#zayn blond hair

[inzedits]

• if you use or save please like :) x

[sudaca-swag]

2014 fashion is coming back so strong they even got zayn malik to live while were young his ass lmao

[chans-room]

Can this one ruin your life too?

Lbr ANY and EVERY Chan can ruin my life…

But this one looks too much like my ex and he already ruined my life once lmao I don’t need a repeat

[velvetcrimsonkisses]

Sweat for me- Nanami Kento

Note: felt like writing for Nanami 🤭, hope y'all like and enjoy! Also, listen to Sweat by Zayn. The song is so good!! Feel free to leave requests too!! 🫶🏻

WC: 510

CW: pussy eating, light ass slapping, cum eating, 69, multiple orgasms.

Fwb!Nanami x Fem!reader

You didn’t know exactly what you were with Kento anymore. You started off as coworkers, then friends, then to knowing every vein, curve, and crevice on that man's body; that was quite literally sculpted by the gods. 

It was another regular night for you, sitting on Nanami’s face as he ate your pretty pussy out. It made you dizzy how this man would lap at your hot cunt, while slapping your ass leaving his large red handprint on your supple skin. You squirm and tug on his blonde hair as you reach your nth high of the night just on his tongue. You were Nanami’s favorite meal after all. 

Nanami wasn’t a big fan of blowjobs but, when you insist. It’s always 69. You suck his pretty pink mushroom-like tip and thick shaft while he nuzzles his gorgeous face in your slick, pumping his long fingers into you. Nanami isn’t a moaner but you know he feels good when his grip on your plush thighs tightens and he bucks his hips up into that lovely mouth of yours. A quiet grunt slipping out here and there. You always swallow everything this man gives you. How could you not? He always tasted divine. 

Nanami being the gentleman he is, always fucks you in missionary. He loves your face as much as he loves your body. He’s actually madly in love with you, he just doesn’t want to admit his feelings yet. He loves the sound your cunt makes as he enters you slowly. Always intertwining his hand yours as he begins to thrust into you. His other hand gripping onto the soft flesh of your hip. Nanami loved pressing himself onto you, your bodies melting together as he continued to grind into you. 

A thin sheet of sweating forming on his body only made him that much more sexy. The veins that protrude on his arms drive you insane, you can’t help but grope him as you use him for support. Enamoured by the way your moans fall from your lips, he is pushed to the edge. Fucking you at an animalistic pace, ravishing you. He quickly attaches his lips to yours, both of your tongues sliding against each other. Shockwaves of pleasure quickly come over the both of you. 

Nanami did not like wasting cum. He always came inside you and you loved being filled by him. Foreheads pressed against together as you both come down from your high. A few moments after, he slides out of you and you begin to miss his warmth but you know the night isn’t over yet. Nanami is quick to grab a warm towel and clean the both of you up. 

He lays back down in bed with you, and like clock-work you're in his strong arms all cuddled up with him. Leaving soft kisses on your neck and jaw, you close your eyes to enjoy his sweet gestures. 

“A date is long overdue don’t you think, darling?” He coos into your ear. A small smile appears on your face. 

[glitter-epoch]

your zayne hand fic was just sooo hot thank you for the food!!! this anon is wondering if you could do a spicy xavier fic as well, with maybe the prompt… darkness or black out? THANK YOU

nsfw, 18+ only, mdni!

OF COURSE. screamed when i saw this in my inbox. thank you for the kind words i’m so glad you like it!!! 

fem!reader | 4.7k words smut under the cut, 18+ ONLY mdni!!! do NOT!!!

. . .

warnings: unprotected sex, fingering, light evol heresy switch xavier if you squint maaaybe. kiiind of.

. . .

you’re stepping out of the shower when the lights go out.

they heave like a car that’s just run out of gas, the wires in the walls giving a pathetic, zappy little hhhh before fizzling out.

you step forward too far, the darkness and the icy air of the mostly granite bathroom startling you. a scream escapes you as you scamper forward, trying not to trip. your fingertips meet smooth stone.

as you grip the sink in the dark, embarrassed by your own outburst, your phone blinks to life on the counter. for a moment, the bathroom is illuminated. fog is receding on the mirror and on your phone’s screen as all of the warm air in the room is sucked out, replaced with wintry breezes that leak in from outside as the heat system in your apartment dies.

shivering, you pick up the phone. it's xavier.

“is your power out?” you sigh, putting him on speaker. he lives one floor above you; maybe his is fine.

“yes. was that you screaming?”

he echoes off the walls. his voice is raspy and fond, the way it always is when-

“were you asleep just now?” you ask. “it’s not even 7 o’clock.”

“yes,” xavier yawns. “it’s winter now, so it gets dark outside early. are you okay?”

“no, i almost broke my legs.” 

xavier pauses, and you realize he’s probably about to ask if you’re serious.

“…do you mean it-“

“no, sorry, i’m just kidding.“

you glance around the bathroom, shaking like a wet dog in a storm. and there is, you realize, a storm outside; rattling the hedges in the courtyard below and splattering the technicolor billboards of linkon beyond. that’s what cut the power.

your clothes are folded on the toilet seat; a soft pair of sweatpants and one of the deepspace hunters’ crewnecks- too big for work, too comfy not to lounge in. but you’re thinking of other things. 

your hair drips water onto the tile like a clock ticking, the neighbor’s wind chimes are casting shadows on the wall, and lighting is striking in the distance.

you swallow an embarrassingly large lump of anxiety in your throat.

“xavier?” you prod. he’s been patiently quiet until now.

“i’m here.”

you almost smile at how sweet he is.

“this is ridiculous, i’m really sorry…”

he waits another patient second more.

“do you want me to come to you?” he asks. 

“please.”

there’s a knock on the door. you flinch, nearly knocking the phone off the counter.

“is that you?” you exclaim.

“i came downstairs when you stopped responding. i’m glad i’m at the right door, though. i can’t see.”

. . .

xaiver comes with a flashlight. “i thought this might make you feel safer.”

he’s wearing the one crewneck- white, with the detailing on the bottom- all that really matters is it looks cozy. he’s clearly brushed his hair since waking up, but it’s already piecing together on his forehead and over his ears like it usually does; silvery-blonde sections looking just as soft as he is. his hair and his palms and the column of his throat seem to shine a little bit, like he’s bioluminescent from the inside. maybe it’s his evol. in truth, you’re probably just imagining it. he’s xavier; everything about him is a little off-kilter and mezmerizing.

he presents the flashlight to you as he shuts your front door behind him and peers around. “wow. it really is dark.” 

his eyes are wide; glossy spheres that catch the slivers of remaining light in your apartment. you try not to stare. 

“thank you,” you grin, a little embarassed. 

flipping the switch on the flashlight is useless; the battery is dead.

in the dim moonlight filtering through your front room’s blinds, you see his porcelain face go a little crooked; he grins and frowns at the same time, lopsided.

“of course,” he hums.

you thank him again anyways (warmed that he thought to bring it) and try to lead him to the closet, feeling along the walls. “i should have candles in the closet.”

xavier follows you, albeit, not close behind, like he’s trying to stay out of sight.

“are you hiding?” you quip, although your heart has started to pump with more effort in your chest. 

“no,” he says from behind you. “i’m trying not to bump into you. you scare easily.” he’s quiet for a moment. “clearly.”

you turn over your shoulder, scowling at his vaguely silver outline. “i do not. quit stalking; just walk with me.”

you’ve been stopped for long enough in the darkest stretch of the hallway that xavier’s on you, then; he bumps into you on accident, a good head-and-a-half taller. his chest and the insides of his biceps are warm as he politely slides two hands up your shoulders and clamps down on them. you suck in a breath and he steadies you.

“see?” he mocks softly. 

xavier removes his right hand from your shoulder but seems to keep the other one in place, like he’s worried you’re going to knock into the wall (you might). he lifts his palm up to you- which is large enough to take up the area of your face- and a golden light blooms from the center line on his skin, extending slowly to his fingers. 

once your face is lit up, the corners of his lips quirk up the tiniest bit; his eyes go soft.

there are only so many things you could say: i’m not jumpy, you touched me. i’m not jumpy, i’m in love with you. 

none would save you any dignity, so you just swallow a shaky breath and complain, “you could’ve done that when you got here.”

“i thought the flashlight would be more thoughtful.”

his frame and his warmth hover beside you like a heat lamp as you walk. he smells good; like soap, and expensive fabric softener, which is ridiculous, because you’re certain if you asked him what fabric softener he used, he would reply, “why would i need that? isn’t fabric already soft?”

you come to the doorknob. “okay. back up.”

he does. the air behind you becomes significantly colder as you pull open the door to the closet.

thunder cracks outside as if its splitting the sky in two. you flinch, yanking on the door, heart in your throat; the vacuum cleaner tips over, falls out, bounces off your head.

“ow,” you hiss, clapping a shaking hand to your forehead. 

xavier returns; his chin near the top of your head as he seems to shield you from the rest of the (unfavorably) dark corridor, sticking his arm into the closet to prevent any other heavy stowed items from landing on you. the light in his palm has gone out. 

“are you okay?” xavier worries, almost certainly suspecting your mood is going to be more bruised than your head.

thunder cracks again in succession, three times, like the beating of some hellish drum. a scream escapes you. you duck, actually duck- and xavier loses you in the dark of the closet. he feels around for a moment until he finds your forearm and pulls gently.

“oh my god,” you pant. “sorry, sorry-”

“you’re really afraid of thunderstorms, aren’t you?” he asks softly; perhaps partially to tease you, but with xavier, it’s hard to tell. he’s so blunt and open-booked that nothing and everything sounds like a judgement when he delivers it.

you nod, unable to do anything else at this point. “apparently.”

“you’re shaking,” he comments- and you are, like a- “you’re like a little dog.”

you scowl at him, having thought it yourself but assumed he would be kind enough not to say it out loud.

“what, like the little rabid white ones with crust around their eyes? how dare you?” you huff, turning your head, but he’s still holding you; one big hand on the small of your back now, warm as a heating pad.

“okay,” xavier sighs, and his grin is audible. “let’s go.”

his hands glow like lanterns all the way to the den.

. . . 

you wake up and even the moon has darkened.

storm clouds form a thick and heavy blanket over the sky, snuffing out any light from the cosmos. the den and even your distant kitchen are completely dark, the furniture forming only the vaguest lines in your sight. there are lines on your face, almost certainly, you think; forcing your head and neck up like a cobra, your torso and the front of your thighs glued to something warm and mostly solid. you press your fingers to your face and find indents in your cheek and across your eyelid from where your face was smushed into whatever is beneath you.

xavier. it’s xavier. 

his face is perfectly serene, the smooth and pearlescent slopes of his cheeks and browbones perfectly still and almost visible in the dark. but his lips aren’t parted and his arms are slightly stiff; if he’s asleep, it’s only partially. 

you flinch, just barely, shocked at his presence there more than anything. it comes back to you in small blinks; yes, you had laid down with him, he’d insisted. no it’s not weird. of course i don’t mind. it’s a little ridiculous for you to act like you’ve never fallen asleep on me before (true). and at some point, you’d both wriggled into this position; with your entire body draped over him, blanket on the floor, both of you hot as irons. 

in his light-sleep, xavier seems to feel you jolt. one hand comes to the back of your head and pulls you down, depositing your face into the crook of his shoulder. he’s laying on his back, fitted perfectly into the corner of the sofa; he’s all encompassing.

“no,” xavier demands, albeit gently. “go back to sleep.”

his voice vibrates against your cheek. you’re tired, sluggish, your limbs are heavy; but your heart thumps in your chest, something almost like panic rising in your throat. certainly he knows what this looks like, knows how it feels- you’re completely twisted around each other.

“xavier,” you argue.

“you were happy,” he rasps, lifting his arms up. he wraps them completely around your head, sealing you in. the weight of his biceps are heavy on you; you knew he was strong, obviously, but he really is…strong. his chest is carved beneath you. “you were happy when you were asleep. so do it again.”

“you just want to go back to sleep,” is your reply.

xavier shifts, and one hand drifts down to the middle of your back. he pulls you into him and squeezes, like he’s stretching. you inhale deeply as your face drifts closer to his collarbones, exposed as his sweatshirt is pulled in every direction by your sprawling weight. your mouth falls open as he holds you, deliberately tight, now; you’re sure of it. he’s practically using you like a stress-ball.

he feels your breath on his neck and his eyes flutter open slowly, fingers twitching to a stop.

“what are you doing?” he chirps.

you could smack him. “what are you doing?”

the thunder returns before anyone can answer, like it senses you’re awake. xavier responds instantly, plucking a fallen blanket off the ground and draping it over both of your heads. in breaths, you’re locked into one another; in a world under the quilt. 

you peer up at him in the complete blackness, feeling his breath on your nose.

“better?” xavier asks.

the sound is surprisingly resonant; he’s ridiculously close.

you feel around his chest and arms, trying to find his head. he inhales, choppily, but doesn’t stop you.

“you are doing something…” he murmurs. his body responds to you, shoulders rising slightly as your fingers dance over them.

“i’m just trying to find your face,” you retort (doing something).

xavier takes your hand and presses it to his cheek. “here.”

you gulp. what are you supposed to do now?

it’s quiet for a moment, rain ricocheting gently off the windows of your apartment. the thunder is distant for a few breaths, rolling far away but seemingly making its way back, like engineered waves slowly picking up speed in a wave pool.

xavier’s heart is always slow, so slow that it sometimes worries you. but his breath is not; the movement of his hands is fast. if he’s not nervous- he’s at least worked up.

thunder cracks. before you can jump or blink or even breathe, he pulls the blanket even further over your heads and reaches for the small of your back, dragging your body up until the top of your head presses into his chin.

you let him, allowing your head to drop onto his chest, unsure of what else to do and not quite able to think of anything else to do as his hands roam around under your sweatshirt; exploring the slopes and ridges of your back and spine.

“your heartbeat is so fast,” xavier murmurs, but his voice is far-away, too; his hands are greedy as he searches for something on the plane of your skin- knots, nerves. soft things, for himself. “you aren’t this afraid of a storm.”

“no,” you cave, essentially coming clean. “what are you trying to do?”

he stills, hands still under your shirt. “are you uncomfortable?”

“no,” you blurt. “no.”

you’re almost certain he smiles; his breath is soft and quiet for a moment. “then can i keep going?”

you pause, nervous. “keep going with what?”

his chest is suspended for a moment. he doesn’t answer. 

in the silence, you’re just barely emboldened enough to whisper it, though you’re not entirely sure what his plan is: “keep going.”

the storm seems to be on his side as a low, rumbling roll of thunder passes by your window, lightning following- for the shortest second, you can see his face; lips swollen with sleep, and parted, his eyes closed. 

your trembling returns for a myriad of reasons. this propels xavier to wrap an arm around your waist and sit up, taking you with him; your knees are forced to bend, thighs spread out on either side of him. you straddle his lap, the blanket slipping off your head.

xavier’s eyes flutter open slowly, ever sleepy. his hair splays around him, lighter than the rest of the room. his expression is almost a smile, dazed and determined, and his eyes seem to light up as they rove over the mere outline of your face in the dark. “i’ll distract you,” he says, sliding his palms onto your knees.

he waits, hands heavy. 

“what are you…” you begin.

oh. he wants you to sit.

you do; he’s hard under you, and he inhales. 

“xavier…” you whisper, uncertain not of your own desire, but his. “i didn’t think you…you never-”

“i never what?” he says, swiping your hair off one side of your neck. “your hair is still wet.” his fingers tangle in the damp strands at the top of your spine, roving up to the top of your head. “are you cold?”

“n-no,” you manage. 

xavier leans forward, his lips close to your neck- then he stops, looks up at you. his eyes are practically the only things visible in the room; but he seems to be able to see you quite well.

“can you see in the dark, or something?” you pant. he doesn’t answer. instead:

“you want me,” he remarks, quiet. 

“you want me,” you retort, instantly defensive; this doesn’t feel real.

xavier- tall and lithe and hard under you, clawing to keep you close to him- blushes still, his cheeks almost red. he smiles, almost, pupils as big as saucers.

“you do want me,” he answers for you, nodding as his lips latch onto your neck.

it’s a ploy. you inhale, stretching your back for him; so naturally, his hands drift to lift up your sweatshirt, then glide up your waist, up to your ribs. he swipes his thumbs over the skin there, and gasps slightly when he finds nothing there; no bra under your hoodie.

“i’m sorry,” you whisper, for no real reason, but you’re not thinking straight. 

xavier doesn’t even ordain you with a response to something so stupid. he just reaches higher, palms your breasts, both of you inhaling as your nipples pebble under him. 

“i can see you,” xavier whispers, his lips on the shell of your ear. “i can see far in the dark. but you can barely see anything…”

you feel feverish; hot and dizzy and unable to take a full breath and xavier pushes your sweatshirt up to you neck, urging you to slip it off.

“do you want to?” he asks, breathless.

you’re the one who ignores a stupid comment this time, slipping off the hoodie. wet strands of hair fall over your shoulders and face, tangling over xavier’s fingers and dangling in front of his eyes. 

he stares at you through the dark, eyes languidly darting all over your naked body; like he doesn’t know what to do first, like he’s astonished that you’re something he’s really looking at.

xavier looks up at you, practically drooling. “is this still okay?”

“are you kidding me?”

he responds with something low, a primal and somehow still grateful sound from the back of his throat, and leans forward to catch your breasts with his mouth. his teeth graze over your nipple, his lips finding it a moment later; it slips in and out of his mouth, slick from the wetness of his mouth.

you inhale to hide a moan, sinking lower into his lap; grinding over his length unintentionally. xavier’s mouth drops off of you, and he inhales deeply; trying to get back to you, to keep working at your breasts, but he can’t.

“d-don’t,” he murmurs, “don’t.”

you wonder if you’ve really made him uncomfortable. “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean-”

“it’s not you,” he replies. “i can’t- if you keep-”

you inhale, body barely moving, and even this is too much for him. xavier completely leans back from you and tears his own shirt off; light hair splaying around his head as the shirt lands on the floor. he pushes you back slightly, until your thighs are resting on his thighs, away from his lap.

he tugs at the waistband of your sweatpants. “do you want to keep these on?”

and he’s sincere, waiting for you so patiently, despite the slack in his jaw and the glaze over his eyes. you come onto your knees, sitting up enough to push the pants down to your shins; he reaches behind you and pulls them all the way off.

he takes you in again, in nothing but your panties, like he isn’t sure if he’s really awake- despite being the one to instigate this encounter in the first place.

instigator, you think. it’s the perfect term to describe him. 

after a moment of polite gawking, he pulls on your waist like a handlebar; drags you back to him so you’re sitting with your thighs spread and balanced on either heel. as evil as he secretly is, he watches you as he brings his fingers to your panties; running his knuckles along the clothed surface of your core before pulling the fabric aside.

you gasp; one hand covering your mouth. he smiles sweetly. thunder follows.

“see?” he says, pawing innocently at your folds before running the back of his hand over the bundle of nerves there; quick to drag them slowly down again, and up again, over and over. “you needed something to distract you.”

you’re looking down, trying to see what’s happening; his face is somewhat visible, as it has been, but his hands and your thighs are not. 

xavier tests one finger at the base of your cunt; to see what you’ll do, how wet you are. his mouth falls open.

“oh…”

you’re not sure if he’s making fun of you or if he’s just shocked; but more likely than not, it’s the latter, because his eyes are big as dimes when he looks up at you, reclined against the arm of the sofa, with you on top of him.

you’re trying to remember when you got into such a compromising position. 

“can i?” he amends himself. “do you want me to?”

you almost can’t answer, so you nod, and a moment later, manage, “yes, p-please.”

‘please’ seems to set him off. his middle finger slips inside of you easily, meeting no friction. at first, you try to watch; feeling his wrist moving up and down as he pumps inside of you. then he adds a second finger and you don’t even try to look anymore, letting your head fall back.

you feel his eyes on you as you do this, pressure building in your lower belly. 

“does this feel good?” he asks, all sincerity.

“s-so good.”

“look,” he whispers.

there’s a warmth in you before you do, but even then, you can’t guess what you’re about to see- a light, faintly glowing, illuminating the thin flesh around your pelvic bones and fading out over your navel. his hand, inside you; glowing.

“xavier!” you scold. 

for a moment, he changes nothing; he watches the light wax and wane as his fingers move inside you, and you watch it, too- despite your immense humiliation- both of your mouths hung open. you aren’t sure if you’re about to curl in on yourself from embarassment or pleasure, but xavier must see the strangled expression on your face, because the light goes out.

“you get embarassed so easily,” xavier remarks, leaning forward with one hand still inside you. he uses the other to brush your damp hair out of your face, and runs the pad of his thumb over the lines on your cheeks and eyelid; places where your face was smushed into his sweater. “look at me. do you see me?” 

“k-kind of.”

he smiles, movements never slowing. you squirm in his lap, vying for more despite his steady pace. 

“i think about you,” xavier murmurs into your neck. “everyday. all the time. there’s nothing you could do that i wouldn’t want you for. don’t you see?”

you nod, emboldened by his words, thinking that you should thank him but too busy thinking about other, more immediate things.

as you’re squirming in his lap, you push forward, finally; sit on the hard length of his cock. his fingrers curl inside you and you whine.

xavier hisses and exhales. he looks up at you; the marble of his eyes shining in the dark.

“do you…” you pant, struggle. “do you want to…”

xavier nods. he keeps nodding, at first, and doesn’t even say anything- he sits up to wrap and arm around your waist and he’s still nodding. then:

“yes,” he murmurs into your ear. “i didn’t-”

you grind onto him again. his fingers leave you, steadying himself with that now unoccupied hand. 

“…w-want- god- please, don’t…”

so you wait, feeling guilty again, but of course, he doesn’t mean do nothing- you realize moments later, he’s just begging you to slow down.

“i didn’t want to ask,” xavier continues throatily, gently lifting you off of him to roll down the waistband of his own sweatpants. “i didn’t want you to think i’d be disappointed if you said no.”

you smile at him, sick at how sweet he is. “i want to. please.”

he’s kissing you as he finally kicks off his sweatpants- you feel him buck his hips up as only his underwear remains. maybe, if you could see anything, you would have lingered in this moment a little longer. but you’re barely any help as he kicks those off, too; uses his own strength to hold your hips in the air over him, not setting you down.

“are you sure?” xavier pants.

“i am extremely sure.”

he inhales shakily and leans forward to press you to his chest, adjusting himself under you; then he sets you down, lowers you onto his cock. 

both of you gasp; you inhale so sharply it stings. you can’t see him, can’t see anything but his blown-out pupils- but you’re full, completely, as he takes your hips in his hands and asks:

“are you tired?”

his voice is trembling, but not desperate; he’s trying not to buck up into you, you’re sure. 

you can’t lie, so all you do is nod. your entire body buzzes, your head swims; you are exhausted, but you do want him.

xavier nods, pressing a kiss to the plane between your breasts. “that’s okay. just relax.”

and he is ridiculous for saying this, because then, he begins to move you himself; sliding you up an down on his length, slowly and gracefully at first- until you moan over him, and he seems to crack, bouncing you up and down to his liking.

“x-xavier…” you whine, but he’s relentless. 

your hands landing on his chest as you droop forward only egg him on. he presses one hand flat to your back, forcing you to collapse onto him, then goes back to moving your hips. he’s pounding into you, his breath and his voice strangled and fast in your ear, but his heart still beats slowly in his chest- the rhythm of it is intoxicating to you. you listen, one ear pressed into the space between his collarbones: 1…2…3…

you realize, now, that the slow heartbeat is just what’s providing his inhuman stamina: he’s anything but calm. 

“you don’t know…” xavier murmurs, rocking in and out of you, sounding very far away. “you don’t even know…”

“know what?” you manage. 

“how much i think about you. how much i want you- you don’t…”

he sits up suddenly, your head draping over his shoulder, and continues to move you up and down; hot inside you. your legs are practically numb. the coil in your stomach tightens and releases, threatening to unfurl; you’re not sure how long it’s been. your head falls back and xavier catches it, pausing to press kisses to the column of your throat. you squirm, now settled onto his lap again; cock still inside you. 

xavier grabs your hips and seems to be restraining himself from holding you still.

“if you do that, i can’t- i’ll-”

you know what he’s going to say, so you keep doing it. xavier latches on to your neck with his mouth as you grind on top of him, exhausted, but it’s enough. one of his arms is still looped around your waist, squeezing the flesh of your hip. the other draws tracks through your hair, and stops to grab a fistful at the top of your head; you moan, but he doesn’t release you- clearly not knowing his own strength, how tightly he’s gripping you. 

that’s it for you; the sensation low in your belly blooms as his cock twitches inside you.

he bites down on your shoulder when he cums. not nearly hard enough to hurt (he would never), but it’s so unbridled and unexpected that you come undone on top of him moments later; allowing him to squeeze you to him and pull you both back to lay flat on the sofa.

for a moment, there is only quiet rain and heavy breathing. xavier lifts his hand to pluck the hair out of your face again, running his fingers over those same lines on your cheeks that he must be able to see through the dark- how unfair, it is, that he’s been able to see practically the whole time, and you’ve been nearly blind.

a clap of thunder bursts somewhere in the distance. you’re busy panting, pawing around for xavier’s face in the dark.

“see? you’re not even thinking about the thunder anymore,” he breathes. “you must have had a good distraction.” and then, both endeared and confused, he asks, “what are you looking for?”

“i’m trying to find your head so i can smack you.”

[lovexdeepspace]

hi! can you pls do an alternative version of the breakup of the l&ds men?? instead of making up and forgiving them, reader just flat out rejects them and kicks them out or reader has found someone new and the boys get a taste of their own medicine??

also love your work!!

“life without you.” (v2)

summary; once your trust is broken, there’s nothing xavier, zayne, or rafayel can do to undo the damage they’ve done.

warnings; angst, sadness, heartbreak

note; as much as i — along with others — needed a happy ending to the original post, the itch to do this was in the back of my head and i’m glad others wanted it too! ( credit to @neverlandlostchild for helping me immensely with this idea, i am so so grateful towards them and @noclue-0 for advocating for this idea alongside anon!! )

!! divider by @cafekitsune !!

part 1 | happier ending

༊*·˚ . xavier

curled up on the couch with remote in hand, you were absentmindedly scrolling through movies when there was a loud knock at your door.

food’s finally here, you thought excitedly while kicking the blanket off your legs. you grabbed your wallet and fished out a ten to tip the driver before heading to the door.

“thank you so — much.”

the last word fell flat as you opened the door only to find xavier standing there. he looked at you with half-lidded, tired eyes and a tight-lipped grimace as you took in the shell of a man standing before you.

his clothes were wrinkled and stained; his hair was messy and it was evident he hadn’t showered in at least a couple of days. his cheeks were red and tear-stained and you couldn’t help but think that he looked downright pitiful.

“xavier, what’re you doing here?” you asked, pocketing the money before crossing your arms over your chest. “i thought i made myself clear.”

the blonde rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “i know but i just couldn’t get you off my mind. i miss you and what we had.”

you raised a brow at him. “things with her didn’t work out?”

“she doesn’t matter,” xavier retorted with a frown. he stepped closer to you and you stepped back just as fast. “you’re all that matters to me and —”

he stopped as a voice behind you called your name and, a moment later, a pair of arms wrapped around your waist from behind. you felt your face flush as sylus pressed a kiss to your cheek.

“food’s here?” he asked you as his eyes moved from you to xavier. noticing the lack of food and the subdued yet very evident fury in xavier’s eyes, he quickly added, “guess not.”

“i’m —” xavier started but you held up a hand to cut him off.

“i think it’s best if you left, xavier,” you interrupted, leaning back against sylus. “we’re trying to have a relaxing evening.”

xavier faltered, giving you an incredulous stare before nodding slowly. “right. i guess i’ll leave, then.”

you gave him an unenthusiastic half-wave and shut the door in his face, leaving him alone in the hallway of your apartment building.

he felt the hot sting of tears in his eyes as he heard you and sylus laughing about something behind the closed door before forcing himself to walk away.

༊*·˚ . rafayel

with the days finally getting warmer you refused to stay holed up in your apartment all the time, often opting for outings to the park for some fresh air.

on a particularly fateful day, you were standing in the shade of a beautiful cherry blossom tree, admiring the picnic you had set up so perfectly. with your hands on your hips you racked your mental checklist, making sure everything was set out and ready for your —

“well, well, long time no see.”

shit.

pinching the bridge of your nose, you didn’t even bother to look over your shoulder as you addressed rafayel with a dull, “what do you want?”

rafayel clicked his tongue, sidling up to you. “aww, c’mon, that’s no way to treat your favorite artist.”

“you say that as if you have any right to be my favorite anything,” you retorted, side-eyeing him with a frown. he was watching you with that usual cocky grin but you could tell time had not been the kindest to him — dark circles under his eyes, unkempt hair, and this awful odor that made you gag as he moved closer.

“about that,” he muttered, trying (and failing) to put on that usual innocent guise that would’ve had a more naive version of you falling head over heels, “it’s been a while since i’ve last seen you. i’ve changed, i promise. i’ll be a better —”

“you won’t be anything, not to me at least,” you snapped, stepping away from him. “go run back to whatever her name is, since you wanted her so bad. i’m waiting for someone and don’t need you scaring them away looking like a lost puppy.”

rafayel staggered backwards at your harsh words, his demeanor changing as the idea of you seeing someone else really sunk in.

“who are you —”

“ah, fuck.”

rafayel’s jaw clenched as he slowly turned, eyes ablaze as they settled on thomas. his manager offered a sheepish grin before quickly heading to your side, muttering an apology to you.

“i can’t believe this,” the artist hissed, looking between the two of you. you shrugged nonchalantly and drove the point further by placing your hand in thomas’, slotting your fingers between his. “you - and you —!!”

“you made your choice,” you said plainly. “now, would you please leave? i’d like to enjoy my afternoon.”

rafayel gaped at you before muttering something under his breath, turning on his heel and storming away. the last thing he needed was for you to see the way tears had started to form in his eyes or the ugly sobbing that came seconds later as soon as he was out of sight.

༊*·˚ . zayne

you had finally found some balance in your life, a rarity that you held onto desperately. things had finally calmed down months after your breakup with zayne and you had bounced back in ways you didn’t even imagine.

hell, you even found yourself putting yourself out there and — with your newfound confidence — things were going really well for you!

so well, in fact, that you were sitting in the destiny cafè with a book in hand while you waited for your partner to return with your order. so captivated by the text, you didn’t look up when the chair across from you was once again occupied. it was only when the occupant said your name did you grimace and take a mental note of the page number before closing the book and setting it down in front of you.

“gods i do not have the energy to talk to you right now,” you said bluntly, putting your head in your hands. “or ever, for that matter.”

“well, hello to you as well,” zayne replied, sitting up straighter in his chair as you took your hands away to glare at him. “you look beautiful.”

“i know,” you deadpanned. giving him a once-over, you can’t see much difference from the last time you saw him save for the fact he looks more sleep deprived than usual. “now, let me be direct: i don’t want to talk to you.”

zayne sighed. “fine, but i need to talk to —”

he was cut off by the soft thunk! of two mugs being firmly set down on the table.

“here you are, pipsqueak.” caleb slid one mug in your direction with a sweet smile then turned to zayne. his expression quickly became menacing hidden behind a fake smile. “i’d say it’s nice to see you again, zayne, but i’m about three seconds from punching your face in. get out of my seat and leave my partner alone.”

zayne’s jaw clenched as he looked from caleb to you. “i just need to talk to them.”

caleb laughed and leaned in a little the smile dropping from his face. “you don’t need to do anything, zayne. so how about you get out of my seat and go yap to that girl you were getting all handsy with, hm?”

the air was thick and you could only watch with a smirk as zayne stood and quickly exited the cafè. caleb reclaimed his seat and reached across the table to give your hand a reassuring squeeze.

“you okay?” he asked, grabbing his mug with his other hand and taking a sip.

you nodded and squeezed his hand in return. “better now.”

[zaephix]

carry me to tomorrow / / xavier , zayne , & rafayel . . .

loving him can feel like a multitude of things

a/n: having severe brainrot over these men, smb save me. rlly random but i got a 96 on my physics test everybody clap!! (can you tell who my favorite is)

loving XAVIER feels like waking up at dawn and watching the sun and moon up in the sky at the same time. with you looking at the view with heavy eyes as the shades of blue and black fade to warm tones of orange and yellow, exchanging greetings with the moon. you're reminded of the sun as you stare at his peaceful face, his grey-blonde hair messy, making his skin look even softer. with a content sigh, you crawl back into his embrace and he welcomes you with a hum.

loving XAVIER feels like staring at the clouds and getting carried away by your daydreams. even when the both of you are on missions, you can't seem to take your eyes off of him (whether it's for romantic reasons or skeptical reasons - your choice). just as the clouds hide the blue sky, it feels like he hides himself as well, choosing instead to appear as a dull blob. you've asked XAVIER about himself more times than you can count, and yet he still chooses to stay quiet. you've nothing but your imagination at this rate. however, both of you know that one day the clouds will fade, revealing the deep, rich, and true colors hidden away. time will tell.

finally, loving XAVIER feels like spring. like the fresh grass and the fresh rain, like the blooming flowers and the bright rays. spring is a new beginning, for the earth and people alike. with XAVIER, everything and nothing feels new. you feel like you've done this with him a thousand times before, and yet you're pleasantly surprised each time. as the song birds celebrate the arrival of spring, you and XAVIER lie in the grass. nothing is exchanged between the two of you - just your time. with each passing second, your eyes begin to close again. and just as your vision was fading, you heard soft snores and mumbles of your name.

loving ZAYNE feels like going home at dusk, wondering what he's up to. the day ends with orange and red hues up in the sky, the moon readying itself for nightfall. you know he has a tendency to get caught up in work too often than not. and you wonder if you're overstepping your boundaries once you're at the doorstep of his office. what you didn't know was that even through the long and boring days at the hospital, he debated with himself on whether or not to call you. loving ZAYNE feels like moments when the sun paints everything in orange, gold hues - short, but sweet moments worth remembering.

loving ZAYNE feels like trying to navigate through the fog. fog feels uncertain, the chill sending goosebumps down your arm. the mist feels as though it's coercing you to join it away from the safety of your car. and in times like these you're reminded of how ZAYNE's morning coffee fogs his reading glasses. the same way you chuckle before taking them off of him and wiping them. you don't notice, but the black haired man now looks at you fondly - the steam from his coffee now subsided.

finally, loving ZAYNE feels like the transition from autumn to winter. the days of colorful leaves and cool wind over with. the beginning of winter marks its arrival through the fragile and stiff trees, the wind blowing through them as though they miss the kisses they'd share with the leaves. the days are getting shorter and the nights are longer. although the beginning of winter signifies hibernation and hiding, you can't help but love it. nights with ZAYNE are spent in bed cuddled in blankets and pillows as you both read books together. you never really cared for the books but rather the man that is clinging to you in a fashion he would never reveal in public. you had no problem with it. you'd love him in private and in public, through the winter storm and the chilly mornings. and just as your vision was fading, you felt a sigh against your skin and hands tucking you in, getting you ready for your dreams.

loving RAFAYEL feels like midnight escapades, brought on by midnight phone calls. the night is pitch black, save for the few street lights on your way from your apartment to his studio and the glowing moon. it's a vulnerable hour, crickets chirping and the white noise of the few cars going down streets the only music of the night. but as soon as you're met with his cheeky smile, you seem to forget the eeriness. your dazed nods as he goes on to rant about his problem or his painting - whichever one it was. it was only when you yawned when he invited you to rest in his too-big-of-a-bed. you had no idea if that was his intention or not, but any intelligible thoughts were hushed as the lights dimmed and the mattress below you dipped from the added weight.

loving RAFAYEL feels like the dew that paints the grass in the late nights and early mornings. you observe from the cover of his patio as he sinks his feet into the grass, seemingly in deep thought about something. you supposed it was his creative process, however odd it may be. the sun is almost blinding as it rises again and tiny rainbows form as if to say hello. he was still rooted in place. you think he invites you over, however you were distracted. the moisture of the air reminds you of how with RAFAYEL moments are quiet, just like how the grass quietly embraces the oncoming dew - an old friend.

finally, loving RAFAYEL feels like summer. like the hot atmosphere and the ice-cream melting on your tongue and fingers. like the never ending sky and the vibrant butterflies flapping their wings. loving RAFAYEL feels like the vigor the waves have for the sand under the hot gaze of the sun. and yet, you can never get a second of peace with all of his exhibitions gaining popularity. loving RAFAYEL means that summer nights is all you can afford to yourselves, the rush of the day still struggling to fade away. sitting on the sand, the white noise of the waves crashing over the earth lull you in a trance. and just as your vision was fading you saw dusky purple hair and violet amber eyes come closer, the feeling of lips against your temple sending you off.

[lilisettean]

Can you write more zayne x reader and implied!caleb? I’m a Zayne’s girlie and love to see more of the love triangle and dynamics between them three 🫣

(and let’s pretend Caleb’s still alive)

Hey! Sorry if this is delayed, was really busy recently so haven't updated much. And yes, I will write more of that love triangle! Jealousy is my jam and I LOVE it (in fiction ofc). I'm just waiting for Caleb to come back to have a bit more insight into his character and see if the game explores on their dynamic at some point!

For now though, please have this drabble and I hope you will like it :)

Custom Made | Zayne/Reader + Caleb/Reader

About: Zayne never minded paying for you. If anything, he liked buying you gifts; and if given the chance, he would gladly spoil you. However, he hadn't realized that he wasn't the only one.

Pairings: Zayne/Reader, Caleb/Reader

Notes: A somewhat part 2 to Unspoken Rivalry! Can be read separately though. Still follows the events of the Valentine's event but not by much.

AO3: Read here!

Warnings: Implied love triangle.

Zayne wandered around your apartment as he waited for you to get ready for the banquet. This was hardly the first time he had ever been to your place, but he hadn’t had the time to look around then. Usually you were ready by the time he even considered looking around. So when you claimed you needed more time to look presentable and told him to make himself at home while he waited, Zayne nodded and told you to ask if you were to need help or a second opinion.

Not that you needed it anyway. Zayne was sure whatever you did, you would look stunning.

But Zayne understood why you needed time. If the situation was reversed and you asked him to accompany you to some event wherein he would meet your colleagues, he would’ve taken time to pick a suitable and flattering outfit as well. Hence why he was now walking around your apartment, taking in your tastes and interests as he waited patiently.

Your place was very much… you, he found. A large plushie here, a few cushions and a throw blanket there. Combined with the fresh flowers and natural lighting you preferred, this place felt homely; a stark contrast to his modern and sleek, yet somehow impersonal, residence. 

Stepping away from the balcony, Zayne was about to approach the mirror perched on the cabinet to examine his appearance when something caught his eye. 

It was a lone empty photo frame settled next to the mirror, and under it, was an assortment of pictures taken. 

Unable to stifle his curiosity, Zayne gathered up the scattered photos and shuffled through them. There was one with Grandma Josephine, a few with whom he recognized as your colleagues, one with a sleeping blond hair man with squiggles drawn all over his face, and one with a famous painter whose name he cannot recall at that moment. 

What made him pause the longest while examining however, was one with your mutual childhood friend, Caleb. You two stood side by side in front of a house, his arm around your shoulder while you tucked your hair behind your ear, caring not to have it tangled with your earring, and smiled for whoever– Josephine perhaps– was behind the camera.

Normally Zayne would’ve continued on, looking through the other photos as if he had not seen it and pointedly ignoring the fleeting what ifs that spawned in his mind. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t stop staring at the look Caleb had on his face, his mind unable to stop thinking at what the soft smile on his face meant while he was looking at you, instead of facing the camera.

Caleb gazed at you as though you were the only person that mattered, as though you were the only reason for his entire existence. 

Zayne knew that look. He had seen it on countless people’s faces. On his patients, on his colleagues… and even on himself, on a picture with you. The same picture he had secretly used as your chat background.

He didn’t know how long he stood there, staring at the picture as though he could burn it with his gaze alone, until you snuck up to him, peering at what he had on his hands.

“What are you looking at?” Your voice snapped him out of his suffocating thoughts, his form rigid as your hand came contact with his. 

“You okay?” You asked, gasping when you felt his icy fingers against yours as you turned the picture towards you. The edges of it were coated with tiny ice crystals, its frost melting away as you wiped it. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing.” Zayne replied after shaking his head, purging his mind of the coiling jealousy that took root. The past did not matter; you were here with him now, instead of with Caleb.

“Are you ready to go?” Zayne asked after flipping over the picture and slipping it under the pile. He awkwardly sidestepped your question, hoping that you would pick up on his reluctance and drop the matter entirely. He quietly sighed in relief when the dubious look on your face changed, replaced with a hesitant smile.

“Yes. What do you think? Am I overdressed or under dressed?” 

Zayne watched as you stepped back to allow him a better look at your outfit. Despite your protests, he had paid for the dress and heels in full, citing that it was only right for him to provide as he was the one who added you to the guest list. 

“You needn’t worry about that. You look immaculate.” Zayne said after giving you a once over, pleased that the dress he had picked out for you was to your tastes and suited you perfectly. He would’ve chosen accessories that would’ve gone well with the dress as well, if it weren’t for your insistence that you had the perfect match for it already. 

Well, Zayne took the liberty to pick out an accessory for you anyway as a gift. But that was not the focus now. 

Speaking of which… “Those earrings suit you well.” He stated as he admired the visage before him. The pair of earrings you chose were elegant in its design, subtly accentuating your features whilst drawing people in. It was as though they were tailor made for you and you only.

Despite having never seen you wear them before, a sense of déjà vu settled in. He had seen them somewhere, but he couldn’t name where…

“Really? Thanks.” You replied with a laugh, unaware of his sudden fixation upon your earrings. “They were a gift.”

“From who?”

“From Caleb! It was a gift for passing the licensure exams!”

A gift? Caleb?

Something immediately clicked within him as soon as repeated those words to himself. The picture of you and Caleb quickly appeared in the forefront of his mind, linking the two seemingly unrelated pieces of info together.

Of course. The earrings you were wearing now were the same ones you wore in the picture. 

While you told Zayne how you unsuccessfully tried to figure out where Caleb got the gift from so you could pay him back, Zayne examined the earrings you wore with great scrutiny, wondering where Caleb had gone to purchase these while listening to your failed attempts at espionage. 

The earrings you wore had a unique charm to them, and lacked the sterility and sameness that came with other pieces seen in boutiques. Zayne quickly drew to the conclusion that these were not only custom ordered, but handmade as well, with how well made they were.

There were only a select few stores that did handmade jewelry in Linkon. And to this quality… There was only one place that would be able to craft such a timeless art piece.

Zayne had to admit– albeit reluctantly– if these earrings were ones that Caleb had chosen without any prompting, or even designed himself, he had quite the taste, and an excellent eye for what would suit you the most. 

“...Zayne?”

Zayne blinked, realizing that he had unconsciously leaned forward to inspect your earring in detail. Pulling his hand away after tucking your hair behind your ear once more, he straightened himself and replied. 

“I know where they are from.” He said, huffing in amusement when he saw your face lit up at his response. “No. It would be impolite of me to reveal that.” 

“But Zayne–”

Said man huffed in amusement as you tried to persuade him, citing that you wanted to repay Caleb somehow. But Zayne remained silent, only replying with a small smile. 

It would be a horrible idea to do so. Despite the earrings being a gift from someone his darker, more jealous side considered as a rival, it was not his place to speak of its origins. But that was not the main reason why he maintained his silence.

Zayne slipped a hand in his slacks’ pocket while you were busy getting ready to leave, thumbing over a slim velvet box that contained a ring commissioned from the same place Caleb went to for your earrings.

It would be quite troublesome if you were to figure out how much they had spent, and were willing to spend, for you, after all. 

[blorbocedes]

hi blorbo any lewis ham hair thoughts

that hair transplant is a godsend but I also think he was such a cute baldie 🥹

ranking my favourite lewis hair:

the 2017/18 tip dyed ombré curls with the fade on the side.... when he was letting his curls grow out without that tragic coiffed quiff he was sporting in 14/15. this is also the hottest lewis for me so im biased. I wont him

blonde locs in a double ponytail!!!! the sheer gaggery when he debuted the two blond ponytail. what if I fainted. this is peak babygirlism. it's also SUCH an upgrade of when he actually fried his hair bleaching it in 15

natural fro 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹 when he lets the girls breathe i need to impregnate him. sometimes he looks a little silly rabbit but that's my Wife

blondes do have more fun but I love his braids when they're tied up into a little bun or pony, and when he has that Single forehead braid out like zayn malik 2014 amas strand.....

honorary met gala hair because I love that he goes all out. there's been a few misses in the early years but I loved the 2019 headband moment and ofc the 2021 faux locs

I really enjoy that he experiments with his hair and style so much... esp since ron dennis mclaren era and during karting years he had to keep his hair short, so it's nice to see him play around with it once he got to grow it out.

honorary shoutout to baldwis. you may not have had hair but nicole still loved you 🥹🧑🏽‍🦲

[thedevilinmybrain]

Harry knows Louis has his reasons. He's heard all of them, listed out like one blow after another. The focus should be on the band, on the music, too much at stake. They can't be selfish, need to think about the rest of the boys, the fans. So many things weighing on them, should know better than to push back against management. Louis is the oldest so he needs to make the right choices, be a role model, be mature enough to know when enough is enough.

Louis talks and Harry can hear Simon's voice.

Standing against the wall, Harry presses the rim of the glass against his lips, can smell the vodka inside. It's expensive, served straight because Harry can't afford the calories, no sugar after seven. It's all part of the image, the routine to make Harry hotter, more attractive with a sharp jawline and thin waist. His hair is getting longer now, brushes against his jaw, a real Mick Jagger in his tight jeans and drawling accent, charming whomever he feels like. It doesn't mean shit when he's watching Louis wrap his arm around the shoulders of some up and coming.

He's pretty, Harry guesses, as far as aesthetics go. Big eyes and smooth skin, an upturned mouth in a smirk that makes him look a little impish. Louis is being bold tonight, no one that important around to side eye him, to shove a pretty blond in a mini dress into his lap. So, Louis is free to laugh into the guy's neck, face flushed red and drunk. His free hand has been on the guy's thigh for over an hour, holding him close, holding him down, with a ring on his finger that belongs on Harry's. Louis had said they had to break up because too many people were watching them, that it was a liability, that it just wasn't possible. But someone with a name the tabloids don't care about is safe, Harry guesses.

Jealousy is a fucking collar around his throat, chokes the air out of his lungs, drags him down like an anchor into the darkness, drowning him. Louis used to do that to him, to press their cheeks together, to keep Harry close and safe against his side. Always had to have his hands on Harry somehow, around his wrist, on his waist. But that was before Louis decided to start eating out of the hand that feeds them.

This morning, leaving the studio, Louis had held the door open for Harry and smiled at him, all big and bright and cooing at him. Come on, baby. Hurry up. Like it wasn't a punch to the gut when Louis is the one who told Harry he had to stop calling him that. When Louis is the one who set up the rules, who laid down the way it was going to be. And Harry has been trying to be so good, kept himself away, doesn't try to press or talk to him. Even when it feels like Harry's sawing off a limb every time Louis is in the room.

"Feels fucking rude," Niall mutters, digs his fingers into his own cup, tugging out a cherry. "Over there flaunting it."

"Niall," Harry sighs, takes another sip of his own drink. Across the room, Louis takes the pipe from Zayn, holds it up to show his newest friend.

"Well? It fucking is. I know you all broke up and shit, but honestly? To do it here?" Waving his hand at the center of the room, Niall's top lip curls. "Fucked, mate. Really fucked."

Niall is right. They're in one of the public houses that the label owns, all blase designs and inconsequential art on the walls. But it's still in front of their friends, some of the crew, all the lads. Harry can't remember ever feeling so on the outskirts of the people he considers family, so fucking lonely in his own skin.

"You're Harry fucking Styles," Niall hisses, venomous and angry. He's felt like this since he heard the news, had been the one to pull Harry out of that bathtub, soaked through his clothes, wine drunk and sobbing. Louis doesn't know any of it, but Niall does.

"It was almost Tomlinson." Harry mutters, takes the rest of his drink in one shot, rolls off the wall to stalk towards the stairs. He hasn't worked up the ability to charge across the room yet, to stand his ground, to call Louis out on his shit. No, not yet. So, Harry prefers to have his meltdown behind closed doors, to cry his eyes sore and try to rub the tattoos off his skin.

[inzedits]

• if you use or save please like :) x

[watermelonsugacry]

Hello! I'm sorry if this is bothering you but can you write something abt Harry falling for bandmate!yn and Y/N interacting with the boys while in the band? Again, Im sorry if I'm annoying

A Race To The Brits

A/N: Had this little blurb in my files so thought it fit the prompt :) and you: not annoying 💚 oh and...THANK YOU FOR 500+ FOLLOWERS?? I LOVE YOU ALL MUCH TYSM

SUMMARY: It should be known that Harry falls in love with YN multiple times, over and over again, throughout the years. One of the times he realizes he's falling for her is at the 2014 Brit Awards. (1.9k)

GENRE: 1dbandmember!reader

MASTERLIST

The boys are getting ready in their green room while YN is getting dressed in the room adjacent to theirs. As their styling team wraps up doing some finishing touches, they turn their heads to a knock at the door. YN peaks her head inside with a hand hovering over her eyes, careful not to mess up her freshly done make up.

"I better not see any weenies out." 

"Eh, wait." Louis jests, making a dramatic sound with his zipper. "Alright, you're good."

Harry's breath gets caught up in his throat when YN fully comes into the room. She has her hair curled up and tied in a messy low bun, some strands of hair framing her face. Her dress is essentially all mesh with a bustier.

She looks absolutely stunning, he thinks. And her smile, ugh that smile. It's enough to make his knees buckle if he wasn't leaning on a couch to put his shoes on.

YN puts her hands on her hips and looks around at the rest of the band. "Well don't you all look absolutely dashing."

"And yeh actually look like a girl." Zayn jokes only to retrieve a middle finger in return.

"Piss off," She chuckles before nodding over to the blonde lad. "How's the knee, babe?"

Niall shrugs as he grips his crutches. "S'alright. Once we get to our table with the booze, it'd be even better."

"I'm sure it will." YN giggles. The rest of the people in the room go back to their previous conversations but, as disgustingly cheesy as it sounds, he can’t seem to take his eyes off of her. That is until she meets his eyes and he feels like he’s back in primary school, embarrassed that he was caught looking at his crush. 

Especially when YN makes her way over to him after his stylist finishes him up and he breathes out a, "Hey." 

“Hey. Oh, lemme get that for you." Before he can even process what's happening, YN reaches out and adjusts the collar of his dress shirt. She’s so close to him that when he breathes in her vanilla perfume he might combust.

He wants to kick himself for feeling a bit of heat rise to his cheeks. He has screaming fans try to come onto him all the time, he can literally have anyone at the drop of a hat, so why does he get all flustered by this one girl? This beautiful, stubborn girl. "Thanks, lovie."

"What would you do without me?" She gives him an amused smile as she dusts off some lint from his shoulders. How's he supposed to act normal while she looks up at him like that?

"Don't even wanna think about tha’. You look really beau—"

"Alright kids, let's go!" Paul says while entering the room. Harry's both irritated and thankful for the interruption. He's always trying to find that balance of whether or not his compliments to her every now and then are from a place of platonic feelings or more.

YN raises her eyes at Harry, giving him a smirk. "Show time."

Harry knows that he shouldn't think about her in that way, he’s reminded nearly everyday by their check-ins with management, analyzing them individually by looking at their interviews, performances on stage, etc. Telling him to keep his eyes on the crowd, the interviewer, literally anyone else but on her.

Why can't he be like the other guys? Like now, as the rest of the band walks in front of him down the venue halls, Louis brings an arm up behind her and taps her opposite shoulder. When she looks back and sees no one there, she turns to a laughing Louis and shoves his shoulder. 

The others see her as a little sister, and while at times he does too, he knows he feels something a little more than sibling love.

Do the other boys get a little heart-eyed when they watch her smile and wave at the fans at the barricade outside the venue?

Or get butterflies in their stomachs when they feel her hand on their backs when they're on the red carpet, posing and looking out at the paparazzi?

Or have their heart beats quicken when she squeezes his arm in a form of gratitude after making her a sweet drink once they’ve been seated at their designated table?

Probably not.

“M’gonna go to the loo.” Harry leans over to YN, already pushing out his chair.

“Wait, can I come with? Need to stretch my legs.” He extends a hand out to her with a nod in the general direction of where the backstage entrance is at.

Before she can fully get out of her seat, Liam quickly reaches out and grabs a hold of her wrist. “You guys can’t leave without Paul.”

“Chill out, Daddy Direction. We’ll be back in two minutes.” 

YN shrugs him off before her and Harry navigate down the halls of the venue. The sound of the announcer sounds through the speakers around the building, but they begin talking and laughing so much that they don’t even hear that they were nominated for anything.

“Hey, um, I didn’t get a chance to say it earlier but you, eh, you look really beautiful tonight.” Harry says, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his trousers from keeping to reach out and brush a strand of hair away from her face.

Whenever he tends to give charming compliments to someone like this, the blush usually rushes to their cheeks in an instant, teeth biting down on their bottom lip to keep the giddy smile from forming on their face. It happens so often that he’s left waiting for it to happen to her. 

But he never gets it. What he does get is an eye roll and a finger pressed to his dimpled cheek.

“Y’such a sap. Did y’know that?” 

And there he goes again, falling head over heels for a girl he could never have.

“Do you want anything from the vending machine?” 

“Haribos, if they have ‘em please.” Harry says as he scurries over to the loo. He really does have to go to the restroom.

YN takes out her little stash of money from her bustier and shoves it in the machine full of snacks.

“And the winner is…” 

YN watches as the little metal spiral retracts itself and the bag of gummies gets pushed off its little ledge. 

“One Direction!”

“Yay.” YN says to herself as the bag falls to the bottom of the machine with a thud. She can sometimes have the worst of luck when it comes to these machines. 

YN remembers a time on tour last year where one of these machines at the venue the band was performing at had eaten her dollar without having been given her snack. She smiles fondly at the memory of how the boys offered their help and began to shake the whole machine—. 

YN furrows her eyebrows and tries to rack her brain as to why she feels so off.

She turns her head to the sound of the restroom door opening and sees Harry popping his head from the loo, his confused expression mirrors her own.

“Did we—?”

“Was our—?”

Paul comes bursting through one of the hallway doors with a worried expression. “What the hell are you guys doing?”

“Snacks.” YN points to the machine in front of her, still trying to figure out what just happened. 

“Get your bums on stage right now!” 

Harry turns his head towards her with a tilt of his head. “Are we performing tonight?”

“You guys won! Come on, you two. Hurry!” Paul frantically waves his hand for the two teenagers to follow him. 

“Really?” YN says excitedly, putting her hands over her chest. Harry quickly bursts from the loo and wraps his arms around her. He lifts YN up and gives her a spin as they both laugh in giddiness, congratulating each other.

“Let’s go!” Paul presses on.

With her heels in one hand, YN holds the length of her dress with the other as she prepares herself for the run. Before the three of them completely go through the door, she suddenly remembers something.

“Wait!” YN turns back around and quickly shoves her hand through the metal flap of the vending machine and grabs her snacks.

A laugh tumbles past Harry’s lips as she races back to them while Paul looks like he’s about to pass a brick. 

“We’ve lost the curly headed ones.” Liam’s voice comes through the venue speakers above them. After rounding a couple corners, they finally arrive at the big room where everyone is waiting. Side by side, YN and Harry run to the stage with big smiles on their faces. 

“There they are!” Liam yells in excitement. They both fly up the stairs and are greeted by the other boys, the audience members cheering along at their arrival. Her and Harry shamelessly wave at the crowd as they attempt to catch their breath.

“I’m really sorry I was having a wee.” Harry says out of breath once Liam hands him the microphone. YN raises up their snack by her head like a trophy before placing it on top of the podium next to their Brit award. She grabs onto Zayn’s shoulder and begins to put her heels back on.

“Professional, as always.” Louis says in a whisper, leaning over Zayn. Both of them have smirks on their faces. 

“It’s what ’m known for.” YN snickers back, straightening up and adjusting the bottom of her dress.

“The loos are ages away. Eh, what did we win?” Harry leans over to YN while doing a horrible job at being discreet with his question as the microphone is still slightly below his mouth. 

YN gently puts her hands on top of his, the one that's holding the microphone, as she brings it closer to her mouth.

"Um, we just wanna say a massive thank you to our fans. You guys are the best fans in the world and we are so happy to have you guys supporting us. Thank you so much!"

And with that the audience claps and cheers as the band leaves the stage.

YN seems unbothered by their shangagins or the fact that they might get a good scolding later by their management as they get escorted backstage, opening up the bag of Haribos.

She looks at him with raised eyebrows, a hand midway towards her mouth with a little gummy between her fingers. The corners of her lips start to curl up in an open mouthed smile and Harry might as well just float away on Cloud 9.

"Did yeh even wash your hands?"

Of course he did but he decides to tease her just to hear her laugh.

He gives her a shrug of shoulders, reaching for the bag. "Does it matter?" YN is quick to pull the candies back.

"Harry!" A giggle tumbles past her lips. "That's nasty! I just touched your hands."

"Wait, think there might be something on your face." His chest swells up as she ducks away from him, laughing and gripping his wrist to keep from coming in contact with her face.

He doesn't care if he gets in trouble later because having her here, an arm around her waist, her nose scrunching up in the cutest way possible, and her laughter sounding like music to his ears, is completely and utterly worth it.

Taglist:

@wobblymug @be-with-me-so-happily @ashtongivesmebutterflies @kiwiskiwiskiwi @darlingdesire @obsesseddd @hopefulwastelandcreation @cacapeepee @breezie-b00 @harrysfolkloreore @theekyliepage @sunshinemoonsposts @nervousspiderling

[louisrarepairfest]

Louis Rare Pair Fest 2023

[A rare pair fest for all Louis Tomlinson rare pairs! Thank you to all of this year's amazing writers! Please remember to leave kudos and comments on these rare pair fics if you read and enjoy them! We'll be back in 2024 for another round!] And a massive thank you to all of the rare pair readers as well!

/// M A S T E R P O S T ///

✦ lonely in [paris] by f_ckromeoandjuliet / @louiesonlyangel

[T, 5k, Louis/Awsten Knight, fic post]

Summer flings are complicated and healing comes from the strangest places. // Alternate version of Louis's tour where he's in a secret relationship with Awsten Knight from Waterparks. Based on Awsten tweeting at Louis.

✦ Crush by @allwaswell16

[T, 1k, Louis/Niall, fic post]

When Niall stops smiling around the office, his co-worker Louis sets out to lift his mood with the help of their office mates.

✦ Feeling Feline by LadyAJ_13 / @ladyaj-13

[T, 4k, Louis/Niall, fic post]

“I’m telling you,” drifts through the cracked door, and Louis’ ears prick, twitching with interest. “There’s something wrong with that cat.” “Have you talked to Liam?” asks another voice, worried. Louis thinks it’s the tall one with curly hair. Taller one. They’re all tall when you’re ten inches high. “Not medically wrong,” the blond one says. “But I swear, and I know this sounds nuts, but I don’t think he’s a cat?”

✦ must be love by @nouies

[NR, 6k, Louis/Andrew Garfield, fic post]

AU where Louis doesn’t know how to approach his neighbour, and Andrew keeps receiving homegrown vegetables at his door.

✦ Got My Chaos Automatic by LetTheMusicMoveYou / @letthemusicmoveyou28

[E, 3k, Louis/Zayn/Liam, fic post]

Louis shrugs his shoulders as nonchalantly as he can manage in his aroused state. “Let you stay in my house didn’t I?” He narrows his eyes at the spliff still between Liam’s fingers. “Let you smoke my weed. Seems like a fair trade to me.” Liam raises a brow challengingly. His expression is mostly unimpressed, but even from the other side of the room, Louis can still see the glint in Liam’s eyes. He likes it when Louis makes him work for it too. Zayn chuckles darkly. “Looks like someone came home with an attitude. What’s wrong Lou? No one on the road with you that could put you in your place hmm?” (Or the one where Louis comes home from tour feeling exhausted, yet antsy. Luckily, Liam and Zayn are there to put him back together).

✦ it's the summer of our love by localopa / @voulezloux

[G, 3k, Louis/Ryan Ross, fic post]

ryan is in love with his best friend and gym bro, louis. the problem? ryan is straight.

✦ softer than satin by cinnamons / @sunbellylou

[E, 4k, Louis/Joel Miller (The Last of Us), fic post]

“Wanna go back to bed,” Louis whispered languidly, voice partly muffled by his boyfriend’s lips on his. “Mm, but we just got up, baby,” Joel murmured. Lips touching softly with each syllable. Hands groping the soft flesh around Louis’ hips, kneading at the skin there and feeling his curves.

✦ Daydream by @allwaswell16

[T, 2k, Louis/Zayn, fic post]

Every Thursday, Louis nods hello to her fellow regulars at Horan’s Cafe, one of whom is the woman of her dreams.

✦ One by @allwaswell16

[E, 4k, Louis/Tommy Shelby (Peaky Blinders), fic post]

When omega Louis Tomlinson becomes pregnant after an unexpected encounter, he decides his only option is to flee his pack. But Tommy Shelby, pack alpha of the Peaky Blinders, might not be willing to let him go so easily.

✦ Chaos by @haztobegood

[M, 100 words, Louis/OMC (bodyguard), fic post]

Against the barricade, it’s complete chaos.

✦ Baking Memories by @haztobegood

[T, 2k, Louis/Jack Cochrane (The Snuts), fic post]

After a long day of songwriting, Jack convinces Louis to bake mince pies together.

✦ Jump! by @reminiscingintherain

[M, 15k, Louis/Tommy Longhurst (Only the Poets), fic post]

He let out a noise of surprise as his arms were suddenly full of a sweaty body, as Tommy threw himself at Louis and held on tightly. “Thank you so fucking much,” he muttered against Louis’ shoulder, squeezing a little. “You have no idea how much this means to us.” Louis softened a little, gently tapping Tommy’s back. “I absolutely know what this means, lad,” he replied, his voice gentle and supportive. “The way you’re reacting to being out there? That’s exactly why I chose you for the support slot.” He gave a reassuring squeeze. “You deserve this, okay?” He pulled back a little, gripping the back of Tommy’s neck and looking him in the eyes. “You deserve this.”

[tinydeskwriter]

Traitor: Who’s in My Bathroom

singer!reader

PART ONE

summary: just a little extra till part two. or, Y/n gets interviewed on her Grammy, her new record breaking EP, the end of her relationship with British Heartthrob Harry Styles, cheating, and her surprising pregnancy.  

word count: 2769

warning: angsty.

A/n: There is a especial participation by Hailey Bieber—because I love her—, Niall Horan, Zayn Malik, Dua Lipa, Gigi, Bella and Anwar Hadid are mentioned, Harry, Olivia and Jason too. This will kinda of put some light in how the break up happened, it’s Y/n version of what went down. On another note: you guys are giving me some amazing suggestions on who should be her next man, Michael B Jordan was a nice surprise, Chris Evans I kinda of imagined, Jack Harlow I wasn’t expecting, those three have been the most suggested and it's kind of even, I would like to throw in the mix Mark Ronson just because I find him pretty cute, he’s another known nice guy, and he’s in the music industry. et me know your favorite, and whoever shows up more is going to be the proud new man of a very gorgeous very talented Pop Icon.

Traitor Extra: Who’s in My Bathroom

“I think a lot of people probably want to know how we became friends.” Hailey said, they were making ice cream cookie sandwiches, all because Y/n had commented in their group chat that it was one of her biggest cravings during her pregnancy.

The singer was in a light blue linen top and long flow skirt ensemble with floral embroidery by Australian brand Fillyboo, a part of her pregnant belly adorably showing, her long hair in a braided crown and almost no makeup. She was impeccably beautiful with a maternal glow.

She was officially back in LA, and all the tabloids were reporting how she had bought a $20 million house in Chatsworth that formerly belonged to Frank Sinatra as her new home. 14 acres, two swimming pools and a sports court, with complete privacy and security, perfect for the Pop Icon to raise her baby in American territory. Of course, that was after reports that the 24 years old woman had bought a new £8 million home in London, close to Hyde Park.

“We met…it was through Gigi, and I met Gigi through Z, was it 2015? 2016?” Y/n looked at her friend, unsure of the right date. “It was right after the band went into a hiatus, and the guys started solo careers, I had just wrapped up my first world tour as a headliner, and we started spending more time in the States.”

At the time, she and Taylor Swift weren't really potential friends.

Y/n had met the singer around the time the older woman was dating Harry in 2012, and she and Harry started dating not long after Harry broke up with Taylor in 2013. It was safe to say that Y/n/n wasn't exactly welcome on the TS Squad.

Gigi ended up introducing her to her other friends, Hailey, Kendall, Kylie, and younger sister Bella, and they kind of became a group, with Hailey and Y/n naturally bonded over being the only ones not part of a sisterly duo.

“Gigi introduced you to the group...” Hailey nodded.

“We got really close because, well, Gigi always had Bella, Kendall had Kylie, we were the unpaired ones, and we kind of just started calling each other to hang out when we are in the same city.” Y/n commented with a smile, the sandwiches were ready. “This looks so good, you know this video is going to be just me eating, right?” The singer said.

Hailey laughed, lifting one of hers.

“Let's see if this tastes as good as it looks, cheers.” They smacked their ice cream sandwiches together as if it were a drink before taking their first bite.

Y/n moaned closing her eyes, making the blonde model laugh harder.

“That’s divine.” She looked at her friend. “I need to know where you bought this cookie.”

“As you are a very special guest, I made it myself.” Hailey said. “I’ll give you the recipe later.”

“I love you.” The singer said seriously, making her friend laugh.

They ate a whole ice cream sandwich for the cameras before Hailey went back to asking the questions.

“Recently there was the Grammy Awards.” The model said, eyeing her friend with a smile. “You took home five awards, being the most awarded artist of the night... how many Grammys do you have now, fifteen?”

Y/n had to contain the eye roll while Hailey contained the smile, Justin Bieber's wife knew exactly how many Grammys her friend had. How many times had they played around with the awards on drunken nights at the singer's house? Kendall and Hailey always came up with creative acceptance speeches that made the rest of the guests laugh themselves off the couch—Gigi had fallen off a high stool on one occasion—.

“Seventeen.” Y/n corrected with a small smile.

“And you also performed three new songs, Burned LA Down, Traitor and Good Enough, which are part of your EP Y/n Y/l/n Heartbreak Edition, Traitor became the most streamed song in the first 24 hours of release in Spotify's history... Which is really impressive, congratulations babe,” Hailey looked at her intensely, everything they were talking about had been discussed in advance. “The EP has a rather...melancholy theme.”

This time Y/n couldn't contain the eye roll at Hailey's subtleties, she had a smile on her face, which she knew wouldn't last long as they progressed with the subject. They were getting to the point where they needed to be. Y/n would not only talk about her successful EP, but also open up about the end of her relationship with Harry Styles. And she'd chosen Hailey, because she knew her friend would be empathetic, and stand by her corner, unlike everyone else who wanted an exclusive at the break up of the year —and boy, was Lia getting calls, radio hosts, tv hosts, even tell-all book deals—.

“We can be honest, the EP is about being cheated and left for someone else, and all the emotions and thoughts that come with that. Is pretty sad.” Y/n said with a small smile. “Some people talk bad about their ex on the internet, others write books, I'm a musician, I turned this painful experience into songs, I was surprised how fast the process was, it was therapeutic, I cried more than ever, everything was still very fresh in my memory.” She took a sip of the iced tea Hailey’s assistant brought her. “The ‘subject’ of those songs he’s not someone I was still getting to know when all that happened, it wasn't a brand new relationship, we've been together for nine years, we were engaged, we were renovating a house in London, we had plans to get married in 2022, we were trying to get pregnant.” The singer pointed to her growing belly.

“Did you suspect?”

“That he got into a affair with his much older director?” she asked with raised eyebrows, it was a rhetorical question, she knew exactly what Hailey was referring to. “No, I had no idea, we always planned our projects so that our schedules would fit around each other, Elvis was supposed to be filmed at the beginning of the year, but because of Covid, the filming was pushed to the end of 2020, he actually went with me to Australia, initially he was supposed to stay there with me until filming of My Policeman started in England this year, but then he joined this new movie project in September, because the original actor casted was fired, we were actively trying to make a baby, we talked about it, so it's safe to say the relationship wasn't on the rocks.” She made fun of what some blog ‘defending’ Holivia wrote. “He visited me in November, everything normal, nothing suspicious, nothing strange, we even talked about the plans for the wedding, my wedding gown was being designed by our friend, Alessandro Michele, that is the level of clueless about what was happening I was.” She gestured with her hands, a nervous habit. “It was a mutual friend of ours who first commented on their proximity, nothing even crossed my mind, I trusted him blindly, this is the man I am going to marry, I told this friend, I even defended her, can you imagine it? I went to dinner with her and her fiancé, I met her kids. I couldn't conceive of the idea that the two of them could be getting involved, emotionally, sexually or whatever…”

Harry and she had been having sex for the entire duration of her visit, no red flags had even hinted at what was to come. No text messages or calls at odd hours, no change in behavior, for all intents and purposes, he was still the guy who'd loved her since he was eighteen.

“When did you become suspicious?” Hailey questioned, because she already knew the story, she knew what was to come, and things only got worse.

“Her ex actually texted me by the end of November, she ended their more than a decade long relationship apparently out of the blue, and he was pretty sure something was happening between the two of them, and that's when I decided to talk with H, it was a video-call, and he completely dismissed the story.” She said with a bitter smile. “I already suspected I could be pregnant at the time, and this was the kind of news that is best given in person, silly me wanted him to be by my side when I took the pregnancy test, and a really small part of me was suspicious and wanted to see for myself what was going on.” Y/n controlled her own emotion by taking another sip of his tea. “What an idiot right? I wanted to surprise my fiancé but I was the one who got surprised.”

She could still vividly remember that day whenever she closed her eyes. She'd arrived in Los Angeles discreetly, James had given her spare keys to his Palm Springs house, and agreed to keep her arrival a surprise, he'd even commented that they should arrange to have dinner while she was in the country.

Hailey squeezed her friend's hand on the table in support.

“I got the key to the house he was staying in, it was another mutual friend of ours house in Palm Springs, we were engaged, we shared more than four houses, it was supposed to be a nice surprise, why wouldn't I get the key to the house he was staying, right?”

“Did you catch them both in the act?” the model asked wide-eyed.

She'd never heard the story in so many details before, and it was the first time Y/n herself was opening up to her, she'd learned everything from Gigi and Bella, not wanting to press the pregnant woman — of course, they had Y/n's permission, so  she didn't have to go on telling friend to friend what had happened—.

Y/n laughed lightly at her friend's expression.

“Not in the act, I didn’t caught them fucking, but she was there, it was too early to be a social visit, and she was only dressed in one of his shirts, I think you can imagine what they probably were doing before.” The singer shuddered just remembering the scene. “The best part? It was a DIY shirt I had sewn for him during quarantine...”

Hailey stared at her with her mouth open and eyebrows raised. “What a bastard! I’am sorry, but he is, and she is worthless… You know what? They both are garbage, stinking garbage.” She said the second part to the camera, Y/n almost laughed at how her friend—one of the sweetest and kindest people she knew—was so outraged for her that she called her ex and his current girlfriend ‘stinking garbage’. “What happened then?”

“She left, we talked, more like he spoke and I stood there without a reaction, I didn't know what to say, my entire world collapsed at that moment.” She said with teary eyes. “There was the guy I'd been with since I was sixteen, my first everything, my first kiss, my first boyfriend, my first sex, my best friend and the person I thought I'd marry, we had a life together, nine years when you're still in your mid-twenties is a long time, especially for this industry standard.” She took a moment to breathe. “And he’s saying a lot of things, and the only thing I can understand is that that's the end of our relationship, he wants to try new things, explore this new feeling, and in my head the only thing that translates is: you're not good enough for him.” Y/n accepted a tissue and dried the stubborn tears. “Two days later he was with her, they were a couple, officially dating, the same friend who first told me about them getting close called to tell me.” She learned that they were officially together because Glenne, not wanting her to be caught off guard when the news got out, informed her. “How can you claim to love someone and move on so fast? Cross that, he moved on when we were still together.”

The other woman shook her head in disapproval as some camera crew assistants dried their faces. It was difficult to exist and never have read an article about Harry Styles and Y/n Y/l/n, the it couple of the music industry, the British Heartthrob and the British Songbird.

“Did you tell him you thought you were pregnant?” Hailey asked, their hands still connected.

“At what point? After I had already being dismissed like old news? I left without looking back, I just wanted to cry for my broken heart and the death of my happiness in privacy.” Y/n boarded the first helicopter out of Palm Springs and back to Los Angeles.

“When did you confirm the pregnancy?”

“The day after he went public with her at his manager wedding, I was staying with the Hadid’s in Pennsylvania, I left LA and went straight to Zayn and Gigi, it got to the point that I could no longer ignore the very real possibility that I might be pregnant, I was positively panicking, I don’t have a family, so I would be completely alone if wasn’t for them, Zayn got in touch with Niall, they are both by my side when Gigi's midwife confirmed it and did my first ultrasound.” Y/n dried her face and tried to smile. “It was the most emotional and also the saddest moment of my life, naively I aways thought that I would have the love of my life by my side when I found out I am pregnant with our babies.”

“Have you tried to contact him after?” Hailey asked, even her eyes are watery by this point, the two were ignoring the cameras, just talking like they would if they were catching up.

“I tried calling once, as he wouldn’t reply my texts.” She said. “Niall insisted, but he was extremely cold, he spoke to me as if he had never loved me, as if I was nothing to him. He literally said we'd better keep in touch through our lawyers to sort it all out, he was pretty much talking only about the material stuff, because 'she' wasn't comfortable with the two of us keeping touch.” Y/n wiped away some insistent tears. “I didn't even recognize him, I was like, have I been drunk, have I been blind our entire relationship? This isn't the sweet guy I fell for. All kinds of thoughts and scenarios go throughs your head in a situation like that, especially when you are a overthinking: What if he rejected my babies? What if they weren't good enough, like I wasn’t? What if he got tired of them, like he got tired of me? What if he had other children in the future, and mine were never a priority of his? We see that all the time in society, and I didn't want to force my kids into that kind of heartbreak, It's better not to have a father than be constantly disappointed, and honestly, the person who broke up with me is not someone I want around my children, and let alone that woman.”

Y/n chuckled lightly as she remembered when she first met Olivia, then with Jason, when the entire cast went out to dinner at a nice restaurant on Sunset.

“Do you want to hear something positively hilarious?” She asked, Hailey just looked at her, a tiny smile. “When I first met her, during a visit to LA, we all went out to dinner, the whole cast, her fiancé was together, and we chatted most of the night, he's an amazing guy, Chris Pine too, so smart and funny, and when we'd got home, H... he was dying of jealousy because I confessed that growing up I had this massive crush on both Jason Sudeikis and Chris Pine.” The singer gave a sarcastic laugh. “He was jealous of a teenage crush, while he was probably already cheating on me with her.”

Hailey rolled her eyes.

“The male ego is toxic.”

“Do not tell me.”

“Changing the subject a little.” Hailey said with a smile. “You always use plural when mentioning your baby, this is a way of not giving away the gender, or...”

Y/n smiled genuinely big.

“I’am having twins.” She laughed as Hailey gave a squeal of joy and hugged her friend. “So far I think only Z, Ni, Gigi and Bells knew...I lie, Anwar and Dua too, they were there when Ni found out about it, and girl...that Irishman is scandalous.”

[verosvault]

Fantasy High Junior Year Trailer Screenshots & Theories

This LOOKS like the Thistlespring Tree to me!!! 👀 Maybe it's Gorgug party gone awry??? Gorgug's birthday maybe?????

...Idk.... Some party/festivity/concert of some sort but it has a map! So they must be fighting something here???

I can't tell who that one figure is behind the stage. There's a figurine of someone behind the stage in the top left photo but I can't really tell who. 🥴

(ARE WE GETTING POSSIBLE DIGBY & WILMA MINIS?! 😭😭✋✋)

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This looks like the Cravencroft Cemetery? Maybe? Where Pok is burried. Where Zayn Darkshadow used to hang out....and also where the Bad Kids met the caretaker of the cemetary named "Sylvester".

I wonder...that blonde mini in the middle looks like an Elf with blonde hair. But ADAINE'S mini is the one in blue holding the sword...so...in terms of whoever is in the center there...I have NO CLUE! 💀✋🥲

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Idk why but the dome behind Emily is just giving me "Red Waste" vibes. Do I know if that's what it is? Nope! But that's what I was getting 🥴🤷‍♀️

I'm only assuming this map is the same! Idk! 😭 I just see the big rock in front of Emily and Kristen here is also on a big rock of similar color. 🥲🥲🥲

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The dome behind Ally and Brennan in these 2 screencaps...I mean....I got no idea! I'm blanking! 🥲

It looks like the same place though?

One of the buildings on the dome projection behind Ally reads "Page Turner"...Idk...🤷‍♀️

Idk why also the dome behind Brennan is giving me like- Mythology vibes???? 🤔🤔🤔🤔

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I wouldn't even KNOW WHERE TO START WITH THIS PLACE! It looks like a tomb or temple of some sort!

The only reference I can even begin to make in my head is the freaking guy that was suffering from Mummy Rot in the hospital during season 1! But I DOUBT that has ANYTHING to even DO WITH THIS!!! 🥴🥴🥴🥴

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Riz looks to be in some kind of office of some sort????

[ladyaj-13]

LadyAJ’s 2023 Fics

This year I wrote 16 new stories (and one new chapter on an old one!) across five fandoms - One Direction, Endeavour, Kingsman, The Eagle and new-to-me Ted Lasso. Details below, I hope you’ll check some out - I like to think there’s a bit of something for everyone. 

One Direction

Bloom - T, 28k, Louis/Liam

Do you like historical AUs? Do you like awesome art by @whatagreatproblemtohave? Then you’ll like this, written for the One Direction Big Bang.

In early 1970s Oxford, Detective Sergeant Louis Tomlinson has to deal with the dual pressures of a case that hits too close to home, and the arrival of new colleague Liam Payne. Payne is both the bane of his existence and, uh... dangerous. Very dangerous. His eyes, that is. His lips. The way he stands.

A story of rain and cobblestones, cigarettes, and repression. And the sunshine after the storm.

In Shining Armour of Trackie and Trainers - T, 9k, Louis/Harry

Because who wouldn’t love white knight Louis coming to their rescue?

Online dating isn't exactly working for Harry. In fact, it couldn't really be going much worse. But then the door of the bar opens, and the pack of friends walking in parts and - that’s Louis Tomlinson.

Louis fucking Tomlinson.

Pageant Material - G, 6k, Louis/Zayn

Watch me throw Miss Congeniality and Kacey Musgraves together, shake it up, and give it a Zouis twist. Written for the Zouis fest.

Louis flicks a nearby switch, lighting the bulbs around his mirror in a soft glow. The buttery yellow catches on the edges of his cheekbones, sharpening the dip. He looks more grown up this year. Some of his baby fat has melted away, and he sucks in his cheeks to see what he might look like by twenty five if this pattern continues. Then he crosses his eyes and sticks out his tongue.

Or, the Zouis teen beauty pageant AU.

The Way to My Heart - T, 6k, Louis/Harry

Fluffy, funny AU Larry with lots of Nouis friendship on the side. Written for the a/b/o fest.

Louis' having a bit of a dry spell, until he bumps into an attractive alpha in the supermarket and leaves with his number. It was a hard bump. Very... muscular.

The only problem is, said alpha asks Louis to cook for him - which is not exactly his skill set.

Feeling Feline - T, 4k, Louis/Niall

Nouis, my beloved, with shelter-worker!Niall and magical cat transformations. Written for the Louis rare pair fest.

“I’m telling you,” drifts through the cracked door, and Louis’ ears prick, twitching with interest. “There’s something wrong with that cat.”

“Have you talked to Liam?” asks another voice, worried. Louis thinks it’s the tall one with curly hair. Taller one. They’re all tall when you’re ten inches high.

“Not medically wrong,” the blond one says. “But I swear, and I know this sounds nuts, but I don’t think he’s a cat?”

Fine Line - G, 1k, Louis/Nick Grimshaw

It’s present day, it’s canon compliant, it’s just long enough to read while waiting for the bus assuming it’s not got stuck in traffic.

Telling his family was always going to be a big deal, but doing it alone was a sacrifice he could make.

He never thought they’d fall about laughing.

In The Dark - T, 666, Gen

Choose your own character in this spooky snippet written for the trick or treat fest.

It’s the dreams.

He’d be fine without the dreams… suggesting things. If he could face all this - whatever this is - with a clear, rested mind.

Bound - G, 619, Liam/Zayn

Vampire AU? Check. 

Months should pass like hours for a vampire, but to Zayn they’ve felt endless. Now, finally, it has come. The day he takes his consort.

Endeavour

Tread Carefully into my Life - T, 29k, WIP, Morse/Jakes

See? I told you it’s not abandoned. Maybe 2024 is the year I finally finish this canon rewrite where Jakes stayed - in the meantime, enjoy nearly thirty thousand words of their on/off up/down shenanigans!

He can't help the way his eyes drift across the room, to Morse in his shirtsleeves, arms crossed across his body. It’s a defensive posture, which is no surprise, but otherwise he looks collected. Calm. Like facing down man eating beasts is all part of the job, and despite the evidence of today, it most certainly is not part of the job.

Tigers. For the love of God, give him an axe murderer any day.

Stepping Out - G, 9k, Morse/Jakes/Joan

Established polyamory with the Oxford disaster trio. Jakes didn’t leave.

“You know what I haven't done in ages?” Joan asks, punctuating her question by flinging her legs up and leaning dramatically backwards against the sofa arm. Peter almost spills his tea. “Gone dancing. We should go.”

Kindred - G, 2k, Gen

Ohhh series nine. Pre-slash Morse/Sam if you really squint.

Sam Thursday, Morse, and the power of orange juice.

Offcuts - G, 2k, Morse/Jakes/Joan

With this final instalment, the series is complete. As a whole it's almost 32k, so if you like Endeavour and polyamorous relationships, set aside a Saturday and dive in.

Snapshot scenes of life with the trio.

Adding it Up - G, 887, Morse/Jakes

Let’s return to series three, because Jakes.

Fred’s been a copper for a long time. It’s in his bones at this point, a habit so engrained he can’t turn it off. Like Morse with his beer and Jakes with his cigarettes, Fred’s addiction is piecing things together. Even when he’d rather not.

Ted Lasso

Would You Rather - G, 1k - Colin & Jamie, Roy/Jamie

It had to happen! Diving into a new fandom is always a pleasure.

"I’m talking about percentages. Like, yeah, you’re gay. So maybe you’re at like, eighty, ninety per cent. But if I say who’d you rather fuck out of Ms Welton, Keeley and Maisie from the canteen, you know what you’d say, right?”

Colin is beginning to think Jamie doesn’t know what gay is. "Erm, no."

Squeegee - M, 525 - Roy/Jamie

Short and snappy ;)

Jamie’s beautifully vocal in bed, but long, pitchy squeaking is new.

Kingsman

The Honeypots - T, 5k - Eggsy/Harry

Partial AU with undercover, honeypot spy shenanigans and obliviousness? I wrote it for a reason. I mean, it’s right up my street.

Eggsy is MI6. Harry is Kingsman. They have each been tasked to seduce a suspected rival intelligence agent.

The intelligence part may be overselling it.

The Eagle of the Ninth

Winter Sunlight - G, 1k, Marcus/Esca

I think writing a fluffy, happy gay farmers fic is actually a requirement of this fandom. Here’s my offering.

“How is it,” a familiar voice mutters drowsily, muffled by the drape of skins and fur, “that after all these years, you still can’t manage a proper lie in?”