#And there’s nothing they can do about it

[dante-mightdie]

your dickhead boyfriend who knows simon is obsessed with you and instead of confronting him about it, he just decides to “lower your value” in front of him except simon is too far gone now

revealing his pet peeves about you, what you’re like to live with. he thinks telling simon about how your hair clogs the shower drain or how you you forgot to flush the toilet after you peed this morning will turn him off but he’s never been hornier in his life

all he’s doing is adding fuel to the already out of control fire. you’re the love of his life, nothing is off-limits to him now. he won’t play this game with your boyfriend, no one humiliates simon’s wife.

“strange.” is all simon says, taking a sip of his bourbon

“what’s strange?”

“nothin’ jus… can’ imagine wha’ it’s like bein’ a pussy tha’s afraid of piss an’ hair.”

[reality-detective]

Karoline Leavitt just ended her press conference with another mic drop of other atrocities USAID has been secretly funding.

- $2 million for sex changes in Guatemala

- $6 million to fund tourism in Egypt,

- $20 million on a new Sesame Street show in Iraq,

- $4.5 million to combat disinformation in Kazakhstan.

The floodgates of truth have opened 🤔

[meanbossart]

Template by @hellothisisangle !

I found it impossible to do this without taking into consideration how culture and up-bringing would inevitably result in entirely different guys, which made this for a really interesting exercise! And of course, my little headcanon about how DU drow's race is nothing but a weird decoy remains, and very much applies to the all of these.

A quick overview of each weirdo:

Tiefling: Practically the same character except for having a slight soft spot for tieflings and a somewhat more negative opinion of elvish races. Eldritch Fighter.

Gnome: VASTLY different guy. A DU gnome would have never grown an ego as large as his canon counterpart does and probably be far more of a silent menace than any other version of himself. Thief Rogue.

Human: Very similar to canon but relies more on smarts and manipulation than brute strength. He can more reliably fool people into believing that he's a good and normal person. Full Blood Sorcerer.

Half-Orc: Very similar to his canon save for being a good deal more aesthetically and romantically insecure. Battlemaster Fighter.

Elf: Worse than canon. Results in a 100% evil durge run every time. Fucked Gortash. Full blood sorcerer.

Dwarf: Very similar to canon but a far more apparent chaotic-alignment. Way, WAY drunker and louder about his love for feet. Berserk Barbarian.

Dragonborn: Practically the same as canon except that every positive characteristic DU drow has is enhanced. This man looks at you and your pants fly off. Battlemaster Fighter.

I don't know enough about halflings to make much of an assessment here, and I just can't make Githyanki work. Sorry!

[sugucide]

two weeks.

it's been two weeks since kento has been inside of you. He's gone months, hell even years without sex before he met you and he was fine. he didn't even wish for it like most of his bachelor counterparts did.

but now that he's had a taste of you? two weeks may as well be a death sentence. which is ironic, giving the nature of this sex ban. everything you do is inviting: maybe it's just his underworked sex drive or maybe he's reverted back to his teenage years because he sure does feel like an impatient, entitled brat whenever you walk past him.

he can smell you. not the smell of your perfume you spritz on each morning. not the product in you hair. not the moisturiser you use. but you, the scent of your self, your body, the skin he's so often inhaled as he bit down between your thighs or up the column of your neck. he can smell the memories of sex, sweaty and tangled in pheromones and all things primal.

he can hear you. not your words or laughter or the way you hum absentmindedly when you're pottering around the house. he can hear that sharp little intake of breath when you accidentally, or not-so-accidentally, brush against him. he can hear that whining tinge to your voice when you tell him you won't sleep with him, that you're punishing him, as if its moreso a punishment for you than him. he can remember the way you'd moan for him, desperate and glassy eyed and oh so perfect for him as he ruins you from the inside out.

he can't take it anymore.

"two weeks is more than enough time for me to think about my actions," he tells you over dinner one night, eyes cast downwards at his plate. "...and to come up with a suitable apology."

you place your chopsticks down at his last words and look up at your husband. "oh? let's hear it then."

over the frames of his glasses, kento's eyes meet yours. "i apologise for worrying you and risking my life for my work."

you tap your fingers against the table. "and will you continue to do it?"

"yes," he admits. "it's my job, one that i do well. if i die doing it, i hope it's in place of someone who didn't sign up for it, like you."

kento reaches over the table and takes your hand. "i can't just stop being a sorcerer. that would be too selfish of me. but i do promise that i will make more of an effort to reduce my chances of getting hurt from now on: no more unnecessary risks. okay?"

though that was all you needed to hear from him, you start to wonder if lifting the sex ban was a good idea when your pent-up husband is swiping plates from the dinner table to make room for you to lay back on it. claiming he can't wait the few extra second to carry you to the bedroom, he has you stripped and laid bare on the dining room table in no time, and he's ready for his meal.

"missed her," he mumbles as he parts your legs with a strong hand and bends down to kiss once at your clit. that's about and gentlemanly as it gets, though, because soon after he's making out with your pussy like he's a virgin. no technique, no precision, nothing but unfiltered need and its so much hotter than you'd imagine it to be.

eyes locking onto yours from between your thighs, he adds two fingers and works you open. two weeks was a long time for the both of you, so he'll need to get you used to the stretch of him again. he scissors his fingers inside of you, curls them upwards to hit your g-spot and smirks like a saint when your back arches off the table in response.

"missed you ken," you ramble on as your climax nears. "missed you so much. hated doing this. love you. loveyouloveyou god i love you."

you cum hard, harder than you've cum in a long time and kento laps it up like he's never tasted anything so good. he savours your taste on his tongue like he would an aged wine, something expensive and delicious and worth keeping bottled. though he's harder than diamond and worried he'll cum in his pants if he doesn't sink inside of you soon. so he stands and undoes his belt in record time (with those lovely hands of his) and repositions you at the end of the table with his leaky cock already pressing against your wet entrance.

he leans over you and shares a kiss with you as he pushes in. he inhales the gasp you let out at the stretch and moans into your mouth as a gift in return. he pulls out almost entirely, so it's just his head nestled in your tight pussy, and then slams in again. hard.

"god kento—" you start, about to chide him for being so rough with you when you notice his face dip into your neck and the sudden warmth filling you from the inside. kento's hips stutter and he bites at the skin of your shoulder to muffle the heavy moans that ache to free themselves from his chest.

"did you just—"

"don't," he cuts you off, cock twitching inside of you with his release. he's plugging you up, keeping you full of him and his cum. "give me a minute and i'll fuck you so stupid that you forget that just happened."

"you just—"

"don't laugh."

"im not laughing! it's just, you know like our first time..."

"shut up." kento's hips pull away and then slam back into yours as he starts a brutal pace with you.

that shuts you up good.

[lucinfernos]

SPEEDRUN PRE-ORDER TIME! https://ko-fi.com/s/618015a5f8 these puppies will only be available this week for pre-order BUT i will be ordering extras so they will return in small quantities in the future 🫡 again apologies for the shipping costs, there is unfortunately nothing i can do about that LMAO

[probablybadrpgideas]

Tragic news! The big bad has put up a "DNI if you're an adventuring party or on a quest to stop evil", so it looks like there's nothing the PCs can do about their scheme :(

[egophiliac]

You think this will be THE last update for book 7.. or will there be more chapters q-q. (I'm totally not desperate for book 8 HAHHA)

I think we're gonna get at least one more chapter where we wrap back around to the Diasomnia boys (I have THEORIES!!!!), but I think 13 will probably be the last one! maybe also 14 as a short epilogue/setup for episode 8, depending on where they cut after we deal with Malleus. we are definitely approaching the endgame though! ᕙ( •̀ ᗜ •́ )ᕗ the party is almost assembled...the light is at the end of the tunnel...it is almost time to go throw pies into Tsunotarou's silly face until he comes to his senses...

(disclaimer since I don't think they've actually officially confirmed that there's going to be an episode 8, that this is of course just me assuming that Grim's arc/whatever's going on with Crowley probably/various other wrapups are going to be a separate episode, and aren't gonna be folded into the absolute beast that has been episode 7. BUT it does make for a nice break point and makes sense thematically with Ramshackle being, like, the semi-official 8th dorm and all, so I think it's a pretty safe bet at this point!)

[flwrstqr]

【 備考 】 STUCK WITH U ⟡ GIRLFRIEND PRIVILEGES ───𝖣𝒾𝖠𝖱𝖨𝖤𝖲 ㅤ. . 𝗂 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽𝗇'𝗍 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗍𝗎𝖼𝗄 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗒𝗈𝗎

SCR𝓲PT : enhypen and their girlfriend privileges 1OOOwc. ˊᯅˋ fluff head canon ❜ fem!centered && skinship, petnames . . ARCHiVE&CLICK

다니 : i love stuck with u.. it's been my top listened song for the past month. i think i'm addicted to ariana grande TT listening to ari's music & writing = my life

LEE HEESEUNG

"no." heeseung deadpans, effortlessly shutting down jake’s request to borrow one of his hoodies. sunghoon tries next, but heeseung doesn’t even let him finish his sentence before shaking his head. “absolutely not.” the boys groan, grumbling about how selfish he is, but then you come along, blinking up at him with those pretty eyes, and suddenly, he’s a goner. “baby,” he hums, already tugging off the hoodie he’s wearing, “you cold?” he drapes it over your shoulders before you can answer, hands lingering on your waist as he leans in, voice dropping. “looks better on you anyway.” “if you want more, just say the word, love. i’ll empty my whole closet for you.” heeseung smiles. then he smirks, tilting your chin up. “told you,” he muses, thumb brushing your bottom lip, “only my pretty girl gets this privilege.”

PARK JAY

jay doesn’t think twice about it—his card is already out before you can even reach for your wallet. “babe, i got it,” he says, tone final, as he taps to pay for your meal like it’s second nature. he barely ever does this for his members, maybe on their birthdays if they beg, but for you? every time. whether it’s coffee, late-night takeout, or a whole shopping spree, jay never lets you spend a single cent when he’s around. “but jay—” you start to protest, only for him to shoot you a look before casually slipping his arm around your waist, pulling you into him. “don’t ‘but jay’ me,” he murmurs, lips brushing your temple. “just let me take care of you, okay?” and how could you say no when he’s looking at you like that—like spoiling you is the easiest, most natural thing in the world?

SIM JAKE

jake's phone is always on do-not-disturb or muting conversations—except for you. no matter where he is, what he's doing, or who he's with, the moment your name flashes on his screen, he’s answering. even if it’s three in the morning, voice thick with sleep. “baby?” he murmurs, and you hear the rustling of sheets as he sits up, already alert. “what’s wrong? you okay?” his voice is laced with concern, but there’s something else—something soft, like he’d wait all night just to hear you breathe. you don’t even have to say much; the second you sigh, he’s whispering, “i got you, sweetheart. just talk to me.” his hand instinctively reaches for where you’d usually be beside him, but when he finds nothing, he groans, already pulling on a hoodie. “stay there. i’m coming.” because when it comes to you, nothing—not time, not sleep,—gets in the way.

PARK SUNGHOON

sunghoon never lets anyone touch his closet—not even his members. but you? you get free pass, standing in front of his neatly arranged wardrobe as he leans against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching you with that soft, amused smile. “baby, not the leather pants,” he groans, watching as you hold them up with a mischievous grin. “they look so good on you, though,” you tease, stepping closer, smoothing your hands over his shoulders, adjusting the collar of his shirt. he exhales, defeated, letting you fix his hair next, his sharp eyes softening under your touch. “you really like dressing me up, huh?” he mutters, but he’s already slipping into the fit you picked. when he turns to the mirror, he huffs a small laugh. “okay, fine. you have good taste.” then, quieter, as he tugs you against him, pressing a kiss to your forehead—“but only you get to do this, got it?”

KIM SUNOO

you’re the only one who gets to take sunoo's phone without asking, stretching out on his bed while you tap away at some game or fill his gallery with blurry selfies. “baby, at least make them cute if you’re stealing my storage,” he whines, but there’s no real complaint in his voice, just fond exasperation. when you glance at him, pouting, he sighs and moves closer, gently pulling you into his arms. “here, let me help,” he murmurs, resting his chin on your shoulder, his fingers lazily tracing patterns on your arm as he watches you play. and even though he’d usually never let anyone touch his screen, he doesn’t even blink when you scroll through his messages like it’s yours. because, well—so is he.

YANG JUNGWON

jungwon sits at his desk, brows furrowed, fingers flying over his keyboard, deep in concentration. anyone else would know better than to interrupt him, butyou have privileges. without hesitation, you step behind him, draping your arms over his shoulders before pressing a soft kiss to his temple. he doesn’t flinch, doesn’t even pause, just hums in acknowledgment as you pepper kisses along his jaw, his cheek, the slope of his nose. “missed me today, didn't you?” he murmurs, voice laced with amusement, but he tilts his head ever so slightly, giving you more access. you giggle, cupping his face and pressing a lingering kiss to his forehead. “hmm maybe,” you tease, and he finally turns his head, letting his lips brush against your cheek. “only because your my pretty princess,” he says.

NISHIMURA RIKI

riki never lets anyone touch his hair—never. he dodges, swats hands away, glares if someone even tries. but right now, he’s sitting on the floor in front of you, his head resting against your knees as you absentmindedly run your fingers through his soft strands, twisting and braiding as a tv show plays in the background. he doesn’t say a word, just hums lightly, his body relaxed like he was made to be here, like your hands in his hair are the most natural thing in the world. when he turns his head, his lips brush against your fingers in a lazy attempt at a kiss, and you gasp. “ack—stop moving, riki! i was trying to braid your hair!” you huff, tugging a little. he only grins, eyes half-lidded as he tilts his head back into your hands. “then don’t stop,” he murmurs, voice teasing. and god, he’s so down bad, because if it’s you, he’d let you do this forever.

[eicsferrari]

grammys - cs55 smau

summary: yn hard launches her relationship with carlos at the grammys

a/n: short n sweet thing i wrote during online class oops

faceclaim: sabrina carpenter

warnings: some suggestive stuff? nothing major

masterlist

જ ♡ જ

yourusername blue is this season's color

♡ liked by oliviarodrigo and others

view all comments

user7 gorgeous 😍

user19 she's at the grammys and you're not!

lilymhe blue is so your color💙

yourusername i love youuuu

user78 what is this crossover??

user2 you killed it👊🏼

user38 performance of the year <3

જ ♡ જ

sainzupdates carlos via instagram stories

♡ liked by lando and others

user1 Where is he going??

user32 people said they saw him at the grammys ???

user1 what the hell. what is he doing there?

user32 no clue

user84 when you are in a "who's the biggest carlos fan" fight but lando is your opponent

user7 what a hot man🥵

જ ♡ જ

ynupdates yn during her speech: "and lastly i want to thank my husband for being the inspiration behind many of my songs and putting up with me singing about our sex life. i love you"

view all comments

user25 HUSBAND?????? since WHEN???

user5 how can she be this beautiful? it should be illegal

user93 i need to know who was the inspiration for bed chem to thank them🙏🏼

જ ♡ જ

carlossainz55 posted a story!

caption 💪🏼💪🏼

story replies

↪user3 you're a yn fan🫶🏼 taste

↪user84 i was gonna say you two should date but she just hard launched her marriage😭

↪alex_albon we stan a successful woman ♡liked by carlossainz55

જ ♡ જ

carlossainz55 my wife went home with two grammys and one smooth operator

♡ liked by yourusername and others

view all comments

lando how could you do this to me😭😭 you are breaking my heart

yourusername you were at the wedding ???

carlossainz55 and you were my best man ???

lando i'll never recover from this betrayal

user98 this is crazy we didn't even know he was dating someone less alone MARRIED????

user52 and they are gatekeeping the wedding pictures i can't believe it💔

yourusername we'll share some soon don't worry😉

georgerussell63 tell her i'm obsessed with the album! me and carmen can't get enough and are eagerly waiting for the deluxe

yourusername i love you two❤️

user39 tom and zendaya, olivia and louis, dua and callum, yn and carlos...welcome back famous hot couples

જ ♡ જ

yourusername cause yall asked for it. here's to forever and always

♡ liked by carlossainz55 and others

comments have been disabled

જ ♡ જ

carlossainz55 posted a story!

caption it was the best day of my life

જ ♡ જ

yourusername grammys afterparty

♡ liked by taylorswift and others

view all comments

carlossainz55 preciosa😍 te amo

yourusername i love you more🫶🏼🫶🏼

user18 i love how she's so committed to the new williams blue theme, she's one of us <3

user23 just realized she also wore blue while performing🥺

user8 we love a supportive couple

alexandrasaintmleux that dress🔥🔥

yourusername 😘

carlossainz55 it didn't stay on too long

yourusername CARLOS

carlossainz55 don't act shocked you are the one who wrote juno

user68 yn x carlos baby when?

user40 calm down we just found out about them today

lando i can tell by the pictures that carlos was really drunk

yourusername ngl we both were

carlossainz55 my wife won TWO GRAMMYS we had to celebrate

williamsracing as a great poet once said: blue is this season's color💙

yourusername 💪🏼💪🏼

[bogleech]

Even if you don't play this game and know nothing about it I want to see if you can read what these cards do, figure out what my strategy is going to be, and tell me how much you would hate it

[dante-mightdie]

long awaited part three of lowselfesteem!reader and simon

part two

invisible clothes

that’s what you called them, the rags you don when you have to integrate with the general population but you would much rather not be noticed. clothing that is so bland that it isn’t nice enough catch an eye but not hideous enough to catch any negative attention

you had told simon about them once, when he called you out on wearing them every time you stepped out in public, including your dates with him. especially since he knew you had a very elaborate wardrobe with a tailored sense of style

clearly they aren’t invisible enough to hide you from johnny’s guilty eyes from across the store aisle. you sigh when he comes up to you, tapping your shoulder to get your attention. he shifts uncomfortably on his feet

“I know ye probably hate ma guts, lass but ye should ken that simon shut down all of that bet talk after your first date. Ah just bring et up to annoy ‘im.” johnny says, with a nervous chuckles at the end. you don’t laugh alongside him

“okay, fair enough. look, he’s miserable without ye! he comes to the pub just to get pished and mope about how he fucked it all up with ye.” johnny continues, a pleading look in his eyes, “he’s supposed to he coming by to drop off some things of yours tomorrow. just hear him out, please, lass.”

you roll your eyes at him, continuing to grab what you need from the shelves in front of you. not even bothering to look him in the eyes when you finally begin to speak

"why should I? why am I always expected to think of other people even when they hurt me? you and simon didn't think about me or my feelings when you made your stupid bet. neither of you stopped to consider that I was just a person who simply wanted to be left alone." you say with a scoff, "he'll be lucky if I don't slam the door in his face."

johnny shifts on his feet, looking down at the floor since he feels too uncomfortable to look directly at you, "fair enough. take care've yerself, hen."

you bite back tears as you watch him skulk off in the corner of your eye. you stand there for a few more minutes, staring at the stacked shelves in front of you to distract you from the war raging inside of your head

-

it's late at night, nearly midnight, when there's a knock at your door. you let out a sigh, already knowing who was disturbing your doomscrolling at this hour. and when you open the door, you see him. you’re brooding prick of an ex-boyfriend. he at least has the decency to look guilty, like a dog caught ripping up the couch cushions

except he wasn’t a dog, he was the love of your life. and your heart isn’t so easily replaced like a cushion. though he definitely treated it like somewhere to rest his head

“hey.”

you scoff, you’re not sure why. there isn’t anything inherently wrong with what he said but it still annoyed you. he annoyed you. with his stupid stormy eyes and his stupid jokes and freckled shoulders that you used to connect like dots late at night

“just give me my stuff and go, simon. don’t have time for this bullshit.”

he doesn’t flinch. he saw that hit coming, and sometimes you gotta let them swing at you especially when you know that you deserve much worse

the exchange is quick, a box with small memories passed over to you. a couple items of clothing, a book and some toiletries. before you can slam the door in his face, he jams his heavy boot into it

“wait… love, I… there’s somethin’ else. I never gave it to you but it’s yours. got it for you and I’ll never give it to anyone else.”

the glare you give him only falters when he places a small velvet box in your hand, he pauses the speech you can definitely feel coming on. looking at you expectantly to open it. you do, waiting for him to laugh at you when you find nothing in there. ridicule you for even thinking he would consider making you his wife

but all he does it look on solemn, the beautiful ring twinkling as a devastating reminder of what could have been

“I kno’ I ‘ave no right to ask. I wouldn’t insult you like tha’ lovie. you can hate me, I deserve it. but you don’t deserve it. I won’t let you hurt yourself over what I did. you deserve to know the real extent of how bad I fucked up. maybe it’ll help to look at tha’ ring and know that I’ll spend the rest of my life having to know I lost the woman who should be my wife.”

there’s no chance to respond, not like you’d know what to say anyway,

“I’m sorry.”

and then he’s gone.

[iamlostandinneedofcoffee]

I like to imagine that every once in a while Red Hood just goes off comms for long stretches of time and comes back bruised as shit and exhausted before logging off for the night and the rest of bat brigade is trying to figure out which villain of the week keeps jumping him.

Eventually they, cause communication is a skill no one learned, just start harassing hood’s men to find out whose turf they are invading only to find out they thought the bats were beefing with Red again cause he keeps mumbling about brats.

Now they are trying to find out which one of them is lying about fucking with Jason and no one is owning up, the trackers they keep putting on him are fizzling out, no one as any idea and Jason ain’t saying shit. But like he’s never properly irritated about it or asks for help nor can they find anything out so they let it go for now (read keep trying to track him to no avail).

And then one night Red Robin comes across Red getting chased and then fighting off a feral looking teenager on the roofs of Crime Alley and just when he looks like he is getting the upper hand another drops down from above (how the fuck the nearest taller building is not anywhere near close enough to dive into the fight from what the fuck?!?) and joins the brawl.

Tim is about to rush in to help Jason before the two teens’ heads turn in unison to him with Lazarus green eyes and look like cats when they see a red dot. Jason panics and before he can grab them, they leap and now Tim is in a cartoon brawl dust cloud and all and Jason has joined in and is calling them all brats and how his gunna whop their ass- and there is a foot in his mouth.

And yet through it all Tim never feels afraid. In fact, as he fights he realises they are keeping up and beating him all whilst smiling and punning(?!? They must never meet dick SHIT DUCK) and that won’t fucking do, so he brings out all his tools and tricks and is getting matching by two raccoon twins. 20 minutes later they are all grinning bloody smiles and just as he is about to slam his bo staff up into into the female looking twin, a whistle is blown.

They all freeze and look over in unison as if they all became shining quadruplets at a giant shit house built fucking man. And like Tim has seen big men. Bane is a big mother fucker. Superman is a big mother fucker, and is also shaped like one. Bats is big but this guy even though his is maybe not as large he feels infinitely more terrifying and that’s before you get to the flaming(fucking literally, how does that even work or stay in the pony tail) white hair.

“Alright enough for tonight or foods gunna go cold. Inside.” A voice bellows across the roof before the man disappears??!? At the mention of food the one top of Tim almost starts drooling, gets up and starts dragging Tim’s still prone body across the roof and off of it OH FUCK AND INTO A WALL WHA and they went through it… well

A couple second later Jason and the other dude stumble in. Jason picks Tim up as he is coming down from that mini adrenaline rush at and puts a arm around Tim, half hug half chokehold, saying “say nothing and you get to join once a week. Say shit and you’re haunted.” And walks off to the kitchen and starts bringing out food.

… safe to say the rest of the bats are now confused why Tim of all people is now turning up bruised as well with Jason, cause if it was him to start why has he started loosing all of a sudden??? And he says fuck all but his weapons and fighting style has got more chaotic and terrifying.

Oh and he seems to be eating… well you win some and lose some

[woso-dreamzzz]

Injured (Alexia's Version): Future V

Alexia Putellas x Daughter!Reader

Summary: You bring home your girlfriend

It’s not often that Alexia finds herself pacing.

She used to do it a lot when she was still playing. She used to pace before big games, up and down the length of the locker room until finally being allowed out to warm up.

This isn’t like that in the slightest.

This is her meeting your girlfriend.

Your Real Madrid girlfriend.

Alexia had thought you were dating that English girl that plays for Chelsea but apparently that was ‘just a fling’ and ‘sleeping with a friend’ which is something Alexia wasn’t quite sure was allowed but apparently it was.

She knew she had never let you go off to Madrid for a girl’s trip with some of the girls you dance with.

Look what had happened.

You’re bringing home one of Alexia’s worst enemies.

It leaves a bitter taste in her mouth as she peaks out of the front windows to see a fancy car pull up. It’s certainly not yours but you’re the one sliding out of the passenger seat.

Alexia breathes out along sigh as she  pulls herself away, desperate to not let you see her lurking.

“Jaume!” She yells up the stairs,” You sister and her girlfriend is here!”

No answer.

“Jaume!” Alexia yells again,” Stop hiding in your room!”

She waits for a second and then Jaume’s desk chair scrapes against his floor and Alexia can move away from the stairs.

“Olg-“

“I’m already here,” Olga says, breezing into the room with a smile on her face,” Ale, you look like you’re about to pop a vessel.” Her finger smooths down the wrinkle in Alexia’s brow. “Calm down. Nothing bad is going to happen.”

“Our daughter is bringing home an enemy. I’m allowed to be angry.”

“You’re not angry,” Olga says, a soft smile on her face as Alexia glances back at the door,” You’re nervous. You just want y/n to be happy and you’ve not met this girl yet.”

“I just don’t get why she didn’t just stick with the English girl!”

“I thought you didn’t approve of Aggie?”

“I didn’t! I don’t! I don’t know.” Alexia huffs, glancing away. “I just want her to be happy.”

“And I’m sure she’s very happy with Olaya. Now, put a smile on your face and pretend you aren’t nervous.”

“I’m not nervous!”

The doorknocker goes and Alexia jolts in shock.

“Aren’t you going to get it?” Jaume asks from the top of the stairs and Alexia scoffs.

“I don’t want them to know that I’ve been waiting on them.”

“You’re so weird.”

Alexia ignores her son, waiting a few more seconds before opening the door, plastering an incredibly fake smile on her face when she looks at your girlfriend.

To her credit, Olaya Rodrigeuz doesn’t cower much outside of the usual ‘oh my god, Alexia Putellas is looking at me!’.

“Mami,” You say warmly and Alexia’s fake smile morphs into a real one.

“My bambi,” She coos, hands coming up to hold your face,” I missed you.”

“You saw me last weak.”

“That doesn’t mean I can’t miss-“

Alexia freezes as something cold and wet brushes up against her hand and she shrieks.

“Oh, sorry,” You laugh,” This is Flower.”

“That’s a bear.”

“He’s a puppy.”

“Shit, y/n,” Jaume says, forcing his way through the door,” Where did you get a bear?!”

“A puppy.”

“Puppy, bear, same thing,” Jaume says dismissively,” Where’d you get him?”

“I bought him,” Olaya replies as the three of you squeeze into the entrance hall,” Y/n was talking about getting a dog and I saw an ad so I just bought him without thinking.”

It’s probably overreacting on Alexia’s part but she can’t help but notice all the little things as Olaya talks about buying you your dog (who apparently you’ve named Flower). Alexia’s eyes narrow as Olaya’s hand splays out against your hip, the way that she pulls you a little closer and they way you automatically tilt your neck towards her as she presses a soft kiss to just under your jaw.

Your girlfriend is a lot older than you. It’s obvious to everyone but causes the most worry in Alexia.

It was never a secret that you preferred older women. For whatever reason, girls your age never really interested you.

But it always made Alexia wary, especially when said older woman spent money on things like a puppy and held you so close like you were some piece of arm candy.

But that might have just been Alexia’s own interpretation of it.

“Food?” Olga offers up from behind and you stand, clicking your tongue.

“I’ll help. Come on, Flower.”

Your puppy pads obediently over to you and Jaume trails behind, trying to be as close as possible to the bear-like puppy with the flowers on his collar.

Alexia holds her hand out.

Olaya takes it.

Alexia squeezes, her face a mask of indifference.

“So,” Alexia says,” You’re dating my daughter.”

“Yes.”

“And you bought her a puppy.”

“She wouldn’t have done it for herself. She really wanted one but she was nervous to take the last step.”

“So you just bought her a puppy.”

“Yes.”

Alexia stares, long and hard until Olaya visibly slumps, shoulders closing in on herself.

“And the puppy is hers, right? Like if you break up, she gets to keep him?”

Olaya nods. “Yes.”

“Good because she really looks like she loves that dog and I don’t want him taken from her.”

“I only want the best for her,” Olaya says, seemingly uncowed now.

Alexia allows the silence to grow stale for a moment before she finally drops Olaya’s hand.

It isn’t approval. Not yet. But it’s a truce. It’s a ‘I’m not going to throw you out of my house just yet’.

“Now,” Alexia says, leading your girlfriend into the kitchen,” Why don’t you introduce me to my new grandson?”

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　GRAMMYS 2025

chris sturniolo x reader

SUMMARY: Where Y/N, worldwide famous singer, goes to the Grammys 2025 and brings Chris as her pair for the first time.

WARNING: None.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by anon.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is MY idea and work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Y/N had been nominated for five Grammy Awards this year. Five. And yet, for some reason, the thought of stepping onto that carpet, under the flashing lights and watchful eyes of the entire world, made her more nervous than she’d ever been.

It wasn’t her first time - this was her fifth Grammy appearance - but the nerves never seemed to dull, no matter how many times she did this.

Her team had tried everything: chamomile tea, soothing massages, deep breathing exercises, playing her favorite calming playlist at a low volume in the background, even giving her a dozen of those custom-made chocolates with her face printed on them. But nothing helped. Not really.

Not even Chris’s kisses; though she had to admit, they were a very welcome distraction.

They were in a penthouse suite of a luxurious hotel in downtown Los Angeles, even though their house was barely a twenty-minute drive away. It was protocol, her team insisted. Every artist did it - getting ready in a hotel, away from distractions, with stylists, makeup artists, and PR people swarming around. It was meant to be a controlled environment, a perfectly curated lead-up to the biggest night in music. But it only added to the pressure.

Y/N stood in front of a massive floor-to-ceiling mirror, wrapped in a silk robe, her bare feet sinking into the plush carpet as a makeup artist blended soft eyeshadow onto her lids. Her hairstylist was behind her, curling strands of her hair into loose waves. She looked poised on the outside, but internally, her nerves were tying knots in her stomach.

Chris sat on the couch a few feet away, watching her intently. He was already dressed - black tux, crisp white shirt, and a bow tie he had spent fifteen minutes fighting with before her makeup artist took pity on him and fixed it for him.

He looked good.

Really good.

The kind of good that made her momentarily forget about the nerves. But she wasn’t the only one nervous tonight.

Chris had been jittery since this morning, though he tried not to show it. This was his first time attending something this big, this formal, and while he was used to attention, this was a whole new level. He was going to be surrounded by the most famous people in the world, and for the first time, he wasn’t just Chris Sturniolo, the YouTuber; he was Chris Sturniolo, Y/N’s date to the Grammys.

But instead of letting his own anxiety get to him, he focused on her, observing how her fingers twitched, manicured nails shining below the lights with every tremble.

"Baby." He cooed, standing and walking toward her as soon as the makeup artist stepped aside. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her exposed shoulder, his big hands finding home around her hips, squeezing the covered skin. "What are you feeling, huh? 'Can feel you stressing from across the room, doll."

Y/N sighed, her hands gripping the edges of the vanity table, being careful not to knock her knuckles against the three massive bouquets - Nick had arranged for all of them to be delivered straight to her room in that morning.

"I just... I don’t know, Chris." She murmured, voice barely above a whisper. "I know I’ve done this before, but what if I don’t win anything? What if I disappoint everyone?"

Before she could spiral any further, Chris was already moving. His hands slid from her hips to her stomach, wrapping around her in a slow embrace. He pulled her against him, his chest firm against her back, the heat of his body seeping through the thin fabric of her robe.

"Hey." He whispered, lips brushing against the shell of her ear. "Don’t do that."

His voice was gentle but firm, a quiet command that sent a shiver down her spine. She felt his breath against her neck, warm and familiar, grounding her.

"First of all." He continued, his arms tightening around her middle. "You’re the best singer out of everyone in that room tonight. You know that, right?"

Her eyes rolled.

"Baby, you can't say that when Billie Eilish, Taylor Swift-" She started, turning her head slightly, but he was already shaking his head.

"Nope." He cut in, resting his chin in the curve of her neck, his gaze locking onto hers through the mirror. "I said what I said. And for the record." He added, voice lower now, dripping with conviction. "You’re already the winner of everything in my book. Even the categories you’re not nominated in."

She sighed, heart pounding as his hands splayed across her stomach, his thumbs brushing slow, absentminded circles.

"Best Album? Yours." He murmured, letting his lips ghost over her jaw. "Best Song? Yours." His mouth traveled down to her shoulder, barely pressing against her skin, yet setting every nerve ending alight. "Best Human Being to Ever Exist?" He turned his head just enough to meet her eyes in the mirror again, his smirk soft but teasing. "You, obviously."

She let out a small, shaky laugh.

"Chris-"

"I’m serious." He interrupted, turning his head and nuzzling the soft skin of her temple, inhaling the rich scent of her Givenchy perfume. "Your fans love you. I love you. And, babe, let’s be honest, you could drop a single of you just breathing into a mic, and it would still go platinum."

That made her laugh, her eyes rolling with amusement.

"You’re gonna do your best tonight, like you always do. And no matter what happens, I’ll be right there with you."

She finally turned in his hold, her arms looping around his neck and her red tinted lips forming a small pout.

"Even if I trip on the carpet?"

"I’ll trip with you. We’ll make it a trend." Chris grinned, pressing a lingering kiss to the tip of her nose, being excessively careful not to smudge her perfect makeup. "Now, I think there's a worldwide famous singer who should be getting dressed, huh?"

Y/N's eyes stared into blue ones for a moment, smiling with the softness she found in them.

"Yeah... Yeah, you're right."

A sharp knock at the door broke their haze, followed by a loud voice.

"Y/N!"

The voice was unmistakable, high-pitched and full of dramatic flair, and before Y/N could even turn, Harry Lambert had burst into the room, arms spread wide, eyes scanning her from head to toe with theatrical disbelief.

"Oh. My. GOD." He practically floated toward her, his hands fluttering in the air like he was physically trying to grasp the vision before him. "Darling, how dare you stand there looking this stunning before even getting into your dress?"

Y/N barely had time to react before he pulled her into a tight hug, arms wrapped around her like he hadn’t seen her in years - even though they had spoken just yesterday. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, holding her there for a beat longer than necessary, his touch radiating warmth and love.

"My baby girl." He cooed, pulling back slightly to cup her face. "How are we feeling? Nervous? Excited? On the verge of a breakdown?"

"All of the above." Y/N admitted, letting out a breathy laugh as he studied her with fondness.

Harry clicked his tongue.

"Well, you shouldn’t be, because you’re about to own this night. And if anyone so much as dares to breathe in your direction the wrong way, I will be throwing hands."

Chris chuckled from behind them.

"Good to see you, Harry."

"Christopher!" Harry turned to him with a dazzling smile, patting his chest in greeting before narrowing his eyes playfully. "The suit I chose for you was a very good choice, huh? Gucci looks good on you. Now, let’s be clear, your only job tonight is to stand there, look pretty, and worship Y/N like the goddess she is. Do you understand me?"

Chris raised his hands in surrender.

"Oh, trust me, I’ve been doing that since the second I met her."

Y/N felt her cheeks warm as Harry clapped his hands together.

"That’s my boy. Now, enough chit-chat! It is officially time to get my queen into the dress."

The entire room seemed to shift as the energy buzzed with anticipation. Y/N was ushered toward the dressing area, where the Gucci gown had been carefully laid out, glowing under the soft lights. Even without being worn, it commanded attention - the gold fabric shimmering as if infused with actual stardust, the dramatic ruffles sculpted to perfection.

As they helped her into it, every detail came to life. The strapless silhouette hugged her body in all the right places, the embedded crystals catching every flicker of light. The metallic sleeves, voluminous and artful, cascaded around her arms, while the matching ruffles at the bottom framed her steps with effortless grace.

When the final adjustments were made, Harry stepped back, his hands pressed to his chest as if he might faint.

"Oh, sweet heavens above." He whispered, looking genuinely overwhelmed. "I’ve outdone myself. We’ve outdone ourselves."

Chris, who had been sitting on the bed answering his brothers texts, looked up with Harry's voice, suddenly straightening up. His hands dropped to his lap, and his mouth hung open slightly, completely speechless.

"Wow." His voice came out strangled, like he had just been personally attacked.

Y/N turned toward him fully, the movement making the crystals on her dress shimmer, the light practically bending to her will. Chris visibly short-circuited.

"Are you- what- how-" He inhaled sharply, shaking his head as if trying to reboot his brain. "Nah. Nah. This isn’t fair. This should be illegal."

Y/N bit her lip, fighting a smile, but his reaction only got worse. His fingers threaded into his hair, his eyes raking over her from head to toe with pure, unfiltered obsession.

"Jesus fuck." He breathed out, voice a little rough. "You’re gonna kill me tonight, doll."

Harry smirked, tilting his head as he admired her.

"Oh, she’s not just going to kill you, Christopher. She’s going to kill everyone at the Grammys tonight. And I, for one, cannot wait to watch it happen."

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The energy outside the venue was electric. Even from inside the tinted Range Rover, the deafening sound of flashing cameras and screaming paparazzi was unavoidable. Y/N shifted in her seat, inhaling slowly, feeling the vibration of the excitement just beyond the doors.

A hand suddenly slid over her thighs, warm and grounding, caressing the fabric of her dress.

"Ready?" Chris asked, his voice softer than the chaos outside.

Y/N turned to him, wetting her matte lipstick lips.

"Yeah." She breathed, even though her heart was hammering.

Chris smirked knowingly.

"Liar."

Before she could argue, the car door swung open, and an immediate wave of screams hit them like a storm.

Chris stepped out first, adjusting his suit as flashes exploded around him, the sound of his name already being yelled from every direction. He quickly moved around to face the inside of the car, offering his hand.

The second Y/N emerged, the chaos tripled.

"Y/N! Y/N! Over here!"

"Y/N! Christopher! Are you two official?"

"Y/N, do you think you’ll win tonight?"

Y/N barely flinched at the shouting - it was part of the job. Instead, she kept her chin high, gripping Chris’s hand as they made their way down the carpet. The venue was bathed in red and gold hues, a massive step-and-repeat wall covered in Grammy logos standing proudly ahead. The air buzzed with anticipation, celebrities lining the edges of the carpet, all waiting for their moment in front of the cameras.

A staff member approached, guiding them toward a designated spot.

"You first, Ms. Y/N." The woman instructed.

Chris gave Y/N a gentle squeeze before stepping aside, allowing her to take center stage.

And damn, did she own it.

The second she posed, the already flashing cameras seemed to explode.

The fitted, gold gown clung to her frame like liquid metal, sparkling under the lights. The voluminous, ruffled sleeves caught the air as she shifted her stance, making her look like some sort of celestial being - untouchable, ethereal. She turned her head smoothly, flashing a radiant smile as the photographers shouted for her attention.

Chris, standing just a few feet away, was not handling it well. His eyes never left her, completely entranced, like he was seeing her for the first time again, not even noticing the flashs directed to his figure.

Y/N, catching his expression, couldn’t help but smile shyly. She subtly tilted her head toward him between poses, raising a teasing brow.

Chris just shook his head, still gawking, before muttering under his breath.

"Jesus Christ."

The staff member signaled for Chris to approach Y/N for their couple photos. Y/N turned toward him, making a playful shooing motion with her hands as if to snap him out of his trance.

"Earth to Chris." She teased.

Chris didn’t respond - not verbally, at least. Instead, he stepped closer with large steps and grabbed her by the waist, carefully pulling her flush against him, careful with her heels but firm enough to steal a delighted gasp from her. The moment their bodies pressed together, the screams from the crowd outside the barricades and the clicking of cameras reached a new level of hysteria.

The cameras loved them.

Chris leaned in between shots, his lips brushing her ear.

"You think they got food inside?"

Y/N barely bit back a laugh, keeping her expression poised as she continued smiling for the cameras.

"What, you mean like caviar and tiny-ass lobster rolls?"

"I don’t care if it’s a plate of lettuce. I need to eat something before I pass out."

Y/N snorted softly with how dramatic he could be, bumping her hips against his just slightly, careful not to disrupt the pictures.

"You ate almost all of those chocolates back in the hotel. Where does it even go?"

Chris grinned, his fingers squeezing at her waist, effectively freezing her in place.

"Wouldn’t you like to know?"

She rolled her eyes, suppressing a giggle.

"Be serious, Sturniolo."

"I am serious." He looked at her then, really looked at her, and it sent something warm and electric curling down her spine. "You are so fucking beautiful, it’s actually stupid."

Y/N faltered for half a second, her breath catching, not from the flashing lights, not from the cameras, but from him.

Chris chuckled, clearly pleased her reaction.

"Want to give y'a post-celebration present so bad." His voice switched to low and airy, almost lost beneath the noise, but she heard it perfectly.

Y/N swallowed, her mind jumping to conclusions she probably shouldn’t be having on the Grammys red carpet.

"Hm, and what would that be?"

Chris smirked, his fingers flexing at her waist.

"Eat y’out."

Y/N kept her composure like a pro, smiling for the cameras with a practiced grin, but discreetly pressed her thighs together. Two could play this game.

But before she could fire back, a voice interrupted.

"Alright, guys! We need to move to the next area!"

Another event staff member gestured for them to proceed toward the interview section, their tone polite but firm. Y/N exhaled slowly, her heart thudding inside her ears.

Chris sighed dramatically, his grip on her waist tightening for just a second before he let go, traveling up to her hand.

"And here I was, thinking we could just stay here all night."

Y/N squeezed his fingers, tugging him forward.

"Come on, you menace."

As they walked toward the interview zone, the setup became clearer - a sleek, well-lit platform lined with various media outlets, each interviewer eagerly awaiting their next celebrity guest. But before Y/N could even register who was up next, a familiar voice rang out, unmistakably enthusiastic.

"Y/N, oh my God! Get over here!"

Emma Chamberlain.

Y/N's face lit up immediately, and without hesitation, she pulled Chris along, their hands still intertwined as they made a beeline toward Emma. The internet personality-turned-Grammys correspondent was practically bouncing on her heels, her eyes wide with excitement.

As soon as they reached her, Emma lifted her microphone with dramatic flair.

"Ladies and gentlemen, five-time Grammy-nominated Y/N L/N, everyone!"

Y/N laughed, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

"No way you just said that like an awards show host."

Emma grinned.

"I am an awards show host." Then, turning to Chris, she playfully narrowed her eyes. "And, of course, let’s not forget the man of the hour, Chris Sturniolo!"

Chris chuckled, giving a small wave, the silver ring on his index finger glinting against the camera flash.

"That’s me."

Emma wasted no time diving into questions, her energy infectious.

"Okay, first things first, how are you feeling?" She pointed the mic toward Y/N.

Y/N exhaled, a bright smile still gracing her lips.

"Honestly? I’m just... I don’t even know how to put it into words. Happy? Grateful? In shock? All of it at once?" She shook her head in disbelief. "I mean, the Grammys. It’s something you dream about as a kid, you know? And now, five nominations? I feel like I need someone to pinch me."

Chris gently squeezed her hand, leaning in slightly so his mouth was close to the mic, his cheek brushing hers in the process.

"Not gonna lie, I did pinch her earlier to check."

Y/N playfully swatted at him, making Emma laugh.

"Alright, but tell me everything. What were you doing when you found out you were nominated?"

At this, Y/N turned to Chris, already laughing.

"Oh my God, it was chaos."

Chris grinned, nodding while brushing his messy hair back.

"Totally."

Y/N faced Emma again, still giggling.

"Okay, so we were just in the living room, me, Chris, Matt, and Nick. It was so casual, literally just us eating burgers, watching the nominations roll in on TV, not thinking much of it."

Emma’s eyes widened.

"Wait, so you weren’t even refreshing Twitter like a maniac?"

"No!" Y/N shook her head. "I swear, I wasn’t even expecting anything. And then, boom. My name gets called for the first nomination, and I just screamed."

"Nick screamed, too." Chris jumped in, laughing.

Emma gasped.

"Nick would."

Y/N nodded rapidly.

"He did! So then, Chris kisses me, Matt’s literally jumping up and down, and it was just full-on mayhem. But then, like, a minute later, my name gets called again for another nomination."

Chris smirked, nodding his head.

"And again. And again."

Emma covered her mouth, delighted.

"So by the fifth time-"

"I was crying." Y/N admitted, grinning. "Like, full-on sobbing in Chris’s arms."

Emma dramatically put her free hand against her heart.

"This is what I live for." Then, turning to Chris, she grinned mischievously. "Alright, your turn, Sturniolo."

Chris blinked, looking at Y/N before going back to Emma.

"Me?"

Emma nodded, dead serious.

"Yes, you. Because I know you, you act all cool and chill, but I know you were losing your mind when she got nominated."

Chris laughed, shaking his head.

"I mean, yeah, obviously. I was going crazy. But I think it really hit me when I looked at her during the last nomination and realized, this is actually happening. Like, she’s that talented. The world is seeing what I already knew."

Y/N felt her face heat up, a mix of emotions swirling in her chest.

Emma pouted.

"Chris, that's so wholesome. You’re really that boyfriend, huh?"

Chris shrugged, squeezing Y/N’s hand.

"I mean, yeah. Have you met her?"

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully, but her smile didn’t fade.

"I know, right?" Emma nodded at Chris's direction, laughing with Y/N's reaction. "Now, tell me, which nomination are you most excited about?"

Y/N didn’t even hesitate.

"Song of the Year."

Emma’s brows lifted.

"Because...?"

Y/N took a breath, her fingers unconsciously tightening around Chris’s hand.

"Because the song nominated for that category is Lavender Haze, and that song... it just means so much to me." She glanced at Chris, her expression softer now.

Emma’s eyes darted between the two of them, her curiosity sparking instantly. She glanced at Y/N, then at Chris, before turning toward the camera with exaggerated wide eyes.

"Ohhh, I know that look." She teased, pointing between them with a knowing grin. "Okay, spill, tell me about the song."

Y/N let out a breathy laugh with how eager she sounded, meeting Emma’s gaze again.

"You'll know all about it if I win." She winked, her tone warm.

Chris was quick to approach the microphone again.

"Not if, when."

Emma tilted her head, frowning as a pout grew on her lips.

"No way you're going to leave me with this curiosity." She sighed dramatically. "I guess I'll need to watch the awards with double attention." Emma winked to the camera. "Okay, I’m obsessed with you guys. This is too cute. But I won’t keep you any longer, go enjoy your night! And, Y/N, fingers crossed for all five wins!"

Y/N beamed, giving Emma one last hug before she and Chris were guided to the next section of the event. As they walked, the lights of the Grammys venue shining ahead, Chris leaned in close, his lips brushing her ear.

"You’re killing it, doll."

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The moment Y/N and Chris stepped into the grand main salon, the shift in the atmosphere was almost physical. The flashing lights of the red carpet were behind them, replaced by the elegant glow of chandeliers and the soft hum of conversation. Celebrities, industry giants, and music legends filled the expansive room, dressed in their finest, the air buzzing with anticipation.

A staff member immediately approached them with a warm smile, gesturing toward their assigned table.

"Good evening, Ms. L/N, Mr. Sturniolo. Right this way, please."

As they walked through the lavishly decorated space, Y/N’s fingers instinctively tightened around Chris’s hand, her nerves still tingling with the knowledge that the biggest names were around her.

Halfway to their table, a familiar voice called out from the side.

"Chris! No way- dude!"

Chris turned toward the sound, a grin instantly spreading across his face when he saw Troye Sivan standing up from his table, waving him over.

Troye had met Chris and his brothers just two weeks ago at a Prada fashion show, and the energy between them had been instantly chill and friendly.

"Troye, hey, what’s up, man?" Chris greeted as he pulled him in for a quick hug.

Meanwhile, Y/N turned toward Sabrina Carpenter, who was seated beside Troye in the most ethereal baby blue dress, its delicate fabric flowing like water over her frame.

"Sabrina, hi!" Y/N greeted, her voice lighting up as she fully took in the details of her look. "Wow, you look absolutely stunning. Like, actually unreal."

Sabrina’s eyes widened for a split second, surprise flashing across her face before it melted into the sweetest, most genuine smile. Without a second thought, she pushed herself up from her seat, reaching for Y/N as if they were lifelong friends and pulling her into a warm, affectionate hug. She squeezed tightly, her energy radiating pure kindness.

"Oh my god, stop." Sabrina gushed, pulling back just enough to look at Y/N, her hands still resting gently on her arms. "That means the world coming from you. And please, look at you!" She emphasized, eyes scanning Y/N from head to toe with genuine admiration. "You look like an actual goddess."

Y/N laughed softly, shaking her head as she absentmindedly smoothed her hands over the golden fabric of her dress.

"It’s all Lambert’s magic." She admitted with a playful grin, referring to her trusted stylist. Then, with a spark of excitement, she added. "I heard you’re performing tonight, I cannot wait to see it!"

Sabrina practically bounced in place, her excitement just as contagious.

"Oh, that makes me so nervous but also so happy." She admitted with a laugh, her hands clasping together. "I just hope I don’t trip or something."

Y/N shook her head instantly.

"No way, you’re going to kill it. I already know it."

Chris and Troye exchanged a few more words, something about how amazing the Prada show had been and how they should schedule to do something together in the future, before Chris gave him a casual pat on the shoulder.

"We’ll catch up later, yeah? We gotta find our table before they go live."

Troye grinned.

"For sure. Enjoy the night, guys."

After one last big smile at Sabrina, Y/N slipped her hand back into Chris’s as they navigated through the room.

Their table was positioned with a perfect view of the stage, the paper cards on their seats spelling out their names in black ink below a selected picture of their faces.

As they sat down, Y/N exhaled, glancing up at the stage. A quick glance at the massive countdown screen told her they had ten minutes before the live broadcast began.

"Damn." She muttered, leaning toward Chris. "Didn’t even realize how much time passed outside."

Chris chuckled, his voice low.

"That’s ‘cause you were too busy looking hot and stealing everyone’s attention."

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the amused smile that tugged at her lips.

"Come'ere, babe." He asked, extending his arm in her direction, asking silently for her to move closer.

Her eyes sparkled with affection, and she shifted her chair slightly, moving closer to Chris until she was practically pressed against his side. Without hesitation, he wrapped his extended arm around her upper body, pulling her in securely. The warmth of his body mixed with the familiarity of his presence was grounding and comforting.

Chris pressed a soft kiss to her temple, his lips lingering for just a second longer than necessary.

Y/N tilted her head up to look at him, her eyes shining under the dimmed chandeliers.

"Thank you." She whispered, her voice barely audible over the hum of the room.

Chris furrowed his brows slightly, looking down at her, their faces so close he could feel her warm breath hitting his chin.

"For what?"

"For being here with me. For always being here for me."

His gaze softened immediately, and the way he looked at her - so full of quiet devotion - made her heart swell.

"Forever, baby." He murmured, squeezing her gently.

Before Y/N could say anything else, a new voice cut into their moment.

"Excuse me, I hope I’m not interrupting anything."

The voice was warm, familiar, and utterly unmistakable.

Both Y/N and Chris turned toward the sound, and in an instant, Y/N felt the entire world freeze. Her breath caught in her throat, her heart stuttered, and for a brief, terrifying moment, she wondered if she had actually left her body.

Because standing there, just a few feet away, in all her effortless, golden-lit, legendary glory, was Taylor Swift.

Taylor Swift.

Y/N swore she could hear the heavens parting and angels singing in the background.

Taylor was an absolute vision in a stunning, strong red mini dress, her signature red lip effortlessly bold, her blonde hair framing her face in soft waves.

And she was smiling - smiling - at her.

"Oh my god." Y/N blurted out, the words tumbling out of her mouth before she could even attempt to reel them back in.

Taylor let out a soft laugh as she shook her head lightly, eyes twinkling.

"I just wanted to say that I’m such a huge fan of your work. Lavender Haze is absolutely everything."

Y/N felt her soul leave her body.

Her brain quite literally short-circuited. Because- because what?

Taylor Swift, the Taylor Swift, her biggest inspiration, her songwriting idol, just complimented her music?

There was a very real possibility that she had just blacked out.

Chris shifted slightly beside her, maintaining his arm above the back of her chair, obviously trying so hard not to burst out laughing at how starstruck she looked.

Somehow, somehow, Y/N managed to keep her expression together, even though her heart was doing full-blown Olympic-level gymnastics in her chest.

"That means everything coming from you." She breathed, every word laced with pure, raw sincerity. "Thank you so, so much."

Taylor’s smile only widened, like she could feel how much those words meant to Y/N.

"Seriously." She said, her voice warm and genuine. "I’ve been listening to it on repeat. You’re insanely talented. The way you crafted that song... you have such a gift."

Y/N felt an actual tear prick at the corner of her eye. She wanted to scream. She wanted to hug her. She wanted to tattoo this moment onto her soul and never forget it.

And then, as if she couldn’t possibly adore her any more, Taylor turned to Chris, offering him the same bright, kind smile.

"And of course, you." She said, her tone playful but just as sincere. "I love what you and your brothers are doing on YouTube. It’s always fun seeing people bring fresh energy to the space."

Chris looked genuinely taken aback for a moment. His eyebrows lifted slightly, and for the first time, Y/N saw a flicker of oh wow, this is real life in his expression.

"That’s- wow, okay, that’s crazy." He said, running a hand through his hair with an incredulous chuckle. "Thank you, that’s- man, that’s insane coming from you."

Taylor grinned, her hand gently squeezing Y/N’s shoulder, grounding her back to reality.

"I won’t keep you guys." She said softly. "I just wanted to say that. Hope you both have the best night."

And just like that, she turned, walking back toward her table.

For a long, stunned second, Y/N just stood there, processing what had just happened. Then, with wide eyes, she turned to Chris, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Did that just happen?"

Chris, still looking way too amused, nodded, his grin stretching across his face.

"Yup." He confirmed. "And you just casually had a conversation with Taylor Swift like it was nothing."

Y/N let out a sharp exhale, pressing her hands over her face.

"I need a second."

Chris laughed, and before she could even register it, he was wrapping both arms around her, pulling her in tightly, his face pressing against her hair.

"Proud of you, popstar." He murmured, his voice laced with nothing but warmth.

Before she could respond, the lights dimmed, and the energy in the room shifted as a voice echoed through the speakers.

"Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome your host for the 67th Annual Grammy Awards, Trevor Noah!"

A roar of cheers erupted as the towering LED screens flanking the stage flickered to life, displaying Trevor Noah’s wide, mischievous grin. He strolled onto the main floor rather than standing on the stage, seamlessly blending into the sea of round tables where the biggest names in the industry were seated.

He adjusted the microphone in his hand, letting the applause die down just enough before flashing a knowing smirk.

"Alright, ladies and gentlemen." He began, his smooth voice carrying through the arena. "This is it, the 67th Grammys! Music’s biggest night! The Super Bowl for people who cried to Folklore, danced to Beyoncé, and worked out to Travis Scott, all in the same day!"

Laughter rippled through the crowd as the camera panned to a few artists nodding dramatically in agreement.

"And listen, let’s be honest. The Grammys are basically just a really fancy dinner party where we all pretend we haven’t been stalking the winners list since yesterday." Another wave of laughter followed. "But tonight... tonight, we are celebrating the best of the best in music. The songs that made us scream in our cars, the albums that made us question our entire existence, and the artists who consistently ruin our Spotify Wrapped every year."

Trevor began walking casually between the round tables, grinning as he looked around at the audience.

"And let’s not forget the real stars of the night, the seating arrangements. Have you seen these tables? It’s like the ultimate Hunger Games. You got legends, you got rookies, and you got the poor artists who are just hoping they don’t get caught in an awkward cutaway during a joke."

The camera zoomed in on a few newer artists laughing nervously, earning a chuckle from the crowd.

Trevor continued weaving his way through the tables, his eyes scanning the sea of music’s biggest names.

"And speaking of icons." He said, stopping by a particular table. "Tonight, we have the one and only Y/N L/N with us!"

The moment her name left his lips, the entire arena erupted into cheers. The camera cut to Y/N’s table, her face instantly lighting up with a radiant smile. Chris grinned smugly as he watched her soak in the moment.

Y/N turned slightly to face the camera that was now focused on her, offering a soft wave. The massive screen above the stage displayed a live feed of her, the applause continuing as Trevor beamed.

"Now, listen, if you somehow missed it, Y/N is up for five nominations tonight!" Trevor announced, pointing at her with mock emphasis. "Five nominations, guys. For songs and the album she announced when she won last year. That’s how much of a legend she is."

Y/N let out a soft laugh, her cheeks warming as she watched herself on the big screen. The camera panned slightly to Chris, who was nodding with a smug expression, as if silently agreeing with every word Trevor was saying.

"Plus." Trevor continued, stepping closer to their table. "If Y/N wins tonight, she could be the first artist ever to win Album of the Year five times."

Gasps and cheers rippled through the audience, while Y/N’s smile grew impossibly wider.

"Which means, she would break the record of four wins set all the way back in 2024 by-" Trevor raised his free hand, making a show of pretending to check an invisible list on his palm. "Y/N L/N!"

The entire room erupted into even louder applause, whistles echoing through the space as Trevor dramatically motioned toward her again.

Y/N's eyebrows flew up, feigning surprise, trying to contain her giddiness while Chris chuckled beside her, mouthing 'that's my girl' to a camera pointing his way.

Trevor placed a hand on his hip, looking toward the camera with mock exasperation.

"So basically, Y/N is out here breaking her own records. Just casually deciding that four wins aren’t enough and going for five. That’s like running a marathon, winning, and then saying, 'You know what? Let’s do it again, backwards'."

More laughter filled the room, Y/N pressing a hand over her mouth to keep from giggling too much. Trevor grinned, looking at her one last time.

"Listen, Y/N, whatever happens tonight, you’re already a legend. But if you win that fifth Grammy, just promise me you won’t announce another album mid-acceptance speech. Give the rest of the industry a fighting chance, okay?"

Y/N laughed, shaking her head, and Chris patted her thigh under the table, looking thoroughly entertained.

Trevor winked before turning back to the audience, raising his mic once again.

"Alright, let’s get this incredible night started! We’ve got performances, surprises, and probably a few moments that’ll break the internet. Let’s do this!"

The crowd roared as the cameras pulled away, cutting to a sleek transition video, signaling the official start of the show. Y/N exhaled, stealing a glance at Chris, who simply grinned and pulled her back to his chest, pressing his lips against her cheek.

"You’re so winning tonight."

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The moment the last notes of Birds of a Feather echoed through the grand hall, Y/N felt like she was floating. Billie Eilish had just delivered one of the most breathtaking performances she had ever seen, and she could still feel the goosebumps lingering on her arms.

She turned to Chris, her eyes shining with excitement, her heart still beating to the rhythm of the song.

"Billie is unreal." She gushed, shaking her head in disbelief. "Like, every time she performs, it’s like she’s singing straight to my soul."

Chris let out a chuckle, his arm draped lazily around her shoulders, pulling her close.

"Nick would actually kill to be here right now." His lips quirked up in amusement. "I bet he’s texting us like a mad man."

Y/N laughed softly, already imagining Nick’s all-caps messages blowing up their group chat. But before she could even think of checking, the stage lights dimmed slightly, and the screens around the venue shifted. A familiar melody played in the background as a figure gracefully stepped onto the stage. The chatter in the audience softened as people turned their attention to her.

Taylor Swift.

Y/N straightened in her seat, her heart picking up speed.

Chris immediately caught the change in her posture and smirked.

"Oh shit." He teased, giving her shoulder a little squeeze. "Your idol is speaking. Do you need me to hold you so you don’t pass out?"

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t deny the excitement bubbling in her chest.

Taylor approached the microphone with that effortless charm that made the entire room fall silent. She smiled warmly, tucking a strand of golden hair behind her ear before speaking.

"Good evening, everyone." She greeted, her voice carrying easily through the venue. "Tonight has been incredible so far, and I am so honored to be here presenting this next award."

Y/N opened a genuine smile, squeezing Chris's thigh below her fingers.

"Album of the Year is such a special award because it represents not just music, but stories. It’s about the albums that stayed with us, that shaped our emotions, our memories. The ones that became the soundtrack to our lives." Taylor continued, her expression softening as she held up the envelope. "And with that being said, the Grammy goes to..."

She slid her fingers under the flap and carefully pulled out the card, unfolding it with precision.

Y/N could feel Chris’s arms tighten around her. His body heat a cocoon around her own as she clutched onto him, her pulse thundering in her temple.

A second of silence stretched. Then Taylor’s eyes scanned the paper, and the biggest, brightest smile took over her face. Her gaze lifted, seemingly searching the crowd for someone.

Y/N furrowed her brows slightly.

Taylor found her.

And then, with a warmth that sent shivers down Y/N’s spine, Taylor announced.

"Y/N L/N, Midnights."

The world tilted.

For a solid moment, Y/N didn’t move. She couldn’t move. The air in her lungs disappeared, her vision blurred instantly with unshed tears, and her mouth fell open in pure, unfiltered shock, her hands hovering near her mouth, trembling as realization crashed into her like a tidal wave.

Album of the Year.

She won.

She won.

Chris, on the other hand, reacted immediately.

"YES!" He shouted, his voice cutting through the noise as he punched the air, his excitement completely unfiltered. People turned, smiling, laughing, but Chris didn’t care. His hands were already on Y/N, his eyes scanning her face.

She wasn’t breathing.

"Babe." His voice softened instantly as he leaned in, his forehead almost touching hers. "Hey, you did it."

Y/N sucked in a sharp, shaky breath, but it wasn’t enough. Tears welled in her eyes, spilling over before she could stop them, her body shaking with the force of emotions she had no chance of containing.

A broken sob escaped her lips.

Chris pulled her in before she could crumple, wrapping her up in the kind of hug that blocked everything else out. His arms were warm, steady, his lips pressing against her forehead as he whispered, his voice firm this time.

"You did it."

Y/N let out a wet laugh against his shoulder, her fingers clutching onto him for just a second longer before she finally let go.

He gently lowered his head, making sure she looked at him.

And God, the way he was looking at her.

Like she had just built the entire universe with her bare hands.

"Go get your Grammy, winner." He murmured, the words slow and soft and filled with everything.

Y/N let out another broken breath, nodding before finally, finally turning toward the stage.

The journey to the top felt surreal, like she was floating. The cheers, the applause, the faces she recognized - people she had idolized - they all blurred together.

And then suddenly, she was there.

Standing at the top.

Face to face with Taylor Swift.

Who was smiling at her, waiting for her, Grammy in hand.

Y/N’s breath hitched all over again.

Her hands, still unsteady, reached out, fingers closing around the golden gramophone. The weight of it sent a whole new wave of emotions crashing into her.

Before she could even process what was happening, Taylor pulled her into a hug - tight, warm, real.

"Congratulations." Taylor whispered against her ear, and god, if that wasn’t the most surreal moment of Y/N’s entire life. "You deserve this so much."

A choked noise left Y/N’s lips as she nodded weakly, her throat too tight to speak.

She deserved this.

She deserved this.

Her fingers traced over the Grammy, like she needed physical proof that it was real before she finally turned to the microphone.

She inhaled deeply. Opened her mouth.

"I-I don’t even know what to say right now." She admitted, biting her bottom lip. "I’m- god, I’m just so honored."

The crowd cooed, and Y/N let out a breathless laugh of her own, shaking her head as more tears slipped down her cheeks.

"This is insane." She said, shaking her head slightly. "Being nominated in this category, alongside so many incredible artists, artists I’ve admired for years, was already more than I could’ve ever dreamed of. To even stand beside you all tonight, to celebrate music with you? That was already everything."

Her chest rose and fell as she blinked away the heat gathering behind her eyes, sweeping her gaze across the crowd.

"I have to thank my incredible producer, my team, every single person who helped bring this album to life." Her voice wavered, thick with emotion. "You guys took my wild, messy ideas and turned them into something real, something that I never could have done alone. And I will never stop being grateful."

She wet her lips, inhaling deeply before her smile stretched just a little wider.

"My fans..." Her voice caught slightly, her hand pressing over her heart. "You guys have given me everything. You’ve let me tell my stories, and you’ve listened over and over and over again. You’ve made this dream of mine possible, and I love you more than I can ever put into words."

The cheers swelled again, voices from every corner of the room shouting her name. Her grip on the Grammy tightened as she shifted her weight slightly.

"To my family, Matt and Nick, my biggest cheerleaders." She laughed softly, looking at the main camera pointing at her. "I love you guys, you already know that."

And then, as if the moment had been waiting for this, her gaze lifted to him. Her breath hitched, lips curling into a smile that was just for him.

"And lastly." She said, her voice softer now. "To my boyfriend, Chris."

A ripple of excitement spread through the audience, but Y/N didn’t hear it. Not when those impossibly blue eyes were locked onto hers, not when his expression softened with something so tender, so proud, it made her knees weak.

"Thank you for being the creative genius that you are." She said, eyes never leaving his. "For staying up with me in the studio when I couldn’t figure out the right melody, even when I was on hour ten of tweaking the same one."

Laughter rolled through the room, and Chris grinned, shaking his head.

"For never doubting me." She continued, her throat tightening. "Even when I doubted myself. For being my biggest supporter. My muse. Every song, every lyric... You are in all of them.”

Chris exhaled sharply, his jaw tensing, his hand pressing over his heart as if feeling her love for him.

"Thank you." She finished simply, her voice steady, full of everything she couldn’t quite put into words.

The applause was deafening. A roar of cheers, of love, of celebration.

But all Y/N could hear was the thundering of her own heart.

This was real.

She had just won Album of the Year for the fifth time in a row.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The massive screens on either side of the stage illuminated with Trevor Noah’s face again as he took the microphone, now standing above all of them, his signature charm radiating through the room.

"Alright, people." He started, a knowing smirk on his lips. "This is it, one of the most expected award of the night. Song of the Year."

The audience erupted into applause, a tangible wave of excitement washing over the room.

Y/N could barely hear it. Her entire body felt like it was wound up in a coil, so tight that she might snap. Her heart pounded mercilessly against her ribcage as she focused on the only thing grounding her - Chris’s hand wrapped tightly around hers.

She could feel the heat of his palm, the way his fingers curled firmly around hers, almost as if he knew she needed the anchor.

Trevor continued, his voice filling the grand space.

"Now, we all know Song of the Year isn’t just about a hit track. It’s about storytelling. It’s about lyrics that mean something that connects with people, that makes you feel something in your soul."

Y/N squeezed her eyes shut for a second. God, she felt like she was going to throw up.

Chris, meanwhile, kept his eyes locked on the stage, his jaw set, body tense. His grip on her hand tightening, his thumb brushing over the back of her hand once - just once - as if silently telling her, I’ve got you.

Trevor continued listing the nominees, their song snippets playing softly over the speakers, but Y/N’s mind was a blur. The only thing she could feel was her heartbeat hammering violently inside her chest.

She could barely hear Trevor’s next words over the rush of blood in her ears.

"And the Grammy goes to..."

A dramatic pause.

It felt endless. It felt cruel.

Y/N finally lifted her head, eyes darting to the stage.

Trevor’s gaze swept across the room before his smile widened.

"Y/N L/N, Lavender Haze!"

The room erupted. Applause, cheers bouncing off the walls, her own voice echoing from the speakers, but Y/N barely registered any of it.

Her breath hitched, her entire body jerking forward as if her heart had physically pulled her out of her seat. Her hands flew to her face, pressing against her eyes, trying to contain the overwhelming rush of emotions slamming into her all at once.

Oh, god. Oh, god.

Chris was already moving before she could even think. His chair scraped back, his arms were on her in an instant, pulling her up, grounding her before she could float away in all of this.

"Oh my god." The words tumbled out of her, barely a whisper against her palms, her chest rising and falling too quickly to keep up.

Chris didn’t hesitate. His arms wrapped around her tightly, anchoring her, holding her so close she could feel his heartbeat against hers.

"I am so fucking proud of you." His voice was right against her ear, steady, sure. "You are everything, baby."

That was it. That was what made the tears slip free.

But Chris didn’t let her hide.

With infinite tenderness, he pulled her hands away from her face, his thumbs sweeping over her damp cheeks. Then, before she could even catch her breath, he cupped her jaw and kissed her, firm, lingering, so full of love that everything else around them faded into nothing.

The crowd reacted instantly - cheers, whistles, camera flashes exploding in rapid succession - but Y/N only felt him.

When he pulled back, his hand found the small of her back, keeping her close, his face glowing with pride.

"Go get your second Grammy, superstar."

She exhaled shakily, nodding as she turned toward the stage for the second time in that night.

With each step, she forced herself to breathe.

In.

Out.

The massive gold-lettered GRAMMY AWARDS logo towered behind Trevor as he extended the award toward her, his smile warm and genuine.

"Y/N, congratulations." He said, offering a short but meaningful handshake.

Y/N took the Grammy statue with slightly trembling hands, whispering.

"Thank you so much." Before stepping toward the microphone.

As she turned, facing the sea of the world’s most influential artists, the weight of the moment finally settled on her. She was with her second award in her hands.

She barely had time to process it before her gaze instinctively found Chris.

He was standing at their table, hands tucked into his pants pockets, eyes locked onto hers. And when she hesitated, nerves bubbling up again, he gave her the smallest nod.

A simple movement.

But one that made her chest ache in the best way.

Y/N exhaled, adjusting her grip on the award.

"I- uh, I think I blacked out for a second there."

The room laughed, the tension easing instantly.

Y/N smiled, shaking her head.

"I genuinely don’t even know where to start. Again. This... this is insane."

She swallowed, her grip tightening on the Grammy as she steadied herself. The applause had started to fade, giving her space to speak, but her mind was still spinning.

"Lavender Haze is about love." She let the words settle, looking down for a brief moment before lifting her gaze straight to him. "The kind of love that blocks out the noise. The kind that just is, no matter what’s said, no matter what’s assumed. The kind that’s real."

Chris’s expression didn’t change, but she saw it, the slight shift in his jaw, the way his fingers curled against his palm, like he was physically stopping himself from reacting too much. From crumbling, maybe.

"This song wouldn’t exist without that love." Y/N wet her lips, heart hammering. "Without him."

A murmur rippled through the audience. People turned toward Chris, whose head finally dropped for half a second, his tongue running over his bottom lip before he glanced back up at her.

Y/N barely heard the movement. Barely noticed the cameras zooming in on them, barely cared about the entire world watching, because this wasn’t for them.

"This music is for you, Chris." Her voice was softer now, but no less sure. "And about you. And because of you."

Chris inhaled sharply, his chest rising with the movement. He was blinking faster now, his lips parting slightly, his entire body still, like if he moved, even a little, he’d break.

"You have been my safe place in ways I never even thought possible." Y/N continued, her voice thick with emotion. "You have shown me love in a way that makes the rest of the world fade out. And I wrote this because I needed people to hear what that feels like."

A pause.

Chris pressed his knuckles against his mouth, his gaze locked onto her like she had gravity itself wrapped around her fingers.

"So, I don’t need to thank anyone else for this." Y/N said simply, shaking her head. "This is you. This was always you."

The room was silent.

The world was silent.

Then, like a tidal wave, the applause crashed back over the moment, a roar of cheers and shouts as the weight of her words settled over the audience.

Chris didn’t move.

Didn’t clap.

Didn’t even breathe for a second.

He just looked at her with the most bright blue eyes.

She nodded, finally stepping back from the mic, Trevor clapping beside her before escorting her off stage.

And the second she made it back to her table, Chris was there.

Before she could even react, he pulled her against him, lips finding hers in a way that had the cameras flashing wildly, had people cooing, but none of it mattered.

Because for Y/N, all that existed was him.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Five nominations.

Five won awards.

She did it.

She had won five Grammys tonight.

She still couldn’t fully process it.

The air outside the main salon was crisp with the late-night chill, but Y/N barely felt it. The sheer exhaustion in her limbs, the dull ache in her feet from hours in high heels, and the weight - both literal and emotional - of the five golden Grammys in her hands left her in a haze.

Chris walked beside her, just as tired, but his expression was still warm with lingering pride. His free hand held two of her awards, his fingers occasionally brushing against hers as they made their way toward the grey wall - the makeshift backdrop set up just for the winners to take their photos.

Y/N’s sharp eyes were quick to spot something - or rather, someone - familiar.

Cole Walliser. The photographer behind every iconic Glambot moment and best photographs at major award shows.

The moment Cole noticed her, his face lit up in recognition, and he immediately called out.

"Y/N! Oh my god, look at these babies!" He gestured toward her stack of trophies, shaking his head in disbelief. "Get over here. You already know the drill!"

Y/N laughed, already making her way toward him, Chris trailing behind her with a wide smile.

"Oh, I think I remember it."

Cole smirked, playing along.

"Yeah? You sure about that? Feels like I’ve only filmed you a dozen times or so."

"Something like that." She teased before gesturing toward Chris with her head. "Brought a friend this time."

Chris scoffed, giving her the most offended look.

"Friend my ass."

Y/N burst into laughter, nudging him playfully, while Cole chuckled at their dynamic.

"Alright, what’s the game plan? We need to show these off."

Y/N barely had time to respond before Chris was already moving, helping her adjust the awards so she could hold them all without them toppling over.

"Wait, wait, here, give me that one." His voice was soft, concentrated, as he carefully restacked them, his touch both gentle and efficient. "Alright, you good? You got ‘em?"

She let out a breathy laugh, adjusting her grip.

"Yeah, I think so."

Cole grinned, stepping back to gesture toward the marked spot in front of the camera.

"Perfect, then. Right this way, Ms. Sturniolo."

Y/N choked on a laugh, and Chris practically beamed.

"Ms. Sturniolo, huh?" Chris turned to her, eyes shining with excitement, his grip on her lower back tightening slightly as he guided her onto the designated Glambot mark. "I like the sound of it."

Y/N rolled her eyes, but her laughter betrayed how much she loved seeing him so giddy.

"Don’t let it get to your head, Mr. Sturniolo."

Chris grinned.

"Oh, it’s already there."

As Cole called out instructions, Chris stepped back, giving her space, but he didn’t leave. Instead, he lingered off to the side, watching her with the biggest, most heart-wrenchingly proud smile on his face.

Y/N could feel his gaze on her as she smiled to Cole’s moving camera. She tilted her head, posing slightly, but every time she caught Chris’s eyes in the background, her lips twitched into a barely-contained grin.

She couldn’t help it.

This moment was surreal.

She was standing there, arms full of Grammys, while her person stood just a few feet away, looking at her like she had hung the damn stars in the sky.

After a few more clicks, she shifted the weight of the awards in her arms before looking toward Waliser.

"Can we do one with Chris?" She asked, glancing between the camera and Chris himself.

Cole barely hesitated, quickly nodding.

"Oh, absolutely! Christopher, hop in!"

Chris blinked.

"Oh, I mean- I wasn’t-"

"Oh, shut up and get over here." Y/N teased, a playful glint in her tired eyes.

Chris huffed a soft chuckle before stepping forward, standing beside her as she started redistributing the awards.

"Here." She murmured, placing two specific trophies into his hands.

Song of the Year and Album of the Year.

Chris furrowed his brows slightly, glancing down at the awards before looking back at her.

"Doll-"

"These two." She said softly, eyes locking onto his. "I only got because of you."

His throat bobbed as he swallowed, his fingers tightening around the trophies instinctively.

"Y/N-"

"Just hold them with me." She whispered, nudging him gently.

Chris exhaled through his nose, his lips pressing into a thin line before he gave in, nodding as they both turned to face the camera.

Cole then gave play on his camera, but Y/N barely paid attention to it. She could feel Chris's eyes at her again, his expression unreadable, almost like he was too full of emotion to put it into words.

When the last one was taken, Chris nudged her shoulder lightly.

"C’mon, superstar. Let’s get out of here."

She didn’t hesitate.

After exchanging warm goodbyes with Cole, Y/N and Chris started making their way toward the private exit where their Range Rover was waiting.

Y/N’s entire body felt like it was dragging now, the adrenaline wearing off fast. She wanted nothing more than to be curled up at home, in bed, preferably with Chris’s arms around her.

But before they could reach the doors-

"Y/N!"

A reporter suddenly appeared in front of them, stepping way too close for comfort. Y/N barely had time to react before the microphone was practically in her face.

"So, are you guys heading to the after-party?" The woman asked, her tone almost demanding, her smile overly eager. "What are the plans for the rest of the night?"

Y/N blinked, momentarily stunned by how aggressive the approach was.

Chris, on the other hand... His entire expression darkened. His jaw clenched, and his brows furrowed deeply, his grip tightening around the awards as he took a subtle step closer to Y/N, his entire posture radiating protectiveness.

If looks could kill, the woman would’ve been vaporized on the spot.

But before Chris could say anything, Y/N, despite being exhausted, handled it perfectly.

She didn’t flinch. Didn’t react.

Instead, she simply smiled, a polite, but pointed smile.

"I’m heading home, actually." She said smoothly, adjusting the awards in her arms. "To my family." The reporter barely had time to respond before Y/N added. "Thank you so much. Have a great night."

And just like that, she turned, walking away.

Chris blinked. Then, a slow, smug smirk crept onto his lips as he followed her.

Y/N didn’t give the woman another second of her time. She just kept walking, invisibly pulling Chris with her, her arm brushing against his with every step, greeting and thanking each staff member in the way with warm smiles.

Chris let out a low chuckle as they reached the car, expertly balancing both awards in one hand while using the other to pull open the door for her.

"Damn. That was smooth." His voice was warm, laced with amusement.

Y/N smirked at him over her shoulder, eyes twinkling despite the exhaustion sinking in.

"I’m too tired to deal with more people tonight."

Chris snorted, watching as she slid into the leather seat with a sigh of relief.

"Fair enough."

When he finally climbed into the seat beside hers, he shut the door with a groan, leaning his head back for a second before exhaling slowly.

And just like that, the moment they were sealed inside the warm car, blocking the sounds of loud voices and clicks, the exhaustion slammed into them both.

Y/N melted into the headrest, her eyes falling shut as she let out a deep, heavy breath.

"I feel like I ran a marathon."

Chris chuckled under his breath, rolling his shoulders to ease the tension.

"You did. An emotional one."

She hummed in agreement, her breathing slowing as the exhaustion took hold. Chris reached over instinctively, finding her hand in the dim light of the car, fingers slotting between hers with ease.

His thumb brushed over her knuckles, slow and deliberate, grounding her in the quiet.

"M’so proud of you, baby." His voice was soft, almost a whisper, like he didn’t want to disturb the peacefulness settling over them.

Y/N turned her head toward him, eyelids heavy, but her lips curled into the smallest, sleepiest smile.

"Love you."

Chris lifted their joined hands without hesitation, pressing a gentle kiss to her knuckles, lingering there for just a second longer than necessary.

"Love you more."

She let her eyes flicker down, gaze landing on the golden awards sprawled across her lap and the seat beside her. She reached out, fingertips tracing the engravings, still not entirely believing they were hers.

She let out a thoughtful hum. Five more Grammys.

"We’re gonna have to find space for these at home." She murmured, brows knitting together as she looked over at Chris. "I have no idea where we’re putting them."

Chris chuckled, shaking his head.

"Already taken care of."

She raised an eyebrow.

"What?"

"Nick ordered a whole-ass display cabinet for that empty wall across from the kitchen." He admitted, shooting her a knowing look. "Figured we’d need it."

Y/N blinked, her lips parting slightly.

"He-"

"Yeah." Chris smirked. "So, we’ll put these there with the others from the past years..." He paused, his eyes twinkling playfully. "Until there’s no room left, popstar."

Y/N huffed a soft laugh, shaking her head before leaning over to press a quick kiss to his cheek.

"At this rate." She teased, nuzzling his soft skin. "We’ll need a whole new house."

It was no surprise when, in the next TikTok, the boys recorded in their kitchen, the cabinet full of awards served as the background.

[prisjean]

₊˚ˑ༄ؘ HELD CLOSE caleb x reader

synopsis: after finding out your ex cheated on you, an angry caleb comes and saves the day, and then comforts you hehe ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧

tw: MDNI +18, p in v, no condom (pls use protection), cumming inside, caleb gets NEEDY (or i try to make him seem that way lolz), he says pipsqueak in the middle of it (only once), dry humping, slight biting, and long plot (i try to make it worth it PLS)

authors note: literally i had to take a break writing, esp during the dry humping scene cause HOOOO lorddd this makes me want caleb more than ever. thank you @tbaluver for helping me write this & happy reading everyone!! ᡣ𐭩

your phone buzzed in your trembling hands, and when you saw caleb’s name flash across the screen, your heart clenched. you wiped your tear-streaked face quickly, taking a deep breath before answering the video call.

“hey pipsqueak.” his voice was warm, familiar but his sharp eyes immediately narrowed. “what’s wrong?”

you forced a smile, shaking your head. “nothing, i’m fine.”

caleb tilted his head, his expression softening but showing a bit of his possessiveness. “oh no no no, don’t lie to me. i can see it all over your face.” his voice was firm but gentle, a thread of concern weaving through it.

your resolve cracked, and a fresh wave of tears welled in your eyes. “he cheated on me, caleb,” you whispered, voice breaking. “i feel so...so stupid.”

his jaw clenched, and his nostrils flared. the muscles in his neck tensed, his grip on the phone tightening. "who?"

you hesitated, but when you said your ex’s name, caleb’s eyes darkened. “...i’m on my way back to linkon,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“caleb, you don’t have to-”

“don’t.” his voice cut through your protest. “i'm almost there, just stay put.”

you knew better than to argue when he got like this, so you nodded, biting your lip as he gave you one last lingering look before ending the call.

it wasn’t long before a knock sounded at your door. when you opened it, caleb stood there, his casual clothing slightly disheveled, his knuckles bruised and raw.

your eyes widened. “caleb…”. you grabbed onto to his hands.

he shrugged, gazing down at you before. “had to teach that asshole a lesson.” wanting him to calm down, you led him to the couch.

your heart ached, but you couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips. you looked at him before speaking, “but you.. you didn’t have to.”

he reached out, wiping away the stray tear lingering on your cheek. “yeah.. i did.” his voice softened. “no one gets to mess with you and get away with it.”

you sighed, leaning into his touch. but your chest felt tight, you didn’t know why, but somehow, you found yourself sitting on his lap, his hands found your waist, his touch gentle but firm, grounding you in the moment. “what am i gonna do without you?” you chuckled softly.

caleb smirked, caressing your cheek. “lucky for you, you’ll never have to find out.”

caleb’s eyes softened as his hand rested on your cheek, but even as his gaze held yours, there was a storm behind his violet eyes, something darker. his lips parted like he was about to say something, but he didn’t. the silence between you two was becoming unbearable.

then his hand gripped your face, pulling you closer, his lips crashing against yours with a fierce, desperate energy that sent you spiraling. it wasn’t gentle but of a hungry, needy, force that demanded attention. as his kiss deepened, you could feel the tension running through him and slowly through you, neither of you fully able to control the emotions swirling inside.

as the kiss deepened, the world around you disappeared but only the feel of caleb’s lips, his warmth, his touch. his hands were everywhere, your waist, your back, pulling you closer, as if he couldn’t get close enough. the two of you were practically moaning in each others mouths, every second felt like it wasn’t enough. the heat between you both was unbearable, and with each kiss, each caress, it felt like everything that had been unspoken was finally free.

but then, you couldn’t take it anymore. you pulled away, your chest heaving with the intensity of the kiss with your heart racing like it might explode. you stared at caleb, trying to catch your breath, feeling his body still pressed against yours, the distance between you barely existent. you didn’t want to stop, didn’t want to face the reality of pulling back, but your feelings were conflicted.

you bit your lip, your gaze flicking to the side as you gasped for air. “caleb, i can’t... this is too much, i—”

before you could finish, caleb’s hands grab onto yours, he presses his forehead onto your knuckles before looking right back up into your eyes. his eyes were dark, full of raw need, and his jaw clenched tightly. “no. don’t you dare do that.”

his voice was rough. “you can’t pull away from me now. not when i’ve been wanting this for so long.” the words came out like a confession, as though the weight of everything he’d been holding back had finally come crashing to the surface. his gaze softened, but the longing was undeniable. “i’ve been waiting for this, waiting for you...”

“please,” he whispered, his voice thick with desire, almost like a prayer. “don’t push me away when i finally have you here. don’t make me wait any longer.”

you didn’t know what to say. his words wrapped around you like a chain, pulling you back toward him. no man could ever long for you the way the man in front of you did. your pulse raced and before you can even mutter a reply, caleb closed the distance, capturing your lips again in a kiss that felt like a promise.

his hands roamed again, desperate to keep you close, to feel you against him, like he needed to anchor himself to something real. the way he kissed ignited a fire in you. it couldn't be helped when you started rolling your hips forward just to gain a little bit more of him. you started to feel him harden against you, making the friction unbearable to keep your moans intact. you could tell he was enjoying you by the way his hands clutched desperately on your back, with nails digging in as he pulls you even closer. his kisses grew more frantic, little whines and gasps escaping him between each one. he would so often lift his hips eagerly to meet with every roll you had to offer him, bitten off whines leave his lips as you continue to grind your clothes cunt onto his clothed cunt.

caleb's breath hitched as your lips suddenly trailed along his neck. his hands tangled in your hair, holding you close as you nipped and sucked at his sensitive skin. a low groan rumbled in his chest, vibrating against your lips.

"god, i've dreamed of this," he murmured, voice husky with desire. his hips bucked up against yours, seeking more friction. "dreamed of you, like this, for so long." he continued. 

caleb's voice grew increasingly desperate, his words punctuated by ragged breaths. "please," he begged, his fingers digging into your hips. "i need you. i need all of you." his eyes were wild, pupils blown wide with lust and longing. "touch me, taste me, anything” he kisses your knuckles. “just don't stop."

"i've waited so long," he whimpered, burying his face in your neck. his lips brushed your ear as he whispered, "make me yours. please, i'm begging you."

caleb's usual composure had crumbled completely, leaving him trembling and needy beneath you. his hands roamed your body restlessly, as if he couldn't decide where to touch first. "can i..we.." he murmurs, gesturing towards your skirt.

you nod, you can feel your cheeks heat up. your tone softens, "caleb, i have always been yours as you have been mine." you give him a smile. with trembling hands, he fumbles with his belt buckle. he finally managed to undo his pants, freeing his erection. the tip was already gleaming with pre-cum. with one swift motion, he lifted up your skirt and pulled your panties to the side, not wanting to waste a single second now. he softly guided you, leaving your soaked pussy to run through his tip. you start to slide down on him, taking him inch by inch. you both cried out at the sudden, intense sensation. caleb's head fell back, his mouth open in a silent moan as he savored the feeling of finally being inside you.

"p-pipsqueak.." his raspy voice fills the air as you began to ride him, letting his cock explore you as he whines with every hip roll.

"don't.. don't stop" he whimpers, his cheeks slightly flushes. you were moving at a slow, sensual rhythm that had him gasping for breaths. his hands continue to roam your body as you continued.

"use me however you want.." he whispers, his hands cup your clothed breasts. "don't stop using me till you're.. satisfied ngh.." he places his hands back on your hips, helping you bounce on him.

"caleb.. you feel so..so good.." you moaned in reply. your rolls had him hit your sweet spot and now you were almost at your high. your sounds seemed to ignite something primal in caleb. his grip on your hips tightened as he began to thrust up into you with renewed vigor. the room filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin, punctuated by your shared moans and gasps.

"and you.. ngh.. are so perfect," caleb groaned, his voice strained with pleasure. "so tight,.. so wet for me." he leaned forward, capturing your neck in his mouth, gently biting bite. the sensation sent shocks of pleasure through your body, making you clench around him.

you tangled your fingers in his hair, tugging gently as you rode him harder. "caleb, i'm.. so close," you panted, feeling the tension building in you.

his eyes locked onto yours, cheeks still flushed. "that's it.. princess.. please..please come for me... huu.. please let me feel you.."

his words, combined with the exquisite friction of his cock inside you, pushed you over the edge. you cried out, your body shakes as you rode your high on him.

"you're stunning.." caleb says adoringly as he watched you crumpled on him. "ngh.. im going to cum.. let me cum," you loved this new side of him. "cum inside me.." with a final, powerful thrust, he buried himself deep within you, his cock pulsing as he came. it sent you over the edge as you felt his seed warming inside you. both of your breathing were in synced, breathless as time seemed to go normal again. the air between you was thick with warmth, your bodies still tangled together, caleb didn't want to pull himself out of you yet. he wanted to cherish this moment. caleb’s hands, once gripping you with desperation, had softened, his fingers now tracing slow patterns along your back.

you let out a shaky exhale, pressing your forehead against his, your fingers still curled into the fabric of his shirt like you weren’t ready to let go. caleb’s hands slid up to cup your face, his thumbs brushing gently over your cheekbones.

“you okay?” his voice was lower now, softer, laced with something tender. he searched your face, his gaze lingering, waiting for any sign of hesitation.

you chuckled, nodding as you leaned into his touch. “i should be asking you that,” you whispered, teasingly. “that was a different caleb i saw back there.”

caleb chuckled under his breath, a small, breathy sound that sent warmth curling in your chest. “yeah,” he echoed, a hint of something affectionate in his tone. his fingers tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering, like he wasn’t ready to stop touching you yet. "but, it couldn't be helped.. when i'm with you." he continues.

caleb shifted, adjusting so you were nestled against his chest, his arms wrapping around you with a quiet protectiveness. his heartbeat was steady beneath your ear, a rhythm that soothed you.

you sighed, melting into him as his warmth surrounded you, his steady heartbeat lulling you into a sense of calm. his fingers trailed absentmindedly along your back, tracing slow, soothing patterns, as if he needed to reassure himself that you were still here, still in his arms.

“you make me crazy, you know that?” caleb murmured after a moment, his lips brushing against the top of your head. his voice was softer now. “i don’t think i��ve ever wanted something this much.”

your fingers tightened slightly around his shirt, and you tilted your head up to meet his gaze. caleb’s eyes softened, and without thinking, he leaned down, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your forehead. it wasn’t desperate or rushed like before, just warm, grounding, like he was trying to memorize every second of this moment.

“are you tired?” he asked, smirking a little. his fingers now tracing idle circles against your arm.

you hummed in response, your eyelids growing heavier. “a little.”

knowing you didn't run away from his confession, he pulled himself out of you and adjusted yours and his clothing as if nothing happened. he shifted slightly, just enough to lean you against him, making sure you were comfortable. “i’ve got you,” he murmured, his voice quiet, protective. “just rest, okay? i’ll be right here.”

you smiled against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, feeling the way his arms held you like he never wanted to let go. you had totally forgotten about your ex. the world didn't even matter to you at all, not right now, not when you had this.

and as sleep pulled you under, you heard caleb murmur one last thing against your hair, barely heard but filled with devotion.

“i'll always be by your side.”

[pathologicalreid]

all the debts i owe | s.r.

in which Spencer takes your kids into account when deciding whether or not he should take a plea deal, and it doesn't go the way you expect

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst content warnings: prison reid, takes place during 12x14 "collision course", i love my little reid family so much word count: 1.29k a/n: caamp song fic caamp song fic caamp song fic everyone cheered!!!!

Somehow, you felt like you were invading a conversation that you shouldn’t be a part of. Emily and Spencer knew this world much better than you did, and you were nothing more than a fly on the wall, grateful to be in close proximity to your husband after a few days of him being in jail.

You’d stopped by yesterday, dropping off a bag of his belongings and leaving them with Emily. You had wanted to see him then, if for nothing more than a confirmation that he was still breathing, but he was finally getting some sleep. The comfort of knowing that he had Emily watching over him had to be enough.

Spencer wasn’t allowed to keep his wedding band on. It was something that the jail was going to hold on to, but Emily had intervened and arranged for you to keep it.

The gold band weighed heavy against your chest, suspended by a chain around your neck for safe keeping, you kept it tucked into the collar of your sweater while you watched Spencer and Emily talk. “Please, just think about it,” Emily pleaded with him. “Think about the evidence.”

“I know,” Spencer assured her. “Scratch dots his Is and crosses his Ts. We know that,” he responded, brown eyes flickering over to yours for just a moment.

Leaning heavily against the wall for support, Emily shook her head, “But a jury won’t. A jury will only see what Scratch wants them to see.”

You shifted on your chair, resting your elbows on the table and propping your head in your hands. “You think they’ll convict me?” Spencer asked, a string of hurt threaded through his voice as if the thought of a jury of his peers thinking he was a killer caused him physical pain.

“I don’t know,” Emily answered, her voice barely above a whisper, “But if they do. Five years—that’s doable. You are young. You can have a life after that.” You were grateful for Emily; it seemed like she was doing the begging that you didn’t have the energy for.

“Not as an FBI agent,” Spencer rebutted, “I’d be a convicted felon.”

Her face softened as you watched, “Yes,” she acquiesced, “but you’d be free.”

At the first sign of tears in Spencer’s eyes, you felt water lining your own, “The FBI is my home. It’s where I belong.”

Emily looked at you for help, but you couldn’t get yourself to speak. You understood Spencer in a way few people ever could, the idea of him not being a part of the BAU made your chest ache as much as it did his. “You don’t belong in prison, and if you play Russian roulette with this… twenty-five years. That is a lifetime.”

Your husband lifts his chin in a display of false confidence, “If Scratch is framing me, you guys will get him. I know you will.”

“Yes, we will. I promise you we will never give up, and we will exonerate you.” Familiar silver started to line Emily’s eyes as well, “But what if we can’t do that this week? Or this year? Or this… decade? Because I know we can’t do it before your arraignment.”

Spencer turned to look at you, fully facing you for the first time since you arrived at the conference room this morning. “Thirty, twenty-seven, and twenty-five.”

Emily shook her head, confused. “What? What is that?” Her dark brows were knit together, looking between the two of you as she waited for an explanation.

You faced the two of them, wiping your sweaty palms across your jeans, “That’s how old our kids would be when he gets released.”

“They won’t even know who I am,” he said miserably, looking up at the ceiling to stop tears from gathering in his eyes.

Standing up from the chair, you stepped over to him, taking your rightful place at his side. “You could take the new deal, Spence,” you reminded him. “Five to ten—”

“I need to see them grow up,” he pleaded, brown eyes boring into you as he begged you to understand. Spencer always accounted for every possible outcome. Despite the haze of the past few days, you were sure that he knew what he was getting himself into.

You nodded up at him, taking one of his hands in yours before glancing over at Emily, “Can you give us a minute?”

Prentiss sighed and gave the both of you an understanding look before she slipped out of the room. “I need to see them grow up,” he repeated himself, dragging his free hand down his face while you squeezed his hand comfortingly.

“I know,” you whispered, “but with the deal… five years.”

“Or ten,” he countered. “Ten years… Nell would be in high school.”

Your stomach flipped at the idea, your oldest baby in high school, and just like that, you understood Spencer’s decision. You’d be there, outside in the world with your kids for those five to ten years; you’d see all of the in-between. Spencer would miss everything, learning about his own children through phone calls and letters, he’d play a passive role in their lives. If there was even the slightest chance that he would plead not guilty and win, then this whole nightmare would be over. “You have to fight,” you said, announcing the conclusion that he had already come to.

He nodded in confirmation, “Angel,” he whispered, “I don’t want you to come to the arraignment.”

Your breathing hitched, “What?”

“I want you to be with the kids. You’re the only parent they’ll have for who knows how long,” he explained himself.

You hadn’t worked out what you were going to tell the kids. They were too young to understand. Finn was barely out of the newborn phase, Livvy’s vocabulary was expanding every day, and Nell… Spencer was Nell’s best friend. Steeling your expression, you nodded once, “Okay, I won’t go.”

His lips parted and closed like he wanted to say something but stopped himself, you squeezed his hand in an attempt to be encouraging. “Just in case things don’t go the way we want… don’t wait for me.”

You dropped his hand, shaking your head in horror. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing from him, without a second thought, you reached into your shirt and pulled his wedding band out, leaving it on the chain, “For better or for worse, Spencer.”

“This is far worse than anything we could have ever thought of,” he continued, trying to give you an out. You could leave and he wouldn’t fault you, but you’d fault yourself.

Instead, you waved away his offer, “It would be an honor to wait for you. If that’s what it takes for me to see you again.”

He kissed you. Ducking his head until his lips met yours, there was nothing chaste about it. You both knew it was the last kiss, and it had to be good enough to last a lifetime. It was like nothing you’d ever experienced before, fueled purely by emotion; you kissed him like you’d never see him again. You gripped the collar of his sweater to discourage him from pulling away, and you tried to memorize the feeling of his hands on your waist.

A hollow feeling filled your chest when he pulled away, “I love you,” you breathed.

He nodded, resting his forehead against yours, “I love you too.” He pressed another small kiss to your lips, “I’ll make this up to you.”

You let yourself be pulled into his embrace, burying your face in his chest. You held onto him because this moment couldn’t last forever, but you’d be damned if you weren’t going to drag it out.