#I love giving these two a little “spotlight” time as well

[izayoichan]

Just the two of us. 🎶 (poses by @simmireen they will be coming out soon-ish!)

[ozzgin]

Yandere! Circus

I've been wanting to draw some of my dolls for the longest time and this turned out to be my most detailed artwork so far :') And since I really love the circus, I thought I could turn this into an interactive story, too. Let me know what you think! Based on classic stock characters from Italian theatre, Commedia dell'arte. Content: gender neutral reader, horror, dark comedy, human and monster romance

You're finally here! Come on in, don't be afraid. Where is everyone else, you ask? Why, you're our only special guest, Darling (Y/N). This is all for you. Come, do not upset the Ringmaster. We will show you everything.

A night carnival? You've never heard of such a thing. Nonetheless, curiosity got the better of you when you found the trampled poster on your way back home. The actual message almost escaped your attention; you'd been too focused on the thick, ornate border, and the colorful, swirling patterns intricately filling the page.

"Last night in town! 'Wizard of Ozz' Night Circus, a mesmerizing show that will keep you glued to your seat. We're still searching for our Columbina. Perhaps you could become part of our story?"

Might as well check it out. Which is why you're currently here, in the outskirts, trying to find a walkable path among the weeds. It's dark and you can barely see anything in front of you. They're not trying very hard to provide an inviting atmosphere, you think to yourself.

Eventually, you discern a glimmer of light in the distance. You have found the circus tents.

The campsite is quiet and still, causing you to hesitate in your decision. Is it truly open?

There's a faint murmur coming from the main entrance. A small, melancholic Pierrot - when did he show up? - awaits by the heavy curtain, pale hands stretched out.

"Your ticket, Columbina", he announces with decorum. "Me and Arlecchino will show you any tent you want to visit. We are here to entertain you."

He ponders for a moment, before adding:

"I'm sure you'll like him more. He's a very alluring fellow. Me, on the other hand...Oh, forget it", he mumbles through pouting lips, ushering you inside.

"Aha! There's the star of our night! Our Columbina!"

A tall man in a pompous, glittery costume bounces towards you and lowers himself with a theatrical bow, giving your fingers a quick kiss. You pull your hand away, visibly bothered by the odd gesture.

"You keep calling me that. I'm (Y/N)", you argue.

"Yes, yes, of course we know that. Do ya take us for fools?" the Harlequin asks, kicking one foot in the air. The jingle of the bells at the tip of his shoe echoes across the hall. "You have, however - you must understand, yes? - you've entered Ringmaster's Circus. From now on, you are the Columbina to our play."

You raise your eyebrows in disbelief.

"Just like that? Why me, and not someone else?" you scan the surroundings, pursing your lips. "Where are the others?"

"Others?"

Harlequin makes an exaggeratedly shocked face and tilts his head towards Pierrot.

"What are they saying? You're the only one here, Columbina darling. After tonight, we-"

Pierrot's hand lands firmly on his friend's lips.

"You always talk too much. Always, always! And yet, you're the favorite. Of course you are. Oh, what pity, what misfortune", the pale young man laments. "We're wasting precious time."

They both burst into a little dance; a rather silly one, you think with an amused smile. Then, they place themselves besides the entrance, each one standing at one end, back straight and chins raised.

"Go on, go ahead, Columbina darling. This is your carnival. Choose any tent you'd like."

Pulcinella's Tent

The stage is pitch black, save for one spotlight contouring a patch of ground. You can see a large, colorful ball, and two feet clumsily rolling their way atop of it.

You chuckle at the sight. This must be the clown.

"No one can compete with Pulcinella's juggling", Pierrot declares somewhat monotonously. "His acrobatic spectacle has left many guests speechless, acting with such dexterity that one must wonder: is this truly the work of two hands?"

Lights flicker, allowing you to catch glimpses of smaller balls being thrown around. Juggling so many balls while bouncing around is indeed impressive.

"Rest assured, this is the art of one single man. Although four eyes are better than two."

The shadows are abruptly swallowed by spotlights, and you squint your eyes, adjusting to the brightness. A two-headed man continues his performance, throwing you the occasional cheeky smile.

"Ah, that is..." you place a hand over your mouth.

"A bother, truly", the Pierrot remarks, sitting next to you. "They're complete opposites."

He observes as both Pulcinella's heads tilt in your direction, visibly entranced. He sighs deeply:

"You'll love them either way. They're funny and entertaining, unlike me...A pathetic miser. Oh, if only I had half their charm!" he bemoans with a soft sob.

"Hey! Don't sadden my beloved like that", Pulcinella barks, jumping off the ball and running towards your seating with a comically merry jingle to accompany him.

You cannot help but marvel at the man in front of you.

"Enough of this, I've had enough! You don't get to decide yet, Pulcinella", Pierrot exclaims in sudden panic. He claws your wrist tightly and pulls you after him. "It's time to see other tents."

Sandrone's Tent

You peek behind the heavy curtain and freeze. Are your eyes deceiving you? Someone is idly resting at the bottom of a large aquarium, showing no struggle despite being underwater. The mysterious man senses your presence and emerges to the surface.

"Would you look at that! I can't remember the last time I had a visitor."

He gestures for you to come closer.

"Are you the new guest? Our Columbina?"

"I don't know what you're talking about", you speak up with hesitation, eyes glued to the scaly tail that seems eerily genuine. "I think I'll be leaving now."

"Leaving? Didn't the Ringmaster already tell you?" The merman claps his hands, amused. "You're naïve, I like that a lot. Perhaps this time I'll be the one to have you."

He abruptly grabs your wrist, and you jolt at the feeling. His hands are ice-cold and moist.

"Let me have a look at you, won't you? I'll help you hide from the others if you're good and listen to me."

You feel a pair of hands sinking into your shoulders, and you're ripped away from the merman. Harlequin's voice rumbles deeply across the room.

"You're being a fox again, aren't you, Sandrone? Hands off our guest! You don't get to pick yet", he scolds in a low growl. "Ringmaster won't be happy about it."

"Go on then, tell on me! Ringmaster's good boy, eh?" the dark-skinned man smirks mockingly and slams his tail against the glass. "Put a collar on that one, Columbina. See how well he barks", he snarls, then slides back underwater and promptly vanishes.

Harlequin's grip on your shoulders becomes tighter for a brief moment. You can tell he's tense.

"Let's get you out of here. Don't listen to a word he says, Columbina darling. He lies, you see? No one trusts him. You should rely on me."

Pantalone's Tent

You gawk at the impressive height of this tent, head nearly spinning from tilting yourself all the way back. Ah, this must be the trapeze artist. Indeed, one of the two handles is dangling above you, and it occurs to you there's no safety net. A tall, lean man swiftly pounces across, reaching for the trapeze. His movements are slow, yet calculated, and you can't help but wonder if he might actually be flying instead.

Upon closer inspection, it appears he has no arms.

"Madness", you find yourself shouting. "Stop this nonsense!"

He gracefully wraps his legs around the bar, swinging back and forth with a confident smile.

"You doubt me, Pantalone himself?"

With another thrust, he lets himself go, spiraling down against your terrified protests. His heeled shoes clack against the hard tile. Lastly, he stretches out his bandaged stumps, as if signaling his successful landing.

You find yourself bowing to the grand gesture.

"Yes, yes, it's rather impressive, isn't it?" Pierrot follows behind you in his usual dull tone. "Pantalone is our master acrobat."

He lifts his gaze and notices that the man didn't bother waiting for a full introduction; he's already standing before you with a flirty grin.

"...and a charmer, I suppose. What, you're already doing your tricks?"

The sallow clown squeezes himself behind you two protectively.

"Shoo, shoo! Columbina is merely visiting."

He lightly pushes you away, towards the exit. You throw one final glance at the mysterious individual; he waves with his residual limb, and winks.

"You know where to find me, love."

Il Capitano's Tent

You feel a radiant heat coming from this tent. In the middle of the ring stands a grand cage. An animal of sorts? You keep your distance, observing from the benches.

A monstrous giant stumbles within your view with heavy steps. A thick, scaly tail rattles the bars of the cage, swinging itself with the precision of a bullwhip.

"Il Capitano himself!" the Harelquin announces theatrically, bending his arms in the direction of the blue beast. "The strongman, the fire-spitting artist, a most devilish creature captured and chained by our Ringmaster."

"Is this one mine?" the monstrous man pins you down with a predatory gaze.

"Perhaps", Harlequin spits out bitterly. "They decide, not you."

You squirm in your seat, suddenly much smaller under his intense stare. The charismatic guide's smile falters for a brief second, replaced by an envious grimace.

Il Capitano inhales deeply, expanding his torso and contracting his muscles. His fanged mouth then unhinges, releasing a great flame which spreads all the way to you. You're almost tempted to reach towards it, feeling the sting with your very fingers.

"Amazing", you mumble, still mesmerized by the spectacle.

This was no cheap trickery. Capitano is truly a one-of-a-kind artist. No human could replicate such a feat.

The beastly creature holds onto the bars of his cage, shoving his snout outside and grinning. Puffs of smoke escape between his teeth.

"Come down here and I can do even more, little one."

Harlequin gasps and gestures for you to stand up.

"Outrageous! How dare you-!"

He urges you to follow him outside. Enough monstrous sights for now.

"Shall we head towards the other tents, darling?"

Harlequin walks ahead, deep in contemplation. Pierrot scurries after him, whispering the remaining choices. Your shoulders are heavy, and you're quite tired from the eventful night.

You notice a little opening between the lavish curtain folds and decide to sneak away. They needn't know about your departure. You stumble around dark halls, following the cool breeze of the outside, until you're met with the starry sky.

Your path is blocked by two large poles, so you step to the right. Your body freezes in terror when they move with you. Slowly, you raise your head and follow the black shapes, and realize they're legs.

Far, far above ground, towering over the entire circus, you see two glowing eyes.

It's the Ringmaster.

"Bad, bad Columbina", he reproaches.

The voice is off, like an old, broken record reverberating against your eardrums. A cold shiver runs across your spine.

"I'm sorry", you blurt out in fear.

A long, bony hand appears before you, twitching with a loud pop. You wrap your hands around a finger, desperate to not anger this unholy creation.

"Let's take you to your caravan. We're leaving tomorrow."

Oh, God. What have you done?

Now, now, don't fret. There's nothing to be afraid of. Come, put that frown aside. Everyone loves you here. After all, you're their most precious Columbina. What's a Circus without its treasure?

[art]

Creator Spotlight: @mimimar

Hi! I’m Michelle (Mimimar), an illustrator born and raised in Venezuela, currently based in Italy. I enjoy making colorful illustrations that reflect the things I love: fairy tales, fantasy, tenderness and queer (especially sapphic) stories. Occasionally, I also make paper dolls, comics and animatics. I have a lot of interest in book illustration and I’m currently developing my own stories that I hope to share as an author-illustrator someday!

Check out our interview with Michelle below!

Did you originally have a background in art? If not, how did you start?

I always enjoyed drawing when I was a kid, but it only became a hobby that I did almost every day when I was around 11. At first I only used traditional mediums, but I decided to make a serious effort to learn how to draw digitally when I was 15, and once I got the hang of it I never stopped!

I didn’t go to art school so all of my learning was done through studying the tutorials and resources that other artists generously share on the internet and lots of practice / trial and error.

How do you want to evolve as a creator?

I want to do many things but what I want to do the most right now is work on books! I want to make art for other authors’ stories and also my own stories as an author-illustrator. I want to grow as a storyteller and create art and stories that will really resonate with people emotionally. I’m always striving to improve my skills as well.

I also really love dolls, so working on doll box art or as a doll designer is something I would love to do someday. I actually have been designing paper dolls on my Patreon for the past few months, it’s been a fun project that is still ongoing right now!

What is one habit you find yourself doing a lot as an artist?

Probably using a lot of purple! It’s my favorite color so I find myself using it a lot. If I can find a way to sneak a little bit of purple into an illustration or a character design then I will.

Congratulations on finishing your Ivy Comic! Did the outcome turn out like how you expected or were there some unexpected bumps along the way?

Thank you! It’s a project that I worked on very slowly in between other art because I wanted to really take my time with every spread and make each of them a fully detailed illustration. I thumbnailed the full comic before starting but I kept changing the sketch for the final spread until the very end! Overall I’m really proud of the end result. I sprinkled a lot of hidden details in every page that I hope some of the readers will notice. For example: the meanings of the flowers in each page represent what the characters are feeling in that moment, and the colors of their wardrobe become gradually lighter as the story progresses to represent their emotions, as well as the changing of seasons.

We’ve noticed that you have created some amazing cover art for TGCF. Is there another series you would like to do something similar with? 

That was another passion project that took some time to complete. Initially, I didn’t intend for them to be specifically covers, it was just a series of illustrations based on the 5 books/main arcs of TGCF. But since they were well-received and I had people telling me they wish they could use them as covers for their books, I decided to rework them into dust jackets for the english translation of TGCF!

I haven’t thought of any other specific series but I love doing cover art so maybe I’ll do something similar again in the future!

What’s your favorite part of your style? Why?

I’ve heard from other people that there’s a delicate quality to my art, this is something that I like a lot! I like pretty things, fairytales and vibrant colors. I think all of these things probably reflect in the art I make as well.

If there is one thing you want your audience to remember about your work, what would it be?

I hope that they remember how it made them feel. Feelings and colors are the two things I give priority to in my work. Most of the time I like depicting tenderness, softness and emotional intimacy. If that could reach the viewer and stay with them it would make me very happy. 

I make a lot of art with queer (mainly sapphic) themes because they’re the kind of stories I personally like and want to see more of, so whenever people tell me that my art has helped them in their journey to discover and accept themselves, or that they see themselves and their partner in my art, it is always extremely meaningful to me. When art that I made to give myself comfort can provide comfort for others, no matter how small, it reminds me once again that despite any hardships art is genuinely worth pursuing.

Who on Tumblr inspires you and why?

So many artists! To name a few:  I love @sakizo’s amazing eye for fashion and detail,  @paneeps’ gorgeous style and striking colors,  the sweetness of @bevsi’s art,  @vickisigh’s pretty colors and concepts,  @idledee’s warm and heartfelt art,  @littlestpersimmon’s dreamy wonderful art,  and @loish has been an inspiration for as long as I can remember.

Thank you so much for stopping by and sharing, Michelle! Be sure to check out their Tumblr blog over at @mimimar.

[fictionalsweethearts]

THE COMMISSION PT. 2 | SEVIKA X READER | ARCANE

You can find part one here.

Synopsis: You've been her personal mechanic for two years, but your growing reputation in the field has earned you dozens of clients and commissions. Sevika was looking for something fresh, durable and of good quality, and when it came to her sexual appetite, she only accepted the best. So she turned to you for a special commission.

Contains: arcane!sevika, feminine reader, lesbians, lots of dialogues, arcane universe, cannon sevika, mechanic!reader, wlw, slow burn baby 💋, several parts btw

Word count: 2,330

Note: English is not my first language, so I apologize in advance for any mistake in my writing. Enjoy!

Sevika trusted your good work but your integrity mattered to her as well. The intimidating facade, her bearing and her gaze made her look lethal, but the truth was that Sevika protected the people she cared about and was extremely loyal. After years working for Silco and cleaning up Jinx's messes, Sevika had developed a special fondness for you and your good humor, as well as your eyes and your easy smile. She wanted to protect you for this commission as well.

A couple of days after the meeting, you were outside The Last Drop, waiting for Sevika while smoking a cigarette. "What did I get myself into." you whispered, exhaling before stepping on the butt with your heel, watching the woman approach from the distance. Next to her was one of her lackeys and another man you didn't know, a tall, dark-haired man with slanted eyes, veiny hands and good-looking, presumably a worker at the House of Pleasure. The candidate.

She gestured for the man next to her to approach and spoke up. "I want you to meet my friend, Silas." Sevika said, her voice a little gruff. "He's here to... provide for your mold-taking."

Gosh, this so embarrassing you thought, giving Silas a nod. "Nice to meet you, I assume Sevika explained you the uh... reason you're here."

Silas nodded, still smirking. "She did." He replied, his eyes roaming over you. "And it's a pleasure, lovely."

"Huh, sure." you mumbled, as Sevika made her way into the Last Drop, towards her personal room. The place was set up. Sevika took care of your requests and had a powerful spotlight installed in the center of the room, next to a backless chair and a work table, where the materials to make the mold were spread out and ready to be used. Sevika sat on the couch, lighting a cigarette while Silas undressed from the waist down. You focused on preparing the mixture, ignoring the blush on your cheeks at the rather peculiar and embarrassing situation you found yourself in.

"Robin asked about you." Silas said to Sevika. "You haven't visited her in a while..."

"Yeah, I've been busy." She replied gruffly. "With... business and such."

"You sure you haven't found another girl?" asked Silas. "It's quite odd to not see you around the brothel."

"I've been..." She paused, her gaze shifting briefly between you and the supplies on the table. "...busy. I don't have time for that right now." The truth was that, recently, her visits to the brothels of Zaun had decreased. The reason was sitting not ten feet away from her.

You gulped. "Please stand in front of the spotlight, legs apart." you said somewhat shyly, to which Silas complied with a rather pleasant and welcomed confidence. He certainly wasn't embarrassed, but you were. "Oh, I'm sorry to be so blunt but... you must be..."

"Hard?" Silas asked, to which you nodded.

Sevika chuckled, watching the interaction. She was amused by your attempts to be professional, trying your best to handle this with grace despite your embarrassment. "Don't apologize." He said, a hint of amusement in his voice. "It's a reasonable request."

You looked at Sevika with pink cheeks, before she turned to Silas in a non-serious tone. "Do you need magazines or something for the imagination, Silas?" she asked.

Silas chuckled, his eyes moving between Sevika and you. "No, I think I'll be alright." he said "But I wouldn't mind a little assistance..." He added, his eyes slowly roving over you, a smirk on his face.

Sevika's gaze was firm as she looked up at Silas, her voice cold. "Hands off, or I'll cut them off."

Sevika handed him the pills and a bottle of water. It only took a couple of minutes for Silas to be rock hard after taking them. Not that you found him appealing, but the man’s sexual aura stirred something inside you. However, you were here to work and Sevika would certainly disapprove of anyone putting their hands on you or you putting your hands on someone else. Sevika watched the whole process, focusing on the gentleness of your hands, the way you immersed the candidate's phallus in a container with the hypoallergenic plaster and the shy smile that were drawn on your lips while you took the time for it to harden. She thought about the privilege Silas was receiving, to have your complete and undivided attention on his body and to be touched by such angelic hands. Sevika grunted, pouring herself a whiskey.

"And... done." you said after the time passed. You removed the now hardened mold, satisfied with the result. You carefully placed it on the table, while Silas got dressed.

"I know I have a good cock, but I never thought I was worthy of being turned into a mold," the man joked.

Sevika chuckled, taking another puff of her cigarette. "Don't flatter yourself, sweetcheeks. We just needed someone qualified."

"Whatever you say, boss." He replied, his gaze shifting to you. "How long will it take for the final product?"

"Four to six days," you replied. "The material I'll be using is quite sensitive and capricious, plus incorporating the Shimmer system will take a couple of failed experiments," you explained, to which Silas laughed.

"Shimmer?" he asked, looking at Sevika. "You're planning on making a fucking Shimmer strap?"

Sevika leaned back, her expression cool. "Problem?"

"No, no problem. I'm just... curious. You never fail to surprise me, you know that?"

Silas gave her hand a squeeze. "I'm leaving now. Good luck with your little toy," Silas said, giving you a warm smile. You were focused on the mold when you and Sevika ended up alone in the room.

"You handled that well." She commented, her voice low and gruff.

"You think so?"

"Yeah, I do." She replied, exhaling a plume of smoke. "You managed to keep your focus and didn't let that hothead get to you."

“I know my job and what it’s worth,” you assured as you poured the second mixture into the cast to make the mold you’d be working with later. You were tired, however, this time of year people usually got their prosthetics renewed and everyone turned to you to do it. You’ve been using Shimmer again to keep the workflow going and it was starting to show.

Her sharp eye was trained to pick up on even the smallest details, and it was clear that you were exhausted. "When was the last time you slept a full night?

"Does it matter?" you inquired, focused on your work

"Of course it matters." She replied, her voice firm. "If you're exhausted, it will affect your work. I need you to be sharp, to be able to keep up."

"When's the last time you slept, really?"

"Mhm... two days ago?" you said, not sure. The truth is that Shimmer affected your perception of time and hunger, it was as effective as cocaine but more accessible, since it was Sevika who provided you with doses at a good price. However, she was regretting having done it, seeing you in this state.

"Are you kidding me? How many boosters have you taken in that time?"

"Don't remember." you shrugged. "I'm overflowed."

Sevika's jaw tensed as she watched your tired, sluggish state. The realization of what you'd been doing to yourself hit her like a ton of bricks. She put the cigarette away, standing up. "You're not going home. You're staying here." She said firmly, her voice leaving no room for argument. "I won't have you passing out from exhaustion."

"Excuse me?"

Her voice took on a softer tone, but her eyes held a hint of command. "I won't negotiate on this. It's for your own good."

"I have more comissions waiting for me at my workshop." you insisted. "And I can't afford to deliver them late."

She leaned forward, her voice dropping lower. "Those orders can wait. Your health cannot. I won't take no for an answer on this, understand?"

“How bold of you,” you scoff. “You’re asking me to rest when you’ve asked me for one of the strangest and most complex commissions this month.”

"And you took the commission, didn't you?" She retorted, her voice cold. "You agreed to it willingly. Don't act like I forced it upon you."

Before you could protest, Sevika's metal hand covered yours and she lowered herself to your level to say, leaving no room for argument: "You will quit work for today, I will get you dinner and you will go to sleep. Do you hear?"

You'd never seen Sevika this protective, this... bossy before. And honestly? It was kind of attractive. Her dominant aura was on full display, and the way she left no room for argument was both intimidating and thrilling.

"I hear," you managed to reply, your voice a breathless whisper.

Twenty minutes later, you popped a piece of turkey into your mouth, Sevika had brought you dinner and a glass of lemonade to go with your meal, as she watched you eat, she poured herself a cup of tea. She had had enough to drink for the day. By the second or third bite, you sensed the sudden comedown and felt nauseous. The shimmer was wearing off and Sevika was quick enough to kick the wastebasket towards you so you could throw up in it.

She moved quickly, resting a hand on your back as you wretched, attempting to provide some form of comfort. "Easy," she said quietly, rubbing slow, soothing circles on your back. "Just get it out."

The Shimmer comedown wasn't pleasant, it felt like all your energy was suddenly drained and replaced by an overwhelming feeling of malaise and despair. Your body was begging for more, and it was precisely that feeling that pushed people to buy more doses until they were in misery, but Sevika wouldn't allow it. Not when it comes to you. "It'll pass," she murmured quietly, her voice a soothing murmur. "Just breathe. It'll pass."

"Another one won't kill me..." you slurred with your head buried into the basket.

"That's where you're wrong," she replied, her voice firm. "It won't stop at just one. It never does. Especially not when you're already in this state."

Sevika straightened you up, handing you a bottle to rinse your mouth out. She then slid the plate over to you. "Eat."

"I don't..."

"I know you don't feel like it." She admitted, her voice softer now, "but you need to eat something. You haven't been taking proper care of yourself, and it shows."

You forced yourself to eat and drink the lemonade. Soon enough you were lying on the soft sofa in the room. Its walls were dark and seemed stained by the passing of time and cigarette smoke, it was lit by lamps in red and mustard tones. In the distance was the betting table, next to you the minibar and in front of you, sitting on a chair, Sevika was watching you. The withdrawal effect had already worn off, now you were just very sleepy.

"Are you feeling any better?"

"I'm... I wanna sleep." you slurred.

She took another puff of her cigarette, tapping the ash into the ashtray beside her. "Close your eyes. Sleep."

You clossed your eyes, the smell of the cigarette entering your nostrils. "You shouldn't smoke that much." you mumbled.

"Oh, really?" She replied, a hint of playful sarcasm in her voice. "And who's gonna stop me?" She took another long puff of her cigarette, the smoke wafting towards you, the scent musky and alluring. "You, perhaps?"

"I don't have any power over you." you admitted.

"No, you don't." She agreed, her expression softening slightly. "But," she mused quietly, her voice barely above a whisper, "sometimes, I wish you did."

You didn't know what to make of that, but you understood that Sevika wasn't joking. You felt a hand on your forehead, Sevika checking if you were feverish or cold, and luckily for you, you were fine. You shifted on the couch, before your curiosity got the better of you. "Silas said you've barely been to the brothel lately..."

"Are you concerned for my wellbeing?" She asked, her voice laced with a hint of sarcasm. "Or are you simply curious?"

"You're a woman of habits and you're missing that one."

"Yes, I suppose I am a woman of habits." She leaned back in her chair, her eyes still fixed on you. "And that one habit in particular... I've been avoiding it."

"Why?"

"It's... not as satisfying as it once was." She replied, her voice quiet, almost lost. "The same faces, the same encounters, the same routines. It's all... so hollow, now. Empty. Meaningless."

Suddenly you felt that the commission you're working on was meaningless. "Then why the hell am I fabricating a strap for you?" you asked with sleepy amusement.

"What do you mean 'why'?" She retorted, her tone sharp. "Because I asked you to, that's why."

"But you're saying you don't like to attend the brothel anymore." you inisisted. "Who will you use it with then?"

"I'll use it with whoever I damn well please," she continued, her tone growing sharper, "and it's none of your business who that is."

You noticed her tone change, she was closing up and it was best not to probe further. Not with Sevika. You simply nodded, closing your eyes against the potent spell of Shimmer's downturn and the days and days of work taking its toll on your body.

You felt her scent close by, a warm hand on your forehead and then tracing circles on your hair. You thought you were dreaming, or it was just the Shimmer messing with your mind, but you felt like you were in some kind of enchantment with those fingers massaging your scalp and the weight of her body next to you on the couch. "Get some sleep," she said quietly, her voice gentle. "I'll be here when you wake up."

To be continued...

taglist: @lez-zuha @amoraeu @nikaachuuuu @furrytaesss @elliecoochieeater @n-noctiss @emmanetalias

[helluvapoison]

jealousy, jealousy

˚✧₊⁎ The Vees ⁎⁺˳✧༚

warnings: violence, off page murdah, suggestive themes, possessive behavior

18+ only

watch out for red flags in real life and read at your own discretion ♡

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

˚✧₊⁎ Vox ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• The least jealous of the three, but that doesn’t say much, does it?

• Running an enterprise goes hand in hand with being an Overlord. Vox prides himself on being everywhere at once but he knows his limits. If wants to keep this cushy life he built, and you safe, he can’t spread himself too thin. That means occasionally cutting back on distractions

• So go out, have your fun— playtoys even! He’s not worried. Vox has literal eyes on you 24/7, access to your phone and all its contents, your lifeline is constantly synced to his peripherals. Really! He’s not worried!

• The problem arises when Vox feels threatened or undermined. If he’s in the same room, no one should even be looking at you! And if some sorry soul dared to touch you!? That’d be the last time they have hands

• “I’ve been looking for you!” He says from behind as his claws creep around your shoulders. He’ll ignore the Sinner, bringing your attention to him as security drags them away. You don’t need to know how jealous he can get

˚✧₊⁎ Velvette ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• Sharing, shockingly, is not in her vocabulary! Not outfits, not credit, not the spotlight and fucking especially not you

• You’re her favorite project, she so lovingly calls you, which is a giant compliment. She dresses you every day so if— for some hellish reason— you left her side, she knows she has a visual claim on you. Vel quickly snaps and posts a pic of the two of you together before you go, just to remind her audience the fact you’re spoken for! Don’t you feel safe? And stylish?

• Unlike her partners, Velvette can multitask so having you around the studio can be an everyday treat! Unfortunately she has to split her focus, occasionally crashing the conversation to a stop so she can snap at someone

• Her eyes are sharp, they pick up on every little detail and seldom miss a thing. No one in her workshop would even think about approaching you, unless Vel asked, so it was all too easy to spot that new-nobody-model break his neck to check you out

• You’ve seen Velvette reduce even the oldest, most thick skinned to a puddle of piss in the street with her words. She doesn’t give anyone the chance to touch what’s hers. She’s shameless and loud, stopping the inappropriate behavior from across the room if she has to, “Oy! You! You’re fuckin’ fired, get the fuck out of here ‘fore I set you on fire!”

• As they run for the elevator, she debates if the clothes they’re wearing are worth keeping or not. With a glowing finger she swipes them off the model anyways, stripping them of her brand… and their dignity

• Velvette marks the occasion with a kiss to your cheek, stained with black lipstick, and another posted picture with a clever caption

˚✧₊⁎ Valentino ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• Val invented jealousy

• He handles it as well as everyone expects

• It’s not limited to you, either! Business partners, employees, friends (if he has any left), play things, he’ll be up and arms about anything that belongs to him. There’s only one way to cut the cord tethered to him, and he’s always the one to decide how and when

• Val may have a lot of toys but you’re not one of them. You’re special— precious, actually!

• He has tabs on you at all times. Tracker in your phone, jewelry with his name on it, a bodyguard if he’s feeling particularly paranoid that day!

• Val also loves showing you off. Love bites are his favorite mark of ownership, he’ll show off wherever is most recent so be prepared to swat his hands away. Everyone can look, but only he can touch. He has four hands, one of them is on you at all times in public

• No one should manage to get in spitting distance of you— but if somehow they did and had the gall to talk to you… he’ll break their nose on the spot. He’d make quicker work with a gun, but then he’d get blood on you and he doesn’t want that

• “You’re so fuckin’ hot tonight, baby, look how clumsy you’ve made this idiot!” Val cackles, poorly masking his rage, “Seriously, I think you’re trying to get me riled up.” You open your mouth to deny it but he laughs again, carefully pulling you closer with both pairs of arms, “I’m only teasing!”

• Looming over you, Val shoots said idiot a murderous glare that gives them a five second head start. He’s yet to lose this game of chase. He always returns, clean as a crappy soap ad, to shower you in gifts in lieu of an apology for disappearing

[azuresaqua]

little gifts

warnings + notes: kinich x reader, fluff, 2,4k words, secret santa submission for @vxnuslogy :) HI VEE !!!! i am your secret santa this year i hope you liked the fic :] tried to incorporate the things you like in this fic so !!! <3

PRESENT TIME

You consider Kinich to be a sentimental person. Why? Because when you accidentally stumble upon a box in your shared closet with the label “from my love” which is filled with things you had gotten him before and while you were dating, everything is in perfect condition. Nothing is broken, dirty, not a speck of dust in sight - as if he’d been secretly taking care of it.

“You’re snooping through my stuff now?” Kinich’s voice echoes through the room, laced with a slight amusement. He walks closer to you, peering inside the box. “Oh, you found it.”

“You kept all this?” you ask, taking out the first item in the box which is a little dragon keychain with a broken handle.

-

FIRST GIFT - DRAGON KEYCHAIN

The first time you ever gave Kinich a gift was during one of your “dates”. It wasn’t really a date, now that you actually think about it. It was way before the two of you started dating and Mualani and Kachina were there with you, so basically it was more of a hangout rather than a date (but Kinich will still think of it as a one).

The four of you had just finished the final exams of your last semester in university (while Kachina had just finished her last exams in high school), and Mualani had suggested to go hang out at a nearby mall to celebrate finally finishing exams. Of course, you and Kachina agreed almost instantly while Kinich had to be dragged by you and Mualani to come along.

“Ah, the mall!” Mualani took in a deep breath of “mall air” as she calls it and placed her hands on her hips, a triumphant smile on her face. “I’m finally back!” she threw her arms open, people passing by staring at her weirdly. “Y/N, tell me, how does it feel to finally be back in the mall after that tortuous week of non-stop studying?” Mualani slung a hand over your shoulder.

“I was back here just a few days ago…” you admitted, Mualani giving you a betrayed look. “I’m sorry! My parents took me out for dinner when they saw how hard I was studying last week.” you gave Mualani an apologetic look and she sighs.

“Okay, I’ll forgive you this time,” Mualani said and then gave you a cheeky smile. “However…” she trails off, changing her cheeky smile into something more… suspicious.

“What do you have in mind?” you asked nervously. Mualani isn’t mean, everyone knows that, but sometimes her plans are extraordinary, to say the least. What you were afraid of was accidentally letting out your secret of having a crush on Kinich. “Don’t be-” you tried whispering in her ear but Mualani suddenly grabbed Kinich’s hand and pulled him closer to you.

“My plan for today is to give each other gifts for finishing our exams!” Mualani exclaimed a little too excitedly. You had your suspicions that she just came up with that idea like five seconds ago, but you had no energy left to argue with her. “I was going to use spin the wheel to choose who gets who, but since someone went to the mall without us knowing,” she gave you a side eye. “I’m pairing you with Kinich!”

“Isn’t this a little unfair?” you complained.

“What’s unfair?” Mualani gave you a wink. “I think it’s a perfect opportunity to show whether or not you know the other person well.”

Kinich, who hadn’t been saying anything for the past ten minutes or so, suddenly spoke up. “That’s fine with me. I think this is a fun event.”

“See?” Mualani said. “Even Kinich doesn’t mind. As a matter of fact, I think you’re the only one who disagrees with this plan of mine.”

You narrowed your eyes, spotting Kachina behind Mualani who was watching this whole ordeal with an amused smile on her face. “Hey! Kachina hasn’t said anything. Wouldn’t it be rude of us just to go along with this if one person hasn’t said anything yet?”

Kachina, thrusted into the spotlight, flushed with embarrassment. “I-I don’t mind, really. I think it’s a fun activity.”

You stared at Kachina with a ‘you betrayed me’ look in your eyes and groaned in defeat. Eventually, after some more discussions, you split up - Kachina with Mualani and you with Kinich.

It was a quiet walk around the mall, you not knowing what to say and because Kinich is… well, Kinich. It’s nerve-wracking, really, being around him alone. You opened your mouth to say something but closed it back again not knowing how to say it.

Kinich might have noticed you getting all nervous because he suddenly spoke up. “Wanna split up? That way we’ll be surprised when we see the items we got.”

“Oh, yeah sure! That’s a good idea,” you replied. “So…”

“I’ll go this way.” Kinich pointed to his left. “We’ll meet back here in 40 minutes?”

“Okay,” you replied and saw Kinich walk away with his hands in his pockets. You let out a shaky breath, lightly slapping yourself on your cheeks to focus. “I can do this. Just get him something he likes.”

Around ten minutes of you walking around five different stores, you felt defeated. There was nothing you could find for Kinich in this mall, heck, you didn’t even know what he liked! He’d never been vocal about anything that piqued his interest, and even if he does find something cool, he fixates on it for a few minutes and then suddenly seems to lose interest.

Then, an idea pops into your head. The few times you’ve been in Kinich’s home (with the others of course), you’ve seen a few dragon stickers on his table and his wardrobe. There are just a few, but you have noticed that maybe Kinich likes anything related to dragons.

Walking into a store that sells many little trinkets, you spotted a cute little dragon keychain. There were a few options on display, but the blue, black, and green dragon keychain caught your eye. It resembled Kinich so well that it’s basically him in dragon form. It was subtle but enough for someone to catch if you were to squint your eyes at his bag.

“Perfect,” you muttered, grabbing it and walking over to the cashier. Walking back to the spot you agreed to rendezvous in, you spotted him already waiting there for you, a bag in his hands and his attention focused on his phone. “Kinich!”

He lifted his head and placed his phone in his pocket. “You sure took your time.”

“Sorry,” you apologized. “It took me a while to choose the perfect gift.”

“It’s okay,” Kinich said. “Mualani said to meet up in this cafe on the second floor.” You nodded and followed him up to the cafe.

Mualani and Kachina were already sitting on the chairs with gift bags on the table. Mualani saw the two of you and waved her arm, signaling you to come over. “Hey! What took you guys so long? We ordered some cheesecake and drinks,” you and Kinich sat down on the sofa side, making yourself comfortable.

“You know me so well, Mualani,” you teased, taking one plate of the cheesecake. “Oh, this is yummy.”

“Right?!” Kachina exclaimed, almost too excitedly. “Best cheesecake I’ve ever tasted.”

Mualani laughed, giving her a pat on her head. “Seems like someone has been missing out on some cheesecakes during her exam period,” Kachina let out an embarrassed laugh. “Well! Since we’re all here, let’s get to the present exchange shall we?”

“Wait- now?” you almost choked on your dessert, “Shouldn’t we finish our food first?”

“Where’s the fun in that? Eating cheesecake while opening our presents is a fun time!” Mualani explained. “Since you complained, you’re going first.”

“Hey-!” you tried to complain, but Kinich handed his gift to you. “You could’ve at least waited for me to finish eating.” You took one more bite out of your cheesecake and exchanged gifts with him.

“You can go first,” Kinich said, urging you to open the present.

You hummed and opened the bag. You gasped when you saw what was inside. Now, Mualani didn’t specify how many gifts you were supposed to buy for the other, but anyone would have thought one was enough. But Kinich had in fact gotten you three gifts.

You took out the first two items which were books, the ones you had been dreaming of buying but didn’t have enough money for. “You got me Franz Kafka’s books?! Kinich, this is too much.”

“I don’t think so,” Kinich replied softly. “You’ve been working so hard these past few weeks for our exams so I think you deserve them.”

You swear you were about to cry from how sweet his words are. Taking out the last gift was what made you cry for real - it was a bracelet, and once again, one you have been wanting to buy for a long time but not enough money to buy it. The pretty pink charms captivated you the moment you laid your eyes on it. Happy tears streamed down your face as you looked up at Kinich. “Isn’t this over your budget?”

“I have been saving my money since I didn’t really have anything I wanted to buy,” Kinich answered, giving you the sweetest smile in the world.

“How did you know I wanted these?” you asked.

“You mentioned it a few times before,” Kinich replied. “During our hangouts and free time. The last time we went to the mall together I remember you walking into the bookstore, staring at those two in particular for a long time.”

“Huh? Wait a minute, when did the two of you go out together?” Mualani asked, wiggling her eyebrows. “I don’t think you’ve ever-” You almost leapt across the table to cover Mualani’s mouth, to prevent her from saying more.

“You and Kachina were busy, and I was bored, so I asked Kinich to hang out with me,” you said, clearing your throat. You grabbed the small bag next to you, suddenly feeling anxious about giving it to him. “I feel bad for only giving you this one item, but I tried my best, I promise.”

Kinich took the bag from your hands and retrieved the little dragon keychain you bought. He stared at it for ten seconds without saying anything, and you thought he was about to say he didn’t like it, but when a smile appeared on his face, you felt relieved. “This is really cute, thank you.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t get you anything else,” you felt embarrassed only getting him so little. “This was the only thing I found that reminded me of you.”

Kinich blinked and you swear you saw the tip of his ears turn red, but you brushed it off, thinking it was just the lighting. “No, I love it, really…”

Mualani suddenly cleared her throat. “Did you two forget we were here or something? Stop flirting in front of us!”

You choked out an embarrassed noise. “We are not flirting!”

“Was too!”

“Was not!”

In the midst of bickering with Mualani it was a shame you didn’t notice how Kinich’s eyes were trained on you the whole time.

-

PRESENT TIME

“Remember the way me and Mualani were arguing on whether or not we were openly flirting in front of her and Kachina?” you giggle. “Pretty sure Kachina couldn’t look us in the eyes for a few days after that.”

Kinich squats down next to you, holding the dragon keychain in his hands. “Yeah, that was really funny to see,” he flips it around, examining it. “It’s a shame we can’t fix the handle. I really loved using it on my bag.”

“We can always get a new one, you know?” you reply. “Besides, I’m pretty sure this was cheap…”

Kinich laughs. “Now that I think about it, our gift exchange was unfair.”

“Stop that! I didn’t know what to get you!” you complain. “Your stupid mysterious aura made it hard to understand you better.”

Shaking his head, Kinich takes out the next item in the box which was a poorly made paper flower.

-

SECOND GIFT - PAPER FLOWER

The first few weeks of going out with Kinich was… awkward, to say the least. Yes, you’d had a major crush on him ever since you started university and had been friends with him since high school, but that didn’t mean you knew how to act around him (especially since you were now his significant other).

When he asked you out on a date - to which you agreed without a second thought - you had this tiny paper flower you had made in art class. It looked… good, but it wasn’t quite beautiful. You tried your best, really. You wanted to give Kinich a handmade flower you’d seen everyone make on TikTok, but it failed and now you had to give Kinich a poorly made rendition that looked like it got run over by a car.

When you walked out the door, Kinich was already waiting outside of your dorm lobby dressed in casual clothes (which honestly made him look even cuter). He noticed you slowly walking over to him and he smiled. “Hey.”

“Hey,” you said, almost sounding breathless. The paper flower in your hand almost was crushed in your hands because of how nervous you were. “Um, I have something for you.” you hesitantly showed him the paper flower and Kinich blinked twice before taking it from you. “I know it looks ugly, but I swear I tried my best.”

You could see him stifling a laugh and you immediately frowned. “Stop laughing!”

“Sorry, it’s just-” Kinich tucked the flower safely in his pocket. “I love it, I promise.”

“You were laughing,” you pointed out.

“Because I find it cute,” Kinich replied. “You made a really pretty flower.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Why do I feel like you’re lying?”

“I promise I’m not,” Kinich said, taking your hand in his. “Now, shall we get going with our date?”

-

PRESENT TIME

“I can’t believe you kept this!” you exclaim in disbelief. The paper flower still looked like the first time you gave it to him. “I thought you threw this away.”

“Why would I?” Kinich asks. “Both of these gifts from you are special and I’d like to keep them with me forever if I can help it.”

“So sappy,” you tease. The box still has a few items in it but you’re about to run late for the restaurant reservation Kinich booked for your date night. “Come on, let’s go. We’re going to be late.”

Kinich hums. “Do you have a present for me tonight?” he teases, giving you a smile. “Perhaps another poorly made paper flower?”

“Keep that up and you’re having dinner alone,” you say sternly.

Kinich immediately stops talking.

[amirasainz]

I love the Ollie x Kimi x Norris!reader story. Can you write one where they are in Vegas and the three of them were seen in a chapel, all dressed up. Lando is losing his mind. You can decide the ending for yourseld😅🥰

Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!

-xoxo babygirl 🧡

Vegas weeding

It was a scorching hot night in Las Vegas, and the F1 paddock was buzzing with excitement as the drivers, team personnel, and fans gathered for the inaugural Las Vegas Grand Prix. The neon lights, the towering casinos, and the iconic Strip were all within sight of the circuit, making it one of the most exciting weekends in recent memory.

Yn, Lando’s 18-year-old sister, had managed to score a spot in the paddock for the event, thanks to Lando’s influence. Despite being a huge F1 fan, she never truly cared about the spotlight or the glamorous side of it all. She was happy to simply be with her brother and enjoy the race weekend. But today, something felt different. Yn was hanging out with Kimi and Ollie , two of her closest friends.

The three of them were laughing as they left the paddock after the race, sharing a moment of happiness while Lando made his way through the crowd. His eyes caught sight of them, and his jaw clenched when he saw how close they were standing. Kimi’s hand rested lightly on Yn’s shoulder, while Ollie was standing just a step behind her, clearly enjoying the conversation. Lando had noticed the flirting all day, and his protective instincts kicked in.

“Kimi! Ollie! Don’t you think that’s a bit too much?” Lando muttered under his breath as he walked up to the group.

“Lando! Didn’t see you there!” Ollie grinned, not at all fazed by Lando’s less-than-impressed expression. He leaned in to give Yn a playful nudge, which only made her giggle.

Lando’s eyes narrowed. “Yn, are you—? Seriously, guys?” His voice was a mixture of concern and annoyance.

“What’s up, Lando?” Kimi asked, glancing over at the older Norris with a smirk. “Just having a good time. You should join us.”

“You two are too... close,” Lando said, his tone protective. He took a step toward his sister, placing a hand on her shoulder. “I know you’ve been friends forever, but maybe lay off a bit? She’s my little sister, alright?”

Ollie raised an eyebrow, teasing, “Lando’s being overprotective, huh? You know, she’s grown up now.”

“Don’t talk to me like that, Ollie,” Lando shot back, his eyes still on his sister. Yn, for her part, looked unfazed. She was used to Lando’s protectiveness, but she couldn’t help but enjoy the attention from Kimi and Ollie.

Kimi laughed, crossing his arms. “Don’t worry, mate. We were just having a bit of fun. Nothing serious.” He then shot Ollie a sly grin, and Ollie returned the look with a shrug.

“Well, let’s not get carried away,” Lando said, still not convinced. The teasing between the three younger drivers made him feel uneasy. “I don’t like this.”

The others, sensing Lando’s discomfort, decided to take it up a notch. Carlos, who had been standing nearby, leaned over and whispered, loud enough for Lando to hear, “Ollie and Kimi... what’s going on there, Lando? Are we going to be seeing wedding invitations anytime soon?”

Lando shot him a glare, but the other drivers joined in, laughing and adding to the teasing.

“Yeah, Lando. You might be an uncle soon,” Max chimed in, chuckling at the thought.

Lando’s face flushed. “Shut up. I’m not joking, alright? I’m seriously not okay with this.”

“Don’t worry, mate. She’s tough. And so are we,” said Oscar, grinning as he slapped Lando on the back.

But it wasn’t just the teasing that bothered Lando; it was the idea that his little sister might be growing up faster than he was ready for. His thoughts swirled with concern for her safety, her happiness, and everything in between.

A few hours later, just as the Las Vegas lights began to twinkle against the night sky, the entire paddock was hit with a sudden flurry of photos on social media. The images spread like wildfire, with fans and journalists alike flooding the timeline.

Lando’s phone buzzed incessantly, but it wasn’t until he glanced down at his screen that he saw the photos. Yn, Kimi, and Ollie were standing in front of a wedding chapel, all dressed up in formal attire—Yn in a white dress, Kimi in a sharp suit, and Ollie looking every bit the dashing gentleman.

“What the hell?” Lando exclaimed, his voice rising in disbelief. “Are they serious?!”

The other drivers crowded around him, their eyes glued to the images on Lando’s screen.

“Okay, what did we miss?” Carlos asked with a smirk. “Is there a wedding on the cards or what?”

“I swear, if they got married—” Lando began, but was immediately cut off by Oscar.

“Wouldn’t put it past them,” Oscar teased. “I mean, look at that picture. They’re practically all ready for a Vegas wedding!”

Lando clenched his jaw. “I’m not letting this slide. Not on my watch.” He immediately stood up, his protective instincts kicking into overdrive. “Where’s the chapel? I’m going to make sure they’re okay.”

“Wait, what?” Max asked, his eyes widening in surprise.

“We’re going to the chapel. I’m getting my sister,” Lando said firmly. “Come on, some of you are coming with me. We’re not letting this go down like this.”

The other drivers hesitated for a moment, before nodding in agreement, clearly amused but willing to help out. Lando, Max, and Oscar hopped into a car, with Carlos following them in another, all speeding toward the chapel. They exchanged worried glances, but it was clear that Lando’s protective streak was not something anyone was going to question tonight.

Meanwhile, Yn, Kimi, and Ollie were inside the chapel, talking to a group of fans who had invited them as witnesses to their wedding. It was a completely innocent and heartwarming gesture from the fans who adored the young drivers. The couple had asked Kimi, Ollie, and Yn to witness their vows as a fun, surprise element to their special day, something the three were more than happy to do.

“I’m so happy you guys agreed to come,” the bride, a bubbly woman with a huge smile, said, turning to Kimi, Yn, and Ollie. “We just wanted a couple of fun, cool people to make this day even more memorable.”

Kimi grinned and nodded. “Of course! It’s an honor.”

Ollie added, “And we get to be part of a wedding! Not something we get to do every day.”

Yn smiled and looked around the small chapel. “This is so sweet. You guys must be so happy.”

Just then, the chapel doors slammed open. Lando, Max, and Oscar stormed inside, their eyes scanning the room. They were clearly confused, unsure if they’d walked into a real wedding or if they had just arrived at a strange party.

“Yn!” Lando shouted, looking like he was ready to jump out of his skin.

Yn looked up and blinked in surprise. “Lando? What are you doing here?”

“What’s going on here?” Lando’s eyes darted between Kimi, Ollie, and his sister. His gaze softened slightly, but his concern was evident. “You didn’t... actually get married, did you?”

“No!” Kimi said quickly, holding up his hands in a defensive gesture. “It’s not like that, mate. These guys just invited us to witness their wedding.”

“They invited us to be witnesses,” Ollie added, smiling at the bride and groom.

Lando’s shoulders sagged in relief, though his protective frown didn’t quite disappear. “You seriously couldn’t tell me you were just... hanging out with the couple’s wedding plans? I thought you three were—”

“Don’t worry, Lando,” Max interrupted with a smirk. “Your sister’s not married yet. But maybe soon, huh?”

Lando shot Max a glare. “Don’t start, Verstappen.”

“We’re just witnesses,” Yn said with a soft laugh, still trying to process her brother’s dramatic arrival. “You can relax, Lando.”

Lando crossed his arms over his chest, still looking unconvinced. “Yeah, yeah, just making sure. No funny business, alright?”

“Nothing funny here, mate,” Kimi chuckled. “Now, why don’t you join the celebration? It’s a wedding, after all.”

Reluctantly, Lando sat down next to his sister. As the wedding ceremony began, he leaned over and whispered to her, “Just promise me you won’t get any crazy ideas, okay?”. He threw his arm over her shpulder, pulling her close to himself while shooting Ollie and Kimi a look that could kill them.

Yn rolled her eyes but smiled. “Relax, Lando. It’s just a wedding. You need to lighten up.”

As the vows were exchanged, Lando couldn’t help but feel a little better, knowing that his sister was safe. And maybe, just maybe, he was overreacting... a little.

But then again, he would always be her big brother. And that meant he’d always have her back—whether it was a wedding chapel or anything else that came their way.

[drowning-in-paragraphs]

hiiiiiii,

Can I request a Jude Bellingham imagine where you’re in the Bellingham documentary for his YouTube and it shows you behind the scenes watching his games and stuff and just being a cute couple 💓.

Thank Youuuuuu💓✨

a/n: sorry for the delay, I don't know why but it took me a while to write it. I hope you like it. Request me whatever you want!

THE ONE

jude bellingham x gf!reader

warnings: none, just that English is not my first language.

summary: It’s her turn to step into the spotlight of Jude’s documentary, where unseen moments reveal the depth of their connection, exposing a side of their relationship and how much they mean for each other to the public.

The camera lens focuses, the soft hum of equipment fills the room, and she sits on their cozy, cream-colored couch. Her hands are folded nervously on her lap, her leg bouncing ever so slightly as she adjust her position, trying to find the perfect balance between comfort and confidence. Her hair falls softly around her face, and she tucks a strand behind her ear, looking up at the camera with a genuine smile. A nervous chuckle escapes her as she glances toward the crew and to him.

Jude stands just out of the frame, leaning against the wall, giving her a reassuring nod, his warm smile reaching his eyes. He mouths, "You got this," and she exhales deeply, trying to calm the butterflies in her stomach. His presence is comforting, just like it always is.

"Hi, I'm...well, Jude's girlfriend," she says. "But, more than that, I’m just me—someone who tries to support him, love him, and keep him grounded." Her voice is gentle, but there’s a quiet strength in it, one that suggests she's much more than just his partner.

The interviewer asks the first question, something light to ease her in. "How did you two meet?"

She smiles wider and looks down for a moment, as if reliving the memory. “We actually met through mutual friends. Super normal. I didn’t know much about football back then, but of course I was fully aware of who he was. In person, he was even more handsome and charming, so it wasn’t a surprise that I was attracted to him straight away.” She laughs at herself. “Because of that, I spent most of the night ignoring him since I was dying of embarrassment and it wasn’t until I spilled a drink on his shirt that I was able to look him in the eye to apologize, but Jude just laughed. From then on, we spent the whole night talking, even over text afterward. We got along pretty quickly, but we took things slow. I think that’s what made it work… just letting everything happen naturally.”

As she speaks, the screen fades into footage of the two of them, candid moments from Jude's life. There's a clip of them walking hand in hand, Jude glancing over at her, his face lighting up in a way that's impossible to fake. Another video shows them sitting on a couch, laughing at something on TV. Jude’s arm is casually draped around her shoulders, his thumb gently rubbing circles on her arm. The chemistry is effortless, easy.

Back in the interview, she’s asked about how their relationship has evolved with Jude’s career skyrocketing.

"Honestly, it’s been crazy," she admits. "His schedule is intense, and sometimes we’re apart for long stretches. But we’ve always made it a priority to stay connected. We FaceTime all the time, even if it’s just to say goodnight. And when he’s home, we make sure to enjoy the little things—going on walks, cooking together, just spending time. Those are the moments that matter most."

Suddenly, Jude’s voice breaks in from off-camera, clearly teasing her. “Yeah, well burning food doesn’t count as cooking, love.”

She laughs, shaking her head, the sound of his voice immediately softening her expression. “He’s talking about his abilities,” she replies with a grin. The off-screen laughter from the crew adds to the playful atmosphere.

The next part of the interview focuses on her relationship with Jude’s family, something that’s been a big part of his life. Clips play of her with Jude’s younger brother, Jobe, during a family dinner. They’re joking around, Jobe and her teasing Jude and him complaining about their alliance. Another clip shows her talking to Jobe who’s clearly comfortable with her, and at one point, she playfully nudges him, making everyone laugh. Then, she’s shown with Jude’s parents, Denise and Mark, during a relaxed family gathering. She’s sitting next to Denise, the two of them talking and laughing as if they’ve known each other forever. The bond is clear—she fits into the family seamlessly, not as an outsider, but as someone who belongs.

"Jobe is like a little brother to me," she says with a smile when asked about him. "He’s such a good kid, and we’re always joking around. It’s just easy with him. And Jude’s parents... they’re honestly the sweetest people I’ve ever met. Denise is like a second mom to me. She’s always checking in, making sure I’m okay, especially when Jude’s away. And Mark, well... he’s the kind of dad who always has a story to tell and advice to give, whether you ask for it or not,” she adds with a laugh. “I couldn’t be luckier.”

Cut to a heartwarming montage of family moments: Jude’s girlfriend and Jobe playing video games, both of them laughing uncontrollably as Jude looks on from the side, shaking his head. Another clip shows her helping Denise in the kitchen, the two of them sharing a peaceful, easy rapport, with Mark chiming in from the dining room, to help them.

“They are awesome.”

The screen cuts to a new video clip of Jude talking directly to the camera in a different segment of the documentary. He’s sitting outside on a patio, the sun glinting off his face as he reflects.

"My mom told me pretty early on that she thought she was the one," Jude says, nodding slightly, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "She said she just knew. And I trust my mom’s instincts more than anyone else’s. Honestly, I think I knew too, but hearing it from her made me super sure."

The scene shifts again, showing a playful clip of Jude and her from one of their trips. They’re by the beach, Jude holding the camera as they walk barefoot in the sand. He’s joking, trying to push her toward the water while she protests, laughing and running away. They tease each other endlessly, but the affection is obvious. Every touch, every glance, speaks volumes.

Back in the interview, Jude’s voice is heard once more, this time in a more serious tone. “She’s my rock,” he says. “People always ask me how I stay grounded, how I handle everything, and it’s her. She’s the one who keeps me steady when things get overwhelming.”

Her eyes soften as she listens to the interviewer words. "He said that?” She asks, blushing a little as the one holding the camera nods. “Well, I think we’re a team. We support each other through everything. When he's having a tough day, I’m there for him. And when I'm struggling, he’s always the first to lift me up."

The interviewer gives a knowing nod, then shifts the tone to something more playful. "Now, we’ve seen some fun clips of you two together, but who’s the bigger tease in the relationship?"

Her eyes widen slightly as she chuckles. "Oh, I know he’s going to say it’s him, but i’s definitely me. I love to tease him. He gets this little furrowed brow, and I just can’t help myself."

Another video plays, this time a candid clip of them in the living room. Jude is trying to explain some football tactic using salt shakers and a pepper grinder as players, while she watches him with an amused smile. Suddenly, she moves one of the shakers, to condiment her food, completely messing up his demonstration, and bursts into laughter when he groans dramatically, head in his hands.

Back in the interview, she shrugs innocently. "He takes it well, though. He’s a good sport about it."

Jude’s voice cuts in again. "Barely."

She bursts out laughing, shaking her head. "See? Always listening in."

The documentary closes with one last video—Jude and her sitting on the couch, his arm around her once more as they scroll through pictures on his phone. They’re laughing, teasing each other about the awkward photos, and then he pulls her close, kissing the top of her head. It’s a simple, intimate moment, but it says everything.

As the video is about to finish, she’s seen asleep in his arms and Jude’s voice comes through one last time. He looks at the camera with a smirk and whispers “Yeah... she’s the one.”

[alonetimelover]

pairing: Ginger Spice daughter!reader x Max Verstappen (ex!Harry Styles

fc: Sabrina Carpenter

summary: YN and Max can't catch a break from her past, can they? So when the song is "leaked" another one can be as well. There won't be any consequences. Unless that past will text the unexpected person.

warnings: swearing, probably just that

a/n: Took me some time, but it is here!!!!

masterlist part 1 part 2

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maxverstappen1 added to his IG story!

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yourinstagram

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris, danielricciardo and 4 003 845 others

yourinstagram oops! just an inchident on the race (in the studio) nonsense christmas remix somehow available right now???

view all 200 932 comments

maxverstappen1 I've already bought the Santa Claus costume

⤷ yourinstagram i'll take you for a ride?

⤷ maxverstappen1 I'm available right now.

⤷ landonorris not in the public comments, GUYS

⤷ yourinstagram go away, lala

landonorris thank you for traumatising me once again... WHY DID YOU DO A REMIX?????

⤷ yourinstagram CAUSE MY MAN KEEPS ON GIVING

⤷ landonorris I DIDN'T NEED TO KNOW THAT

⤷ maxverstappen1 You asked, you got an answer.

⤷ landonorris go away, charles dickens

⤷ yourinstagram you know it's-

⤷ landonorris I DON'T WANT TO KNOW

daniericciardo Christmas dinner without Max then?

⤷ yourinstagram dad won't hear this one :))

⤷ christianhorner Too late, young lady.

charles_leclerc wasn't it supposed to be an album release?

⤷ yourinstagram too little of an inchident to somehow release a whole album, wasn't it?

⤷ yourinstagram also, can't you keep some secrets, you know, SECRET?

⤷ charles_leclerc Oh!

ynupdates WHAAATT????

ynsmybestie what in the hell is this??????

ynsmymama not yn 'leaking' a song just like harry to take the spotlight. QUEEN BEHAVIOUR.

ynshands no tthe inchident

formula1wags someone's coming for that no.1 spot

maxandyn WHY IS NOBODY TALKING ABOUT THE LAST SLIDE????

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maxverstappen1

liked by yourinstagram, landonorris, charles_leclerc and 1 864 320 others

maxverstappen1 Snowflakes in my stomach... Congratulations, shatje

view all 100 403 comemnts

yourinstagram wouldn't happen without you, my love

⤷ maxverstappen1 Glad to be of help.

landonorris your welcome for taking yet another sickening photo of you two

⤷ yourinstagram sickening?

⤷ maxverstappen1 You were just scrubbed from the New Years' party list. Good job!

⤷ landonorris you wouldn't

⤷ yourinstagram but i would

danielricciardo how does it feel to be the no.1?

⤷ maxverstappen1 The usual.

⤷ yourinstagram you're so hot

⤷ maxverstappen1 Well, thank you.

⤷ yourinstagram bed.

⤷ danielricciardo NOT UNDER MY COMMENT. COME ONE GUYS

charles_leclerc when are you singing on a track?

carlossainz55 congratulations yn!

ynupdates how i love them

maxnadyn they are the best couple

ynsmybestie second photo taken after yn got that charles dickens

formula1fan94 not max posting his girl on ig???? who are you?

ynfan49 this is the support a girl needs!

ynfan299 not the stop in responses after yn called max to bed

⤷ landonorris and why would you pu those words from your brain, through your fingertips and post here?

⤷ danielricciardo are you still in love with yn?

⤷ landonorris not that again

⤷ ynfan94 LANDO IN LOVE WITH YN????? NO WAY

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redbullracing

liked by yourinstagram, gerihalliwellhorner and 583 100 others

redbullracing This is a public announcement stating that Max Verstappen is very suitable for Christmas dinner at Horner's. Big boss please say yes

view all 85 148 comments

yourinstagram i love you admin

⤷ redbullracing I love you, YN YSN

gerihalliwellhorner That was a very good try, Max!

landonorris someone's desperate!

danielricciardo i thought you swore to max to never post it??

⤷ redbullracing challenging times call for desperate measures

danielricciardo btw! it was filmed month and months ago. mx was learning all the lyrics to impress geri

⤷ yourinstagram no way!!!!! maxie

ynupdates THIS MAN JUST KEEPS ON GIVING

formula1fan85 26th day without Max win be like:

charles_leclerc when are you releasing an album?

⤷ yourinstagram next album: i sing, you play piano, max is background singer and dancer. deal?

⤷ charles_leclerc deal.

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maxverstappen1 and yourinstagram added to their IG story!

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yourinstagram

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris, danielricciardo and 1 903 302 others

yourinstagram christmas at horners were a blast 🎄💫

view all 89 302 comments

maxverstappen1 I liked the host's daughter.

⤷ yourinstagram scandalous.

maxverstappen1 You are so beautiful.

⤷ yourinstagram falling deeper in love with you with each day

landonorris I made it not only to horner's christmas party but to yn's instagram feed????

danielricciardo jpeg account when?

gerihalliwellhorner I love a full house but never thought that they can cause that much trouble.

⤷ landonorris that broken lamp wasn't my fault, ms Geri

⤷ charles_leclerc that red stain on the couch isn't from my wine

⤷ carlossainz55 i did eat the whole cake

⤷ yourinstagram and I frank that 1952 wine

lewishamilton Thank you for inviting me and Roscoe!

sebastianvettel It was a pleasure spending Christmas with you all!

georgerussell63 I've never eaten so good in my life

ynupdates not the whole f1 grid having a Christmas together??? at horner's house???

ynsmybestie oh she looked so beautiful

comment liked by maxverstappen1

maxandyn iiiii lllloooooovvvvvveeeeee tttttthhhhhhheeeeeemmm

formula1fan93 Lewis at horner's??? wtf

ynsfan943 not yn just bringing whole grid home and destroying the house on chritians expense

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landonorris, danielricciardo and yourinstagram added to their IG story!

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a/n: little bit of fluff with some drama and some secrets being kept. do we like it so far??

[fanficsat12am]

how the brothers react to you listening after they were interrupted I Lucifer & Mammon

📜 𝙼𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙻𝙸𝚂𝚃!! 📜 Buy me a coffee? Leviathan, Satan & Asmodeus

Lucifer

He was a demon whose presence alone can catch a whole room’s attention. You can easily spot it from how he displayed himself—an epitome of perfection.

But alas, it wasn't always as easy to be heard when it came to his brothers. It seemed as if the only time they'd actually do so was when it felt like the whole Devildom could hear his booming voice. But who can blame them, there are 7 of them living under one roof after all. 

It was dinner time and he was in the middle of talking about an encounter with a rowdy demon when was interrupted by one of his siblings. This then prompted another response from one of them to another, and another until it was all just a cacophony of unintelligible talking. Each time he'd try to continue, his efforts proved to be futile, being once again interrupted. He eventually ceased trying altogether and opted to just listen, knowing full well he'd never get to finish. At least that’s what he thought. 

He looked across from him to meet your eyes. They weren't bolting about trying to keep up with the conversation of the others, they were set on him and only him. "Don't stop now! What'd you do?" you asked.

It felt nice, to say the least. He could not deny the warmth that had spread in his chest, knowing his once-shot pride was slowly being mended back together. Although he’s not surprised, considering how you’d happily lend an ear to listen whenever he’d talk about his exhausting days—this instance being no different.

As per our request, he continued on, the incomprehensible chatter fading into the background. The two of you would be in your own little bubble, with Lucifer telling tales as back as hundreds of years ago. Not too long after, his brothers were fascinated as well, enjoying the sense of nostalgia his tales brought. It all eventually ends with only the two of you still at the table—you being left in awe and Lucifer feeling a sense of being appreciated as well as appreciating you.

“I hope you found my stories enjoyable, My Love. If you wish to hear more, I'd be happy to humor you”

“I don't know how you'll be able to beat that one time when you and Mammon switched bodies for a while”

He clamps a hand over your mouth before you can add further salt to that memory of his.

“Shshshshsh. Some stories should never meet the light of day again”

Mammon

It’s not uncommon for the second born to be drowned out by his brothers. He typically just sulks and adds to the conversation by providing sounds of protest and agreement, but he never gets to fully share with the group.

Despite this, it gives him comfort that there’s at least one person who he knows would hear him even in a place as loud as the HoL. 

In the midst of the chaos, he felt a light tap on his hand. Looking up, he found you staring at him with curious eyes. "What happened next?" you asked, accompanied by a tilt of your head. If he was being completely honest, he was just trying to show off to his brothers— not really expecting someone to actually care which caught him off guard. Now that he did catch someone’s attention, he of course had to sprinkle in some exaggeration, no? He's not called The Great Mammon for Nothing.

He enjoys the feeling of having a spotlight on him. Your spotlight to be specific. He liked hogging your attention like the greedy little gremlin he is, and he’s not afraid to admit it. He’d start to ramble and would have a mix-match of different topics, jumping from one to another totally unrelated story. 

In the chance that you were sharing something at the table and get interrupted by one of his brothers, he doesn’t hesitate to immediately cut them off, no matter what you were about to say. He didn't even realize he did it—the action merely feeling like a knee jerk reaction to him.

"Oi oi oi! Shut yer traps for a minute will ya. MC was in the middle of something”

“...I need to go to the bathroom?”

“Tell us more" He said, the ends of his hands meeting as if in a prayer pose.

[rootedinrevisions]

Where the Night Ends

SUMMARY: After an evening in the spotlight, Glen Powell’s biggest night of the year is more than just red carpets and bright lights—it’s a celebration of his career and a test of his resilience. Through the glamour and chaos, you’re by his side, offering him a safe space to share the highs and the inevitable disappointments. In the quiet hours after the applause fades, the two of you find strength in each other, proving that true connection shines brighter than any award.

A/N: This story was inspired by the idea for a story I've had for a while for Glen that even the most charismatic and confident people, like Glen Powell, have quieter, more vulnerable sides they don’t often show the world. While Glen’s charm and upbeat personality make him shine in the public eye, I wanted to imagine what those quiet, intimate moments might look like—the ones where he allows himself to relax and let his guard down with someone he trusts completely. And I thought tonight with the Golden Globes and him not winning would be a perfect way to explore this idea I've had. Also I don't know why but Glen low key gives me golden retriever boyfriend vibes so there's some of that in here as well!

I’d love to hear your thoughts! Your Likes, Comments, and Reblogs mean the world to me and help me continue creating stories like this one.

WARNINGS: Nudity (No Smut, just non-sexual but intimate nudity).

TAGS: In comments.

You glance at your reflection one last time, running your hands down the smooth fabric of your gown. The luxurious satin hugs your body in all the right places, the deep color shimmering subtly under the bathroom light. The rich hue perfectly complements Glen’s sharp, classic black ensemble, and you can't help but imagine how great the two of you will look together tonight. The gold accents on your bracelet catch the light with every movement, adding a hint of warmth to the otherwise cool tones of the dress. It feels like magic—elegant, understated, and yet striking in its own quiet way. The gown pools slightly at your feet, as if it were made for you.

You take a deep breath, trying to calm the nerves that have settled in the pit of your stomach. This is your first time attending such an event with Glen, despite the time you’ve been together. You won’t be walking the red carpet beside him, and the idea of staying in the background, on the sidelines, makes you both excited and slightly anxious. You're not used to this kind of attention, and tonight, all eyes will be on him.

Before you can let the nerves fully settle in, you hear Glen's voice. His warm, familiar tone breaks through the quiet of the hotel room.

"Damn," he murmurs from the doorway, his voice a little breathless. "I thought the Golden Globes were supposed to be the main event tonight, but now I’m not so sure."

You turn toward him, your heart skipping a beat. He’s standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame with a grin, his velvet jacket catching the light. His eyes lock onto yours, and there’s something in them—a mixture of admiration, affection, and something deeper.

He takes a slow step forward, his gaze never leaving yours, and wraps his arms around you from behind. His chest presses into your back, warm and solid, grounding you in the moment. His breath brushes against your ear, soft and gentle.

"You look incredible," he says, voice low and reverent, before pressing a kiss to your temple.

You meet his eyes in the mirror, a small smile tugging at your lips. The warmth of his embrace settles your nerves, and the tension you hadn’t realized you were holding begins to melt away.

His presence is like a balm, soothing your anxieties. You lean back into him, the soft beat of his heart against your back comforting you. It’s a moment of quiet intimacy before the whirlwind of the night begins.

"You sure I’m not going to embarrass you in front of all those cameras?" you tease, glancing back at him with a playful smile.

Glen chuckles softly, tightening his arms around you just a little. "You couldn’t embarrass me if you tried," he murmurs, his voice steady. "Besides I think my mom and dad have the embarrassing moments covered."

You both laugh softly, but the smile that stretches across his face is real—genuine, almost vulnerable in a way that only you get to see. It’s a rare, quiet moment that makes you feel all the more certain of the love you share.

You take a deep breath, your nerves settling as you feel the warmth of his body surrounding you. His embrace is a reminder of the calm you’ve come to rely on in the chaos of this world—his, and now yours.

"Alright, I think it’s time to get going," you say softly, turning slightly to grab your coat from the chair.

Glen kisses your cheek before you both head for the door, his hand brushing yours as you step into the next phase of the night.

You and Glen step out of the hotel room, the cool air of the hallway brushing against your skin as the door clicks shut behind you. Glen’s hand finds yours almost instinctively, the familiar warmth of his touch grounding you once again. You give him a small smile, feeling the shift from the quiet intimacy of the room to the bustle of the world outside.

"Ready?" he asks, his voice warm but laced with a hint of excitement. His eyes twinkle, full of that effortless charm he seems to carry with him no matter where he goes.

"Ready as I’ll ever be," you reply, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze.

The elevator ride down to the lobby is quick, but the silence between you is comfortable. Glen’s thumb brushes lightly against your hand as you both stand side by side, the sound of the elevator music almost drowned out by the rush of adrenaline you both share. Tonight is big—for him, for both of you—but in this moment, it’s just the two of you, sharing a quiet space before the chaos begins.

The elevator dings as it reaches the lobby floor, and you step out into the bright, bustling space. The lobby is abuzz with activity—people in tuxedos and gowns chatting, last-minute preparations happening all around. You spot the entrance to the event area, where a stream of reporters and photographers are lined up, their cameras ready to catch the next big arrival.

Glen’s parents, Cyndy and Glen Sr., are already waiting by the elevators, talking to a few other familiar faces. The moment they see you both, Cyndy’s warm, motherly smile lights up her face.

"There they are!" she says, walking over to give Glen a hug. "Glen, you look so handsome!"

Glen returns her embrace with a chuckle, his broad shoulders relaxing in her hug. "Thanks, Mom. You look amazing, too."

Cyndy pulls back, giving you a quick once-over with approving eyes. "And you, sweetheart, look just breathtaking."

"Thank you," you say, smiling softly, feeling a wave of warmth at her words.

Glen Sr. gives you a small nod of approval before turning his attention to the growing crowd. “Ready to go, son?” he asks, his voice low and steady, a stark contrast to the bright excitement in the air.

"Yeah, let’s do this," Glen replies, squeezing your hand once more before stepping forward.

As you step toward the doors, the weight of the night becomes palpable, the atmosphere charged with anticipation. Glen’s hand slips from yours, but not before he gives it one last, reassuring squeeze. His gaze meets yours for a moment, his eyes soft with affection despite the flurry of activity around you.

He leans in close, his lips brushing against your ear, sending a wave of warmth through your body. 

"Stay close to my parents," he murmurs, his voice low and steady, a mixture of affection and quiet command. "I’ll talk to you after the red carpet, okay?"

You nod, the reassurance in his words settling your nerves just slightly. His presence, even in these small moments, brings you an unexpected sense of calm. You watch as he straightens up, giving you a final, comforting smile before turning to head towards the first section of the red carpet. The flashing lights of the cameras immediately focus on him, the buzz of voices rising as they call out his name.

You take a deep breath, reminding yourself that tonight isn’t about the spotlight on you—it’s about being there for him, supporting him as he steps into this moment.

Before you can fully process the next rush of energy, you feel a light nudge at your elbow. Glen’s dad, with his ever-so-gracious demeanor, offers you his arm. 

"Shall we?" he asks with a warm smile, a glint of pride in his eyes as he looks toward his son, now posing for the cameras ahead.

You slip your arm through his, the two of you walking in step with Glen’s mother beside you. The hum of the red carpet fills the air, the cameras flashing in bursts like strobe lights as people call out names, photographers jockeying for the best shot. It feels surreal, watching Glen move through the chaos so effortlessly, a magnet for attention, while you remain just behind him, tucked safely in the background.

The red carpet is a world of its own—a whirlwind of lights, flashing cameras, and excited chatter. You stand a few feet behind Glen, walking with his parents as you watch him effortlessly navigate the chaos. From the moment he steps onto the carpet, he’s in his element, greeting reporters, posing for the cameras, and smiling with a confidence that seems almost innate.

He moves with such ease, each step deliberate, his velvet jacket catching the light with every turn. The photographers call out his name, the clicks of the cameras almost deafening, but Glen is unfazed. He’s a natural—tilting his head slightly, flashing that signature smile that’s made him a favorite among fans and critics alike. Each pose is perfectly executed, like he’s done this a thousand times, and yet you know it’s all real, all part of the moment.

Glen interacts with the reporters as though they’re old friends. He laughs at their jokes, asks how their evening is going, and never misses a beat. It’s impossible not to feel proud as you watch him—this man you love, who has worked so hard to get to this point in his career, now being recognized for his talents. The genuine warmth in his smile, the way he listens to each person, makes them feel like they’re the only one in the room.

You catch snippets of conversations, little flashes of Glen’s humor and grace as he talks to the interviewers. “It’s an honor just to be here with such incredible talent,” he says to one, giving a humble but genuine answer that makes the reporter smile brightly. The cameras click furiously as he poses once more, a wink in your direction as if he’s sharing a private joke with you amidst all the attention.

He walks past you briefly, pausing to stop and chat with one of the other nominees. The other actor greets him warmly, their handshake firm and friendly. Glen’s laughter rings out, the two of them talking animatedly. It’s clear they’re both enjoying the interaction, and you feel a swell of pride as you watch him effortlessly charm everyone around him.

As Glen continues walking down the carpet, interacting with other actors and actresses, you steal quick glances at him, noticing the way his eyes flicker toward you, checking in even amidst the chaos. Every so often, he pauses—just for a moment—and looks back to where you’re standing with his parents, catching your gaze in a fleeting moment of connection.

It happens once when he’s posing for a photographer. He turns just enough to meet your eyes, his smile softening, just for you. Then, as he moves toward the next group of reporters, he sends a quick wink your way—casual but filled with meaning.

As he’s walking towards the interview section, he reaches out briefly, brushing his hand against yours. It’s so subtle, so quick, but the warmth of it lingers, making your heart skip a beat. You smile to yourself, feeling like you’re the only one in the crowd who understands the quiet moments between the flashes.

Every now and then, he checks in with his parents, his dad offering a gentle nod or a pat on the back, and his mom giving him a quick hug, congratulating him on the moment. As he walks past you again, he places his hand lightly on your lower back, the touch firm but gentle, like a silent reassurance. He leans in, his voice low but carrying just enough for you to hear, “I’m almost done, I promise.” You smile softly, nodding, grateful for the little check-ins.

With each moment, you feel more in awe of him—his ability to navigate this world with such grace, his kindness, and his generosity toward everyone he meets. You’ve always known how hard he’s worked for this, but seeing him shine like this, being recognized for his talent, makes your heart swell with pride. The man standing before you, talking to the crowd, was once just a guy with a dream—and now, he’s living it.

As Glen steps off the red carpet, the flurry of flashing cameras and excited shouts start to fade away. The soft hum of conversation inside the venue fills the air, and for a brief moment, you feel like the world slows down. You catch his eye just as he spots you standing at the edge of the carpet, watching him. His smile lights up his face—genuine and warm—and your heart flutters just a little bit at the sight of it.

Without a second thought, Glen strides over to you, his presence commanding yet soft, as though the spotlight of the red carpet hasn’t followed him. He leans in, pressing a quick, simple kiss to your lips—one that might be so brief to anyone watching that they’d miss it, but to you, it feels like a promise. It’s the kind of kiss that lingers just enough to remind you that you’re still in his thoughts, even in the whirlwind of the evening.

Pulling back, Glen smiles at you, his eyes soft but intense. Without missing a beat, he reaches down and takes your hand in his, the warmth of his touch grounding you in the midst of everything. His parents, ever gracious, follow behind as Glen begins to lead you into the venue.

As you step inside, the atmosphere changes. The venue is filled with a sea of familiar, and very recognizable, faces. A sea of stars, each more dazzling than the last. You glance around, and your nerves spike just a little—this is the world Glen belongs to, and even though you’re used to being by his side, it feels a little more overwhelming now. The glitzy chandeliers above, the hum of voices, the clicking of glasses... all of it is a far cry from the quieter, more intimate moments you’ve shared together.

Instinctively, you bring your free hand up and curl it around Glen’s arm, drawing just a little closer to him. It’s subtle, a small gesture, but it makes you feel grounded in a room full of people you don’t quite know. Glen notices immediately, his eyes flicking down to you as if checking in to see how you're holding up.

“You alright?” he murmurs under his breath, his voice low but caring.

You give him a small smile, nodding, but he can tell there’s a flicker of nervousness in your eyes. Glen squeezes your hand gently, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand in a slow, reassuring rhythm. 

“We’ve got this,” he says with a quiet confidence that you know is meant as much for you as it is for himself.

His smile is enough to settle your nerves, if only for a moment. You take a deep breath, and as the two of you move further into the room, the sight of the grand tables, the gleaming crystal glasses, and the fancy place settings begin to feel more familiar. Glen leads you with an easy grace, guiding you toward your assigned table with a worker who’s waiting to escort you.

The worker gestures toward your seats, and Glen holds out his hand as you approach. With a flourish, he pulls your chair out for you, a small yet thoughtful gesture that makes you feel like the most important person in the room. You smile at him, grateful for his quiet care in a setting that could easily feel overwhelming.

As you sit down, Glen takes the seat beside you, his presence as steady and comforting as it has always been. He straightens his jacket and settles into his seat, and for the first time in hours, the two of you share a quiet moment, just the two of you. The world outside might be full of glamour, fame, and recognition, but here, in this little bubble you’ve found together, it’s just Glen—being the perfect gentleman, just as he always is.

The award show begins with a grand flourish. The host steps onto the stage, the lights dimming just slightly as the audience settles into their seats. You glance around, taking in the bustling room—famous actors, actresses, and directors sitting nearby, the whispers of excitement as the event officially kicks off.

Glen’s hand rests lightly on the back of your chair. The touch is small, but it anchors you in the midst of all the grandeur surrounding you. Without thinking, you lean into him just slightly, your head tipping toward his. The warmth of his body is a comfort, grounding you as the opening monologue begins.

The host captures the crowd’s attention with a series of jokes, and the sound of laughter ripples across the room. Glen smiles at the moment, but his attention is mostly on you. Every now and then, his fingers gently tap the back of your chair as if offering his quiet reassurance. You can feel his eyes on you, checking in with a glance when he thinks you’re not looking, making sure you’re comfortable in your seat.

The first few awards pass by quickly, the names of the nominees and winners announced with the usual anticipation, but you can feel the clock ticking in your mind, each passing moment heightening the tension in your chest. Glen is nominated for Best Performance by an Actor in a Motion Picture—Musical or Comedy, and the weight of the moment is starting to sink in.

You can feel your nerves rising with each passing category. With each announcement, the tightness in your chest grows as you anxiously glance down at your program, running your fingers over the pages in a distracted rhythm. Every now and then, Glen’s hand brushes against yours, either adjusting his position or offering an unspoken gesture of comfort. When his fingers meet yours, it’s as if the connection between you both is the only thing that grounds you amidst the flashing lights and the build-up.

The host’s voice rings out again, announcing the next presenters. You force yourself to take a slow breath, trying to calm the flutter of nerves that’s started to settle deep in your stomach. You can’t help but glance up at Glen, who, despite the chaos and the nerves building up inside him, is still looking at you with that same steady calmness. His eyes meet yours, soft but intense, and he gives you a small, quiet smile.

“You good?” he asks under his breath, his voice barely audible over the hum of the audience.

You nod, though you’re not sure if you believe it yourself. “Yeah, just a little anxious,” you admit quietly, fingers fidgeting with the edge of your program.

Glen gives you a reassuring squeeze on your shoulder and leans in closer. “You’re doing great,” he whispers, his breath warm against your ear. “Remember I’m right here.”

His voice is a steady comfort, and for a moment, you let yourself relax into it, but the closer you get to the moment of the award announcement, the harder it is to ignore the nerves prickling in your chest. You try not to let it show, but it’s impossible to ignore the fact that your whole body seems to tense with every name called.

The tension is almost unbearable as the next award category is announced. You can feel your heart beating faster as the presenter walks to the podium, the lights dimming slightly on the stage as the camera pans over the audience. You glance at Glen, your hand still lightly resting on his knee, both of you anxiously waiting for the moment to unfold.

The announcer opens the envelope, a brief pause lingering in the air, and then the name is spoken.

“Sebastian Stan.”

The name hit you like a soft punch to the gut. You’d been hoping, praying that Glen’s name would be called. But it’s not.

You exhale, the breath you’d been holding escaping in a slow, almost deflated sigh as the applause fills the room. Everyone around you begins clapping, but you feel a heavy weight settle in the pit of your stomach. You try to join in, your hands moving in sync with the crowd, but it feels automatic, hollow.

Glen’s gaze shifts downward as he claps politely, a professional smile plastered on his face. The joy that had been there moments ago, when he’d been watching others celebrate, is now gone. You notice the subtle slump of his shoulders, the way his jaw tightens just slightly. It’s so faint, but you see it—his disappointment, quiet and swift.

Without hesitation, you place a gentle hand on his knee, your fingers curling softly around the fabric of his suit. It’s a quiet gesture, one that says everything without words.

Leaning in closer, you whisper just for him. “I’m still so proud of you,” you say, your voice soft but steady. “This doesn’t change anything. You’ve had an incredible year.”

His eyes flicker to you for a moment, and though his smile is still warm, there’s a shadow of something behind it. He nods, as if trying to convince himself. 

“Yeah,” he says quietly, voice carrying the faintest hint of regret. “It’s all right.”

The cameras still hover near your table, and Glen turns slightly, giving his trademark charm for the audience, though you can see the subtle strain in the movement. It’s a mask, and you know it.

But then, just as quickly as the moment of disappointment had settled in, he shrugs it off, the professional smile back in place. He straightens his shoulders and waves at the camera as if nothing’s wrong.

“Hey,” you murmur softly, your thumb brushing gently against the back of his hand, offering him one more piece of quiet support. “You’ve worked so hard. This is just the beginning.”

Glen looks at you, his eyes softening, and he offers a genuine, albeit faint, smile. “I know. It’s just... I’ve wanted this for so long.”

The words hang in the air for a moment, and in that instant, you both share a fleeting connection—one of understanding, of being on the same page. You see past the façade, knowing the true weight of his disappointment.

The rest of the evening passes in a blur of applause, speeches, and glimmering smiles, but the air feels different now. Glen seems to slip back into his polished, charming self, laughing with others and posing for photos as if nothing had happened. But you know him too well. Every now and then, when the laughter dies down or when the lights shift in a way that makes everything feel softer, you catch glimpses of that quiet vulnerability he’s tried to hide.

You continue to offer him your presence, your unwavering support. Your hand resting on the top of his hand which rests on his thigh, fingers gently tracing the skin on the back of his hand during the dull moments between awards. You don’t need to say anything—he knows you’re there. And though he’s the one in the spotlight, it’s in these moments when you share the unspoken strength that makes you feel so connected.

The show drags on, the anticipation building as the categories shift, and eventually, the evening winds down to its final moments. You barely notice the presenter’s voice over the soft murmur of your own thoughts, a quiet hum of gratitude settling in your chest. Glen may not have won tonight, but you know—this isn’t the end for him. Not even close.

When the final award is presented, everyone stands in applause, their excitement contagious, but you find yourself leaning back into the comfort of the moment. Glen’s hand, warm and steady on your back, guides you as you both move toward the exit, his parents trailing behind you.

You glance over at him—his face now a perfect mask of grace and poise. His earlier disappointment seems to have faded into the evening's glow. And though you know it might still sting for him later, for now, you’re here. Together. And that’s all that matters.

After the award show ends, Glen gives you a small, reassuring smile as you both make your way toward his parents, who are chatting with a few other guests near the exit. You and Glen share a brief exchange of looks—silent understanding passing between you before you approach them.

“Well, I think it’s time to say goodnight,” Glen says, his voice calm but tinged with a hint of exhaustion as he hugs his mom first, then his dad.

You follow his lead, offering a warm hug to Cyndy and Glen Sr., both of whom have been incredibly supportive all night. You exchange a few words, with his mom offering you a knowing smile and his dad patting Glen on the back, offering him a quiet “You did good, son. We're proud of you.”

Once the goodbyes are said, Glen takes your hand, leading you away from his parents to a quieter corner.

“Let’s get this night wrapped up,” he says with a grin, pulling you gently toward the after-party.

The after-party is lively but not too overbearing. The usual crowd of actors, producers, and influencers circulate the room, laughing and enjoying the last moments of the night. Glen and you share a few casual conversations with some of his industry friends, but the two of you stay close, mostly content in each other's presence.

You don’t stay long. Glen’s energy is starting to dip, and you can see the weight of the night catching up to him. When he whispers that he’s ready to leave, you’re more than ready to head back to the hotel as well.

As the elevator doors close behind you, the sounds of the bustling venue fade, replaced by the soft hum of the ride up. You catch Glen glancing at you from the corner of your eye, a soft smile playing at the edges of his lips.

“You were great tonight,” you say quietly, your voice a soft reassurance.

He shrugs, but the smile never fades. “It’s just part of the job.”

As you and Glen exit the elevator, the hallway feels quieter, almost like a contrast to the energy of the evening. The weight of the night—of the red carpet, the award show, the after-party—seems to melt away as you make your way down the hall toward your hotel room.

Glen’s hand is warm around yours, but you can feel the slight tension in his shoulders, the exhaustion settling in now that the cameras are no longer flashing and the attention is no longer on him. His smile, though still present, is more tired than it had been earlier. You can tell he’s ready to unwind, just the two of you.

Reaching the door, Glen digs into his pocket for the room key, the soft click of the lock echoing in the quiet hallway. As the door swings open, the familiar scent of the room hits you—slightly musty, but comforting, like the feeling of stepping back into a private space after a long, public day.

He holds the door open for you, letting you walk in first, before following closely behind. The room is dimly lit, the night sky outside casting a soft glow through the windows. You drop your clutch on the bed, watching as Glen kicks off his shoes with a tired sigh.

You turn to face him, standing there for a moment, both of you silently taking in the quiet that fills the room. Glen moves toward you, his hands finding yours, pulling you gently toward him.

“I’m glad you were here tonight,” he says softly, his voice filled with sincerity.

You smile up at him, the flicker of pride you feel for him still alive in your chest. “I wouldn’t have been anywhere else.”

Glen’s lips quirk into a small smile, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Instead, he steps closer, resting his forehead against yours for a moment, as if silently thanking you for being his anchor. He buries his face in your hair, inhaling deeply like he’s finally allowing himself to relax fully. The warmth of his breath against your temple sends a shiver through you.

Then, he lifts his head and looks at you, his hazel eyes holding something deeper. He reaches up, tilting your chin with his thumb and forefinger so you meet his gaze fully.

“Stay with me tonight,” he whispers, his voice low, almost hesitant, like he’s afraid you’ll say no.

Your chest tightens at his vulnerability, and you smile softly, shaking your head.

“Of course,” you whisper. Truthfully, you hadn’t planned on sleeping in your own room anyway.

His shoulders relax slightly at your answer, and his lips curve into a grateful smile. He brushes a stray strand of hair away from your face, his fingers lingering at your temple.

“Come on,” he murmurs, his voice still low, intimate. “Let’s take a shower.”

You nod, letting him guide you toward the bathroom. The sound of the water turning on fills the space as Glen leans over to adjust the temperature. Steam begins to curl in the air, softening the edges of the brightly lit room.

Turning back to you, Glen steps closer, his hands finding your waist. His velvet jacket is the first to go. You reach up, your fingers brushing against his shoulders as you slide it off. It drops to the floor in a heap, revealing his silk shirt underneath. Slowly, your hands move to the buttons, undoing each one with care.

As you work, Glen leans down, pressing soft kisses along your lips, jawline and down your neck. The gentle scrape of his stubble against your skin sends a shiver through you, but the moment isn’t rushed. It’s deliberate, like he’s savoring every second of closeness he missed earlier.

“You have no idea how badly I wanted to touch you all night,” he murmurs against your skin, his voice sending a pleasant shiver down your spine.

You pause for a moment, your hands resting on his chest, and look up at him with a small smile. “I think I might have an idea,” you tease softly, earning a quiet laugh from him.

Once you’ve finished unbuttoning his shirt, he shrugs it off in one smooth motion, letting it pool on the cool tiled floor beside his jacket. Then, his hands find your hips, and he gently spins you around. His fingers trace the line of the zipper on your dress, slowly sliding it down. The fabric loosens, slipping over your hips and down your body until it gathers at your feet.

Glen wraps his arms around your bare midsection, pulling you back against his chest. He presses a lingering kiss to your shoulder, his lips soft and warm against your skin.

“You’re perfect,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion, before moving to press another kiss to your neck. “I love you.”

Your breath catches at his words, and you rest your hands over his where they’re wrapped around you.

“I love you too,” you whisper, your voice barely audible over the sound of the running water.

After a moment, he releases you, stepping back so you can both finish undressing. Once you’re both bare, Glen takes your hand in his, his fingers intertwining with yours, and leads you into the shower. The warm water cascades over your skin, washing away the remnants of the long evening.

Inside the glass enclosure, it’s just the two of you, cocooned in the sound of the rushing water and the heat that envelopes you both. Glen reaches for the shampoo, lathering it in his hands before gently running them through the strands of your hair. His touch is slow and deliberate.

“You’re too good to me,” you murmur as he works the product into your scalp further.

He pauses, his hands resting on your shoulders as he looks at you. “Not even close,” he replies softly.

You turn your head to look at him, and his eyes hold yours for a long moment before he leans down, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to show you how much you mean to me.”

Your throat tightens at his words, and you reach up, brushing a damp strand of hair out of his face. “You already do,” you whisper.

For the rest of the shower, there’s no rush, no urgency—just the quiet, intimate exchange of touch and unspoken promises. By the time you step out and wrap yourselves in the plush hotel robes, the connection between you somehow feels even stronger, solidified by the quiet moments you’ve shared.

Steam still lingers in the air as the two of you step out of the bathroom, freshly showered and relaxed. You pad over to your suitcase, rifling through it for something to wear, but instead of choosing one of your own shirts, you make your way to Glen’s bag. Pulling out one of his well-worn t-shirts, you slip it over your head, the familiar scent of him enveloping you. You pair it with your favorite underwear and turn to see Glen already pulling on a pair of black boxers, his hair still damp and curling slightly at the edges.

He glances at you and his lips curve into a small, tired smile. “Looks better on you,” he murmurs, nodding toward his shirt. You roll your eyes playfully but can’t help the warmth that blooms in your chest. 

The two of you crawl onto the plush mattress, settling in side by side. The headboard provides a comfortable backrest as Glen grabs the remote and flicks on the TV, aimlessly scrolling through channels. The faint glow of the screen fills the otherwise dimly lit room, but neither of you are paying much attention to what’s on.

A comfortable silence settles between you, the kind that only comes with familiarity. Without a word, Glen shifts, leaning over to lay his head on your lap. His strong arms wrap loosely around your waist, anchoring himself to you like you’re the only thing keeping him grounded. He exhales deeply, his breath warm against your leg, and you feel the tension in his body begin to melt away.

Instinctively, your fingers find their way to his hair, gently combing through the damp strands. He sighs at the touch, the sound soft and vulnerable, and it makes your chest tighten. You know Glen is always composed in public, but here, in the quiet of the hotel room, he lets his guard down.

For a while, he doesn’t say anything, just holds onto you like he needs the connection to keep himself steady. You can feel the weight of the evening still lingering in the air between you, though. It’s not just physical exhaustion; it’s the emotional toll of the night—the highs and lows, the constant smiling, the conversations that required too much energy.

Finally, Glen breaks the silence, his voice low and raw. “It was a lot, you know?” he murmurs, his face still pressed against your lap. “The whole day… the prep, the red carpet, the cameras… smiling so much my face hurt. And then sitting there, waiting for them to call my name.”

You hum softly in acknowledgment, your fingers never faltering in their soothing motions through his hair. “It’s okay to feel disappointed, you know. You worked so hard. Anyone would feel the same.”

He’s quiet for a moment, his grip on your waist tightening slightly.

“It’s not even about winning,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. “I think… I think it’s just everything leading up to it. The expectations, the pressure. And then when they didn’t call my name, it was like all of that hit me at once.”

You glance down at him, his face partially hidden in the soft fabric of your borrowed t-shirt.

“It’s okay to feel this way, Glen,” you say softly, your voice full of reassurance. “You don’t always have to be the strong one.”

He shifts slightly, his eyes meeting yours for a fleeting moment before he buries his face back against you.

“I just hate feeling like I let everyone down. My parents, the team that worked on this movie with me…” His voice trails off, and you can feel the vulnerability in his words.

“You didn’t let anyone down,” you say firmly, your tone leaving no room for doubt. “Your parents are proud of you. I’m proud of you. I know Richard and Adria and the rest of the team that worked on this are proud of you too. Being nominated is a huge accomplishment, and everyone knows how much work you put into this.”

He doesn’t respond right away, but you feel him relax a little more against you. Your fingers continue their rhythmic motion through his hair, and the tension in his body seems to dissolve with every gentle stroke. The room is quiet except for the soft murmur of the TV in the background and the even sound of his breathing.

“You make everything better,” he finally whispers, his voice so quiet you almost don’t hear it.

You smile softly, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of his head. “That’s what I’m here for.”

Glen doesn’t say anything else, but his arms tighten around you, holding you close like you’re his anchor in the storm. And in that moment, you know you’re exactly where you’re meant to be—right here, grounding him when he needs it most.

[no-144444]

Meetings from the past- l.sargeant (no.2)

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summary: logan and you reconnect after a few years apart.

pairing: logan sargeant (no.2) x fem! singer! reader

song is 'circus' by brittney spears :)

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Logan walked into yet another party with his head held low, knowing this was one of his lasts with f1. It sucked, knowing that he was leaving. But he was going to indycar, and that was something, right? Prema was good, right? He just felt so… used. He hadn’t even been given a chance to prove himself in f1. He hadn’t even been given a proper goodbye by his shitty team. 

“Who’s she?” Lando leaned in to Oscar beside him. Logan looked up to see who he was talking about, and there you were. Dancing in the middle of the party like no one was watching, but everyone had their eyes on you. You were fucking gorgeous, at least that’s what Logan thought. 

“That’s Y/n,” Oscar chuckled. “She’s Hattie’s friend, we grew up together.”

Beside you was Oscar’s sister Hattie and Lily, Oscar’s girlfriend. You were all dancing along to the music being played far too loud in the club, singing along. 

“That’s Y/n?” Logan gawked. Being friends with Oscar he’d met you when you two were kids and grew up together. He’d had a crush on you since he was about 12 years old. “How long has it been?” You two hadn't spoken in years, but you stayed in each others comment section and offered support when it was needed.

“Too long,” Oscar laughed as Lily spotted him and ran up to the group, hugging him. "You should talk to her."

"Like that went well the last time," he scoffed, downing more of his beer. The last time you two had spoken face to face, you'd been breaking up. You were both sobbing crying, just hugging each other, and you kept apologising, wishing it hadn't worked out the way it did.

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

"This isn't fair," you frowned, wiping your tears on the sleeve of your hoodie. "This is shit."

Logan chuckled, this sad, half-hiccup, half-sob noise and he sighed. "I fucking love you so much."

You fell into his arms like you'd done so many times before, and you cried against each other for a good hour on his front porch.

"I would give up singing if it meant that we could be together forever," you whispered. Maybe it was silly, and you were only 18, but you knew Logan was your person. He was your everything.

"Don't say that," he cooed, pressing soft kisses to the crown of your head. "I love hearing you sing for me."

"I love singing for you," you looked up and pressed a kiss to his cheek as the taxi rolled up beside his house. He watched as you left, both of you crying as you walked away from the greatest thing you'd ever lost.

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

Hattie followed Lily, dragging you behind her as you complained about wanting to dance more. Hattie pulled a little too hard and you fell forward, straight into Logan. 

“Fuck!” you squealed as he grabbed you, keeping you upright. You looked up, only to be met with the eyes of the guy you’d liked since you were 12, and your first boyfriend. “Logan?!”

“Y/n,” he smiled. He didn’t drop his hands and you both just stared at each other for a few seconds. Then the song changed, some 2000’s song he remembered hearing too often as a teenager, and your smile widened. “Follow me Sarge,” you chuckled, pulling him onto the dancefloor. Logan Sargeant was not a dancer by any means. He wasn’t one to take the spotlight either. 

He didn’t complain about it when it meant you had your hands all over him, and he got to put his hands on you. 

You two were 15 when you got together, and you broke up when you two were 18. 3 years was a long time in teenage years, and you were both crushed, but you were going on tour for the first time, and he was always too busy with racing. You two didn’t talk, or see each other, so you called it quits. There was always love there, you’d always love each other, but it just didn’t work.

“How have you been?” you asked as you danced together. “I’m sorry about Williams.”

He shrugged, pulling you closer. “I’m going to indycar, it’s not like my life is over.”

You smirked. “Exactly,” you spun in his arms.

As the night progressed and you two spent some more time together, you fell into an easy flow of conversation. Spending time with Logan always made you feel at-ease. He was your comfort person. You huddled into his side as you stood outside the bar, trying to keep under the awning as the rain poured.

"Not ideal weather for a race, huh?" you smiled, trying to kill the silence that had fallen on you two in recent moments.

Logan sighed. "I guess not."

"Well, you've always excelled in the wet," you winked as you lit a cigarette and he laughed.

You stayed silent for a moment, all too aware of the way he was staring at you.

“You still think about us?”

You weren’t one to beat around the bush, he admired that. 

He chuckled. “Sometimes,” he shrugged. 

Your eyes widened. “Me too! All the time!” You stamped out your cigarette, your voice excited and bright.

He stopped moving, stopped breathing. “Oh yeah?”

How he was keeping it cool was beyond him. He’d wanted you to say that for his entire adult life. 

You nodded slowly, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Still love you.”

He could’ve fainted. Going out tonight was the best idea Oscar had ever had. “Good,” he smiled, his heart beating out of his chest. “‘Cause I still love you too.”

Your smile widened. “So kiss me.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. 

-------------- When he woke up the next morning, he had a pretty bitching hangover, but also your number, so he wasn’t that upset. Last night had been exactly what he needed, you were exactly what he needed. Someone fun, someone free, and someone completely uninterested in racing. Don’t get me wrong, you liked it, and you watched it, but you didn’t give a shit about the championship or how Logan was doing. You loved Logan, not Logan Sargeant, f1 driver. You’d always been like that. Unconditional.

Then he remembered about the kiss outside the bar, because his mom, your mom, Oscar, Oscar's mom, Lily, Hattie, Alex, Lily, and you were all texting him at the same time, as well as hundreds of thousands of messages from every social media platform.

liked by: pierregasly, oscarpiastri, landonorris, logansargeant

comments

user89: hey so this is insane.

user62: WHY HER AND NOT ME????

-> user69: have u seen her? THAT'S why.

user38: LOGAN LIKED?????

y/ny/l/n: @ logansargeant rue, when was this?

-> logansargeant: 🤷🤷🤷🤷

-> y/ny/l/n: damn I wanted to do it again 🤷

-> logansargeant: YES PLEASE I LOVE YOU

liked by y/ny/l/n

-> landonorris: WTAF U TWO MET LAST NIGHT???

-> oscarpiastri: nah they dated throughout their teenage years

-> logansargeant: exactly, lando no-rizz

user45: WTF HOW DID WE NOT KNOW???

user12: power couple fr

user90: what did he do to deserve THE it girl of the century?

-> logansargeant: no idea 🤷

-> y/ny/l/n: big dick and big heart 🤷

-> yourbff: EWWWWW KEEP IT TO YOURSELF

comments:

logansargeant: photo creds?

-> y/ny/l/n: my virginity back?

-> logansargeant: MY virginity back?

-> y/ny/l/n: touché

comments are disabled.

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Four months on from the bar, you two were still going strong and you were happier than ever. He was doing better mentally, and in races. He'd somehow gotten a Williams up into p6 in quali, and got p5 as a result. When he got out of the car, he ran straight to you and kissed you in front of everyone. It was amazing.

Sadly, Logan's last f1 season finally came to an end in Abu Dhabi, where he fought hard and got his first podium. P2. You'd never been so proud. He stood up there, proving that he wasn't a failure, to himself, and to the world. You'd cried so hard as you watched in the paddock, screaming with joy as he won his first f1 podium.

That night, you two retired to your hotel room, both exhausted.

"You were amazing," you yawned, curling into his chest.

"Well, you're my good luck charm," he chuckled. "You have to be at my first Indycar race-"

"I wouldn't miss it for the world," you promised him. Logan meant everything to you. You were everything to him.

comments:

alexalbon: missing you already man 😭😭😭

-> logansargeant: me too 😭

maxverstappen: you're going to go far in Indycar mate 👍

oscarpiastri: missing you brother :(

-> logansargeant: missing you too :(

danielriccardo: onto bigger and better things brother 🫶

logansargeant: god, you’re so hot. @ y/ny/l/n 🤤

-> y/ny/l/n: so are u 🤤

[97linelover]

Shielding her heart - Jeon Wonwoo

summary: When Jeon Wonwoo becomes embroiled in a scandal that threatens to expose the love of his life, to a ruthless public, he makes the heartbreaking decision to leave her. For Y/N, being with Wonwoo has always meant living in the shadows of his fame, but when the paparazzi uncover her identity, the stakes become dangerously high.

Determined to shield her from the relentless scrutiny and vicious backlash, wonwoo ends their relationship, believing it's the only way to keep her safe. As he navigates the fallout from the scandal alone, Wonwoo is haunted by the love he sacrificed and the woman he left behind.

content: Idol Wonwoo x non Idol reader, fight,angst, happy end,fluff, smut

wc: 3.4 k

a/n: I had a talk with my best friend, we were thinking how hard it must be for idols to keep any kind of relationship a secret. It must be tiring for both parts, not being able to show your love freely.

Standing in the spotlight comes with many negative aspects, but what if the person you love gets hurt in the process?

You and Wonwoo have been dating for about two years. You met during one of his nights out with close friends. Both of you were pretty drunk, and it ended with the two of you making out in the back of a cab.

Normally, Wonwoo would not have called or reached out to you, but as you made breakfast the next morning, dancing through your kitchen in an oversized shirt with some lace panties peeking out, he knew he was hooked.

From then on, the two of you started dating. He wanted you just as much as you wanted him.

He took you out on dates, always delivered flowers to your office, and made sure to spoil you with affection. Wonwoo seemed pretty distant at first, but as you got to know him, you noticed how loving he was.

Jeon Wonwoo made sure to give you all that he had.

At first, you weren’t sure if you could date an idol or if you wanted a secret relationship, but you were so in love with him that you wanted to try. It wasn’t always easy, but it became easier with time. You both knew your little tricks to hide in public.

But today was not like the other days. As you woke up to your phone ringing, you stretched your limbs and yawned while answering the call.

“They found out,” your best friend’s voice said, and your blood ran cold. “Well, good morning to you too,” you tried to lighten the mood. “Y/N, you went to the drive-in movies, and now you’re all over the news. You two are the top news,” you sat up straight.

You suddenly felt sick. “Please tell me this is a joke,” you whispered. “No, love, I think Pledis is trying to remove it, but it’s nearly impossible,” she said with sorrow in her voice.

“I need to call Wonwoo,” you said, panicking, and she agreed.

But you couldn’t reach Wonwoo. The time difference was a problem; they were currently in Glastonbury for their first festival, and he was probably fast asleep by now.

Y/N: Nonu, please call me as soon as possible. Y/N: God, shit is about to go down... they know me now... they know my name... Y/N: I think I’m going to freak out...

You put your phone away, trying to catch your breath, but you felt the panic attack coming like a truck. You made it to the window, and the fresh air helped you calm down, but you also felt panic tears running down your cheek.

Luckily, you could work remotely, so today you stayed at home.

You went on Twitter, and there were two pictures everywhere: one where you two were getting snacks, giggling with each other, and the other clearly showed him kissing you softly. How could you not have noticed?

The day went by in a blur. You could barely focus and were relieved when work was over. You felt your phone vibrating, and when Wonwoo’s name appeared, you didn’t hesitate.

“Nonu,” you breathed, and his voice was raspy; he had been asleep but woke up seeing your messages. “Baby,” he breathed. “Nonu, I’m so confused. I really don’t know what’s happening,” your voice was quiet. “I didn’t see them; I wasn’t careful,” he sighed. “I talked to Jinyoung. He said they’re currently removing it everywhere, but it’s impossible; the fans know,” he tried to be strong.

“What am I supposed to do? Just wait and watch while they rip my life apart until they know everything?” you whined, feeling exhausted.

“You can’t do anything right now, baby. I’ll handle it. Fuck, you don’t know how sorry I am that I’m not by your side right now,” his voice was weak.

“It’s not your fault, love, you know that…” you meant it, but you knew that Wonwoo would blame himself. He always does.

“I need to go, baby. Please be careful. I’ll handle it,” he tried to sound positive. “I love you, Nonu,” you said with a soft smile. “I love you too, baby, more than you can imagine.”

You were excited for Wonwoo to finally be back home again. The situation got out of control at work today; paparazzi were standing in front of the office building, and you got called in for a meeting.

Everything would have been fine if they hadn’t live-streamed everything. Your boss said that under those circumstances, he couldn’t let you work at the moment, so you were now on paid holidays.

Wonwoo was supposed to be home already, but his car wasn’t in his spot. You still decided to cook something simple, just some Kimchi Jjigae.

But even when the clock showed 11 PM, Wonwoo was nowhere to be seen.

You fell asleep in his bed, worry written all over your face.

When the next morning came, you woke up to a text from Wonwoo telling you to come to the Hybe building.

Now you were sure that something was going on. You wasted no time, hurrying towards the Hybe building. You were directly guided to the right floor.

You could see Wonwoo’s red hair that he had freshly dyed, through the glass window. He had his black glasses on and an oversized hoodie. He looked so tired that you just wanted to hug him.

Next to him were Cheol and Gyu, and they all looked exhausted.

You knocked carefully and then entered the room. All eyes were on you except your boyfriend's, who just looked down like he was ashamed.

“Morning,” you said quietly, and Jinyoung looked at you. “Good morning, Y/N. Sit down, please,” he gestured towards the empty seat opposite Wonwoo.

You sat down with Joshua next to you.

“I want to keep it quick and simple, Y/N. After those pictures came out, Wonwoo lost about 1M followers, and the new single with Jeonghan was found thrown away. This entire thing was the worst that could have happened,” you gasped because you didn’t know about that. “Wonwoo tried to help us, but the fans want a statement. This statement will go live in about 15 minutes, so we wanted you to know that the decision is final.”

“What decision?” you whispered, looking for help between the members. “That Wonwoo wants to break up, that there will no longer be a relationship, and that we will post that this was the first and only meeting the two of you ever had,” Jinyoung said. You felt your heart stand still.

“This is not true, right?” you asked, fiddling with the pen in front of you.

“This is for your and his safety,” he said, and you scoffed. “What do you know about my safety? Do you know that I was crowded at my workplace? That they found my parents’ restaurant? That they even stabbed the tires of my car?” you looked at Wonwoo, hoping for a response.

He looked up, his eyes filled with worry. “Are you okay?” his voice was raspy, but you just shrugged. “I don’t know if you really care,” you looked at Jinyoung, feeling fragile and small. “So that means, I’ll leave this room and never talk to him again?”

“That would be better. I know this will be hard, but if they spot you again, they won’t believe in Wonwoo’s honesty ever again,” he sighed, and you felt the tears. “Because he is not honest. This wasn’t just one time; it’s two years he will throw away, two years of love, of sharing important moments,” you sobbed, looking back at Wonwoo. “You will still lie to your fans. You will break me and yourself. But if this is what you want, we can do that,” you whispered.

“I already signed, Y/N,” he said, looking at the papers. “And you need to sign these NDAs.” A choked sob escaped you. “You really make sure nobody knows about us,” you felt like this was a sick joke.

“Y/N, I do this for you, for your safety,” he pleaded, and you shook your head. “You do this for yourself, Wonwoo, for your image. You’re not thinking about me right now!” you raised your voice. “You promised me to handle this, and this was the easiest way, pretending we never happened.”

The other members just watched. Joshua took your hand, trying to calm you down. “Maybe we should’ve never happened in the first place, Y/N,” Wonwoo said, and your eyes widened. You gasped, feeling yourself begin to shake.

“Don’t say something you’ll regret later,” Cheol said to Wonwoo.

You took the pen, signed the NDA, and got up. “I thought we were endgame, Wonwoo. I thought I found the man who would burn for me. But after all, you’re just running along the easy path.”

You must have looked like a madwoman, sobbing like that. “From now on, I’ll pretend you never owned my heart.” You handed Jinyoung the paper and rushed out of the door. “Y/N,” Wonwoo’s voice followed you towards the elevator.

“You need to believe me. I did this for you,” he said behind you, and you stepped into the elevator. “I wish I could, but this meeting changed my view on you. After all, you’re just an idol who would do anything for the perfect image,” he gulped at that.

You were right, that´s exactly how this seems.

I’ll pack your things and place them in the garden. I will never enter your apartment again. I left some things there yesterday; you can just throw them away. I didn’t think today would end like this,” you said as the door closed.

The journey home was a blur. You felt like throwing up the entire time. Your heart felt so heavy that you just wanted to scream.

You could only lay in your bed and cry. And as you saw the new Pledis update, you knew that this was not a fever dream:

‘Hello, this is Pledis Entertainment, We would like to inform you of some updates regarding the recent scandal involving our member, Wonwoo. He was recently spotted having a night out with a woman, leading to rumors that the two are dating. Wir möchten diese Gerüchte dementieren. Wonwoo ist im Moment mit niemandem zusammen; Dieses Treffen war ein einmaliges Ereignis. We ask for respect and privacy for the individuals involved. If we receive any reports of stalking or violence, we will not tolerate it. Thank you.’

You deleted the Weverse app in an instant, along with all your social media accounts, including Instagram.

You wanted to end this chapter of your life with a clean cut. Even if it hurt, maybe one day this wound would close again.

Two days later, when you saw a message from Wonwoo telling you that he had packed your things and you could collect them anytime, followed by an “I miss you,” you hovered over the block button. You hesitated for a moment but then pressed it.

You slumped down in your chair, sobbing once again.

This chapter was over.

The days that followed were a haze of sorrow and confusion. Each morning felt heavier than the last as you grappled with the aftermath of what had transpired. You avoided any mention of Wonwoo, refusing to engage with news or social media that might remind you of him. Every corner of your apartment seemed haunted by memories, making it difficult to find peace even in your own space.

Work became your hiding spot—a place where you could bury yourself in tasks and momentarily forget the pain. Yet, the public scrutiny persisted, with curious glances and whispered conversations following you wherever you went. Colleagues offered sympathetic smiles, unsure of what to say or how to comfort you.

After all they were just happy that they were not getting crowded anymore.

One evening, as you sat at your kitchen table drinking a lukewarm cup of tea, a knock on the door startled you. It was an unexpected visitor at this hour, and your heart skipped a beat, hoping it wasn't who you feared it might be. You cautiously approached the door, peering through the peephole before cautiously opening it.

Standing before you was not Wonwoo, but your best friend, who had been your rock through all the highs and lows of your relationship. She enveloped you in a warm embrace, her presence offering a small measure of comfort amidst the chaos.

"I brought ice cream," she said softly, holding up a tub of your favorite flavor. "Thought we could have a girls' night in. Thought you could need it right now"

You managed a weak smile, grateful for her understanding without needing to explain. Together, you walked to the couch, sharing memories and laughter that momentarily lifted the weight from your shoulders. She was what you needed right now.

As the hours passed, she gently broached the subject that weighed heavily on both your minds.

"Have you thought about what's next?" she asked, her voice filled with concern.

You sighed, staring at the television screen playing a mindless show in the background. "I don't know. I can't even think about it without feeling... empty. Like something is missing."

She nodded in understanding, placing a comforting hand on your knee. "You don't have to decide now. Just focus on taking care of yourself. You´re well being is the priority here right now."

You hugged her, telling her how grateful you are for her.

Days turned into weeks, and slowly, you began to piece together a new routine—a life that didn't revolve around Wonwoo or the whirlwind romance that had captivated and ultimately shattered your heart. You leaned on friends and family for support, finding peace in their unwavering presence.

One afternoon, while browsing through a local bookstore, a familiar voice called out your name. Startled, you turned to find Jake, a Colleague from your past—someone you hadn't seen since before Wonwoo entered your life.

"Y/N, right?" he asked with a warm smile. "It's been ages. How have you been?"

The conversation flowed effortlessly, filled with ,memories of old times and updates on each other's lives. It was refreshing to connect with someone outside the tumultuous world you had left behind. Jake was also pretty funny and you liked talking to him.

As you parted ways, he handed you a slip of paper with his number scribbled on it. "If you ever want to grab coffee or just talk, give me a call," he said kindly.

You tucked the paper into your pocket, a glimmer of hope flickering in your heart. Perhaps there was life beyond the shadows of your past—a future waiting to be discovered, one step at a time. Maybe a love after Wonwoo was possible.

But you felt Idiotic, you graved Wonwoo.

Weeks had passed since you had last seen or heard from Wonwoo. The pain had dulled into a persistent ache, but you were slowly regaining your footing in a life that no longer included him. You had started to believe that perhaps this was the closure you needed to move forward.

One evening, as you returned home from work, you found a bouquet of flowers at your doorstep. Your heart skipped a beat as you recognized the handwriting on the card—a familiar one that had once brought you joy and comfort.

The card simply read, "Can we talk? - Wonwoo."

Conflicted emotions surged within you. Part of you wanted to ignore it, to continue healing and moving on. But another part—the part that still held onto love and hope—wanted closure, wanted to hear him out.

Against your better judgment, you found yourself dialing his number. The one you first needed do unblock. He picked up on the second ring, his voice tentative yet filled with longing.

"Y/N," he breathed. "I didn't think you'd call." his voice was so familiar to you, that you felt like screaming.

"Why did you send me flowers, Wonwoo?" you asked, your voice steady despite the storm of emotions raging inside you. You were everything but calm at the moment.

"I... I needed to see you," he admitted, his voice cracking with emotion. "Can we meet? Please?"

After some hesitation, you agreed to meet him at a quiet café that held memories of happier times, the one you always went to at night when no one was around. As you sat across from each other, the weight of unspoken words hung in the air.

His hair has gotten longer, messier. His Glasses were also new, he probably broke his last ones again, a habit of his.

He looked tired, like he did after comebacks.

"I'm sorry, Y/N," Wonwoo began, his eyes pleading for forgiveness. "I made a terrible mistake. I let fear and pressure dictate my actions, and I hurt you in the process. I never should have let you go."

His words were honest, and for the first time since the betrayal, you saw the vulnerability beneath his composed look. His words stirred a tumult of conflicting emotions within you—anger, hurt, and a flicker of lingering love.

"Why now, Wonwoo? It´s been months" you asked, searching his eyes for answers.

He took a deep breath, reaching across the table to hold your hands in his. "I've been a wreck without you. Seeing you move on... it made me realize how much I need you in my life. I can't bear the thought of losing you."

You pulled your hands away gently, needing space to process his words. "What about your career? The fans? The things that broke us in the first place"

"I don't care about any of that if it means losing you," he said honest and desperate. "I'll do whatever it takes to make things right, Y/N. I'll fight for us."

His declaration stirred something deep within you—a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, you could find a way to rebuild what was lost. But doubts lingered.

"What about her?" you asked quietly, referring to the new Woman you had met recently, after you visited Vernons release party. "Are you sure it's me you want?"

Wonwoo's expression softened, regret etched in his features. "I was jealous, Y/N. Seeing you with someone else made me realize how much I took you for granted. You're the one I want, the one I love. The only one I´ve ever loved"

Silence enveloped the café as you processed his words. The wounds were still raw, but a part of you yearned to believe in his sincerity—to believe in second chances.

"I don't know if I can trust you again, Wonwoo," you finally admitted, your voice wavering with emotion.

He nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. "I understand. But please, give me a chance to show you. I'll prove to you that things can be different this time. I'll be there for you, Y/N, every step of the way. I already told Jinyoung that I don´t care about the consequences, I only want you back "

As you sat there, thinking about the past and of the future, a part of you softened. You saw the remorse in Wonwoo's eyes, felt the depth of his love despite everything that had happened.

Maybe, just maybe, love was worth fighting for.

In the weeks that followed Wonwoo's heartfelt apology and plea for a second chance, you cautiously allowed him back into your life. Despite lingering doubts and the fear of history repeating itself, his consistent efforts to prove his commitment slowly chipped away at your defenses.

However, the path ahead was far from smooth. He still was an Idol, fans took the Dating reveal of their Bias not very well. Every public outing together landed on Twitter and in genereal Social. The hate comments on social media intensified, criticizing your every move and questioning your worthiness of Wonwoo.

One particularly harsh article surfaced, dissecting your relationship with ruthless scrutiny. Tears streamed down your face as you scrolled through the hurtful comments, feeling exposed and vulnerable.

What if they are right? What if you´re not enough for him?

After all you´re just an average girl which is in love with an Idol.

Wonwoo found you curled up on the couch, trembling with tears streaming down your face. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close as you buried your face in his chest, seeking comfort in his warmth.

"I can't take this anymore, Wonwoo," you sobbed, your voice muffled against his shirt. "Why can't they just leave us alone?"

He held you tighter, his own frustration evident. "I'm sorry, Y/N. I hate seeing you like this. But please, don't let them get to you. They don't know us."

You looked up at him, searching his eyes for reassurance. "Do you really think we can make this work, despite everything?"

Wonwoo cupped your face in his hands, his gaze unwavering. "I know it won't be easy, but I want to try. I love you, Y/N, more than anything. And I'll fight for us, no matter what."

His words echoed in your heart, sending a flicker of hope amidst the storm of doubt. Slowly, tentatively, you leaned into his touch, seeking comfort in his embrace.

That night, as emotions ran high and the weight of their struggles bore down on them, you found solace in each other's arms. It was a tender, vulnerable moment—the feeling of longing, forgiveness, and the shared desire to rebuild what had been broken.

Wonwoo made sure to let you know how much he loved you, how much he cherished you and how much he graved you.

The night was like no other and you were grateful it happened.

As the morning light filtered through the curtains, you woke to find Wonwoo still beside you, his fingers intertwined with yours. His presence was a calm feeling within your heart.

"We can do this, Y/N," he whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "Together."

And in that fragile, hopeful moment, you dared to believe that love could conquer the challenges ahead—that perhaps, against all odds, your love story will find its way back to happiness.

[w2sology]

harry, private but not secret relationship.

(i hope u understand what i mean 😭)

i know exactly what you mean and i LOVE this type of trope so so much 🤭

under the sheets, harry lewis.

summary: everyone knows that you and harry are together, yet no one really knows what goes on in your relationship. but when fans get little snippets, they can't help but fawn over you both.

warnings: mentions of sex

having been together since before harry had started youtube, all his friends knew you, and of your status as his girlfriend. but with his rapid incoming fame, you thought it would be better to shy away from the spotlight.

and of course, harry respected this. but he was still gonna let people know that he was in a relationship.

it started off with small mentions of you in his videos. "my girlfriend got me this the other day... my girlfriend said that... i know my girlfriend would like to..." but never fully dropping your name.

everyone knew you were together, but hardly anything about your relationship was ever revealed unless harry said something or if the boys mentioned you briefly.

whether or not you had a public account on socials varied, you liked to switch between public and private.

harry, bot being the average active social media user, would hardly post things. yet most of the time when he did, it would always correspond to you.

a snap of a restaurant with your plate opposite his, a walk in the park with a dog you were dog sitting, your leg just about in the frame, or if he was bold enough, a mirror pic that you took, your face covered by your camera but his fully visibly as he stared lovingly at you through the mirror.

slowly but surely, you would join in too on the secret snapshots into your relationship.

it would start with a post on your story of a picture you took on harry's phone whilst he was on set with the boys, and it was clearly his phone because of how fucked up it was. then it would progress to making tiktoks while wearing clothes that were so obviously his.

it was cute to see you two showing bits of each other online whilst not giving away too much, but god did it have fans dying for more.

when thy'd run into you two in public, you found it so cute that they'd take the time to speak to you as well as harry, even if you'd shy away so as to not interrupt them and harry.

but harry would still have you close by; a fan once posted a selfie that they took with him, and his hand furthest away from their body could be seen in the corner of the picture still intertwined with yours.

when harry was on twitch, streaking either by himself of with his friends, you'd occasionally peak inside the room to check on him, not realising that you were on camera.

one time, you were so tired when you cane back from work that all you wanted to do was lay in bed with harry, but when you figured out he was streaming, you figured his arms would suffice.

so you quietly opened the door to his room, and found yourself snuggling into his arms. harry was surprised, probably putting two and two together and realising that you didn't really care what was on camera, and so returned your embrace. that stream absolutely rocked people's worlds.

and the dates !!! the dates would be the cutest things EVER. he didn't mind going all out but he also wasn't against the occasion cosy date indoors.

on the odd time you did get out, of course there would be pictures and videos of you two sitting in close proximity in a cosy booth at a restaurant, both you all smiles and harry not being able to take his hands off of you.

and if there was one thing about harry, he loved physical touch.

it pained him to not be all over you in public because you didn't want to showcase your relationship like that, but he still found a way to make sure he was either near you or touching you.

be that a hand on your thigh under the table or linking your pinky fingers together when you stood near him.

and the way he'd kiss you; he'd look at you to make sure it was okay to do so before gently placing his lips on yours, pulling you in closer to him.

and even though he can hear simon and toby's shouts of "ew" or "look at those lovebirds" he simply waves them off whilst you hide your face in his chest.

harry loved to have you as his little secret thing, it gave him an even bigger energy rush than he usually had; the idea of being caught was just so exciting to him.

like when he rocks up to filming with a few hickies around his neck, unable to have covered them with his compression shirt that he mistakenly wore.

the comments under that video were enough to you have you covering your face when harry brought it up, as well as the digs that the boys took at you and harry apparently "going at it like animals."

but harry didn't care, it was the best part of the relationship and he got to keep it all to himself, unless he slipped up in front of the camera that was.

[dixons-sunshine]

Sweetest | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary: Wounded and benched from runs for the week, Daryl was asked to watch the kids in the prison while you and some of the others worked on repairing a breach in one of the fences. One of the kids asked Daryl how he met you, his wife, and it made for a rather sweet tale.

Genre: Fluff.

Era: Prison, pre season 4.

Part of the Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams AU.

Warnings: None.

Word count: 1.6k.

A/n: This turned out worse than I hoped, better than I expected. I don't really know how to explain it, but I hope you like this! (Thank you @ddamm and @dixondystopia for giving me your favourite moments from the entire series to add to this! They were pretty much the same, so great minds truly do think alike, as they say.)

“Mr Dixon?”

At the sound of his name being called, Daryl looked up from his baby girl and locked eyes with a little girl—Mika, he believed her name was—who was staring at him with a big smile. “Yeah?” he replied, slightly bouncing his knee when Hazel began fussing a little.

Mika giggled slightly, sharing a look with her sister, Lizzie, before turning back to the archer. “Mrs Dixon is your wife, right?” she inquired, bouncing slightly on her feet.

Daryl's lips involuntarily twitched up at the mere mention of you. He nodded and shrugged his shoulders. “Yeah? Why do ya ask?”

“Well, my dad likes to talk about how he met my mom. Mr Greene has told us how he met his last wife a million times. We wanna know how you met Mrs Dixon!”

Almost as if for added emphasis, the other children all perked up and voiced their interest in knowing the tale of how Daryl met you, his beautiful wife. The archer, both amused by the children's nosiness and embarrassed by the metaphorical spotlight he was placed under, let out a small scoff and adjusted Hazel in his arms, allowing the small girl to happily toy with his fingers. “It ain't some big love story or nothin'. It'll only bore ya.”

“No, it won't,” Carl added from his position atop one of the tables. The teenager had been sulking because Rick had forbade him from helping fix the breach in the fence—where several walkers had managed to crawl through—but the chance of getting to know some insight to one of the most talked about couples in the prison brightened his mood somewhat. You and Daryl were the only couple that dated back before the outbreak, and everyone was eager to know how the two of you got together, and how you managed to keep that spark alive. “We wanna know. Come on, Daryl. Please.”

Daryl let out a small groan and rolled his eyes at the young Grimes' insistence. “Why dun' y'all go pester Glenn or somebody? M'sure he'd be more than happy to tell y'all 'bout how he met Maggie.”

“But he's told us that story a zillion times already,” one of the kids groaned. “We wanna hear your story. Please, Mr Dixon.”

Daryl let out a deep sigh. From somewhere behind him, he could hear Carol chuckle, closely followed by the chuckles of a few of the adults that were taking a break from their chores around the prison. Daryl shook his head and pursed his lips. “Y'all really wanna hear?” Almost instantly, all of the kids perked up and simultaneously voiced their clear interest, trying to talk over the other. Daryl raised his eyebrows and let out a small chuckle. “Woah, calm down. I ain't sayin' nothin' 'til y'all quiet down.” And just like that, it got so quiet, one could hear a pin drop. “Y/n and I go back many years, long 'fore all'a y'all kids were born. We're closin' in on three decades'a knowin' one another.”

“Thirty years?” Carl voiced in a disbelieving tone. “That's basically forever!”

Daryl chuckled and shrugged. “Guess ya can say tha', yeah.” Daryl shushed Hazel when she began fussing a bit, lightly tickling her stomach to coax a laugh from her. “We met when we were twelve, 'side this river in the woods outside the trailer park we lived in. I admit, I didn't know wha' to think'a her at first. Refused to talk to her fer a whole month, but she never gave up. She kept pesterin' me 'til one day, somethin' happened and I broke my quiet facade. Tha's when we started becomin' friends.” Daryl stopped and tried to hide the smile that spread across his face, but to no avail. “She, uh... She quickly became my best friend after tha'.”

“When did you start love-liking her?” one of the kids asked with a giggle, closely followed by the mischievous laughter of the other kids.

Daryl hummed and shrugged. “After she did somethin' fer my sixteenth birthday. I liked her fer a while 'fore tha', but tha' occasion was my wake-up call. My feelin's fer her slapped me righ' in the face tha' day.” He stopped and let out a small sigh before continuing. “I didn't have the balls to confess to her fer 'nother year after tha'. And when I did confess, it was righ' after we went and bought pa—” Daryl cut himself off, painfully aware of the immature teenage boys that would freak out over the mere mention of pads. Because of that, he altered the truth a little. “...Pasta fer dinner tha' nigh'. Things escalated and we kissed, and then her mom walked in.”

“No,” Beth gasped, slightly tightening her grip on Judith as she thought of the embarrassing scenario.

Daryl chuckled and shrugged. “It was embarrassin' as shi—crap, tha's fer sure, but we lived. Her mom was nice 'bout it all. Definitely didn't mean we could escape her teasin', though.” He pursed his lips as he thought of that moment, the embarrassment still fresh in his mind, even all those years later. “Her teasin' got even worse when Y/n and I eloped. She was kinda upset 'bout it, but she soon went straight back to teasin' us fer not bein' able to wait to have a proper weddin'.”

By that point, unbeknownst to the archer, the group that had been working on fixing the fence—a group that included you—had silently stepped into the part of the prison everyone was in to alert the kids to the fact that they could go play. However, once they heard what the crossbow-wielding man was talking about, they stopped and remained quiet, eager to hear about it all. And you stayed quiet as well, quite shocked that your husband was willingly telling stories about his past with you. He preferred to keep that part of his life private, but there he was, happily talking away. It made your heart swell with love and affection for the man.

“The two of you stayed together for all those years?” Zach—Beth's boyfriend—asked, leaning against the wall. When Daryl nodded, he continued. “How?”

Daryl shrugged and adjusted his daughter in his arms again, feeling her head begin to droop as she was beginning to fall asleep. “I love 'er. And fer some reason I still don't understand 'til this day, she loves me. Ain't tha' hard to stay committed to the person ya love the most. Relationships ain't always all sunshines and rainbows, but when yer with the person ya love, s'all worth it. Y/n taught me tha'. She's the sweetest person ever. I dun' know wha' I did to deserve her, but I thank my lucky stars every day tha' I get to call her mine.”

It went silent after that. The only sound that could be heard was the distant sound of walkers groaning outside the fences. That is, until Rick spoke up from behind the huntsman, startling him and alerting him to the fact that essentially everyone had heard him practically rave about you.

“Well said, brother. Well said,” Rick complimented him, a faint, teasing smile on his face. He turned towards the younger ones in the group and gestured towards the door. “Y'all can go play now. Just stay away from the fences.” And just like that, all the kids—except Carl—had forgotten their need to hear about Daryl's love story with you. They all excitedly darted out the door, their laughter fading as they disappeared out the doors.

Michonne smirked, playfully hitting you on the back. “Y/n, you never told me you found such a keeper. And you found him early on, too. You're so lucky.”

“Yeah, she is,” Carol chipped in, a teasing smile on her face as well. “Did I ever tell you about this one guy in our old camp that insulted her and Daryl instantly put him on his ass? He did accidentally reveal her pregnancy while doing so, but that's besides the point.”

“Was it Shane?” Rick asked, sighing when Carol nodded. “Yeah, of course it was,” he mumbled while he shook his head.

“Not to mention how he nearly killed Jenner because he wouldn't let us out—well, wouldn't let them out. He didn't care much for us back then. We all know he only wanted the doors open so that Y/n was safe,” Glenn piped in.

“Aw,” Michonne cooed teasingly. “That is so sweet, Daryl. You're just a big teddy bear.”

Daryl ducked his head in embarrassment as the others joined in on the teasing as well. He could feel his cheeks flush, and he would've gotten up and bolted from the embarrassing situation, had it not been for the fact that Hazel had just fallen asleep, and he didn't want to wake her.

The feeling of your hand being rested on his shoulder almost instantly made him calm down, your familiar touch bringing a sense of comfort to him. The rest of the group were to busy relaying their favourite moments they had seen between the two of you to notice this interaction, and the archer was glad about that. He was also glad that they couldn't hear what you whispered in his ear, because although Daryl Dixon wasn't a selfish man, the others didn't have to hear these words you clearly meant just for him:

“I'm proud of you. You climbed out of your shell today and did something I know you don't always enjoy doing. You're amazing, Daryl Dixon, and I love you so much.” You placed a soft, tender kiss on his cheek. “You really are the sweetest person ever.”

©dixons-sunshine 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified, adapted or translated to any other site or platform without evidence of my given consent.

[101maverick]

Damian Wayne Ah Ghul with a reader who is super shy? Like she meets his family and she's practically hiding behind Damian? No pressure, but I'm just a naturally shy person myself.

A/n: I've been thinking of a meeting like this for a while now! tho in my daydreams the reader is a lot more bubbly and stuff, but this one is super fun too! I think I might write them both out :) When it comes to Damian I tend to envision him around his canon age (12ish I think?) because it gives me agency to explore puppy love and I find it so cute! Plus I'm a sucker for school shenanigans hehe🤭 Here Damian is around 15-16 :) Hope you enjoy!! If you like my work, please consider reblogging and checking out my other works through the master list in my pinned post<3

Word count: 1642

Meeting the Family

Your hands are clammy.

Not even overtly so, just enough to make you uncomfortable, to get that unbearable out-of-place sensation one always gets when something's slightly wrong and it feels like life has decided to point a spotlight to it.

You nervously adjust your dress' skirt, fiddling with the hem to make sure it sat at just the right height. You had spent an embarrassing amount of time picking it out, having Damian come by your house earlier than necessary to make sure your choice was appropriate for this occasion, along with your hair and what little makeup you had decided to put on.

He had assured you countless times that you 'could never be anything less than far above standard' , and while that did put you at ease you still have to do your best to relax as you build up the courage to enter the house, Damian waiting by your side.

You and Damian had started 'dating' around three months ago now, and this was your first time meeting his family.

Whenever you think back to how he proposed to you a chuckle curls your lips upward, remembering how out of your depth you felt as he announced his intent of 'courting' you while he held a baby kitten out to you.

The memory loosens you up a bit, and you nod to Damian, who rings the doorbell. He's been holding your hand the whole time, something you find extremely sweet. He gives your hand a squeeze.

Sooner than you'd like, the door opens and you are greeted by the Wayne family's butler, who your boyfriend had informed you is basically like a grandfather figure for them.

He’s an older man, standing tall in a prim and creaseless suit despite his age. His eyes crinkle as the corners of his mouth uptick just the slightest bit, remaining composed as he greets you two.

“Ah, Master Damian, you have finally returned with our guest I see.” He says, looking at your boyfriend. He then turns to you. “My name is Alfred Pennyworth. It is a pleasure to finally meet you, miss…” he trails off.

You can feel your cheeks burn up, and your tongue tangles up as you haste to give him your name. You try to downplay the stutter as much as you can, and rush through the rest of greetings and pleasantries. “It is very nice to meet you as well, mr. Pennyworth.”

Mr. Pennyworth just nods curtly and opens the door wider, making space for you and Damian to enter. "I am glad, miss. Please, follow me to the sitting room." After a nod from Damian, he turns around and starts walking down the hallway to the left of the grand staircase the Manor's foyer opens up to.

The ceiling is extremely tall in this part of the house, two stories high at the very least. The ancient mahogany of the staircase is intricately carved, and the deep, rich blue-green carpet covering the steps gives the entire ensemble a much more regal look, with the way it matches the curtains that are pulled apart to let in all the midday light from the six-feet tall arch windows. It feels way too regal for someone like you.

Damian, on the other hand, looks completely in his element. Not only is this his house, he just fits in with this sort of environment, this regal, sophisticated, high-class one. The blue-green of the curtains and carpets makes the emerald of his eyes pop, and the dark mahogany compliments his tanned skin, reflecting the golden glow of the sun.

Looking at him, you feel a bit surer of yourself, and you straighten your shoulders to match his stance. You're just meeting his family. You can do this.

Mr. Pennyworth leads you to the sitting room. Damian's entire family is lounging there, the majority sitting up while a few rest on the plush couches and chairs. The moment you step foot in the doorway, all conversation stops and all eyes turn toward you.

You can't do this.

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Each of the Wayne family members are here, it seems, and the more you stand there the more you want to crawl out of your skin.

All of these people have been gathered here today for a family lunch because you have come over, and dang if that doesn't make you feel like the inconvenience of the year.

Only a fool doesn't know about how important each of them is, and you certainly aren't one.

Richard "Dick" Grayson, world-class acrobat and notorious heartthrob since his teens, and he surely has better places to be today than here. Keeping up with all of his connections is basically a full-time job, with how Gotham socialites are.

Jason Todd, recently come back from his years-long trip around the world, could be playing golf with the Prince of England right now instead of meeting his youngest brother's high-school girlfriend.

Timothy Drake, at nineteen is C.E.O. of Drake Industries and Bruce Wayne's representative for Wayne Enterprises, right now he could be closing billion-dollar business deals.

Duke Thomas, had graduated from high school at sixteen and at eighteen is in the most prestigious chemistry program in the Continent, he could be studying for the cure of cancer right now.

Cassandra Cain, Bruce Wayne's only daughter and an extremely elusive person for the media, you're sure she'd much rather a virtual stranger wasn't snooping around in her family's home.

There are also two other people, a red-haired woman that looks to be around Dick Grayson's age and a blonde girl around nineteen.

And, of course, there's Bruce Wayne in the flesh. Billionaire, philanthrope, C.E.O. of Wayne Enterprises, arguably the most important person in Gotham and certainly the richest person in New Jersey. One of his charities is always in sight every time you turn a corner on the street in Gotham Proper, his company's name is plastered on almost every single electronically device you can find, and his name is always in the mouth of the press, making headlines day in-day out.

Oh Gosh, you can already imagine it. 'Lowly peasants thinks she can date his son, Brucie Wayne obliterates her and her dynasty'.

Before you know it, your breathing has become laboured and you're standing pressed to Damian's side, trying to fuse with his shadow.

You have no idea how you're gonna hold a conversation with all of these people.

Damian, bless him, saves you. "If you all could quit ogling my beloved like imbeciles, we could go on with introductions." His chin is held up high, and he takes turns staring into each of his family members' eyes, as if daring them to object. With the way he's standing, his body almost covers you, giving you a blanket of security that allows you to relax.

The rest of the room's occupants regain their composure, and Mr. Wayne breaks out into a blinding smile, coming up to you.

"Pardon me! We just hadn't heard you coming down the hallway is all. It's a pleasure to finally meet you." Mr. Wayne holds out his hand, and you shake it. His grip is gentle. "Come in, please, make yourself comfortable."

Damian guides you to a couch next to which is a window. The rays of sun catch in his dark hair, reflecting almost-blue. He looks at you, and as he does so you relax. Damian may rarely show it but he has an extremely expressive face, and you have learned to read it.

Right now you read sureness in his jaw, calmness in the set of his brow and something warm and reassuring in the slightest widening of his eyes, the one that happens specifically when e tilts his head downwards to fix his gaze better in yours.

"I must admit I've been waiting for this moment for a good while, I was very curious. Damian has talked a lot about you."

Your eyebrows raise. You start fidgeting with Damian's hand in your lap. "Oh, he-he has?" It comes out as a mumble. You'd beat yourself up over it in normal circumstances but as it stands, you're just glad you are talking at all.

This thought is overshadowed by an eruption of laughter from further inside the room.

"Oh yes he has, the brat has been talking our ears off all day for months! By how he talks, he thinks you've hung the moon and the stars in the night sky." A cackle follows the sentence. You're pretty sure your cheeks are on fire.

Next to you, you notice the tips of Damian's ears turn darker. "Quit your complaining, Todd. It is not my fault if everything you do is subpar compared to her every action."

"Da-Damian!" You whisper-yell next to him, "You can't just say that!"

"Oh, don't worry," Pipes up someone from a chair. You recognise him as Timothy Drake. "Seeing as you've put up with him for months, I think we all believe it. It takes the patience of a saint to do that." He says, a slight smirk on his face.

The rising of cackles in the air and the indignant squawk from Damian pull a little giggle from you, and you squeeze Damian's hand while Dick Grayson placates him.

Mr. Pennyworth, who had disappeared down the hallway after you had reached the sitting room, reappears at the entrance. 1679

“Masters, Misses, the lunch is ready. If you may follow me to the dining room…”

“Thank you Alfred.” Says Mr. Wayne, and after a curt nod from the butler everyone files out of the sitting room.

As you take your place next to Damian at the dining table, listening to Damian and Timothy bicker, you feel more at ease than you ever hoped of feeling while waiting on the front steps.

Your hand is warm in Damian’s still.

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A/n: I wish I had been able to put more Damian/Reader interaction in this but in order for it to work in my vision of their eventual relationship I need them to be alone so unfortunately it couldn't happen for this pic :( I do have more Damian x Reader requests in my inbox tho so there's a high chance I'll be able to expand on it! Plus I'm considering making a list of head canons for Damian and Reader's relationship >:)