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doll3scent · 4 months ago

Text

★ Pornstar ★

John Price x cam girl! reader

Warnings- 18+-mdni, smut, age gap, cam girl reader, mentions of divorce, explicit language.

wc. 2.5k

a/n, This is my first post, english is not my first language so please bear with me. Pt 2 where she has a private video call with a fan ?

1, 2, 3,

master list 𓂃۶ৎ

You're a star-well, in a very particular sense.

Ghost's younger sister, though few people know that. You went by the stage name Angel Valentine, a name as alluring as the persona you crafted. In all your videos, you wore a delicate black lace eye mask, never willing to fully reveal your identity. You weren't about to let the world, or anyone who might recognize you, connect your real face to the adult websites you frequented. You were always adorned in expensive and delicate lingerie.

John Price had been struggling with loneliness since his divorce. Shamefully, he turned to adult websites and camgirls, seeking solace in fleeting moments of intimacy. That's when he found you-his Angel. You became his nightly obsession, his secret escape from the harshness of his reality. He watched you in the quiet solitude of his barracks, thought of you in the shower, your voice and movements occupying every corner of his mind.

So when he hears that voice—the honey-smooth tone that had haunted his nights—he freezes. He's standing in Ghost's backyard at a birthday party the team had forced together, trying to enjoy himself. But then you walked in.

The second your eyes lock with his, Price feels a heat flush through his body. It's you.

Those eyes, the ones that had gazed up at him so intimately through his screen, now meet his in the real world. His mind races, his chest tightens. He tries to focus, to play it cool, but his eyes betray him, drifting downward.

He knows your body too well-every curve, every detail engraved in his memory from hours of watching you. And yet here you are, standing just a few feet away, speaking to him as innocently as if you were strangers.

But all he can think about are the countless moments he's spent imagining you in positions that make his pulse quicken.

John continued to speak, his eyes flicking down to your lips every so often, thinking about how those same lips looked as you sucked on the pink dildo you always used. He suddenly remembered a video you did where you showed your viewers all you could fit inside your mouth. He had to adjust himself under the table subtly, trying not to get hard.

John spoke to you as if a man possessed, he couldn’t stop himself from speaking to you, he couldn’t stop himself from listening to your voice. He thought he sounded normal as he spoke to you, he thought he sounded casual and cool. But in reality he was trying painfully to hold back. Every time you spoke, he could only think of you calling him Daddy in your porn, and all the sounds you made as you rode different toys, he couldn’t clear his mind.

He had to adjust himself under the table again, the images of you on your back, legs spread, and that pretty little face of yours looking up at him behind the lace eye mask was too much. He tried to focus on anything to keep his mind off of it. The team were chatting, Gaz’s dog running around all the guests, but it still wasn’t enough to keep his mind fully off you.

The team, Ghost included, all noticed the strange interaction between you and Price, and they could tell he was acting strange. Soap and Gaz were the first to comment. “I’ve never seen the old man speak that much before” Gaz commented. “He’s almost never that chatty with us” Soap chuckled as he sipped his drink. “It’s very strange, I’m concerned.” Soap joked. Ghost, was very observant at his best of times, and the way Price was staring at your mouth was not lost on him.

The whole team knew Ghost was the possessive type, and if Price was eyeing up his little sister then that would not go down so well. Ghost watched Price with narrowed eyes, watching him intently.

Ghost leaned into the conversation and watched as you spoke enthusiastically with Price, your doe eyes gazing up at him like you worshipped the ground he walked on.

The team watched the interaction, watching Price flush every time you giggled or touched him on the arm. Soap and Gaz were amused with the whole thing, while Ghost was getting more pissed off by the second.

Price had to bite back a whimper as he watched you drink from that bottle. The way you wrapped your lips as they puckered around the tip, sucking the liquid from the bottle, Price’s mind was running WILD with the implications.

˚₊‧꒰ა ꣑ৎ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ Smut ₊‧꒰ა ꣑ৎ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Price closed the door to his house as he locked the door and walked in. Throwing his keys and coat on the floor, Price walked over to his computer and sat down. Price opened up his browser, going to the site he’s come to frequent.

He typed in the URL, already having it memorised, the site opened and he immediately went to the camgirl he was addicted to watching. The moment he loaded the website he was met with your streams. He eagerly clicked on his favorite one.

You were sitting on your bed, wearing a pretty red nightie that was thin and lacey, and of course the black lace eye mask on your face. But Price remembered what was underneath the lace, now that he’d finally seen it, he was desperate to see it again.

Price watched with a fixed gaze as you spoke on your stream, interacting with your viewers. It felt like you were speaking to him directly everytime you spoke to the stream.

Price could listen to you speak all night long, he loved the sound of your voice. But all he could think about the last time you spoke to him earlier that night was your lips wrapped around the top a bottle.

He whispers your stage name like a prayer, his eyes glued to the screen as you interact with your viewers. He feels jealousy stirring within him as he watches other men typing messages in the chat, trying to get your attention.

his breath hitches in his throat as you begin to slowly remove your clothing, just like every other night he's watched you. But tonight feels different - tonight he knows who you really are. "Dear god..." he unbuckles his belt with shaky hands, his heart racing as he watches you reveal more and more skin. The thin red nightie falls to the floor, leaving you naked, he imagines touching your soft and tender skin.

he lets out a low growl, his eyes fixed on your body as you sit there, completely unaware of his presence. He reaches into his pants, pulling out his aching cock and starting to stroke it slowly as he watches you. "Fuck... Angel..." he whispers, his voice strained with desire. He leans in closer to the screen, his eyes widening as you slowly trace your fingers along your collarbone and down to your breasts. Each movement is deliberate, teasing, sending electricity coursing through his veins. He squeezes his throbbing cock tighter, biting his lip to stifle a groan.

His eyes are glued to the screen, his jaw dropped as he watches you lay back on the bed, spreading your legs wide open. He can see everything, your glistening pussy, your bare ass, everything. He strokes his cock so fast now, precum leaking from the tip. "Fuck fuck fuck..." He watches in awe as you bring your fingers to your lips, sucking them wet before slowly sliding your hand between your spread thighs. He can almost feel the warmth of your breath on his screen as he watches you rub your slick folds, his own hand moving furiously on his erection.

You gaze into the camera, asking for permission to touch yourself. His eyes roll back in his head at the sound of those words, Daddy. He can feel his release getting closer just from hearing you beg like that. "Yes baby girl," he chokes out, his voice hoarse with desire, "Put your little finger inside, like a good girl." he talks to you through the screen.

He watches, transfixed, as you slowly push your finger inside yourself, your back arching off the bed as you let out a soft moan. The sight of your finger disappearing into your tight pussy is almost too much for him, he can feel his balls tightening, his cock throbbing. "Fuck..."He's so close now, his hand a blur on his dick as he watches you finger yourself. The sounds of your wetness fill his room, mingling with his own heavy breathing. "Add another one, baby," he grunts, "Stretch that little pussy open for daddy."

His eyes lock onto yours, his heart pounding in his chest as he watches you add another finger. He can see the desperation in your gaze, the pleading look in your wide eyes as you stare straight at the camera. It's like you're looking directly at him, calling his name. He gasps sharply, his cock twitching violently in his grip as he watches your eyes find his in the camera. It's too much - the stare, the fingers pumping into your pussy, the breathy gasps.

He bites back another groan, feeling the tingling pressure building at the base of his cock and spreading through his groin. Your fingers are pumping faster now, plunging into that glistening pink pussy, and the sight is too incredible. His voice comes out in a strained whisper "That's it baby, finger-fuck yourself just like that... show daddy what a good girl you are." His strokes become quick and shallow, matching your rhythm "Keep going... keep looking at daddy..."

He watches, transfixed, as you pull your glistening fingers from your pussy and slowly, sensuality bring them to your mouth. His cock throbs violently in his grip as you wrap your lips around them, sucking your juices clean. It's the hottest thing he's ever seen.

His eyes go wide with anticipation as you reach for your giant pink dildo, showing it off with that playful giggle that drives him crazy. His strokes slow down, wanting to savor every moment as he watches you. "Fuck baby... look at the size of that thing." He can feel his orgasm building as he watches you seductively lick the tip of the dildo like it's the best thing you've ever tasted. His hand moves faster, matching the rhythm of your licks.

His breath hitches in his throat as he watches you take that massive toy deeper into your hot little mouth, bobbing your head up and down like a innocent little angel giving a blowjob to a giant pink monster. His hand moves furiously now, his knuckles turning white. "You look... "he grunts "So fucking hot... sucking that big dildo like it's my cock... Fuck, baby, I'm so close... You're gonna make daddy come just watching you."

He watches, completely mesmerized, as you slowly pull the dildo out of your mouth with a loud pop, a string of saliva connecting your lips to the toy. His mouth goes dry at the sight, his heart pounding in his chest. He knows he can't hold back any longer. His eyes lock onto the massive pink toy as you position it between your thighs, lifting your tiny waist off the bed. He can feel his release building, his hot seed spurting into his palm as he watches you prepare to impale yourself on that dildo. "Oh god..." His cock pulses violently in his grip as he watches you shamelessly grind the huge dildo against your tiny clit. The sight of your delicate pink lips kissing the enormous head sends a shudder of pure lust through him. Sweat beads on his forehead as he fights to hold back his impending orgasm.

His voice comes out in a barely controlled growl "Stop teasing... Jesus... push it in, baby... show me how you take that massive cock... Before I explode all over myself watching you." His strokes become rougher, jerking himself frantically "Fuck... Fuck..."He practically sees stars, his world narrowing down to the exquisite torture unfolding before his eyes. As you slowly guide the enormous tip of the dildo into your tight little entrance, a strangled cry escapes his throat. "Holy shit, baby... yes... Take it... Take that huge fucking cock..."

His eyes roll back in his head, his body shaking violently as he watches you sink down onto that massive toy, your petite frame stretching to accommodate the enormous girth. The sound of your erotic moan, the sight of your jaw dropping open in shock and pleasure... It's too much. "FUCK..."His cock spurts involuntarily at the sight of you riding that massive dildo, your tits bouncing beautifully in your grasp. His whole body convulses as he watches your wet pussy sliding up and down the glistening shaft. "My god... look at how you take it..."

His hand moves in a blur, jackhammering his dick as he watches you fuck yourself senseless on that gigantic toy. The room fills with the sound of his heavy breathing and the wet slapping of his palm against his rock-hard cock. "You're gonna make me come so hard, baby..." He watches you ride that enormous cock with pure abandon, your tiny body bouncing on it like a professional porn star. The sight of your full tits bouncing up and down, combined with the erotic show you're putting on, finally pushes him over the edge. "Fuck! I'm coming..."

As you start frantically rubbing your clit while bouncing on the dildo, his release becomes impossible to hold back. He unleashes a torrent of hot cum onto his stomach, painting it white as he watches you teeter on the brink of your own orgasm. "Yes... Fucking hell, yes..." panting heavily, he watches as you continue to ride the dildo with wild abandon, your fingers working furiously on your clit. "That's it, baby... Don't stop... Make yourself come on that huge cock... I want to see it..." His breathing hitches as he watches you lose all inhibitions, your body convulsing as you slam yourself down onto the massive toy over and over. The room is filled with the sound of your wet flesh slapping against the rubber and your desperate, mewling cries. His cock hardens again.

“Come on, baby... Come all over that fucking dick... Let me see you fall apart..."He watches, mesmerized, as your entire body goes rigid and you throw your head back in a silent scream of pure ecstasy. Your pussy clamps down on the dildo like a vice, your juices pouring out and coating the toy and your thighs.

"Fuck... Fuck, fuck, fuck..." He strokes himself furiously, his eyes locked on the sight of you collapsed onto the bed, the dildo still buried inside you. With a final, strangled groan, he unleashes another massive load of cum, this time aiming it directly at the screen.

#Spotify #john price #john price x reader #cod mw2 #call of duty #smut #john price smut #age g4p #john price x you #captain price #price smut #cod smut #john price x reader smut #doll3scentwrites!#my first post woo! how did i do

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satellite-evans · 3 months ago

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sweet nothing

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Summary: Lando often finds himself running home to your sweet nothings <3

Word count: 1.2k+

Warnings: tooth aching fluff, self doubt, based on the Taylor Swift song

A/N:

I know I know, another Taylor Swift based song, but honestly I could not help myself lol hope you guys enjoy xxx

English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, talks, vents, recommendations or just simple questions are always welcome.

Happy reading xxx

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.

Lando knew the world would always ask more of him.

More speed, more podiums, more perfection.

It was never enough—no matter how hard he pushed, how flawlessly he executed each lap, how many times he stood on the podium drenched in champagne. There was always another race, another challenge, another voice questioning if he could be better, faster, stronger.

He had spent his life chasing milliseconds, his every move analyzed under a microscope. Every qualifying session, every tire strategy, every split-second decision picked apart by experts, fans, and critics alike. The cameras never stopped flashing, the media never stopped pressing, and the world never stopped waiting—waiting for him to falter, to crack under the pressure, to prove he was human after all.

It was exhilarating, yes. But exhausting all the same.

Some days, the weight of expectation settled so heavily on his shoulders that he felt like he might collapse under it. Some nights, even victory felt hollow, lost in the endless cycle of needing to prove himself over and over again.

But when he came home to you, none of it mattered.

Because you asked for nothing.

No questions about strategy, no discussions about points or standings, no expectations he had to meet. Just you—curled up on the couch in one of his oversized hoodies, waiting for him with that familiar, soft smile that made his entire world slow down.

The moment he stepped through the door, the noise of the outside world faded into silence. The cameras, the flashing lights, the headlines—they ceased to exist. Here, he wasn’t Lando Norris, the Formula 1 driver, the rising star, the man under constant scrutiny. He was simply Lando.

“Long day?” you asked softly, setting your book aside as he crossed the room.

He didn’t answer right away—just let out a slow, heavy sigh as he dropped onto the couch beside you, his body sinking into the cushions as though the weight of the world had finally caught up with him. His eyes, usually alight with adrenaline and mischief, were clouded with exhaustion, the telltale signs of another grueling day etched into the tension in his jaw and the furrow of his brow.

You didn’t need to ask for details. You already knew.

Without hesitation, you opened your arms, wordlessly offering him the one thing he could never find anywhere else—solace. And the moment he leaned into you, his body pressing against yours, his face buried in the crook of your neck, he let out another sigh, this time softer, more relieved. The kind of sigh that told you he had been holding his breath all day.

Your fingers found their way into his curls, threading through them with slow, soothing strokes. The steady rhythm of your touch was his anchor, grounding him in a way nothing else could. Not the roar of the engine, not the rush of a podium finish, not the validation of the world’s applause. Just this. Just you.

“Talk to me,” you murmured, your voice a gentle invitation, not a demand.

But he didn’t need to. Because with you, silence was never empty—it was full. Full of unspoken love, of quiet understanding, of a peace he could never quite put into words.

You never asked about his lap times or his championship standings. You didn’t care about the noise of the world outside these four walls—the pressure, the scrutiny, the endless cycle of proving himself again and again. All you ever asked of him was to simply be. To exist without expectation. To rest without guilt. To love and be loved in return.

He shifted slightly, his arms tightening around you as he pressed a lingering kiss to your temple. A silent thank you. A silent I love you. A silent I need this more than you know.

His voice was quiet when he finally spoke. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You smiled, tilting your head to press a soft kiss to his jaw, your lips brushing against his skin like a promise.

“Good thing you’ll never have to find out.”

Lando exhaled a quiet laugh, the kind of soft, sleepy sound that only you ever got to hear. It wasn’t the boisterous, camera-ready chuckle the world knew—it was something smaller, something sweeter, something just for you. He tightened his arms around you, burying his face deeper into the curve of your neck, breathing you in like you were the only thing keeping him tethered to the ground. Like home wasn’t a place but a person.

You.

As the evening stretched on, neither of you moved much, perfectly content in the quiet, tangled mess of limbs and warmth that you’d melted into. The television hummed softly in the background, flickering light dancing against the walls, but neither of you paid it much attention. The real comfort was here, in the way his fingertips traced absentminded patterns against your arm, featherlight and soothing. A subconscious habit—like he needed to remind himself that you were real, that you were here, that this moment belonged to him and no one else.

Every once in a while, he would sigh, a deep, contented sound that made your heart swell. You knew this was rare—Lando allowing himself to simply be. No overanalyzing, no worrying about tomorrow’s practice sessions or race strategies, no weight of expectation crushing his shoulders. Just this. Just love, wrapped up in a lazy, sleepy embrace that neither of you wanted to break.

After a while, you nudged a small box on the coffee table toward him. “I brought your favorite.”

He peeked up, blinking at you sleepily before glancing at the box, the familiar packaging instantly recognizable. His tired features softened, his lips curving into the kind of smile that made your chest feel like it was wrapped in sunshine.

“You always know what I need,” he murmured, his voice quieter now, like he was too at peace to speak any louder.

You grinned, nudging your nose against his in a playful Eskimo kiss. “That’s my job.”

Lando chuckled, shaking his head at you in that affectionate way that made your heart flip. His arms tightened around you, his nose brushing against your cheek, his lips ghosting over your skin with the gentlest, most reverent touch. “Best job in the world.”

And he meant it.

Because what could possibly be better than this? Than coming home to you, to the way you just knew—when he needed quiet, when he needed a distraction, when he needed to be held without saying a word. Than feeling this overwhelming, all-consuming love in the simplest, softest of moments, wrapped up in your warmth, your laughter, your everything.

Eventually, he let himself sink further into you, his head resting against your shoulder, his fingers curling lazily into the fabric of your shirt as his breathing evened out. You felt the way his muscles fully relaxed, the last of his tension melting away, like you were the only safe harbor in a world that constantly asked more of him.

And you were.

The world outside could wait. The pressure, the expectations, the endless cycle of proving himself—it could all wait.

Because right now, he was exactly where he wanted to be.

Home.

And for the first time that day, he felt like he could finally breathe.

Because in a world that always demanded more, you were the one thing that never did.

And that, he knew, was everything.

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onriyuview · 5 months ago

Text

solace

genre: fluff, smut, 18+ mdni

wc: 3.5k

summary: idol bf!sion comforting his jealous gf!reader, after this clip of him kissing a fan’s camera starts going viral on socials again

cw: soft dom!sion, oral (f), fingering (f), a lot of sweet talk, dirty talk, body worship, praise kink, unprotected pinv sex (wrap it pls), multiple orgasms, reassurance from sion, tender love-making, pet names (baby, beautiful, angel, princess, sweet girl, pretty girl, etc)

a/n: am i the jealous gf fan in question? maybe! ₍ᐢ. ༝ .ᐢ₎

as sion’s incredibly supportive girlfriend, you like to keep up with the wishies’ activities through every social media site you can think of.

being a fangirl yourself, you enjoy seeing different perspectives of concerts or fan events that other czennies attend, allowing yourself to live vicariously through them as to not expose your relationship with sion.

it especially helps when he’s practicing late nights or when he’s out of town, away on tour.

sure, you have countless amounts of his hoodies and special pictures and videos only meant for your camera roll and your eyes, among other physical items that keep you company in his absence, but you can’t help watching him through the eyes of a fan while he’s away.

after all, you’re his number one fan and he’s yours.

scrolling through twitter, you notice a clip from july 2024 making its way back onto your feed, circulating faster than you can even process. it’s on most of the major sion fan accounts you follow and— oh! you’ve seen this before... maybe?

your eyes scan the quick, 2-second clip of your gorgeous boyfriend kissing a fan’s phone camera, the video on a loop now as it turns into a 1-minute clip, then a 3-minute clip, your eyes not being able to leave sion’s features on your screen.

if you hadn’t seen it before you sure have now, the short collection of frames etched into your eyelids at this point.

once you realize just how many times you’ve watched this goddamned video, you sigh and swipe out of the twitter app, tossing your phone onto your covers.

thankfully, sion was only at practice at the company so you knew he’d be coming home to you tonight. but damn who let him think it was okay to give his fans that much fanservice?

you know he loves you and only you, and you know it’s also just his job, but sometimes the negative thoughts get to you.

no one told you how hard it’d be dating an idol as a non-idol, especially if he was a member of the newest and growing nct unit, or especially if he was this dedicated to making his fans fall in love with him, or especially if nearly every fancall video you saw of your boyfriend was of him outright flirting with his older fans.

frustrated with your own thoughts, you huff toward the ceiling, the air blowing a few strands of your hair out of your face, a furrow etched onto your eyebrows as you stare up at the soft glow cast by your bedside lamp.

before you can go deeper down the rabbit hole, you hear your apartment door beep and unlock, a pair of heavy feet stepping through the entrance, snapping you out of your thoughts. you don’t move to get up and greet your boyfriend who calls out for you first.

“baby? are you still awake?” he asks, his voice ringing through your place. he can see the soft light emitting through the gap under the bedroom door as his tired feet pad their way closer. he knows you usually stay up to wait for him.

he knocks gently after not hearing a response from you, softly pushing the door open to find you staring at the ceiling mindlessly.

“baby? earth to y/n?” sion calls out to you, dropping his duffle bag to the ground and nudging your shoulder with his hand.

“hi sion,” you say, catching the way his right brow raises when you call him by his own name and not a nickname or pet name.

your hand that’s further from him moves around your bed, finding your phone and unlocking it to open twitter.

“what’s this all about?” you ask, bringing your phone to his face with your other arm. his mouth opens to say something before his eyes flicker back to the screen where he’s watching himself kiss the camera. he winces slightly at having to re-watch his own fanservice.

“baby,” he starts, making your arm retract from him and toss your phone away once again. “is this why you didn’t answer when i came home?”

when he sees the slight pout set on your lips he fights back a smile, running his hand through his hair and perching himself at the edge of your bed.

“are you… jealous?” he asks, the lilt at the end of his question making you roll your eyes and turn your body away from him, sighing dramatically.

he bursts into a fit of laughter, clutching his stomach as he gasps, struggling to breathe with how hard he’s laughing at you.

“it’s not funny, sion!” you shout, but his giggles drown you out almost entirely. you sigh once again, picking up your phone but avoiding twitter at all costs.

after what feels like forever, sion’s laughs come to a gradual stop, and you feel him lift up your comforter to slip into bed beside you.

you scooch forward just a bit to give him some space, and once he’s finally settled, his face is right behind your neck, the hairs there standing up at the feeling of his breath on your skin.

“babyyy,” he says cutely. you can hear the slightest movements of his mouth with how close he is to you. “hey, come on… look at me, beautiful.”

you really didn’t know how not to give into him. you sigh again, your phone leaving your hand once more as you finally turn to face sion, slightly startled by his proximity.

after finally getting to look into your eyes for the first time since this morning, he takes in your pouty face.

your brows are furrowed the same way they do when you’re focused on something (or just frustrated, in this case), your bottom lip jutting out even more than when he found you.

he knows you might be definitely are upset with him, but this is the cutest you could look while ignoring him.

wordlessly, he starts pressing kisses to your worried features. first between your brows, then your slightly red nose, and both of your flushed cheeks, down to your chin and back up to finally meet your lips.

your features soften at the contact points, but you don’t reciprocate the kiss. your lips are still pouting at him as he looks at you.

one of his arms finds its place across your waist as the other comes up to caress your face.

“what’s wrong, hm? are you mad at me over this video from july?” he asks, his fingers dancing under your shirt to soothe your skin, the thumb of his other hand smooths out your still-worried brows.

you huff once more, letting yourself melt under his touch, eyes closed to focus on the feeling of his fingers against you.

“i’m not mad,” you mumble.

“so you are jealous?” he teases. your eyes open to be met with his signature wide smile that reaches his eyes.

“yes, sion. i’m jealous of your fangirls and the way you talk to them,” you sigh.

he kisses you once, twice, then three times on your lips, and you let him.

“you’re the one i come home to every night,” he assures you, a kiss following his words. “and you know i only have eyes for you,” another kiss. “and you’re the only girl in my world,” another kiss. “and doing all that fanservice is just my job,” sealed with a final kiss.

“i know,” you respond. “i just missed you today and seeing that clip of you stirred something in me i guess…” you frown again, realizing where your jealousy stemmed from.

he tsks at you, pressing another kiss to your brows once more.

“i’m sorry for making you miss me, my sweet girl,” he pouts, mirroring your expression from before. “how about i make it up to you, hmm? show you how much you mean to me? how much i love you?” he offers, each question followed by a kiss.

you don’t respond, watching and waiting to see what he’ll do next if you just lay there silently. to your delight, he starts trailing kisses down across your jaw and along your neck, nipping slightly to try and get a reaction out of you.

you let out a hitched breath, locking eyes with your boyfriend who’s already pulled away from the space in your shoulder. his hands are holding you so gently and his lips are so soft on your skin, brushing past the goosebumps that raise on your chest when you feel his breath there.

his fingers are toying with the hem of your top, silently asking you for permission to take it off, in which you respond with a silent nod of your head.

sion was thankful you didn’t wear a bra around the house, especially not before bed, because that was one less article of clothing keeping him from appreciating your beautiful figure.

“you’re so pretty, princess,” he whispers, a hand reaching out to knead at your chest. his thumb flicks against your nipple gently as he watches you squirm under him. a soft smile makes its way to his lips. “always so responsive for me, hmm?”

he leans forward again, now capturing your other nipple in his mouth, running his tongue across it and groaning at how quickly it hardens.

your hands fly to his hair, nestling into the dark locks to ground yourself. you’re trying not to give him any verbal reactions (for now), but your body moves before you can even think, sion knowing it almost better than you do.

he shifts to nip at your other nipple, switching places with his hand. your breathing is picking up now, his free hand pulling at the elastic of the waistband of your bottoms, the material snapping softly at your skin.

“you gonna let me take care of you tonight, angel?” he asks sweetly, rolling the bud that was in his mouth between his thumb and pointer finger, smiling and biting his lip at how breathless you already look underneath him.

“mmm,” you whine, hips bucking up as a signal for him to continue.

he taps at your hips to raise your hips once more, pulling your bottoms down in one swift motion and tossing them aside somewhere.

sion trails his lips down your torso, fleeting kisses being scattered across the expanse of your skin.

“my pretty baby,” sion whispers, almost to himself.

his hands are holding you at your hips as his mouth meets the skin there, coursing them down your thighs and calves as his lips follow, dragging across your limbs and leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“you have no idea what you do to me,” he mumbles, gently pushing your legs apart and settling down between them. he gasps at the wet patch that decorates the center of your panties now, his thumb coming up to rub the damp fabric.

“you missed me too, didn’t you?” he’s smiling, watching you squirm. “i can tell just by how wet you are,” he says, applying more pressure to your clothed clit before pulling the center of your panties aside and exposing your slick core.

your bottom lip is tucked between your teeth, biting down so you don’t give sion the audible satisfaction he wants, but your body betrays you entirely. just the way the string of arousal clings to the fabric is enough to satiate your boyfriend.

“this pussy missed me too, hm?” he leans down, your scent flooding his senses. “thought about her all day, you know.”

he starts flicking his tongue across your clit gently at first, then with more pressure as he pins your squirming hips down to the bed.

“ah-ah,” he tuts. “let me take my time with you, pretty girl,” he says before attaching his mouth to your core, alternating between wrapping his lips around your clit and fucking his tongue in your hole.

he’s truly indulging in your pussy, not in any rush and wanting to drag out your pleasure for as long as he can. it’s wet and messy, sion’s trademark while eating you out, and you love it.

“tastes so sweet, angel,” he growls, his voice dropping and more gravelly than before, making you leak with arousal.

pulling away from your heat, he works a finger through your folds before burying it in you with one swift motion, the wetness of your juices and his spit aiding his digit. you cry out at the feeling of finally feeling somewhat full of him.

“sion!” you gasp as his mouth reattaches itself to your clit, sucking almost too softly as he fingers you deliciously, your original idea of staying quiet thrown out the window. he just feels— “so good, sion,” you whine, your hips bucking against his face.

you almost miss how he’s smiling up at you as he keeps working you, adding another finger and pumping them in and out of your heat. sion revels at the reactions you finally give him, the squelching sounds filling the room and turning you on even more.

“that’s it, baby. let me hear you,” he purrs, fingers stroking at the spongy part of your walls before suckling your clit with more fervor now, anticipating your orgasm before you can even process it yourself.

“c-cumming, sion— fuck! i’m cumming,” you cry before the hot white feeling in your stomach releases, sending you over the edge as sion’s movements don’t stop, helping you ride out your high around his fingers and in his mouth.

“that’s my girl,” he grins at you, finally pulling away from your core. the bottom half of his face covered in your cum, his lips puffy and shining even in the dim lighting of your bedroom.

you tug at the collar of his shirt, silently asking him to come up to you.

“what is it, pretty?” his smile growing as he takes in your flushed cheeks and messy hair. “need your words, baby.”

“kiss me,” you mumble, pulling at him once more before his lips meet yours. you can taste yourself on him as your tongue swipes across his lower lip, his tongue stroking against yours, sion deepening the kiss with more passion.

you both pull away breathlessly, resting your foreheads against each other for a short moment.

“you’re so beautiful, you know that?” he asks, eyes boring into yours.

“i know… you tell me everyday,” you blush.

“you know i think you look prettiest when you’re cumming?” sion asks, pressing another kiss to your lips before his hands move down to his sweats, pulling them down along with his underwear.

his hard member springs up, the tip red against the pale skin of his stomach, precum smeared across the head of it. “only just got started and this is what you do to my cock, sweet girl.”

he hunches down to steal another kiss from you, pushing your legs up to lie between them before grabbing the base of his cock and running the tip through your folds.

you whine at this, your hips pushing up so he can just get it in, but sion shakes his head and tsks at this.

“impatient aren’t you? i thought i told you i wanted to take my time with you, angel,” he reminds you, his free hand coming to pin your hips down to the mattress once more. “i’ll give you what you want, don’t worry your pretty head.”

the head of his cock finally latches onto your entrance, making you gasp and sion hiss at the sensation. “always f-feel so good— fuck, so good around me baby,” he stutters as he pushes his length in.

despite how many times you and sion have had sex, you’re still not adjusted to his size, the stretch burning delightfully each time.

“my perfect girl,” sion breathes out once he fully buries himself to the hilt. “with the most perfect pussy made just for me, hm?” he all but whines at the feeling of your walls wrapped around him, his hands planting into the pillow on either side of your head to steady himself.

he’s kissing you now, distracting you from the discomfort between your legs. you can feel everything he wants to say just with his plush lips against yours.

he pulls back to pepper your face with more pecks, watching the furrow in your brows disappear slowly as your vice-like grip on his throbbing member slowly lets up.

“that’s it angel,” sion coos, his big brown eyes sparkling with pride. “you’re doing so good for me, takin’ me so fuckin’ well,” he praises. his hips start drawing back and pushing forward gently but firmly, filling you up all the way every time.

“‘s too big, sion,” you whimper, feeling the the tip of his member kissing at the most deepest part of your walls. your eyes are rolling to the back of your head, the pleasure too overwhelming to keep them open and trained on your boyfriend.

“i’ve got you, baby. you’re okay, just keep taking it,” he groans, picking up the pace in hopes of drowning out the pain with pleasure. it works like a charm, moans of pleasure spilling from your lips and encouraging him to keep going.

he’s cupping your face with one hand while the other keeps him propped up, swiping at your lips and your cheek so gently, making you open your eyes and look at him.

“i love you so much, sweet girl. you’re so perfect and good to me and you mean the world to me,” he’s blabbering now, but the sweet words go straight to your pussy, making you clench around his length.

a whine bubbles out of your lips and your eyes are squeezed shut again at the immense oxytocin rush. he’s fucking you just right while spilling the most sugary words in your ears and you feel like you’re floating.

his hand that was holding your face moves down to start rubbing circles against your clit and your back arches at the contact, your hips fighting against his hand to buck up and meet his thrusts.

“ah— sion!” you cry out, your walls fluttering around him more consistently now. “fuck! sion please,” you pant.

“what’s wrong, baby?” sion asks, feigning concern. he knows exactly what’s wrong; he knows your body like the back of his hand, but just needs to hear you say it.

his head dips to the crook of your neck to nip at the skin and your arms fly around his shoulders, one of your hands finding its way in his hair to tug at the strands in an attempt to ground yourself.

“i— fuck! i’m gonna cum,” you’re gasping now, causing sion to speed up his thrusts as well as his fingers on your clit.

“y-yeah? gonna cum for me pretty girl?” he rasps. “gonna make a mess around my cock? you gonna show your boyfriend how much you love him, hmm?”

and that’s all it takes for the tension in your lower stomach to burst. the cry that leaves your mouth has your throat feeling raw, but you don’t care as sion’s teeth graze your neck, the skin muffling his moans as he paints your walls with his hot cum.

his lips leave your neck as his hips still, your walls still spasming with the aftershocks of your orgasm. “always so good for me, angel,” sion mumbles, slotting your lips together as he rides out both of your highs.

after catching your breaths, and much reluctance, he finally pulls out of you. the sudden empty feeling and his fluids spilling out of you making you wince and groan at once.

“sion!” you whine, dragging out his name for emphasis, your face scrunching up as he chuckles at you.

“i know, baby. hold on,” he says, getting up to dampen a towel to clean you up. “come here, let’s get you cleaned up so we can cuddle.” his signature smile spreads across his face, his cheekbones rising with it.

you roll your eyes but are unable to avoid the corners of your lips turning up to mirror his own.

once you’re both clean and redressed in comfortable sleeping clothes, sion pulls you close to him, your back pressed against his front.

“have i made it up to you?” he asks, burying his face into the back of your neck.

“you have... and i’m sorry for getting upset with you earlier,” you pout, even though he can’t see your face. he shushes you and pulls you impossibly closer.

“don’t be sorry, beautiful. i know you just missed me,” sion mumbles, kissing your neck. “i’ll make sure you never miss me that much again, okay?”

you hum in response, the fatigue taking over as your eyelids shut, feeling nothing but love and reassurance as you fall asleep in sion’s arms.

tags: @rikupid @sminiac @be-my-sunrise ♡

thank you to my baby @rikupid for beta reading as always ♡

#sion x reader #oh sion x reader #sion smut #oh sion smut #sion hard hours #oh sion hard hours #sion imagines #oh sion imagines #sion scenarios #oh sion scenarios #nct wish sion #nct wish sion smut #nct wish x reader #nct wish sion hard hours #nct wish hard hours #nct wish smut #jae writes ₊˚⊹ ࿔

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rafecameronssl4t · 5 months ago

Note

Omg Pt 2 of unfinished lap??? Reader makes him eat his heart out looking super hot and he grovels??? PUHLEASE

Unfinished lap pt.2 || F1 driver!Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

A/n: IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG 😭😭😭

Warnings: angst!!!!

Word count: 1,396

MASTERLIST (F1 driver!Rafe x reader au masterlist)

PART ONE HERE

The Monaco Grand Prix was undoubtedly one of the most highly anticipated races of the year, and it was clear why. The energy was electric from the moment you stepped into the paddock. Journalists swarmed, eager to capture every headline-worthy moment, while paparazzi darted about, snapping photos of drivers and their glamorous entourages.

Team crew members hustled through the maze of garages, their focused expressions a stark contrast to the spectacle of it all. It was a world that thrived on chaos, glitz, and precision—a breathtaking display of Formula 1’s allure. Austin had accompanied you this time, his calm presence a stark contrast to the whirlwind around you.

It had been a week since you last spoke to Rafe, your communication routed exclusively through Austin. The distance had been intentional. After the heated fallout at the Miami Grand Prix, you had felt the need to step away, to find a moment to breathe. So, you flew back home for a few days, seeking solace in the familiar before making your way to France just 24 hours ago.

Of course, your arrival had been made seamless, courtesy of Rafe's private jet. It was his unspoken way of showing care, even in the midst of a strained silence. He had respected your desire for space, understanding the weight of what had transpired between you. Yet, the air still felt charged, the unresolved tension from Miami lingering like an invisible thread pulling at both of you.

Now, standing in the heart of Monaco’s bustling paddock, you couldn’t help but wonder how this weekend would unfold. The aftermath of Miami still clung to you like a stubborn shadow. Your abrupt departure before the race had even ended—and without Rafe by your side—had set social media ablaze. Fans were quick to notice, flooding timelines with speculation.

Did you and Rafe have a falling out? Was this the beginning of cracks in what many saw as a perfect relationship? The whispers of gossip added another layer to the weight you already carried. As you stepped into the paddock, the flashing cameras were almost blinding. Paparazzi immediately swarmed, their voices rising as they called your name. You offered them a small, polite smile, one that didn’t quite reach your eyes but was enough to quell the barrage of questions—for now.

The murmurs and shutter clicks followed you like a persistent hum, a reminder that every move you made here was under scrutiny. Austin, always the reliable mediator, had informed you that Rafe was already at the paddock. His presence was palpable even without seeing him, a tension that hung in the air. But finding him wasn’t your priority at the moment. The thought of facing him so soon felt daunting, not when your emotions were still tangled from the events in Miami.

Instead, you sought comfort in familiar company, meeting up with some friends at Ferrari’s hospitality complex. The atmosphere was lively but far more relaxed than the frenzy outside. You eased into the plush seating, a chilled glass of champagne in hand, while plates of gourmet food were passed around. The warm laughter and light conversation helped loosen the knot in your chest, even if only temporarily.

Yet, even as you tried to immerse yourself in the moment, you couldn’t ignore the faint buzz of your phone in your bag.

Rafe

Austin says you're here, where are you?

Y/n

Hospitality.

Without waiting for Rafe's response, you silenced your phone, flipping it face down on the table with a snap. You didn’t want to be distracted, not when there were conversations to be had with friends who actually cared—or at least, that’s what you told yourself as you leaned back into the easy rhythm of small talk with Sofia and the others. Your smile was polite, but hollow, just like the words coming out of your mouth.

Inside, you were still seething, and nothing about the pre-race buzz seemed to settle the storm inside you. As the race approached, the paddock swelled with even more energy. "Y/n! Over here!" You hear paparazzi call out as you turn your head to see them all flashing their camera as you give them a wave. "They grow more obsessive over you every day, I swear," Sofia chuckles, as you let out a soft snort, knowing this dress was your petty version of a revenge dress.

The air crackled with excitement, but you were numb to it, your thoughts wrapped tightly around everything that had been left unsaid between you and Rafe. Sofia nudged you, a knowing glint in her eyes, breaking your daze. You frowned, her questioning look making you snap out of your thoughts. "What?" you asked.

She nodded subtly, gesturing with her chin, and you followed her gaze. Your heart clenched. Rafe was approaching, his racing suit snug against his toned frame, the helmet in his hand an afterthought. His eyes, however, were locked onto you with an intensity that made you want to look away. He walked through the chaos of the grid like he was moving in slow motion, cutting through the noise, determined.

The sea of people, the flashes of cameras, none of it seemed to matter. It was like he was trying to pull you back in, but you weren’t sure you wanted to be pulled anymore. Sofia gave you a small, almost sympathetic smile before slipping away toward her boyfriend. You stayed rooted to the spot, knowing full well what was coming. Your eyes met his when he finally reached you, and the force of his gaze nearly knocked the air out of your lungs.

There was something there—something unreadable. You hated how it made you feel. You offered him a smile, but you knew it didn’t reach your eyes. It was stiff, polite, barely enough to hide the way you felt. He saw it, of course, because he always did. He could read you better than anyone else. “Good luck,” you said, the words coming out more as a formality than genuine well-wishing. Your voice was even, but it didn’t carry the warmth it usually did when you said it to him.

You stepped closer, placing your hands lightly on his shoulders, doing it out of habit rather than any lingering affection. It was an automatic move, like you’d done it a thousand times before. Rising onto your toes, you kissed his cheek. The kiss was longer than it should have been, the seconds stretching into an eternity as your lips lingered. But it didn’t feel like affection. It felt like something you didn’t want to face.

“Wait.” His voice sliced through the noise, barely audible over the rising hum of the grid as his hand grips your forearm. Your body froze at the sound of it, tension building in your chest. You hated how much it affected you. You hadn’t wanted to see him, hadn’t wanted to be anywhere near him after the things he’d said, yet here he was, pulling you back into his orbit with just two words. You looked over your shoulder, meeting his gaze.

The vulnerability there was almost too much. You turned, your gaze cold. "What?" you snapped, not hiding the edge of frustration in your voice. “Can we talk, please?” he asked, the words soft, almost pleading. His face was a mix of urgency and something you didn’t want to acknowledge. You wanted to scream at him. To tell him you weren’t some emotional ragdoll he could throw aside whenever it suited him. But all that came out was silence.

You glanced around at the sea of people—team members huddled together, journalists with cameras in hand, all capturing this moment. Everything about this was wrong. You could already feel the eyes on you both, the pressure mounting. This was the last place you wanted to have this conversation. "Right now?" you asked, your voice biting. "But—"

Before you could finish, Austin materialized at Rafe’s side, his timing as impeccable as always. You almost resented him for it. “Rafe, the anthem is happening soon,” he said, his voice carrying a firm but unspoken reminder that the world didn’t stop for personal drama. He looked at you briefly, offering a polite smile, but it felt more like an apology for the situation than anything else.

“Go,” you said, your voice colder than you meant it to be. You gently moved his hand from your forearm, the briefest contact of your fingers almost too much. His touch lingered even after he let go, the warmth of it burning into you. His shoulders sagged slightly, a deep exhale leaving his lips. He nodded, but it was a hollow gesture, a promise that didn’t carry weight. “After the race,” he muttered, his voice low, as if he were speaking more to himself than to you.

Rafe’s victory, though impressive, only seemed to amplify the tension between you both. As you stood near the podium, clapping along with the others, you felt the anger simmering beneath your skin. The sound of Ferrari’s team celebrating—their cheers, the clapping—was a distant noise, something that barely registered to you. Rafe stood there, triumphant, raising his trophy high as the crowd cheered around him.

But despite his success, you couldn’t bring yourself to feel anything other than the sharp ache that had settled in your chest. Your smile, if you could even call it that, was a thin mask you wore out of habit, an automatic response to the situation. You tried to focus on the celebrations, but every part of you was focused on him. You could feel his eyes on you, the weight of his gaze intense and unyielding.

You stared at the big screen, watching his expression shift as he looked directly down at you, a brief flicker of something—regret, maybe—flashing across his face. You hated it. You hated how that tiny moment made you question everything. You refused to acknowledge it, refused to let yourself feel anything beyond the cold distance you had wrapped around your emotions.

Instead, you kept your focus on the screen, acting like you didn’t care. You could almost hear his voice in your mind, calling out to you, asking for forgiveness, but you shut it out. The ache from his words—those careless, hurtful things he’d said—was still so raw, and you were not ready to let it go. The second the podium ceremony ended, you wasted no time in leaving the crowd behind.

You moved quickly through the cluster of team members, your steps deliberate as you walked away, trying to escape the noise and the energy that had once felt like home.

You hesitated outside the door to Rafe’s private room, your hand hovering over the handle. The paddock’s noise was a faint hum in the distance now, replaced by the deafening sound of your own thoughts. You didn’t want to be here—every fibre of your being told you to turn around, to walk away, to protect yourself. But you also couldn’t leave things like this. Not after everything.

With a deep breath, you pushed the door open. The room was dimly lit, quiet, a stark contrast to the chaos outside. Rafe sat on the small couch, his racing suit unzipped and hanging around his waist, his head resting in his hands. The sight of him—so unguarded, so unlike the Rafe everyone else knew—sent a pang through your chest.

His head snapped up when he heard the door close behind you. His blue eyes locked onto yours, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. The tension was thick, suffocating, as he straightened up, his gaze flickering with something you couldn’t quite place. “You didn’t stay,” he said finally, his voice low, almost accusing.

You crossed your arms over your chest, the anger bubbling up again. “What did you expect, Rafe? A standing ovation for the way you spoke to me in Miami?” His jaw tightened, and he stood, his movements stiff and deliberate as he closed some of the space between you. “I wasn’t thinking straight,” he admitted, his voice strained. “I said things I shouldn’t have.”

“You think an apology fixes everything?” you snapped, your voice sharper than you intended. “Do you even understand how much you hurt me? I was trying to help you, Rafe. To be there for you. And you acted like I was just… in your way. Like I didn’t matter.” His shoulders sagged, and he ran a hand through his messy hair, his frustration evident. “You don’t think I know that?” he shot back, his voice rising slightly.

“I know I messed up, okay? I know I was out of line. But I didn’t mean any of it.” “Then why say it?” you countered, your voice cracking despite your best efforts to stay composed. “Why do you always push me away when all I’m trying to do is be there for you?” Rafe let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Because I don’t know how to deal with this!” he admitted, his voice raw.

“I don’t know how to let people in without feeling like they’re gonna see how much of a failure I feel like sometimes. It’s easier to shut you out than to risk you seeing that.” Your heart clenched at his admission, but the sting of his earlier words still lingered. “You don’t get to make that choice for me, Rafe,” you said softly, your tone firm. “You don’t get to decide how much of you I can handle. That’s not fair. Not to me, and not to us.”

He stepped closer, his hands twitching at his sides as if he wanted to reach for you but didn’t quite dare. “You’re right,” he said, his voice quieter now. “It’s not fair. And I’m sorry. I don’t know how to fix this, but I want to. I need to.”You searched his face, looking for any sign of insincerity, but all you saw was regret. And fear. “I don’t need you to be perfect, Rafe,” you said, your voice softening slightly. “I just need you to let me in. To stop shutting me out every time things get hard.”

He nodded, his throat working as he swallowed hard. “I’ll try,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know how yet, but I’ll try. Because losing you… I can’t do that. I won’t.” Your resolve wavered, the walls you’d built around yourself beginning to crack. “I’m holding you to that,” you said quietly, letting him close the remaining distance between you.

Rafe’s hand hovered near yours for a moment before he finally took it, his grip tentative but steady. “You deserve better,” he said, his voice laced with a sincerity that made your chest ache. “And I’m going to do better. I promise.”The anger and hurt didn’t disappear completely, but for the first time that day, you felt a flicker of hope. Maybe, just maybe, things could change.

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maple-the-awesome · 4 months ago

Text

Another Link Crushes On You || Part 2/3

Part 1 ||

Pairings: Legend, Twilight, Wind x GN Reader

Overview: You've known Link for years - Well, a version of Link. Neither of you have seen yourselves as being anything more than friends, although it seems not all Link's think the same, in fact when you're introduced to the Chain, one of the boys falls pretty hard for you. I spun a wheel to let fate decide upon random pairs this time. Needless to say, I had a lot of fun with some of them😁

Zelda Masterlist 💚 Fandom Masterlist

Legend isn't a big fan of Skyloft which is something he decided rather quickly upon arrival - and no, it has nothing to do with the cold, thin air or hair-raising heights, although he’s also not a big fan of either. His problem lies solely on the cheerful atmosphere created by this village’s inhabitants. It’s all too easy going and mundane to fit an adventurer’s heart. Too familiar and painful, to boot.

The others may think of him as aloof and, quite frankly, Sky might be a little offended, but Legend has no interest in exploring these islands or making friends with the locals. Never again. Instead of joining any guided tours or trading stories with inquisitive knights, he sinks into his own isolation, finding a quiet place to sit amongst the shore of Skyloft’s only large water source.

All by his lonesome, he’s free to find a good boulder to hide behind and tear away at his hair in a desperate attempt at calming his unsteady anxiety…That is, until he hears a sound - No, not a sound, a voice. A beautiful voice that doesn’t speak, but rather hums a delicate melody he’s certain he’s heard before, probably from Sky who has a habit of mumbling certain songs to himself while plucking his harp.

…And there you are, blissfully unaware of anyone else's presence by the lake as you approach the water's edge. Dropping a laundry basket in the sand, you carefully roll up your pant legs and kick off your boots, prepared to step into the cold water until you suddenly halt.

As if having developed some sort of sixth sense, you glance over your shoulder, quickly spotting the pink haired boy peeking at you from beside a boulder. The sight understandably startles you, yet despite how awkward this situation might look without context - what, to catch a total stranger apparently 'spying' from afar - you give him a kind, that be it nervous smile. People in Skyloft truly are too trusting for their own good.

"Oh hello there! …So sorry, I don't think we’ve met yet."

Legend sighs, realizing it would be creepier if he were to just ignore you. With his place of solace now ruined, he stands and dusts the sand off his tunic, "...That's because I'm not from around here."

"Oh?" You tilt your head cutely, likely confused as to what he could possibly mean, after all, where else would he have come from if not Skyloft? Looking him over, you take notice of his outfit, “Are you a knight? I see you have the uniform of one.”

The angel on Legend's shoulder begs him to be honest, after all there's no reason not to be. Naturally, Sky seems to be pretty well known around Skyloft, so maybe you wouldn't be too surprised to learn your local hero has become ensnared in another adventure, bringing home a handful of other heroes. You might even find Legend more interesting if he were truthfully, awed by the rare chance to meet someone outside of your own timeline...yet staying true to his own bad habits, he decides to dig his own grave instead:

"...Yeah, I’m a knight. I'm just usually really busy, so that's probably why you haven't seen me around, you know,” He explains boldly.

You furrow your eyebrows while finally stepping into the water, taking a handful of clothing items with you, "...Huh...I still could've sworn I knew everyone here, what, with the island being so small and all."

Legend cringes. He can't tell if you're simply speaking on your confusion or slyly catching him in a lie, although the uncertainty isn't enough to deter him, "W-Well, I don't live 'here' exactly. I live on one of the...outer islands - And I spend a lot of time there instead of here which would make it easy to miss me."

You give him a strange look that feels as if it could burn right through him, however you fortunately turn away before his heart can ignite, "...May I ask your name?"

"My...name?" He blinks as if that’s the strangest question you could’ve asked.

"I just feel a bit rude for never having noticed you before, but if I were to learn a name to put to the face, I doubt I'll ever walk past you again without a smile," And oh, how deadly your smile is, flashed over your shoulder so innocently, yet those eyes - They hold mischief behind them.

"My name is Li - Ravio. That's my name," Another needless lie...

"Li Ravio?" You repeat, not looking very convinced, "That's certainly...a name, alright."

"W-Well, I didn't pick it!" Yes, yes he did...

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean any offense. It's a unique name, that's all, but that will make it easier to remember," You laugh at his misery, your eyes crinkling with the action. You then introduce yourself, your name sounding vaguely familiar, although Legend's in too much of a daze to think of why, "It's nice to meet you, Li Ravio."

He bites back a grumble, already regretting his life choices up until this point. Seriously, if he was going to give himself a cover name and story, couldn't he have picked something a little better? You probably think he's a weirdo, just showing up out of the blue with some half-assed backstory that sounds totally fake - Wait, what does he even care? It's not like he knows you! You're a random civilian from a timeline that comes generations before his own. If he wanted, he could march off and never see or think about you again...but does he want to?

Despite his previous desire for isolation, Legend remains standing there dumbly in the sand, entranced by the song you go back to humming while carefully scrubbing away at your laundry. You take no shame in your singing - which is good, because there's no reason to be. You sound nothing short of holy, and quite honestly, you match the look, practically glowing in the beams of sunlight. Even your movements are graceful, so much so that as you wade out of the water, you hardly disturb the water lilies around you.

"Where'd you learn to sing like that?" The question slips before Legend can help it, but there's no taking it back. You stop mid-step onto the sand, eyes quickly darting up to look at him in surprise. It's as if no one's ever been smart enough to give you that compliment before...or perhaps no one has ever sounded quite so astonished while saying it.

"My cousin and I sing every evening at the Lumpy Pumpkin," You explain, bashfully tucking a strand of hair behind your ear after dropping your laundry back into its basket and picking it up, "You should come by sometime. It’s on an island south east of here - Very cozy, and a great place to get to know new people, too.”

"I'll, um...think about it,” Legend answers awkwardly with a cough. Will they even be staying in Skyloft that long? How would he even get to another island, especially without anyone else following - Wait, why is he even considering this?!

You seem to have lost some of your cheer. Perhaps that wasn’t the exact answer you were hoping to hear, however Legend, once again, has no way of taking it back.

“...Well, I, um, should get going. These clothes won’t dry themselves,” You mumble, gesturing to the basket you keep against your hip. Without waiting for any goodbye, you make your way up the shoreline, only stopping temporarily to shout over your shoulder, “Oh, and Li Ravio? I should probably tell you that Link was looking for you earlier! He wanted to make sure all you boys knew not to get too close to any edges! It’s quite the fall!”

Legend doesn’t respond, too stunned to form words as you chuckle to yourself before skipping off on your merry way. So you were aware of his lies the entire time!

Faced with tired bones and a sinking sun that plummets the world into night, the Chain has no choice but to call it a day (not that they have any objections towards rest). They practically collapse where they stand, taking a few greedy minutes to catch their breaths before picking up the work once again.

Setting up bedrolls, sparking a fire, organizing supplies, and chopping vegetables, the heroes are kept active for a decent hour or two until they can take another breather. Gathered around a wonky circle, their conversation is light and mostly focused upon their hunger which is only fueled by the pleasant smell of soup until it can be dished out.

About half the boys have bowls in their hands before a sudden snap of a twig causes them to trade their meals for weapons, senses on heightened alert especially when a stranger soon steps out of the shadows. At such a distance, the fire's light only barely outlines their silhouette, but that’s apparently all it takes for someone in their group to realize this is no actual stranger who's stumbled across them.

Hyrule's face lights up as he exclaims your name. Your own reaction is quite similar, switching from caution to excitement within the same second that you remove the hood from your head. The way you both move to greet each other, holding the other's arms with bright smiles and disbelief is quick to calm the other heroes. If you're a friend of the wary traveler's, then you'll be a friend to them.

"I thought it was your voice I heard from the trail, but then again, I haven't heard you in ages! And to find you in such a large group of companions? Never before! Where have you been for all this time, old friend?" You seem to go through several emotions all at once - a steady flow from relief, confusion, sorrow, and joy. Hyrule is hardly any better.

"It's a long story, but I haven't exactly been around to be seen," When you give him a bewildered look, he’s quick to brush it off, "I'll tell you all about it some other time - Hey, why don't you join us for dinner? There's plenty to go around!”

Your eyes instantly widen as you wave your hands in front of yourself, your smile suddenly strained, "Oh, no - no thanks! That's a kind offer, really, but I, um, ate not too long ago -"

"- Pss! He's not the one who does the cooking here," Someone whispers. At that, your shoulders visibly relax.

"...Oh...Well, uh, now that I think about it, it was really more of a light snack earlier. I suppose I could stand to eat something more."

Hyrule beams at this, clearly happy to have someone he knows so well stick around even if only for a night. It's then that he finally introduces you to the group, explaining that you're a fellow traveler he often crossed paths with during his own adventures. Seeing how dangerous this time can be, you had a habit of sharing supplies, camps, and stories to feel less alone in the world, so it's no wonder that you'd be so relieved to see each other safe again.

"Mind if I sit by you, stranger?" You ask, peeking around at Twilight while Hyrule grabs you a bowl of soup. Despite your tired eyes and worn expression, you still manage a friendly smile that causes the rancher to nearly choke on his spoon.

With a cough and blush, he scoots to the side, probably making far more room than you actually need, "...Not one bit."

"Thanks!" Fortunately, you don't seem to think anything of his reaction as you gratefully take a seat nor do you take any notice of the way he steals another curious glance at you.

Seeing as you're a new face within the group, it's only natural that you become the center of attention. Questions are thrown your way left and right, many interested to know your story which you modestly tell with little fanfare. Apparently, you've been a traveler for the last few years, wandering from place to place while making a living off trading the resources you collect throughout your journey. Before then, though, you used to live at your family's ranch.

"You grew up on a ranch?" Twilight asks a bit too eagerly once the topic's mentioned, earning himself a lot of strange looks including one from yourself, although you at least seem more forgiving than his friends, quickly letting your confusion go with a gentle nod.

"I did - For most my life, actually," That's all you say before going back to stirring your soup which you're thankful not to find any bone fragments in.

"What made you move on from that life?" Perhaps it's an out-of-line question a gentleman shouldn't be asking, after all he's no more than a stranger to you, but learning a pretty thing such as yourself may have a similar background to himself makes him forget all manners.

"...It was destroyed by monsters some time back," You answer simply while taking a bite.

Twilight bows his head, shame burning inside, "...Oh. I'm real sorry to hear that."

Despite his fears of having caused offense, you merely shrug off any discomfort, “My family made it out alright and we make do with what we have now. Can't go complaining about that."

"...I'm from a farming village myself - From Ordon,” He goes on to tell in a quiet ramble, “I’ve worked there as a ranch hand practically all my life, overseeing the goats we’re famous for. It’s quaint, and about as far from the big towns as you can get, but homely. And the people there - Why, I don’t think you’ll find anyone more kind and welcoming. Like livin’ in one big family.”

Once again, this probably isn't something he should be saying. If it were him, he'd be beyond distraught to lose the ranch to the point that any reminders would send him spiraling, yet to his continued good fortune, you take his story for what it's meant to be, setting down your spoon with a comforted smile.

"I'd love to see that…" Orondian, how you enchant him with such a soft gaze, taking him hostage in the sea of your sparkling eyes. If Hyrule's tales are any indication for the horrors of this broken world, you must be a true diamond in the rough to be from a place so cruel. Any less personal control and Twilight wouldn't hesitate to ask you to join them - to come along on this adventure and see how beautiful life will someday be. He could take you to Ordon and show you all he’s come to adore - let you breathe the fresh air scented like hay and pine while overlooking the familiar green fields you’ve dearly missed. Who knows? Maybe you’d even ask to stay.

“I’d love to show you…”

"...Is this still a group conversation ooor?" Wild pipes in awkwardly from Twilight’s side, seeming to speak on everyone else’s discomfort as the poor, stricken young man loses himself to this yearning in his heart. This might be a long night and an even longer day tomorrow if they get stuck listening to him fawning over you...

You’re starting to doubt this shift will ever end…

It feels like you’ve been stuck in here for hours with nothing to do aside from sit at the counter and beg the sun to set just a little faster. You've already restocked inventory twice, organized stock to perfection, and swept the floor until your broom broke…If this keeps up, your sanity might just break, too.

Ringing from the front door’s bell gives you at least something to do as you sigh your typical greeting: "Welcome to Gia's General Store, where we have all your - LINK?!"

With a complete shift in mood, you happily leap up from your stool and race around the corner to meet your friend halfway in a tight embrace that you've both gone far too long without, "It's been ages! How have you been? Where have you been?"

Four chuckles at your eager questioning, "It hasn't been that long."

"Really? Because I swear five years have passed from this shift alone…" You groan dramatically before breaking away from the hug to get a solid look at him. Despite the months that have passed, he looks no different than when he had first set out. Good. You like him just the way he is anyway.

"Please tell me you're planning on sticking around for a bit. I’ve been dying for something interesting to happen around here and your stories are just the salvation I need! I only have an hour to go until I can close up, though I'm afraid I might stab myself with a fire arrow before then. It’s been terribly boring!”

That, Four doesn’t doubt. Your home village is as serene as they come which isn’t always a favorable trait in the judgement of two teenagers with more energy coursing through their bones than they know what to do with. Of course, he’s probably done no good helping matters by always filling your head with envious dreams of adventure and mystery.

“We’ll probably be spending the night in town,” He tells you, much to your relief, “In the meantime, we have quite the list of supplies that we need to restock on, if you don’t mind.”

"We?" Somehow you only just notice the group of young men who managed to sneak into the store after Four. A few of them are already looking around at the items you have to offer, while others wait patiently with the hope that they'll be introduced to...Well, whoever you are to their dear friend.

"I would introduce everyone, but we all share the same name."

"All of you?" You look at Four in shock, yet he nods as if it's the most normal thing in the world to him...Then again, it probably is at this rate. Honestly you shouldn't be that surprised yourself. This is Link you're talking to.

"...Huh...Well, feel free to have a look around, I guess, and let me know if you need anything in particular. Arrows are buy one get two free right now, and fully in stock, too, since Link - Er, this Link, hasn't been in town to buy us out,” You explain to the group, jutting a thumb towards Four who rolls his eyes.

Now, usually you become a bit overwhelmed whenever large groups enter your shop, but seeing as these guys are Four's friends, you feel comfortable letting them wander freely. It helps that they seem to know exactly what they're looking for, too, making your job all the easier.

For the most part, the group allows Four and you privacy to catch up, only interrupting your conversation occasionally whenever they have questions about your prices or the quality of your goods, however you aren’t blind to the curious glances they spare you even in silence. No doubt they’re wondering how deep your relationship with Four goes, finding it endearing how at peace the young hero has become in your simple presence.

Most of these glances are quick enough, although you can’t help noticing that one of the boys seems to lack the same subtlety as his friends. Each time you steal a peek through the corners of your eyes, you spot him staring in your direction with an awed look overtaking his face. Whenever someone else nudges him to ask a question, he blinks rapidly with a stammer before bashfully looking away.

‘Cute…’ You’re tempted to think, but then you take notice of how young the boy seems to be. He must be at least a few years younger than Four and you - still a just child, at least by your standards which is an upsetting thought since context clues point to him being a hero, too. If that’s true, that must mean he was as young as Four was when he first set out on all this hero business himself, if not even younger. Poor kid…

Soon enough, Four confirms your suspicions about his traveling companions’ identities, telling you all about the strange portals they’ve traveled through and the journey they’ve been on up until this point. It was mere hours ago that they found themselves this close to home and, well, he couldn’t bear to pass by without seeing you or his uncle.

“Smart. I would’ve been livid had I found out you were in the area and didn’t stop by,” You elbow Four who pushes you back with his shoulder playfully before suddenly glancing behind you. Following his attention, you find the youngest hero standing there shyly, a minish feather necklace in one hand and a small pouch of rupees in the other.

Wind startles, seeming to have not expected your turn, “I, uh, wanted to know how much this was - um, is…So that I can buy it, if I may - for my little sister!”

You notice Four hiding his smirk behind his hand, yet you elect to ignore him for now, instead giving the younger boy your full focus with a kind smile, “How sweet of you. Consider it on the house, kid.”

“R - Really?” He brightens with possibly the widest eyes you’ve ever seen.

“‘course. Think of it as payment for helping my friend here find his way home safely.”

“Wow, thank you miss!” Oh goddesses above, his smile is adorable! He reminds you of the village children who often come here seeking sweet treats, such a simple delight to create lasting joy in their hearts. How you wish you could return to those days yourself - to no longer bear the weight of the world and its troubles in your thoughts. Alas, you could never so skillfully rewind time, but at least you can help protect that same innocence in others, even if only for a moment.

And protect it you do. Even late into the evening, Wind still cherishes that necklace in hand, carefully inspecting its details while kicking his feet giddily in memory of you, the pretty shopkeeper from Four’s Hyrule.

Sure, it probably isn’t that big of a deal. You gave the entire Chain a rather generous discount on their supplies despite their protests, but he was the only one who received your kindness personally without having to share. No one else aside from Four had the joy of seeing your beautiful smile directed his way, your expression soft and comforting like a warm breeze on the summer’s beach.

He hadn’t lied. He does plan on giving the necklace to Aryll once this journey is over, but until then, he’ll probably admire it a little longer, at least until this crush of his settles within his heart.

#x reader #reader insert #linked universe x reader #link x reader #linked universe #legend of zelda #lu legend x reader #lu twilight x reader #lu wind x reader

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amirasainz · 7 months ago

Note

Hi I love your work. I was wondering if you could write one where baby sainz only likes being around Rebecca and Alexandra when she's not with her family.

Enjoy reading and send some requests!

-xoxo, Babygirl 💋

Safe space

Carlos leaned against the garage wall, arms crossed as he watched his sister, Amira, from a distance. The bright lights and buzzing atmosphere of the paddock seemed to envelop her like a whirlwind. Even though she was shy by nature, her presence radiated a kind of quiet charm that made her the center of attention wherever she went. It wasn’t just the fans; drivers, team members, journalists — everyone wanted to steal a glance, get a smile, or hear a word from the younger Sainz.

But despite the admiration, everyone in the paddock knew Amira was reserved. She preferred to stay close to Carlos, rarely venturing far from him or their father during race weekends. Her wide, doe-like eyes would search for him in the crowd when she was overwhelmed, and Carlos would always be there to reassure her with a warm smile and a gentle squeeze on the shoulder.

Over time, however, someone else had started to catch Amira's eye — someone who wasn’t family but felt like she could be. Rebecca, Carlos’s girlfriend, had gradually earned Amira’s trust, giving her the kind of warmth and protection that the young woman craved amidst the chaotic world of Formula 1.

It started with the little things. Amira would glance around nervously, lost in the crowd, and there Rebecca would be, standing beside her, a reassuring hand on her arm. Rebecca was older and had an innate calmness about her that soothed Amira. She made sure Amira was comfortable, brought her a warm jacket when the paddock got chilly, handed her bottles of water or small snacks, and kept eager fans at bay with just a polite but firm look.

And then, there was the incident.

Amira had gotten separated from Carlos after a press event. The fans were closer than usual, crowding around her, each person trying to get a piece of her attention. She felt her pulse quicken, her breath shallow, and she looked around for Carlos, desperately.

But before Carlos could even move toward her, Rebecca was already there. She stepped in, wrapping her arms around Amira and pulling her close, creating a bubble of safety between them and the crowd. Amira didn’t resist; she melted into Rebecca’s embrace, burying her face in the older woman’s shoulder, finding solace in her presence.

“I’ve got you, darling,” Rebecca whispered softly, gently running her hand up and down Amira’s back. She was calm, commanding, effortlessly making it clear to the people around that Amira needed space.

Carlos finally reached them, concern etched across his face. “Hey, Amira,” he started, relieved but worried. “You okay?”

Rebecca tightened her hold just a little, almost protective, and gave Carlos a playful, challenging look. “I don’t know, Carlos. I might just keep her with me for a while.” She spoke softly to Amira, her voice dripping with warmth. “You don’t mind, do you?”

Amira looked up, her face still close to Rebecca’s. She gave a small smile, one that hinted at gratitude, and shook her head slightly. Carlos raised an eyebrow, amused but appreciative. His little sister had finally found someone outside the family who she could trust implicitly.

As the day went on, Rebecca kept Amira close by her side, arm casually draped over her shoulders. She made sure Amira was comfortable, offering her drinks, snacks, or a warm scarf when the breeze picked up. Amira felt protected, almost treasured, in a way that was new yet familiar. She glanced up at Rebecca occasionally, shy but grateful, the same way she looked at Carlos or their father.

And from then on, it was an unspoken understanding in the paddock: Amira Sainz was family, and if Carlos wasn’t by her side, Rebecca would be. Fans and drivers alike watched with quiet admiration. They knew that the young woman who once seemed untouchable and distant now had someone by her side who wasn’t bound by family, but by a deep, gentle care.

Carlos often caught glimpses of Rebecca tucking Amira’s hair behind her ear or shielding her from the more intense crowds with an arm around her shoulders. It was a bond that had formed quietly, a connection that had grown so naturally that it almost surprised him.

One evening, as the team celebrated in the paddock, Carlos watched his sister resting against Rebecca’s shoulder, her eyes half-closed with a content smile on her face. He caught Rebecca’s eye, and she gave him a gentle, knowing smile. There was no need for words; they both knew Amira was safe, cared for — a princess of Formula 1 who had found her protector.

#formula 1 #formula 1 x reader #xoxo babygirl 💋#amira sainz #carlos sainz x sister!reader #carlos sainz x rebecca donaldson #sainz! sister #carlos sainz x reader #f1 x reader

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twizzie-lairs · 1 year ago

Text

My Darling, My Honey

Alastor X Fem!Reader (Part 1)

Quick Notes:

This is when both reader/you and Alastor are both alive. (... we'll probably end up in hell later on btw...)

Reader is an artist/painter.

*disclaimer: i'm not a great writer, nor am I good at writing characters*

Part 1:

On a cold, dreary night, you take solace in a speakeasy to escape your dreadful home life.

You, the reader, are stuck in what feels like a hopeless, loveless, and potentially abusive marriage that was arranged by you and your husband's parents as more of a political/business move.

So you find yourself sneaking out to the next town over at night whenever your "husband" is away. On nights like those, you left the ring at home. It was only a reminder of your hellish life, you wouldn't let anything reminiscent of your husband come with you to your little escape/happy place.

During your occasional outings, you befriended the speakeasy's owner/proprietress, Mimzy, who becomes your most trusted confidant because you didn't have any "friends" or family you could trust- they were the ones who put you in your living hell after all.

Mimzy also became your biggest fan and patron once she found out you're an artist/painter. Many of your paintings became centerpieces at the bar and your art became synonymous with this prestigious speakeasy of hers.

You pocketed all this money and didn't even have to hide the fact that you were painting. He hated art, so as long as it didn't stay in the house, he didn't care where it went. It was the one good thing you had going for you.

After a particularly prolonged period of time of your husband being home and having to endure so much of his bullshit, you find yourself seated at Mimzy's bar with a drink in hand.

A while into the night, but while the night was still young, you hear Mimzy's voice talking to a voice you've never heard before. You were a regular, so you knew all of the other regulars (you were more of an irregular regular, due to your visits being erratic because it all depended on when your husband was out of town).

But this voice caught your attention immediately. When Mimzy and this unknown man round the corner, your head whipped around, just to lock eyes with this new visitor to the bar.

Upon meeting your gaze, you are met with an unexpectedly warm smile, which makes you gasp and make you debate if the man or the alcohol was the culprit of the blush on your face.

Mimzy walked over with the man and introduced him and you to each other. You extended your hand towards him, and much to your surprise, he laid a gentle kiss upon the top of your hand and told you his name. "Alastor."

After witnessing this exchange, Mimzy giggles and runs along and goes to chat with the other patrons, leaving you and Alastor to chat on your own.

Oh and chat you do, yes indeed. You lose track of time and before you knew it, it was time to head home.

Not once in your life had you lost track of time talking to someone before. Never had you felt the butterflies in your stomach like that. The kindness and genuine interest this man showed you, being attentive to your every word, you felt alive. You don't know the last time you felt like this, if you ever have.

-> Part 2

#hazbin #hazbin hotel #fanfic #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x y/n #alastor x reader #alastor x you #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #part 1

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glitteredrry · 4 months ago

Text

sugar honey kisses

summary: harry’s next tour is joined by a special guest that has taken over his life and the world.

warning: brief mention of infertility/ miscarriage & fluff

wc: 3k+

a.n. i’ve been in a writing slump, and i just thought of this. i kind of went overboard (sorry). please excuse any spelling errors. i hope you enjoy these little blurbs. i was missing our harry, and i’m secretly manifesting another tour for us. byeee see y’all soon. 🤍

1. breaking news

Harry sat in the studio stuck on a verse on the last song to his album. He was gearing up to the release of his 4th studio album, and tour. Love on tour was going to be hard to top, but he looked forward to how this tour was going to be. He felt that he was in a better era of his life, all he hoped was that his growth would reflect on this new album. Fans were begging him to come back, and soon their prayers would be answered. His management was going to be releasing the album release date at 9 P.M. tonight. As he thoughtfully bite on the arm of his glasses, in walked in his wife YN. Harry’s eyes shot up looking at her happy to finally see her for the first time today, he had an early studio time today and only was able to give her a kiss to her head as she slept. Harry’s happiness quickly turned to nervousness as he saw a disheveled YN walking closer to him. “Doll, what’s wrong?” As she came in arm’s width from him, he grabbed onto her, and guided her to sit in his lap. Taking the tips of his fingers, he moved her hair out of her face as he watched her eyes tear up. Which only caused him to be more worried, “Harry, I wish I would've waited to tell you but I can’t.” YN reached down in her purse to grab something, and once it was shown to Harry he felt as if his heart rate had tripled in a split second.

“We’re pregnant.” She whispered to him with a smile. Harry was speechless as he stared at the test, he couldn't believe the words that were coming out of her mouth. “You’re serious,” YN nodded, touching his face for some solace. “I’m absolutely serious, we have half of us here.” She grabbed his hand holding him to her stomach. Harry’s tears came crashing down as he laid on her chest still accepting that they were with child. Joy rang through Harry’s body as he felt his wife’s comforting touch all over him. Harry reelected on their journey of building their family, going into everything they thought it would be so easy to add a baby; Yet that was the furthest thing than what it was.

After the loss of two children you never got to meet, Harry had been grief ridden for his wife. YN had the optimism Harry couldn’t bear to have during that time. She tried her best to keep him determined that they would one day have a child. They had tried for two years straight, and as of 10 months ago they stopped deliberately trying, and just left it to divine timing. There were doctor appointments to see if something was off with either of them and everything came back clear. The couple tried IVF, and that also wasn’t for them. Harry couldn’t believe that YN was sitting here pregnant after all this time. Harry quickly remembered his album and tour that was supposed to happen, and panic rushed through him. “I-I need to push back the album. I'll call Jeff, and tell him to postpone the tour.” “Absolutely not, you’re not pushing anything back, H. You’re releasing the album, and you’re going on tour. This baby will have to fit into our lives, we’re going to have a tour baby.” Harry smiled at his wife hugging her tightly, he didn’t know how this was going to happen. All he knew is that he loved and trusted his wife. If he had her he could get through anything.

2. trending topic

The world was preparing for the release of the album “Saturn Return”. He had given it that title because he believed he was in his life's peak. Harry was elated as he did his press tour. He felt reconnected to his fans in a way where he had missed them. As Harry was in the green room preparing for his last appearance before the album dropped, Harry’s manager, Jeff walked into the room with his phone in hand. “We have a slight situation going on. Pictures of YN leaving her gym class were released today. She looks visibly pregnant in them. I could release a statement to the press to calm the media, or we can ignore it.”

Harry was furious because he knew that where YN was pictured was an alley. She tried her best to be as inconspicuous as she could. YN was bent over, tying her shoe, and her shirt came up, revealing her growing belly. “I’m sure she’s going to be upset at herself,” Harry kissed his teeth, hating that he would have to break the news of this to his wife. As he continued scrolling online, he saw how fans defended their beloved YN, and Harry appreciated the support at this time. Harry looked at the time and would have to be out there in five minutes. So, he quickly dialed YN. When she answered the phone, Harry explained what had just happened, and the couple decided that the media wouldn’t push them to say anything. This was for them to reveal when they wanted to. Harry rushed to the stage as Jeff followed him, “I want you to make sure there are no questions about what is out right now, no family questions in general. Understood?” He said to Jeff sternly.

As not only a husband but now a father it was his duty to protect his unborn child. Jeff nodded and spread the message. Not commenting on this assumption from the press didn’t make it die down. It only brought more media attention to the couple. On the night of the album release, Harry decided to have a private dinner in New York to celebrate his achievement. YN wore a dress that took attention away from her bump, but as the couple approached the restaurant, paparazzi attacked the couple, asking questions, and someone hit YN, making her nearly fall to the ground. “Move back. Get the fuck away from her,” he created a barrier around YN, making sure she was on her feet. “You okay, doll?” “I’m fine. That just scared me.” Harry held her hand, pressing a brief kiss to her hand as they walked through the door. The media only got worse as time went on. He knew that they wouldn’t stop until they had an answer. So, YN thought of a way to announce the tour that Harry couldn’t resist. Harry’s hand hovered over the “share” button on Instagram as he looked at his wife. “You sure?” “Yes, press it, Harry. It’s now or never.” Harry hit the button and shut off his phone. Within ten minutes of the post being out, the couple was trending on Twitter with one simple post.

Laugh On Tour. Coming 2025. +1.

3. not your average gender reveal

YN had just become accustomed to tour life, and she would soon be leaving to prepare to give birth. Harry pampered her throughout the tour, ensuring she had her own dressing room to cater to all her needs. YN was sad to say she would leave the tour, but soon, her baby would be here. Harry took it seriously that he wouldn’t have YN flying for the last two months of her pregnancy. In the four months, YN had been on tour with Harry, fans loved pregnant YN content. She was considered a style icon with her looks not only during their time off but at shows. YN would sometimes be recorded more at his shows than him, as fans would see her on the side of the stage dancing with her pregnant belly. Harry often joked with fans and asked them about his dad's jokes and if he needed to improve them. Fans would boo or cheer, and it became a fun section of the show. “How about that one, honey?” Harry asked YN on the mic, putting her on blast. As the fans turned their attention to YN, her reaction would be what the audience followed with. YN shook her head and threw out a thumbs down. Then, the crowd followed with booing. “I love constructive criticism. I’ll work on a better one. I’m trying to make my baby laugh when they get here. I would rather get booed here than with my baby.” He shot YN a wink and continued to the next song.

The moment between the couple went viral, and people wondered what the child's gender was. As the couple sat in the bath together after a show, YN thought of something that had been in her head for two weeks since fans had been asking about the gender of their child. Harry rubbed on her growing bump and hummed as he felt himself destressing. “Harry, we should do a gender reveal for my last show with you. Well, the last one for my time on tour, what do you think?” “This tour has felt like a special one. I can’t describe it, but it feels more personal than past ones. I think that would be a great idea.” Harry’s team got ready for the big day and decided that the best idea for this last-minute gender reveal would be to do it right before the closing song, “Kiwi.” YN would be joining him on stage for the first time since they’ve been together, which would also be a massive moment for the couple. Harry took a sip of water after finishing up a song, and he couldn’t help but smile at himself, knowing that the crowd was about to go crazy. “Now, I hate to say that we are coming to an end. But we are. Soon, you will be stuck in traffic, and I will be thinking of you all and the laughter we have shared. Before you go, though, I want to invite a special guest. To all you people trying to sneak off, I see you, so sit down. You won't want to miss this. Please welcome my wife, YN Styles, to the stage.”

YN comes from stage left with a big black balloon, making the crowd scream so loud her ears begin to hurt. “Everyone calm down. My baby is sleeping. Shhh.” Harry said to the crowd as he embraced YN. “Many of you don’t know, but, today is my wife’s last show with me.” The crowd began to say “no” collectively, sounding upset she was making a departure. “It will only be a short break, but when she returns, our baby will be here. So, today, we will be celebrating our baby before their arrival. YN, will you give us the honor of sharing the gender of our baby?” Harry said as if it was nothing, and it was at that exact moment all phones in the room were up, ready to capture the iconic moment happening before them. “Wait, before you pop it, let's add some suspense, right?” Harry looked toward the band as they teased the crowd with music. There was anxious screaming across Wembley Stadium. At each sound of the music, you heard and felt the tension. Harry gave YN the cue to pop the balloon, and as she did, pink confetti flew out, causing the crowd to squeal, cry, and shout, saying how they knew it was a girl. The instrumental to Kiwi started. YN and Harry shared a sweet kiss as YN exited the stage. At the show's end, pink fireworks ended the best night of Harry’s career.

4. tour baby

Everything has been perfect for Harry and YN for the past three months. They couldn’t be happier with their baby girl Genevieve, or Vivi as Harry called her. YN left the tour five months ago, and now she had their three-month-old daughter in her hands, staring back at her. Harry decided to go on break during the middle of his tour to spend three months with his family without worrying about it. YN gave birth in December of 2025, and now, in April, Harry would be heading back for tour, and YN would be joining him again. Harry had been so consumed by their bubble that he almost dreaded coming back for a tour. YN would be lying if she said she wouldn’t miss his attention, and his time. It was the sad side of touring that she was familiar with. YN always knew his family was his number one priority. Now, going back on tour, the fact of the matter is that they aren’t his only priority. Naturally, with Harry touring, it could weigh down on him. He became tired easily or just lacked being attentive in other areas. It wasn’t necessarily his fault.

The tour just consumes his life. Harry had promised her that he wouldn’t let that happen this time around. YN was going through postpartum depression, and expressed to Harry her feelings. Harry took that into account and constantly tried to pour love into YN. Sometimes, his sugar honey kisses got her through the day. YN felt wholly supported as she transitioned to becoming a mother. Harry was the perfect spouse during this time; as Harry prepared to return to tour, there had to be many accommodations for Vivi and YN. Harry wanted to ensure they had everything and more that they needed. Harry was nervous about his baby girl coming to tour, he knew the media would wish to have the first look at his child. His only priority was to protect his family. Over the break, Harry and YN had many talks about the transition that would be taking place. Nannies were in place for the rest of the tour, and there was a schedule the couple would try their best to follow.

On the first day back from tour, the crew fell in love with Vivi. Harry made sure to have a long talk with everyone about the boundary with his most precious gift the world gave him, and he made sure to have NDAs signed for anyone who would be working on the tour. If news were to leak about Vi, he doesn’t know how he would react. Truly he would feel betrayed. As Harry was on stage, he saw signs all around the stadium asking about his baby girl. “She’s happy, we’re happy,” Harry said to a fan sign. Towards the middle of the concert, fans across the Camp Nou stadium got a notification while Harry was dancing across the stage, which caused all of them to scream.

Laugh On Tour. Barcelona I. April, 2026.

5. bittersweet first birthday

Vivi was the star of the tour, and as her first birthday approached, she knew this. As she gained consciousness, she joined Harry for soundcheck and even joined him in singing (which was just her screaming). Harry was overjoyed that it seemed like his baby girl was enjoying this side of his life. He had many fears that she would be scared of the loud music, but instead, she embraced it. As Vi got older, YN thought it would be good to start showing her to attend concerts.

Typically, during shows, Vivi would be backstage with a nanny. During Vivi's 6 months on tour, she finally sat in a suite with YN, watching her father perform on stage, and it seemed that she enjoyed it. At nine months old, even though she had protective earphones, YN often caught her hanging on to the songs she once knew in the womb. It looked as if she was relearning them as the months flew by. Now, one day away from her first birthday, Harry and YN both share tears about this bittersweet birthday. Of course, the couple was happy that their child was turning one year old while Harry was on tour, but the tour would end a month after Vi’s birthday, and it felt like an era of all of their lives would be ending. Vi was conceived right before this era of their lives, and Harry had reached heights of his career that he had never reached before. He had to credit this to his wife and child for all attributes.

Harry felt a sense of motivation and drive that he never had before. Vi was the inspiration for everything in his life, and he knew that shortly after this tour ended, he would be working on an album dedicated to his daughter. Watching her grow had caused him to jot down small notes about what he would write about for the next album. Vi was the inspiration of his life. Harry wanted to share his daughter with fans because they patiently waited and never invaded his space in public when they saw his daughter was with him. Harry kept Vi’s identity under wraps, although some articles would pull different things together about what they thought his daughter looked like. Sharing the most private thing in Harry’s life made him anxious; he was exposing Vi to the public eye's scrutiny. Harry knew how difficult it would be to keep her hidden as she grew into a toddler.

As she got older, Vi would attempt to snatch the blankets off that kept her hidden, or she would try to peek out from her stroller as the flashing noises from cameras were on her. Harry knew he wouldn’t show her often, so he wanted the first time to be a special occasion. Once he brought up the idea of singing “Happy Birthday” to her on stage to YN, it was something YN had to agree to. As Harry performed to a crowd of 78,000 people, he knew it was time for his surprise before he took a brief intermission. His fans didn’t necessarily know the date of Vi’s birthday, so this would be something else that was personal to him. “If you all would join me, it’s a very special someone’s first birthday.” The crowd cheered loudly as Harry laughed briefly at the reaction, opening his eyes in shock at the loud cheering. “That’s the best you can do?” He said sarcastically as the crowd screamed louder. “I think we should bring our guest out on stage…what do you say?” As the crowd continued to cheer, it dawned on them that this would be the first look at his daughter. “Don’t scare her too bad; she’s new to show business. Welcome my pride and joy to the stage, Vivi. Come here.” YN sat Vi down and YN instructed her to walk to Harry. Vivi walked out on stage to her father with stumbling legs as if the stage and crowd were second nature to her. As Vi walked into Harry’s opening arms, the crowd loudly aww’ed as Vi laid her head on Harry’s shoulder. “Now, don’t make my baby cry. Let’s have a nice hushed happy birthday to my Vi.” The crowd listened to Harry and joined him in singing to Vivi. Which seemed to surprise her as the crowd said her name to her, “Happy birthday, Vivi,” Harry said, then he pressed a kiss to the side of her head feeling more emotional than he thought he would.

Vi clung to his body as Harry walked off stage to an emotional YN. When the show ended, the crew decided to do something special for Vivi, which had Harry and YN thanking everyone for hours afterward. That night in the hotel, Genevive was sleeping in between the couple after her sugar crash from eating too much cake. Harry and YN watched the online outpour of love and admiration for their baby.

NEW DADRRY CONTENT

Happy birthday to the laugh on tour baby

Aww she has his eyes

Harry and YN reacted to different comments, which also led to playful arguments about who she looked more like. YN was happy with her decision that Harry continued to go on tour, creating memories for a lifetime as a family. Everything fell into the right place for the couple, and the timing couldn’t have been more perfect. As weeks passed, Harry was on cloud nine when his tour ended, and he couldn’t wait until the next tour to see how much more involved Vi would be. He thought of including her throughout his next album, too. He just wanted something to capture her at this age, his personal time capsule. His family slept upstairs in their London home, and before he joined his wife for bed, he posted one last picture to conclude the end of this era.

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. This is goodbye for now, but not forever. I love you always. - H & V

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fic rec #harry styles fluff #harry styles fic #harry styles blurb #harry styles x y/n #harry styles drabble #harry styles imagine

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outofgloom · 2 days ago

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Bionicle: Masks of Power - Matoric Conlang Dialogue Files

As you may have seen, it's now been publicly announced that LEGO has asked for the Bionicle: Masks of Power fan game by Team Kanohi to be shut down.

You can read the announcement letter from Team Kanohi here, and also view a walkthrough of the game demo on YouTube, with and without dev commentary. The demo would have been released on 8/10 of this year.

As I've posted about before, the game was slated to feature fully voice-acted lines in the Matoran Language conlang ("Matoric"), and I've been contributing Matoric line translations for this purpose for a few years now. This work amounted to nearly 800 individual lines of Matoric dialogue translated.

Needless to say, this was a very disappointing thing to experience behind the scenes, after the amount of work that Team Kanohi had put into the game, and (in my opinion) it's an extremely poor repayment from LEGO for the enthusiasm that the team has created in the Bionicle fandom over the years, although not unexpected or shocking on LEGO's part.

With that said, there is some solace to be found in the fact that many resources from the game, including 3D models, music, art, and other development materials, have been preserved by the team (for the time being) via Google Drive. This includes all of the individually recorded voice-actor lines in Matoric!

Here is a link to the full Google Drive.

Here is a link to the folder containing the Matoric line recordings.

Here is a link to a spreadsheet containing all of the written Matoric lines and their English translations (along with a few fun easter eggs).

Finally, here are the credits for the audio directors and individual voice actors whose excellent work was represented in the game:

Voice Acting Directors Tasch Ritter Gort (Garrett B)

Voice Acting Lewa ……………….. Dane Braddy Pohatu ……………….. Gianni Matragrano Gali ……………….. Tasch Ritter Onua ……………….. Ashley Quills Kopaka ……………….. Tom Schalk Tahu ……………….. Wes Wiggins Makuta ……………….. Justice Washington Mata Nui ……………….. Justice Washington Matoran 1 ……………….. Ethan Godwin Matoran 2 ……………….. Viator Matoran 3 ……………….. Lou Haroldson Matoran 4 ……………….. Tasch Ritter Matoran 5 ……………….. Mark (Markle) Stefely Matoran 6 ……………….. Anna Maguire Matoran 7 ……………….. SyntheticCharmVa Matoran 8 ……………….. Tabitha Bardall Matoran 9 ……………….. Mark Beischel Matoran 10 ……………….. Jordan (Jocool1231) Willis Matoran 11 ……………….. Quinn Stokan Matoran 12 ……………….. Abigail Adair Matoran 13 ……………….. Cody (MasterGir) Littlefield Matoran 14 ……………….. Zane Schacht Narrator ……………….. Justice Washington Announcer ……………….. David Michael Williamson

I was honored to be able to contribute to this project in a small way, and I hope that the Bionicle community will continue to support the team as it rebrands and moves on to future projects.

#bionicle #masks of power #bmop #games #matoran language #matoric #conlanging #translation #voice acting #b:mop

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imagine-it-was-us · 2 months ago

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ease || Lando Norris

Inspiration: Troye Sivan "Ease"

Author's note: First off – just like DTS, the F1 season of 2019 was dramatized to fit the narrative better. I tried to tie it to the events that actually happened as best as I could, but when you actually look at the season, Lando wasn't bad – the car was. Hope you like it.

Pairing: Lando Norris x Reader

Warnings: Anxiety, declining mental health.

Summary: Amid the highs and lows of a debut Formula 1 season, Lando navigates the pressures of the sport, self-doubt, and the weight of expectations. Through late-night phone calls and quiet moments of vulnerability, he finds solace in the one person who sees beyond the headlines.

Word count: 2k+

[Phone ringing…]

"Lando?? Hii!"

"Hey, you answered!" He grinned, leaning back against the couch.

"Of course I did! It’s your first Grand Prix of the year! I’m literally getting ready to go to Oliver’s and watch it." A pause. "Also, you called me, so you expected me to be up, didn’t you?"

"Yeah… but I kinda thought you’d still be asleep."

"I couldn’t. The nerves barely let me." A small pause. "Speaking of which—how are you feeling?"

"Oh, the nerves are definitely there. Jon’s been on my case about it. I barely slept and just forced down breakfast. Outqualifying Carlos was bold, and now I’m wedged between Kimi and Kevin… Those guys have years of experience. It’s gonna be tough to hold my own. I know no one expects me to land a podium, but, you know… a point would be nice."

"Oh, come on, Lando. It’s your first career race as a holder of an F1 seat! You’re not a reserve anymore, but you can’t hold yourself to such a high standard already. I know you hate losing, and I know being here is your dream, but please—keep it realistic."

"I know, I know." He exhaled. "But that’s the thing – I love this. The nerves are there, sure, but the excitement? It’s bigger. I’ve been dreaming about this since I was a kid, and now it’s happening. It’s surreal. Like… I was just a fan, and now I’m in it."

"And that’s exactly why you need to enjoy it, Lando. Whether you finish in the points or not, everyone will be proud of you just for crossing that line. I’m already proud."

Lando chuckled softly. "Look at you, being my best cheerleader."

"I am! And you don’t give yourself enough credit for what you’ve done. You created this life for yourself. Now live it. To the fullest. Don’t let expectations steal the joy from you."

There was a quiet beat between them. Lando let the words sink in before murmuring, "Thanks."

"Anytime."

He glanced at the clock. "I should probably get going."

"Yeah. But Lando?"

"Hm?"

"Enjoy it. Every second of it."

A slow, growing smile spread across his face. "I will."

The call ended, but the words lingered.

_____________

[Phone ringing…]

"Hola, chica."

"Thank God, Lando." She exhaled sharply. "You’re alright?"

"Yeah, of course. Not a bruise on me. Just... gutted."

"I figured. It looked like quite the crash." A pause. "Obviously, I’m relieved you’re okay. Lance is as well, I guess?"

"Oh yeah, not a scratch."

"Lando–"

"I’m just really upset, you know?" He let out a breath, frustration laced in his voice. "I was already gutted after what happened in China, but at least then, I knew I didn’t do anything wrong. And today? Today, I did exactly what Kvyat did. I took someone out of the race. It wasn’t intentional, but… it doesn’t matter. I still feel like shit."

"Lando, accidents happen."

"I know." His voice dropped. "But that doesn’t help. What if McLaren thinks they made a mistake signing me? Maybe I should’ve stayed a reserve driver for another season, learned more before jumping in."

A silence stretched between them before he muttered, "All this driving is driving me crazy, actually."

Her heart clenched. "Oh, my sweet Lando… You’re doing it again, aren’t you? Beating yourself up over things that are part of the learning process?"

He didn’t answer right away. She could hear him shifting around, the rustle of fabric as he lay back against something.

"You’ve had, what? Five races?" she continued. "So what if half of them didn’t go as planned? Two of them did! You scored points, even outscored Carlos once. Do you really think McLaren doesn’t see that? That they’re not excited about what you’re bringing to the team? You’re learning. Even if today feels like a disaster, it’s just a part of the curve—"

"A really fucking steep curve."

"Maybe. But it’s still just a curve."

A heavy sigh left his lips.

"I appreciate your pep talks more than you know." He hesitated before adding, "I’m just… tired. And alone." His voice softened. "Maybe you’ll join me for the French GP? It’s not that far from home…"

She sighed. "Lando, I’m stuck at uni. Even Silverstone might be a struggle. But… I’ll try my best."

"Yeah." He let out a quiet chuckle. "Figured that was a long shot."

"But you’re coming home tomorrow, right?"

"I am, but I heard we have to go straight to MTC. They want us to go over everything, break it all down so we can learn from these mistakes. Might not have much time at home."

"We’ll figure something out, okay?"

"Yeah. Okay."

A beat of silence, then she sighed. "Look, I have to go. I have a shift at the café. But, Lando?"

"Yeah, baby?"

"Please take care of yourself."

A pause. Then, softer than before– "I’ll try."

_____________

[Phone ringing…]

"Hi, Lan, sorry—I was just on the phone with Cisca."

"Oh, so that’s how we’re catching up now, huh? Interrogating my mother?"

"Actually," she paused briefly, "it was the other way around."

A beat of silence.

"What do you mean?" His confusion was audible.

"She’s worried about you. Especially after today. And…" she hesitated, unsure of how he’d take it, "she thinks you’re not being honest about how hard this lifestyle really is on you."

A sigh. A shift of fabric.

"And what did you say to her?" His voice was careful, guarded.

"I didn’t throw you under the bus, if that’s what you’re thinking." She let out a small breath. "But Lan… she knows. She’s your mother. Of course, she knows. And honestly? I think she’s right."

"Right about what?"

"That it’s taking a toll on you, even if you won’t admit it." A pause. "And that you’re not talking to anyone about it. Not even me."

"Listen–"

"It’s okay, Lando, I get it." Her tone softened. "You’ve always been the one to brush things off, to keep things light, to act like none of this weighs you down. But I know you too well for that. I see it, even if you don’t say it."

A silence stretched between them. For a moment, she thought he had hung up.

Then–

"When the paparazzi swarmed me today, when they kept pushing and shouting questions about the car, my career, if I thought I was failing—" he exhaled sharply, his voice falling quieter, as if he was telling a secret. "I thought, ‘I’m afraid of the life that I’ve made.’"

Her heart clenched.

"I knew what I was stepping into. I dreamt about this. But I never imagined people could be so cruel, so invasive. And then there’s all the articles, all the headlines about McLaren’s downfall, and guess whose face they always put next to them? Not Carlos. Me."

"That’s bullshit, what they are doing."

"It is." His voice was raw. "I get that Carlos is performing better, but blaming everything on me? Acting like I’m the reason the team is struggling? It’s just… unfair."

"You’re right. It is unfair." She wanted to reach through the phone, to shake him, to remind him of how much he’d already accomplished. "But tell me, Lando – what can we do? How can I help? How can your family, your friends… what do you need?"

Another pause. Then, softer–

"I don’t know."

But at least for the first time, he didn’t brush her off.

She held onto that small win and carried on. "Well, your parents are coming to France and Austria." A beat. "And I’m doing everything in my power to join you in Silverstone."

He let out a breath, but she wasn’t done.

"Lando, what people say online? It’s bullshit. They don’t know you. They see what they want to see, and they make judgments from the outside. Don’t give them the power to decide how you feel about yourself."

Silence hummed between them for a moment before he muttered, almost to himself, "I just realized that on top of everything, I’m a shit boyfriend. I didn’t even ask you how uni is going."

She huffed, exasperated. "Bullshit talking again, Lan."

A small, tired chuckle from his end.

"Call me an idiot, or just in love, but you are the best thing that has ever happened to me." Her voice softened. "And my struggles? They’re practically nonexistent compared to yours. I don’t have the whole world judging my every step."

A deep breath, a sigh.

"That doesn’t mean they don’t matter."

"Chill, we catch on to my boring life plenty. Same old, not failing and exams are coming at the end of June. I will be fine. As long as you are."

____________

[Phone ringing…]

"Lando, thank God you picked up. Talk to me, please"

On her end, the faint hum of the city – cars rushing past, muffled voices, footsteps against pavement. On his end? Nothing.

A shaky breath. Then – his voice, barely above a whisper. "I just don’t think I can do it anymore."

He hated admitting it. Hated how the words tasted like failure on his tongue. But God, he was so tired of trying to hide it.

Her grip on the phone tightened.

It was just one article. One goddamn article. McLaren considering a lineup change. His picture plastered all over it. He didn’t even read the full thing—if he had, he would’ve seen it was about 2021, about Sainz’s contract coming to an end, about how McLaren needed to step up to keep Carlos.

But he never got that far.

The comments were enough.

That McLaren made a mistake promoting him. That he was too young. That he was the reason McLaren kept failing.

He swallowed. She could hear it.

"What if they are right? What if stepping down would be the most mature thing to do. McLaren believed in me so much, I can’t help feeling like I’m failing them."

"Lando, you are not failing anyone. That article wasn’t even about you."

"You just say that to make me feel better.” A humorless chuckle. “Maybe I’m not cut out for this?"

"Stop. You are at the hotel, right?"

"Yes."

Silence stretched between them. He exhaled shakily, bracing himself for whatever comfort she was about to offer – except before he could even process her question, there was a hard knock against his door.

"Are you–?" His voice, laced with disbelief.

"Open the door."

He heard it both coming through the door and the phone.

His heart stuttered. With hesitant steps, he unlocked the door, and the moment it swung open, she was there – standing in front of him, eyes scanning his face, taking him in. And he must’ve looked like shit, because she didn’t hesitate.

The door clicked shut behind them as she dropped the handbag and stepped forward, wrapping herself around him. No hesitation, no questions. Just warmth.

He froze for half a second before melting into it, arms tightening around her, his cheek resting against the top of her head. Her touch was comforting. She smelled like home. Like the one place where nothing hurt.

She buried her face in his chest as she spoke softly. "You are none of the things internet trolls make you out to be. Your family and friends are rooting for you every time you cross that line, whether it’s P6 or DNF. Your team? They believe in you, you weren’t offered the seat by mistake or pure luck, it was your skill that guaranteed that. Carlos?" She hesitated for a beat. "He’s extremely proud to have you as a teammate, you keep him on his toes, and he’s worried sick about you."

His brows furrowed. "Carlos?"

"Before you say anything, I’ve been keeping in touch with him since you introduced us in Silverstone, he was just keeping an eye on you. How do you think I knew which room to go to?" She let out a small chuckle. "He cares about you, Lan. We all do."

He didn’t respond. He didn’t have to. He just held on tighter, like letting go would send him spiraling again.

"This bullshit will pass. Don’t let them win. You don’t shut them up by stepping down, Lan. You do it by proving them wrong."

She could feel his breathing slow, the way his shoulders – usually burdened with the weight of the world – dropped ever so slightly. Maybe things wouldn’t miraculously get better overnight. Maybe the doubt wouldn’t disappear in a snap.

But he still felt the fragile sense of ease building in his chest.

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