayed longer.
Then he met Blue and he really liked her too. Her originality and fire drew him in and did things to his head. It was easier with her somehow because he saw her in the company of Gansey, because she was pretty affectionate herself and wasn’t afraid to say what she thought or let him know what she wanted or didn’t want. She took his hand and it was easy to lay his head in her lap. It was nice and he knew that if he were to kiss her, it’d be different than the kisses he shared with his former girlfriend. He thought maybe he’d feel something else than simply that’s nice.
It was good. While it lasted.
Because of course it didn’t last. He was Adam Parrish, why would he be able to love someone the right way? Maybe love was a big word, but why would he be able to – to be enough? Because that was exactly what it was. He was not enough.
The words it’s not going to be you echoed through his mind for days on end and the fear that he would end up exactly like his father encased him, held him captive. When those words came out of her mouth, he knew. He just knew that if it wasn’t him, it’d be Gansey. Because of course. Of fucking course.
When he gets together with Ronan, everything is great and his anger doesn’t matter because Ronan has his own anger inside to match Adam’s. They get together and every touch, every word shared between them leaves a trace in his skin, strikes a match until his insides are burning with want and need and love. Finally he can feed his hunger. Ronan doesn’t mind if Adam kisses him fiercely, barely giving him space to breathe, all but attacks his mouth with his own. He doesn’t mind Adam taking of his shirt and tracing the warm skin, following the trail of his tattoo with his mouth. Doesn’t mind the hickies on his neck, the scratches on his back.
The physical aspects of the relationship is explosive and wonderful. But that’s not all. Ronan is the first person to ever be truly gentle with him, the first person that looks at him as if he deserves everything.
He makes Adam laugh harder than anything ever has, sometimes so much he literally cannot breathe, until he has tears in his eyes. Ronan knows when to crack a joke, make fun of Gansey, draw out a grin with force if he has to after a shitty day at work. But also knows when to leave it alone and simply let Adam lay his head on his lap on the couch and gently run his fingers through his hair when he’s feeling down. Because the truth is, while Adam Parrish has always thought of himself as unknowable, somehow Ronan Lynch has managed to know him.
He knows him. He understands him. Like no one ever has. And Adam realizes that, even if he didn’t notice before, he had always understood Ronan the same way. Back when he couldn’t stand being in the same room with him for more than five minutes before one of them made a biting remark. Even then, they’d understood each other on some level.
So, no. If there is one thing in the world he is absolutely sure of, it’s his love for Ronan. While figuring out his sexuality is definitely confusing, that is not. It’s the surest and realist thing in his life at the moment.
Once, when Adam was about ten, he had a friend. Called Jason. The boy had curly black hair, dark skin and piercing brown eyes that glittered in the sun and made Adam feel warm and fuzzy inside. It was the first real friend he’d ever had, or as real as fleeting friendship at that age can be anyway and Adam cared for him deeply. When Jason smiled, he had a dimple and for some reason having it directed at him, filled Adam with an indescribable pride. There was something about him that made Adam want to be around him as much as possible and never let go. Seen as Jason was his first friend, he didn’t think much of it and figured that’s just what friendship was.
The whole thing was over pretty quickly, Jason moved away. Adam is pretty sure he never even knew his last name.
When he thinks back to that now, he wonders if it wasn’t something other than just friendship. And then he thinks back to the first time Gansey had laid his charming eyes on him and shown Adam his electric smile and the feeling that had evoked inside him and wow. That’s a whole other realization.
Now lying on his small mattress above the church that’s his home, next to the boy he thinks of when he thinks of home, he wonders how he never noticed what really, was there all along. He thinks it’s probably a mixture of wanting to survive and homophobic bullshit shoved in his head by the people that raised him.
Now, lying on his small mattress above the church that’s his home, next to the boy he thinks of when he thinks of home, he lets himself feel and think and understand something about himself.
‘Why the fuck are you thinking this hard? It’s two in the morning’, Ronan mumbles into the crook of his shoulder, sleep already pulling at his senses, one hand wrapped around Adam’s waist.
‘I’m not.’ It’s a lie, automatically leaving his mouth. Adam spends his life thinking too hard, over analyzing every little thing. He’s never had to share the inner workings of his mind with anyone.
‘Yes, you are. You’ve got that little crunch between your eyebrows. That means you’re thinking too hard.’ But this is Ronan and, again, Adam is taken aback by how good Ronan knows him. The inner workings of his mind may be a mystery to most people, but Ronan has never been like most people.
He doesn’t say anything for a little while, lets the silence fill the room. Ronan kisses his shoulder and Adam can feel his eyelashes fluttering against his skin. Soft as a confession whispered in the dead of the night.
‘I’m bisexual’, he says then, finally, shattering the quiet.
And it’s out there. The nervous flutter in his stomach has nothing to do with fear or dread. He feels most comfortable around Ronan and this is nothing new really. It’s just that it’s the first time he’s ever said those words aloud, the first time he knows with a certainty they’re real. And that sensation is new to him, it flutters in his stomach, but a good kind of fluttering. One that’s as pleasant as the spring sun warming his skin after winter has gone to sleep.
Ronan makes a noise that could be interpreted in many different ways, but the way he pulls Adam closer to him and nuzzles his nose to his temple and drops a kiss on his ear, indicates it’s most likely one of encouragement and support. The gesture fills Adam’s body with warmth and his heart beats with the incredible love he has for this boy.
‘What brought this on?’
‘I don’t know. Just thinking back on my life. I have this ad in my car, for perfume or something. And I always convinced myself I kept it because one day I wanted to be the guy. But now I think I kept it because I was ridiculously attracted to him even though I didn’t realize it.’
Ronan lets out a small laugh. ‘Well, I’m fucking gay. I think I always sort of knew though.’
Adam wonders if Ronan has ever admitted to that before and he’s pretty sure he never has. He simply got together with Adam and that was enough for them. But here, in the safety and comfort of this room and each other, it’s okay.
He thinks of how Ronan used to hate himself so much and that, some of it at least, was tied to his sexuality. How he used to be so angry and scared and hidden from everyone. How self acceptance was a long and painful process for him. He thinks of how proud he is of Ronan, of how strong he is and of how far he’s come. To say those words without shame above the church he visits every Sunday. The church where he belongs but for a long time felt like an intruder, like he was wrong.
Ronan shouldn’t have to give up parts of himself because others won’t accept him. He shouldn’t have to hide. He’s gay, but he also believe in god with an intensity that Adam saw reflected in his eyes the few times he has accompanied him to church.
Adam himself is not religious, but he respects it and can see the beauty of it in certain things. But more importantly, he’s aware of how deeply rooted it is in Ronan’s life and how it’s a part of him. Adam loves all parts of Ronan, wants him to be able to love all parts of himself too. He’s glad Ronan feels comfortable enough saying those words above his church.
‘I’m glad you finally figured it out. ‘M proud of you,’ Ronan mumbles then, almost asleep, saying things he maybe wouldn’t have said wide awake, but that Adam would’ve gotten anyway.
Adam plants a kiss on the top of his head and closes his head. ‘I’m proud of you too.’
And that’s how they fall asleep, entwined like vines and trusting someone, finally, to accept them for who they are.
They’re growing still. And discovering themselves, but now that they’re safe and relatively happy, most of the time, it’s a process Adam actually is kind of looking forward to. Maybe he doesn’t have to be unknowable. Maybe he can just be Adam Parrish, loved by his friends and boyfriend, safe, attending Harvard in the fall, bisexual, in love and proud. Of who he is.
Proud of being Adam Parrish. He decides he rather likes that thought.
Thanks for reading! Title from Chanel by Frank Ocean, because that song is almost as Bi™ as Adam Parrish is
Hi! I am interested in your post about how the closet was more than just media training. I'm new and have found it hard to decide whether I think Harry and Louis are still together. Part of that is just coming in at a point when interaction between them is nonexistent. But another part is that the Louis of now is quite the departure from the Louis of early years. It almost appears that Harry has become more flamboyant and Louis less. Do you think it's intentional or just how they've handled it?
First, I always think that the belief of whether Harry and Louis are still together doesn’t actually impact the reality. Either they are or they’re not; what we think doesn’t really change that.
Second, if they are, then they are choosing not to come out for the time being, whether it’s due to legal constraints (because of contractual obligations) or to considerations for their personal lives and career. We know that certain aspects of their lives can be kept very private if they wish (they can travel incognito most of the time, major events about their families have been kept secret).
I was talking with a friend about the differences between video and still photography. Still photography can be controlled and edited. Danielle and Louis can appear to be happy together (Louis’ birthday photo 2016), but intimacy in video is hard thing to fake. Louis has never shown any real warmth or intimacy with any woman he has been romantically linked to. His papped photos with Briana (May 2015) showed his expressions of indifference and disdain.
Louis’ body language toward Harry has consistently been inclusive, intuitive, and intimate, UNLIKE his body language with anyone else– even when everything else about him has been muted, controlled, and toned down, even in 2015, when they supposedly hated each other. When they were within vicinity of each other, it was impossible to miss their awareness of each other.
Harry and Louis are tactile people. They like to touch and be touched. It’s more the pity that 1DHQ forced the other boys to imitate this love of touch so HL’s behavior wouldn’t stand out. Again, video is revealing. The most tender moments of touch occurred when they believed they weren’t on camera. The tenderness is something difficult to fake, and it was from both H and L.
Harry in particular liked to leave signals to the fandom about Louis, and he still does. Isolated things like Louis’ IG selfies or his shirts that communicate signals, or his black and white IG post at the Donny house, or the ridiculously intimate gestures on the interview with Nick (the one where Harry was on voice rest) or Harry’s bee tattoo– might be explained away as coincidence, but when taken in the context of their history, are, to me, obvious. Just look at the clip where they are talking to fans about the Donny dome– Harry’s stolen glances at Louis tell you everything you need to know about how in love he is with that boy. He doesn’t just love Louis, he cares about Louis’ being endeared by that fan, he cares about Louis’ love of his hometown. The glances occurred so fast and so surreptitiously, they were obviously not meant to be noticed– something, imho, that is impossible to fake.
Those terrible, hesitant sounds Harry made when asked directly whether Sweet Creature was about Louis? Not fake.
The terribly tender expression when he’s performing Two Ghosts, live. Who else could that song be about, really?
The beaming smiles they have when one is about to travel to the same location as the other, even now.
I think I’m convinced that they’re still together only because of knowing their personalities through their history, and piecing together the evidence. As I said, what I think doesn’t change the reality, and if reality shows me something different, I’m willing to change my opinion.
Request: Hi, love your writing! Can I get a Peter Parker imagine where the reader and Peter are best friends and he likes her so for her birthday he takes her to meet all the Avengers at the tower and she’s a really big fan/crush on Cap and Bucky and it makes Peter jealous and you can decide the rest. Thank you doll
Word count: 1,018
Relationship; Peter Parker X Female!reader, Feat Bucky Barnes, and Captain America
Warnings: Jealous Peter, Kissing, minor swearing
A/N: I had this take place at the new Avengers facility since in homecoming they moved to a new location
“Peter can I take off the blindfold now” I whined as he grabbed my hand leading me somewhere for my birthday.
“No, Y/N if you took it off now it wouldn’t be a surprise” He replied. I didn’t even need to see him know he had a stupid smirk on his face.
“Ugh, Peter you know I hate surprises and you” I sighed, as we continued to walk. I probably looked
“Well that’s unfortunate because you’re going to love me in about two minutes” he laughed. I heard him push open a door, and he briefly let go of my hand and placed it on my back, swiftly pushing me into wherever the hell he was taking me.
“Peter Benjamin Parker I swear to go if you don’t take this blindfold off soon I’m going to-” I was cut off by Peter coming from behind me and slowly taking off the blindfold. “Peter” I whispered.
“Yes Y/N” he laughed
“Are we at the new Avengers base” I squeaked as I tried not to freak out.
“What does it look like” he retorted laughing at me, probably because I looked like a five year on Christmas day. I saw a jet start to take off and I practically sprinted to the window watching fly away faster than I’ve ever seen anything go. Peter was definitely right about me loving him after I found out my surprise. I turned on my heel and I ran back to Peter practically pouncing on him wrapping my arms around him and squeezing him so tight I pretty sure he was having trouble breathing.
“Thank you so much, Peter” I mumbled into his neck. I pulled from the hug, to see Peter as red as a tomato, and I could feel my cheeks start to heat up too, so I quickly looked down at my feet.
“So you must be the birthday girl” I heard from behind. I whipped around to see Bucky Barnes and Captain America. I felt the urge to scream and run away since I’ve been obsessed with them since I was literally 9.
“Oh my god, this is not happening right now, Peter you did not do this for me” I squealed, and Peter gave me a warm smile.
“So how old are you turning” I heard Bucky ask.
“16” I blurted out, still trying to process what was happening right now.
“Pete watch out looks like your little girlfriend here can drive you around soon” Captain laughed and I’m pretty Peter’s face managed to get redder than before. I laughed, not even denying the girlfriend because honestly, I wanted to be his girlfriend, but no way in hell I would ever tell anyone that. I watched as the captain took off his mask revealing his gorgeous face.
“Holy shit he’s was hotter in person,” I said under my breath. I definitely think Peter heard because I heard him sigh, and when I turned around he quickly looked at the floor.
“Do you want to get some pictures?” Bucky asked. I practically passed out right there and then. I quickly handed Peter my phone and I went in the middle of them. We took a ton of pictures with different poses. I even got to hold Cap’s shield which was the coolest thing I’ve ever done in my life. When I looked up at Peter he looked pretty annoyed. Cap leaned down and whispered into my ear
“You know he likes you more than a friend right”?
“No he doesn’t, that’s crazy he’s just my best friend” I argued, feeling the blood rush my cheeks.
“Trust me Y/N, I’ve been around a long time, and Peter is head over heels for you” He assured.
“Really” I questioned
“Yes,” I heard Bucky laugh.
“He’s been giving us the death glare the past twenty minutes” Cap chuckled.
“What should I do,” I asked
“Make a move, of course, I mean only if you feel the same way” Cap replied smiling at me.
“I would just kiss him, it makes life way easier, then you don’t have to admit anything” Bucky chuckled. After giving me a small pep talk They both gave me hugs and went off to do whatever they do in their free time I guess. Which made me want to know what they were doing, but who cares.
“Thank you so much for this Peter,” I said pulling him into another hug.
“It’s no problem” He mumbled his voice laced with jealousy.
“Peter there is no reason to be jealous” I blurted out.
“I’m not jealous” He insisted turning away from me. I decided to go with what Bucky said to do since it seemed to be the easiest so I quickly moved to I’d be facing him and I grabbed his face and slammed my lips to his. Funny thing was it didn’t even take him that kong to kiss back. He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me closer to him. My skin felt on fire everywhere he touched, and his soft plump lip felt like heaven on mine. Eventually, I pulled away for air. Peter still had his eyes closed and I looked up and I saw Bucky and Cap giving me a thumbs up from the second story of the building and I smiled.
“That was the best Birthday present ever” I giggled.
“I pretty sure that was more of a present for me” Peter corrected
“That’s debatable” I challenged grabbing his hand as we walked out of the facility. That was by far the best birthday I’ve ever had and I think the best I’ll ever have.
‘…Of all the rivalries in the world of sports over the years,
perhaps none has become so legendary as that of Russian figure skater Viktor
Nikiforov and his rival, Japanese Yuuri Katsuki…’
A single event changes the course of Yuuri’s life, throwing him
into a bitter rivalry with Viktor Nikiforov that spans across his entire
skating career. But as the years go on, rivalry and hatred begin to develop
into something very different and Yuuri doesn’t seem to be able to stay away,
no matter how hard he tries.
Hatred and love are two sides of the same coin and even though
everything changes, some things are still meant to be.
remember the first time he met Yuuri Katsuki.
This however, is
what Viktor does remember…
Part 2 of the
Rivals series and companion fic to ‘Until My Feet Bleed and My Heart Aches’.
One small change alters the course of both Viktor and Yuuri’s entire lives,
throwing them into a bitter rivalry that spans across many years and creates a
world where they both tell a very different side to the story.
that he has a scheduled heat coming up until it’s just a couple weeks away. He
scrambles to get everything ready in time, including deciding whether he’ll
spend it alone or with someone. Victor only wants to help.
For the second time, the Sochi Grand Prix Finals arrive, and
with it a reborn Yuuri Katsuki. “Viktor,” Yuuri thinks over the pounding
of his heart, the crowd going silent as the music begins. “I’ll show the world what you meant to me.”
Yuuri often thinks
of his life as Before and After Viktor Nikiforov, the marking point being the
day Viktor swept into his life and turned his world upside-down. After many
years together, an accident leads to Yuuri suddenly waking up in the
Before—back in Detroit, before the GPF, before he ever knew Viktor as anything
other than his childhood idol.
The set of Yuuri’s
mouth softened into a private smile as Victor squeezed his knee beneath the
table. His hands were bare, free from the gloves he so often wore when they
were together on the rink, and the heat of his palm burned straight through the
denim of Yuuri’s jeans. He slipped his own hand beneath the table and found
Victor’s. Hidden from sight, their fingers began to flirt and play. A secret
conversation all their own that needed no words.
Yuuri was aware
that at some point—a moment in time he couldn’t quite place—Victor had become
There wasn’t a single instant when it happened. It was a slow awareness,
as if Victor had silently been asking the question for months now, and Yuuri
had been giving him the answer a little more with each passing day.
AU in which Yuuri still doesn’t
remember the banquet, somehow doesn’t blow Japanese Nationals, runs into Victor
at the World Championships, and has absolutely no idea why his idol is suddenly
friendly and incredibly handsy.
Does Yuuri care about his reasons? No. It’s Victor Effing Nikiforov.
Basically this is an excuse for total
fluff. And porn. And shit-talking with bonus smut. (Edited for accuracy.) Happy
Victor turned back to him, supernova smile in place
once more. “I really, really like you. Promise you’ll still dance with me at
the banquet if you take gold this time around.”
Yuuri stared at the man. He looked at their entwined hands—he hadn’t
wanted to pull away—and their thighs, pressed together despite there being
plenty of room in the backseat of the cab. That scent of Victor’s cologne—just
a dab, lightly applied somewhere on his neck—swirled around him. This was too
real to be a dream, too physical for him to have imagined it.
“I’m sorry,” Yuuri said slowly. “But…have we talked before?”
Victor Nikiforov is
poised to win gold in his fifth consecutive Grand Prix Final. He has the world
at his feet, is unparalleled in the sport–right up until a snowstorm blows
into Sochi, and he finds himself repeating the same day over and over and over.
He stumbles over Yuuri Katsuki, and everything changes.
(Or, the time loop
au. Loosely based on Groundhog Day.)
doesn’t advertise his alpha status, in fact he’d rather it be relatively
unknown. He feels that he’s never fit the stereotype, and is much happier
blending into the background. However, much to his dismay, his alpha instincts
are awakened one summer morning.
At first he’s
angry, believing that his new coach, Victor Nikiforov, has brought back an
omega in heat for a day of passion. But when he intrudes to order the couple to
a safer location he learns the truth. Victor, the most decorated male figure
skater ever, has his own secret.
From there an
inexplicable gravity grows between them, their shared secrets pulling them
together in ways that both learn to cherish.
Victor learns Japanese while in Hasetsu. He doesn’t tell Yuuri, and things
get dicey when he overhears Yuuri and Mari talking about him in Japanese.
(The subtitle of this fic should be: Victor Nikiforov really needs a
hug. Luckily, he gets one. Eventually.)
“No,” Victor says, skating up to Yuuri on the ice,
“you have to push all the way from here, or you’ll
never get the height you need for that axel.” He sets his
hand on Yuuri’s ass, tracing the muscle group he’s referring to. “Not here.” He
taps Yuuri’s thigh. He doesn’t know the words for the muscles in English, only
knows how to show him.
Yes, technically he’s grabbing
Yuuri’s ass, but how else is he to communicate?
living with Yuuri for a month now, but Yuuri is still not used to him. But
Viktor is a good teacher, and Yuuri is a good student.
*This fic is basically about the development of
their relationship with each other which begins as a crazy crush then turns
into something serious, something real. Sooner or later, they have to deal with
problems as well. Angst, fluff, and porn… lot of porn.
Yuuri Katsuki has
been betrothed to the High King’s son, Victor, since he was just a child;
furthermore, as an omega, he’s forbidden from practicing magic in combat. For
years, he’s been able to put off the former because the Prince was traveling
abroad, and gotten around the latter by practicing with his mentor in secret.
Nikiforov has finally returned home, and Yuuri is being summoned to the capital
for their wedding. He needs a plan to put off marriage long enough to find a
way to break the betrothal, while keeping his practicing from being discovered.
If only the Prince
didn’t have other ideas.
(Or, the swords-and-sorcery arranged marriage AU. Updates
Yuuri and Viktor
are aiming for a third consecutive Grand Prix gold as the new skating season
rolls around. Halfway through the qualifiers, however, Yuuri realises that he’s
pregnant. He can either tell Viktor, who he knows would freak out and demand
that he withdraw from the Grand Prix, or he can keep his mouth shut, keep his
mate at bay, and win the gold that he’s worked so hard for.
Yuuri, under the username of Eros, is a size queen omega who most certainly does not have an obsession with fellow camboy and legendary silver-haired alpha Aria. Just like Phichit is not the most meddlesome roommate known to man.
Katsuki Yuuri is an accomplished escort at 23, operating under the pseudonym Eros, in Detroit. When one of his favourite clients sets him up with none other than world-renowned figure skater Victor Nikiforov, the delicate balance between Yuuri’s personal and professional life teeters ever closer towards ruin.
So, fine, maybe Yuuri’s a little bored and lonely when he likes a dating profile claiming to be Viktor Nikiforov. And, maybe, he’s a little pathetic when he gets excited when the account messages him almost immediately after. And, he’s definitely stupid for falling in love with someone pretending to be his idol, but he can’t help it. It’s not like it’s the real Viktor Nikiforov, anyway. He knows someone is catfishing him, but he still falls ridiculously in love.
The new season is in full-swing, and Viktor is realizing just how much work it is to coach and compete, but the exhilaration is worth it. The pain in his leg is probably just from overworking. Probably. (Or the post-season one continuation fic no one really asked for.)
It was perfect. There was no music, no sound whatsoever, only Yuuri, dancing in front of him, toes sinking into the deliciously soft carpet, his movements fluent even off the ice and his eyes sparkling while he tried to show to Victor what his words had lacked to convey, making him hear the melody with his eyes while he watched every small gesture, every delicate step. It was all there on open display; their love unfolding for everyone to see.
Victor Nikiforov is back in competitive skating with Yuuri finally meeting him on the same ice. Victuuri. Post-Canon. BoyxBoy Rated M for smut. Lots of Fluff
In which Prince Victor gets swept off his feet at a royal banquet and will go to any length to find his 'Cinderella’ Yuuri. (And Phichit is the fairy godmother who has no idea what he’s doing).
“The crown prince of the Nikiforov kingdom, infatuated with a mystery pastry chef he’s only just met. This is exactly the kind of scandalous love story my life has been missing… So, what’s he look like? What exactly is Prince Victor’s type?”
If Yuuri had known that going to that high school party in the rich part of Hasetsu three weeks ago would result in him leaning over a toilet, body shaking, and abdomen cramping, he would’ve told Phichit that he wasn’t up to it.
But that bridge was already crossed and now the consequences were present. Very present.
He groaned, leaning over the cool porcelain with tears trailing down his face. How was he supposed to explain this to his parents?
How was he supposed to explain to his family that he’s pregnant?
More importantly, how was he going to tell the father?
So this is being engaged to a fellow skater: it’s trying to figure out whose sweats are whose, writing competition dates on the calendar in different colored pens, late-night arguments over sequins versus feathers, running out of the really good foot plasters after the shops have closed for the night.
The skating season continues (as skating seasons are wont to do), while Victor and Yuuri negotiate the shifts in their relationship, their careers, and their home rink.
“You might be Yuri’s biological parent, Mr. Nikiforov. But I’m his father. If Yuri wants to go with you, that’s one thing,” Yuuri Katsuki’s voice flows quiet and dangerous into the room “but if he doesn’t, don’t think that you’re taking my child away from home,”
Or: Victor Nikiforov finds out he has a son. He wants full custody.
Katsuki Yuuri isn’t going to give up his child that easily.
Or: Victor and Yuuri fight a custody battle for Yurio. Shit happens.
Or: Yuri Plisetsky starts with one parent, and ends up with two.
Yuuri is determined to get to the bottom of why Victor keeps flirting with him. This leads to a conversation. With alcohol.
“Besides,” said Victor. “Maybe if I get you drunk I can learn some of your secrets.”
Yuuri coughed as he swallowed. “My secrets?”
“Yes. The secrets of the mysterious Katsuki Yuuri, enigma of the figure skating world.” Yuuri nearly choked again at that.
He laughed and shook his head. “You don’t need to make fun of me.”
“What? You are an enigma.”
“I’m not joking,” Victor assured. “No one really knows what to make of you, Yuuri. You’re so quiet most of the time and then other times…” Yuuri just looked at the other man as he trailed off. He shook his head and reached to pour them both more sake.
Victor gets just as drunk as Yuuri at the Sochi Banquet, and they disappear together after the dance-offs. They wake up the morning after with rings on their fingers, and pictures of them kissing after getting married the night before are all over the tabloids… but neither of them remembers a thing. They decide to stay married for a while for the sake of Victor’s sponsorships, and in exchange, Victor coaches Yuuri through nationals…
After winning a bet, Yuuri had been overjoyed that he’d managed to avoid having a large, celebrity style wedding, in exchange for allowing Viktor to plan and have full control over their honeymoon. Yuuri had been mentally preparing himself for flamboyant luxury, only to land up in a ‘middle of nowhere’ town in provincial Russia.
“This was what you wanted to show me?”
“Yes!” He jumped on the spot. “Oh Yuuri, you don’t understand. This is where I learnt to skate!”
A/N: Written for the lovely @torn-and-frayed cause it’s her birthday, hopefully it still is when I’m done editing (I MADE IT, BARELY!) I think EVERYONE wants to wake up to this on their birthday, let’s be real ladies.