#I was ready to go gentle into that good night

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　GRAMMYS 2025

chris sturniolo x reader

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

WARNING: None.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by anon.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He looked good.

Really good.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Her eyes rolled.

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

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

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

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

She let out a small, shaky laugh.

"Chris-"

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

That made her laugh, her eyes rolling with amusement.

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

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

"Even if I trip on the carpet?"

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

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

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

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

"Y/N!"

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

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

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

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

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

Harry clicked his tongue.

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

Chris chuckled from behind them.

"Good to see you, Harry."

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

Chris raised his hands in surrender.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Harry smirked, tilting his head as he admired her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chris smirked knowingly.

"Liar."

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

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

The second Y/N emerged, the chaos tripled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And damn, did she own it.

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

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

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

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

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

"Jesus Christ."

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

"Earth to Chris." She teased.

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

The cameras loved them.

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

"You think they got food inside?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Wouldn’t you like to know?"

She rolled her eyes, suppressing a giggle.

"Be serious, Sturniolo."

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

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

Chris chuckled, clearly pleased her reaction.

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

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

"Hm, and what would that be?"

Chris smirked, his fingers flexing at her waist.

"Eat y’out."

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

But before she could fire back, a voice interrupted.

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

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

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

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

Y/N squeezed his fingers, tugging him forward.

"Come on, you menace."

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

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

Emma Chamberlain.

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

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

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

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

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

Emma grinned.

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

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

"That’s me."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh my God, it was chaos."

Chris grinned, nodding while brushing his messy hair back.

"Totally."

Y/N faced Emma again, still giggling.

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

Emma’s eyes widened.

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

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

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

Emma gasped.

"Nick would."

Y/N nodded rapidly.

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

Chris smirked, nodding his head.

"And again. And again."

Emma covered her mouth, delighted.

"So by the fifth time-"

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

Emma dramatically put her free hand against her heart.

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

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

"Me?"

Emma nodded, dead serious.

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

Chris laughed, shaking his head.

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

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

Emma pouted.

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

Chris shrugged, squeezing Y/N’s hand.

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

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

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

Y/N didn’t even hesitate.

"Song of the Year."

Emma’s brows lifted.

"Because...?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chris was quick to approach the microphone again.

"Not if, when."

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

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

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

"You’re killing it, doll."

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

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

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

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

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

"Chris! No way- dude!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Y/N shook her head instantly.

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

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

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

Troye grinned.

"For sure. Enjoy the night, guys."

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

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

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

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

Chris chuckled, his voice low.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"For what?"

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

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

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

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

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

The voice was warm, familiar, and utterly unmistakable.

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

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

Taylor Swift.

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

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

And she was smiling - smiling - at her.

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

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

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

Y/N felt her soul leave her body.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Did that just happen?"

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

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

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

"I need a second."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You’re so winning tonight."

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

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

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

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

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

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

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

Taylor Swift.

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

Chris immediately caught the change in her posture and smirked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Y/N furrowed her brows slightly.

Taylor found her.

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

"Y/N L/N, Midnights."

The world tilted.

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

Album of the Year.

She won.

She won.

Chris, on the other hand, reacted immediately.

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

She wasn’t breathing.

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

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

A broken sob escaped her lips.

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

"You did it."

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

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

And God, the way he was looking at her.

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

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

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

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

And then suddenly, she was there.

Standing at the top.

Face to face with Taylor Swift.

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

Y/N’s breath hitched all over again.

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

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

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

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

She deserved this.

She deserved this.

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

She inhaled deeply. Opened her mouth.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This was real.

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

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

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

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

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

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

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

Trevor continued, his voice filling the grand space.

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

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

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

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

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

"And the Grammy goes to..."

A dramatic pause.

It felt endless. It felt cruel.

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, god. Oh, god.

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

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

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

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

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

But Chris didn’t let her hide.

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

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

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

"Go get your second Grammy, superstar."

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

With each step, she forced herself to breathe.

In.

Out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A simple movement.

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

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

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

The room laughed, the tension easing instantly.

Y/N smiled, shaking her head.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A pause.

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

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

The room was silent.

The world was silent.

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

Chris didn’t move.

Didn’t clap.

Didn’t even breathe for a second.

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

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

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

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

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

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Five nominations.

Five won awards.

She did it.

She had won five Grammys tonight.

She still couldn’t fully process it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh, I think I remember it."

Cole smirked, playing along.

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

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

Chris scoffed, giving her the most offended look.

"Friend my ass."

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

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

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

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

She let out a breathy laugh, adjusting her grip.

"Yeah, I think so."

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chris grinned.

"Oh, it’s already there."

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

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

She couldn’t help it.

This moment was surreal.

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

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

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

Cole barely hesitated, quickly nodding.

"Oh, absolutely! Christopher, hop in!"

Chris blinked.

"Oh, I mean- I wasn’t-"

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

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

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

Song of the Year and Album of the Year.

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

"Doll-"

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

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

"Y/N-"

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

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

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

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

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

She didn’t hesitate.

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

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

But before they could reach the doors-

"Y/N!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

She didn’t flinch. Didn’t react.

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

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

And just like that, she turned, walking away.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Fair enough."

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

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

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

"I feel like I ran a marathon."

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

"You did. An emotional one."

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

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

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

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

"Love you."

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

"Love you more."

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

She let out a thoughtful hum. Five more Grammys.

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

Chris chuckled, shaking his head.

"Already taken care of."

She raised an eyebrow.

"What?"

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

Y/N blinked, her lips parting slightly.

"He-"

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

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

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

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

[aurorawritestoescape]

GIVE ME HELL

Stepdad Joel Miller x f!reader || 1,9 k

part 4 of A Step Into Hell || can be read alone

Summary: you come home drunk and Joel isn’t happy. He decides to teach you a lesson.

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, step-cest, Joel's POV, dub con (alcohol intoxication) but reader's very into it, big legal age gap, dark!Joel, mean!Joel, possessive!joel, jealous!Joel, pussy/cock pronouns, fingering, unprotected piv, creampie, degradation, slut shaming, a lil bit of praise kink, daddy kink, spanking (1), cum eating, mention of alcohol consumption, mention of unplanned pregnancy, swearing. The pics are for the mood only. Reader has no specific physical descriptions but wears a skirt.

A/n: huge thank you to 🎯 anon for the hottest thots😘 I used the schoolgirl skirt idea in this story, it suited the plot perfectly! Kisses to @milla-frenchy for beta-ing and for loving the mf💋I hope you all will enjoy this part! Love you!💞

Dividers by @/saradika-graphics

SERIES MASTERLIST || MASTERLIST

Here you were. Miss ‘I need daddy’s cock to sleep’ came back from a party, looking like a whore. Who was surprised? Not Joel. A tight top was showcasing your gorgeous tits perfectly, a schoolgirl skirt was so short it was barely covering your ass. But what grabbed Joel’s attention immediately was your slightly smudged make up and your glossy eyes. Even in the dim light of the tv illuminating the dark living room Joel could see that you were drunk.

Probably trying not to sway, you purposefully leaned against the doorframe to say hi to your mother, your voice slightly higher than usual.

Joel wasn’t fooled by your act. A mix of rage and arousal set his body and mind on fire.

Drunk slut! Probably dragged your ass home after being groped and rubbed against all night. What if some horny frat boy fucked you?

Joel’s blood started boiling and your mother’s nonchalant attitude to the sight of you made him clench his fists even harder.

You needed to be punished. What wouldn’t he give to bend the whore over his lap and spank your juicy ass and slutty pussy. Fuck! His wife was next to him on the couch.

“How was the party?” she asked you with a smile.

“ ‘s ok. Going to bed. Good night.”

And you turned around and went upstairs. No! Not gonna happen. You weren’t getting out of it so easily.

Joel turned to his wife with his brows furrowed, having put a mask of virtuous concern on his face and hiding his semi with a throw blanket.

“Aren’t you gonna talk to her?”

”What about?”

“Her state? You ok with it?”

Your mother gave him a shrug.

“Yeah, she’s a little drunk but .. she’s been at a party. And she’s old enough to decide for herself whether to drink or not.”

Joel clenched his jaws but then took a deep breath, calming his nerves, and returned his eyes to the tv. Then he mumbled matter-of-factly, feigning his interest in the show,

“Hope ya ready to become a grandma then.”

He saw his wife fidget on the couch. Yeah, now someone was concerned!

“Why? What do you mean?”

“I mean that if you let her behave like that, then wait for her to get knocked up by some blogger or any other unemployed fucker. No college, no career. Doubt your ex’s gonna be happy that she ruined her future right under your nose.”

Joel glanced at his wife and shrugged like she’d done earlier. The naive bitch looked really worried.

Daddy Joel to the rescue!

“Honey, don’t panic. I’ll handle it. Let me talk to her. As a father figure.”

“Really? You’ll do that?” his wife asked with hope in her voice. Joel took her hand and looked into her eyes.

“Of course. I care about her. Very much.”

He wasn’t lying. You were his perfect fucktoy and he took care of the things that belonged to him.

“Don’t be too harsh on her,” his wife said as Joel got up and quickly adjusted his perked up cock.

“I’ll be gentle, don’t worry.”

Of course that was a lie. When Joel came up to your bedroom, he unceremoniously stormed in and locked the door behind him.

You were standing at your desk, smiling at your phone, probably sending out 1000000 slutty selfies from the party all over the internet.

“Hey! You can’t just barge in like that?” you exclaimed, pouting your pretty lips.

Joel placed his hands on his hips and grumbled with a glare,

“Wrong! It’s my house and I can do whatever the fuck I want. You on the other hand —,” he pointed his thick index finger in your direction and barked, ”— can’t!”

“What?” You seemed confused and tired but all Joel cared about at that moment were his heavy balls and stiffening cock, locked and loaded to ruin his stepdaughter’s hole.

” ’m here to have a talk with you.”

You giggled, “What talk? The birds and the bees?”

“Somethin like that,” Joel grunted, taking a step to you, and then pushed you to your desk.

“Joel!” you half whispered, half exclaimed, trying to stop him with your little palms on his chest, but Hurricane Joel couldn’t be stopped. He roughly grabbed your hips and made you sit on the edge of the desk.

“No… Mom’s downstairs…,” you mumbled softly, already melting when he settled between your spread thighs.

”Then be quiet. You can cry a lil. She’ll think you’re really sorry,” Joel sneered, looking down at you. His chest swelled with pride and dominance - he was big and strong and you were just a silly girl, who foolishly thought that she could do whatever she wanted. Hell no!

“Ya think you can come to my house drunk? Lookin like a whore who’s been passed around?”

You averted your eyes in shame, murmuring,

“Mm.. no. Jus’ had a few beers.”

“Did ya have a few cocks too?”

You shook your head before Joel grabbed your chin with two fingers and tilted your face up to look into your dopey eyes.

”You let anyone use you? Which hole? Bet your sexy schoolgirl skirt is soaked with cum.”

“No-no, daddy, I didn’t…”

He slowly glided his palms down over the fabric covering your hips and then pulled your skirt up, exposing your bare cunt.

A deep growl rose from Joel’s chest before he gruffed, his voice ringing with rage,

“Ya went to the fucking party with your cunt out in the open like that? Ready to serve any cock close enough to her?”

Joel's nostrils were flaring, his fists were clenching your skirt, as he was glaring down at you. He must have looked really scary because you widened your eyes and grabbed his thick forearms.

“Oh no-no-no, Joel! I took ’em off just before stepping inside. Like you told me, remember? No panties in the house.”

His dark eyes were darting between yours, searching for any sign of deceit.

“Hope you ain’t lyin to me,” he grunted, burning you with his fiery gaze.

“I swear, daddy.”

That ‘daddy’ really helped your case. Joel got more horny than mad and looked down at your pussy. Without a word he pushed a finger into your hole and you gasped.

“Did ya wet yourself? Or just that needy?” he asked, keeping the finger inside your sopping cunt. ”Who’s all this slick for? Someone at the party caught your eye?”

“No, I… I kept thinking about you, daddy.”

Joel smirked, “Yeah? What were you thinkin?”

“You… you doing things to me.”

“Hnggg,” Joel pulled his finger out of your hole and licked his skin clean with a lopsided grin on his glistening lips.

“You got horny-drunk, yeah, babydoll? Could’ve called daddy. I woulda come down there, dragged you to the bathroom and pumped ya little cunt full.”

“Really?” you asked with a drunk smile, your heart eyes set on Joel’s face.

“Course not, dumb slut. I ain’t drivin god knows where on a Friday night to fuck you. Especially when I know that the pussy is gonna come to me.”

You scrunched your nose and pouted.

“You’re so mean.”

“Ouch, you hurt my feelings!” Joel barked a laugh and roughly grabbed your pussy, making you moan. Then he leaned down to your face, so close your lips were almost touching, and you reached up to him, initiating a kiss, but Joel pulled away and instead squeezed your cheeks with his hand.

“I ain’t kissin your beer hole. And here’s the talk I promised you.”

You pushed his hand away and glared up at him. Your stepdad grabbed the back of your neck with one hand, your pussy with the other and continued,

”Ya got drunk. And drunk girls are always in danger of bein used. I reckon you better learn this lesson at home than at a party full of strangers, uh, sweetie?”

He shook his hand full of your cunt and you whimpered a needy “yeah”.

Then Joel pulled you off the desk and roughly spun you around. You squeaked but didn’t protest. Manhandling you was always easy, like dealing with a rag doll, especially now when you were drunk.

“We don’t have much time so let’s start,” he spit and pushed you down on the desk. In a second your hands were clasped by his hand behind your back, his huge cock bulge pressed to your naked ass, your holes ready for him to use.

“Daddy, fuck me,” you whined needily, wiggling your naked ass, brushing it against his hard-on.

Joel titled his head and grinned. The bitch was really desperate. You’d always been a slut for his dick but the alcohol seemed to have made you extra horny.

“You don’t deserve my cock today, slut, but all this slick can't go to waste”.

Joel let go of your wrists, tugged his sweatpants down and freed his leaking stallion. Then he roughly stabbed you with his length and shoved it to the hilt in one go. You took him easily, your pussy dripping with need for his giant schlong, and moaned into your palm, already fluttering around him. Suddenly, Joel froze.

“Wanna come on daddy’s cock?”

“Yeahhhh.”

“Yeah? Then work for it, baby,” he ordered through gritted teeth, keeping himself from bursting inside you — your cunt felt fucking fantastic as always.

“Daddyyyy…”

Your whine only made Joel laugh. He slapped your asscheek, and growled,

“Move! If your pussy wants the fireworks, ya better ride my horse cock. I ain’t doin shit for you tonight.”

He stood still with his hands holding your hips, his throbbing cock deep to the base inside you, while watching you squirm and almost cry with frustration. You begged him again but Joel didn’t move an inch while all his inches were being soaked by your crying pussy.

Probably having realized that he was serious, clumsily and slowly, on trembling legs, you started moving your body back and forth, exposing Joel’s shaft to his eyes and then swallowing it back with the greedy mouth of your cunt.

“Yeah, sweetie. You doin it, look at ya. Take what you need. Milk him dry, babydoll.”

Joel’s praise seemed to entice you, to inject some energy into your body, and you started fucking yourself with his cock faster and harder. Slapping noises filled the room as your ass was banging against Joel rougher and rougher. Your stepdad dug his fingers into your soft hips, watching you pleasure yourself with his hard cock.

“She’s so thirsty— wants to get drunk on daddy’s hot sperm, uh? — ’ll make her swallow it all to the drop.”

Panting heavily, Joel sounded intoxicated himself while talking about your wet cunt, seeing her rhythmically sucking in his fat length and spitting it out.

“Yeah, daddy. Please.”

“Good girl—,” Joel croaked and began emptying his balls inside you, pouring all his rage and jealousy into your pulsating cunt.

You came right after, almost crying on his exploding cock, pushing your face into your palms to muffle your ecstatic moans.

When Joel filled you full of his cum, he pulled out and stood over you splayed on the desk like a used fuckdoll. He was catching his breath, watching your winking hole drip his creamy jizz, then wiped his cock with your skirt and helped you up.

”If I see you drunk again in my house, I won’t let you come for a month, ya hear me?” Joel roared and you hastily nodded. Then his lips curved into a satisfied smile.

“I’m glad we had this talk.”

He looked you up and down again, shook his head and left the room.

Thank you for reading! Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed the fic!<3

SERIES MASTERLIST || MASTERLIST

Tag list: @milla-frenchy @harriedandharassed @iamasaddie @nervousmumbling @bbyanarchist @stevie75 @puduvallee @auteurdelabre @mountainsandmayhem @senoratess @flamingochick55 @theoraekenslover @schnarfer @mermaidgirl30 @staywildflowahchild @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @evolnoomym @keylimebeag @joelmillerisapunk @pascaltesaye @fruityreads @itwasntimethatdidit40

People who were interested in pt 4, no pressure to read bbs: @sunshineispunk @bonezone44 @mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler-pascal @tateypots

[imsofreakingtired]

Can we PLEASE get an angsty sevika!Xreader headcannon for reader who is a removing shimmer addict and is struggling with cravingssss

omg i love that. also, sorry this took a while, couldn't figure out a way with a hc list so i wrote it as a drabble instead 😭

hold me, console me

content warning(s): depictions of addiction and withdrawal

"come on, don't leave me, it can't be that easy babe if you believe me, i guess i'll get on a plane fly to your city, excited to see your face hold me, console me, and then i'll leave without a trace"

~~~

“Sevika,” you groan, “I’m going to die.” 

“I hope not.”

She walks into the room, twisting off her prosthetic arm. This is a good sign. It means she is ready to settle down with you, that she doesn’t have any plans of leaving again for a while. 

Sevika sits down on the side of the bed where you’re lying with your knees curled against your chest, trying to breathe through wave after wave of pain. She places her warm hand on your thigh and straightens your leg. Her voice is soft. “Stretch, baby. It’ll get easier.” 

What they didn’t tell you about coming off Shimmer: the muscle spasms. The blinding headaches. Your body can’t adjust to the sudden drop in energy after such intense and constant enhancement of the senses. It is recoiling at normality. It is punishing itself for ever getting hooked in the first place. 

You can deal with the physical symptoms, though. You’ve been through some shit. You’re tough enough to handle a little pain. What you can’t stand are the cravings, the nightmares, the paranoia. You wake up several times a night in a cold sweat, shaking uncontrollably after some terrifying, nonsensical dream. You break down at the most inconvenient times, convinced that Sevika has finally gotten sick of you, that she’s leaving you, that she’s already gone. On really bad days you’re ready to kill for just one shot, one tiny vial, just to take the edge off. You crave the kick, the rush of heat in your head, the burst of energy. The feeling that you can do anything. Even as it killed you slowly, even as you felt the aftereffects eroding your body. You know in the back of your mind that the decision to quit has saved your life. But gods, was it hard to stay off it. 

Sevika watches your face with gentle eyes as she massages your legs. Her big hand, rough with calluses, powerful and tender. She is strong even without Shimmer. When you were using it, you felt almost like you deserved her, that you belonged to her—that you could repay her even a little for what she did for you. 

Now you look up at her and wonder what she sees first—the traces of Shimmer, the faded pink veins lining your skin? The desperation in your eyes? The way your limbs lie, depleted and scarred from the past use of the substance? 

“Sevika,” you say.

“Hmm.”

“Do you miss it?”

“Miss what?”

“Me when I was on it.” You shift on the bed, your head feeling heavy. “You know…you know how I fucked like you never saw before when I was on it.” You mean it to be a joke, but you can’t bring yourself to smile. This is your fear: that she met you when you weren’t quite yourself, that she’s disappointed in the person you actually turned out to be. 

She’s quiet for a moment. Then she asks in a low voice, “do you think I was with you because of the way Shimmer made you in bed?”

“I’m useless now,” you say. You feel the tears burning behind your eyes, and you’re ashamed of the way your voice falters. “I can’t even lift a full crate of bottles.” 

Sevika moves closer to you. You push yourself away, not because you don’t want her to touch you, but because you don’t want her pity. You dread some words of nonsense flattery, empty reassurance. You don’t want her to lie to you, then turn her back, the way countless others have done before. It was part of the reason why you started using Shimmer in the first place—so you could feel, for once in your life, that you were powerful—someone people wanted to stay for. 

She doesn’t say anything of the sort, though. You’re lying on your side now, back turned to her so you can’t see her face. 

She says, “get over here, idiot.” 

You turn your head. She lies down beside you, aligning her body close against yours. The heat of her skin feels good against your aching back. She wraps her right arm over your waist, pulling you close to her. 

Into your shoulder she murmurs, “you’re not useless.” 

The tears gather in your eyes and you can’t stop them from falling into the bedsheets. 

“It’ll get easier,” she says again. She brushes your hair away, kisses your neck. “And I’m always gonna want you.” 

“How did you do it?” you whisper. “It must have been so much worse for you.” 

“Baby, does this body look like it’s built the same way as yours?” 

You laugh weakly. 

“It was hell,” Sevika says. “So I get it.” 

You reach for her hand and hold it close to your heart. “It’s still beating, right?” You ask. 

“Yes, thank god.” 

“You’re not leaving, right?” 

“No, fool. Get some rest.” 

You let your eyes close. Your breathing grows even. Sevika is not a woman of many words, but you know that when she makes a promise she will keep it.

~~~

thank you @prettyinpink69 for the req :)

[wqnwoos]

cw — alcohol mentions, reader wears makeup

you’re drunk and you’re annoyed, which is never a good combination, because it makes it that much harder for jeonghan to take you home. 

more specifically, you’re annoyed with him, which you’d told him through slightly slurred words and a finger to his chest the moment you saw him at seungcheol’s birthday party.

(“i’m really pissed,” you’d announced, and clarified, “at you. yoon jeonghan.” and then had returned to the party like you didn’t just make his heart sink to his stomach.)

jeonghan can think of two reasons why you’d be annoyed at him. one — you’ve worked out that he was the one who ate your favourite snack during movie night with your friends last week. or two — you’re mad about what happened yesterday.

to be honest, he knows which one it is, because there’s no way you worked out he ate your sour patch kids. he planted the evidence on seungkwan. but more than that, he’s focussed on trying to get you through the door of your apartment, so he stores the thought for later, and grabs your flailing arm to walk you inside.

“i’m not drunk,” you say, the moment your front door is shut. you scowl at him. “so you can go home now.”

jeonghan only sighs a little, reaching to take your bag from you. 

“no!” you pull away, still frowning, but you pull away. you’ve never pulled away from him, not like that, and it leaves jeonghan speechless for a moment. pricks him in a place where it hurts.

“i’m mad at you,” you remind him, shaking off your shoes. 

“you pulled away,” jeonghan says dumbly, still rooted to the spot. 

for some reason, that makes you scoff, and you turn on your heel, marching towards your room, calling over your shoulder — “well, you’d know all about pulling away, wouldn’t you, yoon jeonghan?”

well. if he hadn’t been sure before, he’d be sure now. he can’t do much else other than sigh and follow you, watching in silence as you fish out your pyjamas and shut yourself in the bathroom to change. 

he gives in when you come out, just as you start taking off your jewellery with excessive force. “okay, why don’t you just tell me why you’re mad?”

you cast him a dirty look through the mirror of your dresser. “you know why.” you take off your rings, placing them on the wood a little too hard — “or is that just what we do now? making out and never talking about it?” another ring comes off as you force a bitter kind of cheeriness into your tone. “because that’s great! that’s absolutely fucking fine!”

jeonghan leans against the wall, his face dropping into a frown as he watches you. “i’m sorry.”

“sorry for what? since we’re not talking about it.” you’re taking off your makeup now, running the wipes harshly over your face — too harshly, so jeonghan comes over and takes it out your hand before you can stop him.

carefully, slowly, jeonghan wipes over your forehead, across your cheeks and over the bridge of your nose. he tries to be gentle, and you don’t say anything, just blink at him owlishly — all your anger dissipated, at least for the moment. 

“jeonghan,” you say quietly, and suddenly your eyes are wet, and he’s reminded that you’re not completely sober. “what are you doing?”

“hey,” he says, suddenly alarmed, hand cupping your cheek, setting the makeup wipe down, “don’t cry. why are you — ”

“i’m not crying! my eyes are just wet, okay?”

there’s a long moment where he stands with his hand on your cheek, you leaning into his touch, and then you’re asking again, soft — “jeonghan, what are you doing?”

“apologising,” he breathes, and then he’s running a thumb over your cheek. “i’m sorry. about yesterday. about leaving right after — after we kissed.”

your lips protrude in what he can only call a pout. “you didn’t even text.”

“i know,” he murmurs. “i wanted to. i thought — ”

“am i a bad kisser or something?” you demand through a yawn, and then you’re rambling again, a mixture of nervousness and alcohol. “because you kind of caught me by surprise, you know, and i wasn’t really ready and i just — i didn’t know if you were kissing me for the same reason i was kissing you — or if you were just… bored.”

somehow, jeonghan manages a laugh. “___, i don’t kiss people because i’m bored. i kiss them when i like them.”

“so then…” you trail off before you ask the actual question, but jeonghan can see it in your eyes, and he thinks he can see something else too. something that makes his heart do a funny little swoop, makes him crack the slightest of smiles. the weight that’s been pressing into his ribs since yesterday is gone, because one look into your eyes and jeonghan suddenly knows what he couldn’t tell yesterday.

“exactly what you’re thinking,” he says, letting go of your face when he observes your drooping eyes. “but maybe we should talk about this in the morning. if you still remember.”

you don’t say anything, but your eyes sparkle with sudden clarity, like you’ve realised the same thing he’s realised, and you wrap your arms around him for the briefest, sweetest moment.

and then you’re pulling away, but this time jeonghan doesn’t mind as much, because you look him in the eyes and give him a smile that could very well be a piece of heaven.

“i’ll remember,” you promise. “as long as you don’t run away again, i’ll remember.”

prompt from this prompt list !!!

an / guys honestly this may be incoherent because i’m so sleepy and i had motivation to write this but nowhere near enough motivation to proofread. it might not even make any sense. in fact i apologise for this piece because i don’t think it’s worth reading but if you’re reading the author’s note at the bottom i’m going to assume you’ve already read it. sorry

perm taglist: @n4mj00nvq @eoieopda @som1ig @wondering-out-loud

@tokitosun @hannyoontify @sahazzy @dokyeomin

@icyminghao @smilehui @nicholasluvbot @lvlystars

@immabecreepin @hanniehaee @kokoiinuts @astrozuya

@yepimthatonequirkyteenager @qaramu @weird-bookworm @phenomenalgirl9

@lightnjng @strnsvt @onlyyjeonghan @athanasiasakura

@iamawkwardandshy @twilghtkoo @yuuyeonie @lllucere

@pearlesscentt @sourkimchi @porridgesblog

[chrishme]

Amazing | Billie Eilish x fem!reader

summary: you comfort billie after her recent loss at the grammies.

warning: crying, that’s it. pure fluff other than that.

a/n: i know this is really really short but this is how i cope lmao my poor girl deserved so much better :(

•·.·''·.·•*ੈ✩‧₊˚.ೃ࿐*ೃ༄·˚ ༘ˏˋ°•*⁀➷⋆·˚ ༘

You were heartbroken, to say the least. Watching your girlfriend cry at the Grammies wasn't on your 2025 bingo card, and your heart ached for her. The night was magical at first, with you and Billie posing for camera's on the red carpet, both of you backstage getting ready for her performance, the happy smiles and quick kisses before running off onto the stage.

But every time her name wasn't called onto the stage later in the night, you can see your girlfriends smile falter more and more. Billie was a good sport however, and definitely wouldn't express her disappointment, especially with the camera's watching her every move.

The Grammies after party was nice, you and Billie danced together and managed to meet up with a few friends at the party, but you could still tell the loss from earlier that night was weighing heavy on her.

The two of you parted ways with Finneas and Claudia, Finneas making sure to give his sister an extra hug along with words of reassurance before going home. The ride up the elevator to you and Billie's shared apartment was silent, and you couldn't wait to be behind closed doors to hug and comfort her. As soon as the door to the apartment closed, you turn and she sulks into your arms, wrapping them around your waist, head on your chest.

You two stood there for a moment, and you run a hand through her hair and place a kiss on her forehead. It's not until moments later that you hear sniffles escaping from Billie, and your heart pangs at the noise.

"Bils?" You voice comes out in a whisper, trying to make her say something, anything. A moment passes by and Billie's ocean blue orbes finally meet your own. Your thumb runs over a stray tear that stains her cheek. "Are you okay?" You know it's a stupid question to ask, but you need to know what was going on in that pretty head of her's.

She nods at your words, sniffling. You bring her into you again, rubbing circles along her back. You knew she loved it when you did, and soon enough her body begins to calm against your own. "Your performance was amazing." You whisper out to her, kissing her forehead. "Thanks baby." She responds back, appreciating your efforts to make her feel better. She pulls away, and you grab her by the chin, making her look into her eyes.

"Bils, you worked so hard on this album and I know how much it meant for you to win, but just because you didn't doesn't make you or the album any less amazing."

She can tell your words are genuine by the look on your face. She manages a smile, and you can't help but mirror one back to her. She grabs your cheek and gives you a gentle kiss. You kiss back, fingers lacing in her hair. "I love you." She says, smiling against your lips. You always knew how to make her feel better. You smile back, "I love you too, Billie."

She rest her forehead against yours, breathing in your scent, finally feeling somewhat at peace for the first time that night, embraced in your arms. "Ya'know, if it were up to me, you would have won everything." You say with a smile. She smiles back at you, letting out a little laugh. "I know, baby. I know."

•·.·''·.·•*ੈ✩‧₊˚.ೃ࿐*ೃ༄·˚ ༘ˏˋ°•*⁀➷⋆·˚ ༘

[fallminlove]

how would svt kiss their partner - ot13 ver

-> paring: seventeen x gn!reader -> genre: fluff, established relationship, very very little suggestiveness -> word count: <1k -> content warning: alluding to "hot and heavy" (csc), alluding to making out (kmg)

p.s. i wrote this because i have an unhealthy obsession with kiss me right by keshi,, and these are just my headcannons on how I think they would kiss their partner !! - yumi

❥ C. Seungcheol - There would a sense of aggression when he kisses you. Almost as if he’s trying to prove something. Every time he kisses you, he will constantly be trying to your breath away (as if he doesn’t do that already just by existing)

❥ Y. Jeonghan - Lazy but very soft light pecks is his preferred way of kissing. When he kisses he just wants to cling on you (whether its cuddling or hugging or clinging on your arm) and just peck your lips till you get annoyed (which is never) or till he's satisfied (which is never)

❥ H. Jisoo - There’s a meticulous way almost like an order of things when he kisses you. Cupping your cheeks, looking at you in the eyes, closing his eyes and pulling himself into you before landing a gentle kiss. You know just a very gentlemanly man.

❥ W. Junhui - He would always be the one who's initiating, asking you to kiss him. But as you are about to meet his soft lips, he would turn his head away just to mess with you. You will be there pouting and he’s would be laughing, giggling, kicking his feet. But he will for sure make it up to you immediately. Gently putting his hand on the back of your head, bring his forehead against yours, and give a soft peck on your lips.

❥ K. Soonyoung - There’s nothing holding him back, if you're in his sight, you better be ready for a smooch from him! He is the definition of "showering you with kisses" based on how many times he will peck your cheeks, exclaiming how adorable you look at any hour of the day.

❥ J. Wonwoo - He is not the type to show PDA often, but when he's at the privacy of his home or your home, he’s definitely a little more comfortable showering you with kisses. There's a little bit of shyness every time he's the one who initiates the kiss, as if he wasn't sure if he's suppose to do that or not. And you bet after he wins a game he will run to you and give a peck on your cheek as a reward (even though he’s the one that won)

❥ L. Jihoon - He’s not really the type to really express his feeling and love outwardly, and this would go the same with kisses. But when he does initiate he would start with a peck on the cheek. He would hesitate for a bit just to make sure you're ready for his incoming affection, and then move to your lips to land a soft kiss.

❥ K. Mingyu - BACK HUGS, KISSES ON THE NECK !!! He’s definitely the type that’s not satisfied with just one peck or one kiss. Very similar to Seungcheol he feels like he NEEDS to prove something when he kisses you. He's definitely also the type that will literally try every single k-drama kissing trick/troupe on you when he wants to kiss you at home (side headcannon: I think Mingyu's lips would taste like citrus???)

❥ L. Seokmin - His kisses are affectionate and soft, he would pull away slowly and he would always smile brightly or laugh after a kiss !!! You would ask him why is he laughing or smiling so much and he would always respond with something along the lines of “I'm kissing the light of my life of course I can't stop smiling!”

❥ X. Minghao - There’s a sense of gentleness and delicacy when he kisses. Similar to Joshua there’s a habit he always does when he kisses, which is softly holding your chin up when he places a light kiss on their lips. After he pulls away there would be a sparkle in his eye, as he's looking at you, telling you how much he appreciates having you in his life.

❥ B. Seungkwan - He’s the type to give you kisses at very specific moments of the day. A good morning kiss, a kiss before you leave for work, a kiss for when you are back home, a good night kiss. And you bet after he gives those kisses, he’s expecting kisses back from you or else he will be pouty all day.

❥ C. Hansol - The way he would kiss is so casual, and it is always out of no where. Usually when he’s excited and you are next to him, definitely expect on kiss on the cheeks. There are times where you would just be talking and he would sit there nodding as a response. But suddenly out of no where he would bring his lips to yours, the definition of “sorry I was just thinking what it would feel like if I put my lips on yours right now”

❥ L. Chan - Depending on the occasion or the mood his kisses would change, but the affection will never differ. If it’s a formal setting, he will give you the deepest most passionate kiss. If it's a casual setting, his kisses would be soft but also excited. As if he’s been waiting for so long just kiss you.

p.p.s. a new love letter has been shared! @imujings @seungchaos -> if you want to be notified when new letters have been shared, please comment or sent in an ask!

[00valentina-writes00]

Abby with gf who has an ed???

✞⛧ Abby Anderson with a girlfriend that has an ED ✞⛧

Tw: Mentions of ED

✞⛧ Abby notices before you even say anything. She’s observant, always watching you with those sharp, concerned eyes. At first, she doesn’t push, but she starts taking mental notes—how little you eat, how often you make excuses, the way your hands tremble when you go too long without food.

✞⛧ She’s so gentle about it. She doesn’t force you to eat or make you feel bad, but she always makes sure there’s food around. “I made extra,” she says casually, setting a plate in front of you. “Eat if you want.”

✞⛧ The first time you break down and admit you’re struggling, she just holds you. No judgment. No anger. Just strong, steady arms around you as she murmurs, “We’ll figure this out, okay? Together.”

✞⛧ She starts bringing snacks to share during patrols. “We gotta keep our energy up,” she says, handing you a protein bar. She takes a big bite of hers first, making a show of how good it is, hoping you’ll follow suit.

✞⛧ She’s so patient. Never makes you feel guilty. Never rushes your progress. Just steady, unwavering support.

✞⛧ She notices the way you stare at food sometimes, like it’s the enemy. The way you poke at it, move it around your plate, take tiny bites. It breaks her heart, but she never makes you feel ashamed.

✞⛧ When you’re feeling particularly low, she doesn’t ask you to eat—she just holds your hand, rubs her thumb over your knuckles, and reminds you she loves you no matter what.

✞⛧ She gets extra protective when she hears others making comments about food, weight, or body image. She hates that society still has a hold on people like that, even after the world ended.

✞⛧ If someone ever makes a rude comment about your eating habits, Abby sees red. “Mind your own fucking business,” she growls, stepping in front of you like a shield.

✞⛧ She takes time to learn everything she can about eating disorders. Finds old books, asks around, even talks to Yara about nutrition. Anything to understand what you’re going through.

✞⛧ She starts meal prepping with you, making it a bonding activity rather than a chore. “You don’t have to eat it if you’re not ready,” she assures you. “But let’s make something together, yeah?”

✞⛧ She makes sure your shared space is safe—no triggering conversations, no pressure, just love and understanding.

✞⛧ She learns the subtle signs of when you’re struggling—zoning out, irritability, dizziness—and steps in before things get bad. “C’mere, babe. Let’s sit for a second.”

✞⛧ She makes a habit of bringing you tea, especially when your stomach is hurting. “It’s warm,” she says, pressing the cup into your hands. “Just sip it, no pressure.”

✞⛧ If you have bad body image days, Abby will worship you. Kisses every inch of you, murmurs soft praises against your skin, makes sure you know how loved and beautiful you are.

✞⛧ When you have moments where you feel guilty about eating, she reassures you: “Food isn’t the enemy, babe. It keeps you strong. And I need you strong, okay?”

✞⛧ She’s a big spoon kind of girlfriend, always holding you close, always making sure you feel secure.

✞⛧ She starts cooking more, experimenting with different meals to find things that don’t overwhelm you. “Tell me what looks good to you,” she says, flipping through an old cookbook she found

✞⛧ If eating is too hard some days, she doesn’t push—you can just lay in her arms, and she’ll remind you that one bad day doesn’t erase all your progress.

✞⛧ She gives the best pep talks. “You’re doing so good, babe. Even on the hard days. I’m proud of you.”

✞⛧ If you’re feeling self-conscious about eating in front of others, she’ll make sure you have private meals together. “Just us, okay? No pressure.”

✞⛧ She’ll distract you during meals—talking about her day, telling you dumb jokes, playfully nudging your foot under the table—to take the stress off eating.

✞⛧ She makes sure you never feel alone in this. If you wake up in the middle of the night feeling guilty or anxious, she’s already pulling you into her chest, whispering, “I’ve got you.”

✞⛧ On days when eating feels impossible, she reminds you that small steps are still steps. “A few bites is still progress. I’m proud of you.”

✞⛧ She celebrates your victories, no matter how small. “You ate half of it? That’s amazing, babe.”

✞⛧ If you start spiraling, she grounds you—holding your face in her hands, pressing her forehead to yours, whispering, “You’re safe. You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

✞⛧ She never lets you feel like a burden. “You’d do the same for me,” she reminds you when you apologize for struggling. “And I love taking care of you.”

✞⛧ If you ever relapse, she never gets mad. She just holds you close and says, “We’ll try again tomorrow, okay?”

✞⛧ She’s your biggest supporter, your protector, your safe place. And no matter what, she’ll always be right by your side.

[andy-15-07]

Love in the Chaos

pairing: Aaron Taylor Johnson x female!reader

word count: 1155 | requests are open (send requests, I will gladly answer them all)

"Y/n, have you seen my blue shirt?" Aaron called from the bedroom, his voice slightly muffled.

"I think it's in the laundry basket, love," you replied from the kitchen, where you were meticulously arranging a charcuterie board. Tonight was date night, a rare and precious occasion for you and Aaron. After months of juggling work, school runs, and the whirlwind of raising two young children, you were finally escaping for a few hours. Your parents had graciously offered to babysit, and you were determined to make the most of it.

"Ah, you're right," Aaron reappeared, the blue shirt now in hand. He grinned at you, a hint of mischief in his eyes. "You know, sometimes I think you have a secret organization system for all our belongings."

You chuckled, "If only! It’s more like controlled chaos." You glanced at the clock. "Kids are finally down, right?"

"Sleeping like little angels," Aaron confirmed, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into a gentle hug. "They were surprisingly easy tonight. Maybe they sensed our desperation for freedom."

"Let's hope it stays that way," you said, leaning into his embrace. "I’d hate for Grandma and Grandpa to have a wrestling match at bedtime."

"Speaking of which," Aaron said, releasing you and grabbing his wallet from the dresser, "I should probably run to the store and grab that bottle of wine we talked about. Red, right?"

"Perfect," you replied, gesturing to the charcuterie board. "And maybe some fancy cheese. The kids won't appreciate it, so we can indulge."

"Consider it done," Aaron said, giving you a quick kiss before heading out the door.

You surveyed the kitchen, a smile playing on your lips. The babysitter was coming in an hour, giving you just enough time to get ready without rushing. You finished arranging the charcuterie board, adding a few sprigs of rosemary for a touch of elegance. Then, you headed upstairs to get ready.

As you were changing, your phone buzzed. It was a text from Aaron: "Found the perfect wine. And I may have also picked up some dark chocolate. Just sayin'..."

You smiled, replying with a string of heart emojis. He knew you so well. A quiet evening with good food, good wine, and even better company was your idea of heaven.

A little while later, Aaron returned, a bottle of wine and a bag of groceries in hand. "I also grabbed some flowers," he announced, presenting a small bouquet of vibrant lilies.

"They're beautiful," you said, taking the flowers and inhaling their sweet fragrance. "Thank you."

"You deserve them," Aaron said softly, his eyes filled with affection. "You deserve a night off."

The doorbell rang, signaling the arrival of the babysitter. Your parents came in, beaming and ready for their mission. After a quick briefing about bedtime routines and emergency contacts, you and Aaron were finally out the door, hand in hand.

"Where are we going?" you asked as Aaron led you to his car.

"It's a surprise," he said with a wink. "But I promise you'll love it."

He drove for about twenty minutes, taking you to a charming little Italian restaurant tucked away in a quiet neighborhood. The restaurant was dimly lit, with cozy tables and the soft murmur of conversation filling the air. It was the perfect setting for a romantic date night.

"This place looks amazing," you said as you were shown to your table.

"I knew you'd like it," Aaron replied, pulling out your chair.

You settled into your seats, feeling a sense of calm wash over you. It was so nice to be out, just the two of you, without the constant demands of parenthood.

"So," Aaron said, after you'd ordered drinks, "what have you been up to lately? Besides being a supermom, of course."

You laughed, "Well, work has been crazy busy. But I finally finished that big project I was telling you about."

"That's fantastic!" Aaron exclaimed, raising his glass. "To your success!"

You clinked glasses and took a sip of your wine. The conversation flowed easily, as it always did between you and Aaron. You talked about work, your kids, your dreams for the future. You laughed, you reminisced, and you simply enjoyed each other's company.

As the evening progressed, the conversation turned more personal.

"You know," Aaron said, his voice softening, "I don't tell you this enough, but I'm so grateful for you. You're an incredible mother, an amazing partner, and my best friend."

Your heart swelled with warmth. "Thank you, Aaron," you replied, your voice thick with emotion. "I feel the same way about you. You're my rock, my support system, and the love of my life."

He reached across the table and took your hand, his touch sending shivers down your spine. "I love you, Y/n," he said, his eyes locking with yours.

"I love you too, Aaron," you whispered back.

For a moment, the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you, connected by an invisible thread of love and understanding.

After dinner, Aaron surprised you with a walk along the riverbank. The moon was full, casting a silvery glow on the water. You strolled hand in hand, enjoying the peacefulness of the night.

"This is perfect," you said, leaning your head on Aaron's shoulder.

"It is," he agreed. "Just like you."

You smiled, feeling completely content. This was exactly what you needed – a night to reconnect, to recharge, to remember why you fell in love in the first place.

As you walked back to the car, you couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt about leaving the kids. But then you remembered something Aaron had said earlier: "Happy parents, happy kids." You knew that taking time for yourselves was essential for the health and well-being of your family.

When you arrived home, your parents were waiting for you, both kids fast asleep.

"They were perfect angels," your mom said with a smile.

"Thank you so much for watching them," you said, feeling a wave of gratitude.

"Anytime," your dad replied. "You two deserve a night out."

After your parents left, you and Aaron went upstairs, careful not to wake the kids. You changed into your pajamas and snuggled into bed, feeling tired but happy.

"Tonight was amazing," you said, turning to face Aaron.

"It was," he agreed, kissing you softly on the lips. "We should do it more often."

"Definitely," you said, closing your eyes and drifting off to sleep, feeling loved and cherished.

The next morning, you woke up to the sound of your kids giggling downstairs. You and Aaron exchanged a look, a mixture of amusement and exhaustion. The date night was over, and it was back to reality. But you both knew that the memories of the evening would stay with you, a reminder of the love and connection that bound you together. And that, you realized, was more valuable than anything.

[trashcakery]

This was after the hug, Fadel’s tears, the slow dance, the I have fallen for you, the kiss. Fadel had made up his mind. He would take what he could get—Style’s smell, the shape of his mouth, the taste of his skin—one last time. He knew it was over, could feel it seething between his lungs, the anger a quiet whir in the back of his head. He looked into Style’s eyes for a moment after they broke apart, and he thought of collapsing the facade, of grabbing his shoulders and shaking a confession out of those beautiful, lying lips. But Style simply looked back, smiling, unwavering, clueless. Did you really think I would not find out?

They were to spend the night in Fadel’s room. Style was tired. He went quiet at times in the night—a part of him Fadel was sure no one else knew. It was as if he gave out his spark in constant bouts, leaving little to himself in the final hours of the day. The loudest people can be the loneliest, Fadel thought, fleetingly.

“Fadel,” Style whispered. He was sitting on the foot of Fadel’s bed, the smile, though tired, reaching his eyes. His hair was wet. He had just showered, and was in grey sweats and a black band tshirt that Fadel swore wasn’t cropped a few weeks back. Style raised both arms up, asking for a hug, asking Fadel to kill the space between them. “Why are you so far?”

Fadel didn’t say anything. He watched Style; the droplets lining his neck, one by one, pooling in the milky collarbones; those wild pretty brows that were surprisingly relaxed, not challenging him like they always did. He looked so good, so harmless. Fadel wanted to jump out of his own fucking skin. He walked, measured, towards him. Style’s shoulders perked up, a light in his face. He wrapped his arms around Fadel’s neck when Fadel bowed to let him, and they held each other’s eyes. Fadel stayed there. Say it. Say something. His mind was a jumble. Why won’t you say anything? But Style sat there, expectant. Fadel tightened his brows and quickly, like reflex, grabbed Style’s jaw. Maybe he’d scare a confession out of him, he thought. Maybe that’ll get him to explain himself, to swear to Fadel that Bison was wrong and that he didn’t betray him, that he wasn’t lying when he said he loved and wanted him. Fadel’s fingers left white prints where they pushed the skin. But Style stayed as he was, trusting. Fadel searched his face, searched for a silver of a clue, but found none. It pissed him off. Why was Style’s guard down? Why was he so fucking calm? Why wasn’t he afraid, still smiling, still ready to give his body, down to the bone, to Fadel? Fadel dug his nails into the skin, knuckles white, and Style titled his head ever so slightly to kiss the part of Fadel’s hand he could reach. “I miss you,” he said. “I was so worried that your shop was closed. I thought I was going insane.”

Fadel didn’t understand this. He didn’t know how to react. He was angry. He wanted him. He wanted him so much. He wanted to say goodbye. He didn’t want to kill him. He didn’t want to let go. He didn’t want this to end.

“Why?” He said, a choked breath.

It was Style’s turn to frown. He looked confused. “What?”

Fadel snapped out of it. Immediately. His fingers relaxed around Style’s jaw. He took a breath, grounded himself. “Nothing.” An exhale. “Come here.”

The kiss was slow, deep. Fadel couldn’t close his eyes. He kissed him, watched when he could. It felt wrong, but he needed to do this, one final time.

Style slipped out of his own shirt. It came off beautifully, his hair crowned with a shimmer. He looked up in quiet excitement at Fadel, who was standing now, taking his own shirt and pants off.

Style pushed himself to lie on the bed then wrapped his arms around Fadel’s back as Fadel climbed over him. They looked at each other. It was never like this between them. Fadel was suddenly aware of it all. Of the sounds their bodies were making against his sheets. Of the difference between them, in size and mannerism, the pace of their breaths, how Style’s gentle thrill was getting the better of him, how Fadel’s limbs were stiffening up in response, his trust in Style completely shattered.

Style raised his head up and kissed him again. Fadel tasted peppermint, fruit candy and sweetness. He wanted this. He wanted lifetimes of this.

“Fadel,” Style whispered against his mouth and stroked the back of his neck. “Did you think about me while you were gone—“

Fadel slipped his tongue in to shut him up. He didn’t want to admit the answer. I did. Every night.

They kissed, again, and again, shed off the rest of their clothes. It was different this time, the silence a creature in its own right. Fadel kissed Style’s body carefully. He left no part untouched. Style’s breaths came in quiet moans as he held onto Fadel tightly, always following his gaze, always trying to show him it felt good. And it did. It felt so fucking good, like fire, like martyrdom. But Fadel avoided Style’s eyes when he was inside, his face turned as he moved, slowly, carefully, awkwardly. His heart hurt. It shouldn’t be like this. It was never like this. He kissed Style’s neck when it became unbearable. And Style kissed him back, wherever he could, his jaw, his chin, his cheek, holding on tighter with each motion. Why? Fadel’s tears burned.

“Fadel,” Style closed his eyes and whispered as his head fell back. He bit hard onto his lips. Fadel went deeper, and watched, detached. “Fadel.”

[lavylesby]

Family Reunion

hey guys! ^^ I officially have an AO3 account! :D so here's my first story (I'll be posting it here and on AO3):

Family Reunion

Author's Notes: There are two users on Tumblr, @akiiame and @coffeecat1983, who came up with the idea that Sonic is Mario and Luigi's pet. @akiiame made an adorable drawing, and @coffeecat1983 took it and ran with it as a fanfic. I would like to expand on this, as this is my first ever story on AO3, and I think it's an absolutely wonderful concept. Thank you reading my first story, and please don't hesitate to give me constructive criticism! Now then, onward and upward! ^^

"Hrrmgph." "Soonik." "Why does he keep making that sound?" Luigi laughed. He joyfully tossed the little hedgehog another treat, and continued chuckling at his hungry enthusiasm. Sonic. That's a perfect name, Mario thought. But where the heck did he even come from? And why is he blue? "Hey, Lu?" Luigi's ears perked up at his brother's tone. There was a slight hint of concern. "What's wrong, Mar?" he asked. "You don't think we could get in trouble, do you?" Mario replied. Luigi turned in his chair, being mindful of his cast. "Trouble for what? Clearly nobody was caring for 'im. You didn't know he'd show up at work." He got up and hugged his older sibling, who sighed. "We ain't do nothing wrong, bro," Luigi assured him. "If you want, we can take Sonic to the vet tomorrow and get 'im checked out." Mario gently squeezed his little brother. "OK. I guess it'll be alright." He turned to see the bright blue ball, eagerly snorting for more treats. "You gonna be spoiled, boy," Mario giggled. He scooped Sonic into his hands and hand-fed him one last treat. The little hedgehog must've realized this would be the end of his snacks, and he squealed in protest. "MMRRPGH!!" "SOOOOONIK!!" Luigi collapsed into laughter. "No more treats!" Mario chided him lovingly. "It's time for you to rest, buddy."

A few hours and a few helpings of Ma's lasagna later, Mario finished building and decorating Sonic's new home. Luigi chipped in where he could, even giving the rodent one of his favorite stuffed toys. Now, Sonic was fast asleep in his brand new, ultra fluffy bed, with all but his inquisitive snout being covered by a delicate blanket. Luigi was fascinated by the creature. He quietly hummed an Italian lullaby to help him sleep. Mario joined him later, and when the song ended, the bros embraced, and the older kissed the younger's cheeks. "How's your leg?" Mario asked gently. "It's just a dull pain right now," Luigi said. "I've got my meds, so I think I'll get a good night's sleep for once." Unfortunately, the pain from his injury had given him a nearly sleepless week. Luckily, he was stuck at home most days, so he could take naps when he had the chance. Luigi gingerly stood up and kissed his brother's forehead. "I'll be fine, fratellone," he murmured. "C'mon, let's go to bed." Mario took one last peek at his new pal. "G'night, Sonic," he whispered. As if responding, the spiky rodent let out a gentle, hushed grumble. The bros smiled at each other, happy to be hedgehog parents.

Sound asleep, Luigi snored peacefully. Despite being unconscious, he knew he was warm, comfortable, and safe, and his brother was at his side. Or was he? Luigi's brain prompted him to wake up. He realized that Mario was standing over him, having recently kissed his nose. "Mar?" he asked groggily. "Why are you up at 4 AM…?" "Spike called," he whispered. "I gotta come in, he said there's something I need to see." "Can't it wait until morning?" Luigi complained. "I dunno, he sounded pretty worried," Mario replied. "Y'know he never gets worried about anything." He grabbed his toolbox and ruffled Luigi's hair. "I made you some breakfast, you can heat it up when you're ready. Marty will come by to look at Sonic later," he said, Marty being the vet. Luigi mmphed a response. Mario shut the bedroom door behind him, and Luigi prepared to go back to the murkiness of sleep… …until Mario shouted. Quick, thudding footsteps made their way back to the bedroom. The door swung open. "Where's Sonic?!" Mario demanded. "Huh?? What do you mean?" Luigi said, still slightly confused. Perhaps he was dreaming. "He should still be in his cage…right?" "He's gone!" "Gone?? How?!" "The latch is wide open, and there's a hole in the front door!" Luigi was wide awake now. He ignored his leg pain and hurriedly began to dress. "I'm coming with you." "Lu, you need to stay!" "If Spike is worried, and you found Sonic at work, there's a good chance he went there and we'll find out what's going on. I have my crutches." Mario sighed. Despite his timid tendencies, he knew that once Luigi set his mind on something, there was no convincing him otherwise. "Well, c'mon then." The bros locked arms to aid Luigi, leaving their damaged door to be resolved later.

"Oh, thank God you're here!" Spike ran from the construction site to greet the bros. "Hey Luigi, whatta you doin' here? Thought you was patching up?" "I am," he said. "But Sonic is missing." "Eh, Sonic?" Spike paused for a moment. "Oh, the blue rat thing! Well, he ain't missing no more." Spike stepped aside, and to the bros' surprise, Sonic was standing right behind him. The so-called "blue rat thing" ran up to Mario and nuzzled his leg. "Boy, what is you doin'???" Mario exclaimed. "The sun ain't even out yet!" But before he could grab his strange companion, Sonic dashed off again, and motioned to the wrecking crew to follow him. "I couldn't sleep, so I came here to assess what our next step would be," Spike said. "All of a sudden the rat comes along and just would not stop squeaking! And he's so fast!" "Well, that would explain the door," Luigi chuckled. "But he would have to be REALLY fast to break it." "Yeah…" Mario agreed absentmindedly. His concern grew with every step he took to follow Sonic. Eventually, the group stopped at what appeared to be a nest. Sonic slowed down, and turned to face his humans. But before they could ask questions, Sonic turned back around and began uttering a low call. "ruuuuuuIMPH." "ruuuuuuuuuu…ruuuuuuuuIMPH." Mario, Luigi, and Spike shared hasty glances. They had no idea what was happening. "Tooooils…" "NuuuuuuuKLS…" "Soooodooow…" "Mimimimi…" The rodent continued repeating these calls, and to everyone's shock, several small creatures emerged from the makeshift nest. Mario was stunned. "Are-are…are those more hedgehogs???" Luigi gasped. "Look, one of 'em's got 2 tails!" Spike shouted. Sonic ran over to what could only be his family, his quills quivering joyfully. The creatures exchanged grunts, nuzzles, and rubs. Sonic turned once more, and you could almost make out a smile on his face in the early morning light. Mario managed to snap back to reality, and his heart filled with warmth. He knelt down to pet his blue baby. "Is this your family, buddy?" he asked. Sonic squeaked in response, and Mario caressed his ears. "Well, they can come with us." "They can??" Luigi gasped once more. Mario grabbed the two-tailed creature, who grunted gratefully. "Yeah…we can share them with Peach and the others, and they can meet each other sometimes." Spike was absolutely speechless. He just stared off as the bros scooped the petite animals and left. He heard a small bit of their fading conversation. "…Is Marty open now…?" "Yeah I guess we can…" "…Tails? That's awes…!" "I'm pretty sure he…"

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

Thanks for reading! ^^ Can't wait to get started on AO3. Once again @akiiame @coffeecat1983 thanks for the idea! :D

[solxamber]

Neige, romantic, strawberry mentos by Leanna Firestone please!!! I love your writing in general and how you interpret my boy sm!

Strawberry Mentos || Neige LeBlanche

𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭

𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠: Strawberry Mentos by Leanna Firestone

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 700

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: Fluff

Falling in love with Neige felt like stepping into the first day of spring—gentle, warm, and full of possibility. It was effortless, like breathing. He was sweet in a way that wasn’t overwhelming, in a way that made your heart flutter rather than ache.

There was no sharpness, no uncertainty, no fear of falling too hard because he was already there, arms open, ready to catch you.

You didn’t know love could be this soft.

Neige was deliberately kind. Every action, every small detail, was laced with thoughtfulness. He remembered the way you liked your tea, how you preferred your blankets tucked under your feet when you slept, and that you always tapped your fingers against the side of a glass before taking a sip.

And when it came to you—he always made time.

Even when his schedule was packed with rehearsals, fan meetings, and performances, he would somehow find a way to carve out a moment for you.

A good morning text before the sun rose, a shared lunch break where he barely touched his food because he was too busy listening to you talk, a late-night phone call when he should have been asleep but instead was whispering, "Just five more minutes," over and over.

And when he kissed you—oh, when he kissed you.

The first time it happened, it was late. You were curled up on the couch together, legs tangled, watching some old film he insisted you had to see.

You had barely been paying attention to the screen, too distracted by the way Neige kept stealing glances at you, the way he shifted slightly closer every few minutes, as if testing the waters.

Then, without thinking, you leaned in.

His lips tasted of strawberry mentos.

Your favorite.

The moment you pulled away, Neige blinked at you, dazed, before a slow, sweet smile curled at his lips. His cheeks were flushed a pretty shade of pink, and he looked so utterly love-struck that your heart clenched painfully in your chest.

"You taste like strawberries," you murmured, voice barely above a whisper.

Neige let out a soft, breathy laugh, leaning his forehead against yours. "You taste like strawberries."

And from that moment on, you swore you’d never go a day without kissing him.

You didn’t particularly like licorice.

They were too sweet, too artificial, too much. But Neige adored them. He always had a pack on him, popping one into his mouth absentmindedly whenever he was thinking, or before a performance, or simply because he liked the taste.

So, despite your distaste, you started carrying them too.

You didn’t know when it started. Maybe it was the first time you saw his eyes light up when you offered him one, or the way he laughed, surprised and delighted, when he realized you had started keeping them just for him.

Or maybe—just maybe—it was because of the way he kissed you after tasting the flavor on your lips.

"Wait," he had paused mid-kiss one day, blinking at you in confusion. "...Did you eat licorice?"

You bit your lip, suddenly embarrassed. "Maybe."

His eyes softened.

"You don’t even like them."

"I know," you admitted, glancing away. "...But you do."

There was a beat of silence.

Then, suddenly, Neige was laughing, the sound bright and airy and full of so much joy that you couldn’t help but smile too. Before you could say anything else, he cupped your face in his hands and kissed you, slow and sweet, like he had all the time in the world.

When he pulled away, he was grinning. "I think that might’ve been the best one yet."

"Yeah?" you teased. "Because of the candy or because of me?"

Neige hummed, pretending to think about it. "Mmm... Definitely because of you."

His voice was so warm, so utterly affectionate, that you felt yourself melt.

This—this was love.

Just this.

Simple, sweet, and easy.

And as Neige rested his forehead against yours, his hands still cradling your cheeks like you were something delicate, something precious—

You knew.

He was the one.

Masterlist ; Valentine's Event

[sonicssweetheart]

Please could I request a Sonic x reader where reader is feeling down about themselves and has low self esteem and Sonic is there to comfort them ? Thank you !!

⋆🎐˚｡⋆ — literally have been fantasizing about sonic making me feel better about myself as a person for a good three months. that would fix me, me thinks! ty for requesting! <3

⤷ sonic x insecure!reader 𐚁₊⊹

“i hope i don’t look like an idiot,”

sonic whispered to himself, watching himself comb through his quills in the full length mirror in the living room. you two were simply getting ready to go out with friends, where you would meet up at an arcade — or wherever the night took you. he felt rather proud of how he presented himself, but then again, you were his common sense, so he would have to ask you before confirming anything.

at the thought of you, his legs instantly darted to the door of your bedroom, knocking a few times.

“babe, you comin’?” he called out, his face inches away from the door as he waited excitedly. when he was met with an odd sound of ruffling and a moment of silence, his eyes furrowed at the lack of response and pressed his ear against the cool oak.

“…you okay?” he asked, dragging the question in his voice. a muffled “yeah” was made out of the barrier between you two, which caused sonics ear to twitch out of discomfort with that answer. he pursed his lips and gently twisted the knob, stepping into the room hesitantly.

you sat on your bed, and you looked lovely. but you sat there, looking at the mirror on your left hand side. you didn’t turn your head when he walked in, and for a moment he was concerned.

“uhm,” he started, not sure what to say. “y/n?” he walked up to you and his heart thumped as he got a closer look at your outfit. “is that new? i don’t think i’ve seen this one before. definitely not complaining.” he tried to seem flirtatious like he usually is, but he couldn’t help but notice your unamused face that still stared in the mirror.

sitting beside you, not taking his eyes off of your drooped head, he tilted his own in curiosity. “do you not like it?” he questioned in a gentle voice, making sure he didn’t overwhelm you. you sat silent for another moment, the gentle burring of the ventilation humming quietly in the back.

“‘m just thinking.” you responded blandly, your mouth feeling dry. sonic tapped his finger on his leg, not knowing what to say. “about?” he questioned.

catching a glance of your face as you looked at him, he noticed the exhausted expression in your eyes. it startled him. before he could speak, you took a breath, pausing for a moment before resuming,

“sonic, i don’t…” you shook your head slightly, looking to him again. “…like… anything about myself.”

your voice slightly broke out of stress, running a hand through your hair. you laughed a little, trying to not seem so dark, but that didn’t hide anything from sonic. his ears folded down as a form of heartache, his chest feeling pained to hear those words.

“hey, hey—“ he moved slightly closer to you, his hand resting on the small of your back. “what? why… why do you think that?” his voice almost went up an octave out of both confusion and shock, as for he only ever saw you as a perfect entity that didn’t deserve to be trapped on the limits of earth.

taking a shaky breath, you let your hands fall to your lap in defeat. “i feel like a burden, i guess? like your friends don’t enjoy my humour, or my presence, or the fact that im only around because you happen to be with me? hell if i know.” you intended to come off as irritated, but to your boyfriend, you just sounded hurt. he shook his head reassuringly, leaning his face closer to you so you would look at him.

“y/n, they adore you. literally. i can’t even — there is everything to love about you. do you not see that?” he asked that question as if he were genuinely shocked, his eyes concerned and sad. he absolutely despised seeing you so upset with yourself, he just doesn’t understand it. he has so much love to feel for you that there was simply no room for criticism. “and even if for some reason they didn’t, that does not measure who you are as a person. and for the record — you are incredible,” he motioned your face towards his using his thumb on your chin. “you are — beyond any words — the best person anyone could have in their life.” he slid his hand to your shoulder, gently rubbing your arm in a soothing manner, where you melted into his touch.

you sighed, your eyes looking down. “i wish it were easier for me to believe that.” you replied in a raspy voice. sonic stood up in front of you, looking down into your eyes. cupping your face in his hands, he stroked his thumbs over your flushed cheeks.

“you made a difference here, genuinely. you gave purpose to our lives just by being who you are. you’re a flower amidst a desert. all of that .. err, stuff,” you couldn’t help but snicker at him, your eyes glossy and full of love. he smiled warmly, one of his hands running its fingers through your hair, admiring you.

“i like everything about you. every flaw and corny joke you make, every clumsy step and hearty laugh. it’s hard to admire someone when there’s nothing to them, but you have everything,” sonic pressed a kiss to your forehead, then to your ear, “you’re enough, and everything more than that.” he lifted his head to look at you, his heart melting as he noticed a few tears running down your cheeks. your lips twitched as you peered through your wet eyelashes, sniffling softly.

“i’m sorry, im sorry im sorry —“ you repeated quietly on a chain, sonic whimpering quietly in response. it broke him to see you cry.

“hey hey you have nothing to be sorry for, hey..” he held your head against his chest as you cried, stroking your hair and maneuvering his way back to sitting beside you so he could hold you.

he let you cry for a moment as you caught your breath and wiped your tears with the back of your hand, regaining your composure.

“i’m so sorry, i-im such a wreck, i know you ju…just wanted to hang out with your friends,” you rambled, but sonic just stared, his eyes gazing over you.

“god, you’re beautiful.” he whispered, catching you off guard, you looked at him, snot covering your nose, your face wet and hair disheveled.

“what?” you asked weakly, confused. sonic reached for your hand, taking it to his mouth, kissing your knuckle.

“it’s moments like these where i can see who you really are, and i see you.” his last words made your heart palpitate. i see you. words you didn’t even know you needed to hear. he smiled, keeping your hand close to him.

“and you’re just glowing. you don’t even see it.” he added, making you smile and look away.

“you’re such a … i don’t even know.” you laughed through your teeth, wiping your face again. sonic tucked your hair behind your ear.

“let’s stay in tonight.” he suggested, but you were quick to protest.

“no, no, we can’t cancel last minute. i’m fine, we can go—“

“mm, i’d rather spend the rest of tonight loving you, okay? please?” his tone was rather persuasive, and you looked a little taken aback.

“i, uh… can’t really say no to that.” you replied which gained sonics classic smirk.

“it’s settled. i’ll go call tails.” he got up. heading to the door but looking behind his shoulder before he left.

‘i love you’ he mouthed, earning a shy chuckle from you and a sniffly ‘i love you more’ back. ♥︎

[hammerton365]

You’re in my head24/7

“Y/N,” His voice was stern, clearly fed up with your antics. “M’sorry! It’s just too much..” You groggily trailed off, body shivering at Erens forceful tone. For some back story, you and Eren had started dating 3 weeks ago.

You’d both known each other since college. You, a STEM major, and Eren, a Political Science major you’d happened to have a project together in a science class you both were required to take. You and Eren would hang out with each other between classes, just talking and sharing things that you two had in common. Up until recently you both had clearly been denying your feelings for each other that had lingered for years and decided it was best just to push them away, as Eren was clearly not one for commitment and you were deathly scared of having your heart broken, never being in a relationship or intimate before. Eren loved clubbing and you— being obsessed with him and always wanting to spend time with him, after a night of clubbing, grew tired of seeing him with a new woman every other day, going from girl to girl without any hesitancy. So after a lot of contemplation, you invited him over to confess. To your surprise, he immediately reciprocated your feelings.

And now a few weeks have flown by and you and Eren finally decided that you wanted to be intimate together. Only thing was, there was one teeeny tiny problem— You were a virgin, and never having orgasmed before, not to mention you were very sensitive down there— Something Eren wasn’t used to. At the moment you were laying on Erens silky bedding sheets soaked in sweat and arousal.

Now, you would think that you were sweating because of the marathon sex that you and Eren had indulged in, but no. Truth be told, Eren hadn’t even put his dick inside of you at this point. “C’mon, I don’t have all day, baby.” Erens patience hadn’t always been his best feature, even with you. “M’sorry..” Erens frustrated sigh comes out more of a shaky moan, preparing himself to take you. “Stop apologizing, bend your ass down and stop running from this shit.” His raspy voice sends shivers down your spine straight to your clit, making your inside pulse around nothing. Not wanting Eren to get any more impatient, and may save your chances of having some shred of pussy and sanity left after he is done with you.

You assume your position, his favorite— backshots, as you had been told by him previously. Attempting to give Eren the best arch possible. You looked back at him hoping that he would get the memo that you were ready, “You ready?” He asked, licking his lips seemingly with a fire lit behind his eyes, ready to ravage you. You nodded your head hoping that would be a good enough answer for him— clearly thinking wrong. SLAP “Answer me with words.” It was like his voice went 12 octaves deeper, his jaw clenched. “Y-Yes ‘Ren I’m ready to take you!” You moaned out. Your arousal getting the best of you. He gave your ass a few soft taps “Good job mama,”

Eren wasted absolutely no time slipping into your sweet tight heaven, only to be met with a tight ring of resistance. He lavished in the way that it squeezed around his cock head, making him hiss in pleasure. “F-Fuck haven’t broken one of these in a while…” you little soft Whimper at the stretching sting of his intruding tip, on instinct, your body jerks forward, sliding him out completely.

Before you could go very far, his arm landed on your shoulder, “Darlin’ I’m never gonna get to break you in if you don’t straighten up.” He gave your ass a stinging SLAP. He yanked your arms from in front of you where they were planted onto the bed to keep your balance, leaving you to fall flat on your face. Grabbing both wrists into one hand, and using his other to line himself back up again.

“Ur not gonna have the chance to run away this time, so you better buckle up.” Eren still had some type of humility in him so he continued to go gentle just for the first couple of minutes, sliding in and out of your hole so you could adjust before he finally decided to fully thrust in.

He threw his bed, head back, shamelessly and let out a loud growl, “Aw now that’s what I’m talking about!” he bit his lip as he was at peace to become forceful.

“This is some good fuckin’ pussy!” Your back arched into a C, as the pain slowly feed it out into a more pleasurable feeling your mouth became like a sink, spilling out noises that filled the room. The faster Eren went the more the bed creaked, you almost thought that it would break. “E-Eren fuuucckkk!”

Eren was entranced by the way that your ass met his pelvis, clapping back on him like a standing ovation. You thought it couldn’t get any better until you felt it— Eren had found your g-spot. “AH-shit-shit-shiiitt!” Your toes were curled almost painfully, Eren letting out a loud laugh

“Oh~? Seems I found that little button that makes your brain short circuit.” You somehow managed to free one of your hands from Eren’s tight grip, using it to push back on his hard abs— It’s laughable really, thinking Eren would take mercy on you virgin or not. When he was in the zone he was focused on making his partner cum, no matter what.

“Hands.” His voice was stern almost if you got in trouble for being caught doing something you weren’t supposed to.

“Feels weird Erennnn!” You were going crazy at this point, feeling every vein slide in and out of your soaked walls, but by the time he was done with you you’d be no more than a pile of puddy.

“Somethings coming out— F-Feels l-ike I gotta peee~!” Your legs began shaking, Eren knew you were close, hell you’d never even had an orgasam before and even you could tell.

“Mhm, it’s okay baby, ur going to squirt— just let it all out on papa.” His thrust became sharper, more aimed. With the way you were clenching Eren felt like he could cum right on the spot. Filling your pussy up with his seed and making you his. At this point he had let go of your hands and grabbed onto your hips for leverage, slamming himself into you. When you heard your friends talking about how they wish they could get some dick they could feel in their stomach, this must be what they meant because you could swear that that’s exactly where his dick was reaching and you couldn’t be told otherwise.

Tears begin to bloom in your eyes, further wetting the sheets under you. You were reaching for anything that you could grab to possibly get away from his harsh thrust. “Stop runnin’ from it and take this shit, be a good girl for me.” he leaned down growling in your ear, then taking your earlobe into his mouth to bite.

“I’m gonna cum! Oh god, I’m gonna cum!” You yelled out, screams ricocheting off his apartment walls. Erens cock had been forming a ring around his dick of cream and your wetness, he truly wanted to pick up the creamy mess with his finger and lick his digits clean.

His arms closed around your neck walking you in a chokehold he took it upon himself to begin sucking, hickeys into your shoulder in the side of your neck. His balls were slapping your clit making your eyes cross. His hand going to your chin and making you look into his eyes, enveloping you in a steamy kiss.

Pulling away he continued to look into your eyes, “You. Love. This. dick. Don’t you?” He held a firm look in his eyes, expecting no other answer than yes.

“Fuckkk yeahhh! FUCK!” You knew you were tipping over the edge when your vision was blurred white, it’s almost like the world around you disappeared, and all you could feel was the simmering heat of your orgasm. The feeling shot through like a strike of lightning, making your body lock up in your back arch almost painfully. you screamed out bloody murder, neighbors would almost think someone was plummeting a knife in your back if it weren’t for the sound on the headboard slamming against the wall. You juices slipping past your tight hold wetting up Erens pelvis.

“Ren-! Please slow down, can't take it s’ too much!” You were panting and wontonly moaning, “Take some out!” In response Eren grabs the headboard plowing into you like there’s no tomorrow, ravaging your pussy. “You creamin’ on my shit like the good girl you are?” Eren felt his orgasm approaching, quickly pulling out not wanting to cum just yet— at the night was still you and all you two had was time.

With heavy breaths, both you and Eren panting pushing himself off the bed, he grabbed your foot and pulled you to the edge pressing your knees right under your breast. “I don’t know what you think ur doin’ trying to catch a break but We’re not even close to done sweetheart.” You knew it was going to be a long night…

[gunilslaugh]

Hi! I wanted to request a fic with Jooyeon loosly based on the song Apple Cider by Beabadoobee. Idk if that's okay, but the song is about having a crush on someone but are confused - somewhat in denial about it, yet they are realizing their feelings slowly. So maybe a friends to (possible?) lovers. Hopefully, that makes sense :")

-🔮

Hello! This was fun to write I hope that you enjoy it :)

Lee Jooyeon Summary: Jooyeon doesn’t even like you that much…or does he? (non-idol au) WC:657 Warning:none

a/n: this is based on the song apple cider by beabadoobee the lyrics to the song are in italics

photo not mine credits to owner

Apple cider, that’s the main thing that you and Jooyeon have in common: liking apple cider. The two of you aren’t really even that close, so how come as midnight rolls around Jooyeon is staring at his phone hoping that you’ll call him. 

Cause it’s really nice to talk to you. Jooyeon reasoned to himself. He wants you to call him because it’s nice talking to you. The sound of your voice is really soothing to him and your conversations always feel so relaxed. Even if you two end up saying a lot of nothing. Jooyeon would still rather talk to you instead of going to bed. 

Eventually Jooyeon does fall asleep while waiting for you to make his phone ring. He wakes up in the morning next to his phone that remained silent throughout the night. A sigh deflates his lungs, but why does he feel disappointed that you didn’t call him? 

As Jooyeon gets ready for the day he throws on the gray jumper that you once complimented him on. His clothes could disappear from his closet and he wouldn’t even care because after you complimented him about his gray jumper it became the only top that he wanted to wear. 

“Jooyeon it’s so nice to see you again,” you smiled at him, pulling him to a hug. ‘Fruit punch’ Jooyeon thinks as he gets a whiff of your hair whilst you hug him. 

“Good to see you too,” he replies, arms hugging you back. They’re just a tad bit tighter than when he hugs anyone else. He ignores the way he feels his heart sink slightly as you pull away from the hug.

“I like your hair,” you tell him, appreciating the medium brown hair that adorned his head.

So go ahead and touch it. The words sat dangerously on the edge of Jooyeon’s tongue.

“Thank you,” he managed out instead.

 The two of you walk side by side as you stroll through the park. Jooyeon can feel your hand ghost against his every now and then. ‘It’d be really nice to hold your hand,’ he thought. At some point his thoughts changed to “It’s really nice to hold your hand.” He looks down at your hand linked with his. He’s not sure when it happened or how it happened. Maybe he couldn’t fight the urge anymore and slipped his hand into yours or maybe you grabbed his. Maybe you both grabbed each other’s hand at the same time.

‘And even if we’re just friends.’ Jooyeon thinks, admiring your side profile. The way the sun is lighting up your features. The stray hairs that dance in the gentle breeze. ‘We could be more than that.’

The smile takes over his face before he can do anything about it when your name lights up his phone at midnight. 

“Jooyeon hey,” you greeted him brightly. 

“Hey y/n.” The small remanence of his earlier smile still tugging at his lips.  

After a little while of talking Jooyeon began to say, “So I was thinking…” 

“Yeah?” you waited for him to continue. 

“I just wanted to ask you if it's alright to have a sleepover?” he checked. 

“Yes, that sounds so fun,” you agreed, causing Jooyeon’s heart to fill with warmth. 

“We can drink some apple cider,” he said. 

“Obviously you’re the only other person I know who’s obsessed with it,” you say. 

“Perfect,” he smiled brightly. ‘I don’t even like you that much’, so why were the butterflies throwing a celebration in his stomach at the thought of drinking apple cider with you. Both clad in your pajamas as the night dances by. ‘Wait, I do, fuck’ the realization hits him. 

“Well I’m excited for our sleepover, but I’m gonna go to bed now. Goodnight Jooyeon,” you say, snapping his attention back. 

“Me too, I’m excited to drink apple cider. Goodnight y/n.” And maybe we can talk about how we don't like each other that much.

taglist: @purplelady85 @gingerjunhan @chewednails @ezlynkisses @mon2sunjinsuver @mxlly143 @seungseung-minmin @junhanism

comment or message me to be added!

[didyoulookforme]

7 & 25 for the prompts :)

this is a different arrangement coded aka film location scout matty <3

from the prompt list here.

warning: smut. age gap. soft dom matty. impact play. grammar and spelling errors.

never in a million years did you ever think you’d be in a long-distance relationship, let alone with a man five years older than you. it wasn’t exactly something you planned for, wasn’t something you even thought you were built for, but then again, nothing about matty had ever followed the script. 

and now? now, he’s here. here for a couple of months, here in your space, your life, your mornings, your nights. 

least of all, you would’ve never thought you’d be the type of girl to be currently lying across his lap, legs draped over his, his palm warm and steady, moving slow up and down your thigh.

and to think, all of this started because of that night at his place.

you weren’t snooping. just flipping through his recordings, looking for something to put on tv, when an unexpected title caught your eye. you clicked it without thinking. and then immediately wished you hadn’t—because there, right in front of you, was a woman and a man licking between her legs.

your stomach flipped. you blinked at the screen. scrolled down. there were more. enough to make you sit back, pressing your lips together back in amusement. it didn’t take long for you to take a photo of the list and send it to him.

which one’s your favourite? xxxx

as soon as you hit send, you regretted not being able to see his reaction. all you got were the three little dots on your screen—appearing, disappearing, appearing again. until finally, he responded.

guess that’s what i get

lonely much?

sometimes. yeah.

sorry. at least you’ve got your hand to keep you company 

does the trick

suuuuure

it’s the fourth one btw and don’t judge. you asked.

and that’s how you found out matty gets off on pain being inflicted.

it didn’t take much to fish out that he’s done it, too. that it wasn’t just something he watched but something he’d made real many times prior.

which, of course, made it impossible not to wonder how it might feel.

wanna try with me?

if you ask nicely, perhaps ;)

truth was, the thought of ruining you like that got to him immediately. not that he told you. but you could tell. could hear it in the way his breath hitched when you asked if he’d finally want to do it that night. the way he went quiet when you admitted you’d never done so before.

and that’s exactly why you’re in this position now. sprawled over his lap, head resting on a cushion, heartbeat throbbing in your head, (im)patiently waiting.

“i’ll talk you through it, okay?” his mouth is close, warm against your ear.

you meet his gaze, nodding once before pressing a quick kiss to his lips that makes him beam. “sweet girl.” the words come just as he leans in, brushing a kiss to the tip of your nose, his hand firm at the curve of your ass. a slow squeeze, then another, before his palm shifts, tracing lazy circles over the thin cotton stretched across your skin.

“i’ll need you to count for me,” he soflty instructs. “start from one. count up each time. that way, i’ll know you’re good to keep going. understand?”

you swallow, nodding again.

his thumb presses a little deeper on your flesh. “and if it’s too much, you tell me, yeah?”

another nod. his lips brush your shoulder before he lifts the hem of your dress with his free hand. it’s barely even started, but already, your pulse is in your throat, heat pooling deep in your gut.

“okay, love. whenever you're ready.”

you exhale slow, curling your fingers into your palm to steady yourself. this might already be too much and it hasn’t even started. you’re pretty sure your panties are soaked through with your cum dripping on his trousers. but finally, you close your eyes and count down inside your head.

“one.”

the sound comes first—a sharp snap of fingers against cotton—before the sting follows, blooming warm across your skin. you could tell that he was gentle with you, which you appreciate him for. always being careful with you. with your eyes still closed shut, you take another deep breath and exhale, burrowing your forehead into the cushion.

“two.”

you gasp at the second strike, landing right where the first did. it lingers, a slow burn threading through your skin, settling deep in your stomach.

“you okay?” you hum and nod against the sofa as he tenderly rubs circles over your skin, as if trying to soothe the pain. it’s followed by his mouth pressing a sweet kiss on your ass. that makes you bite down a laugh.

“doing so good, sweetheart.” and that’s enough to keep you going.

“three.”

this one lands harsher, your skin now throbbing where his palm struck you. he doesn’t notice when you glance at him, but you’re taken aback at how fully absorbed he’s by you, teeth tugging on his bottom lip as he stares down at the marks he’s clearly left.

so you push it a little. shimming your hips just enough to tease him. and it works. he breathlessly laughs, shaking his head before tipping it back, letting out a soft “fuck” in return.

you barely have time to process the confidence it sparks before you feel his fingers hook into your underwear, tugging it up until the fabric bunches tight between your ass. him holding it place so now you’re on full display. keeping you still, right where he wants you. and you’d be lying if you said that didn’t make you feel fucking wanted.

“four.”

the moan spills out. you don’t even try to hold it back anymore. there’s no point. it feels too good, better than you’d ever let yourself imagine. there’s something addictive about this. about being held steady, about matty keeping you in check, guiding you through it, making sure you feel every second of it. all somehow made that much better when one of his fingers slides over your clothed cunt, caressing you gently where he knows you want him the most.

“i adore you so much, darling. s’ fucking good for me.”

“five.”

he doesn’t hesitate. the sharp smack of his fingers against your skin filling the room, quickly followed by your groans as his hand slips between your thighs. this time cupping you fully, rubbing you through the soaked cotton as his hips roll against you, making sure you feel just how much this is getting to him.

six, seven. eight. nine. ten.

it continues on until you’re so fucked out of your mind, head so clouded with pleasure that you cannot form a single word other than “stop”. and he does. immediately, without aquestion. 

you push yourself up slowly, his hands firm at your waist, guiding you as you settle onto his lap. your face tucks into the crook of his neck, his arms pulling you in, holding you close as you catch your breath. and yeah, you can’t help but feel how hard he is underneath you.

"let me help you," you murmur, fingers already moving to his belt.

but before you get far, he catches your wrist, brings it to his lips, then presses it against his shoulder instead.

he shakes his head. "i can manage. just let me take care of you, yeah?"

you can’t help yourself, shifting against him just one more time to hear him moan. but then you nod, slow and sweet, looking up at him through your lashes. his lips twitch, just slightly before he brushes your hair off your face and gives you a soft kiss.

"there’s my good girl."

[former-leftist-jew]

Do not go gentle into that good night, Old age should burn and rave at close of day; Rage, rage against the dying of the light.