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#they deserve all the soft times together okay
afterglowsainz · 12 hours
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the great war | max verstappen, lando norris
pairing: max verstappen x reader x lando norris
summary: no one knows that you’re dating max and lando and everyone just assumes the worst
fc: amaya crichton
a/n: p1 and p2 in singapore… you know what that means 🤭
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liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and others
yourusername last few days in the big apple 🗽🍎
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username a rhode girlie yesss
username so chic i love her
username so gorgeous
username the most beautiful 🤩
username ariana what are you doing here 🤣 (max and lando)
username not them liking the same girl 🤣
username jesus is just a like chill
username so gorgeous i wish new york was real 😍
yourusername’s instagram stories
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[caption 1: comfort movie💗] [caption 2: short break🌞]
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liked by landonorris, yourusername and others
maxverstappen1 enjoying summer break ☀️
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username ohhh he’s with lando that’s sweet
username DAMN
username i cannot handle the second pic right now
username he’s so babygirl
landonorris 😎 (liked by maxverstappen1)
username thinking unholy thoughts 😮‍💨
martingarrix 🤪
username both at the same time
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liked by f1wags and others
f1gossip max verstappen and lando norris where seen enjoying the summer break together with friends
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username max 😮‍💨😮‍💨
username barking like a dog
username who’s the girl 😩😩
username wait isn’t that y/n y/l/n?
username yes! i knew i recognized her from somewhere
username who is sheee
username some influencer i think, max and lando had been liking her pictures for a while now
username ahhh she’s very pretty
username im gonna need some context as to how my girl y/n knows max and lando
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liked by maxverstappen1, martingarrix and others
yourusername 🌺🌊🏝
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username BEAUTIFUL
username ughhh the prettiest
username love that bikini
username she seems like a gold digger 😭 get away
username okay i get max and lando
username girl are you with lando? or max? i gotta know 😩
username so mother
username mmm no i don’t like her
username INSANE face card
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liked by maxfewtrell, magui_corceiro and others
landonorris summer days ☀️
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username cute🦦
username max the ultimate wag
username i need someone to look at me the way max looks at lando
username sir the last pic??? who are we trying to soft launch here?
username my boyfriend and his wag 😍
maxverstappen1 😊
landonorris 😚
username no cause this is a totally normal interaction
username who is he soft launching i’m not gonna be able to rest 😩
lnfour 👀
username what do you know ???
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f1gossip driver max verstappen was seen on a romantic date last night with influencer y/n y/l/n in monaco
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username i hope you’re okay knowing this information killed me
username they’re dating omggg 🥰
username they really look so cute together!
username please say sike right now 😭
username she gives me the WORST vibes i can’t
username you’re just jealous omg he’s and adult he can date whoever he wants
username why does he have such bad taste in women? 🤮
username love them! they look perfect together 😍
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liked by f1wags and others
f1gossip driver lando norris was seen on a romantic date earlier today at the beach with influencer y/n y/l/n in monaco
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username uhmmm what
username 😭😭😭
username is this a joke?
username see how all the girlies that were supporting y/n are very quiet now.
username is she playing both of them? HAH
username i knew she was a gold digger omg
username lando baby stand up
username this is such disgusting behavior honestly 🥱
username she doesn’t deserve any of them
username people can be friends 🤷🏽‍♀️
username bestie look at the pics again they are most definitely NOT friends
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liked by f1gossip, pietra.pilao and others
f1wags influencer y/n y/l/n this weekend at the paddock. it seems she was for a little while in the mclaren garage and then she went to red bull
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username absolutely not 🤢
username can this girl be any more obvious?
username girl keeps swapping omg just pick one! or leave both of them alone!
username who invited her? no one wants her there 😭
username well if she was there someone obviously wanted her to be
username you guys just critize her all the time yet ignore how lando and max where looking at her the whole weekend
username and that’s exactly the reason … why does she have to play with their feelings like that?
username we don’t care!
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liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1 and others
yourusername birthday in austinnnn with my loves🧡💙
tagged landonorris and maxverstappen1
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username oh she clocked everyone and their mothers
username what were y’all bitches saying about her playing them???
username THE HARD LAUNCH ATE
username now those comments between max and lando make more sense 😭
username the hate this girl got and it was all for nothing! she’s beautiful and everyone was just jealous
pietra.pilao happy birthdayyyy 💘 (liked by yourusername)
alexandrasaintmleux happy birthday my y/n!🤍 (liked by yourusername)
username the fact no one thought they could all be dating is CRIMINAL
username hot throuple hot throuple 🚨
maxverstappen1 happy birthday liefje, ik houd van jou❤️ (i love you)
yourusername love you too max❤️
landonorris can’t say i love you in another language but i love you 3000❤️‍🩹
yourusername 😭😭😭 i love you
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Hi can u please write about domestic life with Bills Eric Draven? Can there be fluffy and smutty moments? Tyyyy
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Boy can I??? I’d be DELIGHTED. His domesticity is all I think about. He’s the sweetest, kindest and most loving bf and you can’t change my mind. I got a little carried away! Hopefully this is what you were wanting! Enjoy doll!
Bf!Eric x gf!reader. Explicit sexual content under the cut, minors dni, oral (f receiving), p in v. brief mentions of drug use, mostly fluffy relationship stuff
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It wasn’t entirely easy. You and Eric. The circumstances under which you met and the nature of the both of you was quite dysfunctional. You were chaos, and he was a mess. But it worked. The two of you. You worked perfectly. You weren’t sure what it was, you had never been able to maintain a healthy relationship with anyone. But it was almost like you were meant to be together. If you didn’t believe in the whole soulmates thing, you started to believe it when you met Eric.
He was so unreal, so out of this world. He was always by your side, fingers laced with yours, arm thrown over your shoulder. He always had to be touching you, whether it was something as little as holding your hand, or going as far as putting you in a matting press when he fucked you, because he hated the idea of not being as close to you as possible. He never meant to, he didn’t even know what it was. He just did it one day. Your knees damn near next to your head, your body nearly folded in half as he draped his body over yours. You didn’t even know your body could bend this way. But god this you like it. How deep he could be this way. And you had him so close you could hear his little sounds, his hard breathing and his soft grunts.
He always felt a little bad, manhandling you around like you were nothing. If he wasn’t bending your body in ways you didn’t think were human, he was putting you in a headlock as he took you from behind, one arm draped around your neck from shoulder to shoulder. He just wanted you close, afraid you’d run away. But he sometimes forgot to take it easy on you. You always assured him you were more than happy with him, that he wouldn’t hurt you. Deep down it made you all kinds of earn to know you could arise such passions from him. For someone so morbidly quiet and nonchalant, Eric was very intense and passionate lover.
“It’s okay, baby. I got you. You’re doing so good.” He would tell you, his voice soft and quiet in your ear, grounding you as his cock fucked you into nothing. “I just want to make you feel good, hm? Just want to make you feel good. That’s what you deserve.”
“I don’t deserve this. You’re too good for me.” He would say, his lips on your cheek as quiet moans spilled from your lips. “You’re just so… I can’t believe you’re all mine.” His name falling from your lips would be the end of him. So soft and desperate for him. He didn’t have much experience before you, but now he just can’t get enough of you. He wanted to be all over you at all times it actually upset him when you had to leave or when he did.9
But he was also oh so kind, so gentle and patient with you. He always followed you around like an oversized puppy, quietly listening to whatever tangent you would go on about. You could be cursing up a storm (albeit not directed at him) and he would take it with a straight face and big eyes. And it was often that nothing more but his presence would calm you down, center you.
“How do you do it?” You asked him one day, hot tears staining your face after a day of one stressor after another. Eric had managed to get you on the couch where he silently sat you down on his lap. You almost immediately curled up into his lap, legs tucked under you and your head on his chest. You felt an almost instant sense of relief and peace fill you, and you were sighing deeply, feeling your heart slow its fast beating.
“Do what?” He asked you softly, his fingers massaging your head calmly. You rested your hand on his chest, eyes closed.
“This. You calm me down. I was crying two minutes ago and now I feel… okay.” You felt him shrug under you and when you looked up he had a smile on his face. That smile could make you forget any grief or sadness you might have, because none of it really mattered.
But it wasn’t just him who could bring you peace, you were his, too. His lows weren’t as intense or visible as yours, but when he was at his low, he was at an all time low. He wouldn’t speak, he wouldn’t eat, he would just go about his day like a corpse, eyes dead and empty and his mind elsewhere. You understood he had his issues too, so you tried to be there for him without pushing him. You were more subtle. You’d make him dinner, you’d invite him to watch a movie with you. And you’d tangle up with him on the couch as you all but forced him to eat, and you’d talk to him about your day. But something so small always meant so much to him. He couldn’t help the way he felt, he couldn’t help his negative thoughts that drove him to do drugs in the first place, but having you around to remind him someone in this world loved and cared for him, it made it all a little bit easier.
Eric started to bring you flowers one day. Every week once a week, he could come home with your favorite flowers. He alternated colors. With a sheepish smile he’d stand in the doorway with his hands behind his back. And the way he would look at you when gushed about how pretty they were was like he was looking at the most beautiful thing in the world, the only one that mattered. And to him you were. Seeing that smile on your face was the only thing he ever wanted to do.
“You like them?” He would ask as if it wasn’t obvious, but he’d do it just to hear you giggle and watch you all but skip to put them in water. “Yeah? I saw them and thought about you.”
He always thought about you. There wasn’t a single waking second where he didn’t. You were good for him. And he knew that. He didn’t need anything else to fill the emptiness in his chest because he had you. You had filled that hole and he made sure you knew that everyday.
Eric had many ways to show his love and devotion for you. He wrote you poems, he drew for you, you had so many sketches you have started to run out of places to hang them, but this one was by far his favorite. He could spend literal hours between your legs. He absolutely loved it. He was absolutely obsessed with it.
“E-Eric.. Please.” You were shaking, sweating, incoherent as his tongue circled on your clit, his long fingers fucking you through your, fourth, fifth? You stopped keeping count. He had been down there for an eternity. He just kept asking for one more, just one more and he’d leave you alone. But it wasn’t enough. He was quite obsessive with the things he wanted.
But he figured he’d have to give you a break eventually. He was also painfully hard.
“I’m sorry baby.” He muttered softly as he crawled up your body, using the back of his hand to wipe the mess you had made, but his plush lips were still bright red and glistening. “You know I get carried away sometimes… You’re just so..”
He would kiss your face, brush your hair, soothe you back into a functioning human being. It wasn’t often that Eric vocalized his thoughts, but in moments like this when he felt safe and comfortable enough to be vulnerable, he would tell you all about how pretty you were, how talented you were, how much he loved you.
Eric was always full of surprises. He was quiet and nonchalant, but he was impulsive. You learned that very quickly.
“Baby?” You heard Eric call out to you as he came into the loft. You sat on the computer as you listened to one of his recordings. He had asked you to help him out since he really wanted to start pursuing his music and art now that he actually had someone that supported him.
With a smile, you took your headphones off and went to greet him, but you immediately frowned when you saw him hold something wrapped up in his hoodie.
“Hey, whatcha got there?” You stood up, approaching him with narrowed eyes as he broke out a smile.
“I’m sorry. I just found it, I just.. I felt bad.” He pulled down his hoodie to reveal a precious little kitten. A black ball of fur coating its little face. Your heart immediately sank and you wanted to cry.
“Oh my god, Eric.” You took the kitten into your hands and your eyes started watering as you hugged it. Eric wasn’t sure what to make of your reaction. Did you hate it? Were you upset?
“No, baby, I’m sorry. I found it outside, it’s kinda cold and it was drinking from a puddle. I didn’t want a car to hit it. We don’t have to keep it if you don’t want to, we can take it to a shelter or something.” He started to mumble, a hand coming to rub the back of his head and his lips fell open when he saw a tear fall down your cheek. He approached you, reaching to grab your face. “Please don’t cry.”
“No… No Eric I’m not..” You sniffled, laughing softly through your tears as you leaned into Eric’s chest while still hugging the now purring black ball of fur. “I’m not upset at all. It’s just… I’ve never had my own pet before. And it’s so cute, can we keep it, please? It’d be our little child.”
The way you looked at him with big pleading eyes made him feel so warm, he never thought he’d feel something like this. He smiled, nodding as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.
“Of course we can keep it. He’s kinda cute, right?” Eric chuckled as he scratched the little one’s head.
“Or she.”
Your little ball of fur wasn’t the only thing you and Eric shared. You got so many matching tattoos it was concerning. Your friends and family had even told you it was odd to get tattoos with a guy you had been dating for only a few months. But it didn’t matter to you. You didn’t know why, but deep down you knew your connection with Eric was out of this world. So what were a couple tattoos? You loved that you had a physical reminder of your connection with him. The feelings deep within your souls were forever marked on your skin, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.
Truth was, Eric loved tracing each and every one of your tattoos. He traced his fingers over the fine lines, traced the words, he traced his lips over them too. He particularly loved the ones on your back and on your stomach, the ones no one but him could see. They were his little secret.
You matched each other perfectly, in every way.
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maxivstappen · 18 hours
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congratulations for 1k, you really deserve It !!
for your event: can i ask for a carlos sainz fic based on "break my heart, and I swear i'm moving on with your favorite athlete" by sabrina carpenter in good graces
thanks xx and ily
౨ৎ YOUR FAVORITE ATHLETE ! ‧₊˚.
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౨ৎ 1K EVENT — short n' sweet series (not posted yet) ౨ৎ
pairing — carlos alcaraz x reader / carlos sainz x reader
summary — break my heart and i swear im moving on with your favorite athlete! angst & sweet revenge (again lol)
warnings / disclaimer �� none, just my not so perfect Spanish (please correct me)! hope you liked this <3 thank you lots for your support and sorry for my absence - school is really time consuming at the moment :( i'll be updating more frequently again soon — masterlist (not updated sry) / prev. work
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12th of January - TWITTER
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4th of February - @.yourusername ✓ just posted on INSTA !
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liked by landonorris, alexandrasaintmleux and 1,723,981 others
yourusername girls just wanna have fun or whatever 😝 love ya @.alexandrasaintmleux
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user1 omg why did she unfollow carlos?
user2 @.user1 she follows carlos wdym
user3 @.user2 no they mean carlos alcaraz the tennis player, y/n‘s boyfriend (if they’re still together). I suppose you’re an f1 fan?
user2 @.user3 yes haha sorry i didn’t know that, and I don’t watch tennis so that’s why i was confused
alexandrasaintmleux ✓ my only love🥹 never ever leave me again!!
-> ♥️ by @.yourusername ✓
charles_leclerc ✓ @.alexandrasaintmleux what do you mean ‚only love‘?? don’t you think you’re missing someone?
alexandrasaintmleux ✓ @.charles_leclerc so sorry, of course i love my baby leo just as much🥰
charles_leclerc ✓ @.alexandrasaintmleux 😔
user4 oh they’re so HOT
user5 @.user4 CARLOS FUMBLED IF WHAT I‘M THINKING IS TRUE
user6 ONE CHANCE Y/N JUST ONE
landonorris ✓you can finally focus on the better sport now 🙌
-> ♥️ by @.yourusername ✓
user7 @.landonorris WHAT DOES THIS MEANNNNN
user8 @.user7 i think carlitos and her broke up 😭
yourusername ✓@.landonorris only saying that cause i keep beating you at tennis
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5th of February - TWITTER
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5th of February - TEXTS
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6th of February - @.yourusername ✓ just posted on INSTA !
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liked by carlitosalcarazz, carlossainz55 and 1,576,971 others
yourusername if i speak i am in trouble 🤭
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landonorris ✓ AHHHHHHH
yourusername ✓ @.landonorris AHHHHHHH
user9 @.landonorris LANDO SPILL
user10 guys alcaraz liked😧
user11 @.user10 HES JELLYYYYYY
alexandrasaintmleux ✓ hope you had the best night ever☺️
yourusername ✓ @.alexandrasaintmleux wasn’t as fun as it would’ve been with you🙂‍↔️
alexandrasaintmleux ✓ @.yourusername let me take you out next time 🤭
carlossainz55 ✓ @.yourusername @.charlesleclerc they’re flirting again😞
charles_leclerc ✓ @.carlossainz55 they will never stop😞
user12 THE LAST PIC
user13 @.user12 MYSTERY GUY SPENT THE NIGHT
user14 @.user13 THATS CARLOS SAINZ
user15 @.user14 i was about to call you delulu but…. i think you’re right
user16 @.user15 guys go get some sleep it’s okay … delulu isn’t always the solulu 😚
user17 HES HOLDING HER SHOES
user18 SOFT LAUNCH BUT WHO TF IS SHE LAUNCHING 🗣️🗣️🗣️🔥🔥🔥
carlossainz55 ✓ ❤️
-> ♥️ by @.yourusername ✓
user19 @.carlossainz55 @.user18 WE KNOW WHO SHES LAUNCHING🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥
user20 @.carlossainz55 OHMYGAWWKDKSKALSKSKS
user21 TENNIS WAG TURNED F1 WAG AND IVE NEVER BEEN HERER FOR IT
user22 @.user21 you’ve never been what?
user23 @.user22 you need to learn matching people’s freak fr😣
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A Couple Weeks Later - TEXTS
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20th of October - @.carlossainz55 ✓ just posted on INSTA !
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liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc and 3,445,912 others
carlossainz55 won the race and got the girl😉 great work from the team (and me)
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yourusername ✓ love you baby
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20th of October - @.yourusername ✓ just posted a story on INSTA !
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hope you liked it <3 guys please correct my spanish PLEASEEEEE (the question marks are weird like that on purpose because i’m a lazy bitch)
gen / sns taglist :: @norrisdriver @1655clean
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rosenclaws · 3 days
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Hi!!! I love your writing so much <3<3
I was wondering if you had any thoughts about taking Leopold's virginity? Because I saw you mention that you think he might be a virgin :))
HI YES I HAVE MANY THOUGHTS!!
This is with an afab!reader who is not a virgin in mind but no pronouns are used.
warnings: MINORS DNI!! oral (m and f receiving), soft sex, leo being a bit of a switch/sub
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Leopold’s first time headcanons
Okay so Leo is a virgin but because he’s a prude or because there isn’t anyone who wants to sleep with him. I mean damn the first scene of the movie is girls basically fawning over him lol. I think he views sexual intimacy as something that needs to be cherished.
It should be something romantic. A true, deep connection between two people who have given their hearts to each other and Leo has never felt that way until you.
When it comes to Leo’s first time I think there's a lot of lead up. Like a nice dinner and a bath together maybeee. Candles, I mean the whole thing.
Its slow and sweet and a little awkward but the kind of awkward that makes the two of you laugh in each others arms.
You 100% suck him off to start. I mean he’s gorgeous, so pretty and handsome that he deserves to get his dick sucked u know what I’m saying.
He doesn’t know what to do with his hands at all. Like he doesn’t know if he should touch you, touch himself. They keep moving. First they’re gripping the sheets, then they’re above his head clenching into fists, and finally you guide his hands to the sides of your head. Winking as you pick up your pace.
He also is a little loud. He tries at first to suppress his noises but he can't help it. His moans are heavenly. So desperate. He whimpers too btw. Like 100% that is a man who whimpers.
He doesn’t last long. Look Leopold is no stranger to. Getting himself off but this is unlike anything he’s ever felt before. So warm and wet and your hands are on his thighs and its a sensory overload that he can’t help but come hard in your mouth.
Even though it's his first time he really really wants to go down on you. He wants to make you feel good so badly. To make you moan because of him.
He's a little hesitant at first, not sure what to do but after some coaxing he dives right in. At first you think he's a dirty fucking liar about never doing this before because holy shit he is filthy without even trying.
Sloppy and wet and needy as hell as he buries his face in your cunt. He listens eagerly to all your instructions. What you like, what you don't like. He plans on studying you until he remembers every little thing that drives you insane.
HE LOVES TO BE CALLED A GOOD BOY!! I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL. He has a praise kink too. Loves to talk about how wonderful you are, how good you taste, how lucky he is. Oh my god call him a good boy and tug on his hair and he's a fucking goner.
"Such a good boy, so pretty."
He loves eating pussy btw. Like he's can't help himself and slowly humps the bed as he feels himself start to get hard again. He could live between your thighs.
Anyways when it comes to actually having sex you ride him for the first time. Wanting to give him nothing but pleasure. He watches with wide eyes as you sink down on his cock. He needs a second to just process it all. His arms wrapped around you, face buried in your chest as he slowly rolls his hips.
It's slow for the first time. You just riding him nice and slow as you whisper sweet things into his ear. He can't stop telling you how much he loves you. How happy he is. He can't get enough of you, especially when you moan his name. (He's def whimpering again)
After a little bit he'd switch positions to be on top. Missionary but he's got one leg hooked on his shoulder. His hips move slow but get harder with every thrust. Your nails dig into his back with every thrust and it turns him on a little more.
He's kissing every bit of skin he can while he's making love. He loves your neck. The whole experience is just overwhelming to him. It's amazing and wonderful but overwhelming. Every one of his senses are being overloaded with you and he can't get enough.
He makes sure you finish before he does of course. Asking you in a desperate tone what you need and how he can do it for you. Begging you to finish because he's going to explode soon.
"Please, please my love. Tell me what to do. Need to feel you."
When he finishes he (reluctantly) comes on your stomach, rolling over onto his back for a minute. He needs to catch his breath, a smile on his face that won't go away. He just feels completely blissed out.
When you try to move he stops you, wanting you to stay comfortable as he goes to get a towel to clean you up. Kissing every inch of you as he does so. Thanking you for this and telling you how much he loves you. He just can't help himself.
He falls asleep pretty quickly after. Holding you close in his arms as the exhaustion takes over.
It's a pretty soft and sweet first time, fueled by love. Leopold is gentle and kind and I think this is the perfect time to for him to show that in a more intimate setting.
Anyways I am obsessed with Leopold he deserves the world okay ty!!!
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lynzishell · 3 days
Text
The Past 🩵 Asher
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Once we’re seated and buckled, Lex turns to me to begin her interrogation before I even have a chance to pull out of the parking garage. “Okay, so, first things first, did you sleep with him?”
I glance over at her, surprised by her question. I figured that was implied considering we left the club together last night and I didn’t come home until this afternoon, but good for her for not making assumptions, I guess. “Yeah, I did,” I say, fighting a losing battle with the smile spreading across my face. 
She smacks me in the arm and gasps, “Really? How was it?”
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This really isn’t the part of the night that I need to talk through, but I allow myself a moment to think about it anyway. I prop my arm up on the door so I can rest my head against my hand. My hair feels clean and soft, and still smells faintly of his shampoo, sparking a memory of running my hands over his body in the shower. The image makes my stomach flutter, and my voice comes out a little dreamy when I speak, “It was amazing.”
“Amazing? Well, I’m going to have follow-up questions.”
“And I won’t be answering any of those questions.”
“Ugh, fine,” she rolls her eyes in mock annoyance, “So, then what happened? How did things go from ‘amazing’ to you sobbing into my shoulder and getting snot all over my jacket?”
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“I don’t know. Like, the whole night was great. It was fun, and he was so sweet, and it really felt like… It wasn't just a hook up, it was more than that. Or at least I thought so. Maybe I was just projecting or seeing what I wanted to see because I… fuck, I’m so embarrassed… whatever, I kinda put myself out there today, really thinking he’d reciprocate, but—”
“He didn’t?”
“No.”
“What did he say?”
“Same thing he always says. He doesn’t want to date me because we work together. He just wants to be friends. I don’t know, maybe I’m the asshole. How many times does he have to tell me he just wants to be friends? And I’m over here like, ‘are you sure? how ‘bout now?’ What the fuck is wrong with me? I need to stop.”
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“Babe, c’mon, I think you’re being too hard on yourself. I know you. You wouldn’t do that if you didn’t really believe he felt the same way. And I’ve seen the way he looks at you, you’re not imagining it. Sounds to me like he’s saying one thing but acting another and he’s fucking with your head and that’s not okay. If he truly wants to be your friend, then he needs to act like a friend, and he’s not. If you ask me, he’s the asshole, and you deserve a hell of a lot better.”
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“I hear you; I do. He’s not an asshole, though. He’s really not. I think maybe it’s more complicated than that. Like, he was so kind, and affectionate… I really felt like he cared. And then today, he just looked so sad when I was leaving. You know how he does sometimes. But I’ve never seen him more down than he looked today, and my heart just, I don’t know, I just want to take that sadness away. I feel like I could make him happy if he’d let me.”
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“Careful, Ash. Don’t do that. Don’t fall into that trap of thinking you can rescue him or fix him or something. That’s some toxic co-dependent shit. Pretty sure you get enough of that with your sister.”
“Ow.” Leave it to Lex to stab you in the heart with her honesty. I respect it, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less. 
“Did you or did you not drop everything to rush out to the Bay to help her the second she asked?”
“Yes, but—”
“Are your parents home?”
“Yes.”
“So, in theory, they could help her with her baby furniture or whatever today?”
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I let her words sink in. I’ve gotten better at setting boundaries with Iris, but apparently, I still have some work to do. It didn’t even feel like an option to say no to her today, but now that seems ridiculous. Now, I wish I hadn’t rushed out on Atlas. Maybe we could’ve had a nice day together. Maybe I wouldn’t have made a fool of myself if I wasn’t so frazzled and trying to make everyone happy all at once. Damn. “I hate it when you’re right.”
“I know.”
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“I don’t think I’m doing that with Atlas though. Like, sure, I want to make him happy when he’s sad, and maybe I overestimate my ability to do so, but I’ve never felt a need to ‘save’ him or whatever. It’s not like that. I just… I like him so much, Lex. I really do. I love spending time with him. And I love the way he makes me feel when we’re together. I could’ve sworn he felt the same way. I mean, just the way he…” my voice trails off as I remember all the ways he looked at me and smiled at me and kissed me and touched me, and then his words “Ash, you’re perfect, you know that?”, and the tenderness in his voice and in his eyes when he said it. The sweet way he kissed my forehead in the bathroom. The way he held me as we slept.
“The way he what? Hello? Where did you go?”
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“You know what? I’m not fucking crazy. I’m not. I know he feels it too. So, maybe he really is just super weird about dating people he works with. I mean, on paper it seems logical, right? To not mix your professional life with your romantic one?”
“I don’t know. I guess? What are you getting at?”
“Well, it’s an easy enough obstacle to remove, don’t you think?”
“You’re gonna quit your job over a guy you’ve only known a few months?”
“Why not? It’s better than giving up on a great guy over some job I've only had a few months. I’m not just gonna quit though, don’t worry. I’ll get something else lined up first. But I have a decent portfolio. I don’t think it’ll be that hard.”
“Okay. Well, what if it doesn’t work? What if he’s full of shit, making excuses? What if you leave for him and he still just wants to be friends.”
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“Honestly, at this point, if there’s any chance of me being his friend, I think I’ll need some distance for a while to get over him. And also, if I call his bluff and tell him I’m going to quit, and he still doesn’t want to be with me, then hopefully he’ll at least have the decency to tell me the real reason why. Otherwise, maybe I shouldn’t even try being his friend. Maybe, in that case, I’d have to face that he’s not who I thought he was and move on. But I won’t be able to do that unless I know for sure. So yeah, the more I think about it, this seems like the obvious solution regardless of the outcome.”
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She pouts at me, clearly not happy, but she doesn’t have an argument against it, so she concedes, “I hate it when you’re right.”
“I know.” I reach over and hold her hand, giving it a little squeeze. “Sorry about your jacket.”
She smiles at that, “It’s okay. Do you feel better at least?”
“Yeah, I do.”
“Worth it then.”
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Prev // Next
AN: Thank you so so much @madebycoffee for creating the perfect poses for this scene!!! This was my very first car scene and I was so nervous about it, but I love how it turned out and I couldn't have done it without you!! 🥹🩵🧡
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fleming-o · 12 hours
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Behind the spotlight - Niamh Charles x Reader
request here
Award show nerves aren’t always the best
angst with comfort
---
The soft hum of the city buzzed just outside the window as you fidgeted with your cufflinks, trying to push down the tension building in the room. Niamh stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the strap of her dress for what had to be the tenth time. Her brow was creased, lips pressed into a thin line, and her usually bright eyes were clouded with something heavier tonight.
"You look stunning, you know?" you said, stepping closer, hands hovering just inches from Niamh’s waist. You didn’t want to touch her yet—not when the air between you felt so fragile.
Niamh’s lips twitched, but the smile didn’t reach her eyes. "Thanks."
The flatness of her voice cut through your chest, but you kept quiet, knowing better than to push. Niamh wasn’t usually one to show her insecurities. She was a fighter on and off the pitch, and tonight was supposed to be a celebration of that. But the way she kept glancing at her reflection, adjusting her dress, her earrings, her hair, told a different story.
After a moment of silence, you finally stepped forward, resting a hand gently on Niamh’s back. "You okay?"
Niamh’s shoulders stiffened under your touch, and you instantly regretted asking. "Yeah, I’m fine," she said quickly, too quickly.
"Are you sure?" you pressed gently, not trying to pry but unable to shake the worry.
Niamh sighed, her fingers stilling at her side. She met your eyes in the mirror, her expression hard to read. "I just... I don’t know why I’m even going tonight. It’s not like I’ve had a standout season or anything."
You blinked, taken aback. "What are you talking about? You’ve been incredible this season."
Niamh scoffed, turning away from the mirror and folding her arms across her chest. "Incredible? I barely played for half the season because of my shoulder injury, and when I did, I was hardly at my best. I don’t even know why they invited me."
Your heart ached hearing her speak like that. You stepped in front of her, gently grabbing her hands. "Niamh, you’re being too hard on yourself. You pushed through, you came back stronger, and everyone’s noticed. You deserve to be there as much as anyone else."
Niamh pulled her hands back, looking away. "I don’t feel like I do. It just feels... fake, like I’m playing a part tonight or something. All those cameras, the smiles, the awards. It’s all for people who’ve done so much more this season. Not me."
You felt frustration rising in your chest, not at her but at the situation, at how much she was doubting herself. "You’re not playing a part," you said softly. "You’ve earned this. And it’s okay to feel nervous or unsure, but you can’t let that take away from everything you’ve accomplished."
Niamh shook her head, a humorless laugh escaping her. "You don’t get it. I don’t feel like I’ve accomplished anything. I feel like I’m just... there, you know? Filling a spot."
The room went silent, tension thick between you. You knew how much the injury had weighed on Niamh, how hard she’d worked to get back to full fitness, but hearing her like this, so vulnerable, was new. Niamh always hid it so well.
"You’re more than just a spot-filler, Niamh. You’ve fought through so much this season. That means something."
Niamh’s eyes flickered with doubt, maybe frustration, but she stayed quiet, her gaze fixed on the floor, her thoughts clearly heavy.
After a beat of silence, you sighed and stepped back. "Look, I know tonight feels big and overwhelming, but you don’t have to go if you really don’t want to. We can stay home, watch a movie, whatever you need."
Niamh’s head shot up, surprise flickering across her face. "No, I—" She hesitated, her voice softening. "I want to go. I just... I don’t know how to be okay with it."
Your heart squeezed. You stepped forward again, brushing a thumb over her cheek. "Then let me help you. We’ll get through tonight together, okay?"
Niamh’s shoulders sagged slightly, her walls crumbling just a little. She nodded, a small, grateful smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Okay."
---
The awards night was every bit as glamorous and overwhelming as Niamh had expected. Lights flashed from all directions as you walked into the venue, cameras capturing every smile, every step. Niamh’s hand was tight in yours, her fingers cold and stiff. You could feel her pulse racing beneath her skin.
"You’re doing great," you whispered, giving her hand a gentle squeeze as you made your way through the crowd, trying to ease some of the tension radiating off her.
She gave a small nod, but her grip on your hand only tightened.
The night passed in a blur of speeches, applause, and polished smiles. Niamh sat rigidly at your table, her eyes darting around the room, never settling for long. Every time the camera panned across the audience, she straightened up, forcing a smile you could tell wasn’t real. You squeezed her hand under the table, hoping to remind her that you were there, that she wasn’t alone in this.
When Niamh’s name was finally called for an award, you saw the flicker of panic flash across her face. She stood slowly, hesitating just long enough for the applause to feel awkward before making her way to the stage.
You watched her closely as she accepted the award, the way she held it in her hands like it didn’t belong to her, the way her voice wavered just slightly as she gave a brief thank-you speech. Niamh was always a fighter, but tonight, she looked like she was fighting against herself.
When she returned to the table, her smile was brittle, her eyes distant. You leaned in, whispering softly, "I’m so proud of you."
Niamh’s jaw clenched, her fingers trembling slightly as she placed the award on the table. "I don’t deserve this."
Your heart sank. "Yes, you do. You worked so hard to get back here. You deserve every bit of this recognition."
Niamh shook her head, her voice barely above a whisper. "It doesn’t feel like it. I feel like a fraud."
You wanted to argue, to tell her again how wrong she was, but you could see how fragile she was in that moment. Instead, you placed a hand gently on her thigh, grounding her. "You’re not a fraud, Niamh. You’re one of the strongest people I know. And even if you can’t see that right now, I do. I believe in you."
Niamh’s eyes filled with unshed tears, and for a moment, the mask she’d been wearing all night crumbled. She leaned into your touch, her body sagging with the weight of everything she’d been carrying.
"I don’t know how to feel better about this," she admitted quietly, her voice trembling. "I feel so... lost."
Your heart broke for her, but you stayed steady, knowing she needed you to be her anchor. "You don’t have to figure it all out right now. Just take it one step at a time, okay? You’re not alone in this."
Niamh nodded, her grip on your hand tightening again, this time not out of anxiety but out of gratitude. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice raw. "For everything."
You smiled softly, pressing a kiss to her temple. "Always."
---
Later, after the lights had dimmed and the applause had faded, you found yourselves back in your apartment. Niamh sat on the edge of the bed, the award resting on the nightstand, her gaze distant.
"You were amazing tonight," you said gently, sitting beside her. "I hope you know that."
Niamh didn’t respond right away. She stared at the award, her expression conflicted, before finally speaking. "I’m trying to believe it."
You wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close. "You will. And until then, I’ll remind you every day."
Niamh rested her head on your shoulder, her body finally relaxing into your embrace. "I love you," she whispered, her voice soft but steady.
You pressed a kiss to her hair, your heart full. "I love you too."
And in that quiet moment, with the weight of the night behind you and the warmth of your love surrounding her, Niamh allowed herself to believe—if only just a little—that maybe, just maybe, she really did deserve it all
---
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105. “You can’t make up for it by giving me a tic-tac.” This feels soo Jack Hughes coded.
oooo I couldn't agree more nonnie. very Jack Hughes coded. I love this prompt but I kind of hate how this turned out so I might rewrite this.
Drabble Masterlist.
"You can't make up for it by giving me a tic-tac."
It really wasn't that big of a deal but it still pissed you off. This was the second time you had plans with Jack and he forgot. The plans weren't a big deal, it's not like he forgot a date, your birthday, an anniversary. Tonight's plans were to come home after work and change into sweats and do absolutely nothing except watch more Vampire Dairies Jack's new obsession. But instead after a day of media and camp, he went out with the boys. It really wasn't that big of a deal but it still sucked that Jack forgot and that it was the second time it happened. Not in the mood to watch the Vampire Diaries anymore without him, you laid on the coach and watched one of your comfort films. A film that you always watched when you were upset because it always made you laugh.
Jack walked into the apartment yelling he was home. He dropped his gear where it goes, and took his sneakers off by the door. He walked into the family room kissing your forehead like nothing was wrong. But then he froze, he noticed what movie was on and immidately he was concerned. "hey baby. you okay?" he asks shyly as he moves your feet so he can sit on the coach next to you.
"yup" letting the 'p' pop as you continue to look forward refusing to even look in Jack's direction still. He starts to move his hands up and down your calves thinking he's bringing you comfort and in a way it is but you wanted to stay mad at him.
"what happened baby? You only watch this movie when your sad or pissed off cause it helps shut your mind off." His voice soft, he sounds like he has no idea that he was the reason you were watching this movie.
Finally turning to face him in an annoyed tone you ask, "do you know what today was?"
"uhh n-no." he stumbles out, his hands suddenly freezing on your legs.
"We had plans for the second time this week to binge Vampire Diaries and you forgot." Sighing at the end of your confession hating how you sounded.
"Y/N fuck I'm sorry. I forgot do you wanna watch it now?" he asks going to grab the remote from your lap.
"No."
"okay." he says softly and you can see an idea pop into his head as smiles wide at you reaching into his pocket. "Do you want a tic tac?" he asks showing you a brand new pack in his head.
All you can do is laugh because only Jack Hughes would try to fix this by giving you a tic tac. "You can't fix make-up for it by giving me a tic tac. Jack" A soft smile on your lips as Jack pulls you close to him for the first time since he sat down so your half on his lap.
"but there your favorite. And you asked me to pick you some up before I came home and I remembered." he pouts and all you can do is smile.
Taking your finger you lightly trace his bottom lip, "Thank you for remembering my tic tacs baby." you whisper before you can't resist anymore you peck Jack on his lips.
"I'm sorry about forgetting" he apologizes as soon as your lips leave his.
"I know. It's not a big deal. I just spent the entire summer with you, you deserve time with your teammates. I kind of overreacted, it's not like you didn't text me you were gonna go out. I'm sorry." you apologize too because it was a dumb reason to get mad.
"I still feel like shit for apologizing." he mumbles as he pulls you into a kiss.
"Well we can always feel like shit together and watch another movie." you suggest and although another movie is started on the t.v neither of you are paying attention too lost in each other to care what was on.
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coffeeshades · 16 hours
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credits to the gif maker!
LOVE IS COMPLICATED - PART IX
summary: the trials and tribulations of falling in love or two idiots who can't get their shit together.
pairing: pedro pascal x actress/singer!reader.
word count: 2.9k
warnings: 18+ (minors dni). fluff. angst. cursing, age gap, mentions of alcohol and depression. feelings of hopelessness, anxiety. no use of y/n, if i missed something please let me know!
a/n: here it goes. happy reading <3
masterlist!
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January 26, 2023
Los Angeles, California
The ceiling isn’t even interesting, but it’s better than everything else right now. You’ve spent too many nights staring at the same spot above you, trying not to think, trying not to feel, but the thoughts always come creeping back. Anxiety’s a funny thing—how it picks and chooses moments to make your life its playground, especially when there’s nothing left to distract you.
You think about your depression diagnosis from a year ago. It feels like a dirty word, one that sticks to the inside of your throat whenever you try to talk about it.
Shame has a way of making you feel unworthy, like there’s a crack inside you that everyone can see. And Pedro…well, he was part of that too. Not because he’d judge you; no, you know he wouldn’t. That’s what makes it worse. He’d understand, and you know it. But it was that very understanding, that softness, that made you feel even less deserving of him. It was easier to push him away, tell yourself that he was better off without you, without your darkness looming overhead.
It was stupid. You knew it was stupid. But knowing didn’t make it any easier. For a long time, you felt like shit. The medication and therapy helped, though. You feel better now, mostly. At least enough to move through the days without the weight of the world pressing down on your chest.
On nights like this, when the city outside your window hums with life, you find yourself longing for him. Wanting him with a kind of ache that doesn’t make sense anymore. Not after a year of silence.
Okay, not complete silence.
There were the text messages, the likes, the little online interactions that served as placeholders for the real thing. But the last time you actually heard his voice was on your birthday. He called, and it was brief. Polite. He sounded tired, maybe distant. You’d called him on his birthday, too, but he didn’t pick up. A few hours later, a text: “Sorry! Really busy over here, even on my birthday. Thanks for the birthday wishes. See you soon.”
Except “See you soon” never came. It was nothing more than etiquette.
Sarah came over a few weeks later. You were sitting on your couch, mindlessly flipping through a book, when she dropped the news. “They broke up,” she’d said, leaning against the counter like it wasn’t a bomb that just exploded in your chest. “Pedro and Julia. Months ago.”
Why didn’t he tell me?
That conversation replayed in your head for days. Maybe he hadn’t told you because you weren’t that person for him anymore. The one he turned to when things went wrong. Life just went on without him in it. The strange became familiar, and here you were, on a Saturday night, staring at nothing.
You push off the sofa, grab your phone from the coffee table, and start scrolling through social media. It’s the only thing that takes the edge off, numbing the ache for a little while. But even that was a trap because almost every post you see is about him.
Pedro was everywhere, and you couldn’t escape him.
The world had caught on to how wonderful he was, and now they all wanted a piece of him. The headlines, the photos, the fan posts—everyone seemed to wonder what it would be like to love him, to touch him. The universe was taunting you with his presence, a constant reminder of what you’d had and what you’d lost. Every time you saw his face, you felt a pang of regret, sharp and unforgiving.
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February 4, 2023
New York, NY
The invitation had come a week earlier, but not from him. His sister, Lux, had sent the text. “It would be nice if you came,” she’d written, and your heart had swelled in your chest.
“I’ll try,” you’d replied, though you knew as soon as you sent it that you would go. The next thing you knew, you were on a plane to New York, staring out the window, wondering what you were doing. You hadn’t seen him in person in over a year, and you didn’t even know if he wanted to see you. What if time had passed you by? What if everything between you had faded into the background, nothing more than a memory?
The night of the show arrived, and you were a wreck. A bundle of nerves, second-guessing everything. You sat in the audience, people asking for pictures here and there, and you smiled, happily obliging. But when Pedro took the stage, your heart stopped. He was nervous during the monologue, you could tell, but he quickly settled into the rhythm.
His breathing evened out, and he was so…perfect. He talked about his family, about his mother, and you felt the lump in your throat rise when he got emotional. He was always funny in the sketches, but especially when he almost broke character to laugh. You couldn’t stop watching him.
And you hoped—no, you prayed—that maybe he’d see you through the crowd.
When the show ended, people started to disperse, and there he was, surrounded by his family, by friends, all buzzing with pride and excitement. You hung back, watching as Lux tried to get everyone lined up for a photo. “Who’s gonna take it?” someone asked, and you stepped forward before you could think twice.
“I can do it,” you said, and Lux’s eyes widened in surprise.
“Oh my god, you came!” She rushed over, wrapping her arms around you, and you hugged her back, feeling a sudden warmth in your chest.
Nico and Pedro’s nephews followed, pulling you into their hugs as well. For a moment, it felt like old times, like maybe things hadn’t changed at all. But then Pedro turned, his gaze catching yours, and time stopped.
You stood there, staring at each other, and the world spun and stilled all at once. His eyes lit up, soft and warm, like they always had. He looked like he wanted to say something, but neither of you moved.
Five seconds. Maybe less. But it felt like forever.
You smiled, and so did he, a quiet acknowledgment passing between you. Lux handed you her phone, and you took the picture, watching them all gather together, laughing and chatting. You could feel Pedro’s eyes on you the whole time.
After the photo, he walked over, his eyes locking onto yours again.
“How…what are you…?”
“Your sister invited me,” you replied quickly.
“Of course she did,” he said, glancing back at Lux with a smile.
“Congratulations, you were incredible,” you said, the words tumbling out faster than you intended. “I’m so happy for you.”
He looked at you like you were the most precious thing in the world, like you were the moon and the stars. Your heart raced, and you could feel it thumping against your ribs. He smiled, a half-smile, and his voice softened. “Thank you. I think I butchered a couple of lines, but…"
“No, no,” you insisted, shaking your head. “You were perfect. It was perfect.”
He looked like he wanted to say more, his eyes doing that thing they always did when he was holding something back. But then he cleared his throat, looking flustered. “I have to go get changed and say goodbye to a few people, but come to the afterparty, okay? Oscar and Sarah will be there.”
As if you needed a reason other than him.
“Yeah, of course,” you said, trying to sound casual.
He took a step closer, his big brown eyes fixed on you. “Thank you for being here.”
You smiled, trying to keep your composure. “Always.”
And then he turned and disappeared backstage.
•••
Later, at the afterparty, you felt like a ghost, drifting between conversations. You caught up with Oscar and Sarah, the comfort of their hugs bringing unexpected tears to your eyes. It felt good, to be surrounded by people who loved you unconditionally. But you couldn’t help yourself; you kept looking for Pedro. From across the room, your eyes would meet, and the significance of everything unsaid hung between you.
Twenty minutes passed like that. Stolen glances, quiet tension. Until you saw him slip outside to the rooftop, away from the crowd.
Without thinking, you followed him.
He stood there, looking out over the city, his broad back to you, the skyline of New York glowing in the distance. For a moment, you thought about turning around, about going back inside. But then you stepped forward, standing beside him.
“This city,” you started, “is so beautiful from up here. Makes you forget about all the bad things—like the rats and the traffic.”
He laughed—that booming, wheezing kind of laugh you loved so much—and you smiled.
Pedro smiled at you—that same familiar smile that hadn’t changed in all these years. His eyebrows lifted playfully, and for a moment, it felt like no time had passed at all. But as you looked closer, you saw it—he had changed, and yet the essence of him remained.
His hair was longer now, curling just at the ends in a way that made you want to reach out and touch it. His beard, fuller than before, had streaks of gray decorating his jawline and his hair. The lines around his eyes had deepened, like stories waiting to be told, crinkling when he smiled, as if life had both weathered and softened him.
He turned to look at you. “Hi again.”
“Hi."
“You look good,” he said, the compliment slipping from his lips with ease.
You chuckled softly. “Thanks, so do you, Mr. Popular.”
He clicked his tongue, amused. “What can I say?”
The rooftop was hushed, only the chatter and music from the party drifting up from where you stood. The world below a distant hum, leaving just the two of you bathed in the soft glow of green and gold light from the city. The air was cool but not cold, wrapping around you both in a way that felt intimate, protective.
How Deep Is Your Love started playing, and you looked towards the party, a small smile playing on your lips. As if he could read your mind, he chuckled and said, "How fitting. What are the odds?"
For the first time in what felt like forever, you were under Pedro’s gaze—not the chaotic, feverish attention you were used to, with cameras flashing and crowds screaming your name, but something deeper. His attention had always been different. It was quiet, but focused, like a steady hand on your shoulder, grounding you without a word.
For a moment, you couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe. The pull between you too strong, a tether stretched thin by years of disconnect but never broken. You felt it—the weight of all that had gone unsaid pressing against your chest. You had to say it. Now, before you lost the courage.
“I was debating whether or not to do this here,” you began, your voice low but steady, “today of all days, but I feel like the right time will never come for us, so I’ll just say it.”
Pedro’s eyes searched yours with anticipation, perhaps fear or hope, watching you with that unwavering focus that made your heart race.
In that moment, you realized, you didn't know where to start.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, the words catching in your throat. “I disappeared like that, and I know I hurt you. I was... I was dealing with so much, and I wanted to tell you, but I couldn’t move. Some days were harder than others, and I felt so ashamed. So lost. So sad.”
The word sad hung between you, fragile yet heavy. You could see it in his face—how your words cut him deeply. His lips parted, and you saw the pain flicker in his eyes, the understanding that only he could offer.
“Baby,” he said, the word tender, rich with affection. He took a step closer, his presence overwhelming yet calming all at once. His hand moved to your hair, fingers brushing it aside before resting gently on the side of your head. The touch was so familiar, so comforting, you closed your eyes for a moment, letting the warmth of it wash over you.
“No,” Pedro said softly, his voice breaking just a little. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for not doing more. For not being there when you needed me. I’m a fucking coward.”
You opened your eyes, meeting his gaze. “I pushed you away because I thought… I thought you were happy with her.” Your voice cracked, but you pushed through the pain. “And before that, I pushed you away because I thought you just didn't want me. I figured it was better to let you be.”
He let out a breath, stepping even closer, his forehead nearly touching yours. “I got with her because I couldn’t escape you,” he confessed, the words raw and full of regret. “You were always there, in my head, in my heart. I thought if I could be with someone else, maybe… maybe I’d forget you, but I couldn’t.”
You felt the tears sting at the back of your eyes. The truth of it, the weight of his words, felt like a key turning in a lock that had long been rusted shut. You wanted to say more, to tell him everything, but before you could, Pedro’s hand slipped to your cheek, his thumb brushing the corner of your mouth.
“I was afraid that you'd be the only person I ever actually wanted. And now I'm afraid that my one and only chance at happiness has passed me by.” He whispered, his voice low and intense. “And I…I think about kissing you more than I think about anything else, literally in the world. It’s my go-to thought when my mind has a minute to spare.”
You could barely breathe. The air between you felt charged, electrified by everything he was admitting, by the love you had both buried for so long. “I was so scared,” he continued, his eyes glistening. “So scared of fucking up our friendship, scared of what people might say, and scared of losing you because… I’ve never known what to do with pain, mi amor. All I’ve ever done is hide from it. But I don’t want to do that anymore.”
You reached up, covering his hand with yours.
He closed his eyes for a moment, as if your touch was too much, too overwhelming. Then, slowly, he opened them again, his gaze locking onto yours with such intensity it made your heart ache. “I was such an idiot,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “I thought I could live without you, but the truth is, I’ve never been able to. Not for a single day.”
You smiled, your own tears finally spilling over. “Well, that makes two of us.”
"You're my favorite person to talk to," he said, "even when we're fighting."
There was a beat, a single breath in which the world seemed to pause, and then he kissed you. It wasn’t a tentative kiss, shy, or unsure—it was everything. Every moment, every longing look, every stolen glance over the years poured into this one, perfect moment. His lips were soft but demanding, his hands slipping into your hair as he pulled you closer. You knew people could be watching from afar, but you melted into him, because nothing else mattered right now.
When you finally pulled back, foreheads pressed together, both of you gasping for air like you'd been drowning and only just found the surface. His forehead rested against yours, his breath shaky, and in that moment, you saw it all—the vulnerability, the fear, the anger, and beneath it all, the raw, unrelenting love.
Pedro’s voice was thick with emotion as he spoke, “I hate myself for waiting this long.” His hands slid down to your shoulders, gripping them with a desperation that made your heart twist. “I watched you disappear, and I told myself it wasn’t my place. But it was. It always was.”
His eyes bore into yours, deep pools of brown that always saw you, even when you didn’t want to be seen. His hands turned and pushed you slowly to the railing, and you could feel the cold biting into your back even through the thick layers of your jacket.
“I hated myself too,” you admitted, the words spilling out in a rush, messy and imperfect, but true. “I thought about you every day. And I hated myself for it because I couldn’t let go. I tried, God. I tried with everything I had to move on, but it was always you. It was always you, Pedro.”
His lips trembled, and you saw the tears in his eyes—the same tears that were stinging yours. He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head.
“We wasted so much time.”
You nodded, your own heart breaking at the realization. All the years you had spent avoiding each other, convincing yourselves it was for the best, when deep down, you knew the truth.
You had been running—both of you—from something that had always been there.
“I know,” you said softly, reaching up to cup his face, your thumb brushing against the scruff on his jaw. “But we’re here now. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere."
He nodded, a slow, deliberate movement. “I love you,” he said, the words a soft confession.
You smiled, face wet with tears, your heart finally free of the burden it had carried for so long.
“I know."
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a/n: aaaahh finally!!! these idiots got it right it only took like 20 years lol.
an extra final chapter is coming very soon. i had so much fun writing this. i started writing this silly little fic right after a breakup because i was feeling lonely and it was the best way for me to not feel like that sooo i wanted to thank everyone who read, liked, reblogged or commented, it means the world to me that someone else enjoys something that takes so much of my time. love you all so much!!!
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lexithwrites · 22 hours
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some headcanons for the ladies of the fandom, and no this isn't gonna follow canon, they're all a little gay at the least, so cry about it x
dorlene,,my loves, i feel like they met at a gig honestly, marlene is very tomboy/grunge and loves going by herself to bars and pubs where some local band is playing and she's a bit awkward on her own but once she has a drink and sees a pretty girl she's a lot more chill and confident
then she meets dorcas and she's fucked, so so fucked
dorcas is my goth queen, long black dress, buckled harness across her chest, sharp black nails, dark makeup and so much jewellery and marlene cant stop staring at her
she didnt think she liked goth chicks that much but FUCK this woman is a goddess, and shes tall,,,marlene is a sucker for taller women
shes so nervous trying to chat her up because dorcas' voice is like velvet, its so soothing and melodic and marlene thinks she might orgasm just from talking to her, and dorcas TOUCHES when she talks to you she's touching her arm and running a hand down her back and telling marlene she looks hot and marlene is so red
but they do exchange numbers and talk for days before marlene finally has the guts to ask her out and dorcas takes her to this restaurant and honestly they spend the entire night together walking around and talking and they go to marlene's and do makeout but nothing further, dorcas is also my demi queen and marlene is probably shaking with nerves lmao
also i feel like when marlene introduces her to the group they're all starstruck by dorcas too, dorcas is like the hottest woman they've all seen and dont know how marlene's nerdy ass pulled her but are so proud and happy
plus dorcas is the sweetest most gentle woman, she's so caring and attentive and pays so much attention to what someones saying to her, she remembers everything
also her and lily? besties, they're both into the same shows and they're both book lovers and talk for ages about fanfiction hehe
speaking of, my girl lily, she's basically walked out of the 70's and i love her for it
all flares and tie dye shirts, long, bright red hair and crazy bright makeup, her favourite colour is yellow and she loves flowers and summer and UGH okay
she loves 70's rock too, i feel like she kinda hides it a little but her and sirius bond over it very quickly
her entire apartment is very boho and there's lots of incense and candles and yes, shes a stoner, shes cool
very bisexual but basically only wants to date women as her experience with men (past a fling with james when they were teenagers) has been bad so she goes on a lot of dates with women to try something new and they didnt really work out past a few dates but she's hopeful
then one night she's getting drunk and a lil high with mary and she realises how pretty mary is, how soft her skin is, how fluffy her hair looks and suddenly they're really close and woah her lips are so plump and taste like strawberry wtf
i feel like her and mary hooked up once and got so nervous that they ruined their friendship that they didnt talk for a week until remus begged them too because he hates his two closest friends not speaking
when they do talk mary tells lily that she's had the biggest crush on her for so long but she didnt know how to say anything because lily had dated other people in that time and lily just feels her heart sore because oh,,,oh
mary is the sweetest girl, okay, she's precious and honestly its because of trauma and just her resilience to it thats kept her so loving and sweet, she deserves a fiery girlfriend like lily
mary has a big family and i'll stand by that, she has like four brothers and three sisters and she's the third eldest so she's taken care of them a lot too
she loves taking lily to her families home and introducing them to her girlfriend and honestly? they adore lily
she's cool and feisty and funny and she clearly makes mary very happy, but her older sisters do have a protective talk with her but they love her, they know she wouldn't hurt her
i feel like mary is a theatre girl too, she loves acting and directing and learning about sound and costume design, she's defo in the universty theatre department and lily is always coming in with a coffee and some lunch incase she forgets to eat, plus it makes mary blush when lily comes in because everyone stares at her
also in the theatre department is none other than xenophilius, a shy, whimsy guy who is dating probably the scariest yet coolest woman ever, miss pandora rosier
her and her brother were always into acting growing up and loved being in plays together, so they're defo in the department too
i feel like pandora loves making costumes and does the makeup for shows she isn't in and evan is a big sound design guy, so they're always backstage together as well as onstage
pandora is whismy goth, her and dorcas bonded over that when they first met in freshers, and she always smells of flowers and cigarettes from her brother
she also wears the TALLEST shoes ever because she's short, i love short panda
and xeno is the tallest lankiest mother fucker okay he's like barty height and so skinny, and he has a shock of white hair and heterochromia eyes and fiddles with his fingers a lot and pandora thinks he's adorable
they talk about true crime together and she reads his palm a lot and he does her tarot reading and its a beautiful, soft, loving relationship
but i feel like they're also a lil freaky,,,maybe some knife play here and there who knows, pandora is a wild card
her and dorcas became friends with the other girls through marlene and after that they're all insperable
they go shopping, smoke weed, hang out in the rosier's pool during the summer, its great
and marlene is the only driver so she takes them to the beach and down to brighton for the weekend so they can go to the gay bars together, its just great
i love my ladies, i hope this meal was filling
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believe-in-alderaan · 10 months
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Cal & Merrin on Koboh
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zhenja483 · 1 month
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Okay, I just finished watching TUA season 4 and WHAT THE ACTUAL HELL WAS THAT????
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*sorry spoilers in the tags- I just need to get this out of my chest rn.
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pyonzzz · 2 years
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nagimayo...thinking about themmm
im taking this as an opportunity to write a short drabble scenario thats been stuck in my head for weeks
"n-nagisa-san, i'm here with..."
mayoi trails off as it enters the dorm room, surprised to find it empty of anyone besides the silver haired idol sitting on his bed. a collection of rocks, ranging from small stones to geodes the size of a small pumpkin, surround him, and he sits silently polishing them one by one.
the phantom had gotten close to nagisa during noir neige's short run, and short visits between the two were common. mostly in small, secret areas mayoi would show the other, but nagisa had been helping it adjust to more open spaces like the café and a park in the city. this would be mayoi's first time inside nagisa's dorm (as far as the other knew; he didn't need to know how many times mayoi had lurked in the vents while the others were here).
it takes nagisa a moment to process the sound of the phantom's voice before he looks up with that kind smile of his. mayoi feels its heart catch in its throat as the silver haired idol set the stone and cloth in his hands down in his lap.
"... you came, ayase-kun."
mayoi's face flushes and it turns its head away. "you were th-the one who texted me to come o-over..."
"... i did."
an awkward silence settles between them before nagisa leans to the floor, picking up a box full of padding. he sets a few of the rocks to his right into the fluff, puts the box back down, and clears his throat to get mayoi's attention. once those nervous teal eyes set onto him, he pats the now empty space beside him. mayoi tenses for a moment. it looks around the room and behind itself into the hallway first, then slowly enters the room, as if expecting something to pop out at any second.
"... i asked everyone to let me have a few hours to myself." nagisa says, making the phantom jump at the sudden noise. "... i wanted you to be more comfortable, and i've noticed you don't like lots of people to be around."
the phantom's face scrunches as if it's holding back tears. "y-you pay that much attention to something like me?"
in response, nagisa tilts his head, similarly to a confused puppy. he looks across the room while he thinks for a moment, then back to mayoi as he pats his bed again. "... it seemed like something very obvious to me, but yes. i pay attention to you, ayase-kun."
mayoi whimpers under its breath. cautiously, it crosses the room to nagisa's bed, sitting near the edge. the silver haired idol stares at it and pats directly next to his side. mayoi flinches before sliding a few inches closer. this repeats until their thighs are nearly touching, but nagisa's soft expression tells mayoi that it doesn't need to worry.
nagisa picks up the geode in his lap and offers it to the phantom. shaky teal flicks from the rock to the idol, and with a thick swallow, mayoi accepts the rock. it's lighter than it expected, but still with enough weight to throw it off a moment. nagisa begins to tell mayoi about the stone and the sparkling quartz inside of it, and mayoi catches on every word.
they sit like this for a while, with nagisa showing off his collection to the phantom, until mayoi lets out another quiet whimper. nagisa immediately stops talking mid sentence and his red eyes search over mayoi's form.
"... is something the matter, ayase-kun?"
"n-no! no... i just..." mayoi hands the stone chuck in it's hands back to nagisa, who puts it away silently. "i don't know why y-you want to waste your time telling me of all things a-about something you love so much... s-surely you ha—"
"it's not a waste of time."
nagisa speaking so suddenly causes mayoi to yelp, and it looks up just as the older idol gently takes its hair into his hand, running his fingers through the silky strands.
"... ayase-kun is someone i've grown quite fond of. you're not a 'thing' to me. hiyori-kun said if i like someone, i should show them something i like."
the phantom's gaze goes nervously from nagisa to his box of treasured stones on the floor, unaware of how nagisa leans closer to it until it feels something soft against its forehead.
a... kiss. a kiss.
mayoi scrambles back to the edge of the bed as its face flushes a dark red, hands flying up to the spot it felt the pressure. nagisa stares curiously.
"... hiyori-kun does that to me often. i think it was comforting, so i wanted to try it with you."
"please a-ask before doing such things, n-nagisa-san—!"
"... of course. may i kiss your head again, ayase-kun?"
mayoi's eyes are wet with unshed tears. "wh-why would you want to do that..?"
nagisa crawls across the bed to sit next to mayoi against, gently taking its hands into his own. they're large and warm compared to the phantom's. he holds them both between his palms and stares at them for a while before looking mayoi in the eye.
"... i already told you, ayase-kun. i like you."
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criminalamnesia · 7 months
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that 141 x reader you just did was so good! i need to know what happens next. like after reader is better, do they stay in the military? stay in 141? or do they take a discharge? I’m not the original ask but it was just so good.
love your writing btw!
thank you! here’s part two :)
ALL PARTS CAN BE FOUND HERE
you were beginning to hate the infirmary.
the white walls. the moans of pain. the smell of bleach and blood.
the reminder of why you were here. of who put you here.
your friends. your family. your team. john. johnny. kyle. simon.
you’d told the doctor to not let your teammates in, and she had tried, but there was only so much she could do. she couldn’t monitor the door all the time, and so a week after waking up from your coma, john price is sitting at your beside once again.
his hands are clasped together, knuckles white with the intensity of his grip. he’s leaning forward, elbows resting on the bed, hands under his chin. his position conveys his regret and worry. he looks like he should be in church, knelt between the pews and spewing silent prayers to a god that isn’t listening.
you haven’t spoken to him since he sat down ten minutes ago. the second you saw him step inside the infirmary, you knew he was there for you. there to try and speak to you, to apologize.
fuck him and his apologies.
you turned your head to the side, eyes staring at the white curtain separating your bed from the next. you studied the stitching while you listened to him breathe next to you. he hadn’t spoken either— just sat down and watched you.
it made your skin crawl, how he thought this was okay. how he thought this would be the way to get back into your good graces.
he clears his throat then, a sound you’ve heard a million times before. it makes you want to gag now.
“love,” his voice is soft, caring. you want to hit him in the jaw.
“can we talk? please?”
you don’t turn over, don’t even spare him a glance. you keep your gaze trained on the curtain. the only giveaway that he has your attention is the fists you clench at your sides.
he takes the silence as an invitation, that bastard.
“what happened—” he begins, then grunts. stops. takes a second, then begins again.
“what we did,” he says, and you roll your eyes. “it wasn’t right. the intel was from a trusted source. we—” he sighs then, and you can tell he’s rubbing his temple. he did that when he was stressed. when he was anxious.
“we were wrong to believe them over you, love. and im— im sorry.”
silence ensues. you don’t give him any indication that you’ve heard what he said. he sighs again, inhaling deeply.
“you’re still part of this team. johnny and gaz, they’ve been sitting outside this damn room like sentries. can barely pry ‘em away for drills.” he chuckles then, but it’s sad. pitiful. mournful.
“there’s nothing we can do to make this right,” he tells you. you’re still mulling over what he said about johnny and gaz. still hung up on the fact that he didn’t mention simon at all.
simon, who did the most damage to you, both psychologically and physically. simon, who shared your bed. simon.
simon, who is too much of a coward to face you for his crimes.
“but we want to try,” price is speaking again. “if you’ll let us.”
he stops talking. waits a beat, then two. then, you hear his chair scrape. he’s getting up, and that’s when you turn your head to face him.
he looks bad. bags under the eyes, skin pale, beard overgrown. you think he deserves this. deserves worse than this. his eyes meet yours, and they widen the tiniest bit at the attention you’re showing him.
your voice is full of venom as you speak.
“nothing,” you seethe, angry tears blurring your vision. “will ever undo what you did to me. what he did to me.”
price knows you’re talking about simon. the whole team knew you were a thing. hell, when they’d strapped you to that chair and debated who would ‘interrogate’ you, they hadn’t even thought to include simon. why would he want to torture the person he loved?
to their surprise, he had volunteered to take point.
“when i get out of this bed,” you continue. “im gone. and i never, never, want to see any of you again, or else im putting a fucking bullet between your eyes.”
the captain doesn’t speak. you can see the remorse on his face. you couldn’t care less about his feelings.
he gives a short nod, and without another word, he turns and leaves the room.
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after john’s visit, no one else tries to visit you. you no longer catch glimpses of kyle or johnny outside the infirmary door. you’re glad they’re starting to get the hint.
but you’re still getting flowers. you don’t know where they’re coming from. sometimes they’re dropped off by a nurse, other times they appear in the morning after a restless sleep. there’s never a note. never anything to suggest who would be leaving them.
you know it’s one of the 141, but you don’t know exactly who. you feel certain it’s not simon.
but, unbeknownst to you, it is him. he knows you don’t want to see him— to see any of them. price had told them all about what you’d said to him during your talk.
price had also told them that he’d already started preparing your transfer papers. that had caused an uproar from soap, who’d quickly been quieted by a saddened price.
simon had expected it. expected worse, actually. he knew that if the roles had been reversed, he wouldn’t have been as merciful as you. it made him hate what they’d done to you so much more.
there had been the tiniest doubt in his mind when all the evidence pointed to you. he hadn’t believed it at first— and then things became damning. everything pointed to you. trusted sources were pointing their fingers at you, and everyone listened. he had listened.
he had volunteered to torture you because he’d been angry. rage he hadn’t felt in years bubbled to the surface of his skin, and he wanted to tear you limb from limb. how dare you come into their lives— his life— and betray them so substantially?
simon didn’t trust easily. he was battered and broken and scarred. shattered and malformed pieces hastily glued back together. he let the team in. let you in. let you see his face. let you into his bed. let you into his fucking heart.
and you turned around and drove a dagger into him. or so he thought.
he thought his anger and actions had been justified. thought he was doing the world a favor by butchering you. but he was wrong. the team was wrong.
he finds himself regretting how he hadn’t listened to your pleas, but there’s nothing he can do about it now.
he knows the chances of you forgiving him, of letting him back into your life, are slim to none. but how could he not at least try?
you’d know each other for years. been together for years. all of it thrown away because he still knew the hurt of betrayal all too well. because it was too easy to fall back into the mindset that it was him against everyone. that the only person he knew, the only one he could rely on, was himself.
so he left flowers. your favorite ones. and he did so without making you face him, without apologizing or groveling. it was the least he owed you.
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a month after your coma, you were finally allowed out of the infirmary. you were still healing, skin still tender and bruised. pink, jagged scars lining your skin; eternal reminders of the pain you’d been subjected to.
you’d been given a t-shirt and a pair of jeans, which you’d pulled on with much fuss. every time you struggled or stumbled, you found yourself getting angry. angry at the men who did this to you.
the anger was going to eat you alive, at least that’s what the psychologist that had been dropping by to see you had said. she’d told you you need to let it go, and you’d laughed in her face.
how do you let something like this go?
you didn’t know. you didn’t think you were strong enough to do that. not a good enough person to forgive the men that had carved into you.
once you had dressed, you shuffled out into the hallway. you’d profusely denied an escort, and the doctor had reluctantly acquiesced. she’d let you go, with just the promise that you’d keep your iv hooked in.
so here you were, trudging down the halls of the base, iv pole rattling along behind you.
you could feel eyes on you, but no one dared to get too close. you were glad. you didn’t want more empty apologies and sympathetic words.
you still remembered the way to price’s office like the back of your hand. you doubted you’d ever forget it.
time and time again you’d found yourself here. sometimes, getting reprimanded. others, congratulated. a few times you’d shown up in tears, and price had let you in without a word.
now you were standing outside his door, trying to contain the rage in your veins.
you raised a hand. knocked once, firm and loud.
“come in!” price called from inside.
you were already twisting the door knob, pushing into the room.
your eyes found price first. he was leaning against his desk, arms crossed over his chest. his hat was absent from his head, instead resting beside him on the desk.
and then you noticed simon.
he was wearing all black. his hands were covered, bones decorating the black gloves. gloves you’d seen many times before. gloves that had been pressed to gunshots, trying to stop the bleeding.
the lower half of his face was covered, allowing you to see from his eyes up. his sandy blonde hair was ruffled.
you quickly turned your attention back to price.
“love, what are you doin’ here? you should be in bed—” he began, but you waved a hand as you stepped further into the room. you pulled your iv pole in behind you, then kicked the door shut.
“don’t talk, just listen. i still mean what i said when you came to visit. the only reason im here right now is because you haven’t put in for my fucking transfer.” you hissed.
the captain’s eyes widened, his face taking on a sheepish expression at the revelation that he’d been caught. simon stood quietly beside him, eyes trained on you. you ignored him.
“love, i didn’t want to do anything before you were ready—” he began. you cut him off.
“bullshit! you didn’t want to do anything because you don’t want me to leave. you want me to forgive you, right? hear you all out? come back and be a happy little family again?”
the room fell eerily silent as you stared at the captain. your heart was roaring in your ears.
“put in the fucking transfer, john.” you finished.
he reluctantly nodded. he inhaled, his eyes glancing at his lieutenant briefly, before he spoke again.
“of course, love. ‘m sorry.”
you didn’t say anything else. you turned to go, your back to the men, when simon’s voice cut through the air.
“you should be respectful to your captain, sergeant.”
you froze as you took in his words. was he fucking serious?
you didn’t turn around. you trained your eyes on the door as you spoke words through gritted teeth.
“you should watch your tongue, lieutenant, before I fucking cut it off.”
with that, you pulled open the door and stepped into the hallway, slamming it loudly behind you.
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author’s note:
apologies for the wait! I hope everyone enjoyed! (this is being posted before proofreading, so I hope it’s okay— I’ll read through it later, it’s just late and im tired lol)
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Text
On Stream- M. Sturniolo
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pairing: gf!reader x bf!Matt
classification: fluff
warnings: use of y/n, short, slight cursing, some suggestive comments
summary: Matt mentions you on stream, causing the chat to go crazy.
Nowadays it seems that Matt and Chris have an abnormal amount of free time.
The pair have spent the past few days running errands, catching up on chores, spending quality time together, and unwinding. But two energetic young men can only do so much relaxing before it becomes unbearably boring, especially without you and Nick around.
Nick’s somewhere across the globe, relishing in the perks of having good friends. He’s experiencing the world with a sense of individuality, having been apart from his triplet brothers for over a week.
Without Nick around the house is quiet and boring enough, but Chris and Matt can usually count on you to keep them company. But it seems that they see you less and less every day.
You aren’t somewhere far away, not physically at least, you’re just very, very busy. As you enter the fall semester, you’re juggling a multitude of responsibilities including school, work, your social life, and your relationship. But as you adjust to your crazy hectic schedule, you spend less time at home with Matt and more time nose deep in a book.
So, just as the brothers grow accustomed to the eerie silence that haunts the halls of their home and the boredom that settles into their everyday lives, they decide enough is enough and take up a new hobby. Streaming.
Today, as Matt anchors himself in his rolling chair, his eyes skim through the endless chats that flood his screen. Chris sits next to him, a vibrant and excited smile adorning his features.
This is their third consecutive day going live on Twitch. At first they went live to entertain and chat with their fans, but now they’re doing it to occupy their bored minds.
Chris’s eyes skim the chat, fixating on one message in particular. He subconsciously reads it aloud, “Is Y/n on tour with Nick? We miss her.”
After reading the comment, the chat was flooded with similar messages asking for you. Matt slumps into his chair, the mention of your name reminding him that it’s been a week since he’s seen you.
“Nah, she’s just busy with school right now,” Chris replies mindlessly, skimming for another comment to read.
A lot of the viewers noticed Matt’s mood shift. They noticed the way his eyes drooped and the way the corners of his mouth turned into a frown. They especially noticed the disassociated look he wore, mind traveling to a place only you could bring him out of.
“Matt,” Chris says, waving a hand in front of his brother’s face. No response. “Matt!” He tries again, louder this time. Matt still doesn’t respond, only coming back into reality when Chris violently shakes his shoulders.
“What, dude? What?!” Matt asks, annoyance evident in his tone.
“Your phone’s ringing.” Chris replies with an eye roll and a small scoff.
Suddenly the blaring ring registers in Matt’s mind as he pats his pockets in search of his phone. When he finally finds it, your name illuminated the screen.
“Who’s calling?” Chris asks, stretching out his neck in hopes of catching a nosy glimpse at the caller ID.
“Umm be right back chat. Y/n’s calling,” Matt says, words spewing out a mile a minute. He disappears from the room faster than ever, immediately pressing the phone to his ear.
“Hello?”
“Hey, baby.” Your voice is music to Matt’s ears. It feels like forever since he’s last heard it.
“Hey,” he murmurs, “everything okay?”
You hum in response, followed by a soft yawn.
“You sound tired. When are you coming home?” Matt asks, softly leaning against the wall. You’ve been at school all day stuck in lectures and studying, so Matt knows you need some well deserved rest.
“I’m on my way now. That’s why I called, wanted to see if you guys were hungry so I could pick up something to eat.”
The excitement that courses through Matt’s veins is unreal, winding him up with enough energy to last until tomorrow. He can’t wait to see you, hold you, kiss you, and make up for all the lost time.
“Whatever you want, baby,” he replies, pausing for a second to compose himself, “I just wanna see you.”
A warm smile graces your features and if Matt could see it he’d mirror your expression.
“I’ll be home soon don’t worry. How’s the stream going?”
“Huh?” For a second Matt forgot that he and his brother were live streaming for thousands of people.
“The stream. Aren’t you live with Chris right now?”
“Ohhh. It’s going… it’s going good.” Matt replies with a soft sigh.
Your smile is momentarily replaced with a frown. “It doesn’t sound like it’s going good. What’s wrong?”
Matt’s fingers pinch the bridge of his nose before gliding across his eyelids and massaging the tense nerves and muscles on his face. “It’s going fine. I just can’t focus. The chat keeps asking about you and it’s honestly making me really sad.”
A small chuckle escapes your lips. “Aww my poor baby. Can’t focus on Fortnite?”
“Not Fortnite.”
“Oops, sorry. Fall Guys?
“Y/n.” Matt warns, though he finds it slightly funny too.
“I’m joking, I’m joking. I’ll be home soon with some good food and open arms. We can cuddle and watch a movie, or do anything else you wanna do. Okay?”
Matt feels his spirit lighten up again, a cheeky smirk forming on his face. “Anything?”
“Don’t push it,” you laugh.
Just as Matt’s about to respond, he’s cut short by Chris calling his name from inside the room.
“Get back to your stream. I’ll be home soon, handsome.”
Matt’s lips form a silly pout you can’t even see as he replies, “But I wanna keep talking to you. Miss you so much.”
“MATT!” Chris calls again, this time much louder than the last.
“We’ll talk all you want when I get home. Now go! I have the stream pulled up on my computer and I think Chris is gonna start twerking,” you say, trying your best not to laugh.
“Holy fuck this kid,” Matt groans, face palming. “Alright baby, I love you. Drive safe.”
“I love you too,” you say through small giggles before hanging up.
When Matt renters the room, he’s not surprised to find Chris dancing for the camera. He pushes past him and settles back into his rolling chair wearing a huge, toothy smile.
“What did Y/n want?” Chris asks, briefly glancing at Matt as he switches from doing the griddy to shuffling across the room.
“Just asked if we were hungry,” Matt shrugs, attempting to act nonchalant, but there’s no hiding the newfound pep in his step.
“And it took you that long?”
“I was catching up with my girl. —Why the fuck are you still dancing?”
“Someone gifted,” Chris says, slightly breathless as he bops from corner to corner.
“Alright…” Matt shifts towards the computer, “What did I miss?”
He reads comments, expecting most of them to be about Chris and his absurd dancing skills, but he’s surprised to find that they’re all about you.
Some fans ask where you are, others ask what you’re doing, some speculate on the conversation you and Matt had, and others simply comment on how much happier Matt seems since talking to you.
All Matt can do is smile and patiently wait for you to arrive, ready to bombard you with kisses as soon as you step through the door.
MASTERLIST
a/n: hi babies! Hope you enjoy this short oneshot! I know I haven’t updated or posted much in a longggg time but I honestly had writers block :P I’m trying to get into the habit of writing again, so bear with me pls. I have a lotttt of drafts (some that just need to be edited) so be expecting that soon! Luv you all 😚
- L.A.M.B🪽💝
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note: if you want to be tagged in my fanfic related posts, you can access my TAGLIST and comment 💐 if your user is striked through, I wasn’t able to tag you :(
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gay-dorito-dust · 6 months
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How these guys would react to having their face held…
Dick smiles out of habit and pushes his face even further into your hands, humming in content.
He loves it when you held him, however that may be, as it was the one thing he looked forward to the most when coming home.
He’s prone to frequent bouts of fatigue with patrols and the like, but it was moments like these where he could truly appreciate your touch and the healing properties they have on him.
‘I could spend forever here in your hands.’ He’d sigh as he allowed himself to relax within your touch.
‘Oh really? Is that so?’ You raised your brows, watching as the features within his face relaxed into a one that showed you just how exhausted Dick looked. You could see the toll his job his job took but you knew that Dick was too devoted, too attached to what he does to ever give it up, no matter how constantly drained and tired it made him.
You respect his decision to keep doing what he was doing but there came times where you’d just wish he would take a breather from it all, even if it was just for a second, you just wanted to take the weight off of Dick’s shoulders and put it aside for a moment while you work the tension out of his aching muscles.
‘Yeah.’ He responded, feeling himself sink further into sleep. Dick loved what he does but some times he resents it for leaving him with little to no time to spend with you, at least not without him falling asleep five minutes within the interaction. Time with you was sparse and all Dick wanted to do was spend as much of it as he could to make up for the fact that he was barely home at all during the day.
He knew that he prioritised being a hero over your relationship too often and he couldn’t help but feel a tremendous amount of guilt over it during your relationship. You didn’t deserve to wait up for him every night to make sure he was okay, not while developing heavy eye bags of your own and a lack of a sleeping schedule.
He just hopes that one day you too will realise that you better then what he’s giving you and put yourself first, but you were too selfless to ever do that and he could feel that through the way you trace his features with your fingers with featherlight caresses.
Jason stiffens beneath your touch and goes unresponsive for such a long time that you were worried that you had accidentally crossed a boundary.
So just as you were about to remove your hands from his face, Jason quickly reaches out to grasp your hands and pull them back to cupping his cheeks as he then proceeded to nuzzle his cheek against your palm.
‘Stay.’ He whispered. ‘Please.’
Your heart broke at his plea but obeyed as you began to stroke his cheeks with either of your thumbs, feeling him gradually relax under your touch until he was practically a puddle in your hands.
‘I’m sorry.’ He whimpered, burying his face into your hands so that you didn’t see his tear stricken red face. ‘I don’t deserve this. None of it.’ He adds, cursing himself for being so pathetic but your touch practically broke him in the best way.
In your hands Jason felt as though all his broken prices were being put back together again through love, warmth and patience and that was enough to make him breakdown into tears.
Physical affection is a foreign concern to this poor man, and in due to that Jason is naturally going to be skeptical and on edge the moment the pads of your fingertips explore his jawline, before slowly coming up to cup his cheeks. ‘I’m right here Jaybridie.’ You utter softly as you felt his grip on your wrists slack a little. ‘I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere because nowhere is more important than staying here with you. Just take your time.’ And stay with him you did.
Damian is another one who’s not use to soft touches and sweet affection.
So he’ll initially be on guard when he saw you coming his way with your hands outstretched to cup his cheeks, but will huff and reluctantly rest his face in your palms, he’s extremely stiff while doing so and looking away from you out of initial embarrassment.
‘Get on with it.’ He’d mutter, acting as though such acts or moments of tenderness and vulnerability were beneath him, when in actuality Damian loved the feeling of you hold his face as though it were porcelain. He loved the fact that despite knowing his upbringing you still treat him with a love, kindness and warmth that he has never been shown before.
To Damian it was clear that you didn’t care if he was the son of Bruce Wayne and Talia al Ghul, grandson of Ra’s al Ghul. You only cared about him, Damian Wayne and he could feel that care through your touch as he vowed to cut through anything and everything that intended to harm you.
Your touch brings him a sense of calm, serenity and peace that brought him back from the brink a plethora of times, especially in moments when his arrogance and brashness would resurface. Damian was thankful for you being in his life, a true guiding light in his darkest moments, and he couldn’t think of any possible way to thank you for everything you’ve done for him but he’ll surly try.
Bruce feels the tension behind his eyes and in his jaw sooth themselves under your touch.
His eyes would slowly close as he brought his calloused hands up to gently stroke the inside of your wrists. Bruce needs no words to describe how he felt because he feels as though his expressions and the noises of content made it clear how much he appreciated you being here with him.
‘You look tired.’ You commented, tracing the weary lines on his hard face with your eyes as he observed your face and the way it showed most of your innermost emotions whether you were aware of this fact or not.
Bruce knew that you worry and that you worry a lot about him in particular when it came to whether he was sleeping enough, eating enough and keeping himself safe whilst fighting on the streets of Gotham. Bruce knew he was as stubborn as mule when it came to his life choices and that you were only just worried about him because you cared for him, but sometimes he wished you would redirect all this effort towards yourself because he oftentimes didn’t think he was worth of your worry, nor your care.
Bruce felt as though he should be the one taking care of you rather than you taking care of him. It’s not as though he hates it, it’s just you’ve shown him on countless occasions of your care towards him, and on even more occasions you have shown him of your unwavering dedication towards him. Bruce also feels like he should be the one paying you back for all the hard times where you stood by his side, watching him practically work himself to the bone and almost into a comatose if you didn’t step in and deal him away from the computers.
For you’ve proven time and time again that you weren’t so easily swayed into leaving, and that was made more true when he felt comfortable enough telling you that he was Batman and the dangers that would come with knowing such knowledge. You however only shrugged and told him that by his side, you were the safest you’ve ever been or will ever be.
‘More so than usual?’ He asked in a way that it might as well have came out as an indignant huff.
‘And by more so than usual you mean constantly, then yes, yes you are more tired than usual.’ You replied as you ran your thumbs under his eyes and across his eye bags as if to emphasise your point. Bruce only huffs as he watched you take in all of him with nothing but love and affection in your eyes and your touch.
John would most likely bite your hand out of an inherent need to be a teasing little shit.
Will boast about the fact that you just wanted to touch up his stubble. He wasn’t lying but you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that and instead say; ‘in your dreams John.’
‘Oh I’m sure I am in yours.’ He reply with confidence as he winked, causing you to lightly pinch his cheek as punishment for his cockiness. ‘I hate you.’ You’d say as you push your fingertips through his stubbly beard, enjoying the way it deliciously tickles your skin, almost as though they were little prickly kisses.
‘No you don’t sweetheart, try as you might but you and me both know that for definite that you love me.’ John would state in a matter of fact tone. Once again you hated how right he was, but kept your lips sealed shut as not to give him any more ammunition to tease and contradict you at any given opportunity than you’ve already have.
The air between you is playful and light in comparison to how cynical, sharp witted and sarcastic he usually is on a daily basis. It was a welcomed change as you allowed the blonde to pretend to bite your hand, only allowing for his teeth to barely graze your skin before pulling away with a sly smirk as you scratch at his stubble.
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mactavishsgfandwife · 7 months
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Soft Simon "Ghost" Riley Cuddling You 🧸
this is not about dominant tough simon riley, this is about sweet precious baby boy simon riley :3 this is my response to @paper-r-i-n-g-s-and-c-r-o-w-n’s request (here) and the link they included! thank u for being my first request loviee
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Simon Riley absolutely loves to be babied when you cuddle him.
Scary Simon. Soldier Simon. 6’4", jacked Simon, walking around the base in his skull mask, scaring anyone who doesn’t know better shitless. To the enemy, he’s like an urban legend - once you realise that he’s there, it’s too late.
And that’s the image that he likes to keep - he grew up tough, and he refuses to be anything but tough. He might be nice now but he wouldn’t hesitate to blow your brains out if you double-crossed him.
That is, until he met you. It was hard to get him to open up at first, with his reluctance to be anything but casually terrifying, and his fear that he would get too attached, just in time for you to leave. But after 6 months together, he’s finally comfortable, and you’ve discovered his soft spot for being praised like a baby.
"Aww…" you coo, stroking his grown-out buzzcut, as he lays on your chest, "my sweet boy." His broad body is holding you down to the bed, and you know you wouldn’t be able to escape from under him if you wanted to. But you don’t mind, after all, it’s sweet to see him like this. With his face pressed into your neck, one strong arm around your waist and the other around your torso, he mumbles softly.
You press soft kisses into the top of his head as you rub his back - he’s been training all day and he’s so tired. :( Poor baby, he really needs you to hold him. His shoulders are sore and as you rub them gently he lets out a little whine, nuzzling his face further into the crook of your neck.
"Mmm," he groans, his voice muffled against your skin.
"Oh, baby…" you pull those hands back up to cradle him to you, "are you okay, sweet boy?"
"Tha’ hurts," he mumbles. He’s not very talkative when he’s like this, he just wants to be held.
"Sorry," you kiss the top of his head apologetically, "is my poor baby sore from training?" He groans as you call him that, nodding in response as he breathes in your scent.
"Speak up for me, sweetheart" you coo.
"’M sore from training."
"Who’s sore..?"
"Me."
"N what’re you, honey..?" you stroke his hair softly, like he’s a precious teddy bear.
"Your baby," he mumbles.
"Good boy." Just a few months ago, Simon would have been mortified by the interaction, but you’ve got him wrapped around your little finger, cuddling up to you like he’s a cat and you’re a heating pad. He is a good boy, and he deserves some comfort after working so hard. 💗💗💗
(my other - nsfw - story about pathetic simon here)
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i hope this is what you asked for! i hope it doesn’t come off as too pathetic but also i love writing (and thinking about) sweet pathetic simon. <3 like omg if anyone knows who made the render then lmk so that i can credit! i wasn’t sure who the name on the image referred to
masterlist buy me a coffee
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