#no one is forcing him to stay with louis

[thegayestdiaz]

people conflating how much power louis has in this (and past) relationship frustrates me because for as many vile, cruel, evil things louis can say to armand, he’s still the one being forced to stay in this fucked up situationship because armand won’t let him leave. someone doesn’t have to be a good person to be a victim. louis is an awful person but that doesn’t mean he deserves the abuse he’s suffered and painting these old ass manipulative vampires as the ones that have endured him as if they haven’t put themselves into these situations with louis is fucking crazy

[235uranium]

I do think so much about louis' ending though. he spends all this time realizing who he is and how he'll never be satisfied living as a Normal Wealthy Herbivore... but has to make the painful decision to go through with an arranged marriage so he can use his position of immense privilege to force political reform. and he's like, 20.

[f0point5]

i NEED jealous Max. Please 🥺🥺🥺 I love jealous/possessive guys haha the feminism just leaves my body

Me too! GOD. Me, too.

It took me ages to decide how to go about this because I had soooo many ideas but I hope you like it!

✨set during the Miami GP weekend 2022✨

Everybody wants you, but I don’t like a gold rush

Max glances down at his watch. 17 minutes. 17 minutes you’ve been standing in the gallery area of the garage, fanning yourself with a magazine - with Max’s face on the front of it, no less - in the Miami heat, talking to some freakishly tall guy in a Louis Vuitton denim jacket and aviator sunglasses. He’s so painfully American that Max wonders what you even have to talk about for…eighteen minutes.

You tighten your high ponytail while Paul Bunyon talks, his mouth wide with every word. Max studies your face for any sign that you’re bored. He’s bored of watching this, but he knows from experience that not looking isn’t a real option. You haven’t looked over at him once in those eighteen minutes, in fact you haven’t even been distracted by the mechanics moving around or the noise of drilling and clattering tools.

This guy must be really fucking interesting.

You smile at something Captain America says and Max feels his jaw clenched so hard he thinks a tooth is going to crack.

It’s like he’s thirteen again, watching you stand in the middle of the makeshift paddock at the karting track, swarmed by every one of his competitors, their parents packing up their stuff as they vie for your attention. He was the only one who stayed away, following his dad’s instructions on how to properly dismantle and store things while sneaking glimpses at the show you were running. He would win every race and still go home feeling like a loser.

It’s different now, of course. He doesn’t take your gregarious nature so personally now, and he can admit he understands what men see in you now, even if he doesn’t feel it. But he’d be lying if he said it doesn’t trigger something in him to see the way men react to you. It might irritate him less if you enjoyed it, but you’ve long since grown out of that. Now, you expect it so much that you ignore it, and Max has no choice to but to notice it, the same way you’d notice a rusty knife embedded in your side.

“You’re not listening to me, are you?” GP says, which snaps Max out of his calculations.

“I’m listening,” Max says, fiddling with the brim of his cap. “Drive fast, win race, I got it,”

GP frowns at his dismissive tone, and Max makes a point of looking at his water bottle, lest GP realise what actually had his attention. “Max, you need to focus. What are you even-“ It’s the sound of your laugh - high pitched over the deep bass of the music - that makes GP look across the garage. His features twist in disapproval as he turns back to Max. “You’ve got to be kidding me,”

Max looks down at his shoes, moving his foot as he inspects them. “What?”

Above him, GP groans. “I’m not going to say anything about the situation as a whole, because it’s waste of my time. But specifically now, she’s right there, she’s not going anywhere. Can we please just go through this once and then you can carry on staring?”

Max rolls his eyes, steeling his face as a cameraman enters the garage. He’s wearing a Red Bull shirt so Max doesn’t mind too much, but he can’t be captured looking as morose as he feels. The cameraman pans past him and onto you and the guest. Max watches you cringe as the guy throws up some hand sign to the camera, clearly at home with the media attention.

“Who even is that?” Max asks, unable to hide his rancour. He’s probably going to be forced to take a picture with Popeye later.

“I don’t know, some American football player?” GP says with a shrug, giving Max a helpless look. GP couldn’t give less of a shit about the celebrity guests touted around the gargae, and normally Max is his ally. “Are we done?”

Max nods, but not even a second later he’s looking again. It gets worse the more you talk, he can see this guy becoming more enchanted by the second. He wonders what kind of steroids they take in American sports leagues because the meathead is acting like a dog in heat. He leans towards you at an angle that is wholly unnecessary, his eyes fixated on your mouth, nodding too emphatically at everything you say.

“My God, why doesn’t he just lick her face,” Max says incredulously, more to himself than anything.

“Max,” GP sighs.

“Come on,” Max implores with a scoff, stopping himself from outright gesturing in your direction. “Look at him. That’s embarrassing,”

GP fixes Max with a deadpan expression. “Right, but you being sulky and jealous is the height of cool?”

“I’m not jealous.”

And he isn’t. Because Joe DiMaggio over there doesn’t have anything he wants. He’s not going to waste time being jealous of a guy getting half an hour with you when he has cats, and a home, and a life with you.

Finally, you look in his direction, but only because GP calls your name. “Can you come here?”

You give GP a thumbs up and excuse yourself, trotting over to Max without a second thought. Wannabe Tom Brady brazenly enjoys the view, and Max swears he hasn’t been that close to punching someone since Monza last year.

“What’s up?” You ask, slotting yourself between the two men as you lean back against the shelf.

GP hands you his phone. “Beat this Candy Crush level for me, would you? Been stuck for days,”

You look at him skeptically, but years of being filmed up close by cameras on the pit wall have given GP a hell of a poker face; he just stares back at you, and you give up with a huff.

“Men are hopeless,” you say with a roll of your eyes.

“Couldn’t agree more,” GP says, his eyes pointedly on Max, who can’t even defend himself.

Desperate to avoid GP’s scrutiny, he glances over at the gallery, only to find the Yank looking at him. Well, not him, you. He’s got that curious expression as he assesses you fiddling with GP’s phone, one that says he’s trying to understand if he has something to be worried about. He doesn’t. You’re not his to worry about.

“Here,” Max says, pulling off his cap. You barely look up at him before he puts his cap firmly on your head, holding it steady with one hand while pulling your ponytail through the hole at the back with the other.

The brim of the hat obscures half your face, and Max turns so that half your body is shielded by his, which he tells himself is in case a camera comes by.

“It’s sunny,” Max shrugs in his own defence, when he notices you looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

You adjust the cap on your head but don’t take it off. “Why don’t you just give me your letterman jacket?”

“My what?”

“Never mind,” you chuckle, shaking your head at him as you pat his chest with an indulgent smile.

He takes the opportunity at the sound of a large wheel gun to glance over at the gallery, only to meet the eyes of the guy you were talking to. Now that you’re no longer next to him, Max does sort of recognise him. He plays for some team named after an animal. Max just looks at him - he’ll do this all day if he has to - until the guy shoves his hands in his pockets and pulls out his phone, starting to tap away. Yeah, go back to Raya.

Good riddance, Max thinks to himself as he turns back to you, only to find that you already looking at him. He wonders for how long.

He can tell by your smirk that he’s been caught. If he’s honest with himself you caught him five years ago, this was just one of the few moments he let you know it. And you know it. How could you not know?

He thinks for a second that you’re going to tease him, but you don’t. You shift on your feet so that some of your weight rests against his arm, and go back to playing on GP’s phone.

“Go on, GP,” he says, fighting a smile at the large number 1 on the brim of what is now your hat.

He knows from the way GP is looking at him that he’ll get an earful about this later, but right now, he just clears his throat.

“Right, so,”

[isaadore]

ILLICIT AFFAIRS LANDO NORRIS

pairing lando norris x reader

SUMMARY you meet lando at a charity event and immediately hit it off. as time went on, you slowly fall for him, but he feels the need to keep you a secret. despite the endless promises from him to make the relationship public, he never follows through on them, leaving you feeling like an option instead of a priority. inspired by “illicit affairs” by taylor swift.

word count 4.4k words

warnings HEAVY angst, lando’s a red flag, unrequited love, emotional manipulation

note first ever lando fic <3

MAIN MASTERLIST LN4 MASTERLIST

THE ATMOSPHERE AT the charity event buzzed with energy as the low hum of conversations blended with the soft clinking of champagne glasses. Lights flickered across the spacious hall, casting shadows on the elegantly dressed guests mingling in clusters, each face adorned with a mask of friendliness. You stood at the edge of the room, clipboard in hand, checking off the names of donors and VIPs as they arrived. As a volunteer, your role was straightforward: coordinate and stay out of the way. However, beneath your composure, nerves twisted in your stomach. Each signature was a reminder of your own smallness in a world where you clearly did not belong.

You observed the attendees flitting from one conversation to another, their laughter ringing like tiny explosions of wealth. Each smile and cheerful greeting served as a reminder of your own anonymity, as you felt like a cog in a machine that hummed with life while you remained unseen.

It was nearing the end of the evening when you spotted him: Lando Norris, a few feet away, laughing at something one of his friends had said. There was something infectious about his laughter, a sound that seemed to ripple through the room, drawing the eyes of those nearby. You recognized him immediately, of course. You weren’t an F1 fanatic, but you knew his name. Yet, seeing him in person was different. He seemed… more real, somehow. Not just a face on a screen or a name in a headline, but a person.

His tousled hair glimmered under the soft lighting, and his eyes sparkled as he chatted with his friends. You felt an unexpected rush of warmth in your cheeks as you watched him, your heart picking up pace in a way that left you both excited and apprehensive. He must have felt your gaze because he turned in your direction, his eyes catching yours briefly. A playful smile danced across his lips. You looked away quickly, mortified to have been caught.

At that moment, time seemed to freeze. The noise of the event faded into the background as your mind raced. What would it be like to actually talk to him? Would he be as charming in person as he seemed on social media? Your thoughts were interrupted as he turned back to his friends, and you fought the urge to sink back into the shadows, convinced you’d never get the chance to speak to him.

You were almost certain that would be the last interaction you had with him, ever. As the event wound down, you found yourself stationed at the coat check by the exit. The evening felt like it was dragging on, your mind preoccupied with thoughts of everything and nothing at once. 

“You’re the one who was working the check-in, right?” Lando asked, his voice cutting through your thoughts, clear and bright. There he was, standing in front of you, just as you thought you would never interact with him again.

You managed to nod, surprised and unsure how to respond, suddenly feeling self-conscious under his gaze. The warmth of his presence was both exhilarating and terrifying.

“You’ve been here the whole night, then?” he asked, pulling out a small, leather Louis Vuitton wallet and handing over a ticket for his coat.

“Pretty much,” you said with a shrug, forcing yourself to maintain a professional tone despite the way your heart was hammering in your chest. “But it’s worth it. It’s for a good cause.”

He tilted his head, genuinely intrigued. “Why volunteer for something like this?”

You paused, considering your words carefully as you glanced away, searching for a deeper truth to share. “I guess… I like feeling like I’m part of something bigger. Helping people, even if it’s in a small way. It’s like… I want to make a difference.”

Lando nodded thoughtfully, taking back his coat. “That’s cool. Not many people would spend their night doing that.”

He kept the conversation going for a bit longer, discussing the event, the guests, and the poor quality of the food. For a moment, you almost forgot he was a professional athlete; he seemed like just an ordinary guy passing by, someone you enjoyed talking to.

You didn’t expect to see him again after that night, but two days later, your phone pinged with a message from an unknown number.

Hope I’m not overstepping. Got your number from the event coordinator.

It’s Lando.

You stared at the message, half convinced you’d imagined it. But when you replied, he answered almost instantly.

hey, you’re not overstepping. it’s good to hear from you.

It’s good to hear from you too. :)

You both started off talking casually, moving from occasional texts to asking about each other’s day and then to late-night calls.

As the weeks turned into months, your connection grew in ways you never expected. Each message and call felt like a rope, pulling you closer to him, closing the gap between your worlds. You found yourself counting down the days until the next race weekend, not because you wanted to see him drive but because of the brief moments when he’d disappear from the paddock to call you, his voice filled with adrenaline and excitement. The rush of his laughter and the stolen moments made you feel alive, as though you were experiencing a thrill far beyond what Formula 1 could offer.

One evening, Lando suggested meeting up after the Monaco GP. It was late, and he was exhausted, but he insisted on walking along the harbour with you despite the whispers and glances from passing fans. There was a thrill to it like you were sharing a secret the rest of the world didn’t know. He wrapped his arm around you, pulling you close as you both stared out at the city lights reflecting on the water.

The air was thick as you wandered through the narrow streets, laughter and music drifting from the nearby bars. You felt a strange sense of belonging, as though the world had faded away and left just the two of you.

“You ever feel like you’re living two lives?” he asked suddenly, his voice low and contemplative, breaking the comfortable silence.

You glanced up at him, surprised. “What do you mean?”

He shrugged, his gaze fixed on the distant horizon. “Like… there’s the life everyone sees. The races, the media, the expectations. And then there’s this other part. The real part. Where I get to just… be me.”

You looked at him, feeling the weight of his words pressing down on you. “Which life is this, then?” you asked, your heart racing with curiosity and longing.

He smiled down at you, his eyes softening, but the hint of sadness lurking there sent a shiver down your spine. “The one I wish I could live all the time,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

You wanted to reach out, to comfort him in whatever way he needed, but the fear of crossing an invisible line held you back. Instead, you settled for a gentle nudge against his side, leaning into him as you walked. “What would it take to make that happen?” you asked, hopeful yet anxious, searching for a hint of what could be.

Lando chuckled softly, the sound tinged with a hint of melancholy. “I wish I knew. Sometimes I feel like I’m stuck in a whirlwind. The moment I think I’m free, something pulls me back in. It’s exhausting.”

You nodded, the weight of his words resonating within you. The world of fame and racing was foreign, filled with its own set of rules and expectations. But standing there with him, you felt you needed to pull him away from it all to show him the life he yearned for.

As months passed, the excitement of your connection began to dim. The secrecy that had once felt thrilling now weighed heavily on you. Each time you’d fly out to see him, you’d find yourself sneaking into hotels, slipping out before dawn, hiding from prying eyes. Lando would promise it was only temporary, that one day he’d be able to let everyone know about you. However, you started to feel like you were playing a part in someone else’s story, always waiting for a spotlight that would never come.

The turning point came one night in Barcelona. Lando had invited you to the race afterparty, and while you knew you’d be lurking in the shadows, you hoped that at least for a moment, he might acknowledge you. You spent hours picking out an outfit, wanting to look your best while still remaining inconspicuous. But as you arrived, the excitement in your chest quickly morphed into dread as you took in the crowd.

The night went on, and it became clear he was keeping his distance, chatting with colleagues, posing for pictures, always careful to stay on the opposite side of the room. The way he laughed with others, his vibrant energy lighting up the space, only amplified your sense of isolation. You tried to blend in, chatting with other guests, but the feeling of invisibility gnawed at you, a constant reminder of the line he was drawing between his life and your place in it.

You watched as he effortlessly interacted with the media. It was intoxicating and heart-wrenching all at once, knowing you were just out of reach, a spectator lurking in the background. You couldn’t shake the feeling that you were being left behind, the light of his world shining so brightly that it eclipsed everything else.

Eventually, you slipped outside, finding a quiet spot on a balcony overlooking the city below. The cool air stung against your skin as you leaned on the railing, staring out into the night.

It wasn’t long before you felt Lando’s presence beside you. He didn’t say anything at first, just stood there in silence, his gaze distant as he looked out over the city. You could sense the tension in the air, thick and suffocating.

“Why do you always do this?” you asked finally, your voice quiet and filled with frustration.

He looked at you, confusion etched on his face. “Do what?”

“This.” You gestured back toward the party. “Pretend like I’m not here. Like I don’t exist in your world.”

Lando sighed, running a hand through his hair, the weight of your words hitting him hard. “It’s not that simple. You know what it’s like with the media. One photo, one headline, and they’ll tear you apart.”

You swallowed, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill. “Do you know how hard it is for me? Watching you laugh, talk, be yourself around everyone else, and then pretend like I’m a stranger? It hurts, Lando. I don’t want to be your secret anymore.”

He reached out, his hand grazing yours. But you pulled away, too hurt to ignore.

“I’m just trying to protect you,” he said, desperation lacing his words.

“Protect me from what?” you demanded, your voice cracking. “From being a part of your life? From being seen with you? I can’t keep hiding, Lando. I don’t want to be an option anymore.”

For a moment, he didn’t respond, his silence louder than any words he could have spoken. You searched his face for understanding, but the pain in his eyes reflected back the struggle in him. Finally, he whispered, “I don’t want to lose you.”

The hurt and frustration boiled over. “Maybe you already have,” you said, and without another word, you turned and walked back inside, leaving him alone in the quiet night.

The weeks that followed were filled with desperation. Lando tried reaching out, but each call felt empty, a reminder of the life he was still keeping you out of. You missed him, missed the easy laughter and the late-night conversations, but you knew you couldn’t keep living like this, always on the sidelines, always hidden.

You focused on your own life, immersing yourself in work and friends, but the ache of his absence was always there. Each time your phone rang, hope fluttered in your chest, only to be crushed when it was just another group message or a call from a colleague. Your heart grew heavy, and the conversations with your friends felt empty in comparison to your feelings for Lando.

One night, he showed up unexpectedly at your apartment. You hadn’t seen him in person since that night in Barcelona, and the sight of him standing there, vulnerable and apologetic, almost broke you. The way he stood with his hands shoved deep in his pockets, his hair tousled, and his eyes shadowed made your heartache.

“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking,” he said, stepping inside and closing the door behind him, his voice low and serious. The warmth of his presence enveloped you, but the tension crackled in the air between you.

“About what?” you asked, your voice trembling as you tried to maintain your composure.

“About us,” he replied, his eyes locking onto yours with a fierce intensity. “And everything that happened. I know I messed up.”

You swallowed hard, your heart racing with anticipation. “What do you mean?”

He hesitated, glancing down as if gathering his thoughts. “I’ve been selfish. Afraid. But I don’t want to keep hiding.”

You looked at him, hope flickering in your chest. “So what does that mean?” you asked, longing for clarity.

“It means… I want to try. I want to let you into my world, no matter what it takes.” His words hung in the air, heavy with promise and possibility.

And for a brief moment, you believed him, feeling a mix of hope and fear, the thrill of what could be mingling with the uncertainty of what lay ahead.

Reality hit hard as the days turned into weeks. Despite his promises, Lando kept you in the background, just as before. You attended races, blending into the crowd, hurting as you watched him share his world with everyone but you. Each laugh he shared, each photo he took, felt like another nail in the coffin of your relationship. The distance grew, and every interaction turned to moments of joy overshadowed by a sense of despair.

The bright lights of the racetrack felt like a stage set for everyone but you, and the applause that echoed through the stands was a reminder of your place in his life: always out of reach. Each time Lando reached out, his messages filled with enthusiasm about his races and triumphs. A dull ache settled in your chest as you realized the happiness he experienced was increasingly separate from you.

Finally, it all came to an end one night. You stood in front of Lando, your heart racing, feeling the weight of the words you were about to say. The dim light of his apartment cast shadows on his face, highlighting the deep lines of worry etched on his brow.

“This isn’t what I signed up for,” you said, your voice trembling as anger and heartbreak collided within you. “I thought you wanted to change things. I thought you wanted me in your life, not just in the shadows.”

Lando’s eyes widened, pain on his face as he took a step closer. “You know I do! I’m trying! But you don’t understand the pressure, the stakes…”

“Don’t pretend like you’re the only one who’s under pressure!” you said, tears streaming down your cheeks. “I’m here too! I’m the one who’s been waiting, hiding, and feeling like a ghost in your life. I can’t do it anymore, Lando.”

He stepped closer, desperation flooding his eyes. “Please, just give me time. I need to figure this out.”

You shook your head, the pain overwhelming you. “Time? I’ve given you enough time. I don’t want to be an option anymore. I deserve to be more than a secret.”

The silence that followed felt like an abyss stretching between you. The walls felt like they were closing in, and the air grew with tension. Finally, you whispered, “I can’t keep doing this.”

And just like that, the fragile thread connecting you snapped, unravelling everything you’d built together. You turned away, your heart breaking with every step as you walked out of his life, leaving him standing in the dark.

As the door closed behind you, reality hit Lando like a freight train, the consequences of his actions crashing down on him. He stood in the silence of his apartment, a void where your laughter used to fill the air, the reality of what he had lost settling heavily in his chest. He had pushed you away, convinced that keeping you hidden would protect you, but now he realized that it had only created a gap between you, a wound that might never heal.

A YEAR LATER

The café was buzzing with life, sunlight streaming through the large windows and illuminating the vibrant chatter of patrons. Lando strolled in, his mind still preoccupied with the endless cycle of races and media obligations and some days, he’d feel the pain of your absence. Today was one of those days.

As he waited in line for his coffee, Lando couldn’t shake the feeling of being adrift. The laughter of fans, the chatter of friends celebrating victories; it all felt distant like he was watching life unfold through a pane of glass. With each passing day, the absence of your smile haunted him more than the pressures of the racing world ever could. He longed for the moments you had shared, the laughter, the connection, but it was too late now.

His thoughts were interrupted by a wave of chatter and laughter from the corner table. He turned, and his heart dropped. There you were, sitting across from someone else, a man who was leaning in closer than Lando had ever dared. You looked radiant, laughter spilling from your lips, and for a moment, time stood still.

A mix of emotions surged through him: jealousy, regret, and longing. He felt a pang of envy at the sight of your joy and sat with the realization that he had lost you to someone else. He should have fought harder, should have tried to mend the rift he had created, but now here you were, moving on without him.

As you glanced up, your eyes met his, and for a brief moment, the world fell away. Surprise flickered in your gaze, quickly replaced by a look of uncertainty. Lando’s heart raced as he willed himself to smile, but it felt forced, a mask to hide the storm of emotions brewing inside him. He stood frozen, trapped between wanting to reach out and the fear of what it would mean if he did.

The man you were with leaned closer, whispering something that made you laugh again, and it was like a knife twisting in Lando’s chest. The sound was beautiful, but it stung like salt on a wound. He turned back to the counter, pretending to check his phone, but his heart was racing, battling the urge to pull you into his arms and tell you how sorry he was.

But as he turned away, he could feel your gaze on him. He wanted to shout your name, to break the silence that loomed like a thick fog, but fear held him back. He was afraid of disrupting your happiness, afraid of hearing you say what he already feared: that you were happier without him.

Just as he was about to step outside, the barista called his name. He grabbed his coffee, forcing a smile as he turned back toward the door, but his heart was pounding in his chest. That’s when you stood up, your laughter fading as you walked toward him, the man you were with still seated, oblivious to the tension in the air.

“Lando?” you said, your voice filled with uncertainty. He caught a glimpse of your eyes, a mix of emotions swirling within them, mirroring how he felt.

“Hey,” he replied. He could feel the heat radiating off you, the familiarity bringing up thousands of memories.

“Nice to see you,” you said, trying to maintain a casual tone, but Lando could sense the tension lingering in the space between you. He glanced over your shoulder, catching the curious gaze of your date, and the sight sent another wave of jealousy over him.

“Yeah, you too,” he managed, forcing his gaze to meet yours. Your eyes held a million unspoken words, and he felt the weight of them pressing down on him. “How have you been?” he asked, desperate to keep the conversation alive.

“I’ve been… good. Just busy with work and stuff,” you replied, your voice faltering slightly. “And you? Racing still?”

“Yeah, always,” he said, a bitter taste filling his mouth at the thought. “Winning, losing, you know how it is.”

You nodded. “I saw you won the last race,” you said, a forced smile tugging at your lips. “Congratulations.”

“Thanks,” he said, his heart aching. “But it’s not the same without you there.” The words slipped out before he could stop them, raw and unfiltered.

Your expression faltered, a flicker of pain crossing your face. “Lando…”

Just then, the man from the table called out to you, breaking the conversation. “Everything okay?” His voice was casual, but Lando could hear the possessiveness beneath.

“Yeah, just… catching up with an old friend,” you replied, you shifted your gaze back towards Lando. The man’s expression darkened, a flicker of jealousy passing across his face, but you seemed unaware of it.

“Maybe we should go?” the man suggested, and Lando’s heart sank at the thought of you leaving with him.

“Yeah, I—” you started, but Lando couldn’t let you walk away again.

“Wait,” he interjected, desperation creeping into his voice. “Can we talk? Just for a minute?”

You hesitated, conflicted. “I don’t know, Lando. It’s complicated…”

“Please,” he pressed, the urgency in his voice growing. “Just… for a minute.”

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you nodded, glancing back at your date, who frowned but didn’t object. “Just a minute,” you said, stepping aside, and Lando’s heart soared at the small victory.

The two of you found a quieter corner of the café, where the sound of chatter faded into the background. Lando leaned against the wall, his eyes locked onto yours, seeking even a small part of the connection that you once shared.

“Look, I know things ended badly between us,” he started, his voice steady despite feeling the opposite. “I messed up, and I’m sorry for pushing you away. I thought I was protecting you, but all I did was hurt you.”

You looked down, the weight of his words heavy in the air. “You really think it was that easy for me?” you asked, your voice laced with hurt. “You think I just moved on? It’s not like that, Lando. I’ve been trying to pick up the pieces since you shut me out.”

“I didn’t mean to—” he began, but you cut him off, the pain in your eyes cutting deeper than he anticipated.

“Didn’t mean to what? To hurt me? To leave me hanging?” Your voice trembled, and he could see the anger mixed with sorrow in your expression. “I thought we had something real, Lando. But when you walked away, you broke everything. I was left to figure it all out alone.”

“I know,” he said, desperation rising in his chest. “And I regret it every day. I thought pushing you away would protect you from the chaos of my life, but it only drove you further away. I’ve been miserable without you. I don’t— I can’t want to lose you for good.”

Your eyes softened momentarily, but the resolve in them remained. “But you already did,” you said softly. “I’m here with someone else now, Lando. I can’t just pretend that you didn’t hurt me, that I didn’t feel like I meant nothing to you.”

He felt the truth of your words like a punch to the gut, the reality crashing over him. “You mean everything to me,” he insisted, his voice breaking. “You’re the only one who ever really understood me. Without you, I feel lost.”

Your expression faltered, the conflict raging within you. “And what do you expect me to do? Just drop everything and go back to the way it was? It’s not that simple, Lando. I’m trying to move on.”

“I don’t want you to move on without me,” he said. “I want to fix this, to make it right. If you give me a chance, I promise I’ll do better this time. I’ll fight for you.”

The moment hung heavy in the air, your eyes searching his for sincerity. “But what if you’re just saying that because you’re afraid of being alone?”

“I’m saying it because I can’t imagine my life without you in it,” he replied, vulnerability spilling from his lips. “I’ve been racing for titles, for victory, but nothing feels right without you by my side. I need you, and I’m willing to do whatever it takes to prove that to you.”

You took a step back, your expression unreadable. “I don’t know if I can trust you again, Lando. It hurts too much to think about going through that pain again.”

“Trust takes time,” he said, his voice gentle. “But I promise I’ll be here till you come around.”

Just then, the man from the table approached, a look of concern on his face. “Everything all right?” he asked, his tone slightly defensive.

You glanced at him, and Lando felt the tightness in his chest return. He didn’t want to fight for you with another man standing there, but he couldn’t let you walk away again.

“I need to go,” you said, your voice tinged with uncertainty.

“Wait, just—” Lando started, but you shook your head, the finality in your eyes piercing through him.

“I have to figure things out, Lando. I can’t just jump back into something that broke me.”

With that, you turned and walked away, leaving Lando standing in the café, your footsteps fading into the distance.

Lando knew he had lost you, perhaps for good. As the world continued to spin, he was left with the realization that sometimes love wasn’t enough to mend the fractures life had carved into the heart. He knew he might never have the chance to tell you how much you truly meant to him.

‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎ MAIN MASTERLIST ✷ LN4 MASTERLIST

[forsoobado137]

🍨dolly_as_prez Follow

🍨dolly_as_prez Follow

It's been five years since I made this meme and nothing has changed lol

156,932 notes

🧻Dorpblorpw93 Follow

Watching Alfred's short films on youtube are always fucking hilarious because I never know if he's being ironic or not. They all look like they were written produced by an over-caffeinated film student but if they had an actual budget. Like they are legit the funniest pieces of media out there and I have no idea if the comedy is intentional or not.

🏞fromthevalley89 Follow

Where do I begin here? The fact that he basically plays everyone? The fact that he included Arthur but didn't let him play as himself and cast him as bad guys? The fact that he was able to get Roderich and Francois on board with this? The fact that he doesn't even name himself and just puts ME? The fact that the end credits are three times longer than the movie? AND HE LITERALLY CAST HIMSELF AS GOD?! This is peak cinema.

🧭justintime12oclock Follow

Also what is up with Tony? Did Alfred just rotoscope his roommate and make him an alien? is it CGI (Really badly done)?

47,459 notes

🌌galaxylesbian Follow

AGAIN?!

🐝beemybestie Follow

Translation: wahhh wahhh my president won't give me money for Louis Vuitton and my seventh mansion so I'm gonna sit on my ass while the stocks plummet and the trains malfunction 🥺

🌟bugdrinkbugrink Follow

Actual translation: I've literally fought in dozens of wars and bent over backwards for this government and all I get in return is a minimum wage paycheck, demeaning insults from my own politicians, and disrespect from tourists that I'm forced to put up with. I deserve better, and by not working, I'm going to demonstrate how fucked you all would be without me. I hope this opens people's eyes to the lack of rights me and my fellow nations have, and that it will force governments everywhere to actually give a shit.

🌷Azaleyaaaaah02 Follow

Also that mansion thing is such bullshit. The reason nations have so many houses is because they have been ALIVE FOR CENTURIES and they can't just stay in one place forever. Also they have had more than enough time to buy houses when they were cheap and pay off multiple properties. Nations aren't just secretly a bunch of out of touch millionaires. They have been homeless, in debt, and have lived in far worse conditions than you could ever imagine.

🌟bugdrinkbugrink Follow

For everyone trying to call nations "selfish" for going on strike because it has negative effects on their countries, that is literally THE ENTIRE POINT OF STRIKES. World leaders think that all nations do is look pretty and die over and over in petty wars. In the THREE DAYS that France (and other European countries) went on strike back in 1976, the stock market plummeted, trade slowed, transportation stopped working, and other citizens stopped going to work. The leaders realized pretty quickly that they fucked up. After they got better wages, the nations returned, and everything was up and running again.

Moral of the story: PAY YOUR NPS A LIVING WAGE! These people have literally sacrificed everything for their nations. So what if France wants to be able to afford iconic French fashion brands? If I was an immortal being who died thousands of times in mankind's worst wars, you better BELIEVE I would demand that I can afford to treat myself.

41,246 notes

[sophistication-as]

classmate!william x reader

modern au 💌 genius x genius

1.9k – fluff, masturbation (m!), pda, soft kisses

@cafekitsune thank you for the divider

happy new year, everyone! thanks for all the support. don’t forget to stay safe and drink plenty of water 💗

classmate!william who always saves a seat for you in the auditorium. he tilts his head slightly, a soft smile playing on his lips as he whispers that he likes being close to someone so dedicated, his voice quieter than the murmur of students around you. he’s never been much of a talker in class, but somehow, with you, silence feels comfortable.

classmate!william who loves your eloquence when you discuss different subjects, his gaze lingering a little too long on the curve of your lips as you speak. even if your words weren’t the only thing he paid attention to, he’d always nod along, offering thoughtful responses just to keep the conversation going.

classmate!william who notices your habit of slipping away for a quiet moment with a cup of coffee. he surprises you one afternoon, setting a steaming cup beside your notebook without a word. “black, no sugar,” he murmurs, his tone as casual as if you hadn’t just realized he’s been paying attention to your preferences all along.

classmate!william who finds you asleep in the library, your head resting on a pile of notes. instead of waking you, he gently places his coat over your shoulders and sits across from you, quietly reading until you wake.

classmate!william who tries to make sense of the unfamiliar warmth that stirs in his chest every time your hand brushes his when passing notes in class. he tells himself it’s nothing, just a momentary distraction, but the thought lingers longer than it should, gnawing at his carefully crafted focus.

classmate!william who clenches his jaw when albert teases him about the way his expression softens around you. he brushes it off, claiming it’s just admiration for your intellect, but deep down, he’s terrified of what it might mean to want something so far outside his carefully built world.

classmate!william who wakes up with his body aching, his breath uneven as fragments of a dream about you flood his mind. his hand is already wrapped around his cock, the slick evidence of his arousal staining the sheets as he strokes himself slowly, trying to chase the ghost of your touch from his dream. his hips jerk involuntarily as your imagined whispers echo in his ears, the way your lips parted just for him, the way you said his name, dripping with need.

he spills himself messily, his cum pooling over his abdomen and staining the blankets beneath him. shame crashes over him almost immediately, and his hand falters as he stares at the mess he’s made. william exhales harshly, his chest rising and falling, his usually calm demeanor completely unraveled. he’s disgusted with himself, not just for the act, but for the fact that it felt so good to think of you like that—too good.

the next morning, he’s brooding more than usual, his jaw clenched as louis and albert exchange amused glances. "someone didn’t sleep well," albert comments with a smirk, and louis adds innocently, "you seem... distracted, william. something on your mind?" he glares at them both, his ears burning as their teasing continues. but it doesn’t stop there. when he sees you later in class, your innocent smile only stokes the lingering fire in his chest. he forces himself to look away, biting back the memory of his dream and the shameful pleasure he took from it. for once, william james moriarty finds himself losing control—and it terrifies him.

classmate!william who, one evening, when he sees you sitting by yourself in the library again, can’t help but walk over. your concentration is so intense that you don’t even notice him approaching. “mind if i join you?” he asks, his voice surprisingly steady despite the flutter in his chest. you look up, meeting his gaze, and something in his chest tightens at the way your eyes light up with recognition.

you nod, and he sits beside you, just close enough to feel the warmth of your presence without crossing that invisible line he’s so careful to maintain. the silence between you both isn’t awkward—far from it. it’s a comfortable quiet, filled with the rustling of pages and the occasional glance exchanged.

classmate!william who glances at you from the corner of his eye, noticing how the soft glow of the streetlights catches your hair, casting it in a warm, golden hue. there’s a small, content smile on your lips, a look that seems to say you’re at ease in this quiet company. his heart beats a little faster, and before he can stop himself, his hand reaches out, brushing against yours.

classmate!william who, after weeks of stolen glances and quiet conversations, finds himself walking beside you on a crisp evening, the cool air brushing past the two of you. the path to the dorms is empty, save for the soft rustling of leaves in the trees and the occasional murmur of distant voices from the campus. it's a moment suspended in time, just the two of you, and for the first time, the silence feels heavy with something unspoken.

you look up at him, eyes widening just slightly, and for a moment, the world slows down around you both. his breath catches as he realizes how close the two of you are, the touch lingering longer than usual. he’s always been good at hiding his feelings, but in that small, stolen moment, he’s not so sure anymore. he can feel the warmth of your skin against his, and the space between you feels impossibly small.

classmate!william who clears his throat softly, as though trying to dispel the sudden tension. “i… i didn’t mean to…” he starts, but his words die in his throat as your eyes meet his, soft and searching. you both stand there for a beat too long, as if neither of you knows exactly what to do.

then, almost instinctively, you step closer, closing the small distance between you both. his heart races as you look up at him, your gaze softening. and just like that, it feels like everything falls into place.

you’re not sure who leans in first, but the next thing you know, his lips are brushing against yours, tentative and gentle, like he’s testing the waters.

classmate!william who feels the warmth of your kiss seep through him, a surge of emotions he hasn’t quite figured out flooding his chest. it’s slow and careful at first, a quiet exploration of something neither of you has dared to voice out loud. but when you pull back, just a little, you both meet each other's eyes, and for the first time, the distance between you both feels so, so small.

he smiles faintly, a soft, genuine smile that reaches his eyes, and you can feel the gentle pull of something more than just affection—something deeper, something that’s been building for a while. “i… i didn’t expect that,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper, but there’s a warmth in it, in the way his gaze lingers on you.

you simply smile back, feeling the butterflies settle in your stomach as you say, “neither did i.”

and for a moment, you both stand there, the world around you quiet, as the promise of something new lingers in the air between you.

classmate!william who hesitates when he sees you sitting alone on the metro, headphones in, your focus entirely on the view outside. it’s late, the lights of the city flashing by in a blur, and the car is almost empty except for a few quiet passengers. he shifts on his feet for a moment before finally walking over and taking the seat next to you.

“long day?” he asks softly, his voice low enough to not startle you. you glance up, surprised, and pull out one earbud, a small smile tugging at your lips when you see him.

“you could say that,” you reply, your voice tired but warm.

classmate!william who keeps stealing glances at you as the metro glides along its tracks, the soft hum of the engine filling the silence between your conversation. he notices the faint shadow of fatigue in your eyes, the way you rub at your temple absentmindedly. before he realizes it, he’s asking, “have you eaten?”

your head tilts at his sudden question, a small laugh escaping your lips. “no, not yet.”

he hums thoughtfully, pulling something from his bag—a neatly wrapped sandwich. “take it,” he says, holding it out. “it’s not much, but it’s better than nothing.”

you blink at him, surprised. “you didn’t have to—”

“just take it,” he interrupts, his tone firm but kind. there’s a faint blush on his cheeks as he looks away, pretending to focus on the advertisements flashing past the windows.

classmate!william who feels the subtle press of your arm against his as the train sways, the small, unintentional contact making his heart race in a way he doesn’t quite understand.

the metro comes to a brief stop, and more passengers file out, leaving the car nearly empty. the flickering overhead lights cast a dim glow, and for a moment, it feels like the rest of the world has melted away, leaving just the two of you.

classmate!william who catches your reflection in the window, the faint curve of a smile on your lips as you lean slightly closer to him. “thank you,” you murmur, breaking the silence.

he turns to you, his voice unusually soft. “for what?”

“for this,” you say, holding up the now half-eaten sandwich, “and for sitting with me.”

his gaze lingers on you, something tender and unfamiliar stirring in his chest. “it’s nothing,” he mutters, but the way his voice wavers slightly betrays him.

classmate!william who can’t stop himself when the train jerks slightly, his hand instinctively reaching out to steady you. his fingers brush against yours, and he feels the warmth of your skin—soft and real—and it makes his breath catch.

you glance down at your hands, then back up at him, your eyes meeting. the metro rocks gently, and the world seems to stand still as he leans in ever so slightly.

now it’s you who closes the gap, your lips brushing his in a soft, fleeting kiss that feels like a spark in the quiet hum of the train. it’s gentle, almost hesitant, but when you pull away, the look in his eyes is one of wonder.

classmate!william who stares at you for a moment, his hands coming to caress yours. his touch is deliberate, warm, and steady, a rare softness from someone so guarded. "name," he begins, his voice low but filled with conviction, "may i ask if you would like to have dinner with me?" he whispers, his golden gaze locked on yours, decided to show his feelings wholeheartedly for the first time.

you feel the heat rise to your cheeks, his question lingering in the air like a delicate melody. your heart flutters as you manage a shy smile, your hand still cradled in his. “yes, i would love to,” you reply softly, your voice tinged with quiet excitement.

classmate!william who feels a quiet sense of relief wash over him, though his heart still beats fast against his ribs. he doesn’t release your hand; instead, his thumb brushes over your knuckles gently, as though reassuring himself this moment is real. “then allow me to make it a night worth remembering,” he says, his tone confident but laced with a tenderness meant only for you.

you don’t miss the flicker of a smile that plays on his lips—a rare, genuine one that softens his usually composed demeanor. as he leads you out of the library, still holding your hand, you realize this is the start of something neither of you will ever forget.

[daisyblog]

Terrible Nines

Too Young Masterlist Summary: Arthur is going through a testing time and pregnant YN doesn’t know what to do.

Based on this request.

YN had noticed that Arthur’s behaviour had slowly been declining and his sharp tongue had been making a regular appearance. In the last few weeks, Arthur had pushed another child over in school, answered his teacher back and got sent off the football pitch in one of his games for telling the referee “you’re shit”.

In England it was the beginning of the school summer holidays, so Arthur had six weeks off school and YN was looking forward to flying out to meet Louis in Spain to enjoy a few weeks of joining him at the festivals.

The first week of the school break Doris and Ernest had come up to London with Louis’ grandparents to visit YN and Arthur. The three young Tomlinsons had always been close and due to being so close in age, were more like siblings than auntie/uncle and nephew. But YN had noticed during their visit that Arthur wasn’t his usual self.

Whilst a heavily pregnant YN sat outside in the garden with Jen and Len joining her around the table, the three children played together enjoying the sunshine before they had to leave to travel back to Doncaster.

As the grownups chatted about the two new additions that were about to join their family, after finding out Lottie was also pregnant, a sound of disagreements filled their ears.

“Arthur that’s not kind!”. Ernest stood with his hands on his hips and a frown covering his eyebrows.

Arthur shrugged his shoulders as he continued to kick the football around the grass. “I don’t care…go cry about it!”.

“Arthur!” YN shouted with disappointment as she heard her son being unkind to the twins. “Be kind please!”.

Without his eyes leaving the ball as his foot constantly kicked it. “He’s just being a cry baby!”.

Jen and Len shared a surprised look at the way Arthur was behaving, knowing he was usually a delightful little boy.

“Arthur Harry Tomlinson! You go back inside right now and have time to think about your behaviour please!”. YN instructed as she sat in her seat aware of others around them.

“Oh this is a joke…it’s shit man!”. Arthur kicked the ball in temper before running into the house.

“Stop swearing!”. YN scolded again. Shaking her head slightly knowing she needed to speak to Louis about the language he’s using around Arthur.

---

Anne had travelled up to London to stay with Gemma to look after her little one whilst she recorded her audio book. So of course Harry, YN and Arthur went to spend the day with Grandma Anne.

The afternoon at Gemma’s had gone smoothly so far. Arthur had been playing calmly with his little cousin, helping to feed her, offering to read her a story, and had even cuddled her to sleep. YN loved watching this side of Arthur, the loving and caring side.

Whilst the little one napped in her cot, Anne and YN were enjoying a chat and catch up over a cup of tea and Harry and Arthur were playing a board game.

Arthur and Harry had a lovely uncle/nephew relationship, and not once has he ever shouted or misbehaved for Harry so when that day came, they were all shocked.

“Uncle Harry? Can I sleep over your house tonight please?”. Arthur sweetly asked, knowing that the answer was usually yes because Harry couldn’t say no to his big blue eyes.

When Harry looked torn knowing the answer was no tonight due to him having to go to a studio session, Arthur sensed he was about to hear no from his uncle for the first time.

“Sorry little man but I have to meet Mitch and Kid tonight but I promise you can sleep over when you come back from seeing your Dad…yeah?”. Harry tried to break the news gently, already feeling so guilty for saying no.

Hearing the word no, felt like a hit to the stomach for Arthur who threw the dice from the board game with force. “Oh that’s not fair!”.

“Arthur? What’s wrong?”. YN asked from the sudden outburst and the sound of the dice hitting the flooring.

“Just shut up Mum!”. Arthur shouted as he stood up and crossed his arms over his chest in protest.

“Hey! Don’t speak to your Mum like that!”. Harry was surprised at Arthur’s tantrum but at the same time he wasn’t going to allow him to shout at YN like that.

“I just want my Dad!”.

---

Bedtime at the Tomlinson/Styles household was far from calm and relaxing. When YN asked Arthur to go and have a shower, he defied her and continued to play on his game and said “you can’t tell me what to do”.

After a big back and forth conversation and persuading Arthur to go and have a shower, he finally did it. But the behaviour hadn’t ended there. When it came to Arthur going to bed, he continued to switch on the light and try to play his game again, to which YN had to walk up and down the stairs countless times, which at 33 weeks pregnant was not ideal.

Sitting down later in that evening, the emotions caught up with YN. The Mum guilt she felt was overwhelming, she blamed herself for Arthur’s behaviour at the moment. She was worried there was more to his behaviour than she realised because it was a form of communication.

Knowing what she had to do, she reached for her phone and tapped a few times before she reached the name she was searching for. 

After a few rings, the voice she had been waiting to hear answered. “Hey babe! Everything okay?”. 

“Hi Lou…not really…Arthur’s behaviour has been terrible lately”. YN could feel the tears start again.

“How bad are we talking?”. Louis’ voice was full of concern, knowing YN was heavily pregnant and didn’t need the extra stress.

“Bad Lou…he’s shouting, swearing, answering everyone back…he was even cheeky to Harry the other day”. YN tried to explain without going into too much detail. “I think he’s missing you Lou!”.

“I feel so guilty that work is so busy at the moment���I feel like I’m letting you both down”. The pain was clear in his voice.

YN rubbed her hand mindlessly over her growing bump, feeling their little baby moving around as she spoke. “It’s not your fault Lou…you’re just doing what every other parent is doing and working to provide for your family….its just your job is not a nine to five”.

“Right leave it with me and I’m going to sort something”. Louis spoke quickly. “I’ll phone you in a bit…I love you three with all my heart!”.

“We love you more!”.

---

YN hadn’t heard from Louis since their phonecall the night before, but she knew he was busy so didn’t think much of it.

It had been a calm morning with just YN and Arthur enjoying so breakfast together, before they got dressed and headed out for a quiet walk together around the park.

When they arrived back home after their walk, they were both laughing together as they walked through the front door, which was something YN really needed lately. But what stopped the two in their steps was Louis standing in the hallway, a large cheeky grin covering his face.

“Dad!”. Arthur’s feet ran across the floor before he jumped into his father’s arms. “You’re home!”.

“Oh I’ve missed you lad!”. Louis squeezed Arthur close to him, not wanting the hug to end. “I’ve missed you so much”.

“How? Wait! How are you home?”. YN couldn’t believe what she was seeing. She wasn’t expecting to see Louis until they flew out to Spain in a few days.

“My family needs me”: Louis shrugged his shoulders as if it was obvious. “So I’ve come to get my three favourite people and take them back to Spain with me”.

“This is why I love you!”. YN quickly joined them in a much needed family cuddle.

---

With the pregnancy tiredness taking over YN, Louis decided to use this moment to have a much needed conversation with Arthur.

“Hey little lad”. Louis joined Arthur on the sofa, his arm leaving across the back of it. “I’ve heard you haven’t been yourself when I’ve been away”.

Arthur didn’t move his eyes away from the tv or say a word, knowing this conversation was about to happen. When Louis realised his son wasn’t going to say anything yet, he continued.

“I’m thinking something is bothering you and when you’re ready to talk about it…me and Mum are here okay?”. Louis had always been logical when it came to these types of situations, he had been an older brother so he was used to it.

“Mason in school said that when Mum has the baby that nobody would want me anymore”. Arthur words hurt Louis deeply and he was glad that YN hadn’t been awake to hear them.

“Arthur…I can promise you that…that would never happen”. He began to reassure the younger boy. “We would always want you, always love you and if anything we would love you more if we could because we’re about to see you become the best big brother and I can’t wait”.

“I’m really sorry for not being kind or good lately”. Arthur wore a guilty expression as he glanced up at his father.

“I know you are lad…do me a favour when your Mum wakes up…give her a big cuddle because she really needs it right now”.

Arthur nodded, a small smile began to show on his lips. “She really is the best Mum…you’re the best Dad too…me and the baby are so lucky!”,

“We’re the lucky ones!”.

Taglist :@jillsvalentinex @itsmytimetoodream @peterholland04 @youcan-nolonger-run @chronicallybubbly @macy-tpwk @wh0s-nadii

[iamgonnagetyouback]

𝟷.𝟼𝚔 || 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔 (PART 4)

♡ ︎ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: The constant tours, postponed dates, and then Sirius again leaving for a tour makes you realize you couldn't do it.

♡ ︎ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: Angst, Anxious reader, Happy ending

♡ ︎ꜱʜɪᴘ: rockstar!Sirius Black x reader

♡ ꜱᴏɴɢ: Miss you by Louis Tomlinson

♡ ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ : part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

The award show was buzzing with energy, a sea of flashing lights, glitzy outfits, and the murmur of hundreds of voices blending into a chaotic symphony. You stood at the edge of the red carpet, your fingers nervously smoothing down the fabric of your long dress. It had been months since you’d last stepped into a scene like this. The familiar anxiety twisted in your stomach, but you forced a smile, nodding at the camera crews setting up ahead.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, and that’s when you heard it—the unmistakable sound of photographers shouting a name that made your heart clench.

“Sirius! Over here! Boys, look this way!”

You glanced up and saw them. Sirius, James, Remus, and Peter, all standing just ahead of you, caught in a storm of flashing cameras. They were smiling, laughing, and posing for the photographers, looking every bit the rock stars they had become. Sirius, with his tousled hair and leather jacket, looked effortlessly cool as always. The sight of him still made something flutter in your chest, no matter how much time had passed.

As you stepped forward, you heard someone call your name. “Y/N! Over here!” The photographers’ attention shifted to you, and suddenly, all four of the boys turned in your direction. You felt their eyes on you, but it was Sirius’s gaze that lingered the longest.

Your heart skipped a beat as you nervously adjusted your dress. You could feel his eyes on you, burning through the crowd of people, even as the photographers called for them to turn back to the cameras. James, Remus, and Peter hesitantly shifted their focus back, flashing smiles, but Sirius… he didn’t. He kept looking at you, his expression unreadable but intense. You knew he remembered how anxious you always got at award shows. Back then, he was always by your side, his presence grounding you. But now, he wasn’t.

You swallowed hard, the weight of his gaze pressing into you as your turn approached.

The boys’ photoshoot finished, and they moved aside to make room for you. As you stepped forward, James was the first to greet you, leaning in to plant a soft kiss on your cheek. “Looking stunning as always,” he whispered with a grin.

“Y/N,” Remus added, following suit with a kiss on your cheek as well. “Good to see you.”

Peter gave you a bright smile and a hug, “Congrats on the nomination!”

Your heart warmed at their familiar faces, but your nerves were still on edge. Sirius stood by, his lips pressed into a thin line as he gave you a nod. You returned the gesture, the tension between you palpable but unspoken.

You turned to face the flashing cameras, feeling the anxious knot tightening in your chest. The photographers shouted instructions, and as you forced yourself to smile, you suddenly felt James’s hand gently rub your back in reassurance.

You glanced over at him, grateful for the comfort, and managed to give the cameras a genuine smile.

“Come on, Sirius, join them!” one of the photographers called out. You tensed at the suggestion, your body stiffening slightly. For a moment, it felt like time slowed as you sensed Sirius hesitate before stepping closer to the group.

He stood beside you, his presence heavy in the space between you. You could feel the heat of him, the familiar scent of leather and cologne invading your senses. You forced yourself to smile at the camera, trying to ignore the way your pulse quickened with him so close.

After a few more photos, the boys took their leave, and you stayed behind for your solo shots. The photographers called your name again, and you posed, trying your best to seem composed. But your mind was somewhere else—still lingering on Sirius, still replaying the moment he stood beside you.

The ceremony was in full swing when there was finally a break. You had just won Best Artist for your latest song, the one you had poured your heart into after everything—after finding your way back to yourself. As you made your way backstage, you spotted the boys celebrating. They had won Best Boyband, and the excitement radiating from them was infectious.

You approached them, your nerves forgotten for a moment as you smiled. “Congratulations, guys!”

James grinned widely, “Look who it is, our very own Best Artist!”

Remus pulled you into a hug, “Congrats to you too, Y/N. That song is brilliant.”

Peter gave you a thumbs up. “Absolutely killer track!”

As you exchanged congratulations with the boys, you didn’t notice Sirius subtly fixing his hair as he saw you walking over. But you did notice the way his eyes lingered on you when you finally turned to him.

Before you could say anything, one of their friends came over, pulling James and Remus into a conversation. That left you and Sirius standing awkwardly next to each other, the weight of everything between you suddenly so heavy in the air.

Sirius was the first to break the silence. “So… how are you?” His voice was soft, hesitant.

You gave him a tight smile. “Peachy, you know… these award ceremonies kinda freak me out.”

He nodded, his gaze softening. “I know.”

The silence between you stretched out for a moment, both of you unsure what to say. Until, at the exact same time, the words slipped from your mouths.

“I miss you.”

You both froze, eyes locking in surprise, and then, despite everything, you both laughed. It was soft and a little bittersweet, but it was real.

“Do you want to get out of here?” he asked, his voice low, the familiarity of it tugging at something deep inside you.

You nodded, and together, you slipped away from the bustling crowd, finding a quiet corner where the noise of the award show faded into the background.

You sat together in comfortable silence for a while, neither of you knowing how to start, until Sirius broke the tension again. “I heard your song, the one you won for. It’s… it’s amazing, Y/N. I mean it.”

You smiled softly. “Thanks. I wasn’t sure I could pull it off, but… I guess I had a lot to say.”

“I can tell,” he said, his eyes scanning your face. “You’ve always been brilliant.”

The compliment warmed you, and you felt a little braver. “I’ve seen you, you know. You’re everywhere. Viral. It’s incredible what you guys have done.”

Sirius shrugged, though you could see the pride flickering in his eyes. “Yeah, I guess we’re doing alright.”

The conversation flowed easily after that, the weight of the past few months falling away as you talked about everything—about the music, about the madness of it all, about how different things felt now.

And then, before you could stop yourself, you leaned forward, your lips brushing against his in a soft, tentative kiss. It wasn’t planned. It wasn’t something you had thought about. It just happened. And when Sirius kissed you back, it felt like slipping into something familiar, something that had always been there between the two of you.

When you finally pulled away, you both smiled at each other, a little breathless but lighter than you had felt in months.

Maybe this wasn’t the end of your story after all.

[lizardkingeliot]

Congrats on your freedom from the mess!

I'm having a craving to read a scene where Louis is defending Lestat to someone. I'm not particular about the context but I hope that we'll get some "that's my husband and only I can talk shit about him" energy from Louis in the show too. But I'd settle for a few hundred words from you! ❤️

Okay. So. When I started writing this I challenged myself to keep it under 500 words and... lmao. Well. It ended up being almost 1500. Because of course. But ANYWAY I hope you're here for some Rockstar Lestat and Photographer Louis because that's what this ended up being. The urge to turn this into a longer fic is STRONG but I'm resisting for now. After I finish my current wip I might come back to it and fill it out and pop it up on AO3. IDK... we'll see lol.

Anyway I'm sticking most of this under a cut. Thank you for this lovely prompt and I hope you enjoy it!

—

Louis emerged from the dressing room first. Leaned against the wall outside the door and started fiddling with his camera. Checking over the pictures he’d taken just moments ago. Lestat—a ring of vanity lights like a halo around the mirror behind him. Lestat—purple leather pants, lime green crop top, the word Slut scrawled in sparkly cursive on the chest. Lestat—golden hair gleaming in the artificial light. Eyes on the camera, on Louis where he stood a safe distance away beyond the lens. Pink mouth slightly parted just so, just so…

Lestat walked out not a minute after Louis and was instantly surrounded by a horde of people. His tour manager, his agent, Daniel Molloy, a handful of nondescript faces attached to bodies Louis didn’t know. Lestat scowled and waved them all away from him at once, muttering his annoyance under his breath in French.

Lestat’s whole body swayed as he walked. Pants sitting low on his hips. Hips like weapons, swell of his ass like a homing beacon. And Louis almost forced himself to look away when Lestat stopped, and turned back. And met Louis’ gaze across the distance. His eyes lined in smudgy black lighting up in exactly the way they’d been when Louis viewed him through the lens of his camera moments ago. Mouth quirking up in a secret smile meant for Louis and Louis alone.

Louis smiled back, couldn’t help it. Stomach doing some truly impressive acrobatics when Lestat turned away and disappeared in the direction of the stage. He was grateful for the wall for reminding his body to stay upright. He forced a breath, was just about to turn his eyes back to his camera when the muffled conversation two roadies were having over by the loading bay invaded his senses.

“Did you see what he’s wearing now?” Roadie Number One asked with a self-satisfied little laugh. The sound of it was instantly grating. It was such a pompously human sound. “For fuck’s sake, man.”

“Like I said before,” Roadie Number Two offered in a casual, gravelly tone. One hand on a flight case, the other fiddling with the cigarette he had tucked behind his ear. “The whole fruit basket, that one. Talk about shoving it in your face.”

Louis tipped his head to one side. Watched them both with big unblinking eyes as they started moving down the hall in the direction of the stage. His pulse beating slow and steady inside him. Moving the blood through his veins at a calculating, almost predatory pace.

—

After the show, backstage was the usual chaos. A sea of people and their sounds. Lestat’s team, his band, his groupies. Equipment being rushed back out the way it had come in. And though Louis had been standing just off stage and watched with his own two eyes as Lestat made his exit following his second encore. Had snapped one final picture in the split second before Lestat passed by and their hands—very intentionally, on Lestat’s part at least—brushed together. Suddenly, Lestat was nowhere to be found.

Louis screwed the lens from his camera, tucked everything away in his case and slung the strap over his shoulder. The moment he lifted his head, he saw them. Roadie One and Roadie Two. And hunger grumbled deep inside him. And it dawned on Louis all at once that he’d been so busy tonight he hadn’t actually fed.

He could have just let it go. He should have. Human beings—what did they matter? But Lestat wasn’t around and the thought that he was off with some groupie getting his dick wet pissed him off just enough for the hunger to spur him forward. He moved without even thinking to, and in a blink he was standing in front of Roadie Number Two. Crowding him against the flight case he’d been hauling. So close their noses nearly touched.

“Hello,” Louis said. Roadie Two’s eyes went wide as two big moons. “I have a question for you—”

“Hey, man, what the f—”

Louis choked off the man’s voice with a thought at once. Vampiric power working like a hand around his throat.

“Don’t be rude when your elders are speaking.” Louis took a single calculated step back. Roadie Two was trembling in his black jeans. Louis didn’t even have to hold him in place. Frozen with terror, the man couldn’t move. And Louis grinned. “Now—my question. And I do think you of all people can help me with this one.”

Louis listened to the tangle of thoughts in his head. A litany of curses. An endless slew of fear and dark and what the fuck what the fuck. People were rushing all around them. Louis thought, distantly—maybe—that Daniel was saying his name.

“Do you happen to know where I might find a fruit basket in this city?”

Louis laughed, a dark and wobbling sound. The hunger had him by the belly. He had to fight against his fangs to keep them from popping out.

There were tears in Roadie Two’s wide moon eyes that didn’t blink. He found the strength to reach up with one hand and paw uselessly at his own throat. Thick rasping sounds falling out of it as he fought against the Dark Gift’s suppression of his breath.

Louis laughed again.

“Yeah,” Louis said, and tipped his head to one side. And watched the artery throb with blood on the side of the roadie’s thick neck. “That’s what I thought. Not so easy to get those smartass words of yours out now, is it? You know, next time maybe you should try sayin’ that shit to—”

“Louis.”

Lestat. Behind him. Heartbeat like a siren. Warm, gushing sound of life like a song inside his veins. Louis’ mind stumbled over itself for a fraction of a second and he lost his hold on Roadie Two’s throat. And the man crumbled down to his knees in a coughing fit in an instant.

“Louis,” Lestat said again. And Louis spun around. And—

Smudged eyeliner. Pink mouth. Golden hair skimming bare shoulders. At some point between the stage and right then, Lestat had lost his shirt.

“Lestat.” Louis straightened his neck, gripped the strap of his camera case just to have something to hold onto. His heart was beating wildly in his chest and he knew Lestat could hear it. “Hey, uh, so—”

“Cheri, I know you’re hungry, but I believe it would be ill-advised to eat the roadies.”

Louis drew a breath, huffed it out, distantly aware that Roadie Two was half-crawling, half-running away behind him. “Wasn’t gonna eat him. Just—” He huffed another breath. “And please don’t call me—”

“You were sticking up for me.”

Smudged eyeliner. Blue eyes shining in those messy rings of black. Louis’ heartbeat was a kick pedal drum inside his chest.

“Just didn’t care for his tone, is all.” Louis tried for casual, but the words came out all wrong. Like suddenly he was the one being choked. “He said—”

“I know what he said, cheri.” One corner of Lestat’s mouth twitched, amused and annoyed all at once. “Excusez-moi—Louis.” Head tipped to one side. Eyes sweeping appraisingly over Louis’ face, down to his chest. Blue eyes limned in so much black. “They always say these things. The two of them. Like school boys. They cannot help that they are wildly attracted to me.”

At that—Louis instantly started to laugh. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

Smudged eyeliner. Leaning close. Lestat put his hand on Louis’ shoulder. “Well, yes,” he said very quietly. Voice a husky rumble pouring from his throat. “That is what they tell me.”

Warm breath on Louis’ neck. Lestat pulled back, and all the people rushing around them suddenly melted away. And it was just the two of them. And there was a glint in Lestat’s eyes like he’d just won a game neither of them had even realized they were playing. Or that they’d both been playing with their whole chests, and now their chests were caving in. And the game was over.

And Lestat was clutching the prize with both hands.

And Louis was going to let him have it.

“Yeah, so—anyway.” Louis took a slow, deep breath. Slowly, slowly let it come rushing back out. He begged his heart to stop selling him out and to settle. “I’m starving. You wanna hunt?”

Smudged eyeliner. Pink mouth falling open with just the tiniest hint of his fangs poking out. “I would love to hunt with you, cheri,” Lestat said.

[allwaswell16]

A fic rec of canon One Direction fics that take place post-hiatus as requested in this ask. If you enjoy the fics, please leave kudos and comments for the writers! You can find my other fic recs here. Happy reading!

- Louis/Harry -

🧡  Given a Chance by Fabby / @fabby1d

(E, 173k, small town) Five years after One Direction took their last tour, the last thing Louis Tomlinson ever expected to happen while on a tea run at the local Piggly Wiggly was to run into his ex-boyfriend and ex-bandmate Harry Styles.

🧡 The Greatest Thing by @infinitelymint

(E, 163k, fake relationship) Harry and Louis haven’t spoken since the band broke up when a dangerous combination of Niall Horan, tequila, and an ordained Elvis impersonator means that the two of them have to embark on their biggest publicity stunt to date - together.

🧡 You’ve Got My Devotion (Hate You Sometimes) by auburnstargazer / @harryrainbows

(E, 95k, fake relationship) Harry and Louis are forced to fake-date after an old video from when they were dating emerges.

🧡 Stranger Than Larry Fiction by @larrysmomfics

(M, 90k, friends to lovers) A canon-divergent AU where Louis and Harry read Larry Stylinson fanfiction.

🧡 10 Years Later by Harriet1dfan

(E, 79k, friends to lovers) In the 10 years since One Directions' shock split in February 2015, Louis has been living a quiet life in Doncaster, trying to forget he was ever 1/5 of the world's biggest boyband. Until of course there is a televised reunion and tour.

🧡 Need So Much of You by @lululawrence

(NR, 46k, fwb) the would-have-been canon compliant, fake relationship, friends with benefits, friends to lovers fic where Louis wonders if this thing going on with Harry is going to break him or change everything for the better.

🧡  Roses & Violets by sincewewereeighteen

(M, 43k, Dunkirk set) Louis would’ve known beforehand that Harry was hurting and wouldn’t have let it get to this point in the first place. But then again, a little over a year ago Harry hadn’t broken up with him, so, there’s that.

🧡 What If I’m Someone You Won’t Talk About...? by Ioudloudlove

(E, 40k, exes) The one where Harry and Louis come face to face with each other after a painful break up six years earlier. They relive their memories in the build up to seeing each other and come to conclusions about the way things ended. 

🧡 Late Late by @taggiecb

(M, 29k, friends to lovers) 5 Years after Louis becomes a father, and the band takes a permanent hiatus, Louis Tomlinson finds himself hosting his first episode of The Late Late Show.

🧡 Baby, You Were the Love of My Life by therogueskimo / @bravetemptation

(NR, 24k, exes) He asks Liam if he can use his country house and set up a studio in his front room, and Liam agrees. Little does Harry know that Liam has an unplanned guest staying in that house - someone who saved him and ruined him in equal measure.

🧡 Tuca Tuca (ILikeYouILikeYouILikeYou) by @persephoneflouwers

(E, 4k, established relationship) The San Francisco getaway AU, where Harry is needy and Louis has a flight to LA in a few hours.

🧡 seven hours behind by @justanothershadeofblue

(E, 4k, established relationship) Louis's got a post-show buzz to work off, and a lover across the ocean who's just waking up for the day.

🧡  Finally Their Time by lightswoodmagic / @lightwoodsmagic

(NR, 4k, Met Gala) Harry and Louis attend the Met Gala together, and suddenly the whole world knows

🧡 Second Time's A Charm by The_Dizzy_Pixie

(M, 4k, injury) The one where Harry finds out Louis broke his arm. For the second time in one year.

🧡 Let Me Taste Your Silhouette by LetTheMusicMoveYou / @letthemusicmoveyou28

(E, 4k, phone sex) the one where Harry accidentally posts a picture to his main Instagram story instead of only to his close friends, and he just happens to be wearing a 28 Official Programme shirt. Louis happens to notice

🧡 Let Me Take Care Of You by @tommokat

(M, 2k, hurt/comfort) Louis' in Poland with a fractured elbow and Harry's in California, but all he wants is to take care of him.

🧡 a mega fish butty by trackfive

(G, 1k, established relationship) louis is notoriously bad in the kitchen, but he figured a fish finger sandwich wouldn't be all too hard. what he didn't account for was the disruptive, half-naked cameraman who refused to help him slice a tomato.

🧡 Wading in Your Warmth by @insightfulinsomniac

(E, 1k, established relationship) The boys, in love and basking in the LA sun, share a private moment in the pool. aka a fic based on Louis’ recent Instagram story.

- Rare Pairs -

🧡 Kissing in the Rain by Writcraft / @writsgrimmyblog

(E, 93k, Louis/Nick Grimshaw) It starts at a party with shitty cocktails, a DJ that's definitely not as good as Nick and some 'that only happens in the movies' kissing in the rain.

🧡 Live a Thousand Lifetimes by Layne Faire / @laynefaire

(E, 57k, Zayn/Liam) After secretly writing and producing their first album in ten years, One Direction is weeks away from releasing their first new single and announcing a world tour.

[dreaminrainbows]

Happy 28th appreciation day loves! Hope y'all are taking care of yourselves, that this winter treats you well and you have amazing holidays! Here are all the amazing fics that got me through this month! Don't shy away from leaving comments and kudos!!

cut your teeth on my heart by turnyourankle/@turnyourankle | [94.6k]

Louis has worked as a security officer for years, but he's handed his first opportunity to be team lead. The assignment is nothing like what he expected. Harry has spent years trying to distance himself from the pressure of the Twist name and legacy. But it's going to be hard to avoid when his mum hires him a bodyguard.

Porcupine by sweetkalachuchi/@neverforpickles | [82.2k]

Louis, a broke omega librarian, finds his quiet life in Vienna turned upside down when he meets a charming four-year-old boy named Venus, who insists that Louis is his "Mama." When Venus's father, Harry—a powerful and dangerous mafia leader—offers Louis a lucrative job as the boy's full-time nanny, Louis steps into a world where love and danger are deeply intertwined. As Louis grows closer to Harry and Venus, he discovers the perilous secrets of Harry's underworld life. Their unexpected connection sparks a passionate romance, but with Harry's enemies closing in, Louis must navigate a treacherous path where his heart and life are at risk. This is a thrilling tale of love, danger, and the irresistible pull of two souls drawn together against all odds.

Don't Want Shelter by kingsofeverything/@kingsofeverything | [76.6k]

Louis and Harry have known each other all their lives. Friends as children, they danced around each other as teenagers, and have spent the last twenty-five years either screaming at each other or not speaking at all. Except for that one time ten years ago… When Hurricane Nicole threatens the coast, they end up stuck together in their families' old vacation home that they begrudgingly co-own. During the storm, and in the months after, they’re both forced to reevaluate their history and what they mean to each other.

if we were butterflies by blueskiesrry/ @blueskiesrry | [52.6k]

“Is this how I used to look at you?” His hand hovers just over the collarbone of the sculpture, like he’s caught between wanting to touch and wanting to pull away, wanting to leave and wanting to stay. Eyes stuck on Harry, unaware of anything else in the room, Louis whispers, “Something like that,” wondering now if he ever quite did it justice. or: after recruiting harry to model for his sculptures and coming to know all his edges, louis loses him to a life more prosperous than he can provide. he finds harry again four years later.

Tied to Fate  by littlelouishiccups/ @littlelouishiccups | [52.3k]

After his estranged father’s death, Harry inherits a castle in England that has belonged to his family for generations and he knows nothing about. When he breaks up with his boyfriend, Harry decides England is the perfect place for a small vacation. He isn’t prepared to meet Louis Tomlinson, a ghost who once lived in the castle and has haunted it for over five hundred years. He’s even more unprepared to fall in love with him.

Something in the way by momentofclarity/@gaycousinlarry | [40.4k]

Then he looks up and is met by the greenest eyes on this side of the state border. Harry Styles grins wildly at him, dimple deep in his cheek as his eyes sparkle. Hope Floats 90’s AU. When Louis Tomlinson finds out his wife is cheating on him with his best friend, he packs up his life and takes his daughter back to his childhood hometown to start anew. The problem is—he’s not so sure he’s moving forwards rather than backwards. What he finds in the small Texas town is a whole lot of memories, people who think they still know him and a man who’s spent the past decade waiting for his return.

MARRIED FOR A WEEK?!  by gravitycentered/ @zaptains | [20.4k]

Hi guys :) You might recognize Harry from one or two of my old videos .. I was tagged in the Married for a week challenge so I asked him to be my husband ! We had to live together for a week and take each other out on a couple romantic dates and that, check out the video to see how it went :) Give it a like if you enjoyed and maybe subscribe if you haven't already. Love you all - Louis x

There's No Mate Better Than Womb-Mates  by jaerie/@jaerie | [13k]

On the last day of school, Louis decides losing his virginity to one of his high school crushes. The next day, he sleeps with his crush's twin brother. When Louis learns he's pregnant and loses his scholarship, he finds himself shamed and completely alone in the world. He turns to OnlyFans to pay the bills.

Sex Drunk Suckerpunch by thinlines/@thinlinez | [7k]

“Damn, Tommo, hit the jackpot this time? Which old bird or geezer gifted you that? Is it that mad bloke Cowell? Fuck! Did you give him a good dicking?” Louis’ face twisted in disgust as he shoved Niall off. “Don’t say shit like that. Fucking gross.” He shook his head, shuddering at the thought. “Well? Who is it? Who’s willing to spend that much on you?” Louis had to hightail into his room and lock the door to avoid Niall’s insistent questions. He sank down on his bed, carefully putting the Rolex back onto its cushion before noticing a folded note underneath the padding. Hello Louis, I’ve heard from Helene about you. Please contact me when you get this. All the love, H. “H?” Louis pushed back his long fringe. OR Sugar Baby Louis did what any sugar baby should avoid doing but (clichely) end up doing anyways, that is, failing for his sugar mama.

'Sup by MediaWhore/@mediawhorefics | [6k]

Gemma really wants her little brother to sign up for a dating app and get back in the game after a messy divorce. Harry thinks he’s way too old to swipe. They compromise to devastatingly embarrassing results. Meanwhile, all Louis wants is to finish the play he’s been commissioned to write, but one of the regulars at his local coffee shop keeps distracting him. ft. older larry, pushy gemma, harry being a disaster gay and silver fox louis.

Necessities of Nesting  by haztobegood/@haztobegood | [5k]

“I know this is a sensitive topic and you probably don’t want to talk about your nest with me. But I have a friend that teaches nesting classes. Maybe they could help.” “So you agree: my nest sucks and I’m a shit omega.”

That thunder in the distance (I know you're getting close) by Anonymous | [4k]

The grip on his hair tightens once more, Harry’s head now being lifted backwards. With thunder crackling loudly around them, Louis clenches his jaw, not stopping his rhythm, “Try again,” He barks out, “Who am I to you?” “My God!” Harry cries out, tears now threatening to spill. “You're my God. You, fuckkkk, you own me and I serve you. I’m just your–” A whine slips out of Harry, his head growing fussier as he gets closer to his climax, “I’m just a hole for you Sir.” “That’s right,” Louis breaths, sounding smug. “This hole belongs to me. It’s mine to fuck. It’s mine to eat. It’s mine to impregnate. You want that? You want me to fuck a baby into you?” He leans down and licks Harry’s earlobe. Whispering he adds, “Want me to make you a mommy?” OR, God of Thunder Louis pays Harry a visit on Halloween.

Do Not Falter (There's a Star Ahead) by LadyLondonderry/@londonfoginacup | [2k]

It's Christmas Eve, and every single one of Louis' family members are crowded inside his little flat. Really, what more could he ask for on his birthday? The present he never knew he wanted - in the form of an omega from his past - might just make this his most memorable Christmas.

Look what you made me do(when you look the way you do)  by Dreaminrainbows/ @dreaminrainbows | [2k]

“Lou,” he practically whines, knees knocking together, looking at him with those beautiful big doe eyes under his lashes, an innocent seductress,” Wh-what are you doing here?” he pulls at the hem of his pink tee, big black letters reading TOP sprawled across his chest, he looks like he wants to simultaneously cross his hands over his chest and hide but also show it off. Louis knows he wanted to show it off, otherwise he wouldn't have gone outside so boldly with it.

"The Demon you’re trying to summon is currently unavailable." by red_panda28/@red-pandaaa | [666]

“We’re sorry, the Demon you’re trying to summon is currently unavailable. Your ritual is important to us. Please hold--” Harry sighed and hung up, glowering at his phone. “Go with the time they said. It will make things easier they said. They didn’t mention they’d still be putting me on fucking hold,” he muttered. OR Witch Harry tries to summon a Demon on Halloween

A Haunting in Doncaster  by disgruntledkittenface/@disgruntledkittenface | [666]

Harry has been haunting Louis for awhile, waiting for her to watch her episode of Forensic Files. She can't believe it when Louis skips it.

Be kind, leave comments and kudos ALWAYS!

Have yourselves a very happy holidays!

[bravo4iscool]

return (simon “ghost” riley x fem!reader)

fluff, colleagues to lovers (?), singlemom!reader, soft!simon, dad!simon (?), happy (open) end, protective!simon

„You taught him how to do that?“ you asked, your voice on an edge. You didn‘t know if his name really was Simon but everything pointed in that direction. „Did you teach my son how to break noses?“ your voice rose but Ghost stayed calm. „I asked you something! Did you teach him that?“ You were trembling, almost unable to control your anger.

Ghost looked at you and tilted his head. „Yes, I did teach him that. I‘m surprised you didn‘t.“ That only fuelled your anger even more.

or, you’re a retired military operator and ghost decides to spend his leave with you

word count: 6,2k

(masterlist | return pt.2)

You’ve been done with the military. After years of service and being haunted by death you decided to cut the string and leave. Price wasn’t happy but he knew there was no way he’d be able to convince you to stay, so he let you.

The minute you retired you disappeared from the screen, finding yourself a little farm in Denmark to stay. You were happy there and you saw yourself living there till the end.

You settled down with your son - the result of an unserious one night stand - and slowly started to fade away from the surface.

-

It’s a sunny summer day and you’re on your way to feed your chickens. It was still early in the morning but you were enjoying it. The mornings were the only time of the day you actually got to relax.

Your son, Louis, was a handful sometimes and you barely got any time alone since you were single parenting. You sure would’ve been able to find the father of your son but you didn’t want to. That one night stand was a pathetic attempt of yours to escape reality. You had nothing left for Louis’ father. You were fine on your own.

You were humming to yourself as you fed the chickens and collected their eggs, moving onto your two cows Martha and Marie. You got them a few years later than the chickens but by now you were used to them. They provided for you and your son and gave a reason less to leave your farm. The less you left, the better.

So, while you were busy milking the cows you noticed something was different. You couldn’t name it yet but your years with the military, especially Task Force 141, taught you to listen to your instincts.

Someone was here.

You let your eyes carefully roam, your hand ready to reach for the pitchfork but then you pause a minute to think. Whoever was watching you had enough opportunities to jump you already and they didn’t. That could only mean one thing. They weren’t here to hurt you. But before you could shrink the choice of people who could be here you decided to go on. You wanted to let them watch you for a bit longer and maybe make a mistake.

So, you stand up, gently petting Martha and grabbing the bucket of warm milk. You would make some butter out of it today.

You put the bucket onto a wood panel, which served kind of as a counter. Then you heard a silent shuffle. It was almost enough to tell you who was standing as good as directly behind you.

“What do you want, Ghost?” You turned around, crossing your arms to look at your former Lieutenant. He was - to your surprise - not wearing any tactical gear but civilian clothing. That confused you.

Why would he creep up onto you wearing anything but his gear? That wasn’t really Ghost-like. But even if he somewhat looked like a normal human being he still had his mask on.

You sighed. “If you’re here to recruit me for some kind of fucked up mission you can leave already. I won’t come. I’ve got better stuff to do.” You faced your bucket of milk again, grabbing a couple of empty bottles to fill the milk into.

You expected Ghost to leave as quietly as he appeared but he stayed. “I’m on leave,” he said and you stopped dead in your tracks.

“You’re what?” You looked at him over your shoulder, barely able to hide the shock and confusement on your face and in your voice.

He shifted, stepping closer to you. “I said I’m on leave.”

You snorted. “And you decided to spend it with barging into my life and waiting for me in my barn at fucking 5 am?”

He looked at you, his eyes almost as sharp as a knife. “You’re the only one I know who isn’t actively in the military.”

You blinked at him. “I’ll give you that,” you then sighed, still confused. “But I wouldn’t say we were the best of friends, were we?”

You always thought Ghost didn’t like you. He barely spoke to you - only if it was necessary - and, well… he wasn’t particularly easy on you anyway. He wasn’t on anybody but it seemed like he pushed you way more than the others. You constantly needed to prove yourself worthy and all that shit. It didn’t really make you like him either.

“I know,” he simply said while looking around. “Can I stay here?” His eyes met yours again. A cold shiver ran down your spine.

You thought for a moment. Normally you wouldn’t have let him stay but you needed a 2nd hand for some repairs on the farm and Louis was way too small to help you. So, technically speaking, Ghost could and probably would be of great use…

So, you answered, “Only if you help around the farm. I have some stuff to repair here and I need a helping hand. Louis isn’t ready to help yet but you’ll do.”

Something flashed in his eyes before he straightened his back and rolled his shoulders. “Okay. Whatever you need.”

You grinned. “Great. Follow me!” You left the barn, the bucket of milk long forgotten. “I only have two bedrooms, one for myself and one for Louis, so you need to sleep on the couch,” you explained with a shrug. You both knew a couch was like luxury on the open field.

“That’ll do,” Ghost grunted, speeding up his steps. For your size you walked incredibly fast. “Who’s Louis?” he then dared to ask, accompanied with him clearing his throat.

“Louis?” you laughed. “He’s my son. Turned 7 a couple weeks ago. He’s still asleep. I hope.” You glanced at Ghost and you didn’t know if you were hallucinating but he seemed to relax at your words.

-

“Mom… Why is there a scary man standing in our kitchen?” you heard Louis' strained voice. Your head shot up from where you were ducked down, searching for your shoe.

“Louis, darling.” You rushed to his side and saw Ghost staring at your son, completely shocked. “This is Ghost. He’s a…colleague of mine. You don’t need to be scared of him.” You ruffled your son’s hair, gently hugging him from the side. Meanwhile you gave Ghost an urgent look to say something. At least a hello would be nice.

He can’t just stand in your kitchen like a 6’4’’ giant with the build of a fridge, expecting a 7 year old to not be scared of him.

He quickly got your hint and cleared his throat. “Hi Louis,” he said, his eyes looking almost insecure. “I’m Ghost.” He paused again. “Nice to meet you…”

“Why are you so tall?” Louis immediately asked, angling his head to look up at Ghost’s, the fright from moments ago completely forgotten.

“I…don’t know,” Ghost answered, looking down on himself. He was indeed quite tall. Not as tall as König though.

Louis was about to talk again but then you linked yourself in. “I’m sure he just ate really well as a child.” Ghost looked at you when you finished your sentence. Why did you answer for him? He was capable of talking on his own.

You on the other hand thought he didn’t want to answer. You knew he didn’t like to talk about himself and Louis - sadly on this occasion - was very interested in other people’s lives…

Louis turned his head to look at you, then at Ghost. “Do I get as tall as him when I eat all my vegetables?” His eyes were big and you needed to suppress a laugh. He barely even knew Ghost and he already wanted to be like him in a way…

“Of course darling.” You ducked down to whisper in his ear, “Maybe you’ll get even taller.” Louis started to grin and ran off to eat his breakfast. You watched after him with a gentle smile.

When you found out you were pregnant you didn’t know what to do at first but now… Now you enjoyed every single moment with your little boy even if he was a handful sometimes. You just loved him too much to be truly angry at him…

“I can talk for myself, y’know,” Ghost muttered, staring at you. You were shocked for a moment. You just did what you thought was right. Ghost didn’t like to talk about himself.

“I’m sorry. I just…you never liked talking about yourself and-“ you wiped a couple strands of hair out of your face. “-and I know Louis likes to question the shit outta other people. I just tried to help you out.” You looked at Ghost with your arms crossed in front of your chest.

He just grunted and turned away. “Where’s your tea?”

“2nd cupboard from the left,” you sighed. You knew he was difficult at times. Why exactly did you agree to him spending his leave here? You didn’t even know how long he was on leave.

-

You looked at Ghost. Nothing more. You just looked at him sleeping. He’s been with you for, what, two weeks now and you already asked yourself, if he maybe was on permanent leave?

Back, when you were still with the 141 Price never gave you more than 5 days off. He always said: Terrorists don’t sleep, so why was Ghost still here?

You silently sighed before you retreated into your bedroom. It was weird that he already slept because he was the night in person but maybe you managed to tire him out enough…

You knew you didn’t. He was used to way more stress… He surely just acted like he slept so you would go to sleep. This man was a true mystery to you.

You tossed and turned in your bed, your thoughts dodging any attempt to fall asleep. You thought you were going crazy. Not a single technique you learned in your military days helped you, so you let out a deep sigh and stood up.

You put on some clothes and quietly tapped out of your room. You saw Ghost still laying on the couch, relief washing over you. You didn’t need him to know you weren’t able to sleep, even if he probably felt the same.

You quickly grabbed your jacket and left. Once you were outside your feet found the way on their own while your eyes started to get used to the night. It wasn’t as dark as some nights but you still could barely make out the small way that led you over the dunes.

You pulled your jacket around you, the breeze being colder than you thought. Out of habit you scanned your surroundings, making sure there was nothing suspicious.

After a short walk you reached your destination. A small wooden observation deck on top of one of the dunes. You rarely saw people coming here so this quickly turned into your place to go when you needed to be on your own.

You leant against the railing, your eyes focused on the beach and the restless sea in front of you. You felt how you immediately calmed down. You really needed this moment for yourself.

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes. Oh how you loved your life right now. You couldn’t wish for anything better.

You were alone with yourself and your thought for maybe half an hour before you felt a familiar presence behind you.

“I’m starting to believe you like to sneak up onto me,” you said without your eyes leaving the sea. You knew it would only be a matter of time until Ghost found you. He was a light sleeper, if he slept at all. He was a night person, just like you.

He just huffed, carefully walking towards you. He stood beside you, glancing down at you. “Why’d you leave?” he wanted to know, his eyes following your line of view. He found himself staring at the waves crashing at the shore.

“I just needed to think for a moment,” you replied, straightening your body with a sign. Ghost showed no reaction to your answer. Typical of him. Always asking, never answering.

After a couple moments of silence you decided to speak up. “Why are you really here Ghost? And don’t start with this “you’re the only non-military person i know”-bullshit! I know that you never were fond of me, so why are you here now? Matter of fact, why are you still here? We both know Price doesn’t give more than, what, four or five days of leave?” You turned to directly look at him. He was already facing you, the look in his eyes as piercing as always.

“What if I don’t want to answer that question?” he asked, slightly tilting his head. You huffed. That fucker.

“I don’t care that you don’t want to answer!” your voice grew louder. “All those years you pushed me around like some sort of…toy and now you show up in my fucking barn at freaking 5am and ask to stay with me during your leave.” You almost threw your hands in the air but warned yourself to try and keep calm. “Do you even hear how fucking…absurd that sounds?”

You tried to read the look in Ghost’s eyes but it was nearly impossible. The mask made it even harder. You took a deep breath, before continuing.

“I know nothing about you Ghost, other than maybe your last name and call sign and I worked years by your side. I’m putting an insane amount of trust into you right now, do you know that? I’m risking not only my live but most importantly my son’s by having you here so I think the least you can do is answer my question: why the fuck you are here?”

“Why…are you risking your life by having me here?” he asked, trying so hard to hide the confusion in his voice. You nearly started to scream. Was he actually stupid or did he just act like it?

“Why do you think I chose Denmark out of all the places in Europe?” You stared at him. “I’ll tell you why! It’s cause no one gives a single flying fuck about Denmark! There’re a shit ton of people after me but most importantly after you.” You pressed your index finger against his chest, unaware of how close you suddenly were to him. You heavily breathed, your thoughts clouded. “And if they find out you’re here not only you will be in danger but me and my son too. I swore to myself to leave anything military related behind the second Louis came into my life, so yes, at a certain point you’re risking my and his life.”

When you were finished you stepped back, clearly shocked about your rant. Fuck, that was embarrassing, you thought. He maybe wasn’t your superior anymore but you still had an immense respect for him. Under normal circumstances.

You wanted to start talking again to apologize but he cut you off. “I understand.” He did? “I’m causing you trouble. I’ll leave as soon as possible.” He turned to walk away and you groaned.

“Ghost! Wait!” He didn’t stop. “For fuck sake,” you cursed as you went to run after him. Insufferable man! “I didn’t ask for you to leave!” you nearly shouted and he came to a hold.

“Well, what is it then?” he snapped while turning around, throwing his hands in the air. He shouldn’t have followed you here in the first place, now he was knee deep into some shit.

“I just want to know why you’re here. I want to know what to expect of this whole thing here,” you answered. You're suddenly dangerously calm. “I wouldn’t have allowed you to stay if I wouldn’t be able to take the risk. I just want to know what you want here. What you really want here.”

Ghost blinked at you and you started to give up on getting an answer out of him but then he started to talk. “I wanted to spend time with you.” His voice was slightly shaking, going almost unnoticeable.

You were speechless for a moment. He wanted to spend time with…you? Who the fuck poisoned him? You opened your mouth to reply, trying to think of the right words.

“What?”

“I’m not gonna repeat myself,” he huffed, turning away again. “Do what you want with that information.” His voice was only a mumble but you still were able to hear it. Your head was spinning, not knowing what to think.

-

„You look scary with that mask.“

„I do?“

„Yea…“

Ghost smirked as Louis stared at him. You currently were in town to buy a couple of things and trusted Ghost enough to stay alone with Louis. He needed to admit, the young boy was funny.

„Why are you wearing it? Mom told me you wear it for work but you’re not working now.“ Louis tilted his head and Ghost sighed. The boy was right. He wasn‘t working right now but the mask comforted him in a maybe fucked up way. He didn’t want to take it off.

„I like how it feels on my face,“ Ghost tried to explain, looking down at Louis. „It makes me feel safe.“

„Oh…“ Louis stopped to think for a minute. „Just like my mom makes me feel safe, right?“ he then asked, staring up into Ghost’s eyes.

The older man nodded. „Yes, just like that.“

“Do you have another mask?”

“Why are you asking?”

“If your mask makes you feel safe whenever you wear it, maybe it would make me feel safe when I’m at school…”

Ghost stopped in his tracks, turning to look at Louis, the concern clearly visible in his eyes. “You don’t feel safe in school?”

“No… They always make fun of me because I only have my mom. They’re talking about their dads all the time and I don’t have one…” A quiet sob left Louis’ lips and Ghost felt an unfamiliar pang in his chest.

“They…they don’t hurt you, do they?” Ghost sat down on the grass, the barn door he wanted to fix long forgotten. He patted the stop beside him, motioning Louis to sit down. He needed to find out what was going on in that boy's school.

Louis hesitatingly sat down, avoiding Ghost’s eyes. He was quiet for a while and Ghost wanted to start talking to assure him everything was alright but then Louis broke the silence.

“They shove me sometimes,” he said, his voice quiet. “It doesn’t hurt or anything but I still don’t like it… They always call me Mommy’s boy and make fun of me because I’m not as good at sports as they are…” A silent tear was making its way down Louis’ cheek and Ghost wanted to reach out to wipe it away but…he was afraid.

“Have you ever thought of…defending yourself?” Ghost wanted to know after a while, glancing down at Louis again. “You shouldn’t just take what they throw at you.”

“I don’t know how. I never- I never even told my mom about it…” Louis averted his gaze further and Ghost knew it was because he was afraid that Ghost may think he was weak.

“Mhh,” Ghost hummed, leaning back on his arms. “Would you like to learn? I could teach you a thing or two. Nothing major of course but it could help you.”

Louis’ head shot up, an unknown sparkle in his eyes. He started to beam. “You would do that?”

“Of course,” Ghost smiled under his mask. „Just some basic self defense,“ he further explain, wondering why you didn‘t teach your son. If he had kids it would‘ve been the first thing he‘d teach them. The world could and would be cruel. He would want to prepare them for it.

-

„Fuck,“ you cursed as you picked up your phone. „Yes?“ you ask, giving Ghost a quick look. You two were currently in town, grocery shopping, when your phone rang. You didn‘t know who it was. You barely had any friends.

„What?“ you almost whisper in disbelief, the grip you had on the pack of noodles in your hand loosening. Before they could fall to the ground Ghost catches them, raising his eyebrow under his mask. What was going on?

„Of course, I‘ll be there as soon as possible. Yes, thank you for calling.“ You end the call, your hand slowly falling to your side. You only manage to blink for a couple seconds. Then you grab the noodles from Ghost‘s. „Louis school called. He got in a fight, we need to pick him up,“ you explain, throwing the noodles in the cart and pushing it forward.

Ghost only followed you, knowing that he probably was the reason Louis got into that fight. Would be funny to explain that to you…

You quickly pay and rush to the car. Once everything was packed away you started the engine. For two years Louis didn’t make trouble once and now he suddenly got in a fight? What the hell?

Ghost was quiet beside you, only looking at the road ahead.

When you pulled into the parking lot of the school you sighed, pushing a couple of hair strands out of your face. „Into the hell hole we go,“ you mutter while opening the door. Before you could close it, Ghost spoke up.

„I can go with you, if you want. I‘ll look out for Louis,“ he suggested and you stopped to look at him. Was he okay? He hated social interactions normally.

„Uh, sure. You can tag along,“ you reply, clearly surprised. Ghost nodded and opened his door. You wanted to ask about his mask but as you knew him he would keep it on.

You quickly brushed down your clothes before you entered the school, Ghost trailing behind you like a guard dog. It probably looked scary to anybody else but you were very used to it. He used to do it all the time while you still were with the 141.

After a couple minutes you stood in front of the principal's office, gently knocking. The sooner you were done with this, the sooner you‘d be home.

„Come in,“ you heard the voice of the principal. You cringed. He was a weird man, always so suggestive… Weird and disgusting in your eyes. That's why you never acted on it but well… men were men, weren‘t they?

You opened the door, walking in with a forced smile. „Hello Mr. Jorgensen.“ He stood up and gave you an almost nasty looking smile. It faded when he noticed Ghost behind you.

He extended his hand to greet you, then he turned his head to face Ghost. „And you must be Louis' father, am I right?“ He extended his hand again.

You were about to correct Jorgensen but Simon dryly replied for you. „Mr. Riley.“ Jorgensen nodded, visibly swallowing.

„You may have a seat,“ he then gestures towards the chairs in front of his desk. „I‘m well aware you know why I asked you to come here,“ Jorgensen starts, folding his hands on top of his desk. „Louis has been showing…concerning behavior lately and he probably should have contacted you earlier about it.“

„What behavior?“ You ask, slightly tilting your head. Louis always was a brave kid.

You could see that Jorgensen hesitated, his eyes jumping back and forth between you and Ghost. Was he scared to talk? „He broke another boys nose,“ he ripped the plaster off, straight up looking at you.

Before he could continue Ghost spoke up. „He was defending himself.“ Now you look at your old colleague in shock. Jorgensen didn‘t do anything different.

He cleared his throat. „Mind to elaborate on that Mr. Riley?“

Ghost straightened his back, mimicking Jorgensen‘s folded hands. „Kid‘s just defending himself. He‘s been bullied for months now. What did you expect him to do? Drink tea about it?“ His voice was cold and his eyes were piercing. You saw Jorgensen swallowing.

„We‘re still trying to find out what really-“

„Are you saying he‘s lying?“ Ghost questioned, leaning forward on his knees. „Are you saying that you don‘t believe him? A child doesn‘t hit without a good reason and it especially doesn’t break a nose because it feels like it.“

You saw how tense Ghost became and you decided to step in. You gently placed your hand on his shoulder. That caught him off guard.

„Thank you for giving us that information Mr. Jorgensen but I would like to see my son now. I assure you that I- we will have a talk with him as soon as we return home.“

„I…have no doubt in that,“ Jorgensen replied, standing up. „Please, follow me.“ He walked around his desk and out of his office. You and Ghost followed.

You walked down a hallway and then another door opened. In that room sat Louis. As soon as he saw you he jumped up, running into your arms. He started to cry as you held him close.

Jorgensen cleared his throat, turning to look at Ghost. „Well, Mr. Riley, I will leave your little family alone for now. I hope we don‘t see each other again about this matter.“ Then he left, but his words didn‘t. They would haunt Ghost until the early morning hours.

„Why did you do that?“ you immediately asked Louis when he calmed down, your voice gentle. It made no sense screaming at him now. „Did…they really bully you?“

Louis only nodded, sniffing. „Simon taught me how to do that,“ he then whispered, looking at Ghost behind you. You stiffed. Then you slowly turned around and stood up.

„You taught him how to do that?“ you asked, your voice on an edge. You didn‘t know if his name really was Simon but everything pointed in that direction. „Did you teach my son how to break noses?“ your voice rose but Ghost stayed calm. „I asked you something! Did you teach him that“ You were trembling, almost unable to control your anger.

Ghost looked at you and tilted his head. „Yes, I did teach him that. I‘m surprised you didn‘t.“ That only fuelled your anger even more.

„You‘re surprised I didn‘t teach him how to break noses and punch children?!“ You jammed your finger against his chest, forgetting that your son was able to witness all this.

„Yes, I am surprised!“ he replied, his voice also suddenly strained. „Why does someone with your abilities and knowledge doesn‘t teach his child how to defend himself from a bunch of little bastards?!“ Ghost‘s eyes grew dark and he made himself taller than he probably was.

„Because I am not a blood-thirsty monster like you!“ you yell back at him, shocked by your own words. You take a step back, swallowing. You didn‘t mean to say that. You didn‘t- Louis‘ trembling voice interrupts you.

„Mom?“ Your head snaps, looking at him. The look in his eyes is terrified. „Mom please don‘t yell…“ he pleads, his voice quiet.

„I’m- I’m sorry darling…“ your own voice is shaking, as well as your hands. You swallow again. „Come on, let’s get you out of here.“ You grab his hand, leading him past Ghost.

„You wanna walk?“ you snapped at him when he didn‘t follow. You didn‘t want to see his ugly mask but you also didn‘t want to leave him here alone…

-

You were back home again, it was late and Louis was already sleeping. You were in the kitchen preparing something to eat for you and well, for…Ghost. And as if you think of the devil you felt his presence behind you. You wanted to say something but he was faster.

„I care about him. That‘s why I taught him,“ he says and you turn around. He‘s leaning against the doorframe, looking at you.

You huff, „You care about him? Please, you know him for one month! How do you already care about him so much that you’re willing to teach him how to break fucking noses!“ Your voice was strained as you tried not to yell at him.

„I’ve known you for two weeks before I started to care about you!“ He replies, his voice calm but his eyes piercing. He pushed himself off the doorframe and walked towards you.

„Oh please, you didn‘t exchange one single word with me! You care about nobody!“ Ghost looks at you and for a second you believe you saw hurt in his eyes.

„That’s not true,“ he defends himself, coming to a hold just in front of you. You need to crane your neck to look up at him. His height really annoyed you sometimes.

„I care about people!“

You huff again, „And who are those people?“

„Johnny, Price, Gaz,“ he starts to list your former colleagues. „I care about Louis. I care about…you“ His voice fades and he turns his head away. „Believe it or not but I care about you.“

You swallow, struck by his confession. How do you answer something like that?

„If you care about me, why did you never make any effort to get to know me? I wanted to be friends with you, Ghost… Just like I‘m friends with Soap and the others.“ Your anger seemed to disappear and sadness took its place.

He didn‘t say anything and you sighed. You knew he wasn‘t good with feelings. Still, it annoyed you a little bit. You turn around, checking the noodles in the pot. The water should be boiling by now.

„I wanted to protect you…“ Ghost said after a minute of silence, his voice…unsure. He sounded even a bit insecure.

„From what?“ you ask in return, your gaze fixed on the food in front of you. You were more than capable of looking after yourself. You already had years of military experience before you joined the 141. Why, or better said, from what did he want to protect you?

“From me.” You felt his breath against your neck. Did he take off his mask? What the hell happened? “I wanted to protect you from that blood-thirsty monster I am,” he recalled the words you said when picking up Louis.

You closed your eyes, embarrassed at what you called him. He wasn’t a monster. Not to you at least…

“Look, I-” you start but he interrupts you.

“Don’t take back what you said because it’s true.” you hear his voice directly besides you ear and you can’t help but let out an unsteady breath.

You sigh, not daring to turn around. If you were right and he took his mask off you didn’t want to disturb his privacy. “Ghost-“

“Simon,” he interrupts you once again. “Call me Simon.”

“Okay.” Your gaze drifts down to the pot of noodles, carefully stirring it with a wooden spoon. “Simon… What I said- it’s not true. You’re not a blood-thirsty monster,” you try to clarify, signing once again. “I said it in the heat of the moment and-“

“And it’s true. I am who I am and I was protecting you from that.” He was placing his arms next to the stove, caging you in. You briefly closed your eyes, taking a deep breath to calm down. This was getting kinda…weird. Why was he suddenly talking like that?

“Why would you protect me from yourself?” you want to know, your voice almost cracking. Hell, why were you getting so emotional now?

“Because… Because I love you,” you felt his breath stutter and you wanted to reply but he just kept talking. “I love you and I have the terrible habit of getting the ones that I love killed. That was why I kept my distance. That was why I wanted to protect you from me. I didn’t want you to get hurt, I couldn’t forgive myself if you were hurt. But now, now that you left the 141 and…me I realized that maybe, maybe I should…risk it and that I should make up for all the times I hurt you because I wanted to keep you safe…”

Simon had finished and you needed a couple minutes to sort your thoughts out. He was still standing beside you, his hot breath almost burning your skin. “I…don’t know what to say,” you whisper, too overwhelmed and confused by his confession.

“Then say nothing,” he replied in a, suddenly, very gentle voice, now placing his hands on your hips. You were immediately melting into his touch. How many nights did you dream of that already? Now it was turning into reality…

He carefully turned you around to face him but you kept your gaze low, not daring to look into his eyes. If he really was without his mask-

“Look at me,” he whispers. Then you feel his hand on your chin, carefully lifting it up. You were now looking directly at him.

You were almost starstruck as you saw his face. It was…so much more handsome than you imagined it. He had messy blond hair, a little stubble and—god forbid—scars littered all across his face but you loved it.

Unconsciously your hand reached out to trace his features, slightly flinching when he grabbed it. He caressed your wrist with his thumb, slowly raising it to his mouth to press a little kiss onto it.

“Do you understand now?” he asks you, leaning down to be face to face with you. You only manage to nod, too overwhelmed by this whole situation.

He gave you a little smile, then he starts to tilt his head. “Can I kiss you?” he wants to know after a couple moments of silence and again you can’t manage more than a nod.

He smiled again before pulling you in to capture your lips with his and you feel like heaven. Was this really Simon Riley, Lieutenant Ghost, kissing you? You felt like you took a wrong turn somewhere but…it was good.

After you break the kiss he keeps you close, one of his hands on your hip, the other at the back of your head. “Let me show you that I love you,” he mutters, starting to trail kisses down your neck.

You let out a satisfied sigh, your hands finding the way into his hair. You would let him. You would let him show.

Not in bed though. He didn’t deserve that just yet.

-

„God, that kid is a handful sometimes,“ Simon groans as he flops down on your bed, belly first. You only laugh at him, putting your book aside.

„You get used to it,“ you smirk, your hand finding its way into his hair. „I‘ve been handling him for 7 years now…“ You laugh at his facial expression, pressing a gentle kiss on his head.

Before you can pull back he grabs your face, locking his lips on yours, a satisfied hum leaving his mouth. You smile into the kiss.

„You‘re gonna be the death of me,“ you chuckle after breaking the kiss.

„Better kill you with my charm, then my gun,“ he mumbles in reply, before pulling you in again. He shifts, so he’s on top of you, supporting his weight with his arms.

Your hands caress the back of his head, then his cheeks and his neck. You sigh into the kiss.

After he breaks the kiss he lays down between your legs, his head on your stomach and his arms around your waist. You softly smile down at him. Never in a million years you would‘ve thought that one day your former Lieutenant would lay in your bed, cuddling with you. It was like a fever dream…

„Everything okay, love?“ he mumbles against your stomach, looking up at you. You smile again.

„Yes, nothing to worry about.“ Your hands find their way into his hair again, gently playing with the dirty blonde strands. You were savoring this moment because it could be any day that he needed to leave again…

You were close to dozing off when he started talking again. „Price reached out to me…“

„And?“ you mumble back at him, well aware of what was to come. You were already preparing yourself for the day he‘d leave. You knew he couldn‘t stay forever.

„Said I need to come back. I’ve been gone for almost two and a half months…“ The words were heavy on Simon‘s tongue as he tightened his hold around you.

„When will you leave,“ you gently ask, continuing to play with his hair. You enjoy the feeling of him just laying on top of you. It made you feel safe. You didn‘t want him to leave you again.

„They‘ll pick me up tomorrow,“ he sighs and you don‘t even bother asking how they know where to pick him up. He managed to find you too, didn‘t he?

„Tomorrow?“ you smirk, grabbing his face to pull you up to you. „Better make the best out of tonight then, huh?“ You feel him smile against your lips, propping himself up on his arms above you.

„You damn right sweetheart,“ he whispers against your lips, leaving you a puddle. The power he had over was crazy.

[mariacallous]

Some prominent conservative lawmakers and commentators are advocating for ending no-fault divorce, laws that exist in all 50 US states and allow a person to end a marriage without having to prove a spouse did something wrong, like commit adultery or domestic violence.

The socially conservative, and often religious, rightwing opponents of such divorce laws are arguing that the practice deprives people – mostly men – of due process and hurt families, and by extension, society. Republican lawmakers in Louisiana, Oklahoma, Nebraska and Texas have discussed eliminating or increasing restrictions on no-fault marriage laws.

Defenders of the laws, which states started passing a half-century ago, see legislation and arguments to repeal them as the latest effort to restrict women’s rights – following the overturning of Roe v Wade and passage of abortion bans around the country – and say that without such protections, the country would return to an earlier era when women were often trapped in abusive marriages.

“No-fault divorce is critical to the ability, particularly the ability of women, to be able to exercise autonomy in their own relationships, in their own lives,” said Denise Lieberman, an adjunct professor at the Washington University School of Law in St Louis, who has a specialty in policies concerning gender, sexuality and sexual violence.

Before 1969, when then California Republican governor Ronald Reagan, who had been divorced, approved the country’s first no-fault divorce law, women, who are more likely to experience violence from an intimate partner, were often forced to stay in marriages. If they could not prove that their husband had been abusive or persuade him to grant a divorce, they would not be able to take any assets from the marriage or remarry, according to a study in the Quarterly Journal of Economics.

States around America gradually followed suit and passed similar laws allowing unilateral divorce until 2010, when New York became the last state to approve the practice.

Between 1976 and 1985, states that passed the laws saw their domestic violence rates against men and women fall by about 30%; the number of women murdered by an intimate partner declined by 10%; and female suicide rates declined by 8 to 16%.

Without such laws, “it’s hard to prove anything in court relating to a family because you don’t have any witnesses”, said Kimberly Wehle, professor at the University of Baltimore School of Law. “It’s very difficult to get evidence to show abuse of children. How do you do it? Do you put your kids on the stand?”

Conservative commentators such as Matt Walsh, Steven Crowder and lawmakers such as the Republican senator JD Vance of Ohio have argued that the laws are unfair to men and hurt society because they lead to more divorces.

The divorce rate in the United States increased significantly from 1960, when it was 9.2 per 1,000 married women, to 22.6 in 1980. But by 2022, the rate had fallen to 14.5.

On the increase in divorces, Vance said in 2021: “One of the great tricks that I think the sexual revolution pulled on the American populace” is the idea that “these marriages were fundamentally, you know, they were maybe even violent, but certainly they were unhappy, and so getting rid of them and making it easier for people to shift spouses like they change their underwear, that’s going to make people happier in the long term”.

Beverly Willett, a writer and attorney, argues that unilateral no-fault divorce is also unconstitutional because it violates a person’s 14th amendment right to due process.

The defendant “has absolutely no recourse to say, ‘Wait a minute. I don’t want to be divorced, and I don’t think that there are grounds for divorce. I would like to be heard. I would like to call witnesses,’” said Willett, who experienced a divorce she didn’t want because she thought her marriage could be saved. “I believed in my vows” and “didn’t want to give up”.

But Willett’s argument relies on the idea that “women are either property or that somehow men’s liberty is restrained by not allowing them to stay in a marriage with someone who does not want to be married”, said Wehle, who also wrote about it in the Atlantic. “I disagree with the idea that women are somehow property interests of their husbands. That is an arcane relic of law that has no place in modern society.”

Willett responded to Wehle’s critique by writing that “nobody has suggested a return to antiquated laws of the 18th and 19th century. Considerable reform that protects women and ensures their equality in family court has been enacted since then.”

On the argument that no-fault divorce reduces domestic violence, Willett points to data that most domestic violence occurs between unmarried couples and says regardless, with “any contract, any lawsuit, you still have to follow the constitution”.

But without such laws, victims of domestic violence would then have to navigate a court system that can be time-consuming, “very adversarial and very costly” because the plaintiff often must then pay for child care and transportation, said Marium Durrani, vice-president of policy for the National Domestic Violence Hotline.

“Any sort of additional barrier that we add to the ease of legal proceeding is, frankly, a nightmare and an enormous burden for survivors,” said Durrani. “I’m not trying to be an alarmist, but it can increase death [if] a survivor of domestic violence has to prove that they are being abused in a divorce proceeding.”

Still, Lieberman does not think Republicans will succeed in their efforts to make it more difficult for people to get divorced.

“I do believe that that train has left the station. I mean, we have had no-fault divorce now for 50 years,” Lieberman said. But “I didn’t think the supreme court would overturn Roe v Wade, which we had for 50 years, so I suppose we will see.”

[i-arch-my-backula]

Yandere Lestat and Louis x GN reader headcanons

This is my first time writing for Louis and Lestat so I'm sorry if this is kind of out of character for them. Also I'm basing this off of the 1994 movie portrayal of the characters.

Warnings: Yandere behavior, cheating on reader (not my Lestat or Louis), murder, forced blood drinking mentioned, manipulative behavior, unhealthy relationships, slight au

Lestat had befriended a local artist in France where they're currently staying. Lestat had heard about this artist's muse and brought Louis along to meet them. When both men followed the artist into the studio there, waiting on a chaise lounge was you. Your outfit was most likely some kind of sleepwear that’s trending. Your hair, your body, your smile, all of it drew both men in. They could tell why this artist has dedicated you as his muse. 

When they saw you they knew they had to have you. Louis was hesitant to really admit to wanting you to be all theirs, but Lestat had no problem talking openly to Louis about how much he desired you. 

Soon both men began to shower you with affection away from your boyfriend. Lestat was all about taking you out on the town and buying you gifts, being very physical. While Louis was content to talk with you privately about whatever came across your minds. 

They spent whatever time they could looking at the art your boyfriend made of you. Lestat went as far as to offer to buy some paintings of you. But sadly they weren’t for sale, so he opted to steal drawings of you. 

After establishing a relationship with you, that's when they began to try and separate you from your boyfriend. Lestat would plant the ideas in your head and Louis would be there to comfort you through it all. “I’ve seen him around town, looking at other people the way he looks at you.” Lestat would say. “You deserve so much better than him Y/N. I promise you that.” Louis would add. 

Louis would be hesitant to keep going with this plan, feeling like he’s building a relationship with you on nothing but lies. But Lestat would be there to tell Louis that this is what’s best for you, that they would be the best people to take care of you. So Louis would feel less guilty over time about this. 

They’d also start to get your boyfriend to see other people, encouraging him to cheat on you just so their plan could be set into motion. Louis would take a little convincing to actually get in fully on this plan but Lestat would get him on board in the end. 

They’d set it up so you’d catch your boyfriend cheating on you during the night. You’d run over to Louis and Lestat’s house and there they would be to comfort you about what you just saw. After you fall asleep they’ll go to your ex-boyfriend's house and kill him and the person he was cheating on you with, draining them of all their blood. 

They’ll then have to explain to you what they are. Louis would break it to you gently and promise you that they’d never do anything to hurt you. Lestat would offer to turn you too and give you a couple days to think it over. 

They’d set up a letter to give you from your “Partner” that says he fled to another country with his new partner. This will hopefully send you over the edge and get you to let them turn you into a vampire. If it doesn’t they’ll manipulate you into it anyway. 

Once you’re turned they’ll start to spoil you even more for letting them turn you, trying to prove to you that you made the perfect decision by letting them turn you. 

Lestat will want you to drink from humans immediately while Louis will understand if you’re hesitant. But both of them won’t let you drink from animals. So if you’re not drinking from humans they’ll force feed you blood. 

If you ever think about leaving they’ll manipulate you into staying. What other vampire would want you? Can you really trust someone else after your last boyfriend? It’s best to stay with them, they were the ones who turned you after all. 

Louis is a softer yandere. He’ll be more comforting and won’t be as explicit with his manipulation tactics and possessiveness. Lestat is far more open with his yandere behavior. He’ll outright manipulate you and yell at you if you talk about leaving. Louis will comfort you after and Lestat will eventually apologize just so you don’t hate him. 

You’re not going to leave them, that’s not an option. You’re stuck with them forever. If you try to leave they’ll track you down and they’ll lock you in their house if that’s necessary. 

[sunflowervoltwentyeight]

Happy 28th! Here is my September 2024 fic rec, organized by word count, from longest to shortest. You can view my other fic recs here. Enjoy!

Godless, Graceless, and Young by kiddle / @bluejeanlouis (110k)

Seattle, Washington, 1991

It takes a special breed to have a slacker persona and still be a millionaire rockstar. Harry is about halfway there. He's the guitarist in a Seattle grunge band that could finally be headed somewhere, but he's also been sleeping on his bassist's sofa for the last three months and has been fired from every day-job he's had. Money doesn't equal success, but it does pay the bills.

When a job offer and a new lead singer stumble into Harry's life, he might be getting a lot more than he bargained for. Like a couple of extra gigs and a boy who can teach him more than just how to mix a few drinks, and it's gonna take a few band brawls and a whole lot of heart-searching to get there.

He's gotta have one somewhere...

Coax the Cold by mediawhore / @mediawhorefics (86k)

England, 1897.  

English Professor Louis Tomlinson’s passion for the occult has been a source of mockery and derision for most of his life. When he hears whispers of a travelling freak show newly established in London claiming the existence of a monstrous sea hybrid, half-man, half-fish, Louis sees it as his ticket to credibility amongst his peers. The summer he spends undercover working on the show, however, gives him much more than that.

Late Nights and Good Intentions by princelouisau / @princelouisau (71k)

“About last night,” Harry says suddenly, as if he’d been debating on whether to say anything. Louis whips back around to look at him.

“Do not finish that thought,” Louis says just as abruptly.

Harry looks at him oddly, as if assessing him. With a small frown, it seems the assessment is over. “I only wish to say that you do not have to dwell on it. The rest of the men will surely forget by tonight.”

“And you?” Louis asks, raising an eyebrow. “Will you forget?”

“I will remember every second of it fondly,” the Lord says, no trace of a tease in his words. or, a Victorian era au where Louis pines for his overprotective older brother’s very charming best friend.

For You, I Would Ruin Myself by wildestdreams / @thelavendrhaze (54k) WIP

It was the perfect last day of summer. They built sandcastles, wrote their names in the sand, and caught crabs, which they eventually let go when one of them pinched Louis and he was near tears. Afterward, they swam in the ocean, splashing each other playfully before moving toward one another in sync, lips pressing together in sweet kisses. When their skin turned prune-like, they returned to shore, laying out on their towels beneath the bright sun, snacking on fruit and chocolate while talking about everything and nothing.

At some point, Harry had shared, “I think this has been my favorite summer yet.”

“Why’s that?” Louis asked, a smile peeking out as though he already knew. He looked so pretty and cool with his sun-kissed skin and black Ray-Bans covering his eyes.

Harry rolled over on his towel until he was half-pressed against Louis and placed his palms on top of Louis’ chest, tucking his chin over them. “Because I had you.”

or

Harry’s unrequited crush on Louis turns into a whirlwind summer romance, only to leave him heartbroken in the end. Years later, a return to his hometown forces Harry to confront his past and the one person he was running from.

Tarnished but so Grand by tilthesundies / @tllthesundies (32k)

Louis hides in places. Harry always finds him.

I'll Be Your Love Tonight by dinosaursmate (20k)

“I don’t know how I’m ever going to walk away from you.” “So don’t.” Harry ran a fingertip over Louis’ thigh. “Stay with me.” - It's the summer of 1999 and Louis Tomlinson has been abandoned at a house party. A dispute over Smirnoff Ice and several night buses later, Louis is unsure how he'll ever walk away from this lovely, curly-haired boy.

Green in the Morning and Blue Afternoon by wildestdreams / @thelavendrhaze (14k)

“Harry,” Louis whispered beside him.

Harry hummed, his hand coming up to stroke Louis’ back. Louis was still on top of him, his body sagging against Harry’s, heavy and warm, and Harry loved it.

“I don’t think it was a one off.”

“Me either, Lou.”

or a Friends AU.

A Few of My Favourite Things by sweariwouldnt / @sweariwouldnt (8k)

Harry and Louis do cat sitting.

[niallerspayno]

Black and White - Part 3

Masterlist

As One Direction’s hair and makeup artist, you’ve always had a flirty friendship with Niall. But one wild night in Las Vegas changes everything when you wake up married—and management insists you stay that way. Will you keep hiding your feelings, or finally admit there’s more than friendship between you?

Tags: Niall x reader, friends to lovers, forced proximity, fluff

Part 1 | Part 2

...

The day unfolds in a blur, and you do your best to avoid Niall. It’s not that you don’t want to see him—it’s that you’re scared of what might happen when you do. The morning’s kiss lingers in your mind like a ghost, haunting you with its sweetness and the vulnerability it demanded.

You stick to the crew, throwing yourself into the tasks of the day: managing schedules, prepping supplies, and assisting with the stage setup. Every time you catch sight of Niall, he’s looking for you. His eyes scan the room with a focus that makes your heart race, but you always manage to duck behind someone or slip out of sight.

Niall, however, isn’t making it easy.

When lunch is delivered, you find your favorite sandwich waiting for you at the catering table with a small note in Niall’s handwriting: Don’t forget to eat, love. -N.

Your cheeks burn, and though you try to ignore the flutter in your chest, you find yourself clutching the note tighter than you should.

Later, during the soundcheck, you linger in the shadows at the side of the stage, watching the boys run through their songs. Niall’s voice rings clear and confident, his presence on stage magnetic as always. But between verses, he glances toward where you’re standing. His eyes meet yours, and the smile that spreads across his face is enough to make you duck your head and retreat further into the wings.

By the time the concert rolls around, you’re emotionally exhausted from dodging him all day. You station yourself behind the mixing desk, far from the stage where Niall’s charm feels almost weaponized against you.

But you can’t avoid him forever.

Midway through the set, Niall’s voice comes through the speakers, quiet but purposeful. “Alright, this next one’s special.”

The crowd cheers wildly, and Niall steps closer to the mic, his guitar hanging loosely around his neck. “I want to dedicate this song to someone who’s been with me through thick and thin. She’s smart, funny, and way too good at avoiding me, but I think she knows how much she means to me.”

Your heart stops.

Liam shoots you a knowing smile from his spot on stage, and Louis, ever the instigator, points right in your direction. The fans pick up on it immediately, and a wave of cheers and screams ripple through the arena.

Niall chuckles, his eyes locking with yours across the distance. “This one’s for you, love,” he says, his voice low and earnest.

As the opening chords of Little Things fill the air, your chest tightens. Every lyric feels like a confession, a quiet declaration of everything he hasn’t yet said out loud. Tears sting your eyes, and you turn away, suddenly overwhelmed by the intimacy of the moment shared with thousands of strangers watching.

When the concert ends, you slip out before Niall can corner you. But back at the hotel, you know you can’t avoid him forever.

...

Back at the hotel, you pace outside the door to your shared room with Niall, your heart pounding in your chest. You can’t face him, not after the dedication, not after dodging him all day. The sincerity in his voice, the way his eyes had found yours even among the chaos of the crowd—it was too much.

Without thinking, you turn on your heel and make your way down the hall to Lottie’s room. She opens the door almost immediately, her brows furrowing in concern when she sees your face.

“What’s wrong?” she asks, stepping aside to let you in.

“I can’t…” you begin, your voice cracking as you slump onto the edge of her bed. “I can’t stay in that room with him tonight.”

Lottie closes the door and crosses her arms, leaning against the wall. “Why not?”

You bury your face in your hands, frustration bubbling to the surface. “Because I’m a mess, Lottie. He’s… perfect, and I’m…”

“Don’t even finish that sentence,” Lottie says sharply, moving to sit beside you. She places a comforting hand on your shoulder. “You need to stop tearing yourself down like this.”

You shake your head, unable to meet her gaze. “You don’t understand. Niall deserves someone who—”

“Stop,” Lottie interrupts, her tone firm but kind. “What Niall deserves is someone who makes him happy. And that’s you. You’re so caught up in your insecurities that you can’t see how much he loves you.”

Your stomach twists, her words hitting too close to home. “He doesn’t love me,” you mumble, though the words feel hollow even as you say them.

Lottie scoffs, standing up and pacing the small space. “Oh, come on. You heard him tonight. He dedicated Little Things to you. Do you think he does that for just anyone?”

“He was just trying to—”

“To what?” Lottie cuts in, turning to face you. “Embarrass you? Show off? No, he was trying to tell you how he feels because you’re too stubborn to listen when he says it outright.”

You let out a shaky breath, your hands twisting in your lap. “It’s not that simple.”

“It is,” Lottie says softly, sitting back down and taking your hands in hers. “You’re the one making it complicated.”

Before you can respond, your phone buzzes on the bedside table. You glance at the screen, your heart skipping a beat when you see Niall’s name.

Goodnight, love. Wherever you are, I hope you’re okay. I’m here when you’re ready to talk.

Your throat tightens as you stare at the message. The simplicity of his words, the patience and care behind them, is enough to bring tears to your eyes.

Lottie leans over, reading the message, and lets out a soft sigh. “See? He’s not giving up on you. And you shouldn’t give up on him—or yourself.”

You swallow hard, the weight of her words settling in your chest. “I just… I don’t know if I can do this.”

“You can,” Lottie says firmly. “And you will. But maybe you need to stop running long enough to let him show you how much he cares.”

As you lay down on Lottie’s spare bed that night, Niall’s message still glowing on your screen, you can’t help but wonder if she’s right.

...

The soft morning light filters through the curtains, and you stir awake in Lottie’s room, stretching against the unfamiliar sheets. A glance at the bedside table reveals your phone buzzing incessantly with notifications.

Groaning, you reach for it, only to see your lock screen flooded with mentions and retweets. Your stomach twists with unease as you swipe to unlock it.

Your heart sinks as you spot the culprit: Lottie’s tweet, sitting proudly at the top of your feed.

“Couldn’t be happier for these two❤️ Congrats to Mr. & Mrs. Horan! 🥂 #CoupleGoals”

Beneath the caption is a photo. You blink in surprise when you realize it’s from months ago—a candid of you working on Niall’s hair in the dressing room. You’re mid-concentration, a comb in one hand and a bottle of spray in the other, while Niall sits relaxed in the chair. But it’s not the act of you doing his hair that catches your attention—it’s the way Niall is looking at you.

His blue eyes are soft and adoring, the faintest hint of a smile playing on his lips, as though you’re the only person in the world. The sheer intensity of the expression makes your breath hitch.

“Lottie!” you exclaim, sitting up abruptly.

She groans from her bed, half-buried in pillows. “What?”

“This,” you say, holding up your phone. “What the hell is this?”

She cracks an eye open, smirking when she sees the screen. “Oh, that? Just a little public service announcement.”

You glare at her, your face heating. “A public announcement? Lottie, this is—”

“Beautiful,” she interrupts, sitting up and stretching. “It’s beautiful, and so is the way he looks at you in that photo. Don’t even try to deny it.”

Your protests falter as you glance at the picture again. The comments are filled with excitement and positivity:

“They’re so cute together!” “Honestly, this is the most wholesome thing I’ve seen all day.” “Niall looks like he’s totally smitten.”

A lump forms in your throat when you see that Harry has retweeted it with, “Finally. #TeamNiallAndY/N” Liam’s retweet simply reads, “Told you it was true love.”

Even Zayn, who rarely gets involved, has chimed in with a single heart emoji comment.

Your heart aches as you lower the phone, the reality of the situation settling heavily on your chest.

“I thought you wanted people to think the marriage is real,” Lottie teases, sitting cross-legged on her bed.

“This isn’t about that,” you mumble, clutching the phone.

“No,” she agrees, her tone softening. “This is about you finally realizing that maybe the rest of us aren’t crazy for thinking you two are perfect for each other.”

You don’t respond, staring down at the photo again. The way Niall looks at you is overwhelming, like he sees something in you that you can’t bring yourself to see in yourself.

“Do you hate it?” Lottie asks gently.

You shake your head slowly, your thumb brushing against the screen. “No. I don’t hate it.”

“Good,” she says with a smile. “Because neither does Niall.”

Your chest tightens as her words sink in, and for the first time, you wonder if maybe—just maybe—he’s right about you being enough.

The room feels quieter than usual as you gather your things from Lottie’s bed, trying to ignore the way your heart is fluttering at the thought of Niall. You’re grateful for the space you’ve had overnight, but now that it’s time to pack, you can’t help but feel the weight of the conversation still hanging between you. It’s been a difficult few days, but the photo Lottie posted earlier has somehow shifted something inside you. You can’t put your finger on it yet, but something feels different.

You take a deep breath and finish packing your bag, taking your time so you don’t have to face Niall just yet. You know you can’t keep avoiding him, but part of you is terrified of what will happen when you do finally face him.

When you walk into the hallway, you spot Niall just outside the door to your shared room. He’s standing with his hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie, looking down at his phone. His hair is messy, as if he’s just woken up, but there’s a smile playing at the corners of his mouth as soon as he spots you.

“Hey,” he greets, his voice warm and a little too hopeful for your liking. You feel your heart race, and you can tell he’s trying so hard to close the distance that’s been between you these past few days.

“Hey,” you reply quietly, avoiding his gaze as you make your way past him to the elevator. You feel the subtle pull of his presence, and though you don’t look at him, you can sense how close he’s standing.

He catches up to you before you can escape, placing a hand gently on your arm. “Listen, I wanted to talk,” he begins, but you cut him off before he can say anything more.

“I’m fine,” you mutter, still avoiding his eyes. “Just… let me get to the airport.”

Niall looks at you for a moment, his hand lingering on your arm as if he’s searching for something in your eyes. Then, with a deep sigh, he lets go and nods, his voice quieter than usual. “Okay, yeah. I just… I’m glad you’re back with us today.” He hesitates, as if trying to find the right words. “You’re coming with me and the boys on the jet today, by the way.”

You pause mid-step, confused. “What? I’m not—”

“You are,” he interrupts, smiling at the disbelief in your voice. “You’re flying with us. This time, it’s not commercial. I’ve been thinking about it, and I just… I want you around. I’m tired of not being able to see you.”

You blink, trying to process the change. You’ve always flown commercial with the crew, a quiet observer of the chaos that comes with touring. But now? Now, Niall’s pulling you into his world—his world with the boys, a private jet, and the kind of attention you’d never expected.

“I—Niall, I didn’t expect—”

He cuts you off with a gentle grin. “I know. But I’ve missed you, and I figured you deserved a little upgrade. You’ve been working so hard, and I just want you to be a part of everything. I don’t want you to be so far away.”

The sincerity in his eyes makes your chest tighten. “Niall, you don’t have to do this,” you say softly, still unsure of your place in all of this.

But Niall shakes his head. “I want to. I need you there, Y/N. You’ve been an important part of all of this for so long, and I don’t want to make you feel like an outsider.”

You’re caught in the warmth of his words, the weight of his care settling around you like a blanket. You open your mouth to respond, but the words catch in your throat. Instead, you nod, and that’s enough for Niall.

“Great,” he says, his smile widening. “It’s settled, then. I’m just happy you’ll be with us.”

He steps closer, brushing a hand over your shoulder briefly. The touch is gentle, filled with a tenderness that leaves you breathless. Niall’s always been this way—open, kind, and unafraid to show you how much you mean to him. But the way you’ve been pulling away has left a gap that you’re not sure how to close.

“Ready for the flight?” he asks as you walk together toward the door. “We’re gonna have a blast.”

You nod, but you can’t help the swirling uncertainty that still tugs at your insides. You know Niall’s trying to break down your walls, but your fears still hold you back. He may be right about how much he cares, but you’re still struggling to believe that you deserve it.

...

The private jet hums softly, the engines a steady purr beneath the gentle chatter of the boys. You sit next to Niall, the warmth of his hand wrapped around yours as he gently rubs soothing circles over your knuckles. The soft pressure of his touch helps ease some of the tension in your shoulders, though you still feel the storm brewing inside.

The boys are scattered around the cabin, talking easily amongst themselves. Harry and Liam are in the seats across from you, joking around with Zayn, who’s sitting by the window with his headphones on, looking like he’s trying to shut out the noise. Paul, ever the calming presence, is chatting with Louis at the back, but you can tell he’s observing everything with a quiet, watchful eye.

Even with all the noise and chaos of the tour life, it’s peaceful here. The small, intimate setting of the jet feels like a little world unto itself, one where it’s just you and them, removed from the constant spotlight. And for the first time in days, you let yourself breathe a little easier, the weight of everyone’s teasing and attention putting you at ease.

Liam, leans over and gives you a teasing smile. “So, is it official yet? You two going public or are we still keeping the mystery alive?” he says, his eyes flicking between you and Niall.

“Lottie already let the cat out of the bag,” Zayn adds with a smirk, nodding toward his phone. “Her tweet’s all over the place now. I’m surprised you two didn’t already do the big reveal.”

You look down at your hands, your stomach flipping. The tweet. The photo of you and Niall from months ago, when you were working on his hair in the dressing room, and the way Niall was looking at you in that moment… like you were the only person in the world. The comments were all filled with warmth and support, even from the boys. Still, you felt exposed, like something too private had slipped out into the world too soon.

Niall’s thumb traces your skin gently, grounding you in the present. “You okay?” he asks softly, his voice filled with concern as he notices your discomfort.

“Yeah,” you say quickly, trying to push away the unease, “just... a lot to take in.”

Harry leans forward, grinning. “The fans are loving it though. Lottie’s tweet got so many likes, it’s almost like she’s made you two official.”

“You two are the worst,” you mutter, giving them a small smile, though the teasing only heightens the feeling of everything being just a bit too real.

Niall chuckles beside you, but there’s a softness in his gaze when he meets your eyes. “I don’t care about the fans, love,” he says gently, his hand squeezing yours. “I just care about you.”

The sincerity in his voice makes your heart ache, but you can’t bring yourself to respond right away. Instead, you turn your head toward the window, trying to find something to focus on outside, anything to distract yourself from the weight of his words.

After a few minutes, Niall shifts a little, his voice low and a little hesitant. “I miss us,” he says quietly. “I miss the way we used to joke around, you know? You always kept me on my toes, and now... I feel like you’re pulling away.”

His words are like a gentle tug at your heart. You glance at him, meeting his blue eyes that are full of warmth but also a trace of concern. “I’m not pulling away,” you whisper, though even you can hear the uncertainty in your voice. “I just... I don’t know how to handle everything now that it’s... real.”

Niall leans in closer, his hand still holding yours. “What do you mean by that?”

You swallow, suddenly feeling very small under his gaze. You’re afraid to say it out loud, but the words spill from your lips before you can stop them. “It feels like... we’ve crossed a line, Niall. It’s not just fun and games anymore. It’s real. And I’m scared.”

He doesn’t say anything right away, just holds you in that steady gaze, his thumb continuing to trace circles on your skin as if he’s trying to calm the whirlwind inside of you.

“It’s always been real for me,” he says quietly. “But I get it. Things change when you stop pretending, when you stop playing around. But just ‘cause it’s real doesn’t mean it’s something to be afraid of. I’m not going anywhere, okay?”

You close your eyes, the warmth of his words sinking into you like a balm. You want to believe him, really, you do. But all the doubts that have plagued you still linger, and you’re not sure how to let them go.

The conversation is interrupted when Louis, who’s been watching the two of you with a mischievous grin, pipes up from the back. “I still don’t get why you two are so quiet. Just kiss already, for God’s sake. You’re making me uncomfortable!”

The boys all laugh, and even you can’t help but chuckle, though the laughter feels a little strained.

Niall grins at Louis, “You’re incorrigible,” he mutters, but his hand squeezes yours again, bringing you back to the quiet, intimate moment you’re sharing with him.

As the plane begins its descent, you find yourself looking at Niall in a new light—still scared, still unsure, but also hopeful in a way you haven’t been in a long time.

Maybe, just maybe, you’re ready to take a step forward.

...

The dressing room is buzzing with the usual chaos as the boys get ready for the night’s performance. Lottie is finishing up Liam’s hair while Harry cracks jokes with Zayn about their latest tour antics, and Louis pretends to choreograph a full-on dance routine in the corner. The atmosphere is lighthearted, the easy camaraderie that’s always existed between you, Lottie, and the boys filling the air once again.

You're moving between them, carefully applying makeup, adjusting hair, and adding finishing touches to their outfits. Your hands feel steady as you work, but you can’t ignore how much it means to be surrounded by all this laughter and warmth. Things feel more normal now, the distance between you and Niall beginning to melt away. You find yourself joking along with the boys, teasing them like you used to, and for the first time in what feels like ages, your heart feels lighter.

“I’m telling you, Louis,” you tease, “you’ve got the best moves out of anyone here. But, you know, the world’s not ready for all that talent just yet.”

Louis strikes a ridiculous pose, causing the entire room to burst into laughter. "You're just jealous,” he jokes, putting on an exaggerated pout.

You roll your eyes, and Zayn smirks, chiming in, “Someone better tell Louis he can’t dance in the front row during the show. It’s too distracting.”

The playful teasing continues, and in the middle of the laughter, Niall suddenly catches your eye from across the room. He’s sitting in the makeup chair, a content smile tugging at his lips as he watches the chaos around him.

You glance at him, a small smile of your own creeping up as you go back to touching up Harry’s hair. Niall’s expression softens, his eyes warming as he catches your gaze, the fondness in them unmistakable. You know the moment he speaks, his words will be full of that open, heartfelt honesty he’s always had.

“Oi,” Niall calls from his seat, his voice light but full of affection. “When are you gonna stop making everyone else look so good and give me some attention, eh? You’ve already got half of us looking like movie stars.”

You chuckle softly, shaking your head. “Someone’s feeling a little too confident today.”

Before you can say anything else, he pats the chair next to him. “Come here,” he says, but instead of waiting for you to sit, he reaches out, gently pulling you into his lap. It’s so natural, so easy, and you can’t help but melt into the warmth of his embrace. “I missed you.”

The words hit you harder than you expect, and you feel a rush of emotions you’ve been trying to avoid. You've been putting distance between you, but here he is—pulling you into his arms, not letting you pull away.

You hesitate for a moment, unsure of how to respond, but then you give in, leaning in to kiss him softly on the cheek. It's quick, but the tenderness of the moment makes your heart flutter.

“You alright?” Niall asks, his blue eyes locking onto yours. His voice is quiet, like he’s afraid to push you too much.

You nod quickly, offering a faint smile. “Yeah, just... it’s been a long day, you know?”

He nods in understanding, his hand resting lightly on your waist, keeping you close. For a moment, the noise and chaos of the room fade away, and it’s just the two of you in the space between the teasing and laughter.

Louis, noticing the exchange, gives you a mischievous grin, waggling his eyebrows. “Aww, look at that. Mrs. Horan making Niall blush,” he teases, causing everyone to pause and look your way.

Your breath catches, your cheeks flushing at the playful remark. But there’s no malice in it—just warmth, just lighthearted teasing. And you can’t help but smile, even though the idea of being “Mrs. Horan” feels foreign and suddenly so real.

“Stop it,” you mutter, feeling your heart race. “We’re just friends.”

Niall, ever open with his feelings, flashes you a playful grin and says, “Not for long, Mrs. Horan. You’ll see.”

The room bursts into laughter, but it's not mocking—it’s full of warmth and affection. The teasing doesn’t bother you, not anymore. For the first time, you let yourself enjoy the moment, the connection you share with Niall and the boys.

As the laughter dies down, Niall gets up to leave with the others, already heading toward the stage. Before he goes, he pulls you into a tight hug, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. His voice is low and sincere as he whispers, “See you out there. I’ll be looking for you.”

You watch him walk away, your hand instinctively going to the spot where his lips lingered, and your heart skips a beat. You’re not sure what the future holds, but for the first time in a long while, you feel hopeful.

Lottie catches your eye from across the room, a knowing smirk on her face. “You two,” she says softly, teasingly. “It’s so obvious, you know?”

You roll your eyes, but the smile tugging at your lips betrays the way your heart is fluttering. “Not a word,” you warn, though deep down, you’re starting to accept what’s been right in front of you all along.

...

The concert has ended, and the buzz of excitement is still thick in the air as everyone begins packing up. Roadies move efficiently, coiling wires and dismantling equipment, while the rest of the boys joke around and take selfies with crew members. You hang back near the edge of the stage, watching the scene unfold with a soft smile.

“You alright there, love?” Niall’s voice cuts through the hum of activity, gentle and warm.

You turn to find him standing a few feet away, his guitar slung casually over his shoulder. There’s something easy in his posture, like he belongs exactly where he is, but the glint in his eye is entirely focused on you.

“Yeah, just… soaking it all in,” you say, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“C’mere,” he says, nodding toward the center of the stage. “Stay with me for a bit.”

You hesitate, but the way he holds out his hand—steady, patient, and inviting—makes it impossible to say no. Slowly, you make your way toward him, your fingers brushing his as he helps you up onto the platform.

The stage feels vast and quiet now, the crowd long gone, the energy of the night lingering like a distant echo. Niall settles onto one of the stools left behind, patting the one beside him.

“Sit,” he says, his tone light but his eyes serious. “I’ve got somethin’ for you.”

You sit, curiosity flickering to life. “What are you up to, Horan?”

He grins, adjusting the guitar in his lap. “You’ll see.”

The first few chords are familiar, soft and aching, and as he begins to play, your heart skips a beat. It’s Irresistible.

His voice is low and smooth as he starts to sing, the words weaving through the air like a spell.

“Don’t try to make me stay, or ask if I’m okay

I don’t have the answer…”

There’s something different in the way he sings, something intimate, like each lyric is meant for you and no one else. You can’t help but watch him—his fingers dancing over the strings, the way his lashes cast soft shadows on his cheeks, the way his voice carries every ounce of emotion in his heart.

When he reaches the chorus, your breath catches.

“I find your lips so kissable

And your kiss unmissable

Your fingertips so touchable…”

His eyes meet yours, and for a moment, the world feels impossibly small, just the two of you in this vast, empty space. The words seem to hang in the air between you, heavy with meaning, and you wonder if he’s trying to tell you something he can’t quite say out loud.

“Niall,” you murmur as the song fades, your voice barely above a whisper.

He sets the guitar aside, leaning forward just slightly, his blue eyes searching yours. “Yeah?”

“That was… beautiful.” You can feel your cheeks warming under his gaze.

He shrugs, but there’s a softness in his smile. “Felt like the right song to play.”

Your stomach twists in a way that’s both thrilling and terrifying. “You sang that like it meant something,” you say, the words slipping out before you can stop them.

Niall doesn’t hesitate. “It does.”

The silence that follows is electric, charged with all the things neither of you is saying but both of you are feeling. His hand moves, just a little, brushing against yours where it rests on your knee. The touch is light but deliberate, and it sends a shiver down your spine.

“You’re irresistible, you know that?” he says softly, his voice dropping just enough to make your heart race.

You laugh nervously, trying to break the tension, but it doesn’t work. “You’re just saying that because I let you drag me up here.”

“No,” he says, shaking his head. “I’m saying it because it’s true. And I think… you’re startin’ to believe it too.”

The vulnerability in his words is disarming, and for the first time in a long time, you don’t feel the need to run from it. Instead, you let yourself lean into it, even just a little.

“Maybe,” you admit, your voice barely audible.

Niall’s smile grows, and for a moment, you think he might close the distance between you. But instead, he just leans back, picking up his guitar again.

“Alright, love. Your turn,” he says, strumming a playful chord.

You raise an eyebrow. “My turn for what?”

“Tell me your favorite song, and I’ll play it for you. Consider it my way of keepin’ you here a bit longer.”

You laugh, shaking your head, but you can’t help the way your heart swells. As you sit there, watching him wait for your answer, you realize that maybe—just maybe—you don’t mind staying.

“You & I.” You respond.

Niall tilts his head at your request, his brows raising slightly. “You & I? Proper classic that, isn’t it?”

You nod, biting your lip. “It’s one of my favorites. Please?”

His smile softens, and without another word, he adjusts the guitar in his lap and begins to play the familiar opening notes. The sound is achingly beautiful, filling the quiet stage with a gentle melody that feels like it’s wrapping around you both.

His voice, smooth and rich, carries the lyrics effortlessly.

“I figured it out

I figured it out from black and white

Seconds and hours

Maybe they had to take some time…”

The way he sings feels personal, each word dripping with quiet emotion, as if he’s speaking to you and you alone. His eyes flick up to meet yours occasionally, and every time they do, it feels like the floor beneath you shifts.

The boys, who had been lingering further back on the stage, grow quiet. Louis leans against a stack of amps, his arms crossed, a knowing smirk on his face. Harry nudges Liam, who just shakes his head with a soft smile, while Zayn raises an eyebrow at the scene unfolding.

“Would you look at that,” Louis whispers, pulling his phone out silently.

The camera clicks, capturing the image of you perched on the stool beside Niall, your expression a mix of awe and affection as you watch him sing. Niall’s focus is entirely on you, the guitar cradled in his hands as the stage lights cast a golden glow around you both. Louis grins, opening Twitter.

“Look at these two. My heart can’t take it. 🎶💙 #YouAndI #UnmissableMoments”

He hits post, shoving his phone back into his pocket as the song builds to its crescendo.

“You and I

We don’t wanna be like them

We can make it ’til the end

Nothing can come between

You and I…”

Niall’s voice is steady, strong, yet tender, and you can feel the emotion swell in your chest. By the time he reaches the final note, the room feels heavy with unspoken words.

The applause is soft but heartfelt as the boys clap quietly in the background. Niall gives a small, bashful smile, his fingers still resting on the strings.

“Didn’t butcher it, did I?” he teases, his voice low, a hint of nervousness lacing the question.

You shake your head, unable to stop the smile spreading across your face. “No. It was perfect.”

For a moment, you just look at him, the air thick with something unspoken. Your heart thuds loudly in your chest, and you’re almost certain he can hear it.

“Niall,” you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

He tilts his head, his eyes locking onto yours. “Yeah?”

“Kiss me.”

The words hang in the air for a moment, and you can see the surprise flash in his eyes. But it’s gone as quickly as it came, replaced by something deeper, warmer.

“You sure about that?” he asks, his voice gentle, his tone teasing just enough to make you smile.

You nod, your pulse quickening. “I’ve never been more sure.”

“Alright,” he murmurs, his voice low and steady. “C’mere.”

He shifts the guitar off his lap, placing it gently to the side. His hand moves to your cheek, the pad of his thumb grazing your skin in a way that sends a shiver through you. His touch is light, careful, like he’s afraid you might break if he holds on too tightly.

The world around you seems to fade, the faint hum of the stage lights the only sound as he leans in. Your breath catches when his lips brush yours, feather-light at first, testing, as though he’s giving you one last chance to pull away.

But you don’t.

You lean in, meeting him halfway, and the kiss deepens. His lips are soft and warm, moving against yours with a mix of confidence and tenderness that leaves your knees weak, even though you’re sitting down. His hand slides from your cheek to the back of your neck, his fingers threading through your hair as he pulls you just a little closer.

There’s no rush, no urgency. It’s slow, deliberate—like he’s savoring every second. The faint scent of his cologne lingers in the air, woodsy and fresh, mingling with the warmth radiating from his skin. His thumb strokes your neck absently, sending tiny sparks of electricity through you, and it feels as though he’s memorizing the moment, etching it into his bones.

Your heart pounds against your ribs, the rhythm echoing in your ears, but it’s not the frantic kind of beat you were expecting. It’s steady, like a quiet reassurance that this—whatever this is—is exactly where you’re meant to be.

When he finally pulls back, it’s gradual, like he’s reluctant to let the moment end. His forehead rests against yours, his breath warm against your lips as he lingers close. His thumb makes one final pass over your skin before his hand drops to your lap, where it stays, his fingers brushing lightly against yours.

For a moment, neither of you speak. The air between you hums with something unspoken, something fragile and new, and yet somehow ancient, like it’s always been there, waiting for you to find it.

“You alright?” he asks softly, his voice barely more than a whisper.

You nod, your lips curving into a faint smile. “Yeah. I’m good.”

He lets out a quiet chuckle, his thumb tracing idle circles over the back of your hand. “Good. That’s all I want.”

The stage feels impossibly small now, like the only two people in the world are you and him. You don’t know what this means—what happens next—but for the first time in a long time, you don’t feel the need to figure it out.

You lean back slightly, your gaze locked on his. “That song,” you murmur, your voice soft but steady. “It felt like you meant it for me.”

Niall smiles, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he squeezes your hand gently. “Maybe I did.”

Your chest tightens at the quiet honesty in his voice, but instead of retreating, you let it settle over you like a warm blanket.

For now, that’s enough.

…

The walk back to your shared hotel room is wrapped in a comfortable silence, the kind that doesn’t need to be filled with words. Niall stays close, his hand brushing against yours now and then, the occasional touch sending a flutter through your chest. The air is cool, but his presence beside you is a steady warmth, grounding you in the moment.

When you reach the room, you slip inside together, greeted by the soft amber glow of the bedside lamp. The room feels cozy, a quiet sanctuary from the emotions of the evening. You kick off your shoes and let out a deep sigh, the kind that comes from both relief and exhaustion.

Niall lingers by the bed, watching you with a small smile as you grab your pajamas and head into the bathroom. The mirror reflects a version of yourself you haven’t seen in a while—your cheeks have a faint flush, your eyes softer, lighter. There’s something there, a little glow you hadn’t expected, and it makes you pause.

When you emerge, changed into your soft cotton pajamas, Niall’s already under the covers. His hair is mussed, and the dim lighting casts a golden halo over his features. He looks so effortlessly himself, so inviting, that it takes no second thought for you to climb in beside him.

The bed is warm, and the moment you settle, Niall pulls you into his side, his arm wrapping securely around your waist. You rest your head on his chest, and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat greets you. It’s a soft, grounding sound, steady and constant like him.

“Long day,” he murmurs, his voice low and honeyed, the vibration of it resonating through his chest beneath your cheek.

You hum in agreement, nuzzling into him a little closer. His body radiates warmth, and the faint scent of his cologne—woodsy and clean—lingers on his shirt.

“You okay?” he asks softly, his hand beginning to move in slow, soothing circles over your back.

“Yeah,” you whisper, the word coming easier than you expected. “I think I am.”

A soft smile curves his lips. You feel it more than see it, his chin brushing lightly against the top of your head.

The quiet stretches out, comfortable and full of something unspoken but deeply understood. His fingers trace gentle patterns on your back—circles, swirls, lazy lines that melt the last bits of tension from your body. The motion is hypnotic, your muscles relaxing one by one as you sink deeper into the warmth of him.

He shifts slightly, just enough to press his lips to your forehead. The kiss is feather-light, but it’s enough to send a wave of warmth through you, pooling low in your chest.

“I meant it,” he murmurs, his voice a soft rasp in the quiet room. “I’ll wait as long as you need. No rush. No pressure. Just… us.”

His words settle over you like a blanket, warm and reassuring. You shift against him, your nose brushing the curve of his neck as you let out a quiet, contented sigh.

“Thank you,” you mumble sleepily, your voice barely audible against his skin.

His hand pauses on your back for a moment before resuming its slow, rhythmic movements. “Always,” he whispers, his breath warm against your hair.

He tugs the blanket higher around you both, cocooning you in the shared warmth of the bed. His fingers trace over your shoulder now, up to your collarbone, and back down again in a soothing, lulling rhythm. The sound of his breathing, steady and calm, blends with the faint hum of the city outside, and you let yourself relax fully, cocooned in his care.

As sleep pulls you under, you feel his lips brush your temple one last time, a quiet promise etched into the night. And for the first time in what feels like forever, you let yourself believe in the safety of this moment, in the warmth of him, and in the possibility of something beautiful waiting just ahead.

...

The morning light filters softly through the curtains, bathing the hotel room in a warm, golden glow. You wake slowly, your senses gradually piecing the world together—the crisp scent of the linens, the weight of the blanket over you, and the steady rise and fall of Niall’s chest beneath your cheek.

His arm is still draped around you, holding you close even in sleep. His face is serene, every line and feature softened by the quiet vulnerability of slumber. His lashes rest against his cheek, and his lips are slightly parted, his breath slow and even.

You don’t move at first, content to simply watch him, the peace of the moment wrapping around you like a second blanket. But as your gaze lingers, an ache stirs in your chest—a deep, quiet longing that feels equal parts terrifying and wonderful.

Before you can think too much about it, your hand moves on its own, reaching out to gently trace the curve of his jaw. Your fingers barely skim his skin, hesitant at first, but the warmth of him pulls you in. You let your thumb glide over the rough stubble on his chin, the texture grounding you in the reality of him.

He stirs under your touch, a soft sound escaping his lips as his eyes flutter open. For a moment, he looks disoriented, his gaze hazy as it settles on you. But then he sees the way you’re looking at him, and a soft, sleepy smile curves his lips.

“Morning,” he murmurs, his voice thick with sleep, the Irish lilt more pronounced in its drowsiness.

“Morning,” you whisper back, your fingers stilling on his cheek.

He shifts slightly, his arm tightening around your waist as he blinks himself further awake. His gaze searches yours, his eyes warm and curious. “What are you doing?”

“Just… looking at you,” you admit, your voice quieter than usual, as though the moment might shatter if you speak too loudly.

His smile grows, softer and more genuine, and he turns his head slightly so your palm rests fully against his cheek. He leans into your touch, his eyes never leaving yours. “Like what you see?” he teases gently, though there’s an undercurrent of sincerity in his tone.

You nod, the weight of your emotions catching in your throat for a moment before you manage to speak. “Yeah. I do.”

His expression shifts then, his teasing giving way to something deeper, something quieter. His free hand comes up to cover yours, holding it against his face as he watches you, waiting.

“I’ve been thinking,” you start, your voice soft but steady. “About everything. About you and me and…” You trail off, searching for the right words.

“And?” he prompts, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in a soothing gesture.

“I’m ready,” you say, the words tumbling out in a rush. “I’m ready to really try with you. A real relationship—not just this… married-on-paper thing we’ve got going.”

His breath hitches slightly, his eyes widening just a fraction. For a moment, he doesn’t say anything, and your heart starts to race. But then his lips part, and his voice comes out soft, almost disbelieving.

“You mean that?”

“I mean it,” you say, your hand pressing a little firmer against his cheek. “I’m scared, but I don’t want to be anymore. I want this. I want you.”

The smile that spreads across his face is slow and radiant, like the sun breaking through a storm. He shifts, propping himself up slightly so he can look at you properly, his hands framing your face now.

“You’ve no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear that,” he says, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ll take it slow. However you need. I’ll do whatever it takes to make you feel safe with me.”

“You already do,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

Niall’s gaze flickers down to your lips, and the air between you grows thick with an unspoken tension. His hands remain gentle on your face, his thumbs brushing over your skin as though you’re something precious. You don’t know who moves first, but suddenly, your lips meet in a kiss that starts soft and sweet but deepens quickly.

It’s a release, a culmination of all the quiet moments and tentative steps between you. His lips are warm and soft, and the way he kisses you is unhurried, like he’s savoring every second. You sigh into it, your hands sliding from his face into his hair, tangling in the messy blond strands as he shifts to pull you closer.

When his arms wrap around your waist, you take the opportunity to move, pushing yourself onto your knees and leaning over him. He lets out a soft, surprised laugh against your lips as you settle yourself on top of him, straddling his lap, but it’s quickly swallowed by another kiss.

“Niall,” you murmur between breaths, your forehead resting against his for a moment.

“Yeah, love?” he whispers, his voice low and gravelly, his hands steadying you at your waist.

“You’re…” You pause, trying to find the words, but instead of finishing the sentence, you kiss him again, pouring every ounce of feeling you can’t quite articulate into the way your lips move against his.

The room is alive with tension as you straddle Niall, your legs on either side of his hips, his hands warm and firm on your waist. His touch lingers, teasingly possessive, as though he’s making up for years of restraint all in one moment. Your lips meet again, a fire igniting between you that has you completely consumed.

His kisses are deep, unrelenting, and filled with everything unsaid between you. His tongue brushes against yours in a way that has your breath hitching, your fingers tangling in his hair as if anchoring yourself to this moment. His stubble grazes your skin as his lips move to your jawline, then trail down the column of your neck, leaving a path of warmth that makes you shiver.

“Niall,” you murmur, your voice soft but laden with need.

He groans at the sound of his name, his grip on your waist tightening as his lips return to yours. “I’ve dreamed about this,” he whispers against your mouth, his breath warm and uneven. “Every damn day.”

You smile against his lips, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “So have I,” you admit, the honesty spilling out of you as naturally as your next kiss.

His hands move to your back, his touch slow and deliberate as he presses you closer, your bodies flush against one another. The heat between you is electric, every small movement fanning the flames of desire that have been building for far too long.

You shift slightly, your thighs tightening around him as his hands slide beneath your shirt, his touch searing against your bare skin. The intimacy of it, the sheer closeness, makes your heart race.

But you’re so lost in each other—so completely consumed—that neither of you hears the faint creak of the door opening.

“Oi, seriously?”

The familiar voice has you freezing mid-kiss, your eyes flying open as you turn toward the doorway. Standing there, arms crossed with an expression that can only be described as both amused and exasperated, is Louis.

“Oh my God,” you mutter, quickly burying your face in Niall’s shoulder as mortification floods through you.

Niall lets out a low groan, his hands still resting on your hips as he turns his head toward Louis. “Really, mate? Timing’s impeccable.”

Louis raises a brow, his lips twitching as if he’s holding back a grin. “Well, excuse me for trying to check if you two were alive. Didn’t realize I’d walked into... that.”

Your cheeks burn, and you try to move off Niall’s lap, but his hands hold you firmly in place. “Don’t,” he murmurs softly, his voice low enough that only you can hear. “It’s okay.”

Louis, however, is already pulling his phone out of his pocket, a mischievous gleam in his eye. “I mean, I could just leave...” he starts, but the way his thumb hovers over the screen makes it clear he’s not going anywhere.

“Louis,” Niall warns, his tone a mix of irritation and amusement.

“What?” Louis says, feigning innocence as he snaps a photo. “For posterity.”

“Delete that!” you exclaim, finally finding your voice as you glare at him from over Niall’s shoulder.

Louis smirks. “Too late. Already in the cloud.” He pockets his phone with a shrug before turning toward the door. “Don’t take too long. The lads are placing bets on how red your faces are when you finally come out.”

With that, he disappears, leaving you and Niall in stunned silence.

After a beat, Niall chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest beneath you. “Well, that’s one way to break the tension.”

You groan, burying your face in your hands. “I’m never leaving this room again.”

He gently tugs your hands away, his eyes soft as they meet yours. “Hey,” he says, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “I don’t care who knows. Let them tease all they want. I’m right where I want to be.”

Your heart swells at his words, and despite your embarrassment, you lean in to kiss him again—soft, slow, and filled with the promise of everything still to come.

Niall’s fingers linger on your waist as you slide off his lap, both of you still breathless and flushed. His lips are swollen from your kisses, and the look in his eyes is a mix of heat and tenderness. He grins, his voice low and teasing as he murmurs, “Guess we’ll call this... to be continued, yeah?”

You laugh softly, brushing a hand over his chest. “Definitely to be continued.”

Niall leans down, pressing a slow kiss to your forehead before pulling you close, his hands warm on your back. “We should head downstairs before Louis sends a search party—and probably a few humiliating tweets.”

You groan, already dreading what awaits. “He already took that photo. What else could he possibly do?”

Niall chuckles, grabbing your hand as he opens the door. “Love, it’s Louis. He’ll have spun an entire story by now.”

The two of you make your way to the hotel dining area, the sound of laughter hitting your ears before you even step inside. As you round the corner, the boys and Lottie are already gathered at a table, plates of food spread out, the atmosphere lively. But the moment you and Niall walk in, the room falls silent.

“Well, well, well,” Louis starts, standing dramatically as if presenting the two of you to an imaginary audience. “Look who finally decided to grace us with their presence!”

“Oh no,” you mutter under your breath, already bracing yourself.

Louis picks up his phone from the table, holding it up like a trophy. “For those of you who missed it—and by that, I mean no one, because this photo’s gone viral—behold!”

He turns the screen toward you and Niall. It’s the blurry photo he took upstairs, the one of you straddling Niall on the bed, his hands firmly on your hips, your faces just inches apart.

“Oh my god, Louis!” You cover your face with your hands, mortified.

Lottie bursts into laughter, nearly choking on her orange juice. “Louis, you are the worst, but also, this is incredible.”

“I mean, if this isn’t a wedding night moment,” Louis says, smirking as he puts his phone back down, “then I don’t know what is.”

“Delete it,” Niall says, though he’s clearly amused, his arm slipping casually around your waist.

“Absolutely not,” Louis fires back, leaning back in his chair. “It’s art. The world deserves to see it.”

Harry, sitting across the table, grins as he sips his coffee. “Honestly, though, we were all wondering how long it’d take you two. Years of pining, and then you go and get married before anything happens?”

Liam shakes his head, a teasing sigh escaping his lips. “Seriously. You two could’ve saved us all the trouble by just admitting it back in the day.”

“It’s about time,” Zayn adds, his tone cool but the glint in his eyes giving him away. “The tension was unbearable.”

“And exhausting,” Lottie chimes in, her smile genuine as she looks between the two of you. “But honestly, I’m just happy you’re finally happy. It’s about damn time.”

Niall squeezes your waist gently, pulling you closer as he presses a quick kiss to your temple. “For the record,” he says, glancing at the group, “we’ve decided to start a real relationship. Officially.”

There’s a beat of silence before Louis dramatically claps his hands together. “Finally! Took you long enough! Honestly, I was about to write the vows myself.”

“You would write the vows,” you say, rolling your eyes but laughing despite yourself.

“Better me than Niall,” Louis quips. “He’d just sing them to you.”

“Not a bad idea,” Harry says, grinning. “Actually, Niall, got anything prepared? A little ‘She’s the One’ serenade for the table?”

“Alright, alright, enough,” Niall says, laughing as he pulls out your chair for you. He sits beside you, his hand staying firmly on your knee under the table. “Let the lady eat in peace.”

“Fine,” Louis says, a sly grin on his face. “But just so you know, this isn’t the last you’ve heard of it.”

Breakfast continues in the same lighthearted tone, with jokes flying across the table and occasional references to the infamous photo. But through it all, Niall stays close, his touches gentle and constant—his hand brushing against yours, his knee bumping yours under the table.

And for the first time in a long time, surrounded by laughter and warmth, you feel truly at ease. It’s as if the walls you built around yourself are finally crumbling, and you realise you don’t mind one bit.