#she is always on his mind and in his heart
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samah-h · 1 day ago
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A Confession from the Heart of Suffering: An Unbearable Reality
I hope you read my confession, and thank you. This is the reality of all the people of Gaza.
Whenever I think of the life we used to have before the genocide, I have to struggle to hold my tears so I don't cause my children more pain than what they already feel. Our life, then, was neither easy nor perfect but it was full of warmth and the simple joy of being together under one roof .
We have never felt completely free because we have always been under a siege that has only gotten worse during this war but at least we felt somewhat safe and we had quite a decent life with the means that we were allowed.What kept us going was our belief that the future might be brighter one day.
Unfortunately, there seems to be no better tomorrow for us anymore. Nothing remains of our previous lives but rubble and memories, and the future is so bleak and full of uncertainties.It's not just the walls of our house that were turned into ruins, it's our hopes and dreams that were reduced to ashes. Now, we only dream of things that might seem so trivial to other people around the world like being able to sleep in and wake up in a comfortable bed or having a meal without standing for it in line for hours.
We dream of having enough clean drinking water so we don't have to worry about dying of thirst. We dream of the days we had a home with a regular kitchen and stove, the days we could celebrate special occasions with family in peace. Above all, we dream of not losing the people we love in a split second and of living safely and with dignity.
Instead, we have been wrongfully sentenced to a life of fear, displacement, and humiliation beyond belief. It is a living nightmare here now. Everything needed to ensure the bare minimum of decency and normalcy is denied to us. As you well know, there is no safe place in Gaza anymore and We are deprived of simple rights like having having a roof over our heads or enjoying some peace of mind for even one single day. The airstrikes and the buzzing of drones almost never stop. We live with a very real sense of impending doom day and night.
The water and food scarcity are only getting worse with time. Even regular chores like cooking or doing the laundry have become true challenges. I cannot propely bathe my children because the little water we get is polluted and their sensitive baby skin keeps getting irritated.
Before the war, my nine- year-old daughter was so picky about which outfits to wear; it made me laugh that she acted that way at her age but now we don't even have enough warm clothes for the winter. It kills me each time she says she doesn't need fancy clothes anymore and only wants to feel warm and go back to school. What makes it worse is our tent has recently been flooded by rain.
The whole camp turned into a swamp overnight. The children woke up soaked, shivering and terrified. It was almost impossible to calm them down as the rain kept pouring. We are doing our best but even if we succeed in finding the treatment, it's going to cost almost a fortune. This is why we need your support even more now.
All we do now is fight for survival every day. I never imagined,even in my darkest nightmares, that I would be searching high and low to put food in my children's mouths and keep them warm or that I would be begging the world to literally save their lives but I have no other choice now.
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Despite the unbearable suffering we're daily going through, I still believe in humanity. please keep us in your prayers and help us anyway you can. Donate if you're able to,reblog and share our story as widely as you can.We are grateful to each and every one of you
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dissapointu · 2 days ago
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Thinking about Arcane with a partner who is terminally ill and has to stay in bed hooked up to a bunch of needles and tubes
Thank you for all your work you are amazing <3
Thank you so much for your kind words!
I swear we are allergic to happiness-
Jinx
Jinx hides her pain behind manic energy, trying to make you smile even when it feels like her heart is shattering. She brings you handmade gadgets, some of which are purely for fun—tiny robots that dance or explode into colorful sparks, filling the room with chaos and laughter. But when the exhaustion hits, she curls up beside your bed, her fingers tracing the tubes and needles with a quiet reverence. In those moments, her vulnerability surfaces, and she whispers about her fears of losing you.
Vi
Vi hates feeling powerless, and seeing you like this is her worst nightmare. She refuses to leave your side, bringing you books and stories of her past to keep your mind off the pain. Her hands are always gentle when adjusting your blanket or holding yours, but her emotions often spill over. When no one else is around, she breaks down, pressing her forehead against your arm, her tears soaking into the fabric as she begs you to hold on just a little longer.
Sevika
Sevika is practical, channeling her pain into action. She spends hours ensuring you’re as comfortable as possible, fixing equipment when it malfunctions and running errands for anything you need. At night, when she thinks you’re asleep, she sits by your bed, nursing a drink and talking to you like everything’s normal—about work, about Zaun, about how much she admires your strength. If you catch her in a rare moment of vulnerability, she’ll brush it off, saying, “You’re the tough one here, not me.”
Silco
Silco is a man of control, and your condition reminds him of his helplessness. He spares no expense in seeking the best care for you, but he’s always haunted by the sight of you so frail. His visits are quiet but full of unspoken devotion—he reads reports aloud, his voice calm and steady, though his eyes flicker to your face more often than the papers. Late at night, when no one else is around, he gently brushes your hair back and murmurs promises he knows he might not be able to keep.
Vander
Vander is a steady presence, his warmth grounding you even in your worst moments. He sits by your bed, holding your hand as he tells you stories from his youth or hums a soothing tune. He often brings the children by to cheer you up, their laughter filling the room. Vander tries to stay strong for you, but his hands tremble when he thinks you’re not looking. His love is unwavering, and he’ll remind you every day how much you mean to him.
Ekko
Ekko struggles with the weight of seeing you like this, but he refuses to let despair take over. He spends his time crafting small inventions to make your life easier or bring a smile to your face. When the silence becomes too much, he talks about his dreams for the future, painting vivid pictures of what could be. He clings to hope, even when it feels fragile, and does everything in his power to make sure you know you’re not alone.
Jayce
Jayce throws himself into researching treatments, convinced he can find a way to help you. When he’s not in the lab, he’s by your side, his hand resting over yours as he explains his latest breakthroughs or reminisces about the moments you’ve shared. He hides his fear behind his optimism, but when you tell him it’s okay to let go of the facade, he breaks down, resting his head on your shoulder and letting his tears fall freely.
Viktor
Viktor is no stranger to pain and illness, and he understands your struggles on a deeply personal level. He spends hours at your bedside, quietly tinkering with gadgets or reading aloud from books he thinks you’ll enjoy. His touch is gentle, his words soft, and his presence unwavering. He hates that he can’t fix this, but he makes sure you never feel alone, offering comfort in the form of quiet companionship and shared understanding.
Caitlyn
Caitlyn is your pillar of strength, calm and composed even when her heart is breaking. She works tirelessly to ensure you have the best care, pulling strings and calling in favors to get you what you need. She’s a constant presence, her hand often resting on yours as she talks about the world outside. When she’s overwhelmed, she steps outside for a moment to compose herself, returning with a renewed determination to make the time you have left as meaningful as possible.
Mel Medarda
Mel is a force of grace and composure, but your condition shakes her to her core. She fills your room with beauty—art, flowers, and soft fabrics—to make your space a sanctuary. She sits with you for hours, her voice soothing as she shares stories from her childhood or discusses philosophy and politics. Her mask only slips in the quiet moments, her hand lingering on yours as she murmurs about how much she loves you, her eyes shining with unshed tears.
Ambessa Medarda
Ambessa is not one to show weakness, but your illness makes her feel a vulnerability she hasn’t known in years. She takes charge of your care, ensuring you’re surrounded by the best physicians and resources. Though her visits are often brief, they’re filled with quiet intensity. She sits by your bed, her large hand covering yours as she promises to protect you, her voice steady even as her heart aches.
Maddie Nolen
Maddie is practical and nurturing, spending her days by your side to ensure you’re comfortable and cared for. She’s always quick with a joke or a story to lift your spirits, her warmth a balm against the cold reality of your condition. But when the laughter fades and the room grows quiet, she leans her head against your shoulder, her voice soft as she tells you how much you mean to her, her heart aching with every word.
Lest
Lest hates seeing you like this, but she channels her emotions into quiet devotion. She watches over you like a guardian, her sharp eyes scanning every tube and needle to ensure everything is in order. She often sits beside your bed, her tail curling around her legs as she talks about the world outside, filling the silence with her soothing voice. When you catch her staring at you with a mix of love and sorrow, she quickly looks away, her ears twitching, but her hand remains firmly in yours.
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jambalaya-enthusiast · 2 days ago
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Can I ask for Headcanons/Scenario with the crew members where it's a normal tulpar haul. But the reader is an extremely experienced captain of another ship,and they're older,more built and more strict. Like think 6'7,built like an extreme weightlifter,very classy and formal.
And they're on the tulpar to look after everything because it's an incredibly important shipment? What would the crew members reactions be to the reader appearing very strict,no-nonsense,cold and condescending. But once they get close, the reader is actually very nice.
also can it be a male reader? Thank you! I love your writing. <3
Melting the Ice away.
Crew Members x Male! Older! Strict! Reader. [ Reader is a high ranking captain of another pony express ship ]
a/n; this ask was basically buried deep in my inbox,i was just scrolling through and found it.
Tulpar! Captain,Curly.
Oh boy,and they used to say that curly was the most able employee at pony express. Clearly they lied,Cause LOOK. AT. YOU.
For the first time in his career,he felt intimidated.
The way you basically hovered over him,gave him chills ngl.
He admires you so fucking hard, your efficiency ,your capability, and your experienced nature. you need something? Grant Curly is on it!... He found himself trying to... Impress you???
He was basically always looking for your approval at things,no matter how small or trivial it was. He needed your opinion.
He was also starting to wonder wether or not the feeling of intimidation... was rather something else.
He is definitely feelin a lil somethin somethin.
When he actually got to know you,and saw how kind and sweet you actually were. This guy just fell,he fell guys,he just fell.
Co-Pilot, Jimmy.
Manz is PISSED.
He is freaking LIVID,as if Curly wasn't already enough,bossing him around.
He'll never ever admit it to anyone,but he was basically scared of you,of how... Domineering you were.
He is jealous of how put together you were,always effortlessly classy.
He couldn't decide whether he wanted to be you,or wanted to be with you.
He didn't even notice it,but you found him staring,so intently that it actually concerned you.
Whenever you would try to interact with him he'll make up an excuse and run away.
But he,too wanted to get on your good side.
He'll die before ever admitting it,but he was craving your praise so fucking bad.
He is just dying on the inside,he desperately wants to hear you call him a 'Good Boy'.
Maybe he'll have to impress you some other way,who knows?
Nurse, Anya.
Let's be fr,the first time Anya saw you,her heart skipped a bit. I mean c'mon! Can you blame her? She doesn't see handsome, capable, disciplined male colleagues on the regular,does she?
Cut her some slack for staring! She can't help herself for wanting to admire you!
Like the others,she also tries her best to live up to your expectations,to be on your good list. She tries to make sure all your needs are met,(which aren't even bothersome,you prefer to do things your own anyway) but she always insists upon helping you out!
You began to notice that no matter who else wasn't around,Anya was always there in the corner of your eye. Was she... Following you around?
By Gods,she can't help it! No other person on the ship is as pleasant to be around as you! She feels at ease when she's with you. And you don't mind.
When she finally gets to know the real you, the butterflies in her stomach settle down into something even more soothing and calming.
Her puppy crush is beginning to grow,maybe someday in the near future, she'll ask you for things, beyond the professional limit.
Mechanic, Swansea.
He is just glad that there is someone on this godforsaken ship who has the screws in their head straight.
He does feel a bit relaxed that he doesn't have to worry about things going wrong with you onboard.
He sometimes has you deal with Daisuke instead. More relaxation time for him.
He can count on you. And he likes you the best on the ship.
Doesn't shy away from praising you in front of others.
Intern,Daisuke.
"WOWZER MISTER YOU'RE SO COOL!".
He was a bit scared of you at first,but quickly warmed up to how refreshing you were.
You were strict,yes. But not as much as Swansea. You never scolded him,or complained about him to others.
Instead you always, efficiently taught him how to do things properly.
The way you spoke,the way you presented yourself. He didn't find it strange how his other, older, colleagues were swooning over you either.
Grew to like you the best on the ship as well,always right by your side.
He does think you're hot,but is intimidated pretty easily.
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c0n-fus3d · 2 days ago
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𝚂𝚑𝚎 𝙻𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝙰 𝙱𝚘𝚢.
(Older!Powder x fem!reader)
I'm sorry but I finished ep 1 of act 3 and had to write this to get my emotions out about ekko and powder being a thing in an alternative reality bcz just RAHHHFHSHEHSHHS my gay ass is crying (no offense to the timebomb shippers, you do you!! If you like this that's cool💪💪) ENGLISH ISN'T MY NATIVE LANGUAGE, IF I MADE SOME SPELLING MISTAKES I'M SORRY ALSO SPOILERS FOR ACT 3!!
Warnings: uhhh just angst, mostly angst, this is for my girlies who might be feeling the same
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༺ღ༒ ༺ღ༒ ༺ღ༒ ༒ღ༻
You've always liked Powder, every since you were kids, and still when you are teenagers.
Their was always something about her. The way she made the most creative inventions, the way she always seemed to have some sort of spark in her eyes. Her laugh, her hair, her eyes, it's hard for you to explain the feelings you have towards her.
You knew the way Vi's death was heavy on her, you could see that with the days, and soon years that came after. You we're always trying to be there to support her, make her feel a little better. You gave her space when she needed it, and we're there for her when she needed you the most.
And then there was Ekko.
You never hated Ekko, you 𝙙𝙤𝙣'𝙩 hate Ekko. he was a good guy, you got along with him. He was around Powder nearly just as much as you we're, maybe even a little more. When you were around Powder, he wouldn't take long to show up as well. You didn't mind.
But you couldn't deny that you we're jealous of him, of Ekko. The way he charmed his way into Powder's heart over the years. With his sketches, ideas, personality, kindness and understanding. You wanted what him and Powder had as if what you already had wasn't enough for you. You could see the way she looked at him, how 𝙝𝙚 looked at her the same way.
You often wished it was you instead of him. You try to forget about your jealousy, push it asside. You try to push your jealousy and selfishness asside, keep everything natural between you three. But it got harder and harder the more time went on.
Ekko has been acting strange recently, or at least that's what Powder told you. How he 'seems not to remember anything' and how he says these things about how in a dream her and Vi we're completely different. You noticed yourself too, how he was more around then usual. You assumed it was because of his project or whatever.
Now you find yourself here, on the dance floor in the last drop. Inventions around you everywhere as music and colorful lights fill the bar. You look into the crowd, trying to spot Powder. It took you a whole 5 minutes to finally spot her, but to no suprise, Ekko was there. On the dance floor, with her. Dancing together to the beat of the music like it was just the two of them. You tried to move your eyes away from the sight, let them be happy and together. But the jealousy ate you from the inside out, this all just left a bitter taste on your tongue. It all got so overwhelming so quickly, so you decide to leave the place before you explode and do something stupid.
So you decide to go out to Powder's little Hideout for now and go back once you've cooled down. You look at the massive invention across the room, stunned as fuck how they made this. You don't want to pay too much attention to it though, so you continue walking through the massive space before sitting down in front of the small memorial that Powder made for Vi.
You lighten the place up before just.. Sitting there. You sigh, looking at the picture sat on the desk. Vi always knew you had a thing for Powder, she always encouraged you to tell her how you felt. Whenever the situation was on your mind, you'd go here. You'd talk, like she was still there. Because to you, she was. To everyone, she still was. Now wasn't any different, you talked about what has been going on recently. With Ekko, Powder, and everything else.
"I just.. Don't know what to do, I know I'm supposed to be happy for them.. Ekko is a great guy, a-and if they become a thing, I'll be fine with it but.. Theirs this voice in the back of my mind that just doesn't seem to go away.." You groan, your head in your hands as you thought for a moment.
You knew you couldn't hide your feelings forever. If Powder wasn't going to feel the same way towards you, you might as well tell her what you've been feeling all this time. Just for an answer, a yes or a no. Anything. If she didn't feel anything as well then at least she'd know.
"I'll tell her, tonight. Like you always wanted me to do.. I'll.. I'll get this over with, okay? For you."
You found yourself walking back towards the last drop, but then you see Powder, going in the direction of what you knew to be the place where Vi always took her to. So you decided to follow.
If only you weren't blind enough to see Ekko walking along with her.
You climbed up to the place, heart racing in your chest as you tried to think about the things you could say. Your mind was running a million miles and you tried desperately to calm your nerves.
You we're finally gonna do it, you we're gonna tell her how you feel.
But just as you nearly reach the top, you see her. And Ekko.
Their kissing.
In front of your eyes.
Your heart dropped, hope that you knew was useless in the end shattered as you saw the image.
Wrong fucking timing. You stood there, frozen in time before quickly getting out of there. Trying to hold back the tears that we're threatening to fall.
She likes Ekko. She only likes Ekko. It was never you. Not in childhood, not in teenage years.
She likes a boy. That boy.
Your not that boy, and for now, you had to live with that.
You we're never going to being the one kissing her. It was always going to be him in the end.
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msfantasy-anime · 3 days ago
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PDA
Various BNHA x Softgirl!Reader
Summary: a short headcannon on Y/n who is usually shy, expressing PDA to her boyfriend.
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You don’t even know them, but as you stand in your friends house party, you couldn’t help but watch a young couple, where the woman is smiling so sweetly up at her boyfriend, as he returns his loving gaze. The two continue to embrace each-other as he lightly grazes her lower back. So enraptured by each other, they clearly have detached from reality as they are lost in each others arms. The sea of people continue to move around them, but the couple pay no mind to the social chaos around them. They are lost in each others eyes, silently conversing their emotions wordlessly.
The intensity of their passions leave you longing. Why don’t you have that with you boyfriend?
You wished greatly that someone in the crowd would look at you and your boyfriend, and see your love so vividly.
You and your boyfriend have been dating for years at this point and people still ask if your dating or act surprise to hear your still going strong.
A pang of longing hits your heart.
You yearn deeply to feel and show off that level of passion. But what’s preventing you?
In a moment of inebriated courage, your on a mission to find your boyfriend. There you spot him standing amongst a circle of men, conversing.
Walking up behind your boyfriend and tugging at the elbow of his jacket.
Seeing your determined eyes, he tilts his head down, moving his ear closer to hear you better. But instead of uttering a single word, your rock onto your toes and press your lips to his cold cheek. Making him…
Izuku Midoriya
Blush and chuckles from your unexpected affection.
He’s not embarrassed, and he pays no mind to anyone else at this moment.
His darling girlfriend is giving him PDA, something she’s never initiated.
And something Izuku made sure never to do, as to not put you in an uncomfortable position.
But right now, looking down at your cute face filled with glaring determination.
His heart can’t help but swell at your unyielding cuteness.
Izuku: “Do you feel like going?”
Katsuki Bakugo
He looks at you expressionless.
His lips parted as he holds a hand to his recently kissed cheek.
His mind goes blank before a flood of thoughts swirl through his head.
Furiously blushing Katsuki turns as red as a street light.
Katsuki: “Eh-what the hell was that for?!”
He’s acting as if you slapped him.
His embarrassment radiating off him.
Why the hell are you going around kissing him in public for?!
Katsuki: “Come ‘ere brat, you and I are gonna have a talk about public decency!”
He proceeds to lecture you outside of the house, where there are no prying ears.
Katsuki: “Damnit brat! You can’t going around kissing me in front of these losers! That’s private, ya’know.”
Eijiro Kirishima
Smile softly at your sweet gesture.
You’ve always been shy about PDA with him, so he’s a little caught off guard by your actions.
Kirishima: “Common- let’s go home yeah?”
Shota Aizawa
Continue standing there indifferently.
He take another slurp of his drink as he looks down at you watching your face distort from determination to reassignment.
His silly girlfriend is looking so cute.
He’s kinda curious to know what this was all about… but then again… he wants to see what else you’ll do.
Hizashi Yamada
Shout in surprise.
Hizashi: “WOW!”
Hizashi’s very vocal reaction causes a few to break conversation and look over to the two of you to see what’s going on.
You immediately regret everything as Hizashi begins to loudly praise your cuteness.
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animezinglife · 3 days ago
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Spot the writer. Exquisitely put. :)
"Solavellan is, if I’m being entirely honest, the most compelling romance from a story angle."
I could not agree more, and it is also the only route I believe they could've taken the canon story. I would argue that they're the obvious canon choice (to the point I have never actually finished a Trespasser run with Trevelyan...and don't plan to).
I've said it before, and I'll say it again: Lavellan is the only Inquisitor who significantly changes the story of the Dread Wolf. If our story is to continue and intertwine with his, she must be the canon one.
Not Trevelyan.
Not Cadash.
Not Adaar.
It must be Lavellan. The strongest story where Solas is concerned is the one of Fen'harel and his vhenan.
A friend can open his mind to some degree. A friend can make him see that perhaps he doesn't truly understand humans, dwarves, or Qunari after all, and a friend can be someone he always respects and values.
A friend does not turn his entire world and reality upside down. She doesn't shake him to his core and leave a god of lies with gaping wound of the heart.
A twisted, damning truth.
A Lavellan who romanced Solas is his heart. His vhenan, and whatever tether he has to some semblance of humanity (for lack of a better term). Some semblance of a nature that hasn't been corrupted, and something beyond pride, tricks, power, and lies...and yet, she makes him selfish in another way entirely. Likely a way he had forgotten was possible.
She makes him want.
She makes him Solas. Something other than all he's become and who he feels he must be.
Lavellan is a part of him he can neither ignore nor control. He falters. He forgets himself. He nearly tells her everything that night in Crestwood and forsakes himself in the process.
No other Inquisitor has that power or influence over him. It is only—and only can be—Lavellan.
She's both the means to his ruination and salvation. She is the catalyst for any potential atonement.
Don't get me wrong: every single player's Inquisitor plays a role in the story, and every one of those stories is meaningful.
They simply aren't the stories interwoven with all he is, and who he can be.
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Dragon Age: The Veilguard | ▶ dev. Bioware
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maruflix · 2 days ago
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YOU ARE SO GORGEOUS (IT MAKES ME SO MAD!)
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𝜗𝜚 synopsis: hoshina is unfamiliar with the concept of personal space. unluckily for you, the huge crush you have on your vice captain is the least of your worries when he keeps catching you absolutely losing it. / REQ.
contents: female reader, reader is an officer in the third division, fluff, stoic reader, reader cannot express her feelings, not-so-oblivious hoshina, kissing
word count: 2.0k
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When any kind of problem arises, the Third Division knows three things for sure:
Go get Captain Mina Ashiro to solve the problem for you.
If she’s busy with other important stuff, Vice Captain Hoshina Soshiro will do.
Should the Vice Captain be unavailable as well, look for Platoon Leader Y/N instead.
You don’t mind being busy— you’re happy to know that your fellow soldiers look for you in times of need. The thing is, sometimes people look for you to ask you where the Vice Captain is.
... and you hate Hoshina Soshiro.
It might surprise people to know that you’re able to feel emotions as strong as hate. You’re a naturally stoic person after all.
No noise readies you, no words shake you out of yourself, no person makes your emotions fluctuate — but Hoshina Soshiro is the only exception.
When other people would get discouraged to get close to you because of your lack of emotions, Soshiro is always at ease near you, like the two of you have been friends for a long time.
The way he smiles, the way he runs a hand through his hair, the way he stands— he’s so gorgeous it makes you so mad.
Like right now; the sound of blades clashing against each other rings in your ears as you try hard not to gape at the glorious display in front of you.
Kafka, huffing and puffing with sweat all over him as he desperately tries to keep up with his opponent, while Soshiro moves around with grace, delivering blows that seem so elegant and yet is enough to make Kafka stumble around like a puppet.
You watch, unsurprised, when Kafka falls down ungracefully, butt planted on the floor. Soshiro’s mouth starts moving (probably giving him some pointers) but all you can think about is how perfect he looks as a bead of sweat trails down his neck.
“Hey, it’s your turn.” Kikoru elbows you rather hard, making you snap out of your trance. Your face falls in an immediate deadpan as you stand up, passing by a dejected Kafka.
Soshiro smiles at you, seemingly unaffected by his earlier spar. “Oh no, I’m gonna have to open my eyes for this.”
He says it loud enough for everyone to hear and your heart leaps.
The spar lasted longer than the one with Kafka, but it still ended up with you losing. Well, there’s a reason he’s the Vice Captain and you’re the Platoon Leader.
As a competitive person, you should be angry for losing— but how could you, when Soshiro pulls you up and pats you in the back?
“You’re a great fighter. I might hafta to sit down and take a break.”
The poker face you successfully maintained should’ve given you a goddamn Grammy.
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Soshiro spots you in the cafetaria and immediately makes a beeline to your table.
“’scuse me, coming through!”
The surprise in your eyes is gone as quickly as it appears. The entire table greets him warmly while you continue to eat. Soshiro smiles, sitting down next to you as Kafka scrambles to get out of his way.
Reno is trying to strike up conversation, but his only focus is on you. You seem so unconcerned about everything. He likes that about you too, but he wishes you’d let down your guard with him. How could he know whether you liked him or not? — not that he’d stop trying to get your attention.
Soshiro eating the rest of his apple while he watches you slurp down the last remains of your soup. Even when you eat, you look absolutely divine.
Just then, a lock of hair falls down your face, hanging dangerously close to your food. He instinctively reaches out to brush it out of your face.
“Whoops, wouldn’t wanna get that in the soup.”
Soshiro is aware of the stares he got from his subordinates, but seeing those beautiful eyes of yours look at him makes it worth it. Shocked, he watches as your eyes flash through different emotions before finally returning to its usual calm state.
“E-excuse me.” You didn’t give him time to speak before standing up and walking away.
“Wait!”
Did he just hear a stutter?
You walk fast, but Soshiro managed to keep a comfortable distance away from you. He lets you put away the tray of food and is about to call your name when you disappear inside the toilet.
He halts, opting to wait for you, resting his back against the wall. Then he hears something weird.
“AARRGGGHH!!!”
Posture immediately straight, his body involuntarily jerks to the sound of the scream, wanting to check out if you’re okay. Because it’s the sound of your scream.
He doesn’t have to, because at that moment the door swings open and you walk out of the toilet.
Red-faced.
He’s still standing in stunned silence when you slap a hand to your mouth and run away.
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If Soshiro wasn’t worried before, he’s definitely worried now.
You keep avoiding him throughout the rest of the day. When you cross paths, you would refuse to look at him in the face. You’d only give him a halfhearted salute before fleeing.
The thing that bothers him is how hot and bothered you look. Are you feeling under the weather? Soshiro knows how hardworking you are, so he’s worried that you’re forcing yourself to work even though you’re sick.
“Platoon Leader, come here for a sec.”
You begrudgingly make your way to him, still not looking at him in the eyes. Fidgeting, sweating, and looking very, very bothered.
“Platoon Leader, are you sick?”
“No, sir.”
“Excuse me.” is his only warning before he presses his palm against your forehead.
Surprisingly, your temperature is... normal?
“W-what the-” Flinching, you make a big reaction and jerk away from his hand. Still, your face is calm. “If that’s all, I’ll take my leave.”
Soshiro sighs as you speedwalk away. Temperature aside, he’s 101% sure that you’re sick. After all, why else would your face be so red?
Unless...
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You’re dreaming. You’re dreaming. You’re dreaming. Because there is no goddamn way Soshiro just touched your face.
You have no clue where you’re walking. You just wanted to get away from the only person who’s able to make you lose your cool. So you head outside, to the gardens. You pass by Haruichi on the way there.
“Hey, have you seen the Vice Captain around?” He calls out after you, making you want to scream in frustration.
Can people stop making you remember the existence of the drop dead gorgeous Hoshina Soshiro?!
“I don’t know! Maybe China!”
Haruichi looks very confused. You brush past him.
Full of nerves and unsure what to do, you finally sit down on a bench to catch your breath. You can still feel his fingertips on your forehead and see the worried expression in his handsome face.
He’s worried about you. You’re about to bury your head in your hands and squeal when you catch sight of the very same man walking towards you.
Like a cue, the mask is back on. You wanted to pat yourself in the back for how quickly you’re able to gather your composure. You’d rather die than embarrass yourself in front of your crush... although you just did that when you walked out to a surprised Soshiro.
He didn’t hear you scream, did he?
Did he?
You stand up as Soshiro stops next to you. He’s smiling his usual smile, but something is eerie about it. Like he knows a secret.
“Can I test something?”
You blink once. Twice. Then you nod.
“Walk with me.”
You follow him, puzzled.
Suddenly, he loops a hand around your shoulders.
Your heart misses a beat and you nearly stumble, but you catch yourself with sheer willpower. The stoic expression is getting harder to maintain, the smile on your lips itching to blossom.
“What... why?”
There are chills running down your back when you look up at Soshiro. His smile is wider now, like he absolutely knows a secret.
He absolutely knows.
You break free and run for your life.
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Soshiro feels kinda guilty now. He didn’t mean to fluster you so much; he just felt so happy and flattered that he actually managed to make you blush.
That’s why he’s making his way to your quarters, hoping to apologize for teasing you too much today. Soshiro has loved you for many months now; he has no problems taking it slow until you’re ready to trust him with all your emotions.
The door is slightly ajar, so he pushes it open quietly, not wanting to alarm you. He’s about to knock on it to signal his presence when he sees the state you’re in.
Facing away from the door, your body is half slumped on the floor and half on the bed. You’re clutching a giant pillow to your face.
“AAARRRRGGGMMMM” Without warning, you scream, the sound drowned out by the pillow you’re burying your head into.
His mouth drops open but it quickly stretches into a smile.
You raise your head, revealing your blushing face, before slamming it down on the pillow again. A string of unintelligible noises follow soon after.
He clears his throat.
You pause mid grumble and the air is still. Slowly raising your head, you turn your head to the door. The two of you lock eyes.
“Vice Captain! Get out!”
Instead of getting out, Soshiro lets himself in and closes the door behind him. He chuckles at your terrified expression, finally seeing an emotion other than complete indifference.
“So you’re really not sick? Just blushin’ around me?”
You gape, looking very offended but unable to counter him.
“Oh, good. I thought my crush was unrequited.”
Your eyes widen.
“Hey, can I kiss ya?”
“Wh-what?!”
“Sorry. You just look so cute right now. Is that a no..?”
Soshiro moves closer, now kneeling down in front of you. A teasing smile is still present on his features. Gently, he strokes his thumb down the right side of your lips. Gauging your reactions.
You didn’t want to give him any, but even a great actress needs her breaks. A shy smile breaks through your cold facade, and Soshiro beams.
“Oh, this is so cute. I must kiss ya now.”
You don’t know where to look, eyes flitting everywhere but him, but you let him lean into you until you can feel his breaths against your skin.
“W-wait,” you gasp meekly. Soshiro’s other hand is around your waist now. “I’ve never kissed anyone before.”
Soshiro shivers in anticipation. “That’s okay,” he whispers and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, “just follow my lead.” And he presses his lips against yours.
It’s so cute how shy you are, so much so that you’re trembling under his touch. He’s pretty sure he heard a whimper when he tightens his hold on your waist. It takes everything in him to control himself when you tilt your head back, parting your lips a bit further for him.
You don’t know how long time has passed because your head is still in the clouds even after he pulls away. It’s embarrassing how a simple kiss leaves you a mess; your breaths ragged and cheeks flushed.
You, who’s usually so stoic, calm and composed, looking like this under him—
“I want to say that I’ll stop teasing you, but I would be lying.” Soshiro grins when you bury your face in his chest.
You’re sulking a bit now. How dare he make you look like a complete idiot. “Whatever. You won’t get another reaction out of me anyway.”
“Is that a challenge?”
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After that, he tries to get your attention every time you’re in the same space as each other. He’ll tease you, praise you, sling an arm around your shoulders, hold your things out of reach, all that just to get a rise out of you.
Of course, everyone knows he’s down bad. He acts like a schoolboy trying to get attention from his crush in all the wrong ways. So now even more people ask you about Soshiro; where he is, what he’s doing, like they’re completely convinced you two are an item.
Well, you are.
But with so many people teasing you about your relationship, it’s getting hard to hide behind a calm face. You smile a lot more often, especially when he’s around. Your reputation as the division’s most calm and composed soldier quickly fades into memory. At least you got yourself a hot boyfriend...?
Oh well. You win some, you lose some.
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taglist: @bgyuus, @plsmarrymehioriyo, @o-sachi, @vashyuu, @moon-cakiie, @17020, @eeiternity, @ryescapades
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harryssyndrome · 2 days ago
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Kiwi baby! | h.s 🥝
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Summery: Harry’s wife surprises him during Kiwi with the best news ever.
Word count: 3.2k || Masterlist 🍉🍓❤️
The gif and the ai image are both mine! Don’t you dare steal it! I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO USE EITHER OF THEM OR STEAL MY WORK!!!
On a kind note, I hope you enjoy reading!!! I love this one-shot sm <333 I couldn’t wait to write it the whole night ever since I got the idea. This is probably my most favorite piece of work ever. I guess I’ll make this a part of ‘Our Little World: Documentary series’. REQUEST ARE OPEN! 🌊
Posted on: November 24th, 2024. (IST)
Tag-list: @angeldavis777 @fruity-harry || TAGLIST OPEN 💌
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The evening sky above the stadium was painted in deep shades of purple, and the crowd beneath it surged with energy, every soul gathered to see him perform. Harry Styles was in his element, bathed in bright lights, his smile as wide as the stage itself, his voice carrying through the open air. The music was loud, vibrant, and electric—Kiwi blasting through the speakers as Harry moved across the stage, every step laced with the confidence and excitement that only live performances could stir.
His outfit tonight was nothing short of breathtaking—a red and black Gucci harlequin-patterned suit that shimmered under the lights, accentuating his every movement. The slickness of his hair, now a little longer than usual, fell just enough to brush his forehead as he swung his body to the rhythm of the song. Fans were ecstatic, their voices harmonizing with his in perfect unity, shouting the words to Kiwi as if their very existence depended on it.
The crowd threw water at him, a playful and typical reaction to the intense heat of the show. Harry, ever the entertainer, caught one of the bottles and used it to douse them back with a mischievous grin. The energy was alive in a way only concerts could make him feel. He laughed along with his fans, feeling that familiar thrill that had kept him addicted to this life—the adoration of strangers, the pulse of the music, and the sheer joy of performing.
But amidst the buzz of lights, the sweat dripping from his skin, and the joy in the air, there was a quiet thought that kept tugging at him. YN. His wife. She wasn’t in the VIP stand like usual. He could always rely on her to be there, her smile always radiating at him from the crowd, her presence a constant comfort. But tonight, the spot where she always stood was empty. The concern he tried to shake off kept creeping into his mind, distracting him in the back of his head, even as his heart continued to race with excitement from the show.
He couldn’t help but glance over to the section where she usually sat, hoping to catch a glimpse of her face, knowing it would soothe the small, gnawing worry he felt. But the space remained empty.
His foot tapped the beat of the song beneath him, trying to focus on the crowd once more. He tossed the water bottle at the fans, his fingers brushing the cold plastic. The adrenaline kept him high, kept him in the moment, but his gaze drifted again.
Where was she?
YN had been a little quieter than usual in the past few days. He hadn’t pushed for any answers, but now he found himself wondering if something was wrong. Maybe she was feeling unwell. Maybe she just wanted to have a quiet night in. Still, the thought of not seeing her there tonight gnawed at him.
His voice still rang out with the words of the song, but his mind was divided between the stage and the empty stand. He kept looking—one eye on the crowd, the other scanning for her. And just as his next verse was coming up, he saw it.
There she was.
Right in the front row—so close to the barricade, she was almost on the stage.
His breath caught in his throat.
She wasn’t in the VIP section. No, she was right there. In the heart of the crowd. The waves of people parted like the Red Sea for her, and there she stood—holding a sign. Her figure illuminated by the stage lights, her long hair falling in waves over her shoulders, a look of pure joy and love in her eyes.
For a moment, everything else fell away—the music, the fans, the lights—all of it was distant. Harry couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight of her. The sign she held was simple, but to him, it was everything.
“I’m having your baby” it read, scrawled across a bright poster board in bold, handwritten letters.
He froze. His heart nearly stopped.
She’s pregnant.
He blinked, thinking he must be imagining it, but no—she was smiling at him now, holding up the sign for him to see, her eyes locked on his. There was no mistaking it. YN—his wife—was carrying their baby.
Harry’s pulse raced as the flood of emotions hit him. His heart thudded against his chest like it wanted to burst free. The happiness, the disbelief, the excitement—it all rushed through him like a tidal wave, and for a moment, the world seemed to tilt beneath his feet.
He had wanted this. He had dreamed of this. Of being a father. Of having a child with YN. They had talked about it before, casually, in quiet moments after dinner, while walking through the park, in bed at night. But it had never been a “right now” kind of conversation. They had agreed that when it happened, it happened. And now… it had happened.
Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, and his throat tightened. The emotions, overwhelming and beautiful, blurred his vision, but all he could do was stand there on the stage, dumbstruck by the sight of his wife, her belly now holding the future they had always dreamed of.
In a rush of pure joy, Harry stumbled forward, intent on reaching her, to hold her, to kiss her, to tell her how much he loved her. But as he took a step toward her, he didn’t see the puddle of water gathering at the edge of the stage, a result of the fans tossing their bottles earlier.
And then, it happened.
His foot slipped.
There was a split second of disbelief before Harry lost his footing completely, crashing down to the stage in an ungraceful heap. The crowd gasped collectively, their moment of joy paused in shock. But Harry, ever the professional, couldn’t help but laugh at himself. His laughter echoed through the microphone as he quickly scrambled to his feet, dusting himself off.
“Bloody hell,” he muttered, still chuckling as he shook off the fall. The fans laughed along with him, the tension breaking as they cheered even louder, impressed by his quick recovery. Harry took a deep breath, regaining his balance and composure. He grabbed the microphone again, still laughing, and gave the crowd a playful wink.
“You okay, Harry?” someone from the crew called out, teasing him from the side.
“Yeah, I’m good! Just a little slippery, that’s all!” Harry replied, still grinning.
His gaze immediately returned to YN. She was still standing at the barricade, her sign still held high, her face alight with joy, her smile as radiant as the sun. It was in that moment that Harry realized he couldn’t wait any longer. The song was still playing behind him, the familiar rhythm pulsing through his body, but he couldn’t focus on the lyrics anymore. Not with the overwhelming emotions flooding his heart.
He took a step forward, slowly walking toward the edge of the stage, his eyes still locked on YN, who was holding his gaze with the same intensity. With each step, his heart pounded harder in his chest.
And before he even knew it, his knees buckled beneath him, and Harry collapsed to the stage once more, but this time, it was with pure emotion.
He covered his face with his hands, unable to contain the tears that had begun to fall freely down his cheeks. After a few moments, Harry wiped his eyes, clearing the tears away as he stood up once more. His voice was thick with emotion when he spoke into the mic, his words trembling with happiness:
“My wife is having my baby!” he shouted, his voice trembling. “It’s all my business!”
The crowd erupted in pure, ecstatic noise, the roar of the fans filling the stadium as Harry remained on his knees, the overwhelming weight of the moment too much to bear. His chest was heaving, his body shaking as the reality of the news consumed him.
“Is that real?” a fan shouted.
“Yes, it’s real!” Harry replied, laughing through his tears. “I’m going to be a dad! A dad!” He repeated the words as if he needed to hear them again, the joy overwhelming every part of him.
The fans roared in approval, the noise a chaotic symphony of celebration. But Harry didn’t care about any of that now. He didn’t care about the performance or the crowd or the cameras recording every moment. All he could think about was YN.
His mind was consumed by thoughts of the future—the life they would build together, the family they would raise. He quickly stood to his feet, wiping his eyes, and glanced once more at YN.
Without another moment’s hesitation, Harry dropped the mic to the stage and sprinted toward the barricade, his heart pounding with anticipation.
Harry could feel the heat of the stage lights burning against his skin, but they didn’t matter. The noise of the crowd was deafening, but it was like a distant hum. His heart was the loudest thing he could hear, thrumming in his chest, pumping through his veins with an almost frantic rhythm. His legs carried him toward YN like they had a mind of their own. He was driven by a force he couldn’t describe, propelled by the overwhelming joy of the moment.
Fans parted for him as he made his way to the front of the stage, their cheers rising to a fever pitch as they realized what was happening. Harry didn’t hear their excitement—he only heard the steady beat of his heart, louder now than the music, than anything else in the world.
YN. His wife. The love of his life. The mother of his child.
As he approached the barricades, YN’s smile never wavered. She was grinning from ear to ear, her eyes shining with excitement, her hand placed lovingly over her flat belly. As soon as Harry reached her, he lifted her into his arms, spinning her around in a joyous embrace, laughing like a child. The crowd cheered even louder, their love for Harry and YN growing with every passing second.
She had always known that he wanted this more than anything. They both had. But now it was real. She was carrying their baby, and everything about their lives was about to change.
“YNN…” Harry’s voice caught in his throat as he reached her. He placed her back on the ground, eyes never leaving hers. She was glowing—absolutely radiant in the soft light of the stage, and he couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh as his arms reached out to her, pulling her into a tight embrace. The crowd cheered louder, but Harry only had eyes for YN, holding her close, feeling the warmth of her body against his.
“I love you,” Harry whispered into her ear, his voice thick with emotion. “I love you so much. I can’t believe we’re going to be parents.”
YN pulled back slightly to look at him, her hand resting on his chest, feeling the erratic beat of his heart under her fingers. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, her smile wide and full of joy, matching his own. “I know. I can’t believe it either,” she whispered, voice trembling just slightly. “I wanted to tell you in the cutest way possible, but you’ve already made it the most unforgettable moment of my life.”
Harry’s breath caught again, a lump forming in his throat as he looked down at her belly, still so small but already holding the life they had created together. His hands rested gently on her sides as he crouched down slightly, his eyes never leaving her. He placed his lips softly on her stomach, his kiss a promise—a vow. The fans around them cheered again, but this time, it was just background noise to Harry.
“I’m going to be the best dad for you,” Harry muttered against her belly, his voice filled with awe. “I promise.”
YN’s fingers threaded through his hair as she smiled down at him, her heart swelling with love. “I know you will be. I’ve always known,” she whispered, her voice full of faith and affection.
“You’re going to be the best dad our baby could ever ask for.”
As Harry pulled back from the kiss, he stood to his full height and stared at YN, his hands still resting on her waist, his expression filled with wonder. His lips curled into a grin, and he couldn’t resist pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead before meeting her eyes once more.
“I can’t believe I’m going to be a dad,” he repeated, his voice thick with emotion, as if the words didn’t fully make sense to him yet. But the more he said them, the more real it became. “You and me. We’re going to have a little baby.”
YN’s eyes sparkled, the tears now freely falling down her cheeks. She looked at him with a mix of love, gratitude, and joy. She reached up to touch his face, her thumb brushing gently against the stubble on his jaw. “It’s happening, Harry,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “It’s happening.”
Harry smiled wider, and without thinking, he reached down, cupping her face with both hands. He kissed her then—slow, gentle, tender—a kiss that held all of his joy, his love, his gratitude, his hope for their future. This was more than a kiss; it was a promise, a symbol of everything they were about to become. Harry pulled away slowly, his forehead resting against hers as they both tried to catch their breath.
“I can’t wait,” Harry murmured, his lips still grazing hers as he spoke. “I can’t wait to hold our baby. To be there for you. For everything.”
The love in his voice was enough to make YN’s heart swell to bursting. He kissed her again, softer this time, and then looked back at the crowd.
Harry wrapped her in a tight hug, lifting her off the ground and spinning her around again as he laughed.
“I love you,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.
YN laughed, her fingers threading through his damp curls. “I love you too. Always.”
Harry set her down gently, his hands never leaving her as he looked into her eyes. “You’re my everything, YNN. You and this baby—you’re everything.”
Tears slid down YN’s cheeks, and she nodded, her heart full. “And you’re ours.”
Harry dropped to his knees once more, pressing his lips to her stomach in a gesture so tender it made YN’s breath catch.
“Thank you for making my life so much beautiful,” he murmured, his voice trembling. “I’ll love this baby with everything I’ve got. And I’ll love you even more.”
YN’s hands rested on his shoulders, her fingers squeezing gently. “You already are, Harry.”
The evening continued around them, but for Harry and YN, time seemed to slow. The music had become a distant hum, the chatter of the fans a soft murmur in the background. All that mattered was each other.
As they stood at the barricades, Harry reached up to take YN’s hand in his, squeezing it gently. He leaned in once more, pressing a kiss to her lips, soft and slow, as if savoring every moment, every sensation. His heart felt full to bursting. He had everything he had ever wanted—YN, their love, and now, the promise of their baby.
He felt as if his entire life had led up to this point—this single, beautiful moment. The rush of emotions from earlier hadn’t yet subsided, but now there was a calmness in him, a peace. He smiled as he looked down at YN’s hand in his, then back into her eyes.
“I know we’ve been through so much already,” Harry said quietly, his voice full of emotion. “But I feel like the best part of our journey is just beginning.”
YN nodded, her smile soft and full of love. “I feel the same way.”
Harry squeezed her hand once more, then stepped back slightly, turning his attention back to the crowd. “I’m going to be a dad,” he said out loud, his voice full of awe and happiness. He turned to face the audience, the microphone still lying on the stage. “Everyone, this is the best moment of my life,” he said, his voice carrying the emotion of the words. “My wife, YN, is having my baby.”
The moment was surreal. The fans were still screaming, the cameras still rolling, but none of it mattered. For Harry, nothing would ever top this moment. It wasn’t just another performance or another stage—it was the night his greatest dream began to come true.
As they stood there together, the crowd began to chant, “Baby Styles! Baby Styles!”
Harry threw his head back in laughter, turning to wave at the audience. “You lot are mad!” he called out, but his face said it all—he was over the moon.
The crowd continued on cheering wildly, but Harry’s focus was on the woman in front of him. She was glowing, every inch of her radiating love and joy, and he couldn’t help but feel like the luckiest man alive.
He leaned in to kiss her once more, this time a gentle, loving kiss on her lips. He felt everything he had ever hoped for in that kiss—his future, his family, and the love of his life, all wrapped up in one perfect moment.
As the kiss ended, he pulled back, his forehead resting against hers. “I love you,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.
“I love you too,” YN whispered back.
They stood there for a moment longer, the world around them continuing on, but nothing mattered now but each other, and the new life they were about to bring into the world. Together.
The fans’ cheers faded into the background as Harry held YN’s hand tightly, the two of them standing side by side, facing the future with all the love and hope that their hearts could hold.
Harry stood up and kissed her again, his heart still racing, his mind still in a daze, but in the best way possible. His dream of being a dad was coming true, and no matter what came next, he knew he had everything he ever needed right here, in this moment. He knew one thing for sure: their love was only just beginning
And with that, Harry Styles was no longer just a rock star on stage—he was going to be a dad, and that was the greatest role he’d ever play.
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fastandcarlos · 1 day ago
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Jealous And Pregnant : ̗̀➛ Lance Stroll
summary: with your hormones through the roof, all the little things send your jealousy skyrocketing
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Your heart sunk as you watched Lance be fussed over by the makeup artist, her hands repeatedly brushing through his hair. The smile that was on Lance’s face had you feeling uncomfortable, almost as if you were the one intruding on the two of them. 
There were people everywhere as they prepared for the launch of the new car, with you blending into the crowd, Lance had no idea that your eyes were on him, concentrating on getting himself ready. 
The look on your face though caught Chloe’s eye as she walked through, taking a seat beside you as you placed your hands against your bump, trying your best to stay as comfortable as you could. 
“Just ignore him,” Chloe told you, following your eyes to see where you were looking. 
You wanted to, but the sound of Lance’s laughter pulled you straight back in again. Chloe placed a hand on your shoulder, watching Lance too with a shake of her head, surprised by how close the makeup artist was. 
“She’s always been a little flirty,” Chloe tried to defend, not wanting you to worry. “She’d flirt with a fish if you put one in front of her, I swear.” 
You smiled appreciatively back at Chloe at her attempts to try and make you feel better. “I thought he’d do a bit of a better job of telling her to stop, he almost looks like he’s enjoying it with her.” 
Chloe didn’t quite know what to say as she saw the smile on her brother’s face, part of her wanted to march over and drag him away, but she knew she couldn’t leave your side too with you heavily pregnant. 
“He adores you, he’s probably just being nice,” Chloe whispered, nudging against your side. “Don’t overthink this too much, it’s not good for you right now getting stressed.” 
You wanted to relax, to enjoy watching Lance get ready, with all the excitement to launch the car for the new season, but now you were on the edge of your seat, terrified about what could happen over in the makeup chair. 
“Lance is too nice to tell anyone to get lost, sometimes I wish he’d grow a backbone.” 
Chloe couldn’t help but chuckle as you spoke, “I bet if I went over and told him that you were upset right now, he’d be absolutely mortified, he’s just oblivious to people and their feelings sometimes.” 
“Maybe I should just go, before I end up hurting myself.” 
You stood up from where you were sat, walking out of the room to the front reception of the centre. It was much quieter than the bustle of the makeup room, giving you a chance to sit back and relax and try to forget about the lingering thoughts of what was going on with Lance at the back of your mind. 
Once he was finished with hair and makeup, Lance stood up from the chair, his eyes immediately searching for you. When he found Chloe, he walked straight over to her, noticing the disapproving look that she wore as soon as she saw him coming over to her. 
“You’re an idiot,” she scolded, hitting against his arm. “You could’ve made it a little less obvious that you were getting your hair done by that stupid stylist.” 
“Where is she?” Lance frowned, letting go of a sigh. “I wasn’t enjoying it, but it’s just got to be done. I should probably go and find her and fix things, right?” 
“She’s pregnant Lance, she can’t help how she feels.” 
Lance rushed out of the room and around the centre in search of you. He flew through every room, eyes darting around for you. As he got to the front of the building, he finally found you sat in one of the office chairs, staring out of the window. 
He slowed down as he approached you, grabbing a chair and pulling it over to sit beside you. You didn’t react when you felt Lance’s presence beside you, continuing to look out of the window, pretending that he wasn’t there. 
“Honey,” Lance whispered, placing his hand against your shoulder to get your attention. 
Lance could tell from the look on your face that you were upset, your body was tense, your brows slightly furrowed, breathing much heavier than it usually was. 
“I’m sorry if what happened back there upset you,” Lance added, “I didn’t think anything of it, but I can imagine how it probably looked from the outside. She’s got a bit of a thing for my hair, she keeps fluffing it, I actually find it quite annoying.” 
Your eyes slowly turned to look in Lance’s direction, “are you just saying that?” 
Lance’s head shook as he offered you a reassuring smile. “Honestly, I can’t really stand her, but she’s got a job to do. I don’t know what else you think happens between the two of us, but I promise that that’s it.” 
“I probably look stupid, don’t I?” You sighed, resting your hand against your bump once again. “These stupid hormones leave me never quite sure how I should be feeling these days.” 
Lance nodded understandingly; he’d been on the receiving end of enough of your mood swings to know that you were struggling. One moment you were smiling, the next crying, never quite knowing how to feel. 
His hand moved up to rest over yours against your bump, brushing the pad of his thumb against the back of your hand. Admittedly, Lance knew that he wasn’t the smartest when it came to seeing other people’s intentions, never meaning to upset you like he did sometimes. 
“There’s no need to be jealous of her,” Lance told you, leaning across to kiss your cheek. “You know that you’re the only person for me, there’s never been anyone else.” 
Your head nodded as you tried to stay composed, feeling your eyes begin to well up. Your hand quickly reached up to your eyes, wiping underneath them, which Lance quickly caught onto. 
His expression softened as he watched you, pulling you closer into him. As a tear rolled down your cheek, Lance quickly caught it with the back of his hand, wiping it away. 
“Please don’t cry,” he softly smiled. 
“I don’t mean to.” 
“I know, hormones,” Lance chuckled, knowing exactly what you were like. “All you need to know is that I adore you, and that there’s no reason to be jealous. If you want, I can see if I can get someone else to do my hair and makeup for the shoots from now on.” 
Your head shook as you leaned against Lance’s shoulder. “It’s ridiculous that I’m even getting jealous about something like this, you’re at work, and I know that you’ll always be professional. I can’t wait to have this baby so I can just feel normal again, without constantly feeling like I’m some sort of whirlwind.” 
“It’s alright,” Lance reminded you, “you don’t need to justify anything or explain yourself; I know how you’re feeling, even though it might not seem so.” 
Your eyes flickered up to Lance, “would it be easier if I just went? You’ve got enough on your plate today without having to worry about me.” 
“No, I want you here,” Lance assured you, “you’re a part of the team here and I want you to see the car, you’ve heard me talk about it enough times.” 
“I don’t want to be in the way Lance.” 
He tightened his grip around you, “you’re not in the way, I want you here more than I want anyone else here. I’ll make sure you and Chloe are sat together; she’ll be able to look out for you.” 
“And I promise not to get jealous,” you teased, “although from now on, the only person who gets to touch your hair, is me.” 
“My hair is all yours my love.” 
˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗
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eviesaurusrex · 1 day ago
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Escaping | Azriel x High Fae
summary: Azriel carries his mate off to a much-needed picnic, away from her duties at the Court of Dreams.
word counter: 3.2k
warnings: none, pure fluff, Az being a simp for his woman, mentions of reader being an empath/reader having empathic abilities, Az’s pet names being always accompanied by “my” (bc he needs to remind himself constantly that she’s indeed his), reader is part of the Night Court ever since
author’s note: This is also my first time writing anything for ACOTAR, so please be gentle with me, but I just had to, okay? Az deserves every ounce of happiness I can offer him. Also: This is my first time writing and uploding anything in a minute, so this is definitely not perfect
Dividers are made by @enchanthings and @sweetmelodygraphics <3
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He had planned this little escape for weeks now, always trying to find the perfect moment to whisk his mate away between duties and obligations, only to grant her and himself a much-needed break from quite literally everything. His shadows had been restless ever since, just as their wielder, the growing stress and frustration traveling along their strong mating bond only a figment of an indication of how she grew to feel every morning she awoke to tend to the court and their cause to protect and free Prythian in the War looming on the horizon.
And today had been finally the perfect day—due to Rhys’ helping hand after he had seen the growing and building anxiety of his brother.
“Is it not strange how adamant Rhys has acted earlier? I think it’s weird. Do you think I should go and check up on him later? Maybe trying to ease his mind? I think I should.” Her sweet, melodic voice filled the warm air, and a rare chuckle escaped the spymaster at her fast-working mind. Gently, he took the blanket out of her arms, placing it over the arm that already carried the basket filled with all her favorites, and tenderly, his free arm found its home around her waist, pulling her closer to his side.
A perfect fit. It was as if the Mother and the Cauldron had molded them to fit just as perfectly as two puzzle pieces. Made for one another… He still couldn’t grasp how his lifelong wish had been answered and granted after so many centuries.
Azriel’s head dipped to press a lingering kiss to her temple, his nose slightly buried in her soft strands, the soothing scent overpowering the scents wafting around them. “Will you scold me if I tell you how I asked him to give us at least today to ourselves?” His voice was soft, tender, a loving and humored edge to it. Hazel eyes began to twinkle as she looked up at him, meeting his gaze, not surprised in the slightest at his revelation, and the teasing twinkle in her eyes in return made his lips twitch into a smile. “Did you now?” She teased and nudged his side, tickling Az because she knew of every existing weak spot—the only person aside from Cassian and Rhys. Her growing smile made him feel light, free, and still, it was the most exhilarating thing he had ever achieved in his long life; felt as if his heart might explode any second when she turned and stretched slightly to press a kiss to his jawline. Reaching further wasn’t possible with the towering male walking beside her. “Thank you, my love.” Only a whisper, but loud enough to travel to his ears, accompanied by the warm and fuzzy feeling sent down the bond by her.
Another pull with the arm around her waist put her even closer—if that was even possible—and Azriel couldn’t hold back the urge within him to kiss her soft lips he had already kissed so often ever since they had accepted their mating bond. Still, it wasn’t often enough, in his opinion. Giving in, the shadowsinger stopped their path in the hidden passageway towards the lush green rolling hills along the coast of Velaris and slowly bent his body, letting their noses run alongside one another. “Nothing to thank me for, my darling,” he hummed, lips almost already touching in the softest of kisses, and he felt her fingers run through the short hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him closer to her and letting their lips melt into one. Neither he nor she could tell where the kiss started and where it ended, where his lips began and hers ended.
The low rumble of her stomach put a pause to their antics, and Az hummed once again before entwining their fingers and continued on their path. “Let’s find a place where we can ease that growl, my darling.”
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Wildflowers of all kinds surrounded the place they had finally settled on—the glittering ocean right next to them, the rolling green hills as far as sight could reach, and Velaris in the close distance, beautiful as it had always been. Az had made himself comfortable on the blanket, the picnic basket opened right next to him, his body propped up on his forearms, and his eyes followed his mate as she strolled through the flowers. He could see her fingertips gracing the soft petals that stretched their colorful heads towards the sun, his shadows slowly, almost lazily winding around her wrist and fingers, always keeping her company, making sure she was alright. Not that Azriel minded their own ways, but sometimes he suspected they might abandon him entirely for her if they had the chance—and the shadowsinger couldn’t blame them either. He would do the same if it meant being at her side at all times.
“Eat at least a bite,” he now called over to her as she picked the first flower. She only spared a quick glance at him, but her radiant smile couldn’t fool him, nor could it hide the roll of her eyes. “Yes, yes. Only a minute, love.” Azriel himself rolled his eyes now, but the tuck at his lips was too strong to withstand it. Not when they were alone, not when she was the cause of that rare smile sneaking its way onto his face.
So, he watched her while already eating some of the fresh berries, patiently waiting, eyes moving when she moved toward the next flower in full bloom, bending down to pick her, placing the delicate thing in the soft embrace of her arm he knew wouldn’t dare crush her new possession. She wasn’t violent or cruel to beings who couldn’t defend themselves, who didn’t possess a single malicious thought in their entire body. And even for those who might commit evil deeds, she still held compassion if necessary. By the Cauldron, she even had accepted him from the very beginning of their friendship all those centuries ago when Rhys had brought her into the Court of Dreams, right after the War had been won.
A sigh left him when she finally strolled toward him in her pretty flowy dress, hair flowing in the warm breeze, her smile growing the closer she got to him. “What am I supposed to do with you, hm?” Az had pushed himself from his arms into a sitting position, legs slightly crossed, an arm resting on his muscular thigh, while the other reached for her, enveloping her fingers as she sank onto the blanket and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. The sound of his wings stretching and rustling behind him accompanied her adorable chuckle, and he almost melted at the sight of her shining eyes when she pressed his scarred palm against her cheek, her lips leaving a warm mark on it, letting him forget about the pain of the past in an instant.
She had that power over him.
“Az, you had more than four centuries to get used to my antics.” Grinning, her lips pressed another set of kisses to his palm before letting his hand sink onto her knee, where it immediately started to wander and found its place on her thigh, squeezing it tenderly. “I should know by now, you mean?” A nod followed his question, grin still prominent on her lips, but he felt her concentration slip toward the many flowers she had sprayed over the blanket in front of her, and her soft and delicate fingers had already started to weave some of them together. “Perhaps even a lifetime isn’t long enough,” he dared to hum and tease, moving closer toward her side and holding a strawberry in front of her lips. The tip of Azriel’s nose nudged her temple, and she took a bite, sighing in satisfaction. “Perhaps.” The sweet berry muffled her words, and without thinking or even considering he was prepared for it, the woman scooted closer and leaned backward, pressing her back against her mate’s strong chest—because he had been ready. He was always ready and always there if she needed or craved anything.
Even though the bond had taken its sweet time before it had finally snapped into place, they had been close from the beginning, a mutual feeling of closeness and understanding the root and foundation of their slowly blooming friendship. And over the decades and centuries, they had started to learn to know one another. Now, with the bond in its rightful place, it all was merely heightened; no longer a want to fulfill anything they wished for, but an urging need. So Az just knew without thinking when she needed his arms wrapped tightly around her body, his chest pressing against her back like a steadfast wall in a sea of uncertainty and fear.
His chin rested on her right shoulder, the strong and powerful wings softly tucked behind his back, granting the sunlight to kiss and warm her skin while she weaved flower after flower in a steadily growing circle.
“When all of this is over…” The soft voice of his mate traveled alongside the warm breeze. “When all is over, I’d like to leave for a while. Just… the two of us. Somewhere enjoying life itself, forgetting about War, bloodshed, and intrigues. Healing and growing,” she continued even softer, reminding him once again of her calm and peaceful nature, and Azriel felt how she longed for all those things after everything that had happened in the past fifty years. He didn’t dare to think about all that had happened Under the Mountain when she had been forced to live there, didn’t try to recollect everything she had shared with him in those days after Rhys and she had finally returned to Velaris.
All that was important was the exploding sensation of relief since she had followed Rhys over the threshold in the House of Wind, stepping out of the shadow of his broad back and came running right to him. That immaculate sensation had been his companion since that day.
Burrowing his face into the warm crook of her neck, the spymaster released a deep breath. “Whatever you wish, my darling,” he whispered against her skin, making her giggle and squirm in his grasp. “Az! Stop it, or my flower crown will be ruined!” He hid the growing smirk against her skin and nipped at one of her weak spots, making it tickle once more. “They always turn out beautiful.” Azriel could practically feel the playful roll of her eyes at his words, and dutifully, he picked the next flower for her to weave into the growing circle before a small lemon tart found its way to her lips, reminding his mate that they indeed had something else in mind when they had left the House of Wind earlier.
The deep, soft sighing after the first bite of the masterfully baked tart warmed his heart, and Azriel didn’t object in the slightest when the small cake was eaten within a heartbeat, her sweet tooth demanding even more after weeks of relinquishment because they had all been so busy with the preparations for the meeting with Prythian’s High Lords.
“Another one?” He whispered quietly as the shadows now surrounded their legs, resting like they did. “Do we have one of these tiny strawberry cakes we had for Starfall?” Immediately, the memory of the last festivities occupied his mind as he looked for the mentioned dessert and presented it to her like an offering to the gods in his open, scarred palm. “My Lady.” She chuckled at that and abandoned the almost finished flower crown with a gentle “Thank you, my Lord,” only to take the delicate cake and took a savoring bite out of it.
“Have I ever told you how beautiful you looked at Starfall? More radiant as the stars…” Az’s voice trailed off into the distance, pictures of that night clouding his mind once again. As she turned her head to look at him with that one smile entirely reserved for his eyes, he pulled back and let her kiss his lips in a heart-wrenchingly soft kiss. “You told me that countless times, my love. Especially when you see the dress hanging in the armoire.” She grinned at that, making him almost blush. “But do I need to remind you how handsome and dashing you looked that night? All those ladies turning and twisting their heads as soon as you walked through the room…” Even though she knew that no one could take her mate, the bitter feeling of jealousy boiled in her blood for just a second before it vanished at the glowing and warm, but also shadowy feeling of their bond, reminding her once again that they were bound for the rest of their existence.
“No need to be jealous, my darling. There was never anyone but you, and there will never be anyone but you.”
His index finger under her chin moved her face upward to face him, skin touching skin and lips brushing over even softer lips. “I know,” she whispered against Azriel, and for a moment, she leaned her forehead against the strong line of his jaw, feeling him pressing a tender kiss on her hairline.
A rumble in the far-off distance let them look up at last, and both watched the building and rolling clouds over the sea, knowing that rain was a mere thought away. But still, they took their time.
Az continued to feed them both, watching her tirelessly weaving flower after flower into the crown, humming a tune they had danced to countless times by now and savoring the warmth radiating off his body. “Another one for Elain?” Azriel dared to ask as she seemed to be done. All the flowers she had gathered were woven into a beautiful, intricate pattern, and none were wasted. His mate had started to bring Elain flowers and plants in all their forms, especially ones only growing in their lands and not behind the wall, explaining their nature, natural habitats, uses, and sometimes hidden beauty. She was so soft and gentle with the young female that Azriel had to ask himself—more often than not, if he was honest—if she would be like this to their children if they ever were allowed that sort of happiness.
He let her sit up and turn onto her knees, holding the crown in her delicate fingers. She shook her head, an unsure smile now surfacing on her lips, as she softly placed it on top of his dark hair. “I never made one for you, my love.” He was stunned, not daring to move nor touch the petals now resting on his head. “You don’t have to keep it, of course. If you don’t like it, I can just bring it to Elain, and we’ll forget about it. It’s silly anywa-” He stopped her right then and there by pulling her close and kissing her fiercely, only holding himself back from roaring down their bond and scaring the living daylights out of her. He took great pride in the fact how breathless his mate was when Az finally ended the kiss, how gleaming her eyes were when she looked at him, how the blush that had crept to her cheeks made them glow, how her fingers gripped the fabric over his chest to steady herself. “Don’t you dare take it,” he growled and kissed her once more, shorter this time, less desperate, and still tickled those delicious sounds out of her body he still kept reveling in, even after all this time.
The first drop falling from the heavens made them part, and while she started to collect their things to pack them safely into the basket and fold the picnic blanket, Azriel spread his wings to protect his mate from the mighty raindrops. When they were ready to winnow to the barriers of the House of Wind, the summer downpour had already picked up its intensity and soaked the two from head to toe. However, their laughter still lingered over their sacred space of Velaris even after they winnowed away.
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Feyre’s brows creased in worry as she looked out the many windows in the palace atop the mountain, overlooking Velaris during the downpour that had been foreseen. The heavy drops splattered against the glass, making it difficult to discern any shape moving in the distance. She knew the rain wouldn’t harm them, but the thunderstorm rolling over the hills induced an anxiety within her that she could barely contain.
“Feyre, darling?”
Rhys’ voice let her spin away from the windows, facing her mate who had stood from his desk he had worked on for the past couple of hours, and walked closer toward her, worry furrowing his forehead. “What is wrong?” He wrapped his strong arms around her body, and the High Lady sighed deeply as she sank into the embrace. “Nothing, I…” The first roaring thunder let her pause for a moment. “Az and YN haven’t returned yet.” Violet eyes gazed out of the window, brows slightly furrowed in concentration as he tried to make out the shapes in the gloomy light of the early evening.
Then, a smile spread across his handsome face, and Feyre turned to see what had happened. “They are now. Come, my love,” the High Lord coaxed his mate toward the door to meet the pair down the hall to greet them. She followed him without hesitation, needing to see for herself that both her friends returned without harm, and had to know if they enjoyed their afternoon, needing all the raunchy details YN would spill over a glass of faery wine and a warm fire.
They only made it atop the stairwell leading down into the hall that housed the balcony primarily used to enter the House of Wind, and the pair watched a dripping YN pulling a not-less-dripping Azriel inside, a laugh dancing on her lips.
The Illyrian shook the rain off his shoulders and wings, eyes entirely focused on the brightly smiling High Fae before him. Without a thought, he let the basket drop to the floor, not sparing a single second for its whereabouts after because his entire being narrowed down to the bond beating in his chest, demanding intimacy, closeness, with the female he desired and loved more than life itself. A shriek escaped YN between laughter as Az playfully pounced on her, wrapping her in his strong arms and lifting her off the ground in one smooth motion, moaning deep in his throat at the first taste of her lips drenched in rain droplets.
As he carried her down the hall toward their shared bedchambers in long, purposeful strides, flower crown still proudly atop his head, YN laughed: “Az, the basket!” The pair above the stairs could only hear him say, “It can wait until I’m drunk and delirious on you,” before a door closed, and Feyre finally allowed the giggle to escape her she had held onto for so long.
Rhys shook his head with a humored grin, pulling the female next to him closer to his chest. “My spymaster wearing a flower crown? I won’t ever let him forget it,” he chuckled deeply, amusement and happiness dancing across his face, especially as Feyre hit his chest in warning. “Don’t you dare tease him about it!” The male grinned at that, pulling her face toward him, and pressed a lingering kiss to her lips. “I can’t make such promises, Feyre darling unless you are interested in a little deal with your beloved mate.”
Now, it was her turn to let a laugh freely echo through the halls.
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Thank you everyone for reading! As usual: I'd love to read your thoughts and comments, perhaps you have an idea for a future Azriel - or any ACOTAR character - fanfiction you'd want me to write. Also, likes and reblogs are very much appreciated! <3
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prozacwhorehouse · 2 days ago
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paparazzi | mgg x SNL cast member gf
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Summary: comments from the paparazzi instill doubt in you, but Matthew is there as a voice of reason
this was a request but it got deleted when I was making edits so I hope this finds its way to that lovely person !
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pre and post show paparazzi outside the studio wasn’t uncommon. but when speculation that you and Matthew were dating blossomed, they got more incessant and difficult to ignore. it seemed as if they were always around, with the intention of spotting the two of you and documenting it. they were constantly nagging for answers and details about your relationship, most specifically mentioning the age gap.
the both of you knew it’d would be hard for some people to understand, but the idea that you were both legal consenting adults seemed more logical and would be accepted easier. originally, you had kept the relationship private - wanting the intimate moments to be kept to yourselves, only for yourselves. eventually the love becomes to great to hide, so you started dropping hints to the public. hints weren’t enough, there were always the small few who liked to dig a little deeper, push sensitive buttons - almost always internet trolls, or worse, in person paparazzi.
no matter what, they’ll always jab at the age gap. it’s always flashing cameras followed by comments, from “your relationship is inappropriate” “she’s young enough to be your daughter” and even, “is you dating an older man rooted in daddy issues?”
a video of the interaction goes viral and all the comments are offering support for the two of you:
they are both consenting adults. those who can’t accept that need to grow up and mind their own business.
these poor angels. the paparazzi is disgusting, ill never understand why it’s still a thing
they’re both grown leave them the fuck alone
daddy issues?? holy shit. the pap is getting so much worse.
two talented people reduced to their relationship. do better
you knew accepting a job on television came with its consequences, but you weren’t going to let people who get paid to be nosy stand in the way of your dream. so, with time you had learned how to handle paparazzi with ease. what was typically praise now being sprinkled with hate, it got harder and harder to ignore.
because the more someone says something about you, the more you start to believe it.
why is he with me? is this weird? am i wrong? is he wrong?
Whenever Matthew happened to be with you during these paparazzi incidents, he’d always guide you through the crowd by the small of your back or your hand. Weaving through people wordlessly, only whispering assurances into your ear, squeezing your hand to calm your heart beating in your ears.
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The whole ride home to your apartment is silent. With Matthew, you two are always talking, always sharing thoughts, making the occasional silence reason for concern.
“Are you okay? You din’t say more than a word or two at a time not the way home,” he says while shutting the apartment door behind him.
“Are we, wrong?” you turn to gaze up at him through your lashes, the look on your face hurt.
“What do you mean, angel?” he croons, concern and confusion blossoming across his face.
“Like,” you pause and scoff, trying to find the words for your question. “Is what we’re doing wrong. Being together.”
“Do you not want to do it anymore? Cause we don’t have to-” his face turns to worry, your heart dropping at the thought of him thinking you’d say anything other than no. because no matter what anyone says, he’s so in love with you he can’t even imagine losing you.
“no! oh my gosh, no.” you’re quick to assure, holding his face in your hands. it’s just exhausting. why are they so concerned with our lives? can they not just-“
“you love me?” he interrupts, looking at you intently.
“what?” you scoff in disbelief, pulling back slightly. “of course I do - why?”
“because I love you. And that’s all that matters, yeah?” he brushes his thumb across your cheek, gazing into your eyes so lovingly. he always looks at you that way.
“It could be worse. They could be comparing me to Leonardo DiCaprio,” he smiles, causing the corners of your mouth to turn up, “and I’m definitely not DiCaprio level.”
“If you were, you would’ve dropped me when I turned 25,” you snicker and he sighs, throwing his head back.
“You’re funny, you know that?”
“I’d hope so. It’s kind of my job.”
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mgg x SNL cast member taglist
@sarcasm-and-stiles @mystargirl-interlude @rubyirene @ashrrams @ghostatrixx @forevermorepassionate @saint-boudica @reidmarieprentiss @awakeforu @spencerlicious @kittycat-april @baudarling @delusional-4-fake-people @avenlymars @angelinajolie0213 @arusio @littleslayofhorrors @jezabelle9299 @jaemnationnn @princess-ofthe-pages @flow33didontsmoke
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requiemforthepoets · 2 days ago
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broadway darling 𖦹 LN4
PAIRINGS: lando norris x sainz!reader
SUMMARY: you and lando never met each other in person despite him being best friends with your brother, but when carlos had dragged him to your opening night, he hated to admit it but he was charmed by you.
REMINDERS: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.
WARNINGS: no use of y/n in the narrations, photo do not belong to me and all photos are taken from pinterest, inconsistencies of photos, use of y/n on the smau, not proofread, magui, profanities, mean comments, and typos
WORD COUNT: 696
FACE CLAIMS: taken from pinterest
AUTHOR’S NOTE: i missed writing for lando 😭 i made this one shot/smau to appease my broadway x f1 racer agenda in my mind, and since i’m a big fan of les miz and hamilton. though let me know if you want part 2 lol i hope you’ll enjoy this one as much as i enjoyed writing it! this one’s for all the theatre girlies out there (i hope i did you justice 🥹)
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It was an unspoken rule that opening nights were sacred in your family. The excitement, nerves, and anticipation of the curtain rising for the first time in Melbourne—it was all part of the magic you had fallen in love with since your broadway debut at sixteen. Tonight was no different, the backstage bustle surrounded you, but you remained calm, dressed in your costume for Fantine, the tragic heroine of Les Misérables.
The makeup team finished their final touches, ensuring every detail conveyed the pain and hope of the character. You took a deep breath, whispering a quiet prayer as the stage manager gave the fifteen-minute warning.
In the plush velvet seats of the packed theater, your family had taken their places. Carlos was flanked by your parents on one side and, to your surprise, his best friend, Lando Norris, by his side. You had heard of Lando countless times through Carlos’ stories, seen him in the occasional instagram post or race weekend interview, but never met him in person. Lando was not exactly the type you imagined sitting through a three-hour musical, but there he was, impeccably dressed in a tailored suit, looking slightly out of place but undeniably intrigued.
“I still don’t understand why you brought me with you.” Lando murmured to Carlos as they flipped through the program.
“Because you need culture in your life,” Carlos teased, his voice low to avoid drawing attention. “Besides, it’s my sister. I’m always there to support her.”
Lando just nodded, unsure what to really expect. He had heard of you, of course, Carlos never stopped talking about his little sister’s accomplishments, but he had never seen you perform. Lando wasn’t even sure how someone who belted out ballads for a living would compare to the thrill of racing, but as the curtains rose and you stepped onto the stage, he felt something shift.
When you sang I Dreamed a Dream, the theatre fell silent, and Lando forgot to breathe. He didn’t know much about broadways and musicals, but even he could tell this was something special. There was a rawness in your voice, an honesty that made him feel like you were baring your soul to every person in the audience, him included.
“You good?” Carlos asked, his tone laced with curiosity.
Lando blinked and sat up straighter. “She's…really good.”
“Told you,” Carlos smirked, “she’s a broadway darling for a reason.”
Lando did not respond, his eyes fixed on you as you poured your heart into the performance, and by the time the curtain fell and the audience erupted into applause, he was on his feet, clapping so hard his palms stung. Carlos laughed as he nudged him.
“I think you liked it more than me, mate.” Carlos chuckled.
“She’s, uh, really talented.” Lando flushed, rubbing the back of his neck. Carlos raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
Backstage, you were surrounded by castmates and well-wishers when Carlos arrived, with a bouquet of flowers in hand.
“You killed it out there!” He said, pulling you into a bear hug. “Mamá and Papá are so proud, they couldn’t even stop crying.”
“Thank you,” you smiled, wiping a bit of makeup from your cheek. “It felt good tonight.” You admitted, though your eyes flicked curiously to the familiar figure a few steps behind Carlos.
Carlos caught your glance and stepped aside. “Oh, right, this is Lando. You know him, my best friend.”
“Hello.” You said warmly, extending a hand.
Lando stared at you for a second too long before quickly shaking your hand. “Hey, uh, you were amazing. Like, really amazing.”
“Thank you,” you said, smiling at his slightly awkward demeanor. “I’m glad that you enjoyed it. I never pegged you for a theatre type.”
Carlos snorted. “Oh, he’s not. He didn’t even know who Fantine was before tonight.”
“Hey, I know now.” Lando muttered as he shot Carlos a look, which made you laugh.
“Well, it’s nice to finally meet you, Lando,” you said. “Thank you for coming.”
As you turned your attention back to Carlos to discuss dinner plans, Lando just stood there, hands shoved into his trouser pockets, feeling like he had just been hit by a train.
ynsainz
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liked by carlossainz55, yourbestfriend, lesmizofficial, iamrebeccad, landonorris and 456,736 others
tagged: lesmizofficial
ynsainz do you hear the people sing? 🇫🇷❤️
opening night of les misérables in melbourne was nothing short of magical. i’m so grateful for the chance to bring fantine’s story to life again and share it with the people i love the most. a night that i’ll never forget! ❤️✨
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carlossainz55 incredible, hermanita! Proud doesn’t even begin to cover it ❤️
ynsainz AAAAAHHH LOVE YOU 🥺❤️
iamrebeccad you.are.amazing! GIRL THOSE PIPES YOU HAVE!!
ynsainz rebeccaaa, thank you so much!! i’m glad that you were able to come 🥺❤️
iamrebeccad of course! wouldn’t miss it for the world!!! 🥰
landonorris amazing show last night! first theatre experience and definitely won’t be the last 👏🏻🙌🏻
ynsainz thank you lando! glad that les miz was your first theatre experience. well, hoping to see you again soon! 😆
lesmizofficial opening night couldn’t have been more better, it was unforgettable! you’ve brought fantine to life in a way that will resonate for years to come. the team couldn’t be prouder of you! ❤️
ynsainz thank you, les misérables! 🥺❤️
username1 PERFECTION PERFECTION PERFECTION
username2 carlos wasn’t lying when he said he’s sister a star 🥹 i came for the sainz connection and left absolutely blown away by your TALENT!!!!
username3 an icon, a legend, a queen!!!!!!
username4 I STILL CANT BELIEVE THAT I WATCHED YOU LIVE 😭😭😭😭
username4 I NEED TO SEE YOU ON LES MIZ TOUR I CANT LET THIS PASS BY 😭😭😭
username5 THE MEMES 😭😭😭
username6 THEATRE KIDS UNITE!!!
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f1gossip
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liked by username1, username2, username3, username4 and 20,837 others
tagged: ynsainz, carlossainz55, landonorris
f1gossip is there something more than just racing between lando norris and the sainz family?
spotted: lando norris attending the opening night of les miserables in melbourne with none other than carlos sainz and his family just days before the aussie grand prix weekend.
the mclaren driver, who’s usually more focused on the track than the theatre, seemed to be all flirty and smiles as he mingled with carlos’ little sister, ynsainz—the broadway darling herself! rumors have been swirling around ever since lando was seen front and center at the opening night, and now, it’s got us wondering…is there something between the two off-track?
while lando’s always kept his private life under the wraps, this cozy night with the sainz fam is raising some eyebrows. could les miserables be just the beginning? are we seeing a new f1 power couple in the making?
drop your thoughts below! ❤️
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username7 okay, but if lando is really into her, can we talk about what an upgrade this is from his usual dating rumors? she’s a literal goddess. broadway, west end, and disney??? ma’am.
username8 so lando’s in attendance at les miz in melbourne? okay, that’s cool, but is it bad that i care more about her perfomance than this so-called gossip? priorities, people!
username9 not at all!! everyone here in the comsec acting like they personally know lando or y/n lmao what a bunch of losers
username10 this is a bit of stretch, don’t you guys think? maybe he’s genuinely wanted to be there for support. he’s literally best friends with carlos and close with the sainz, is it now bad to support a best friend’s family member? not every guy and girl showing support or hanging out equates to dating.
username9 SPEAK YOUR TRUTH!!!
username1 finally, someone saying relevant here for once!!!
username11 can we please stop making everything a love story? maybe she’s just being nice and lando’s just being lando
username12 oh you are so sick for tagging the people involved in your nonsense gossip!!! leave them alone!!!!
username13 now why us, broadway fans, suddenly being dragged into an f1 drama? can we just stay away from this and focus on supporting her and appreciating her talent? we don’t need this kind of drama
username14 lol lando is just tagging along with carlos like they usually do! NOT EVERYTHING HAS TO BE A SHIP NOR A DATING RUMOR!
username15 she’s just probably using him for clout lmfao
username16 i don’t ship it, but if carlos approves, i guess it’s fine
username2 ????? weirdo
username17 she’s been killing it on broadway since she was young. why do people always have to reduce talented women to ‘who they’re dating/involved’ with? do better people, you all are really embarrassing
username18 honestly, i don’t really care who she’s dating. just give me tickets to see her next performance 😭
username3 oh you’re so really for this
username4 why do broadway tickets have to be so expensive 😭😭😭
username5 bank heist plan meeting at my house at 8pm, pull up
username6 time to sell feet pics 😔💔
username19 she’s just gonna use lando for fame just like *coughs* magui *coughs* and besides, she wouldn’t be famous if it weren’t for carlos LMAO what a nepo baby
username7 DON’T YOU EVER COMPARED THAT VILE AND WRETCHED WOMAN TO Y/N! THE BLANTANT DISRESPECT. SHES BEEN SELLING OUT THEATRE BEFORE YOU COULD SPELL BROADWAY. CARLOS MAY BE HER BROTHER BUT HER TALENT GOT WHERE SHE IS RIGHT NOW. SIT THE FUCK DOWN. I HOPE YOU CHOKE ON THAT COUGH OF YOURS.
username8 username7 SLAYED, ATE, DEVOURED, LEFT NO CRUMBS
username20 yeah, i don’t really trust her. she’s probs only interested in lando bc of the clout that comes with being an f1 wag
username9 you DISGUST me. clout? clout??? mary, she’s the one with standing ovations every night. meanwhile, you’re hating from your couch. maybe try again.
username21 LANDO IN SPECS 😭😭😭 HES SO DREAMY 🥺🥺🥺
username10 people out here are tearing each other apart and so close in inciting civil war, while you’re out here commenting lando looks good in specs is so REAL 😭😭😭
username11 the vibe i bring to the function:
username22 the whole comsec got me laughing my ass off 😭 y’all are really bursting your nerves over this gossip that is completely baseless 😭😭😭 it’s NORMAL for him to hang out with carlos’ family and show support to carlos’ family member. like what the other commenter said, not everything has to be a dating rumor 😭😭😭
username12 EXACTLY.
username22 these people need to unclench their asshole. like omfg relax, brenda!
username23 if this is true, i don’t like it. lando needs someone who understands his world, not some theatre diva who’s only there for the spotlight
username13 ???? theatre diva ???? she’s literally been called the voice of this generation, a generational talent. she DOESNT need lando or his world, she has her own. stay bitter, though
username24 why are people so mean? she’s insanely talented and gorgeous.
username14 some people are just really fucking opinionated, like they know lando personally and that their opinions would matter. well news flash, lando wouldn’t even bat an eyelash at you nor date you all. fucking weirdos
username25 welp, this isn’t the comment section that i was expecting at all 🧍🏻‍♀️
username26 is this a civil war between f1 stans and broadway stans? 😭😭😭😭
username27 vroom vroom kids vs. theatre kids
username28 this post alone had incited a civil war between f1 stans and broadway stans 😭
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littlelamy · 1 day ago
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Request hehe: Maybe Reader has some trust issues due to past cheating etc. So she is constantly doubting If Rafe is doing something behind her back and it’s damaging their relationship/Rafe is feeling very offended that she could ever think that and leaves very upset. So some self-sabotage on her part.
a/n: thank you so much for requesting!! 💗 pngs from @saizun
the tension in the room was as palpable as the crisp autumn air seeping through the edges of rafe's window. you stood by the edge of the bed, arms crossed, while rafe paced near the door, his brows furrowed and lips drawn tight. it wasn’t the first time you’d found yourself in this situation—accusations hanging in the air like a storm cloud.
“i just don’t get why you think i’m lying to you,” rafe finally said, running a hand through his messy blond hair. his voice was raw, teetering between frustration and sadness. “what did i do this time?”
the pang of guilt that shot through you was immediate, but it was quickly overshadowed by the relentless doubt that had been gnawing at you for weeks.
“i don’t know, rafe,” you muttered, staring down at your hands. “you’re just… too good to be true sometimes. i mean, look at you.” you gestured vaguely at his tall, athletic frame, the way he looked even in a simple t-shirt and jeans. “how do i know you’re not out there talking to someone else? everyone likes you.”
he stopped pacing, standing still for a moment as your words sank in.
“you think just because people like me, i’d cheat on you?” his voice was quiet, but it carried a weight that made you wince.
“it’s not like that—”
“then what is it like, y/n?” he interrupted, his tone sharp now. he stepped closer, his piercing blue eyes locking onto yours. “because this isn’t the first time we’ve had this conversation. you keep accusing me of something i’m not doing, and it’s…” he exhaled shakily, taking a step back. “it’s killing me, honestly.”
the tears you’d been holding back began to sting your eyes. you hated how this always ended—with you feeling like the villain and rafe looking at you like you’d just run over his dog.
“it’s not about you,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “it’s about me. i’ve been through this before, rafe. i’ve trusted someone before, and they… they betrayed me.”
“and i’m paying for what someone else did?” his voice cracked, and he shook his head in disbelief. “do you even hear yourself?”
you stayed silent, your chest tightening with every second that passed.
rafe let out a bitter laugh, running his hands over his face. “do you really think i’m that kind of person? that after everything we’ve been through, i’d just—what? throw it all away for someone else?”
“i don’t know!” you blurted out, tears finally spilling over. “i don’t know what to believe anymore. i want to trust you, rafe, but it’s so hard. every time you’re late, every time you get a text and don’t tell me who it’s from, my mind goes to the worst place.”
“that’s not fair,” he said, his voice trembling with emotion. “you don’t even give me the benefit of the doubt. you don’t even try to trust me.”
you wiped at your tears angrily, hating how vulnerable you felt. “maybe i don’t know how,” you admitted, your voice breaking.
rafe stared at you for a long moment, his jaw clenching and unclenching as he fought to keep his composure.
“i can’t do this,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.
your heart sank. “what do you mean?”
“i can’t keep proving myself to you when i’ve done nothing wrong,” he said, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “i love you, y/n. i love you so much it hurts, but this?” he gestured between the two of you. “this is tearing me apart.”
you took a step toward him, panic rising in your chest. “rafe, please. i’m sorry. i’ll work on it, i promise. just don’t… don’t leave.”
but he shook his head, his expression a mixture of sadness and resolve. “i need some time to think,” he said, his voice trembling. “i can’t keep feeling like i’m not enough for you when i’ve given you everything i have.”
he turned and walked out the door, leaving you standing there in stunned silence. the sound of the front door closing echoed through the house, and you collapsed onto the bed, sobbing into your hands.
you had pushed him away. the one person who had always been there for you, who had loved you despite your flaws, was gone—and it was your fault.
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the days that followed were a blur. you went through the motions of life, but everything felt hollow without rafe. he didn’t call, didn’t text, and the silence was deafening. you wanted to reach out, to beg for his forgiveness, but every time you picked up your phone, the shame stopped you.
instead, you spent your time reflecting on the mess you’d made. you thought about the way you’d let your past dictate your present, how you’d let your insecurities poison something good.
you thought about rafe’s face the last time you saw him—the hurt in his eyes, the way his voice broke when he said he loved you.
you loved him too. you always had. but you’d let your fear overshadow that love, and now you were paying the price.
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a week later, you found yourself standing outside rafe’s house, your heart pounding in your chest. you’d rehearsed what you wanted to say a million times, but now that you were here, your mind was blank.
taking a deep breath, you knocked on the door.
it opened a moment later, and there he was—rafe, looking as handsome as ever despite the tiredness in his eyes.
“y/n,” he said, his voice soft but guarded.
“hi,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “can i come in?”
he hesitated for a moment before stepping aside to let you in. you walked into the living room, the familiar space feeling foreign without the warmth you were used to.
“i’m sorry for just showing up,” you said, turning to face him. “i just… i needed to see you.”
he nodded, crossing his arms over his chest. “what do you want, y/n?”
“i want to fix this,” you said, your voice trembling. “i want to fix us.”
rafe let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “you can’t just say that and expect everything to go back to normal.”
“i know,” you said quickly. “i know i’ve hurt you, and i hate myself for it. but i’ve spent the last week thinking about everything, and i realized… i’ve been so unfair to you, rafe. i let my past ruin what we had, and i’m so sorry.”
he looked at you, his expression unreadable. “do you even trust me?”
“yes,” you said without hesitation. “or… i want to. i know i’ve given you every reason to think i don’t, but i do, rafe. i trust you more than anyone. i’m just scared. scared of losing you, scared of getting hurt again.”
“you’re not the only one who’s scared,” he said, his voice softening. “do you know how it feels to love someone who’s always waiting for you to screw up? to feel like no matter what you do, it’s never going to be enough?”
tears welled up in your eyes, and you stepped closer to him. “i’m so sorry, rafe,” you whispered. “i never meant to make you feel that way. you are enough—more than enough. and i don’t want to lose you because i couldn’t get out of my own head.”
he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “i don’t know, y/n. i don’t know if i can keep doing this.”
“please,” you said, your voice breaking. “i’ll do better. i’ll prove to you that i can be better, that i can trust you the way you deserve to be trusted.”
he studied your face, his blue eyes searching yours for any sign of doubt.
“i love you,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “but this has to change. i can’t keep living like this.”
“it will,” you promised, stepping closer and taking his hands in yours. “i’ll change. i’ll prove to you that i can be better.”
he sighed but didn’t pull away from you. “this is your last chance, y/n,” he said quietly. “i mean it.”
“i won’t waste it,” you promised, looking up at him.
for a moment, there was nothing but silence between you, the tension thick and heavy. then, slowly, rafe’s hands moved to cup your face.
“don’t make me regret this,” he murmured, his voice soft and raw.
“i won’t,” you whispered, your breath hitching as he leaned down.
his lips met yours in a kiss that was both desperate and tender, a silent promise of forgiveness and hope. you clung to him, pouring every ounce of your love and regret into the kiss, vowing to yourself that this time, you would get it right.
when he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his eyes closed.
“i love you, baby,” he said again, his voice steady this time.
“i love you too,” you whispered, your heart swelling with both relief and determination.
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crookedteethed · 2 days ago
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18+ - mdni
ᥫ᭡. kook! jj, who can't keep his dick to himself.
warning: toxic!jj, cheating, public sex (fingering), language
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You sighed, watching JJ flirt shamelessly with yet another woman at the Country Club bar. His pearly whites flashed as he leaned in close, whispering something that made her giggle. You rolled your eyes, sipping your martini.
A familiar pang of jealousy twisted in your gut, but you pushed it aside. This was nothing new. JJ had always been a player, even back when you first met him. You'd known exactly what you were getting into.
Still, you couldn't help but wonder why you stayed.
Maybe it was the way his khakis and Polo hugged his athletic frame, or how his cologne lingered tantalizingly whenever he brushed past. Or perhaps it was the thrill of being with someone so desired, knowing you were the one he came home to at the end of the night.
As if sensing your gaze, JJ glanced over and winked. Damn him and that roguish grin. Your anger melted away as he excused himself and sauntered back, sliding onto the barstool beside you.
With a sinister smirk, he leaned in close and whispered, "Did you miss me, gorgeous?" His hand slid up your thigh with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. Despite your anger, JJ's touch ignited a fire within you that you couldn't resist.
Your mind raced as he brushed the hem of your skirt, reminding you of all the times he had bought you gifts to win you over. But this time, his touch felt like a threat, like a possessive mark left on your body.
"This a cute piece," he taunted, pulling at the fabric possessively,
"Did I buy you this cute little number?"You could feel yourself weakening under his manipulative hold and hated yourself for still wanting him despite everything he had done.
You tried to push away the memories, but they flooded back as his fingers traced patterns on your skin.
"I can tell your side piece over there can't get enough of you," you growled, nodding towards the girl JJ had been cozying up to, who was now frantically scanning the room for him.
"She ain't missing me, she's just craving my dick. I've already had her once--" he says casually, as if it means nothing.
"When?" you interrupt, your jealousy fueling your words. But deep down, you already know the answer and it makes your stomach churn with disgust.
"I don't know." Jay shrugs. " A week or so ago? Two weeks ago, maybe." He casually said, as if it means nothing.
Your blood boils and you feel sick to your stomach.
"You're such a pig," you spit out, unable to contain your disgust any longer. With a heavy heart, you stand up and walk away, unable to bear being near JJ any longer. But of course, he follows behind you, trying to make excuses or apologies that fall on deaf ears.
"Hey, come on, don't be like that," Jay's voice echoes after you, his footsteps pounding against the linoleum floors as he rushes to catch up. "I was just being honest."
You spin around, seething with rage as you lock eyes with him. "Honest? You're supposed to be loyal to me, Jackson, but instead you're out here screwing other women behind my back?" Every word drips with venom as you advance towards him, ready to unleash your pent-up fury.
"Sweetheart, come on." JJ tries to smooth things over in his suave manner, glancing around the deserted hallway before pulling you closer by your hips. "You know I love you, right? You're my everything."
JJ's face may have been a replica of his mother's flawless beauty, but his father's manipulative nature runs through his veins like a toxic poison.
The mere thought of Groff's influence on him ignites a fierce rage within you, intensifying as you feel JJ's hand creeping up your skirt once again--this time his fingers exploring the delicate lace of your panties. You can sense his intent, and it sends shivers down your spine as you struggle to contain the boiling fury inside you.
"You know I wouldn't intentionally hurt you, baby." His words do little to calm the storm brewing inside you as he looks at you with those soft, doe-like eyes--damn him--just as his palm cups your throbbing sex.
A moan escapes your lips as his cool Signant Ring presses against your engorged clit.
"Jay, we can't do this here," you hiss, turning your head to scan for any onlookers.
"Who says we can't?" He counters, a wicked grin spreading across his face.
Your senses are heightened as your eyes dart around, searching for prying eyes or gossiping villagers. The thought of being caught only intensifies the thrill coursing through your veins.
"Jay, please," you mewl, feigning resistance, though your hips betray you by arching closer to his touch. His lips curve into a smirk, knowing how deeply his ministrations affect you. He uses this knowledge ruthlessly as he presses down on your sweet spot with just enough pressure to have your toes curling in your heels.
"No one's looking," he whispers in your ear, his voice low and velvety, just as his fingers slipped beneath the silk of your panties. A shiver ran down your spine at the feeling of his fingertips brushing against your bare skin.
As JayJay's skilled fingers continued their exploration, your mind clouded over with desire. The combination the warmth of the room, and the knowledge that you could be discovered at any moment only served to heighten your arousal. You gripped the wall, desperate for support as sensation after sensation washed over you.
Suddenly, he slipped a single finger inside of you, and you couldn't help but moan louder this time, Smitten by lust, you didn't care. All that mattered was the delicious friction between your legs, the expert way his fingers moved in and out of you, plundering your depths with practiced ease.
As JayJay added a second finger, stretching you open even further, every ounce of resentment and jealousy you harbored vanished into thin air.
The smooth, probing digits hitting all the right spots within you, sending shivers of pleasure coursing through your entire body. All that mattered in that moment was the exquisite sensations building up inside of you, demanding release.
That bitch at the bar, JJ's insufferable bragging about their sexual conquests—none of it mattered anymore. The only thing that mattered was the overwhelming need to come on JayJay's fingers, right there in the dimly lit corridors, far away from prying eyes but close enough to tease with the risk of getting caught.
The silence around you was deafening, broken only by the wet sounds of arousal escaping as Jay fingers pumped faster into your cunt, his blue eyes never leaving your face.
JJ could feel the tight grip of your pulsing pussy around his fingers, a clear indication that you were on the brink of ecstasy. He knows that if he can make you gush and lose control, you will forget about everything else - him, the girl at the bar, and any other thoughts that may have been occupying your mind.
JayJay added a third finger, stretching you deliciously, his thumb circling your clit as he began a relentless assault on your most sensitive spots. The wall behind you felt like the only thing keeping you grounded as your senses swam with lust and need. His gaze bored into yours, his smirk widening as he witnessed the effect he had on you. You were open and vulnerable in more ways than one.
The corridor spun dizzyingly around you, but all you could focus on was the pleasure building up inside you, coiled tighter and tighter as JayJay continued his expert ministrations. Your moans became louder, more desperate, and you didn't care who heard or saw anymore. All that mattered was reaching the peak that was so close yet so far away.
"That's it, baby," he cooed. "Let it all out f'me."
His words sent a shiver down your spine, and you felt yourself teetering on the edge. JayJay's fingers curled inside you, hitting that perfect spot that made you see stars. Your legs trembled, threatening to give out as the pressure built to an almost unbearable level.
"J-JayJay," you gasped, your voice barely above a whisper. "I'm so close…"
He leaned in, his hot breath tickling your ear as he whispered, "Then come for me, sweetheart. Let me feel you fall apart."
That was all it took. With a cry that echoed through the corridor, you came undone around his fingers. Waves of pleasure crashed over you, your body shaking as JayJay worked you through your orgasm. He held you steady, his free arm wrapping around your waist to keep you upright as you rode out the high.
Jay’s lips curled into that devilish smirk—a signature of his, one that both thrilled and infuriated you. His fingers, slick with evidence of your surrender, brushed against your thigh as he slowly retreated, deliberately leaving a trail of heat in their absence. His blue eyes bored into yours, darkened with triumph and something more primal, something that left your knees trembling.
And just like that, JJ had you again in his magnet tar pit trap.
As JJ removed his fingers from your panties and brought them to your lips, coating your mouth in your own juices, savoring the sweet, musky taste of arousal. His eyes locked with yours, a challenge dancing in their depths.
"Taste yourself," he said, his voice low and commanding. Your cheeks flushed red, but the arousal coursing through your veins overpowered any last shreds of modesty.
Slowly, you parted your lips and closed them around his fingers, lapping up every drop of your essence. Your heart pounded in your chest as your tongue swirled around his digits, a sultry dance of your submission and desire.
JJ had treated you like shit, you knew, your friends knew, even JJ himself knew, yet you couldn't help the craving that swelled within you for him—a craving to be claimed, to be marked, to be his in every way that mattered.
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as always, reblogs and comments keeps me motivated. 🫶🏾
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carbonfiction · 2 days ago
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Could you do some angst Logan x mutant!reader comfort. Like maybe she has a similar origin to Logan where she was tested on for her powers and escaped. She ends up at the mansion and that’s how her and Logan end up together.
I’ve been wanting to write this myself for a while but haven’t had time. I need to see some truama bonding and comfort for that man with someone who really understands what it’s like. I would give anything to be that person. 😭
Hi anon!! Im so sorry this has taken me so long to get to- despite some little changes on the request, and my unsureness on writing angst, i hope you enjoy this drabble!
One step at a time
Summary: sleep can be a fickle thing, a struggle more personal than most.. But it just so happens theres another person in the mansion that understands. Written with X1 logan in mind!
Warnings?: angst, mentions of nightmares and troubled sleep, self doubt, slight depression? Comfort and fluff at the end? Idk how to tag this really.. Words: 1.5k Masterlist
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People were scared of things they didn’t understand, of people that didn’t fit in to a societal box. And being a mutant? Well, you became the scariest thing of all. An unknown, a secret unshared in a room full of people.
To some, that fear, that little nagging doubt about what you are, what you could do.. fuelled somthing else entirely. Not fear, not quite, more an evil kind of curiosity. A fixation to poke and prod, bend and snap, push the limits of their fear regardless of yours in the name of science. Regardless that you too, we’re a person, different now yes, but still born of the same matter once.
Careless to the person you were, only the thing you could become. And even then, if you weren’t useful.. you were useless. Another mistake in a pile of scraped idea's, a caged creature begging for a way out.
You never wanted it, never asked to sit in a room and wonder why. Why you, why this. There was never a good enough answer, never a reason, not really. Some People were just cruel, vile and nasty, out for their own gain.. to test the limits of humanity.
But then it begged the question, what was humanity? Because it wasn’t this. It wasn’t the sleepless nights afraid to close your eyes. The sanctity of sleep a luxury. Peace a rationed thing.
Therefore It had become normal to find you in the dead of night, curled up the couch in front of the fireplace; whilst everyone else slumbered. Sometimes a book in hand, other times just your thoughts. Embered flames burning bright and warm, the crackle of wood often the only sound. It was how your relationship with Logan had bloomed.
From wordless nods walking down corridors to conversations and nights shared infront of the fire; he had become pleasant company, a friend you regarded higher- one who understood better- than most. He'd seen the same horrors behind his eyes, the years a tiresome thing.
So it's here you sit, like always, in your spot on the couch peering between pages of a book and the old grandfather clock, waiting for Logan.
It was late and he'd usually show up around now, your meetings held in a trusted pact- an agreement that if sleep held pain, this is where you'd find one another. It was up to choice then, if you'd relocate to one of your room's; if you felt the embrace of the others arms would quiet the horror, just for a while.
Because while it's true that you both may no longer be broken here in the mansion.. you'd always be bruised bone deep.
"Hey" Logan murmers softly, breaking you from your thoughts as you crane your neck toward him. Hes stood tall in the doorway, clad in sweats and a white vest, two steaming mugs in hand as he pads closer, handing you one over the back of the couch. "Figured you'd want a drink, tried to make it how you like"
You nod, taking a tentative sip with a greatful smile. Your eyes fluttering shut a moment as you swallow, relishing the warmth. Logan had indeed made it the exact way he knew you loved, and it swells your heart; the fondness you feel for the action- for him. "'S perfect, thank you.."
"Was nothin.." he shrugs, sighing into his own cup, back hitting the couch besides you. the cushions are a soft embrace for his aching body, the days seeming longer. He'd confessed one night, that the winter had never helped his affliction. That the cold air made his adamantium bones ache in a way that seemed impossible to describe. The sting of his knuckles that bit sharper with each snikt of his claws.
You shift quietly, book page marked and now placed on the coffee table. Logan watches silently as you reach for the soft blanket that lays dormant on the back. Your fingers adjusting the fabric carefully, unfolding and draping it until it rests over his knees too.
Logan smiles, a look reserved for these nights- for you- in his eyes. Its a soft, greatful, little thing; Unreminicent of his usual gruff demeanor. he lifts a large arm bringing it to rest snug behind your shoulders, tugging you closer.
Theres a comfortable silence that follows then, sat side by side. Logan simply watches as you pick the book back up, resuming your page. A warm feeling in his chest that he hasn't felt for a while as your eyes flit across the words.
He still cant understand how anyone could- would- hurt you. Would even dare harm a delicate hair on your head. It boils a possessive type of anger inside of him, that people, the very same that had hurt him, had dared. That they had ruined your trust, made you into something of their design, just like him.
And Its then that Logan cant help how his mouth moves, how it burts the words before he can even think to stop them, make them sound less jumbled. "You uh.. didn't deserve it you know?.. What they did"
The words feel foreign on his tongue but they hold meaning- one that you can feel as you cast your gaze to him.
Theres a look in your eyes he cant quite read as you hum honestly. "Neither did you. you know that right?"
And Logan knows. Hell its deep down but he knows. Yet hearing the words still bring an ache to his chest. Its beyond hard for him to even think about- admit really- even after all this time. He hadn't deserved it and neither had you. But that was certain weather perceived or not.
"Im.. Tired, logan" you trail quietly, casting your book aside as your head falls to rest on his shoulder. "Just.. So tired of being tired."
A shattering feeling stabs at Logan's chest from your admission, a sigh falling against your hair. "I know you are. Hell so am i but.." he pauses, trying to find the correct sentiment.
"We- you- can do this"
You can't help the exhaled sound that slips from you, not a laugh, not not a breath either. "Logan-" you try to protest, try to shift back inside your non vulnerable shell ready to shut down, but he has you locked next to him, fingers coming to rest on your jaw.
"No, look at me, Cmon" he murmurs, cupping and turning your cheek gently until your gaze meet his. "like you told me that once. Its one step at a time alright?"
You recall saying it, remember the context, and yet the idea of saying it to yourself feels foreign- as foreign as the words blurted from logans tongue.
He'd had a nightmare that night, had woken with a hoarse scream and his claws embedded in the plush mattress; pillows ruined with feathers everywhere, soaked in sweat. You'd come barreling in from downstairs having heard his sounds of distress, knowing the situation.
But.. You hadn't laughed, despite him being so surrounded by pillow feathers that he's sure he looked like big bird. You hadn't been cruel or judgemental, pitty in your eyes. You'd just been.. Well, you. Kind and understanding, reassuring him that it was okay, that he was safe. To take a shower and you'd sort the rest. It was from then that the fondness he felt for you had bloomed to something a little more inside of him.
You nod gently, a small, barely there smile on your lips now as you repeat. The light of the fire a soft glow in your eyes, tone a fraction more hopeful. "One step at a time"
"Yeah, thats it sweetheart" he smiles gently, a proud look in his own eye's, before his throat clears. A bashful look taking over his features as he continues, thumb absentmindedly stroking over your cheekbone. A distraction to the honesty he was going to drop "Besides.. you got this knucklehead who'd really like to keep this.. Us.. up"
You swallow, breath stuttering as your cheeks heat."You.. You would?" you sound a little surprised, yet a little hopeful, and It makes Logan smile, hearing your heart pounding in your chest.
"Yeah sweetheart" he breathes, voice a low gravel as he anxiously nods, before rushing to add. "if- if thats something you'd want?"
"Yes!" you exclaim, so excitedly it makes logan chuckle, the deep rumble joining the crackling fire. "I, uh, i mean.. ofcourse i do Logan"
Logans fingers tilt your face higher, his forehead coming to rest on yours as your fingers trace over his scruff coated jaw. "Things are better with you.." you murmer, breath puffing over his lips. "Lighter. You get it, get me.. This.."
He hardly lets you finish before his lips are pressed to yours, breaking the miniscule gap between them. His kiss so uncharacteristically gentle, like he was afraid one taste and you'd break.
"Things are better with you too.." he says quietly, forehead on yours, a smile against your mouth as his nose rubs your cheek.
And so Its that night you both agree, while wrapped up in one another, that things are better together. Better with each others shoulder to lean on. And despite the darkness that would still linger sometimes, that's all that mattered. You and him. Him and you.
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yamumsyadadd · 3 days ago
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Las Blancas v Barca
teresa abelleira x barca!leon reader
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It wasn’t supposed to be a secret, or to come crashing down in the way it did. 
Tere wasn’t that much older than you, just four years. It was less than AMC and Mapi’s age gap but to your big sister, Tere was ancient. 
You officially met Tere when you were called up to the Spanish squad after the Las 15, at barely 18 years old it felt like a huge responsibility, and it was. Mapi had resigned from the team, as had fourteen other players. It look a lot of difficult conversations with Mapi, your parents, and Irene before you accepted. Even though Mapi had she she didn’t want to hold you back or hinder your career in anyway, you could tell there was a part of her that was disappointed. Not in you, but in the RFEF. 
It was the beginning of the rift between the two of you and that’s why your relationship with the Las Blancas player was kept a secret. From everyone. 
“Hi! I’m Tere, you’re Mapi’s little sister right?” 
“Yeah, y/n. Nice to officially meet you.” We shook hands in the lobby of the RFEF accommodation quarters. 
“Vilda asked me to show you around.” You walked around for a while, Tere showing you the lounge area, the cafeteria and the kitchen room. “It’ll be good to get to know you when we aren’t battling against each other on the field!” She laughed and you knew then you were in trouble. 
Ever since that first day at camp, you were in deep. The curly haired, freckled face girl forced her way into your heart. No matter how hard you tried, she was always in your head, even when you were back in Barcelona and she was in Madrid. 
It was in Australia after the World Cup final when all the feelings came out. 
“Tere! We are world champions! World fucking champions!” The alcohol was coursing through your veins at the point, slightly aware of what you were thinking but the ability to stop yourself wasn’t there. 
“We are! And there’s no one else I’d rather do it with.” The skin under her hands made you tingle.
“You’re so beautiful.” It was meant to be a whisper but it was the complete opposite. 
Her lips came crashing down onto yours. It took a few seconds for your mind to register that this was a real thing and not just one of your many frequent dreams. Those few seconds was all it took for Tere to pull back, looking slightly horrified. 
“Oh my god. I’m so sor-“ it was your lips that shut her up. The only way you could describe the feeling of kissing her was like coming home. You both got carried away before she gently stopped. 
“Go on a date with me?” You agreed embarrassing fast. 
The dates were hard to navigate once you were back in Spain but you made it work and now, almost a year later, you were happy in your relationship even if it was a secret. 
It was the first camp back after the disappointing loss that followed the Olympics. Spains first, and potentially last. Finishing fourth and losing the bronze medal game was heartbreaking, for all those involved. There were photos that showed you and Tere looking a little more than teammates but not enough for anyone to truly say anything. But that didn’t apply to Jenni. 
As much as you loved her, she irritated you more than anyone else. Her reasoning was that she was just as much your sister as Mapi was and since Mapi wasn’t there to give you shit, she did it on her behalf. 
It was meant to be just gentle teasing, all in good nature. But after a while it got to you. Instead of being mature and actually discussing it with your girlfriend, you just completely ignored her. 
“Y/n!” Her footsteps were getting closer so you started walking faster, “amor!” She caught up to you easily, grabbing your wrist to spin you around, “why are you ignoring me? What’s wrong?” 
“I can’t deal with it anymore!” 
“With what?” 
“The-the teasing, the jokes, everything! At first it was whatever but now? Now they kept saying how much Mapi would hate it, ‘Barça v Real on the field but lovers in the bedroom’, not everything is about fucking sex.” 
“Hey, hey, it’s okay. I can ask Jenni to stop?”
“No, god no. Then she’ll know it’s true.” Tere dropped your hand, a look of hurt flashing across her face. 
“Is that really so bad? People knowing that you’re my girlfriend?” 
“Tere we both agreed, we wouldn’t tell anyone.”
“Are you ashamed of me? Is that it? I know that Barça and Real have a huge rivalry but I didn’t realise you would be so ashamed to be seen with me.” 
“Tere wait!” It was no use, she was already gone, “that wasn’t even what I meant.” 
Begrudgingly, you decided to join the dinosaurs in the rec room. Jenni and Misa were playing pool and Alexia and Irene were on the couch. You forced yourself between your two captains, head following onto Alexia’s shoulder. 
“You okay nena?” Irene poked your cheek. 
“No I messed things up.” Both girls gave you a curious look, encouraging you to carry on, “I may have said something that I shouldn’t have to someone and it hurt their feelings but my feelings were hurt first and now they are mad at me.” 
“Is this person someone who is important to you?” 
“Very. I love her, so much and I want everyone to know how much but it’s hard.” 
“There’s a difference between private and a secret. Which one does this girl fall under?” 
“A secret.” You mumbled out, knowing that chastising you were going to receive. 
“I’m going to take a wild stab in the dark here and say that you and this mystery girl agreed to keep your relationship a secret during the World Cup but now she wants to tell people?” Irene gave you a knowing smile, all you could do is nod your head. 
“I think you’re overdue for a proper conversation with Tere.” Your head shot up at Alexia’s words, eyes wide as if you’d been caught with your hand in the cookie jar, “she’s a good person. I would say great but she plays for Real. Go talk to her.” 
You shot up on your feet, quickly hugging and kissing both their cheeks and then you were off. It took a lot of grovelling and the promise to slowly start telling people. 
There was a plan in place, it had been throughly discussed and agreed upon but that all turned to shit as soon as you entered the locker room after the first El Classico game of the season. 
Everyone was extremely happy, as usual. Standing there, at the door way, you just blurted it out. 
“I’m in love with Teresa Abelleria and we have been dating for a year.” The entire room fell silent, everyone slowly turning to look at you, but all you could do was stand there like a deer in headlights. That was definitely not the plan. 
“What?” It was your sister’s voice that cut through the silence. 
“I, um-“ 
“A year? An entire fucking year and you kept this from me?” Mapi had started to make her way towards you, fury filled her face. 
“I was planning on telling you. I was. But I needed time to figure it out myself and not have anyone butt in with their unwanted opinions.” 
“My opinion doesn’t matter to you? That’s a bit rough. Your opinion matters to me, y/n.”
“Mapi that’s not what I meant and you know that!” 
“Then what did you mean! Use your fucking words!” She yelled. Everyone in the locker room was just watching it unfold. 
“Ever since I got called up to the senior team you’ve been disappointed in me! After every single game you always tell me what I need to do better, never once have you said ‘you played well today’ it’s always critical! So I’m sorry that I didn’t want to give you something else to criticise me for.” You turned and slammed the door open. 
After mindless walking, you found the Real Madrid locker room, you knocked before you entered, not wanting to walk in on anyone naked or worse, a useless pep talk. Tere noticed the dry tears straight away, pulling you into her chest and whispering reassurances in your ear. It took a while before you calmed down. 
“Talk to her amor. Listen to her and talk to her. I’ll see you tomorrow yeah?” She kissed your cheek and squeezed your hand before leaving. 
The bus ride was tense. Mapi and Ingrid were talking in hushed voices, occasionally glancing over towards you but you never noticed, too far in your own head. 
“Y/n can we please talk?” Mapi asked nervously after you’d all gotten off the bus. 
“I guess.” You shrugged your shoulders, following her line of sight to see Alexia and Ingrid looking over. 
“I was mad at you for keeping a secret but that wasn’t fair of me. You have every right to keep your relationships private and not tell me.” 
“Okay, good night.” 
“No! Wait! You said, you said I have been disappointed in you since you were called up but that’s not true. Absolutely not true, I am so proud. I’m just scared, scared that they will treat you like they treated me and the others.” She took a deep breath before continuing, “you have always been the biggest light. You are so pure, so full of sunshine and I didn’t want them to take it away from you but in being scared, I didn’t realise I would be the reason that you lost your light. So I’m sorry, so incredibly sorry and I’ll spend everyday making it up to you.” 
“Okay.” 
“Okay?” 
“Yeah. Tomorrow Tere and I are going out for breakfast. Do you and Ingrid want to come?” 
“YES!” Mapi shouted, jumping onto you and wrapping her limbs around. 
Breakfast the following morning was tense. Mapi looked angry, Ingrid just ignored her and continued to ask Tere questions to get to know her, actually caring about her answers. 
“Mapi, I need to apologise to you.” Tere said nervously. 
“What?” Mapi looked taken aback. 
“Throughout the whole Las 15 issues I didn’t stand by you. I did things and said things that I regret. I am so sorry for that, if I could I would go back and change everything. Stand by all of you from day one. The club- they wouldn’t let us. It was them or you and I didn’t want to lose my position on the team.” You gave her hand a squeeze for reassurance. It was a conversation that you had both many times. 
“Thanks for apologising. It hurt to know that my own national teammates didn’t have my back. Truly, I wish you all the best but I will never return. I hope you’re looking after my little sister when she’s there.” 
“Of course!” 
“Good because if you hurt her, I will ruin you.” She said it with a big smile on her face and Tere audibly gulped. 
“Maria!” 
It definitely took some time for Mapi to see you as a grown up in a relationship and there were some arguments about the age difference but all in all everything went smoothly. On camp, Mapi made the dinosaurs watch over the both of you. Never allowed to have time alone with Tere. The dinosaurs took her under their wing, just like they had with you. 
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