#almost two years since i posted a selfie

[burger-goblin]

strawbabby blonde

[wolverigrl]

The talk

Hugh Jackman x reader (actress)

Enjoy this part 3! I hope you like it and tell me if you still like to read a next part?

!Disclaimer! In this story, Blake and Ryan have been married since 2010 and therefore had their children earlier. I changed the age of the children to make it fit.

Warnings: maybe some swearing here and there, a bit angsty and fluff, mentions of alcohol

Part 1

Part 2

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I couldn’t sleep last night. I’d been tossing and turning for hours, staring at the digital clock that blinked back at me relentlessly. When 6 a.m. finally rolled around, I gave up, threw back the covers, and dragged myself out of bed. I needed something to ground me, to keep my mind from spiraling, so I rolled out my yoga mat in front of the massive window that looked out over the New York skyline. The city was still half-asleep, but I could already feel its energy buzzing in the distance.

After a quick, but calming, yoga session, I snapped a selfie. I sat on the mat in my sports bra and leggings, my hair a messy bun, and the sunrise just starting to peek through the buildings behind me. My face looked peaceful, but inside, my stomach was a knot of nerves. Still, I posted it on Instagram, hoping the positivity from my followers might lift me a bit.

Within minutes, comments flooded in. Mostly love and support, people saying how they wished they could be as dedicated to early morning yoga as I was. But some of them worried about me. There were a few messages asking if I was okay, mentioning the paparazzi photos of yesterday. Apparently, walking through the city with Blake after the premiere turned into a full-on hangover spectacle, and people noticed. They always notice everything.

I sighed and decided to call Blake.

“Heyyy!” she greeted cheerfully, her voice always so full of life.

“Hey, Blake!"I replied, trying to sound less anxious than I felt.

I hesitated. I didn’t really want to unload on her again.

“I, uh, I’ve got Hugh coming over soon. I… I don’t know, I’m kinda nervous about it. We need to talk, and I just—I don’t know how it’s going to go.”

I heard in her voice that she was smiling. “Listen, you and Hugh will be fine. He’s a great guy. If he didn’t care about you, he wouldn’t be flirting with you so much in public. Trust me, I’ve known him for years—he doesn’t do that unless he means it.”

I bit my lip, feeling my anxiety twist and turn. “But what if… ahh.. nevermind. I’m just so confused.”

“That’s okay. As I already told you, you don’t have to figure it all out in one day. Just talk to him, be honest, and see where it goes. You’ve got this.”

Her words helped, if only a little. I thanked her, and after hanging up, I busied myself around the apartment, waiting for the knock on the door.

When it finally came, I almost jumped out of my skin. I opened the door to find Hugh standing there with a bag of bagels in one hand and two coffees in the other.

“Good morning. I brought us breakfast." he said with that charming smile of his.

We exchanged small talk as we sat down at the kitchen counter, nibbling on our food. He complimented the view, asked about my morning, and I tried to stay calm, but the tension between us was impossible to ignore. Finally, after what felt like an eternity of dancing around the subject, I took a deep breath and started the conversation I’d been dreading.

“Hugh,” I began softly, setting my half-eaten bagel down. “I don’t… I don’t know what I’m feeling. About us, I mean.”

He nodded slowly, looking at me with that warm, steady gaze that always seemed to calm me, even when I was a mess inside.

“I like you, y/n. A lot. And I’m not asking you to have all the answers right now. But I’d like to figure it out together if that’s something you want to.”

My chest tightened. “But the age thing… your kids… Hugh, it’s a lot. I don’t know if I’m ready for something so complicated.”

Hugh leaned back in his chair, a thoughtful look crossing his face. “I’ve already talked to my son about it, actually. Oscar asked me about you, and I told him the truth—that I’m happy when I’m with you. And he said that as long as I’m happy, that’s all that matters to him. Ava feels the same way, I’m sure.”

I felt tears pricking the corners of my eyes. The relief I felt, knowing that he’d already had that conversation with his son, was overwhelming. But at the same time, the weight of everything else crashed over me, and I couldn’t hold back the tears any longer.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, wiping at my eyes as the tears fell.

Hugh got up and pulled me up from the chair so that I stood in front of him. His arms wrapped me in a soft hug, and his fingers tilted my chin up slightly so he could kiss the tip of my nose. It was a soft, sweet gesture that made my heart skip.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he murmured. “We’ll take it slow. One step at a time. We don’t need to rush anything.”

I nodded, sniffling a bit. “Slow sounds good. Maybe we could… you know, go on real dates? But keep things quiet for now.”

He smiled again, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Yeah, Blake and Ryan can know, but no one else. At least for now.”

We finished breakfast and cleaned up, and soon we found ourselves on the couch. Hugh wrapped his arm around me, pulling me close. For a while, we just sat there, the silence comforting, our worries temporarily pushed to the side.

I couldn’t help myself. I had to ask. “Did you… did you mean it? That kiss in the gym?”

Hugh chuckled, glancing down at me with that familiar playful spark in his eyes. “Was that not obvious?”

I felt my face heat up, a slow blush spreading across my cheeks. I shrugged, trying to play it off, but the vulnerability in my voice betrayed me. “I had other things on my mind.”

He laughed softly, the sound warm and infectious, and I found myself smiling despite the butterflies in my stomach. There was something so disarming about him, the way he could make me feel at ease even when my heart was racing. His gaze held mine, the tension between us thickening, and suddenly, I couldn’t resist any longer.

Without thinking, I leaned in, brushing my lips against his. It was tentative at first, as if testing the waters, but the moment he responded, everything else faded away. His lips were soft and warm, moving gently against mine, and the kiss quickly deepened, growing more intense with each passing second.

My heart pounded in my chest, the heat between us rising as my hands found their way to his shoulders, gripping them tightly. Hugh’s arms circled my waist, pulling me closer until I was practically sitting on his lap. His hands were firm yet tender, one resting on the small of my back, the other moving up to cradle the side of my face as the kiss continued to build in intensity.

I felt my breath hitch as his lips trailed from mine to the corner of my mouth, then along my jawline, his stubble grazing my skin in the most delicious way. My pulse quickened as I let out a soft sigh, my fingers tangling in his short, soft hair. The sensation of his lips on my neck sent shivers down my spine, my entire body humming with anticipation.

Hugh's hand slid down to my back, pulling me closer to him. I could feel the heat radiating off him, the hard lines of his body pressing against mine, and it sent my mind spinning. His touch was gentle but sure, his fingers tracing small circles on my lower back, grounding me even as everything else felt like it was spinning out of control.

His mouth returned to mine, the kiss now slow and deliberate, as if we had all the time in the world. His tongue teased my lips, and I opened up to him, the kiss deepening as our breaths mingled, the air between us growing hotter. Every nerve in my body was on fire, the warmth of his touch, the weight of his hands, the way he held me, as if I were something precious. I felt safe and reckless all at once, the thrill of being so close to him coursing through me like electricity.

Hugh’s grip tightened on my waist, his hands sliding down to my hips, and I could feel the heat pooling low in my stomach, a heady mix of desire and disbelief that this was actually happening. His lips parted from mine just long enough for me to catch a shaky breath, my eyes fluttering open to meet his. His gaze was dark, intense, and filled with the same want that was swirling inside me.

I couldn’t stop myself. I leaned back in, kissing him with more urgency this time, my hands slipping from his shoulders to his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing beneath my fingertips. His body was firm under my touch, and the sensation sent another rush of heat through me. I pressed closer to him, my lips hungry for more, and he responded in kind, his hands roaming over my back.

My pulse raced, and I felt the world narrowing down to just the two of us—the heat of our bodies, the taste of his lips, the way his hands moved over me, every touch igniting something deeper, something I couldn’t control.

Then, out of nowhere, his phone buzzed.

We both froze, breathless, still tangled together. I pulled back just slightly, still feeling the heat of his breath on my lips. "You should get that," I whispered, my voice barely above a whisper, my heart pounding in my ears.

Hugh let out a low groan of frustration but reluctantly reached for his phone. He glanced at the screen and sighed. “It’s Ryan.”

I smirked, trying to catch my breath. Of course, it was Ryan.

Hugh answered, still holding me close as if he wasn’t ready to let go just yet. “Hey, mate.” he greeted casually, though I could hear the slight edge of impatience in his voice.

Ryan’s voice was loud enough that I could hear him through the phone. “So, dinner at our place today? You and y/n should come by.”

Hugh blinked in surprise, clearly caught off guard. “How do you know y/n's with me?”

Ryan’s laugh was almost smug. “Call it a hunch.”

Hugh shook his head, glancing at me with a playful smile. “You in?”

I nodded, still a bit breathless, my fingers absentmindedly playing with the fabric of his t-shirt. “Sure.”

He confirmed with Ryan and then hung up, looking back at me with a soft smile. “Let’s go for a walk before dinner.”

I grinned. The idea of sneaking through the streets with him was somehow exciting. But then reality hit. “You should probably… go get changed." I suggested, glancing down at the clothes he was wearing. "Something more undercover."

Hugh nodded, gently setting me next to him and standing up. "I'll swing by my place and change. Give me a few minutes, and I'll come back for you."

He pressed one more quick kiss to my forehead before heading out the door, leaving me sitting there, my heart still racing from the kiss. I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to calm the fire that was still burning inside me. It was impossible to believe that just a few moments ago, I had been straddling Hugh Jackman in my living room, kissing him like my life depended on it.

True to his word, Hugh returned not long after, dressed down in a baseball cap, sunglasses, and a hoodie, looking like a celebrity who's trying to avoid attention. I slipped on a casual jacket and sunglasses, and we headed out, blending into the afternoon crowds as we walked through the streets of New York.

As we wandered, the conversation flowed easily. We talked about work—how his latest project was going, how I was handling mine. We shared stories and joked about the craziness of the industry, but somewhere along the way, the conversation grew more personal. Hugh asked me about my childhood, about the things that made me who I was, and I found myself opening up to him in a way I hadn’t expected.

He told me stories about his kids, about how Oscar was so curious about everything, how Ava was growing into her own person, full of ideas and opinions. Hearing him talk about them made me see another side of him—so caring, so deeply connected to his family. It only made me like him more.

We asked each other questions that weren’t surface level, diving into the things that really mattered, like what we wanted in life, what we were afraid of. The more we talked, the more I realized again how easy it was to be with him, how natural it felt.

Before I knew it, hours had passed, and the sun was beginning to dip low in the sky. We made our way back to my apartment, where Hugh dropped me off so I could get ready for dinner at Blake and Ryan’s. He gave me one short peck before heading back to his place to change.

As I stood in front of my mirror, touching up my makeup and fixing my hair, I couldn’t stop thinking about the kiss, about how right it had felt. Today had been full of surprises, but for the first time, I wasn’t scared of where this might lead. Hugh and I were taking it slow, figuring things out as we went, and somehow, that was enough for now.

When Hugh came back to pick me up, we were both ready for whatever the rest of the day had in store. We were in this together.

The moment we stepped through the door at Blake and Ryan’s, the familiar sound of tiny feet pattering across the floor reached my ears. Before I knew it, all three of their daughters—James, Betty, and Inez—came running toward us, their faces lighting up in excitement.

“Y/n! Hugh!” they squealed in unison, their voices high-pitched with joy.

I couldn’t help but grin as I bent down to greet them, enveloping each one of them in a warm hug. Hugh followed suit, gently embracing them, his face soft with affection. Ryan stood in the doorway, arms crossed with a playful smile on his face.

“I swear, they get more excited when you two show up than when Blake and I come home." Ryan quipped, shaking his head as if the betrayal was real.

I chuckled, ruffling Betty’s hair as she beamed up at me. “Well, I mean, we are the fun ones.”

Blake walked up behind him, smirking as she shrugged her shoulders. “Can you really blame them?” she said, giving Ryan a teasing nudge.

Before I could respond, the seven-year-old James grabbed my hand and started pulling me toward the living room. “Come on, y/n! I want to show you something!”

I let her guide me into the cozy room, where Penny and Baxter, the two dogs, were lounging lazily on the floor. James hurried over to a corner piled high with toys and grabbed two Barbie dolls, her excitement radiating off her.

“Look!” she said, holding up the first Barbie. “This one looks just like you!” The doll was dressed in sporty clothes that reminded me of what I’d worn in my recent Instagram post. “And this one." she added, grabbing the second doll, “looks like Mommy.”

I laughed softly, touched by her creativity. “Wow, you nailed it! I can totally see the resemblance.”

As I sat down with her to admire her Barbie collection, I noticed Hugh standing in the doorway, his smile widening as he watched us. But before he could come over, Betty and Inez had already ambushed him, grabbing onto his legs and giggling uncontrollably.

“Hugh! Hugh!” Inez exclaimed, her arms wrapped tightly around one of his legs. “Can we watch the Minions again? Please? Pleeease?”

Betty chimed in, nodding with equal enthusiasm. “Yeah, can we?”

Ryan strolled into the room, laughing as he leaned against the doorframe. “Again? How many times have you guys watched that now? Fifty? Sixty?”

Hugh chuckled, ruffling Betty’s hair. “Maybe after dinner, alright? You two might know it better than I do at this point.”

Just then, Blake called out from the dining room, “Okay, everyone, dinner’s ready! Let’s give Hugh a break and get some food in your bellies first.”

We all made our way to the dining room, and as I sat down at the beautifully set table, I couldn’t help but admire the spread. Blake had outdone herself again.

“This looks incredible!" I commented as I took my seat, glancing appreciatively at the dishes laid out before us.

Blake smiled, waving off the compliment. “Ah, it’s nothing. Ryan helped, too.”

Ryan straightened in his chair, pretending to be the world’s greatest chef. “Yeah, I practically made the entire thing,” he boasted, earning a playful elbow to the side from Blake.

While we ate and talked about today's events, I noticed that James, Betty, and Inez had already finished their meals. The three of them looked up at Blake and Ryan with wide, pleading eyes.

"Mom, Dad, can we go play with Penny and Baxter now? Please?" James asked, practically bouncing in her seat with excitement.

Ryan exchanged a glance with Blake before nodding. "Alright, you three can go. Just don’t feed the dogs under the table again." he added with a mock sternness that made the girls giggle.

The kids squealed and scrambled out of their chairs, racing back toward the living room where the dogs were waiting for them. Blake shook her head fondly as she watched them go, and we all settled back into the conversation.

I was right in the middle of talking about something funny that had happened at work when my phone buzzed in my pocket. I excused myself, stepping outside to take the call. When I saw Chris Evans’ name on the screen, I smiled.

“Hey, Chris!” I greeted, leaning against the side of the house.

“Y/n!" Chris’s voice came through with its usual warmth. “I’m heading down to New York tomorrow. Wanna grab a beer?”

I smiled. “Absolutely! Let’s meet at the pub we always go to. How’s 7 p.m.?”

“Perfect!" Chris replied. “Looking forward to catching up.”

We wrapped up the conversation, and I headed back inside. As I slipped into my seat, Hugh gave me a gentle smile and placed his hand on my leg under the table, his touch grounding me.

“Everything okay?” he asked softly, his thumb stroking my thigh in a way that sent a small wave of comfort through me.

I nodded, returning his smile. “Yeah, all good. Just Chris Evans. He’s coming to New York tomorrow, so we’re grabbing a drink.”

Ryan’s ears perked up immediately, and his eyes twinkled with mischief. “Oh, Captain America, huh? Should Hugh be worried?”

Blake chuckled beside him, clearly in on the joke. I rolled my eyes, laughing. “No, no need to worry. Chris is like an older brother to me.”

Hugh looked intrigued, glancing between Ryan and me. “You and Chris go way back?”

I nodded, leaning back in my chair as I began to explain. “Yeah, Chris, Scarlett Johansson, and I studied together in New York when we were both starting out. They were a few years ahead of me, but we ended up in the same acting workshops. We hit it off and became good friends.”

Blake leaned forward, curiosity written all over her face. “Oh, you never told me your stories of university! You must have some great ones.”

Ryan grinned. “Come on, spill! Any embarrassing moments with Captain America and Black Widow?”

I laughed. “Oh, tons. Like the time they got lost in Central Park for two hours and missed class. Scarlett shook it off, but Chris was so mortified, and we all gave him a hard time for it.”

Ryan cracked up at the image, and Hugh smiled, though I could tell he was focused on every word. “That sounds like him." Ryan said. “Always such a big goof.”

Blake leaned closer, clearly digging for more. “Didn’t you two do a movie together a few years back? Weren’t there some pretty steamy scenes in that one?”

I felt my cheeks warm slightly at the memory. “Yeah, we did." I admitted, chuckling. “It was a bit... awkward, though, because by then, Chris really did feel more like a brother to me.”

Ryan, however, wasn’t about to let me off the hook that easily. “Wait, so it wasn’t always that way?”

I hesitated for a beat, then shrugged, smiling sheepishly. “Well.. back when we were in school, we might’ve had a little... thing. You know, one of those fleeting ‘we’re young and in New York’ flings. But it didn’t last long. Now, he’s definitely more of a brother figure.”

Blake’s eyes widened in shock, her hand flying to her mouth as she burst out laughing. “Y/n! You never told me you and Chris had a fling!”

Ryan nearly doubled over in laughter, slapping the table. “Oh my god, Hugh, you hearing this? Captain America and y/n!”

Hugh laughed, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes, and I noticed the slight tension in his jaw. He gave a half-hearted chuckle, glancing at me with a mix of amusement and something else—something I couldn’t quite place.

Blake continued to laugh, shaking her head. “I can’t believe you kept that from me!”

I shrugged, feeling a little embarrassed but laughing along with them. “It was a long time ago! And honestly, when we filmed that movie, it just felt... weird. I mean, trying to be sexy with someone who you now see as a brother? Not the easiest thing.”

Ryan wiped a tear from his eye, still chuckling. “I bet those scenes were really uncomfortable to shoot.”

“They were." I admitted, rolling my eyes good-naturedly. “But Chris was a total professional about it.”

Hugh remained quiet for a moment, still smiling, but I could tell something about the story didn’t sit quite right with him.

“So, what was it like studying here in New York? It sounds like it was a pretty wild time.” Blake wiggled with her eyebrows.

I grinned, thinking back to those chaotic, exciting days. “It definitely had its moments. The city was also back then a constant whirlwind. We were all broke, doing odd jobs between auditions, but somehow, it was the best time of my life.”

Ryan leaned back in his chair, raising an eyebrow. “Oh, I bet. Was it all method acting and deep emotional discovery, or were you guys just trying to out-party each other?”

I laughed. “A little bit of both, honestly. There were definitely nights when we all showed up to class with way too little sleep.”

Ryan smirked, clearly enjoying himself. “And Captain America was part of those late-night adventures?”

I rolled my eyes. “Chris was usually the responsible one, believe it or not. He’d be the guy dragging everyone out of some dive bar at 2 a.m., telling us we had early classes. Of course, he wasn’t always that responsible...”

Hugh’s interest was piqued, his eyes twinkling. “You and Chris really went through it together, huh?”

I nodded, smiling at the memories. “Yeah, we had a lot of fun. We’d rehearse scenes together, mess around in the park, just being broke, and ambitious kids trying to make it.”

Ryan, never missing a beat, chimed in again. “So what you’re saying is, if Chris wasn’t Captain America, he could’ve been, I dunno, some Shakespearean actor, dragging everyone through intense rehearsals and then buying them all hot dogs afterward?”

I laughed. “Exactly! The perfect balance of intense and laid-back.”

"What other stories do you have up your sleeve?" Ryan grinned and put his arm around his wife.

“Well.. while studying, I also worked as a barista, and believe me, I was a terrible barista.” I started, chuckling at the memory.

Blake raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Wait, you worked at a coffee shop?”

I nodded. “Yeah, I needed to pay rent somehow, so I got a job at this little café near campus. It was my first day, and I was already a nervous wreck. The owner was this sweet, older man—kind of like a grandpa figure to everyone. But I was so jittery that when he came over to check how I was doing, I somehow managed to spill an entire tray of coffee and raspberry cake all over him.”

Everyone at the table burst into laughter, especially Ryan, who wiped a fake tear from his eye. “Oh, that’s priceless. What did he do?”

I grinned at the memory. “He just stood there for a second, covered in coffee, and then he started laughing. He looked at me and said, ‘Well, at least you didn’t burn me.’ From then on, he teased me about it every single shift. He’d walk past me and say, ‘Careful, y/n, hot beverages on the loose!’ It was actually really sweet.”

Blake smiled, shaking her head. “Sounds like he was a good guy.”

“Yeah, he was the best." I agreed. “Honestly, he was one of the reasons I stuck around for so long.”

Hugh, who had been listening intently, suddenly leaned forward with a small smile. “Well, since we’re sharing job stories… the ladies might not know this, but before I became an actor, I was a P.E. teacher in England.”

I blinked, caught completely off guard. “Wait, what? You were a teacher? That’s crazy!”

Ryan immediately jumped in with a wide grin. “Oh man, y/n, can you imagine if Hugh had been your teacher back then? You would’ve been the star student in P.E., right?”

I felt my cheeks flush, laughing at the absurd thought. “Honestly, if Hugh had been my teacher, I think I would’ve suddenly developed an intense love for sports.”

Blake burst out laughing while Hugh chuckled, shaking his head at our comments. “Yeah, I can’t imagine that would’ve been appropriate,” Hugh said, still smiling, though his ears were a little pink.

Ryan leaned back in his chair, still grinning. “Hey, you never know. Maybe you’d have inspired her to get into, I don’t know, gymnastics or something.”

Blake swatted Ryan on the arm, but she was laughing just as hard. “Leave them alone! Besides, I bet Hugh was an amazing teacher.”

Hugh shrugged modestly. “It was a good job, honestly. I loved working with the kids, but eventually, I realized my passion was acting.”

I turned to him, still amazed. “That’s so cool, though. I would’ve never guessed. You’ve had quite the journey.”

He smiled warmly at me, and I could see a glimmer of pride in his eyes, as if the memories of his teaching days still meant something to him. “It was definitely a unique chapter in my life. But hey, everything leads you somewhere, right?”

Ryan couldn’t resist one more joke, leaning in with a sly grin. “Yeah, and luckily, it led you to us, huh?”

The conversation slowed down after that, everyone quietly soaking in the warmth of the room and each other’s company. Blake glanced around the table, then clapped her hands together.

“Well, how about we clear the table and grab some wine?”

Hugh and I immediately stood up, ready to help, but Blake waved us off. “Oh no, you two relax. Ryan and I have it covered.”

Ryan was already stacking plates and giving us a wink. “Yeah, sit tight, lovebirds.”

As we sat back down, Hugh placed his hand gently on my thigh, his touch making me feel all warm and cozy inside. He smiled at me, that tender look in his eyes that always made my heart skip a beat.

Feeling a bit giddy, I leaned in closer to him and whispered. “Do you think we should tell them about us now? Or wait until another time?”

Hugh’s thumb rubbed small circles against my leg as he considered it. “Yeah, let’s tell them. They’re our best friends—they should know we’re giving this a shot.”

His quiet confidence soothed the last of my nerves, and I couldn’t help myself. I leaned in and gave him a quick kiss, just as the door to the dining room swung open, and Ryan strutted back in, carrying wine glasses.

“Ohohoh! What’s this? What did I just miss?” he teased, his voice dripping with mock shock. “And don’t forget, there are children in this house!”

Blake followed right behind him, her eyes darting between us, a curious smile playing on her lips. “What’s going on in here?” she asked, setting down a bottle of wine.

Hugh chuckled softly and glanced at me before addressing them both. “Actually, we wanted to tell you guys something. Y/n and I... well, we’re trying this thing out. We’re seeing where it goes.”

There was a brief moment of silence as Blake and Ryan exchanged looks, their expressions quickly morphing into wide grins. Blake let out a little squeal of excitement.

“Oh my god! You talked!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands together. “You two are adorable!”

Ryan set down the glasses with a loud clink, looking between Hugh and me with that signature playful grin of his. “Well, it’s about damn time! You guys have been giving off major will-they-won’t-they vibes for ages.”

Blake nodded enthusiastically. “I’m so happy for you guys.”

Their support and enthusiasm washed over me, easing any lingering uncertainty I had. Hugh squeezed my hand under the table, and I couldn’t help but smile up at him, grateful for how effortlessly everything seemed to fall into place.

Ryan, never one to miss a joke, raised his glass toward us. “Here’s to y/n and Hugh—and to all the future awkward family dinners where we can tease you both relentlessly.”

Blake snorted with laughter, pouring everyone a glass of wine. “Don’t worry, we’ll go easy on you. Sometimes.”

We all raised our glasses, clinking them together in a toast to new beginnings.

The conversation flowed easily as we all continued to drink our wine, sharing more stories and laughing until our glasses were empty. Eventually, we decided to join the kids in the living room. As soon as we walked in, Inez grabbed my hand, pulling me toward her pile of Barbies, while Penny and Baxter trotted over to greet us.

I sat on the floor with one hand helping Inez arrange her Barbies while my other hand stroked Baxter, who had curled up next to me. The rest of the group settled on the couches, chatting and laughing as the kids played around us.

We spent a while there enjoying the comfortable, laid-back atmosphere, but eventually, I felt a yawn escape me. Ryan noticed it immediately and pointed dramatically.

“Alright, I think it’s official—time for all the kids to head to bed!” he teased, earning a laugh from Blake and a chorus of giggles from the actual children.

I chuckled, shaking my head. “I guess I walked right into that one.”

Blake stood up and stretched, signaling that the evening was winding down. “Yeah, we should probably wrap things up before we have to carry anyone out of here.”

We all said our goodbyes, exchanging hugs and thanking each other for the great night. As we stepped outside, Hugh and I found ourselves standing by our cars, lingering in the cool night air.

I smiled up at him, feeling the warmth of the evening still lingering between us. “So, what’s on your agenda for tomorrow?”

Hugh shrugged lightly. “Not too exciting, honestly. I’m helping a friend with some work on his house in the morning, then I’ve got a doctor’s appointment and after that, I’m calling my brother to talk about my visit in Sydney to catch up with my family.”

I nodded. “Sounds like a busy day. Hometown huh?"

“Yeah, it’s been a while since I’ve seen everyone." he said softly, then smiled at me. “What about you? Plans with Chris?”

I grinned, the thought of seeing Chris again making me feel both nostalgic and excited. “Yeah, but we’re not meeting until the evening for a drink. Until then I'll call my parents because I promised them last week and after that I'll meet up with my management."

For a moment, we stood there, the air between us feeling charged in a quiet, tender way. After a small pause, we leaned into each other at the same time. He wrapped one arm around my waist, and the other hand found its way to my cheek. Our lips met in a slow, tentative kiss.

When we pulled away, there was a comfortable silence between us, our eyes lingering on each other as if neither of us wanted to say goodbye just yet. I gently stroked my hands over his shoulders down to his chest.

“Well." I said, my voice a little softer than usual. "I guess I’ll see you soon. Good night."

Hugh nodded, his smile warm and easy. “Yeah, good night y/n. Text me when you're home."

"Will do." I smiled.

With that, we each got into our cars, and as I drove home, my mind wandered back to the evening—Blake and Ryan’s support, the kids, the laughter, the stories, and of course, the kisses. My heart felt lighter than it had in a long time, and I couldn’t help but smile as I thought about tomorrow’s meeting with Chris.

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@spectorrrhgf @tinawantstobeadoll @appetencyfortacos @weskerussy @kellyxo1 @larkkyoris

Next part

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

The Return of Superman- Mark

(cw: f!reader called “mama”, a child duh)

Mark had spent a good few decades with a lot of his life documented on cameras. There were music videos, behind the scenes vlogs, cameras, talk shows, selfies, you name it- he did it. There was however, one area of his life that wasn't show or documented for the public. That was you, your marriage, and his son.

There had of course been the announcement on SM's end about Mark being in a relationship, then there was SM the announcement five years later about the two of you being married paired with a post from Mark with a wedding picture of the two of you where your face wasn't seen, and then the last announcement 3 years ago announcing the birth of his son.

Mark completely understood and agreed with your apprehension to show aspects of your life to the public, especially regarding your son. There was the occasional post with you and you can recall the uproar it caused across social media when Mark finally posted your full face on his public account. It was complete madness. People had managed to track down your place of work and even found other pictures of you from your friend's account. You had reason to be apprehensive regarding the privacy of you family.

However, as your son got older, you and Mark got more comfortable sharing more and more about your life, still being mindful of your privacy. So when Mark's managers called and mentioned his own episode on The Return of Superman, you had both discussed it and cautiously agreed with a few conditions. Conditions that were met with no argument since Mark was such a big celebrity to lock in.

--

Mark was sitting in the confessional, the familiar black curtain behind him as he introduced himself to the camera, "uh yeah, hi. My name is Mark Lee, I've been a member of NCT since 2016. My wife and I have been married for almost 9 years and our son is 3 years old."

He pauses as he listens to a producer as a question. He chuckles and shakes his head, "My son and I spend a lot of time together, but loves his mom. I try to take him out for some father and son bonding, but he cries for mom after an hour, when he play together he always involves her. It's great, I obviously love her too, but I think these few days the two of us will be kind of rough."

The scene cuts to the cameras panning over the space of yours and Mark's home as the commentators laugh and predict what they think will happen.

Mark is shown sitting up in bed, rubbing his eyes tiredly before putting on his glasses and heading for his son's room. You had left the night before for a much needed girl's weekend with friends. You waited until your son was gone, peppering his chubby cheeks with kisses as he slept in his toddler bed before sneaking out of the room and bidding Mark goodbye with his own barrage of kisses and watery eyes. You knew Mark would be fine alone. He was a good dad and his confidence had skyrocketed once his son had grown out of the shaky steps phase.

"Wow, that is such a cool boy room!" One of the commentators marveled as the camera in Mark's son’s room showed the room covered in Spider-man. He had Spider-man sheets, blankets, wall stickers, toys, books- everything.

Mark smiled softly at the sight of his son sprawled across his little bed, still deeply asleep. Mark made his way to the kitchen and began making breakfast. He turned on the rice maker and began cracking eggs into the pan, watching tiredly as they turned from translucent to white.

One commentator cleared her throat, "this is interesting. Isn't it well-known that Mark can't cook eggs? I wonder if he's gotten better or his son likes them?"

The scene shows Mark and his son sitting at the dining table, his son blinking slowly and using both his hands to keep his head up. Mark laughs softly, scooping up a spoonful of rice and fried egg to feed his son. Usually, he'd be able to feed himself but this morning he's just too sleepy and Mark admittedly likes babying him. He is still a baby.

His son tiredly chews, his eyebrows furrowing and his face falling into one of confusion. He opens his eyes fully as he leans away from the next spoonful of food heading for him. "What's that?" his little voice asks as his finger points at the egg.

"It's eggs and rice, bub. Say ah," Mark instructs.

"Mama made it?" his son asks while turning his cheek away from the spoon.

"No, I made it," Mark replies, deciding to instead take the bite of food for himself.

His son scrunches his face up and takes the fried egg from his bowl and places it into Mark's, "yucky, Appa. No thank you!"

Mark tilts his head back with a roll of his eyes as the commentators laugh and compliment his son's good manners despite him calling the egg 'yucky.'

The scene cuts to Mark and his son standing in the entryway of your home, putting on their shoes. As Mark opens the door, his son freezes, "is Mama sick?"

Mark is hesitant to respond, "no, Mama isn't here. Remember it's going to be just me and you until tomorrow night?"

He can hear the familiar catch of his son's breath as he nervously looks up at Mark, "she's ok? She's coming tomorrow?"

Mark feels his heart melt, and the commentators all aww and coo over how cute the 3 year old is. Mark crouches down in front of him, picking him up and hosting him onto his hip, "of course she's coming back. Come on, we're going to go ride bikes at the park and get dinner with uncles later. Does that sound fun?"

His son sniffles and nods, "and ice cream?"

Mark laughs, "yes, and ice cream."

--

The camera crew follows Mark and his son around the park, watching as Mark teaches the boy to pedal and steer the bike. He eventually gets the hang of it and begins riding around on his own with a big smile. His little laughs and giggles fill the air as he zooms in every direction much faster than Mark or any of the cameramen expected, especially the cameraman tasked with following the boy around with his heavy camera.

It's all going well, no tears, no complaints, not even a mention of you, until the tricycle comes to an abrupt stop and turns when it gets too close to the edge of the grass. Mark sprints over the second he sees the tricycle teeter over and makes it to his son before the tears start.

He keeps calm as he looks his son over for any wounds, finding none and immediately being filled with relief. His son must have just gotten scared from the fall. Nonetheless Mark holds him close and rocks him as he cries into Mark's t-shirt.

"I want Mama," his son cries.

"I know buddy, I'm sorry. Does it hurt anywhere?"

His son continues to cry and shakes his head, his sobs turning into sniffles as he calms down. Mark pushes the hair away from his son's forehead and presses a long kiss to the sweaty skin, "you are being so brave, bub. I know it was scary, huh? I am so proud of you."

"And Mama too?" his son asks with watery eyes.

"Yes, and Mama too. You can tell her all about it when she comes home tomorrow. You can tell her that you heal fast like Spider-man."

His son perks up and his eyes brighten, "like Spider-man?"

Mark nods and stands, with his son in one arm and the tricycle in the other, "Oh yeah, big guy. Just like Spider-man, whenever he gets scared he keeps going, right?"

This sets his son off on his little tangent about Spider-man fighting the Green Goblin, then Doc Oc, and how he uses his webs and how the bad guy loses and Spider-man always wins.

The scene cuts to Mark in the confessional, "I really have enjoyed my time on the show, but I may be worse than my son. If you have me back, can she stay too? Please."

[hotnbloodied]

Yandere Streamer X Reader

!Warning! This post contains yandere themes and topics that may be uncomfortable to people who are sensitive to the topic, read at your own discretion.

CW: not proof read, y/n mentioned, gn reader for the most part, power imbalance.

!!READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION!! MINORS DNI!!

So tiring, you were ready to go home and just unwind and relax. When you finally got home you tossed your clothes in the hamper and hopped into the shower, the water feeling like it was washing away the sins of the day. After your shower you pop one of your readily prepared meals into the microwave for dinner while you dry your hair. After eating your food with a side of tik tok videos you laid in your bed, mobile device still in hand you get a notification that your favorite streamer was live so you click on it. The streamer was actually someone you knew back in high school named Alex but that might have been too liberal of a term. Both of you never actually spoke to each other but you always admired him from afar. He was always charismatic and funny so you couldn’t help but steal glances at him back then. So when you stumbled on to one of his streams when he was still a smaller streamer you had to drop a follow, since then you’ve been one of his regulars.

The stream starts and he’s doing his thing, he makes you smile and you talk in chat with him and the other chatters. At a point he stops and talks about the meet and greet at a mall that was in your city that he was hosting. You had forgotten about that, but it wasn’t like you had anything to do this weekend so you made a mental note about stopping by.

On the day of the event you arrived a little after the starting time and knew you were at the right place due to the appearance of the crowd. While in line you double checked the care package that you brought for him along with your autograph book. By the time it was your turn you had your camera ready but walking up to him you didn’t expect him to recognize you. “Oh my gosh! (y/n) is that you?” he exclaims. Your face flushes as you respond, “it’s been a while, I didn’t expect you to recognize me.” You gave him the care package you prepared and took a selfie before he signed your book. After parting you took a look at the signature only to realize that he gave you his number. That’s when the texting started.

The day after you started texting him you two constantly texted back and forth, he updated you on everything it felt like and it made you do the same towards him. It almost felt surreal that you were texting someone who was now famous even if it was internet fame. One day he was talking about how he wishes the two of you could hang out in person more so he invited you over to his place, you didn’t think much of it and accepted his offer. But a week later you suddenly get calls from your other friends congratulating you on your new relationship, confused, you asked them what they meant. Links of internet articles and posts were made of you and Alex were sent your way. Frantically, you called him, “what is going on Alex? Is this because I’ve been hanging out at your place?” “Hi Darling! I assumed you saw the news, I just decided to might as well let the cat out of the bag,” he laughed. Your heart drops and you try to steady your voice as you ask him, “did you know this was going to happen?” He giggled, fucking giggled, “if you know what’s best for you darling you’ll start packing and move in with me, I can protect you now that your face is plastered throughout the internet. Unless you think you can run from me? Who are the fans going to trust? Me? A streamer they’ve been watching for years or a nobody?” He paused. “I’ll see you at home darling.”

The call disconnects, but the phone is still to your ear. Your head is downcast and you can’t feel your legs. With one swift motion you hurl your phone at the wall and collapse to the ground. Was this destiny? Or was it a curse?

[slayfics]

Explosive tendencies a slow burn fanfic about the readers developing relationship with Katsuki Bakugo.

Chapter one: You stalk Katsuki’s social media page.

Chapter links

Your phone lit up with a notification buzzing on your desk. You pick up your phone to see a notification from Instagram and see that Izuku has followed you. You curiously look at his page and see that it has an overwhelming amount of All Might photos, then click over to see who else he is following and quickly realize he has followed everyone from the class.

You had just recently started your first year at U.A. and still hadn't interacted too much with your other classmates. So curiosity got the best of you as you scrolled through Izuku's following list to look at some of your classmate's pages to get a better understanding of them.

You glanced at many of your classmates pages. Mina's page was super pink and most photos were either selfies or her or her out with friends. She seemed to have an easy time making friends and getting along with others. She was probably the classmate you had the most interactions with. Purely because she would come up to you as if she had already known you her whole life. Much like she did to everyone else.

Shoto's page was empty expect for one picture of soba.

Eijiro's page had only two photos. One of the pro hero Crimson Riot and another was a selfie with his bright red hair. You couldn't help but wonder if some of your classmates deleted their old photo's to start over fresh at U.A.

Kyoka had a bunch of pictures of concerts and band albums with a few pictures of herself in between.

Tenya had a bunch of picture's of books he read and recommended.

Continuing to scroll through Izuku's following list you stopped when coming across Katsuki's page.

You clicked on his page and scrolled through the few pictures he had. Your cheeks flushed ever so slightly looking at one of the selfies he had posted.

You weren't sure why but something about him had caught your attention. Ever since being in the same group as him in the U.A. entrance exam, you had found yourself curious about him. All of your other classmates seemed to be put off by his constant angry demeanor, but something about his tenacity made you want to know more about him.

You pulled your knees into your chest as you stared at your phone. Your phone was unlocked sitting idly on Katsuki's Instagram page. The bright screen illuminated your dimmed room.

You twirled your hair absentmindedly as you debated following him. Just do it, don't be a coward you told yourself. You swiftly picked up your phone and clicked follow then locked and dropped your phone down back on your desk.

To your surprise, your phone buzzed again shortly after, you quickly looked and felt your heart flutter. He had liked one of your pictures. Not just a picture, but a picture of yourself you posted a few days ago.

Your face flushed as you held your phone in your hand. Suddenly, your phone dinged with another notification making you jump.

He had followed back.

You gripped your phone in your hand harder as you scrolled over to direct message him and stared at the page feeling your cheeks get even warmer. Come on just say something, you tried to hype yourself up.

He liked your picture and followed you back so obviously that means something right? Fuck it just do it you said to yourself and typed out a message.

"Hey I never got a chance to ask what happened after we split up?"

You typed and sent swiftly before you lost your nerve. During a training for your class at USJ some villains had broken in and attacked the class. You were split up with Bakugo and Kirishima for a short time before the two boys decided to go after more of the villains while you went back to the exit with the rest of the class.

You set your phone down not expecting an answer any time soon but you were surprised to see three dots appear almost immediately. Your heart dropped at the next message.

"What’s your address? I’ll Come over and tell you all about it."

What?! Were you reading that right?? You never expected that response. Your hands started to shake a bit.

It was late and surely the others in the house wouldn’t approve of having him over at this time. Fuck- you knew you were supposed to be on your best behavior since starting U.A. but… how were you supposed to say no.

"You ok with sneaking in?"

"Yeah just hurry up and send your address."

Before putting any more thought into it you typed out your address and pressed send.

Oh crap- You looked around your room and noticed all the stuffed animals on your bed. You quickly shoved them all in the closet along with some loose clothes that were around your room.

It wasn't long before you heard a loud explosion from outside and your phone dinged again with a notification.

"Which window is yours?"

You opened your window and saw Katsuki standing outside, within a split second of spotting you he had used his quirk to be at your window seal. You backed up as he jumped into your room.

"Uh- Hi," You greeted him trying to sound confident but it was evident in your voice you were nervous.

Katsuki sat on your bed leaning back against the wall.

"So you want to know what happened?" He asked, his face adorned with his usual smirk.

"Yeah," you said, as you sat down in the chair at your desk facing Katsuki.

"We found the other villains and I took down that warp gate villain, which slowed the rest of them down."

"Wow really?!" You said, amazed. You knew All Might had shown up and taken over so you didn't expect to hear that Katsuki had played that much of a part in the fight.

"Fucking Deku got in my way though!" Katsuki yelled.

"Hey are you alright?" You heard someone else in the house call from outside the room as they approached your door.

"Shit!" You grabbed Katsuki by his shirt and shoved him into your closet. Just in time for them to knock on your door.

You opened your door, "Yeah sorry it was just the TV- didn't realize it was gonna be that loud." You lied.

"Oh- ok-," they said, slightly suspicious since your TV was off but having no other evidence decided to drop the subject. "Well goodnight don't stay up too late," they said as they started to walk away.

"I won't don't worry! Goodnight," you called back, shutting your door quickly.

You opened your closet door and a few of your stuffed animals fell out.

Katsuki had one of them in his hand, "This is a cute little guy," He said with a smug smirk on his face.

"Shut up," you said, reaching trying to grab the stuffed bear from him, but he quickly avoided your grasp.

"Did you hide these in the closet because I was coming over?" He asked, eyes analyzing you.

"I don't know what you're talking about," You said, stubbornly crossing your arms.

"I bet they were all on your bed, weren't they? Tell me the truth or the bear gets it," He said, sparks flying from his fingertips.

"Quite down! You're gonna get me in trouble!" You pleaded.

"Better hurry up and tell me then," he said, a smirk growing.

"Ok- Fine, yes! I moved them off my bed because you were coming over. Happy?" You said, giving in to his taunts. You tried to grab for the bear again but he moved the bear away from you once more.

"One more question, is this the first time you've had a boy in your room?" He asked. You felt your face instantly light up with a blush, and you averted your gaze looking at his feet.

"Hm- I'll take that as a yes," He laughed and handed out the bear for you to grab. You grabbed it from his hand, your fingers grazing across his when you did.

"Alright well I'll see you tomorrow, wouldn't want to get you in trouble, you're not supposed to stay up too late," He teased as he made his way back over to your window.

You turned around wanting to call out to him but didn't know what to say. As quickly as he came in, he left you alone in your room once more.

Thank you for reading! I’m very excited to share this series~

Tags: @unofficialmuilover

[mygalriri]

ASTROLOGY OBSERVATIONS

I am not a professional astrologer. Some things I say may not resonate with everyone. However, if it doesn't resonate with you, I'd love to hear about your experience. If there are any professional astrologers who find fault with what I've said, feel free to correct me. I am open to constructive criticism. This is my first astro observations post though, so being nice is suggested. 😁

1. Moon Square Ascendant people may not be very expressive. Like their expression at all times is either "🙂" or "😐" 2. I don't know why but almost all Virgo risings tend to smile awkwardly in selfies, I've noticed this with celebrities too, either they smile awkwardly or don't smile at all I'm a Virgo rising and I cannot smile naturally in selfies at all like ughhh 3. Undeveloped Mars in Pisces men struggle to come in terms with their femininity and want to be seen as this "alpha male" that is overly masculine; often times being damaging to their mental health. Also prone to promiscuity sometimes. 4. Venus in Scorpios can be mean to the people they like at first but will gradually start to grow a soft spot just for the person they like. I've also noticed that they keep making excuses just to see or talk to the person they like. 5. No idea what the reason behind this is, but when your Moon sign matches someone's Sun sign, chances are you like their cooking. My mom and I have this placement combo (she has gemini sun and i have gemini moon and i have taurus sun and she has taurus moon) and we like eachother's cooking. 6. I know y'all have probably heard this a million times in other astro observations, but I'm gonna say it anyway cause it resonates with me. 12th house stellium in a Solar Return chart could mean a year of isolation. I had to ghost the people that I was talking to on a daily basis almost immediately after my solar return. 7. A lot of people think that venus is now you crush on someone AND how you approach them but I think that isn't true. Venus is how you crush on someone and Mars is how you approach/confess to them. I have Mars in Cancer and I had crushes on two women (not at the same time lol) who have Mars in Taurus which is considered to be a weak sign for Mars and I could sense that they liked me too but we never ended up confessing to each other. 8. Having the same Venus sign as someone's Mars sign indicates a strong attraction at first sight, I have Venus in Taurus and as you read from the previous point I can attest to this lol. 9. Jupiter in Gemini, especially men, can be shorter. This is because Jupiter represents expansion, growth and abundance and it is detrimental in Gemini. Jupiter in Capricorn can be applied to men as well but I feel it applies to women more 10. Pluto in 6th house in a SR chart can mean major changes in your lifestyle, since Pluto represents transformation and the 6th house represents how you go about your daily life.

That's all for now. Hope y'all enjoyed it. See you later, folks!

[vamossainz55]

hi, nik! fellow carlos enthusiast here hoping you could write a kiss to shut him up. he’s come home from the gym (post sweaty thirst trap selfie) and is venting about pierre. reader smooches him to stop, reassuring him that he could never do wrong in her eyes 🤫😘

a/n: hi anon, i love love loved writing this. carlos doesn't necessarily vent but reader does smooch him to shut him up. slight jealous carlos, i couldn't help myself sorry. i hope you enjoy <3

(+ insta au at the end w the infamous photo)

let's sweat it out, - cs55

it started as a joke, and it wasn’t meant to be taken as anything beyond that. you didn’t think he’d take it too seriously either as his ‘pobrecito’ comment hinted that the spanish driver hadn’t even taken pierre’s comment to heart. but here you were, watching carlos putting on his shoes on with his back turned towards you.

five years of being together meant you didn’t need to look at carlos’ face to know he’s not in the best mood. you can tell by the way he tightens his shoelaces, the little huff he lets out before he gets up.

“amor,” you say, rolling your eyes when he responds with dime before saying your name. he always did this when he was annoyed, refusing to use any pet name.

“i was joking,” you say for the nth time. you know carlos isn’t upset with you, the frustration of it all probably culminating into him being put into a bad mood. 

“maybe you shouldn’t have squeezed him carlos,” he says, voice high pitched with a scrunch of his nose. you roll your eyes at his childish response, crossing your arms over your chest.

“are you mocking me carlos?” your voice is sharp this time, a warning for him not to push it.

he hears it loud and clear since he instantly turns to look at you. “sorry, i know you were joking.” he murmurs before sighing. “i’m gonna go for a run and workout. i’ll be back in a few. do you mind waiting for a late lunch?” he comes over, resta his knee on the edge of the bed to kiss your forehead. 

“mhm, thought you were sorry.” you murmur but smile small at the offer anyways. his hand gently squeezes your elbow before he pulls away. “okay, i’ll wait for you for lunch.” 

_

you figure lunch will be… interesting. a few minutes after carlos had left you had seen pierre’s instagram story, a replay of when carlos had supposedly squeezed him. 

‘don’t be mad but,’ you had texted him along with a screenshot of the post. it took an hour for him to answer, and what he had sent was one of the last things you had expected to see. 

he replies with a photo and nothing else. you open the chat to see what it exactly is and you feel your cheeks burn red as soon as you see it. 

the photo is… something. you can see the droplets of sweat forming at almost every strand of hair he has. his locks are disheveled, lips parted as if in the midst of panting. your eyes trail to his collarbones, down to his chest and you have to cover your face, suddenly embarassed as your blush travels down your chest. 

before you even muster the courage to reply the notification comes in, carlossainz55 posted on their story. 

you’re bright red when you see the photo appear on your screen again. ‘carlos’ you text, 'what is this!! delete!!!!’. it’s technically not explicit, the caption of it saying gym time but it looks so intimate, reminds you of late nights or early mornings that has you feeling antsy. 

he doesn’t answer though, not after two texts or five, and you end up hiding your phone inside the closet to stop yourself from looking at that photo. he knows how much waiting drives you crazy. 

so he’s not surprised when he gets home to find you in the kitchen, lunch barely started even though he had texted you thirty minutes ago saying he was on the way. 

“you didn’t text me back, lost your phone?” carlos asks, smiling innocently at you when you turn over to look at him.

he’s still wearing his gym clothes, the change of clothes left in the bag he had dropped by the door. the fabric clings onto his body and he doesn’t miss the way you eye him. 

“left it to charge upstairs,” you murmur, red when you realise carlos fully knows your ogling him. 

“oh?” he says before coming closer to you. “but what if you miss one of pierre’s post?” carlos asks, raising his brow. 

“huh?” you ask, almost surprised by his words. carlos shrugs, hooks his fingers into the belt loops of your jeans. he pulls you close, loves the way you move towards him without question.

“maybe he releases another statement hm?” his lips hover over yours. “i mean… i shouldn’t have squeezed him after all. my fault hm,” you lean close to kiss him, already riled up from earlier but he doesn’t let you, leans back. “isn’t that what you said this morning?” 

“carlos,” you whine, the ingredients on the counter well forgotten. 

“you’re so busy with what pierre has to say, giving him all the attention in the world. he must be right hm?” your lips come close again, wanting to interrupt him but he still doesn’t let you.

“everybody knows you didn’t do anything carlos,” you say, antsy for a kiss already. 

“mhm, everybody but my girlfriend.” he says, raising his brow.

that’s exactly the moment you realize what all of this is really about. carlos wasn’t mad at pierre, he was jealous of your attention on him. 

“god, you’re annoying,” you say, and carlos knows you’ve finally gotten it. “i was joking.” 

carlos hums. “are you sure?” 

“yes, carlos.” his hands grip your waist. 

“really sure?”

“carlos,” 

“were you re-“ the words are taken from his lips when you press yourself against him. you cup your face and his hands go to squeeze your waist, lifting you to the counter to let you sit there. he smiles against your lips, lets a soft sigh of satisfaction once you both pull away. 

"you know i'll always back you first right?" you ask, raising your brow and carlos nods, pressing his lips against yours again.

"mhm, i know." he says, pressing kisses to your neck. you let your eyes flutter shut but you're quick to remember the story he had posted earlier, and you have to ask.

“so… the photo?” you question, hands already roaming under his shirt. 

“well, needed to make sure pierre was the last thing on your mind,” he says smugly. “did it work?”

you wait for a moment, watch as carlos tries to kiss you but this time you lean back, making him regret doing the same earlier. he pouts, blinks when you tap his nose with his finger. 

“hmm, i don’t know. maybe.” you say against his lips before kissing him again. 

yourusername

liked by carlossainz55, charles_leclerc, landonorris and 293,758 others

yourusername dont worry about him guys. i'll let him squeeze me all he wants 😏 🤫 1 hour ago

charles_leclerc: ... oh 😦 54m ago

fan1: who wants to bet it took charles more than ten minutes to get what yn meant 28m ago liked by carlossainz55

fan2: WHY IS NOBODY SAYING ANYTHING ABOUT THE MEME 26m ago

fan1: no bc the mouth froth is so real. 25m ago

carlossainz55: coming home rn 🏃🏻‍♂️ 59m ago

yourusername: you're literally right next to me 57m ago

landonorris: NOT INFRONT OF THE KIDS 40m ago

yourusername: what kids? we're making them rn 20m ago

landonorris: i'm gonna throw up 🤢 18m ago liked by charles_leclerc

fan3: not the carlos sainz apologist 10m ago

fan4: LMAO shes his gf ofc she would be??? 6m ago liked by yourusername

yourusername: carlos apologist first, carlos fucker second 3m ago

fan4: girl i-

[azucaradamente]

streamer!kenma x reader - secret relationship

Synopsis. kenma, in the peak of his career neglected y/n, but dont worry! our pudding head knows exactly how to fix things!

wc. 2,9k words | genre. angst to fluff | cw/tags. streamer!kenma x reader, angst to fluff, post time skip, neglect.

important ! Please if the content was of ur enjoyment dont doubt following me, liking and sharing ;D! maybe i'll make this a little series of streamer!kenma and his girlfriend lives, i have nothing else to say so, enojey! !

Kozume Kenma, or "kodzuken" to his online legion, had finally reached the apex of his streaming career. Years of relentless grinding had paid off, but success often comes with a price. Especially for a relationship... and a sometimes insecure girlfriend.

Y/N, once the undisputed star of Kenma's social media and life, felt a pang of loneliness. She was undeniably happy for her boyfriend, but ever since his rise to influencer status, things had changed. Gone were the days of their selfies plastered across his feeds. Now, his past posts, brimming with her face, were archived – a digital ghost town. Kenma, wary of online scrutiny, decided to keep their relationship private. While Y/N understood the logic, it gnawed at her. Five years together, built on trust and shared experiences, felt invisible to the world. Unknown to Kenma, sleepless nights plagued Y/N.

His phone buzzed incessantly, a constant barrage of love comments, fan messages professing love, and even DMs from other streamers seeking collaboration. Despite knowing Kenma's loyalty, a seed of doubt sprouted – a fear of being overshadowed by his online fame.

Today wasn't any different. Y/N woke to an empty space beside her, the familiar chill a stark contrast to Kenma's usual warmth. He was probably hunched over his computer again, another night sacrificed to the algorithm gods. A pang of sympathy stabbed at her. How could she blame him? Reaching the peak of streaming was his dream, and his excitement over the recent growth was infectious. All she wanted to do was support him, even if it meant sacrificing their mornings together.

Treading softly towards the studio, the faint glow of the monitor spilling into the hallway. Inside, Kenma was indeed sprawled on the worn couch, exhaustion etched on his face. She knelt beside him, her touch feather-light as she ran her fingers through his sleep-tousled hair.

"Ken… sweetheart," she whispered, her voice a gentle nudge. "Why didn't you join me in bed? Your back will hate you later."

Kenma stirred, a low groan escaping his lips. "Just… so tired, Y/N. Almost beat my viewer record last night." A hint of pride snuck into his voice despite the fatigue.

"Amazing, babe! That's fantastic news," Y/N beamed. "But sleep is important too. Come on, let's get you some proper rest. Breakfast is ready, I made your favorite – [insert Kenma's favorite food]."

His response was a mumbled curse, a stark contrast to his usual cheer. A frown tugged at Y/N's lips. Was he annoyed? She knew he was exhausted, but his reaction felt harsher than usual. Maybe she was overthinking it. Taking a deep breath, she nudged him again, this time a little more firmly.

"Up you get, sleepyhead. We can talk more after breakfast."

Moments later, Kenma shuffled out of the studio, a mix of exhaustion and… something else clouding his features. Y/N followed, her smile strained. Breakfast was ready, but the air between them felt thick, a potential storm brewing beneath the surface.

The breakfast was a tense affair. Kenma scrolled through his phone, barely picking at his food. The silence stretched, punctuated only by the clinking of his fork. Finally, Y/N decided to break the ice.

"Hey," she started cautiously, "I was thinking… we haven't really had any quality time together lately. Don't you think it would be nice to… maybe go somewhere tomorrow? Just the two of us?"

Before she could finish her suggestion, Kenma let out a heavy sigh. "Y/N, I can't tomorrow, or today for that matter. I'm swamped. There's this charity stream thing with some new, up-and-coming streamer. My manager practically forced me to do it."

A flicker of disappointment crossed Y/N's face, but she quickly plastered on a smile. "Oh, I see. No worries, I understand completely. You're busy, that's perfectly fine." Her voice held a hint of forced cheerfulness.

A beat of silence hung in the air, heavy with unspoken emotions.

"Of course I understand," Y/N continued, her voice dropping to a low murmur. Maybe a little too low. "My name isn't Kozume 'Always Understanding' Y/N, after all."

Kenma finally looked up from his phone, his brow furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean? What are you getting at?"

Y/N's carefully constructed smile faltered. A surge of frustration bubbled within her. "Maybe," she said, her voice tight, "you should consider what being 'Kozume Understanding' actually costs sometimes."

Kenma pushed back from the table, barely touching his breakfast. "Look, I appreciate you trying to be supportive, but I have a lot on my plate right now. I gotta get everything set up for today's stream." He mumbled something about needing more coffee and practically bolted out of the room.

Y/N sat alone at the table, the untouched food mocking her. Tears welled up in her eyes, blurring her vision. Understanding was one thing, but feeling invisible was a whole other story. The air crackled with unspoken resentment, leaving a bitter taste in her mouth.

A few hours had crawled by since the breakfast debacle. Y/N found herself folding warm laundry in the bedroom, the rhythmic whoosh of the dryer a monotonous lullaby. In an attempt to bridge the gap, she turned on the TV, pulling up Kenma's stream. He was just a few rooms away, physically close yet emotionally distant. Tuning in had always been a source of comfort, a way to connect even when they were apart.

But today, the comfort was replaced by a gnawing emptiness. The stream displayed two camera feeds: Kenma on one side, and a girl on the other. The unfamiliar face sent a jolt through Y/N. So, this was the "new streamer" Kenma mentioned. Y/N hadn't expected a girl.

They were playing Minecraft, a stark contrast to the usual high-octane games Kenma gravitated towards. The girl was chirping cheerfully, gathering flowers, while Kenma focused on mining deep underground. A humorless chuckle escaped Y/N's lips. How predictable.

Despite his focus, the chat box buzzed with activity. "Great duo!" "Shipping them so hard!" "You two should collab more often!" The girl, clearly enjoying the attention, punctuated her flower-picking with playful glances towards Kenma and flirtatious comments. He, on the other hand, seemed oblivious, a mix of annoyance and feigned disinterest etched on his features. He muttered a few sarcastic replies, clearly trying to deflect her advances.

But Y/N wasn't convinced. The way the girl preened, the way the chat reacted, it all felt… intrusive. A subtle shift began to gnaw at her. Maybe it wasn't just the lack of quality time that bothered her. Maybe it was the realization that this new reality, this world Kenma inhabited, wasn't one she felt comfortable sharing.

With a decisive click, Y/N shut off the TV. Enough boyfriend content for one day, she thought bitterly. Intellectually, she knew there was nothing wrong with Kenma collaborating with another streamer, especially a girl. Yet, a suffocating tightness constricted her chest.

It wasn't just the girl's undeniable beauty – the cascading hair, the infectious voice, the effortless charm that seemed to captivate the chat. It was the way the internet, that ever-hungry beast, latched onto the situation.

Four hours. That's all it took for the fandom to erupt. Fan art depicting them as a couple flooded Twitter. A dedicated hashtag, #KenmaAndQueen (Queen being the other streamer's username, no doubt), trended at an alarming rate. The internet worked in mysterious ways, Y/N thought, a humorless laugh escaping her lips.

Tears pricked at her eyes as she scrolled through clips people had already made of the stream. The girl's relentless flirting, the forced interactions designed to fuel speculation – it all felt like a cruel parody of their own relationship. Y/N couldn't hold back any longer. Fat tears streamed down her face, blurring the screen.

The last few months of loneliness and neglect had taken their toll. The trickle of tears transformed into a torrent, sobs wracking Y/N's body. The sound was probably louder than she'd intended, echoing through the house.

A few minutes later, Kenma appeared at the bedroom door, his face etched with concern. "Y/N? What's wrong? Are you okay?"

Y/N's sobs intensified, her voice barely a whisper. "Kenma," she managed to choke out, "do you like Queen?"

Kenma's brow furrowed in confusion. "Queen? What do you mean?"

"The streamer you were with today," Y/N explained, her voice trembling. "Do you like her? Is she better than me? Prettier? Funnier?"

Her words hung in the air, heavy with insecurity. She felt like a shadow compared to Queen's radiant presence, her own worth diminishing with each passing moment.

Kenma's eyes widened in disbelief. "Y/N, what are you talking about? Queen is just a colleague. I don't like her in that way. And you're the most amazing, beautiful, and intelligent person I know. Don't ever compare yourself to anyone else."

He gently pulled her into a hug, his warmth radiating through her. "I love you, Y/N. More than words can say. You're the only one for me."

Y/N's tears subsided, replaced by a sense of relief. Kenma's words were like a balm to her wounded soul. She nuzzled into his embrace, feeling safe and loved.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice still laced with emotion. "I just felt so insecure watching you with her. The fans, the comments, the whole situation just got to me."

Kenma chuckled softly. "I understand, love. But you have nothing to worry about. You're my everything, and no one could ever replace you."

He held her tighter, his presence a comforting anchor in the storm of her emotions. Y/N felt a surge of gratitude for this man who saw her for who she truly was, insecurities and all.

As they sat in silence, enveloped in each other's embrace, a sense of peace settled over Y/N. Kenma's words had not magically erased her insecurities, but they had offered a glimmer of hope, a reminder that their love was strong enough to weather any storm. An idea sparked in Kenma's eyes. He reached for Y/N's hand, his expression a mix of determination and nervousness. "Come on," he said gently, pulling her towards his streaming room.

Y/N's heart hammered against her ribs. She wasn't sure what Kenma was planning, but a sliver of hope flickered within her. They entered the room, the familiar hum of the computer the only sound. Kenma settled back into his gaming chair, gesturing for Y/N to stand beside him, just out of frame.

He took a deep breath and addressed the chat. "Hey everyone, sorry for the sudden break. Thanks to some attentive viewers, it seems you might have heard some… background noise." He glanced at Y/N, a playful smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Yep, those cries were from my amazing girlfriend here."

A collective gasp, presumably from Queen, erupted from the speakers. Y/N felt a wave of heat flush her cheeks. Kenma ignored it, his focus laser-sharp.

"The truth is," he continued, his voice low and sincere, "I haven't been the best boyfriend lately. I let my career take priority, neglecting the most important person in my life." Y/N's breath caught in her throat.

He reached out, gently taking her hand in his. "This is me, publicly apologizing. Y/N, I've been a jerk, and I want to change that." He squeezed her hand, his eyes locking with hers, conveying a wealth of emotions that transcended words.

A beat of silence hung in the air, thick with tension. Then, with a swift movement, Kenma pulled Y/N closer, framing her face in the camera's view. "This," he declared, his voice husky, "is the most amazing, supportive, and thankfully, understanding girlfriend a guy could ask for." He leaned in, his lips brushing hers in a tender kiss.

"Isn't she the prettiest?" Kenma murmured against her skin, a playful glint in his eyes. He pulled back slightly, cupping her face, his gaze holding hers. A blush bloomed across Y/N's cheeks, a mixture of relief, surprise, and a flicker of possessiveness aimed at the unseen Queen.

Kenma chuckled, the sound warm and genuine. "Alright everyone, enough mush for one day. We'll be back with the stream shortly, but for now, I have some serious apologizing to do." He winked at Y/N, a silent promise hanging in the air.

[luminetti]

Dressed to Kill

༘⋆ Summary: In which, you, a professional cosplayer, mistake Bakugou’s hero outfit for a really good Halloween costume. ༘⋆ Pairing: bakugou katsuki x fem!reader ༘⋆Warnings: n/a, reader is just the biggest dumbass (lovingly) also, i cannot stress this enough. they are NOT CHILDREN in this. they’re both at least the age of college seniors  ༘⋆Notes: huge thanks to one of my biggest inspirations for writing in general: @andypantsx3 ! this fic is lightly inspired by—and lowkey a lovechild of—her pieces, baby are you playing tricks and unconventional, so if you somehow haven’t read those yet, i strongly recommend doing so!  also now that i actually have more than one piece of writing, id love for some writer/fandom moots! im very new to tumblr and would love friends :’)  ao3 release

Halloween was by far your favorite holiday. 

As a child, you were always drawn to Halloween, not just for the candy, but for the extravagant costumes and house decorations. Nearly every year, you stayed up late with your father, hand-sewing various details onto your costume. Finally, for your eighteenth birthday, you were gifted your very own sewing machine which officially kickstarted your interest in cosplay.

Throughout your first couple years of college, you worked on your Twitter account, posting quick mirror selfies of your various cosplay projects. Only during senior year did you finally feel comfortable enough to go out in public for your first official photoshoot.

‘Comfortable’ was a bit of a stretch. Very seldom does one feel truly comfortable when posing in front of a grandiose fountain in the middle of a public garden, fully clad in foam armor. What made it significantly worse was when the aforementioned armor looked more like a metal bikini than an actual chest plate worn into battle.

Poor character design choices aside, you loved Halloween for that very reason. With everyone dressed up–or down, for some–there was no reason to feel self-conscious during your monthly photoshoots. Sure, there was the occasional snide remark, but the number of supportive comments from passersby was enough to quiet your uncertainty.

This year you had stayed up late for the past month putting the final touches on your purple staff, even attempting an LED system that allowed parts of it to glow. It had taken two weeks to get the prototype of the dress situated since you weren’t used to sewing such a large amount of detail into your fabrics. Unfortunately, this also meant it took significantly longer to finish the outfit than expected, leaving almost no time to do your wig. But, in true cosplayer fashion, you managed to whip something together with an older purple wig, just in time for tonight.

You did, however, only realize the character also had a sword occasionally, but there was no way you were going to make that in time so the staff would have to suffice.

The night had already been proving to be one of the best so far. Starting around eight in the evening, you and some of your closest friends had gotten together for a costume party, a series of shitty horror movies, and a plethora of even shittier cheap cocktails. Despite not being much of a drinker yourself, you always participated in the annual spooky-themed cocktail charcuterie. This year you weren’t holding back. Your pride and joy charcuterie consisted of nine drinks including, but not limited to ghost-themed Aperol Spiritz–nicknamed Spirit Spiritz, Bloody Marys, and your personal favorite, Bonejitos. They even had little skeleton dudes sitting on the rim of the glass.

Unfortunately, your friends weren’t very amused by your festive drinks, even going as far to say your ingenious Bonejitos were a stretch. So, clearly they didn’t see the vision. Eventually, the party events died down as the guests began to go home, allowing the night to evolve into just drinking.

“Did you get a photo of your costume yet?” Himari, your friend from freshman year, questioned.

You shook your head, absently watching as the rest of your friends downed your masterly made Bonejitos. Liars, all of them. “‘A stretch’ my ass,” you scoffed.

Himari dug around in her bag, retrieving her camera. “Halloween photoshoot? Your fit is cute and I’m getting bored here.”

You did like the idea of photography-major level photos with none of the price involved. “I love you, Mari.”

She stuffed your spear under her arm and with that, the two of you stepped out into the cold and crisp autumn air, the breeze running over your bare shoulders and thighs. You shivered lightly, pulling up your thigh-highs and hugging the excess fabric close to your body.

Himari glanced at you in concern. “Does the Raiden Shogun not wear a jacket?”

“Unfortunately, she doesn’t.” You chuckled, rubbing your arms. “You can’t be sexy and wear a jacket,” you joked.

She hummed in sympathy, looking around for a good place to set up. The park was a particularly popular spot during Halloween, specifically known for its comforting lighting and ambience.

 “What about there?” Himari pointed to a small gazebo surrounded by violets, lit up by a string of fairy lights. There were a couple groups nearby, but otherwise it was pretty much empty.

You nodded, excited. “Good eye as always, Mari.”

She handed over your spear and offered an arm,helping you step up onto the platform and underneath the gazebo. While she adjusted the lights to her liking, you took a moment to adjust your skirt and sleeves.

“Do you think it’s too short?” you asked, tugging on the cloth. Thankfully the character wore a pair of shorts underneath, but the dress was barely miniskirt length.

Himari looked over briefly before turning back to the lights. “No, not really. Why? Are you uncomfortable?”

Before you could answer, a group of college-aged girls passed by the gazebo, clearly a bit drunk. As they left, one of the girls that was hanging onto her friend’s arm looked over. “Don’t be, girlie! You look hot as fuck!” she shouted out, words slightly slurred.

You flustered, blabbering out a quick thanks in surprise. There’s nothing like a friendly drunk girl to get your confidence up.

From behind the camera, Himari gave you a thumbs up. “Give me one of these.” She mimed leaning against the wooden banister. “Yeah like that, but with your leg more out.”

The shutter clicked several times as you did your best to recreate her gestures.

Himari proceeded to guide you through a series of poses, occasionally having you incorporate your staff or the gazebo. Eventually you got used to the flashing camera and allowed yourself to melt into the character, embodying her essence as best as you could.

Time flew and before you knew it, Himari was calling you down from the gazebo to look over the photos. You hovered over her shoulder as she flipped through each one, pausing at her favorites.

“I’ll import these onto my laptop and send them back edited sometime this week,” she told you, removing her glasses and wiping them off with her sleeve.

You nodded. “Thanks for doing this, you really didn’t have to.” You rummaged through your bag, hoping to find at least a little money for her efforts. Feeling a couple bills between your fingers, you held them out to her.

Himari’s eyes squinted and you realized she was staring over your shoulder. “I think that guy in costume was looking at you,” she said, still cleaning off the lenses.

You turned to see a tall man across the park, large grenade shaped gauntlets resting on both his arms. He quickly looked away once he saw your head turn. Looking closer, you realized he was dressed in a dark black sleeveless jumpsuit with orange and green straps along his body.

He was clearly a Dynamight cosplayer. And by the looks of it, a really talented one at that.

You were almost convinced that he had real hero equipment on. His armor pieces were strikingly accurate, and you made a mental note to look for more realistic prop materials.

“He probably spent a lot of time on that,” you mused to Himari, who had already gone back to inspecting the photos.

“You should go ask him about it.” she suggested, collecting the rest of her things and zipping her bag. “I’ve gotta catch an Uber soon.”

Maybe it was the lingering confidence gifted by the girl from earlier, but you managed to muster up enough self-assurance to wave goodbye to Himari and stride right up to the cosplayer.

As you got closer, you realized just how much work must have gone into all the details. The gauntlets–a very convincing metal–had several dents and scratches, giving it a worn down look, as if it had been used frequently.

His hair looked far too real to be a wig, likely just being his natural hair with lots of product in it. The most impressive detail by far was his physique. Had he trained specifically for this? The closer you got the more you noticed. If you were lucky, maybe he’d give you the name of his supplier.

“I love your outfit!” You smiled cheerily at him.

He turned to look at you, slightly taken aback. “Thanks?” he replied, folding his arms as he looked you over, eyes lingering on your cosplay.

You felt a twinge of anxiety as he inspected your outfit. He probably just didn’t recognize the character, you convinced yourself.

“I’m a cosplayer too,” you clarified, gesturing to your dress. “But clearly not as dedicated as you.”

You watched as his chest puffed lightly at the compliment, though he titled his head, a bit puzzled.

Clearing your throat awkwardly, you tried a different method. “How long did it take to make?”

He blinked at you and shrugged. “Dunno. Maybe a couple of months? I just told them what I wanted.”

Oh, you got it now. He’s just a model. It wasn’t uncommon for people to collaborate on cosplays, especially ones where one person either commissions or buys a cosplay from an artist, and then models it themself. Either way, he was still one of the best you’ve seen.

You nodded in understanding. “Do you have social media? I’d love to see what else you’ve done.” Pulling out your phone, you loaded up your Twitter, preparing to enter his tag.

“Dynamight Official. All one word,” he replied hesitantly, looking you up and down as if he was scanning for signs of sickness.

You chuckled faintly. He was really dedicated to his role. “Well, what's your name? I follow a lot of cosplayers already. Maybe I’ve seen you?” You pulled up your profile and turned the screen around to show him in case he recognized your tag.

His arms unfolded and his face slowly morphed from confused to exceptionally amused. “Bakugou Katsuki. I am Dynamight.”

Waving him off absently, you nodded as you scrolled through your followed accounts. You swear you’ve seen him online before. “Sorry, I’m not really good at roleplay. But you’re pretty convincing.”

He leaned against the cold metal lamppost, watching you sift through various Twitter accounts. You sneaked a glance to check his facial features again, but he was already staring straight back at you.

In such close capacity, his striking crimson eyes stood out to you. Even his contacts were high quality… Fighting back the warmth that threatened your cheeks and ears, you averted your gaze downwards.

Your eyes flicked to his waist. You hadn’t noticed it before, but a thick black bomber jacket was tied tightly around his torso, unlike the real hero’s costume. Well, you stand corrected. You certainly can be sexy with a jacket.

Speaking of jackets, you had been so caught up in conversation you hadn’t realized how cold it had gotten. The soft breeze from earlier had picked up into chilly wind, rustling the fabric of your dress as it blew by.

Bakufaux–haha–seemed to notice your interest in his jacket, untying it and tossing it over your shoulders. “Bit cold for you, Princess?” he drawled. “D’nno how you’ve managed in that outfit.” He gestured to your short dress and tall socks.

You couldn’t help but notice how his gaze lingered on you for a half second longer than normal. Not that you would’ve said anything. Thanks to his jacket, you were enveloped with warm and musky scents of charcoal and sandalwood. Though, being honest with yourself, you’ve been distracted ever since you walked over.

You snapped out of your trance when he pushed himself off the lamppost and leaned over you. It could’ve been twenty degrees out and you’d still swear you were overheating.

“Ever considered cosplaying in my costume?” He asked, watching your darkening cheeks closely.

Maybe it was the shit eating grin he wore proudly on his face, or the sneaking suspicion in your gut, but you had an inkling of a feeling he knew something you didn’t. In a surge of confidence and curiosity, or perhaps just pure adrenaline, you took a step forward.

“And if I have?”

Something snapped behind his eyes and you could’ve sworn his gaze dropped to your lips. He might’ve actually kissed you if you weren’t interrupted by the sound of glass shattering and the screams of customers inside a late night coffee shop.

You felt your heart rate increase as he swore under his breath, whatever smug expression he previously had was replaced by something far more intense and serious.

‘“I’m not leaving you out here alone, stay close to me,” he urged, taking one last look at you before turning and running towards the sound.

It took you a second to realize you were running behind him as fast as possible.

As the two of you neared the coffee shop, you noticed numerous shards of glass laid out on the concrete. On a second glance, you noticed some of the smaller shards were beginning to melt, turning the ground slightly slick.

You halted to a stop, almost crashing into your new friend. You felt a warm hand snake around your waist, lifting your body off the ground and onto a nearby bench.

“Don’t touch the ground, and stay right here,” he told you sternly, before turning and rushing straight into the cafe.

You watched, frozen in astonishment, only able to hear the horrific sounds of glass and… explosions? Occasionally you caught a glimpse of blonde hair, dropping off a poor customer caught in the crossfire, before dashing straight back inside. In what felt like seconds, he had already retrieved nearly every patron from the cafe, all while the villain was still inside.

Quickening footsteps approached from behind your place on the bench. You barely had a chance to comprehend the noises when a flash of red zipped past you, making a beeline straight for the cafe. Only after several trips in and out of the building did you finally recognize the eccentric costume of Pro-Hero Red Riot as he gathered the remainder of the victims outside.

Through the ringing in your ears you could only vaguely make out shouting between Red Riot and someone else still inside the building. It was all intelligible until he turned to you and the victims. The last words you heard was look away, or at least you assumed.

You weren’t interested in waiting around to find out so you shut your eyes tight and turned away from the scene as best as you could.

At first nothing happened. But after a beat, you felt your eyes burn behind your eyelids as a blistering wave of heat surrounded you. You think you screamed, but you weren’t entirely sure. Every muscle in your body tensed as the bench shook underneath you, threatening to break.

But as quickly as it came, it passed. You couldn’t tell how long you had been trapped in that position, clutching your knees to your chest with your eyes sealed shut. A warm hand shook you out of position, jostling your eyes open.

When your eyes finally adjusted, blocking your vision of the cafe was none other than a tall silhouette, and familiar red eyes.

“Hey, stay with me, Princess. You hurt?”

You felt calloused hands hastily press against your body, examining you for injury. He took a hold of your ankle, easing you into extending. “Anything?”

Shaking your head, you gripped onto him as he lifted you from the bench to your feet, steadying you with strong arms.

“Happy Halloween,” you managed to mutter meekly into his chest.

You felt him shudder beneath your head as he laughed, surprisingly heartily.

“Certainly one you’ll remember.” His low voice resonated in your brain, calming whatever nerves were remaining. “Let’s get you home, m’kay?”

You let him navigate you back to your apartment surprisingly deftly given your shaky directions, until finally you found yourself thanking him at your doorstep and shutting the door behind you.

Now that you were home and given a chance to breathe, you weren’t sure what was real. Everything mixed together in a blur and you couldn’t tell if it was all a dream or not.

As you groggily slumped against your bed, you felt something soft bundle against your back. Sitting up, you reached behind your back to feel the cool fabric of the black jacket you had been holding tightly against yourself. Embroidered on the sleeve were a pair of initials you hadn’t noticed before.

B.K.

With a strange pounding in your chest, you pulled out your phone.

Sure enough, you had one new notification.

@DynamightOfficial followed you back

The device buzzed in your hand with a second notification. A direct message request alongside an image. Swiping to your messages, you opened the text from your new follower.

Front and center was a quick photo of Bakugou’s hero costume, laid out neatly on his bed. Directly underneath the image were two small text bubbles.

u take commissions?

ive got something in mind for ya

[sturnsbella]

the right person

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

matt sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: matt was right about the guy y/n was talking to being an asshole, but he helps her anyways.

warnings: underage drinking, panic attack and cheating (?)

y/n - pink

matt - blue

madi - red

nick - purple

chris - orange

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

marylou is my mom’s best friend since college, because of their friendship, me and the triplets grew up together. they were like family, we always spent holidays together and we met every week. getting older, we just got closer. nick was always my best friend, chris was like a older, annoying, funny and carrying older brother, and matt… he was kinda different?

when we were like 13, i had a crush on him, and everyone knew it, i was really bad at hiding it. he probably didn’t like me back, since he was 15 and probably saw me as a younger sister or something like that. i hated that, he was so weird with me. he acted like we were just friends but when i started to talk to a boy he was super overprotective, almost like he was jealous. i never understood that.

i got over him years ago, but recently he has been kinda flirty with me. i always take it as a joke, but sometimes i don’t know if it really is..

anyways, it doesn’t matter ‘cause i’m talking to somebody else now.

-

madi, one of the friends we have in common, is throwing a party today, i have 10 minutes until matt, chris and nick come to pick me up. my hair is loose and i did two little braids in the front. i’m wearing a black open backless top, and a tight jeans skirt. my makeup is done, i just apply gloss to finish while admiring myself in the mirror. i take a couple of selfies before laying on my bed and posting it.

matt’s pov

i’m scrolling on instagram waiting for my brothers when i see y/n’s post. she looks really good. i like the picture and comment:

@matthew.sturniolo - “picking you up rn. good pics btw 📸”

it only takes her a few seconds to reply:

@y/n.y/l/n - “ok im waiting. tks 📸”

under my comment a see the comment of the guy she’s talking to:

@evan_williams - “🔥”

i roll my eyes. he’s an asshole and it pisses me off that y/n doesn’t see it. she deserves someone better than him, she is so sweet and kind and i’m not even sure he likes her.

y/n’s pov

i grab my purse while walking to the door when the triplets arrive at my house. i get in the car sitting next to nick.

“hii you’re looking so good y/n/n”

“thank youu” i say smiling.

chris looks at me and smiles

“you really are”

matt glances at me

“yeah you look hot”

i giggle a bit and blush

“shut up”

we listen to music and sing all the way to the party, not talking about anything. we get to the house and we all leave the car.

“y/n/n do you know if evan’s coming?”

“yeah he’ll come. but he won’t stay much tho, he’s grounded or something”

i say as we go to the door. and i notice matt guets quiet when we talk about evan.

“what?”

i say staring at him.

“nothing”

“what is it?”

“you know he’s an asshole, right?”

i roll my eyes at him, i know he doesn’t like evan but he never likes any guy i talk to, is annoying.

“i’ll go grab a drink, do you guys want anything?”

i go to the kitchen after they all said no. in the kitchen i find madi, we take a few shots and then we go dancing.

mini time skip

me, madi and a bunch of other people are dancing with the loud music playing. i still haven’t seen evan, so i text him.

“heyy, are u still coming?”

he took a few minutes to answer the text

“hey, no i won’t make it sorry”

“oh, okay” i text back. i show my phone to madi.

“it’s okay we don’t need him here, let’s drink”

we go to the kitchen once again, and while i’m making my drink i notice madi’s eyes going wide, i look to where she was looking.

“y/n don’t-“

she says trying to stop me from seeing evan hooking up with another girl on the corner of the room. i’m speechless. i mean, we didn’t have anything too serious but i wasn’t hooking up with any other guys, and he told me he liked me… i turn my head to madi again

“i can’t believe him”

“omg i’m so sorry y/n”

“it’s fine”

it’s not, he was so nice to me, i really liked him. and it all just reminded me from when i caught my ex boyfriend cheating on me with my (ex) best friend. my mind racing as my breath got heavier.

“i’ll be right back”

i go to the bathroom, close the door and lean myself on the sink. i stare at myself in the mirror with my eyes filled with tears. it gets hard to breathe when my tears run down my face. i hear someone knock on the door.

“y/n/n?”

matt opens the door, i look at him crying and trying to breathe. he closes the door behind him and rushes to come try to calm me down.

“y/n it’s okay. you are okay”

i shake my head

“you can get through this, okay?” he says breathing deeply trying to make me follow his breath.

“focus on my breathing”

he wipes my tears, i begin to slow down my breathing and calming down.

“matt” i try to speak

“shh, is okay.” he gives a slight smile trying not to look so nervous to help me. i hug him, trying to stop crying.

“i should’ve listened to you”

“don’t say that, you couldn’t know”

“why does everyone fucking replace me like that?”

“it’ll be okay, y/n/n, you got me”

we stay like that in silence for a while. he lets me go and holds my face, wiping my last tear.

“let’s get out of here before i fucking punch him”

i nod, smiling slightly. i’m kinda embarrassed matt saw me like this. i’m not even that sensitive but i think with the alcohol and all.. it was a just lot.

-

the drive back was silent. i was sitting on the passenger’s seat, chris didn’t even said anything about it, he understood something had happened.

i notice that matt isn’t driving back to my place.

matt’s pov

“matt where are we going?”

y/n asks me looking confused

“you’re sleeping over at our house today”

she smiles. i wouldn’t let her be alone right now, she’s too drunk, plus with what happened with evan i don’t want her to do anything stupid.

after 10 minutes in the car i notice y/n fell asleep. “she’s cute” i think to myself, hoping chris and nick didn’t notice me blushing over her. when we get to our house, nick and chris go inside letting me with y/n.

i carry her inside the house and to my bedroom, where i place here on my bed. i turn around to pick up a hoodie for her to sleep in, when i turn to her i see she woke up.

“hey” she smiles

“wear this, i’ll be sleeping on chris’s room if you need anything.” i say turning my back at her.

“matty” i look at her waiting for her to speak.

“can you stay here?”

i smile at her question and nod. i go to lay down next to y/n, facing her.

“you’re okay?”

“i will be. i just…” she pauses “i wish someone would really stay. what is wrong with me? why does everyone always leaves?”

“nothing’s wrong with you, y/n. you’re perfect. he was the problem.”

“he wasn’t even the first one to cheat on me”

“you’ll be alright, y/n/n. you’ll find the right person”

“you think so?”

“i’m sure.” i smile and nod. i wrap my arm around y/n’s waist as she lays her head on my chest. i caress her hair until she falls asleep.

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

first fic ughhhh how do we feel?

i have ideas for part 2 but idkk..

i hope you guys like it, sorry for any mistakess

- xoxo bella

😚

[severinapina]

SILENCE - ONE SHOT

Silence.

Suguru thinks his life has been quite silent lately. Yes, the twins talk to him. Miguel and Larue too. In fact, they always talk to him.

Sometimes he thinks it might be too much, more than he can bear. “Perhaps adopting two five-year-old girls when I was 17 was a bit impulsive”, he thinks while brushing his hair for the first time that day.

However, those thoughts vanish once he has breakfast with them. Cereal for Mimiko, every morning. Nanako, on the other hand, insists on mimicking his traditional breakfast; not just the miso soup and rice bowl, but also the green tea and coffee. But she is too young for those stimulants. Orange or grapefruit juice is fine.

Sometimes, he looks at them with concern. He is not sure if he wants the same life for them. Perhaps a bit of normalcy is all they need.

And his life is anything but normal.

Once a week, he decides to take an afternoon for himself. As soon as he finishes teaching them what they should be learning in a traditional school, he leaves them with Miguel. He takes them to play, to different places. The square, the park, sometimes even drives to the beach. He knows from the photos and videos his loyal number two takes that they have an incredible time.

"Time to play leader," he thinks as he dresses in his gojo kesa. Meetings, exorcisms, more meetings, more exorcisms. Sometimes, photo sessions. The Vessel investors believe leveraging Suguru's charisma is good for business. They are not wrong. It has grown significantly since social media began.

Ugh, Facebook, Instagram, Line. They are not his style at all. Nevertheless, he pretends. And he is very good at it. Otherwise, he would not be the most sought-after exorcist in the Japanese archipelago.

But there is something he does like about social media. As if reading his mind, it suggested a contact for him. His fingers almost instinctively went to the profile.

"Of course, Satoru doesn’t have it private," he thought when he saw it. More than six hundred posts, all at his disposal. Some might think the albino did it out of egotism, but he believed he knew the truth. It was not just ego, but a desire to share. Perhaps, even a desire to share with him. His travels around the world, his selfies with his students (who were obviously there against their will), his meals. Sometimes, even reflections. Sure, maybe a comparison between Pepsi and Coca-Cola was not the deepest thing from his mind, but still; it was his mind. He laughed, noticing that he had not changed substantially. But that laugh was followed by a melancholy sigh. How he missed that way of thinking.

Nobody made him laugh like that.

Absolutely nobody.

On the other hand, Suguru knew he also viewed his profile. But it was not as personal as his. On the curse manipulator's Instagram, there was only room for his cult leader persona. He could not allow anything else. He could never show his vulnerability because, when he did, nothing good came out of it; even though it had been with him, he did not realize it. So how would he notice through a screen whatever he tried to communicate?

"Get over it, Suguru, get over it," he told himself as he left home. "You don’t have time to think about this. You don’t want to, either."

Or did he? Again, he found himself going to the station where they used to meet. Why was he doing this? He knew quite a bit about Freudian theories on unconscious acts, but this was too much. The third time, in less than six months.

"I’ve got some time to kill," he thought as he sat in the same spot. It was a public place, after all. He crossed his legs and took out Runaway Horses from his bag. He began reading, his hand resting on the bench. Suddenly, his gaze shifted to the corner of it. His heart literally stopped for a second. A camellia, his favorite flower, lay there, almost as if it had always been part of the place. Unchanging, beautiful, and eternal.

Coincidence? He did not know, but nobody else knew that was his favorite flower.

He tucked it into his book, sighing.

Perhaps in his blue life, silence also reigned.

—————————————————-

Image by @12eeeeco on X.

[octuscle]

I'm your average joe who works an average desk job and at 45 I have nothing great going for me. Sometimes I just wish I could do it over again. Maybe take up a diffrent major in college, something that would set me up for a more adventurous life. Can you help me achieve this?

Okay, who wants to be average? And who wouldn't want to know what their life would have been like if they had made a different decision at some point? I mean, your decisions weren't actually bad. Bank apprenticeship, business studies, going to the gym twice a week… You have a house in the suburbs, a cool car. It could have been worse! But also better. We can manage that! Monday, 12:00 noon, let's get started!

When you finish work in the evening, you're still full of energy. Even though you worked until 19:00 today. It's paying off that you started making the gym your home seven months ago. When you arrive at the gym at 8 p.m., Steve greets you at reception with a fist bump. Everyone here greets you. Some of them are good friends of yours. The rest at least know you by sight. No wonder, you're here every day. In the morning before work. In the evening after work. And the effort pays off. From a very well-built man with the typical rolls of flab, you have developed into an athlete. A machine. Not one of the big boys. But close. You call it a day at 22:00. You need seven hours' sleep, you want to be back here at 07:00. One last critical look in the mirror. Not bad for a man in his mid-40s…

Get up, gym, office… You work like clockwork. You're good at your job. The development of your body has boosted your career. Today you have another lunch date with a division manager. He asks you if it's time to take the next step in your career. It's been two years since you moved to the "Digital Research and Development" division. That was also the initial spark for your physical transformation. As an accounting employee, you had previously become a lazy and saturated couch potato… You smile and, as if by chance, flex your huge biceps. You know that makes him hot. And the prospect of a blowjob after lunch is tempting. Of course, he immediately notices that your cock is getting hard… You have his hand in your crotch for the rest of lunch.

When you arrive at the gym at 7pm on Wednesday, you first have to go through your post. As the largest shareholder, you are only the chairman of the supervisory board. But many people confuse that with managing director. Idiots who are just stealing your precious time on the weights. Since you introduced the "Meathead Gym" brand and turned your old gym into the flagship of the new brand, you feel even more at home here. No classes, no machines, no women. Just honest, hard bodybuilding. Dress code is at least off-the-shoulder. In fact, shirtless is preferred. It goes without saying that you don't wear a tank top either.

You're the first one in the gym on Friday morning. Good thing you have the keys. You look around. Your empire. It was a big step to leave your good job almost eight years ago and start working at the fitness start-up. For hardcore bodybuilders, you are now the market leader as a fitness studio, but also in nutritional supplements and gym clothing. Steve arrives at 05:30. He has the early shift at reception. You greet him with a fist bump. Good man. A little weak in the chest. At least compared to you… But he'll get there!

You visit a school friend at the weekend. His son is a handsome stud. He could turn into a real gym hunk. He asks if he can take a selfie with you. Sure, I'd love to, you say. He asks you if you can give him any tips on what he should do now. He's finishing high school now. You ask him what position he plays football. He grins and says that he prefers to spend his time in the gym. You can see that. You tell your school friend to listen away for a moment. And then you tell your son that he shouldn't bother with college and university. You're glad you didn't do that either. You started pumping iron straight away. And then brought your dream to life. Live your dream, you tell him. And that you'd be happy if it could start at your company.

[pinehutch]

When I say that I want to be evil

what I mean is I want to be powerful. What I mean is I want to be free.

Some weeks ago I spent more money than I should have on my first ever (ever!) two-piece swimsuit. You have to understand that as a child I was told I was fat, and as a teen I was told I was fat, and as an adult I've always been fat*, and you can't read your way out of the shame caused not strictly by the word but by its connotations.

(I know, because I've tried. I have been trying for almost twenty years. Looking for plus-sized fashion brought me to the digital 'fatosphere.' It made me a better person as I learned about another dimension of intersectionality and about power and oppression. It made me feel like I could wear clothing that I liked. It made me more informed about the diet and wellness industry. It's been over 20 years since I first read a critique of the BMI; it's been almost as long since I started wondering why gros/se in my close-second language didn't have the same (haha) weight to it as fat does, in my first.)

At the tail end of June, days long and scorching, I stepped into a two-piece swimsuit with a deep-v neckline and my whole midsection exposed and I spent the day in full view of dozens (hundreds?) of strangers. Cold, cold water on the joints; warm, soft pools for the evening. My hair got bigger and bigger. My neck and chest sunburned. My midriff stayed comically, blindingly pale, and everything else? It was lovely; it was fine. I rarely thought about my body, unless it was 'this feels nice' or 'my swimsuit is so pretty.' I took a selfie, even, though I deleted it. I was worried that posting it would count as thirst-trapping; shame has cored out and replaced so much of me. It was a good pic, though, and I wish I'd kept it.

What was true of me that day: I was a quite tall, very fat femme person whose feet swell with arthritis and whose hair takes up the entire frame and who's had cellulite since grade eight. What else was true: many people complimented my swimsuit. I looked out across the valleys and the mountains from the top of my almost-six-feet. I let my shoulders roll back and smiled at the sight of my bare skin gone blue-wavering-dappled beneath the surface. I stood tall. I made eye contact. I enjoyed delightful company, and let that enjoyment extend to the simple pleasure of having a body that felt fairly good, in garments I had chosen for the joy of it.

You can't read your way out of shame; it's only part of the equation. I didn't go swimming the next day with my family members, because I didn't want to feel them looking at my body and being disappointed that What A Beautiful Girl turned out like I did (though: if What A Beautiful Girl then why You Need To Watch What You Eat?). But for an entire day I felt like anyone else, gentle enough, good enough, in my skin.

It would have been good for me to swim with my family that weekend, because I'm finding that - as in all things - the practice is important. You can't read your way out of shame, not entirely, but in working with and through it there's maybe a chance to rewrite our stories.

There's a fallacy that I think a lot of us fall into, when we're trying to counter and challenge fatphobia, both culturally and in ourselves. It's the fallacy of the Good Fat. It's why I want to tell you about how two-pieces are maybe a better swimwear choice for me because of the drastic difference between my tits and hips vs my waist. It's why I wanted to post that selfie, so people could shoutycaps and fire emoji me on twitter. It's why I want to craft this post into a narrative where spending a single day mostly-unburdened by body shame has led to a hot girl summer, and I'm walking for miles every day and going to the pool four times a week. (I'm not. I still have a day job, and writing to do, and a physical disability, and the ol' depression. I'm more active than I was three months ago, and working to improve that, but still. It's not a lot.)

It is, simply, the same lie as we tell ourselves along so many different axes of marginalization: that as long as we are exceptional in a way equal and opposite to our marginalization, we'll be fine. It's the model that says you earn the right to exist fat and unashamed by being healthy, by being active, by being hot. Sorry my hip is squished against yours on the airplane; at least I've got a nice face and good hair and am well-dressed, wanna admire my hip-to-waist ratio about it?

There's no such thing as a Good Fat because we live in an inherently fatphobic world. I mean: airplane seats are too small for anyone average sized. I mean: 20 years ago I was a size 16/18 and couldn't fit into the newer lecture hall seats at my university without a lot of stress and embarrassment. I mean: I can't buy a compression sleeve for my arthritic joints at the drug store. If I ever needed to take Plan B, it might not work because I weigh (as do most adults of my acquaintance) more than 165lbs. You cannot be hot enough or active enough or well-dressed enough to escape from this; the only option is to be Not Fat.

But why on earth would we want to accept this? We know the system is fucked up and evil, and so: we want to be evil. Just a little bit, just enough. We want to be hot villains. We want to serve cunt and to be cunts. We want to nailcare emoji, fire emoji, crown emoji, and we want to take no prisoners unless it's between our thick thick thighs. Sit on their face; if they die, they die. It's fun and sexy, in a world where "everything is sex, except sex, which is power" to dig in and grab handfuls of what looks like empowerment, fuck the rest of it, get what makes you feel best.

It's a mirage; freedom doesn't live there.

Because of course fat people are hot. Fat bodies are desirable. Fat bodies are strong, sometimes, and athletic, sometimes, and powerful in whatever way you'd like to read that. That's true no matter what.

And yet (this will hurt) fat bodies are still (I'm sorry, I'm so sorry) not good enough. If the system is the problem, your individual empowerment is not the (whole) solution.

When I say that I want to be evil, what I mean is I want to be free. I want the strange rare days I've known I was desirable because I was desired, specifically and individually. I want the days where I grant myself dignity. I want the day where I lived peacefully in my mostly-naked body around hundreds of strangers, and went to bed happy.

Reading is input, it's taking in. I can't read my way all the way out of fatphobia, out of body shame because that's like trying to put out a forest fire 2000km away by throwing baking soda on your stove element. (Not harmful, but insufficient and misdirected.) It has been so helpful to know that other people wrestle with all of this, in ways that are more intelligent and expert than mine; it doesn't change material reality, though.

It's not the shame that's the problem, but where it comes from. It's not my internalized fatphobia or low self-worth or lack of body confidence that keeps people from life-saving medical care because their doctors were obsessed with their weight instead of their symptoms. My soft abdomen has never shamed a stranger on the internet, my calves (never in tall boots) haven't forced someone to buy a second seat.

Maybe it's time that I redefine what I mean when I say I want to be evil. I want to be a hot villain that was justified in their takedown of the status quo. I want to put a crown on every head. I want these thick thighs under me as I pull you into my lap and love you, and to use those fire emojis to make room for new growth.

I want us all at the pool together, celebrating as the sun sets.

*I'm using "fat" to here mean something like "size 16 US women's or larger," but there's no good definition

[plasticfangtastic]

american royalty. ch. 2

A Homelander x F!reader fanfic.

a/n: will post ch. 3 this week but sadly my other fic will be posted next week, enjoy this slow burn dadlander fic, and thx u to all the readers. prev. chapter:

Sypnosis: Homelander never wanted to remember you, but after welcoming Ryan into his life, he thought of you & the lie that tore you two apart. Now... thinking back, thinking of your betrayal-- was he perhaps wrong about who the father of your unborn child was? Did you perhaps told the truth all those years ago?

Tags: mild gore, angst, lots of angst, slow burn, fluff, OC characther, child neglect, dadlander, romance.

Chapter Two

Red

It had been a very long day, business was booming nowadays and since that influencer had made a couple videos on your pizzeria, you had been more than just busy, you began to run out of ingredients.

 In the last four years, the restaurant had grown, it had been there since 2002 ran by your boss’s father and his brother, who had ran their own pizza shop since the 80’s but as the economy and other events hit, they had decided to relocate and re-brand, now managed by their son– a man you owed so much, had his heart not been filled with kindness you would most likely be in the streets. So you made sure his restaurant was the best, you had accolades, you’ve worked in some of the best restaurants, you were once a very prominent fast rising figure of the New York culinary scene– until Homelander came along.

Your talent revamped the restaurant and now your food was once again on the spotlight, for the first time since you left Vought, you were happy with yourself, even if it was pizza. Cooking made you happy, and this job needed you, you didn’t live in fear of sleeping in your car anymore, you didn’t need to worry that your daughter would sleep on somebody’s couch again, you were able to quit your third job and go casual on your second thanks to this place, right now you didn’t live in the best of places but you were saving up and in a couple months you’d have enough money saved up to move, and send your daughter to a better school, somewhere were her talents wouldn’t be wasted.

So here you were ten minutes before closing, another extra couple hours of overtime for your dream two bedroom apartment, where it would be safe for her, where you could finally feel like your life had moved on from him, that the door opened up and your cashier squealed.

It was a quaint looking restaurant, the wood seating was new and the wall decor had been changed trying to look less cluttered, with Art Deco lighting fixtures as the stand out feature. The place had been remodeled recently it seems, the kitchen and its big brick oven looked clean but ancient to Homelander, he stared at the menu board and metal boxes of accouterments by the counters, taking in that this was in fact a pizza place, that you of all people did in fact work at a pizza place. You who could whip up amazing fare, now made greasy cheap slices, but he had seen people come in and leave endlessly these past few days, people taking selfies, and recording themselves with your food, nothing he understood.

He looked back at the teenager on the counter offering his signature smile as she blubbered her script, then as you took a step closer knowing you couldn’t hide in this open kitchen you finally looked at each other for the first time in seven years.

Your throat collapsed and your whole body became prickly and tight, your heart was beating so fast you thought you might be having a heart attack, you looked at the clock cursing that it wasn’t over, you were almost done packing the kitchen and readying for tomorrow, having a customer at this hour was awful but having him here was about to take you to an early grave.

“What’s your best seller?” Homelander muttered looking straight at you with an aloof stare, then back at the cashier– is pizza night at my house, sorry for coming so late hope that’s not a problem?” he said exceedingly politely.

The teenager blushed and looked back at you as if asking you to pinch her.

“That would be our pepperoni queen– is two types of cheese, extra pepperoni, with our signature house made marinara, with a dash of vodka sauce in our sourdough thin crust… chili oil is optional” You had managed to say trying to ignore those piercing blue eyes, you moved back to your place staring at the few remaining trays of dough balls left– our second best seller is our chicken florentine pie.”

Homelander admittedly detested pizza, it was greasy, gooey and heavy, it was fattening and gross, but there was a familiar aroma in the room, something that was making his mouth water lightly. Looking back at the girl, he ordered both in their smallest size offered, he sat by one of the wooden booths for the ten minutes he was told to wait, and not once did he made a comment, maybe that’s why your heart stung so much, why it felt as if you were about to collapse– that after seven years, he had completely forgotten about you, while only now did you began to feel as if you could heal from all the suffering he’d cause you, how insignificant had you been all along, how you love never registered.

You both had talked of moving in together and buying a home, he wanted to buy you a restaurant, and you wanted to give him your life, you had never loved somebody as much as he made you love him, and now you were just some bum wearing a graphic t-shirt making him dinner.

You packed his food, your boss Kaleem had given him extras on the house, practically begging for Homelander to give them a photo for their socials and you simply stare as he did his superhero thing, you took one of the delivery bags knowing he would lose the food if he flew with them in hand.

After the photoshoot, Kaleem and your cashier had run to the back to show the picture to the only other staffer left at this hour.

You both looked at each other as he took the bag off your hands, you wanted to cry, your eyes welling up but you looked down afraid of him, no doubt he could hear your heartbeat tickling his ear.

“It's been a while hasn’t it?” 

You could’ve collapsed into tears right then and there, it was worse to be remembered.

Growing angry at the sound of his soft voice, and that concerned expression in his face.

“Yes…”

“How you been? Didn’t think I'd ever see you again.”

“Should’ve killed me back then… got fucking close to it tho.” You dropped all pleasantries, hearing him talk and not hearing the word sorry 5 seconds in, had infuriated you. His stupid face, those stupid eyes, and that clown suit was too much for you, maybe it was the poor diet and lack of sleep but right now you wanted to ban him from Lucci’s– hope you enjoy the food.”

You pushed the bag jumping from the kitchen to the front as you headed for the door, holding it open for him.

“I’m doing alright. Now leave!” 

“You don’t even want to know why I'm here?” he was taken aback by your brashness, you had always been sweet to him, tender, barely ever angry before, so why now?

“You got a little kid now, I gather like any other kid, he likes pizza… and good for him because mine is the best!”

“Not really… I actually wanted to see you. I… I just wanted to ask you something–

“Mother!!”

Your daughter emerged from the depths of the kitchen, she carried a kindle in one hand and a giftcard in the other.

“Is it okay if I use my present now? They got some books on sale and you said not to buy more books until I finished… oh…”

In the light and in front of him, your daughter truly looked like your mirror image, copy and pasted into a miniature. Her hair just past her chin, and her bangs indeed covered her eyes, peeking behind those curtains were the prettiest blue eyes he’d ever seen, there was no unnatural shine to them– just blue. Her lips so thin and her complexion just a tad paler than your own now that he gave it a proper look, she was so small-- too small for her age.

“Is okay honey, is your birthday you can get any books you want” Your tone shifted entirely lowering yourself to take her face and plant a quick peck on her cheek– now go back with uncle Kaleem and let mommy close shop, okay? We’ll go home in a minute.”

“Is it your birthday young lady? Congratulations.”

Homelander threw his best smile, giving the kid a cautious pet, catching the rage in your eyes as his gloved fingers touched your daughter.

“Thanks. Is not a milestone birthday so it is not worthy of congratulations… seems inane to celebrate it” she looked at her mother with a jaded expression– " I'll go get my bag, have a good night, sir.”

Homelander pressed his lip as the most deadpan voice came out of this little girl. Her oversized black sweater and the black tights made her look oddly unhappy, but the kid just stared at him with boredom, no surprise or interest when she stood next to America's favorite son.

He wondered if that was an adult or a seven year old for a second.

He worried if the kid had told his mother about that other night, but looking back at you he went with 'maybe'.

“What’s your name?” he asked, still forcing a smile– "my… you seem like a smart girl getting books for your birthday.”

“Helena.”

The kid couldn’t muster the energy to give him anything but her dead ass voice, she began to walk away not caring for manners, nor Homelander.

“She’s… cute.” he said watching that tiny figure walk away and surviving after her second nsult– great pronunciation for her age, does she even know what she’s saying?”

“Helena is not like other kids.”

“How so?” 

You looked at him more tired than anything, rubbing your temples as you made yourself waste spit to talk to him.

“She’s a Supe… by the time she was two she could speak in full sentences, by three she could read at a first and second grade level, and by five she was teaching herself calculus and piano… she’s a genius; I thought she was a normal genius until… her other powers manifested– none of this matters! Just go!” You shook your head in frustration.

“You gave her V?” He said while staring at Helena.

“... I didn’t know what V was until the news broke out, I thought Helena was chosen by God! That the world blessed her with those powers, but when that story came out I’ve been wanting to ask you– did you give her V? but… if you didn’t… who… are you lying to me, John?”

Homelander looked past the concrete walls looking back at that little girl, he didn’t know what to say or do, before you could utter another word he left.

Ryan nose picked the meal quickly, glad that it was friday and his dad would let him stay up ‘til late, Homelander just dropped the meal on their new table and the kid was quick on his feet, the food was still warm, only now did Homelander noticed the extras, couple of small containers holding chili oil and freshly made ranch, garlic knots and a lemon meringue pie, it was too much but Ryan hadn’t hesitated to dig in, before Homelander could ask him to wash his hands he had ripped a slice of pepperoni.

“This is so good!” He said so cheerfully– gosh I was starving, dad.”

“I sure hope so, bud… let’s leave the pie for tomorrow…” he looked grossed out, Ryan sat opening up the garlic knot’s containers– not gonna eat?”

Homelander sat down to join him, the thought of touching all those greasy surfaces was making his stomach hurl, but he relented, taking a slice. 

He was young again, and you were there coming back with some drinks as he ate your chicken florentine, this was the same recipe, the chicken was so juicy and the cheese wasn’t greasy. Ryan was shocked to see his father sound so happy as he took another bite.

It was the first time they both ate together where they felt completely comfortable with each other, maybe it was seeing Ryan not pick at his food that made Homelander able to just talk, Ryan told him all about his homework, and the videogame he was playing, he really liked Fifa at the moment even if he himself cared not for the sport.

Helena watched as her mother stood silently hovering above the sink, you hadn’t moved much for a couple of minutes, your daughter more annoyed than anything else regarding this display.

“How do you know Homelander?” she asked with a yawn.

“Huh?” you woke up from your trance– you should be in bed, darling.”

“You too. So… How do you know the clown?”

“Honey, don't say that!”

“He walks around wearing a onesie all day… like a clown… like the rest of those super clowns”

Your daughter always spoke with a creepy maturity, her voice didn’t belong to a kid.

“... He used to be my boss… he was a really bad boss…”

“You used to work for Vought?” She softened her stand.

“Honey… I don’t really want to talk about this… it's late and we are going to the museum tomorrow so you should get some sleep, mommy is just tired… hope you had a good birthday.”

“You should rest too, mother.”

Your daughter's eyes glowed momentarily turning th blinkers off before she made her way to bed, you stared at her door, thinking if she could see you.

No mother should think their child was creepy, Helena was just difficult and abrasive, to be a small kid with her brain must be unbearable. You could recall the moment she asked you about V so vividly, she looked angry, but you had no honest answer to give her, you had to lie, god knows if you got the details right about how these people committed these crimes. Helena simply had no ability to relate to people, and without the funds you couldn’t help her meet her potential, not while you were both stuck living in public housing, not while scraping every penny.

Her few friends forced her to dumb down and even they found her uneasy, only the old people seemed to handle her best, she loved to listen, and her teachers always thought of her as  a delight, yet she knew no other Supe beside herself, those pageants were expensive, and networking meetings were hard to get in, talent agencies were costly– having a super-abled kid and trying to make them into a Supe was locked behind a massive paywall, all you could hope was that her genius would let her enter a university early on scholarships.

There was always Godolkin, but god knows if they would let her enter at a young age.

It would be easy if her father was involved, if John was there in her life, she would have the world but he didn’t want her, he had made that clear years ago.

So why did he lie about the V? 

It had been two weeks since you seen Homelander, but he saw you a lot, he'd come back and forth-- watching you and the child with ardent curiosity, seeing you made him reminisce, of those many nights and afternoons, of the way no matter how tired you were, you always made sure to look happy when he showed up, the way you looked so at peace while cooking, of the feel of your skin against his and the taste of your precious lips as you kissed him good morning. 

He followed you, on your only day off as you took Helena around the city, watching you share a slice of overprice cake while taking notes, and ate cheap chinese for lunch, you waited for two hours as Helena played chess and checkers with some oldies at a chess shop, some russian man gave her lessons-- some of these people dressed nicely perhaps pros. Some won over her and some lost but the games were quick, your daughter seemed happier when she loss than when winning.

Something about that didn’t sit well with Homelander.

Somehow he found himself in your apartment, cracking open the window to sneak in while you headed back home– the tiny apartment felt more like a closet than a habitable space, the ceilign was run down, and the appliances ancient but well kept, your bedroom was simple, cooking books and boxes sat on top of your dressers, a single’s bed with plush comforters and pillows stuck against the wall, with a wardrobe in front of it, and a cheap fan tucked in the corner. He left for your daughter’s room just a few feet away divided by the bathroom were most of the clutter and laundry lived, her bedroom was just as plain, but the books didn’t seem fit for a small child, her desk tidy and organized, he picked up a notebook from the pile, seeing math equations that hurt his eyes within seconds. All her stuff were nice and new, she had a decent computer on top of her bed, an old dresser, but there was an absence of toys– compared to Ryan’s bedroom that was filled with anything he wanted and decorated expertly. A clock adorned her walls but not much else, the few things that looked messy was a tiny plastic chess set, the kind with magnets on the bottom, and some DIY stem kits.

He took to the bathroom, it was old and falling apart, mold was growing in the corner much to Homelander’s disgust, trolley held dozens of beauty stuff and shampoos and detergents, a shelf on the wall held towels and toilet rolls. Homelander looked at a sparkly hairbrush, picking a couple strands of lost hair knowing by their lengths and color that they weren’t yours, and cursing himself for doing this as he place them on small plastic bag he had hid in his glove.

[jqmalikhsgib]

midnight sky

one

what you were doing was absolutely insane! you just met the man not even twenty four hours ago. but the connection the two of you had was incredible, almost like you were made for each other. maybe you were.

the day started off like every other morning. you groaned as your alarm clock went off, got out of bed, took a quick shower, brushed your teeth, and finally made it down town to your favorite local coffee shop.

you ordered a basic coffee and a pastry before sitting in your normal spot, far in the back. you took your laptop out of your bag and began grading papers, groaning and rolling your eyes at the students who didn’t turn in a paper yet.

after about thirty minutes you heard commotion outside. normally you’d ignore it. it’s new york city after all, it was always filled with nosy people. today was different! flashes came from the window, almost blinding you more than the sun.

you heard people screaming as if someone fell and died. you looked up and saw the paparazzi outside. frowning, you grabbed your things and headed for the door.

“shit! im sorry, love!”

groaning at your coffee spilling on the ground, you were ready to yell at whoever this pretentious actor or whatever he was! not caring if the media and his fans tore you a new one.

“watch where you—”

you couldn’t even finish your sentence. he was the most beautiful man you had ever seen. from his buzzed hair cut, beautiful brown eyes, tattooed neck, and his attire. he was the most attractive man you’ve ever seen.

“are you alright, babe?” even his accent was perfect.

“uh—yeah—yeah! im sorry.”

he chuckles, “it’s my fault, really.”

you were frozen. completely mesmerized by this beautiful man in front of you. your heart skipped a beat.

“it’s fine—um, i should get going.” you began walking away, pushing through the loads of paps. you needed to get far away so you could get that man out of your mind.

unfortunately the moment you got home you looked him up. you needed to know who he was and where he was from. you searched the location of the coffee shop and found tmz reporting the images.

“zayn malik. fuck, even his name is perfect!” you dived into everything zayn malik and began to sigh. soon you find his instagram, noticing he only had a few post. you assumed he deleted his old post due to him starting a new era for his next album.

biting your lip you sigh as you close your eyes processing. god, where you an idiot for even thinking about messaging him. maybe? you knew he probably got thousands of messages everyday, but it was something about him. you click on his profile, clicked on message, and began typing.

‘hi..god, you probably won’t see this, most likely won’t even open it, won’t bat an eye, but i thought i should text you. i guess im intrigued you could say.’

you wait patiently until you heard your phone vibrate. you had never picked up your phone so quickly. you smiled hugely when you saw it was him that sent you a message.

‘hey! normally i don’t open this app unless im posting something about me music or a selfie. coffee shop girl, right?’

smiling, you typed,

‘yeah! sorry about spilling that coffee by the way. im normally not that clumsy.’

‘haha!’

‘it’s cool, babe. got a three year old! use to clumsy.’

‘oh? didn’t noticed you had a kid. gonna be honest, i kinda went on a bit of a stalker session finding you.’

‘really? that’s cute!’

‘yeah! got a daughter. she’s the sweetest thing ever!’

‘i love kids! i always wanted to teach kids instead of middle schoolers. kids love to color and draw. middle schoolers love to gossip and fight.’

‘ha! not ready for that at all!’

‘you’re a teacher, huh? that was my career path before i became a musician.’

‘i enjoy teaching! wanted to since i could remember!’

‘you guys are doing great work! deserve a pay raise!!’

‘tell that to the us government. 😩’

‘fuck them all!!!’

‘agreed!’

‘how bout i meet you up for a coffee? promise, no paps this time?’

‘right now?’

‘yeah…is that okay, babe?’

‘yeah—yeah! ill be there in twenty.’

‘cool! see you soon ;)’

you never got ready so fast in your life. heading downstairs from your building and walking a few blocks to the coffee shop, you spot zero paps and zayn sitting inside your booth. you smile before walking into the building. when he spots you, he smiles at you, stands up, and gives you a hug.

“hey.”

“hi.” you sit in the seat right across from him.

“never got your name. your instagram account doesn’t give it away.”

you blush. you created your instagram when you were in middle school. being overly obsessed with harry potter as a kid and extremely dorky, you had to go with ‘voldedork_hp,’

you never got around to changing it. now you regret that decision one hundred percent. “im sorry about that. a little embarrassed.”

“don’t be! it’s cute. im a huge harry potter fan myself. i went as voldemort last halloween as a mater-of-fact.”

“my names yn.”

“it’s nice to meet you yn. you have a lovely name by the way.”

you snort. feeling like your name was completely bland compared to his!

“may i ask where you’re from? your accent, it’s pretty thick, even for someone born in the uk.”

zayn chuckles. “yeah! m’from bradford england. my pops is pakistani so my accent comes out a little bit stronger i guess. what about you? you don’t sound like a new yorker.” he takes a sip of his coffee.

“im not! born and raised in texas actually.”

“texas, huh? you’re a little way from home, yeah?”

“i got a full scholarship for new york university! i couldn’t pass on that opportunity.”

“brains and beauty, huh?”

you blush. he was definitely a flirt! the two of you got to know one another for the next four hours. you both lost track of time. zayn phone blows up and he continues to ignore it. enjoying his time getting to know the pretty woman across from him. you were loving the company and conversation. it felt like you knew each other for the longest time. you were both laughing and listening to each other tell some crazy story. it felt right.

“how about we get out of this coffee shop, yeah? maybe walk around new york? i promise, no paps. i know places they’ll never go.” he winks at you. you nod before getting out of the booth. zayn grabs your hand and interlocks your fingers.

you were surprised but you didn’t object or pull away. zayn paid for his coffee, leaving a generous tip before leaving. you walk hand and hand around new york, enjoying each other’s company. you continued to talk about everything. the two of you got along so well, you felt crazy for already falling for him. you just met the man! how could you already have such strong feelings for the musician? were you seriously losing your mind? you just couldn’t help how you felt though.

zayn felt the same way. it’s why, standing in front of a courthouse, holding your hand as the moonlight shines, he got the craziest idea. he stops, looks you in the eye, and caresses your cheek. “may i kiss you, babe?”

you blushed, nodding nonetheless. when his lips touched yours, you felt the whole world stopped. god, how could such a beautiful man be this perfect? when he pulls away he grabs your hand and runs across the street. it was like faith, standing in front of a kay jewelers and a bridal shop. you laugh as he looks at you with the biggest grin on his face.

“what?”

“this is gonna be the craziest thing ive ever done or said but, i just—i feel like ive known you for the longest time. you’re beautiful, funny, smart, and amazing. i—i feel like we’re meant to be, meant to meet each other. and you, god maybe this is insane! you can totally say no, kick my ass, slap me, whatever you want, but this is just perfect. it’s almost like faith,”

“what is it?” you asked nervously.

“a jeweler, a bridal shop, and a courthouse right across the street. maybe this is the universe telling us to just go for it. let’s get married.”

normally if a man had asked you this you’d laugh in his face. you’d think he was absolutely insane for even suggesting this idea. but seeing all the key details, it’s like a story from a fairytale! who were you to pass up a fairytale story?

“okay!”

“yeah?”

you nod your head. zayn kisses you passionately before calling up taryn to be a witness! once he convinced her, he grabs your hand, head into the jewelry parlor, the two of you pick your rings before going to the bridal shop and grabbing the most gorgeous dress and a suit, before heading across the street to officially get married.

“are we doing this, forreal?”

“yeah, yeah we are! let’s get married, baby!”

and before you know it, you become misses malik. a true fairytale.

i really hope you all like this fic! it’s not enough zayn fics out there and i need people to make some!

what do you think?

if you wanna be added to taglist please don’t hesitate to ask!!!

[nishik1]

౨ৎ 𝐔𝐠𝐡, 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞! - 𝐢𝐩𝐞𝐧 🤓 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬

nishimurizz: Nishimura Riki’s (aka NI-KI) public account. Riki is a senior in high school but is quite popular among his classmates, despite the fact that most of his friends have graduated. Riki has been a dancer since he was young and began posting videos online. He blew up a few years ago and is now a popular dance influencer on social media! Him and Y/N met in middle school and have been best friends ever since.

rikijackson: Riki’s private account.

yangjw_: Yang Jungwon is one of Riki’s friends who was in the year above Riki. Jungwon graduated last year. Jungwon does taekwondo and is popular on tiktok because of some viral videos he posted.

evan_lee: Lee Heeseung is the oldest of Riki’s friends, Heeseung is a popular twitch streamer and basketball player. Heeseung plays for his college basketball team.

jaypark: Park Jongseong (Stage name Jay) is a popular musician. He writes and produces all of his music! Jay also posts cooking videos on his vlogging channel, which is part of the reason why he’s so popular!

sheluvsjake.: Sim Jaeyun (known as Jake at school), is one of Riki’s closest friends. While he’s three years older than Riki, the two have been inseparable since they met through Y/N and Sunghoon back when they were young. Jake plays soccer for his college team and is tiktok famous because his thirst traps always go viral.

psh_skate: Park Sunghoon is Y/N’s older brother and honestly the main reason for Y/N’s popularity at school. Sunghoon is a college figure skater who skates for the republic of Korea! Sunghoon is very protective over Y/N and scares off almost every guy who looks in her direction for too long.

sunoodles: Kim Sunoo is a fashion influencer on social media. He graduated two years ago but despite being Riki’s senior, he was one of Riki’s closest friends when he first started high school. Sunoo is very popular on tiktok and known for his amazing selfie skills on instagram and twitter!

𝐦𝐢𝐤𝐨’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: not too much changed with enha, they’re just not models anymore and are all famous for their own reasons ! also I made enhas pfps first so thats why theyre so much more detailed in the descriptions…

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯 | 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭