#but moving beyond taylor swift for a moment

[theostrophywife]

snow on the beach.

pairing: theodore nott x reader.

request: can you write some cuddles with theo? maybe he’s comforting reader, or maybe reader is comforting him, but this boy need some love pretty please.

song inspiration: snow on the beach by taylor swift.

author's note: as soon as i saw the gif by the lovely @dramaticals, i knew that i had to write a piece with it as the cover. get in, babes. we're simping for theodore nott.

The snow fell softly over Hogwarts, covering the castle with ice and frost. From the beach, Theo watched as the flurries glittered against stone and spire and frowned as the cold seeped into his bones. Underneath him, the Black Lake was frozen solid yet crystal clear. It might’ve been unwise to venture out so far from the shore, but Theo welcomed the clarity of the cold. 

The cigarette cradled between his slender fingers provided some much needed warmth, the nicotine filling his lungs and dulling his senses as he released a cloud of smoke into the air. Spread-eagled on the ice, Theo sprawled out like a snow angel, blinking away the snowflakes as it gathered on his lashes. 

Beyond the treeline, Theo glimpsed his friends chasing each other on their brooms. A loud cackle echoed from the Forbidden Forest as Mattheo hurled a snowball at Draco. Enzo and Regulus cursed as they narrowly dodged the attack, racing away from Mattheo as he laughed maniacally, clearly relishing his reign of terror. On any other day, he would’ve been flying right along his mates, but today was different. 

The boys could sense it as well. All morning, Theo had been distant and distracted. He barely participated in the conversations happening around him during lunch. When he turned down Mattheo’s invitation to play quidditch in the snow, his mates took the hint that Theo really just wanted to be alone.

So here he was, smoking in the freezing cold and hoping that the frigid air would provide a moment of reprieve from the complicated thoughts and emotions swirling within him. For his efforts, Theo was rewarded with a sore arse and a growing migraine pulsing behind his eyes. In other words, he was truly shit out of luck.

There was no escaping today. 

A soft shuffling beckoned his attention, but it wasn’t necessary for Theo to turn around to know who the steps belonged to. He could identify his best friend by sound alone. You always walked with purpose. Judging by the decisive click of your boots against the ice, Theo could tell that you were on a mission. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips as you came into view, your cheeks and nose flushed from the cold. 

With a hand on your hip, you cocked your head at Theo and posed a question in your usual no-nonsense tone. “Would you like some company or would you prefer to brood alone?” 

Theo looked up from his cigarette, biting back a smile. You were always straight to the point. Never one to mince words. Theo liked that about you. 

“I don’t mind the company if it’s you, principessa.” 

A soft smile graced his face as you transformed your robe into a blanket, laying it on the ice and beckoning him to move. Theo happily obliged and attempted not to chuckle as you fussed over him, clearly biting back on lecturing him on the dangers of catching hypothermia in this weather. You placed your bag underneath his head before laying beside him in the cocoon of fabric. 

Without a word, you tapped your shoulder. His heart warmed at the familiar gesture as he leaned against you. A sigh of satisfaction slipped past his lips as you ran your fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp and easing all the tension from his body. 

“What are you doing out here?” Theo asked as you toyed with the curls at the nape of his neck. “You hate the cold.” 

“I do, but I don’t hate you.” 

Theo nuzzled against your neck, humming softly as the warmth of your skin soothed his senses. “I missed you at breakfast. Thought you were sleeping in, so I didn’t bother to wake you up.” His mouth quirked in amusement. “We both know what happens when your sleep is interrupted.”

“I’m not that bad,” you said sheepishly. 

“The last time I tried to wake you up before noon on a weekend, you threw a slipper at my head.” 

“I thought you were an intruder.” 

“Mhm,” Theo murmured against your shoulder. “That explains why you yelled, ‘Leave me alone, Theodore!’ after physically assaulting me.” 

By the way you shifted beside him, Theo knew you were rolling your eyes fondly. “For your information, I woke up bright and early this morning to head to Hogsmeade.” 

“Has hell frozen over?” Theo asked dramatically, furrowing his brows as he looked up at you. “The Y/N I know wouldn’t be caught dead in all this snow. Especially not without stealing at least three of my hoodies before stepping foot out of the castle.” 

You chuckled, brushing a strand of wavy hair away from his eyes. “Contrary to what you may believe, I’m not completely helpless without you. I bundled up and braved the snow to pick up a package from the post.” 

“I wish you would’ve told me, dolcezza. I would’ve gone to the village with you.” 

“That’s sweet of you, Teddy. But it was a quick trip and I managed fine on my own.”

Theo grumbled with displeasure, but rested his head on your shoulder once more. The two of you sat in comfortable silence, just soaking up each other’s company. You were clearly aware that something was on his mind, but you didn’t push. You knew that Theo would talk if and when he was ready. It was one of the many things he appreciated about you. Whenever you were together, there was never any need to fill the silence. Even without words, you could read him like a book. 

After a while, Theo put out his cigarette and turned over to face you. You smiled as he scooted closer and breathed in your strawberry shampoo. He brushed the snowflakes off of your cheek, but more fell to take their place. 

“How did you know I’d be out here?” 

“For reasons I will never understand, you love the cold. You said it helps you think clearly,” you replied, tracing the moles and freckles that littered his skin like constellations. “I figured you had a lot on your mind. I imagine the anniversary is a rough day for you.” 

Theo blinked in surprise. Though you told each other nearly everything, Theo had never disclosed the anniversary of his mother’s death. He rarely spoke about her to anyone. Even after ten years, the loss still made his heart feel hollow. 

“You know what today is?” He asked in a small, quiet voice. 

You nodded in confirmation. “Your nonna mentioned it in her last letter. I know you usually like to be alone to remember her, but I wanted to at least check up on you.” 

There was an ache in his chest as he met your concerned gaze. You placed your hand above his heart and rubbed over the spot like you knew how heavy of a load it was to carry. Theo’s fingers gently closed around yours. 

“I’m glad you did.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You asked softly. “All these years? I would’ve liked to be there for you.” 

There was a hint of pain in the edges of your voice as though robbing you of the ability to comfort him physically hurt. Knowing you, it probably did. You cared so deeply and loved so fully. It was just the type of person that you were. It was what drew him to you in the first place. 

“I didn’t think I could,” he admitted truthfully. “After my mum died, my father never spoke about her again. He just acted like the day of her death never happened. For him, it was just another normal day and not the day that I lost half of myself. My father said it was weak to show emotion, so I never did. I had no choice but to be strong, so I am.” 

Theo closed his eyes and attempted to tamper down his emotions. When he opened them again, he was met with your heartbroken expression. A pang of guilt struck his heart like an arrow. The last thing he wanted to do was upset you. Seeing you in pain was worse than enduring the Cruciatus curse and Merlin knew he had plenty of experience in that regard. Thanks to his cruel, ruthless father. Theo started to apologize, but startled when you cradled his face in your hands, your gaze full of bravery and determination. 

“Emotions don’t make you weak, Teddy. You’re allowed to feel. You’re allowed to grieve and rage and cry. You don’t have to be so strong all the time.” 

The words struck him to his very core. It had never occurred to him to let his armor fall. He wasn't aware that was even an option. All his life, Theo thought that repressing every ounce of emotion was the only way to cope with his mother’s death. He wasn’t granted permission to speak of her, much less grieve over her. Self-preservation had been drilled into him even before he was sorted into Slytherin. It was how he survived.

“I don’t?” He asked in a broken whisper. 

“No, you don’t.” You replied, pressing your forehead against his. “I’m here for you and I won’t judge you for being vulnerable.” 

Theo swallowed past the lump in his throat. “I don’t want to weigh you down with my burdens.” 

“You won’t,” you promised. “Whatever heaviness you’re carrying, I’ll carry it with you. You never have to do anything alone, Teddy.” 

The ice in his chest cracked and the armor he so carefully crafted around his heart splintered off into a million tiny pieces. It should’ve terrified him, but instead, all Theo felt was relief. You were giving him a safe space to feel. A luxury that had been ripped away from him the day his mother died. 

“I miss her so much.” 

With those five words, Theo felt the dam break. Years and years of sadness and anger and grief washed over him like a tidal wave, flooding his heart with the intensity of it all. The rush of the current would have wiped him out entirely if it hadn’t been for your arms wrapping around him, holding him to the present like an anchor. Theo clung onto you for dear life and sobbed. 

He sobbed and sobbed and sobbed. He cried until the front of your sweater was soaked with his tears. He cried until his throat was raw from screaming. He cried until his eyes were bloodshot and red and as heavy as lead. Through it all, you hugged him tightly, holding him against you firmly as you rubbed his back and whispered soothing words in his ear. 

“It’s okay, Teddy. Let it out. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.” 

Theo gripped the back of your sweater, bunching up the fabric between his fingers as he unleashed ten years worth of grief out into the open. You didn’t balk at any of it. The two of you had weathered the good, the bad, and the ugly together and none of it had scared you off. Theo believed you when you said that you weren’t going anywhere. To you, it was a sacred promise. One that you had kept faithfully since the day you met him. 

“I’m here for you,” you declared in reassurance, rocking him back and forth. “I always will be.” 

He didn’t know what he did to deserve someone like you. During times like these, Theo was convinced that you were his guardian angel. A gift from above to offset all the shit and misery that life brought. It was cathartic to cry in the arms of the girl he loved because he knew that you would hold him as he fell apart and put him back together in a way that only you could. 

After what seemed like ages, Theo finally looked up. With a sniffle, he watched with an awestruck expression as you wiped the tears from his cheeks and kissed his forehead. 

“I got something for you,” you whispered softly. “You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to, but I think it might help. It’s a way to commemorate the loss of your mother, but to also honor the happy memories that live on in your heart.” 

You fished around in your bag and pulled out a small paper lantern. As you held it in your hands, it glowed as though enchanted. 

“Back home, we light these lanterns and release them to honor the loved ones we’ve lost. I asked my mum to mail me one and it just arrived in the post this morning. Special delivery.” 

Just when Theo thought he was all out of tears, a fresh wave crashed over him. He was the reason why you’d trudged out in the snow and frost so early in the morning. To pick up the most thoughtful gift that anyone has ever given him. Theo couldn’t help but bawl. 

Your eyes widened. “Oh no. I didn’t mean to upset you. We don’t have to do it if you want to. I can send it back—“

Theo shook his head. “No, no, no. It’s perfect. It’s the most thoughtful thing anyone’s ever done for me. Thank you. For writing to my crazy old nonna and letting me get snot all over your favorite sweater and turning a shit day less shitty. Thank you so much, Y/N.” 

You smiled, brushing his waves back. “You don’t have to thank me, Theo. I’d do anything for you. That’s what you do for the people you love.” 

His breath caught in his throat. Theo looked up at you with hopeful eyes. “You love me?” 

“With every fiber of my being.” 

Before he knew it, Theo was crying again, but this time it was happy tears. He leaned in, cradling your face in his hands just like you always did to him, and pressed his lips against yours. The kiss was so soft and so gentle, like he was afraid that you might disappear. 

“I love you, Y/N,” he declared with certainty. Theo loved you like the moon loved the sun. He loved you like the shadows loved the stars. You were the light that he’s been waiting for in the darkness. “I think my mum would’ve loved you too.” 

You smiled, intertwining your fingers together and kissing his knuckles. “I wish I had the chance to meet her.” 

“You still can,” Theo said with a smile. “Will you show me how to light the lantern, cara mia?” 

After you showed him how to enchant the lantern, Theo was able to light it by himself. The lantern glowed in his hands as he looked over at you. “What’s next?” 

“Usually, we say a few words to honor the dead. It can be as short or as long as you’d like.” Theo swallowed thickly. He seemed to be grappling with his thoughts, searching for the right words. You grabbed hold of his hand and squeezed. “There’s no right or wrong way to do it. As long as it comes from the heart. Don’t be scared, Teddy. I’m right here.” 

Theo nodded, smiling softly as he squeezed back. He composed himself for a moment and stared at the lantern. 

“Ciao, mamma. It’s Teddy. Today was really hard. It’s been ten years since I lost you, but I still feel you everywhere. I miss you a lot. I’m sorry that I never talk about you. Even now, it still hurts. But I’m learning that sometimes you just have to let yourself feel the pain. That it’s okay to let other people in and let them carry the burden with you. I’m lucky, mamma. I have nonna and my cousins and my mates. I have Y/N. She takes care of me. She always asks me about my day. She remembers every little thing I tell her, like the fact that I hate crusts on my sandwiches and pineapple on pizza.” 

You chuckled as his nose scrunched up in disgust. The sincerity of it all made your heart feel like it was overflowing with love for this beautiful boy. “She’s always bossing me around and fussing over me, but I secretly love that she cares so much. She’s got such a big heart, mamma. I’m lucky to even occupy a small portion of it. I guess what I’m trying to say is, you don’t have to worry about me. I’ve got Y/N to watch over me. I love you and I miss you. I promise I’ll talk about you more. Ci vediamo, mamma.” 

Your eyes welled with tears as Theo released the lantern. He turned to you, wiping a tear away. “Hey, none of that,” he teased. “I’ve cried enough for the both of us tonight, love.” 

“I’m sorry. That was just so beautiful. I’m so proud of you, Teddy. I know it wasn’t easy, but you were so brave.” 

He leaned down to kiss your temple. “Couldn’t have done it without you, cara mia.” 

Theo laced his fingers through yours and tugged lightly. “Now come on, dolcezza. Let’s get inside where it’s warm. I know you’re dying to lecture me about being out in the cold for this long.” 

You chuckled, not even the least bit surprised at how well Theo knew you. 

Later that night, after the two of you dried off, changed into pajamas, and snuggled underneath your warm blankets, you listened as Theo told stories of his mum. You laughed when he recounted the time his mum hexed Lucius for stealing her shampoo in third year. You cried when he recalled the way she’d always let him curl up in her bed after a nightmare, singing him to sleep and soothing her Teddy. 

In one night, the memories that he kept locked away in his heart for ten years came spilling out of Theo. You soaked up every detail like a sponge, hanging onto his every word. The sun was rising by the time he exhausted himself, but he felt so much lighter than he ever had. With your arms wrapped tightly around him, Theo knew that he was loved beyond measure. He could feel the affection and devotion radiating between you, like an invisible string that tied the two of you together.

As you spooned him, Theo grinned and kissed your fingertips. “Thank you for letting me talk about my mum. I’ve never told anyone any of that before.” 

“What makes me so special?” 

Theo turned over and smiled. “You make me feel safe,” he whispered in the darkness. You teared up at his words, knowing how hard it was for Theo to let his guard down. The fact that he allowed himself to be vulnerable around you was a privilege that you’d never take for granted. “You take all my fucked up, broken pieces and put me back together again. With you, I feel whole.” 

“It doesn’t matter how many times you fall apart, Teddy. I will always be here to pick up the pieces.” 

“Me too,” Theo murmured sleepily. He leaned over and kissed you, soft and sweet and pure. Your heart ached for him. You were convinced that your soul would’ve searched through infinity and back just to find him. “That’s what you do for the people you love.”

TAGLIST

@annaisabookworm @marina468 @yaraasthings @the0doreslover @bubybubsters @moony-artemis @natasha887 @lucyysthings @criesinlies @bunnymallowo @niktwazny303 @letmedownslows @siriuslyalovergirl @wordsarelife @clairesjointshurt @daydreamingabthar@moonflowersandsparkles @fudge13

#i am so sorry for doing this to all of you but if i had to cry about him then you do too #theo nott #theodore nott #theo nott x you #theo nott x reader #theo nott x y/n #theo nott imagine #theo nott smut #theodore nott x you #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott smut #theodore nott x y/n #theo nott fluff

[romanoffsbish]

Y/N (Natasha’s Version)

Natasha Romanoff x F!R

Natasha x Bucky (blip / referenced)

Warnings: “Cheating” | Underage Drinking | Internalized Homophobia

Request | You heard the rumors from Darcy, unfortunately they were true—Natasha missed you, so she showed up at your party | WC: 2,799

Betty by Taylor Swift, sapphic canon not just coded and slightly aged up to the start of college (18+)

As the car rolled away, Natasha felt her throat constrict. Where there once was a sunset on the horizon, in blush waves of pink and orange, she only saw an apocalyptic sky where red slowly bled into grey.

——

The perfectly paved streets restored to their prior days as the pre-gentrified road of your shared Brooklyn suburb became her current hallucination. Tied to the tail pipe of your mother's beaten down corolla was her heart, thumping against the cracked pavement. The natural gaps in the organ were filled by pebbles. As the car disappeared she felt shattered, the string pulling her heart had broken and the organ fell into a pothole.

Is it over now? No, Natasha couldn't face that...

As your mom's Tesla turned left the redhead let the sob she had been holding in out. Her body collapsed into a shroud of darkness as her blackout curtains shut, the blankets atop of her mattress moved to suffocate her.

Good, she wanted to die; she knew she was being dramatic but in this moment it felt like her barely even an adult world had ended. Her hit list was growing steadily, first she would kill Wanda, her idiot best friend that posted the photo of her with Bucky.

They were awkwardly kissing, and the redhead deleted it from her stories in a matter of minutes, but it was too late. Darcy saw it, the mutual friend who moved to the same city as she had, and she blabbed instantly. The woman called Jane, who then confirmed that there was actual proof this time before she phoned you in.

Natasha returned to town just in time to see the one consequence she never pondered when experimenting; your face was neutral, but your eyes were crestfallen.

It was just a stupid experience she needed to have, a short summer fling, it lasted not even two weeks. It was reckless and she knows that now. You'd slapped her hand away just days ago, then in a split second she found out from Yelena that you were going to NYU.

The blonde saw you at her late orientation for those stellar high school students interested in an early start. Natasha cried that night knowing you were leaving, you wouldn't be taking the gap year with her anymore.

Your heart was attached to her line, and she never considered that she should've just talked to you. It should have occurred to her that you would be upset. Considering the two of you were together, in a sense; not exactly girlfriends, but far more than friends.

Natasha regretted the affair as soon as it started, but she just needed to know if her Russian parents, who were raised back home were ready for her truth.

James was a total gentleman, her parents would've loved him since the young boy was affluent with Russian and the culture, but he wasn't the right fit. Natasha knew that after one attempt at kissing him, his lips were gruff and his hands were just the same as they roamed her form, the touch filled her with dread.

Unlike yours, which never came without words of confirmation and were soft when granted permission. Natasha found immense comfort at the feeling of your pillowy soft lips against hers alongside your gentle roaming hands. It went beyond the physical touch too, which really only served to prove to her she was a raging lesbian. When she looked into Bucky's ice blue eyes she felt nothing, not even a tether of friendship, but with you she felt that obnoxious fluttering in her stomach, and the world she saw were more vibrant.

Every time you were near her body and mind felt serene, like she could rest around you without the unease she felt around most. Everything was different now and she felt it deep within. You're gone, and with you left the comfort and love she needed to breathe.

That night, as sleep inevitably consumed her tortured mind Natasha found herself determined to fix this. It was a misunderstanding—you'd understand, right?

——

A week had gone by, Yelena had mentioned how she ran into you at the cafe where you treated her to a hot cocoa. Not allowing the turmoil with Natasha to affect the way you approached her little sister. It had warmed her heart and even made her smile, then the blonde sarcastically mentioned that you looked sad, her harsh delivery sought to remind her sister it was her fault.

Though she didn't leave her with only the reminder of her shortcomings, but also of an opportunity to amend.

"There's a frat party this weekend, Y/N's going."

Which is why Natasha was racing down the stairs at 8pm on a Saturday. Normally you two would be cuddled up in her bed, watching your favorite show while surrounded by every snack known to man. The party lifestyle never appealed to either of you and a part of her ached as she wondered why you're going.

How deeply did her betrayal change your outlook on life? Did her foolish decision make you think you needed to change? Were you afraid you weren't lively enough? Fuck, did you intend to move on tonight?

Natasha shook her head when she heard a honk, the depressing thoughts having consumed her into a state where she was mindlessly driving. Fortunately, she didn't hit anyone and was able to focus her mind long enough to make it to the college where she saw chaos.

Bodies of various students bustled across the campus quad, some in the direction of the main buildings but majority of them headed to a road far off to the side of the grand lecture halls. On the left side were rather large houses painted in varied shades of pastel, they were clearly well maintained. On the right stood a parallel set of houses, but the paint job was dull and there were pieces missing from many of the fixtures.

What stood out most though, was the black house in the center of them all, currently surrounded by idiots with red solo cups in their hands. The bulk of them laughing at the joke another drunken fool had made.

Natasha cringed when a body collided into hers, and as if things couldn't be worse she recognized the woman, Darcy. The raven haired woman stood in shock for a split second before offering the familiar face a smile. It was lopsided and it was clear the woman was faded.

Natasha was annoyed initially, but quickly saw the woman as a means to an end. "Where's Y/N?"

The woman pursed her lips and shrugged. "Inside?"

As she should've expected, the blabbing stoner only offered information to others when it wasn't helpful. Natasha passive aggressively pushed by her and took the risk of entering the house full of underage bodies.

Loads of upperclassmen foolishly tried to stop her on her determined journey to you, but most were met with bruised nuts alongside their cowering egos. In a matter of thirty minutes she had checked the entirety of the cloudy building and a part of her beamed at that.

You were nowhere to be found, her heart hoped that you'd returned to the dorm she finessed out of Yelena.

There was a nervous flutter in her chest that brought her frantic searching to a pause and made her mouth run dry. A pang of fear that paralyzed her body in place as she now considered the endless possible outcomes.

Would you even open the door if you knew it was her?

The redhead was sure you didn't have peepholes but there's the likely chance of you slamming the door shut in her face, that felt worse. Not nearly as bad as her next thought, what if you were exploring too, just like she had with Bucky? Her hands became shaky at the hypocritical unease she felt about you moving on.

In her nervous state she took a sip of the punch before she promptly spit it back out into the red solo cup. If she wasn't nauseated before she sure as hell was now. A water bottle was just in her reach, properly cold and a perfect cure to wash away the disgust on her tongue. Just as she began to unscrew the lid though she found herself frozen again as she heard a familiar giggle.

Natasha's head spun to the left side then the right. A blur of pointless people filled her vision before she found the source of the laughter—her happiness.

Stood directly across the room, in a gorgeous red dress with a familiar leather jacket hanging loosely over your likely bare shoulders. Her cheeks tinted pink, a sense of relief nearly washed over her at the notion of you potentially not hating her like she feared. Then she frowned, you wore a bright smile as you sipped on a juice box. It warmed the heart of your once secret lover to see you looking so carefree, a stark contrast to the last time, just like she always remembered you to be.

This time though, you were enraptured by a stupid jock, they bore an uncanny resemblance to herself that made her stomach swoop with a fragile sense of hope.

If you looked for her in another, she stood a chance, even if it was microscopic and not guaranteed. Right?

Yes or no, it didn't matter. Natasha would not go down without a fight, she once beat off an entire group of boys for taunting you, she'd gladly do it again for you.

Fortunately for the redhead she wouldn't have to. It was like something out of a movie the way your eyes locked with hers, the sounds became muted and you felt a dull flutter in your stomach where it used to be a roaring surge of butterflies to symbolize a deep love. A swarm of tears hung at the edge of your lashes and the massive room suddenly became too claustrophobic.

Natasha didn't question it as you took off, nor did she hesitate to dart after you as you aimlessly ran out the back door and stumbled upon an unexpected garden.

Who knew the dude bros also bore green thumbs?

Natasha found you sobbing over their patch of carrots and couldn't refrain from softly chuckling. Even in your grief you were finding a way to be useful and it filled her with nostalgia, it was just so inherently you.

Once your eyes shot up to hers, narrowed and enraged she realized she wasn't as quiet as she thought. "Fuck off Natasha." The joy on her face neutralized as she fell to her knees in front of you, her instinct was to reach out—to pull you in, but with words left unsaid and your clear disdain verbalized she knew it was best not to.

Every other time she'd seen you cry she held you close, but in this moment all she could do was grab the loose, fraying threads of your light brown cardigan and wrap it around her tiny, chiseled frame as if hugging herself.

A part of you softened when your eyes caught the self-soothing move, and the urge for answers won over your decision to never speak to the heartbreaker again.

"Why?" Natasha's frown worsened, the crack in your voice mirrored the ones in both of your naive souls.

"I missed you," she instantly answers one of the questions attached to the simple word, "and I needed the chance to explain myself before you give us up."

"Us?" You scoffed and didn't even care that she flinched. "You moved on first Natasha, without even a heads up—I found out through the local pothead."

"No," she denied with a shaky voice, "I didn't mean."

"Oh please," you cut her off, "I don't do cliches Natasha and you very well know that. I just don't understand."

"Let me speak," she croaked desperately, "I don't know why I didn't come to you with this query det—Y/N."

A shiver of delight betrayed you as it ran down your spine when you heard the delicate beginnings of the pet name Natasha assigned to you in middle school. The notion alone should have been enough for the redhead to know, but feelings were never definite enough for her, much like her mom she leaned into empirical evidence and just this once it has failed her.

"I needed to know," she continued. "Know what?"

You saw the way her nail beds were raw and red, much like her eyes as she attempted to refrain from crying more as she whispered, "when I came out to Mama and Papa, I had to know if you were my one and only, or if the urge to kiss girls since pre-k was truly genuine."

"So you kissed some random guy? I wasn't enough?"

"I couldn't just trust my heart here," she replied with frustration clear in her tone, but she quickly softened as she saw your hurt expression, she reminded herself that this uncomfortable, targeted feeling was her fault.

"Why him?" Natasha saw an insecurity in your eyes that infuriated her at her core, as if he ever compared to you. "He was their type," she answered truthfully.

You hummed and turned away from her, staring out into the black abyss that was the forestry behind the college. It intrigued you, nearly enough to run into it but you saw the danger there, but as you peered over at Natasha again you found the resentment melted away; the butterflies found a gust of wind to flutter against.

You shakily found the nerve to ask her, "so, was I?"

A few seconds of silence followed as the redhead worked to understand your question, Natasha's lip trembled as your intentional verbiage left her feeling hopeless, but she spoke her truth, "You always will be."

A mix between a groan and humorless laugh left you, "I said no cliches Natty, if you want to win me over..." Instead of saying another word you stood up and left.

Natasha's eyes widened and she stumbled to her feet, intent on following you as you slowly walked back towards the party she had no particular interest in joining. To her satisfaction you merely smiled at a friend as you grabbed your bag from by the couch.

Wordlessly you continued out the front door, and a giggle left you once Natasha grabbed you by your hip from the side, her body twisted around you and her other hand landed on your other hip. The beauty wore a hesitant smile on her face as she peered up at you.

Natasha breathlessly pled, "Can I kiss you, please?"

"A kiss on the steps of a college frat party," you teased, a smirk on your ruby tinted lips, "is grossly overdone."

The redhead moved her arms around your waist and yanked you forward anyways, "cliches are romantic." Her anxiety bitten lips pressed into yours, of course you felt the way her body relaxed due to your touch and the last bit of doubt left your body as she spun you around until your legs wrapped around her waist.

In a moment of excitable weakness you sighed, "I only will accept kisses like this going forward." Natasha chuckled at the change up, and you glared instantly, "I refuse to be a spectacle though, so take me to the car!"

Natasha refused to take any chances with your bubbling forgiveness so she rushed forward, gentle as can be as she settled you into the raised truck. It was automatic as you reached for her aux, "let's go to our spot—you can continue to win me over with food..."

A soft kiss was placed on your cheek in thanks, you knew this because Natasha always did this after a fight. Usually it was over something silly, like who was the masked killer or where you two should get dinner, but it was always true, the action was a promise of peace.

The redhead put the car in drive, pulling onto the quiet roads of a rural New York mountainside, windows rolled down allowing you to enjoy the crisp air as she went slightly above the 50mph speed limit. Whenever she could she'd cast a glance your way, and even in the dark she could catch your radiant smile as you quietly sang along to, "begin again," by Taylor Swift.

After a few moments of quiet driving on the redheads part you felt the presence of a hand, crippled by hesitation hovering over your thigh. With a gentle finger you pressed it down and looked to her with a gaze that held both hesitation and a willingness to understand, to forgive and hopefully, to start anew.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff au #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff oneshot #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x female reader #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff x you #gxg #natasha x reader #natasha x y/n #natasha x you #natasha x fem!reader #natasha x female reader #black widow #black widow imagine

[heavenlylie]

lover

pairing: tara carpenter x fem!reader (could be gn!reader too)

summary: you and tara shared enchanted nights under christmas lights, intertwining your hearts in a destined love story. your love became a symphony, echoing through years, forever harmonizing your souls.

warnings: none

word count: 1.4k

a/n: this was based on the song Lover by Taylor Swift. i'm a huge swiftie and this just felt right, it was literally so heartwarming to write this with lover on repeat. also let's pretend i did not just disappear for 6 months! anyway enjoyyy!

The winter winds whispered through the streets of New York City, carrying with them a promise of enchantment. Amid the soft glow of Christmas lights that adorned the city, Tara and you found yourselves entwined in a story that seemed to be written in the stars.

The snowflakes danced around the two of you like tiny white fairies, punctuating the silence of the night with a magical sparkle. Tara's cheeks were rosy, her eyes bright with joy. You smiled at her, and she laughed, the sound echoing through the air as if it were the only thing in the world that mattered.

You reached for her hand, your fingers intertwining as you looked up into the sky, searching for the stars in the night. You both paused, taking in the beauty of the city and the warmth of the moment. Then, you turned to each other and, without a word, stepped forward, deeper into the embrace of the night.

Your hearts connected in those moments, and you both knew that this was something special that would last forever. You were finally in the place you'd been dreaming of - together, in love, and at home. The city was your canvas, and together you created a living masterpiece that you would never forget.

The night was alive with promise, and every step you took together revealed a new layer of excitement. You stopped to admire the holiday decorations that adorned shop windows, and you couldn't help but share secret glances as you laughed at your own stories and memories. A feeling of contentment filled your heart as you held hands and looked into one another's eyes, feeling as if the world was just right this very moment.

You eventually reached an open-air cafe, its tables lit only by the stars in the sky. After ordering drinks, you moved to one of the tables furthest from the city's hustle and bustle.

Comfort feeling your heart knowing that Tara would always save a seat for you, her lover. The sound of laughter around you lingered in the air like soft music, fuelling a shared sense of peace and joy between yourselves.

You began talking about everything - life, love, dreams - until finally there were no more words to be said; just silence that spoke volumes through comfortable silences. The night gradually faded away into morning light without either of you noticing as you stroll through Central Park, time felt irrelevant when it came to your connection.

As dawn arrived, so did an awareness that this night would remain forever etched in both your hearts and minds as something special beyond compare. With one last lingering glance at each other over steaming cups of coffee, Tara smiled softly at you before taking your hand once again and leading both back home.

You stepped through the door of your apartment, a cozy retreat that you had created with Tara. As soon as you crossed the threshold, the outside world melted away and it felt as if nothing else existed but the two of you. This was your kingdom, a safe space filled with laughter and love where no one else could enter.

Here, there were no rules or expectations; just comfort and contentment in each other's presence. In the evenings, you cuddled up on the couch in front of a crackling fire, sipping hot chocolate and talking about your days.

You shared stories and secrets, little moments of joy that had occurred throughout the day — experiences that only you two could understand. As time passed, your conversations slowly transformed into stargazing sessions; mugs in hand, you marvelled at the night sky in amazement.

During wintertime especially, these moments became sacred rituals. The warmth of your connection melted away any chill outside as cuddles replaced blankets and cups of tea replaced mugs of hot chocolate.

As time moved forward so did both your hearts - protecting all the memories made within those walls - so much so that it seemed impossible for anything to break them apart ever again. These were special days that neither one of you would ever forget because here in this little apartment was where two hearts entwined forever made a home.

The apartment began to feel like a canvas for your love, painted with the hues of shared meals, tangled limbs, and whispered secrets. You created your own little world inside those walls, a place where nothing else mattered but the two of you. It was here that your souls connected and intertwined in an indescribable dance.

Time no longer seemed to exist as minutes turned into hours and days fading away into weeks without either one of you noticing. Your connection was more than just physical; it was an intangible bond that neither of you could explain but both knew existed nonetheless.

Even in the midst of friends filling the space with laughter and chatter, your connection remained the heart of it all — unbreakable and unwavering in spite of any outside forces.

As months flew by, so did the moments shared within those four walls, each new experience bringing even deeper understanding and appreciation for one another.

It seemed impossible for anything to ever break apart this bond between you two - not distance or time or anything else this world throws at you - for within these walls, a love had been forged that would remain forever etched in both your hearts and minds as something special beyond compare.

The seasons marched on, leaving footprints in the sands of your relationship. As three summers came and went, your love deepened with every passing day. The passage of time only seemed to enhance the resonance of your emotions, each moment engraving itself into your hearts. In the midst of these fleeting yet timeless moments, you knew that a lifetime would not be enough for either one of you to express the depth of your love for one another.

As autumn arrived bringing it's crisp air and colourful foliage, you decided to make a promise of forever; a promise to stand by each other no matter what life had in store. So on an early Saturday morning in October, with friends and family gathered around you two, right where it all began; you exchanged vows of eternal love and commitment.

In the presence of those who have known and loved you both since the beginning, you stood as a testament to the enduring power of love. The vows you exchanged held the weight of promises to cherish and support one another, no matter what the future held.

As you looked into each other's eyes, you knew that your hearts were forever intertwined; here was a beautiful moment that neither one could put into words - but instead celebrated with tears of joy and elation for this was exactly where they wanted to be for eternity.

Years unfolded like the enchanting notes of a beautiful symphony, delicately weaving together into a melody of love that grew stronger with every passing moment. With each year that passed, your love story blossomed into something even more extraordinary, like a flower opening its petals to the sun's gentle caress.

The warmth and tenderness between you radiated like the soft glow of Christmas lights, illuminating not only the city's streets but also the depths of your souls. And just like those lights that danced through the winter nights until the dawn of January, your love continued to shine brilliantly in every season of your journey.

The memories of your first winter together hold a special place in your hearts, like a treasured memento hidden amongst the pages of a favorite book. The laughter that echoed through your private universe created a symphony of joy that resounded with warmth and comfort. It was a time of shared whispers, stolen glances, and stolen kisses, as the promises exchanged on that momentous day bound your souls together in an unbreakable bond.

These precious memories, like delicate threads, were etched in the tapestry of your love, weaving a story that would be cherished for eternity.

As you reflect upon the chapters of your love story, you realize that your journey together can be likened to a symphony — a beautiful composition that evokes emotions and stirs the deepest parts of your being.

The enchanting melody of your love resonates within your hearts, forever playing in perfect harmony. It is a symphony that is timeless and everlasting, destined to echo throughout the annals of your love story, for it is a melody that will endure. Tara would be your lover, forever and ever.

#tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter #tara x reader #scream 5 #scream 6 #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #jenna x reader

[thatfreshi]

Appreciate the Astarion works!!! 💙💙💙

If you'd like another request, what about Tav gifting him something that allows him to see his reflection? Idk some kinda spell/amulet/potion? They're already to the point where he feeds from them or in a relationship and he's just beyond touched/ shocked they would do something for him like this? (Bc we know he's not ever had the most kindness shown to him)

he's been living rent free in my head and I just want to give him everything his undead lil heart desires.

Recommended Song: Mirrorball - Taylor Swift

(I just started listening to her music and holy shit this song is so them!!!)

It's late, the perfect time of day for the two of you. You and Astarion and out in your backyard, putting out some new furniture that he haggled for today. It's hard to say no to that smile, you would know. As you move nice chairs around debating where you should put them, you get into a playful argument.

"I know you're like, the house decorator, but gods why can't we put it in this corner?"

"Because darling, it'll ruin the feng shui. We should put the chairs here instead, and keep the plants over here."

You roll your eyes.

"I bet you don't even know what feng shui means."

"I don't, but it sure sounds fancy doesn't it?"

You giggle.

"What, I'm laughable because I don't know one tiny phrase? I bet there are plenty of words you don't know."

"Well, I don't know them, so I'm not worried about them."

You saunter over to him, throwing your arms up around his shoulders, and the two of you stare at each other for a moment.

"You know our anniversary is tomorrow right?"

"How could I forget my sweet?"

"I don't know, maybe the way you forgot what feng shui means."

"Okay, ouch. But yes of course, I have wondrous plans for the two of us."

"Okay but you can't have that good of plans because I really need to make sure you don't one-up this."

You walk back into the house for a brief moment, grabbing a scroll out of your bag.

"When I walked away while we were at the market, because I said I got tired of hearing you argue with that old lady? Well, I found this."

You hold the scroll out, and he gently grabs it out of your hands.

"I tried to get Gale to teach me, but you know I'm not very magically inclined so..."

He unrolls the scroll, reading the scrawled writing.

"This is-"

You cut him off in excitement.

"Mirror image! I thought maybe you could use it to make a reflection of yourself."

He stares at the scroll in shock.

"How much did you pay for this?"

"None of your damn business."

You grin at him, knowing all too well that you paid that guy way too much.

"This is very sweet my dear, I... I don't know what to say."

"Well you don't have to say anything, try it!"

After reading for a moment, he goes to cast the spell. He says a few words that go right over your head, and suddenly there were three more Astarions in your backyard.

"Gods!"

Astarion's cry of shock echoed through, all four of him? You're not quite sure how this works. After getting his bearings, Astarion looks around at his three reflections.

"Wow, this is certainly... wow."

You're so excited, you can finally show him all the little details you like about him, he gets to see how gorgeous he is, the list goes on and on.

"Okay, I have to do something funny, because I NEED you to see your little laugh lines. Hm..."

He furrows his brow at you, wondering what you're planning. And then you tickle his sides, causing an eruption of laughter.

"Quick, look!"

As he's still smiling, he catches a glimpse of one of the reflections, the little crow's feet he gets when he laughs.

"Oh, that was so important you had to attack me? If anything they make me look old."

"Well... you are kinda old."

He playfully pushes your shoulder. After the two of you quiet your laughter, he stands staring at one of the reflections, taking it all in. The eyes, the hair, trying to remember what he used to look like.

"What do you think?"

"I think... I think it's fitting."

He snarls to look at his fangs. Astarion has never seen just how menacing he can be, why people listen to him when he's threatening. You don't see anything scary though. Maybe you used to, long long ago. But now, he's just Astarion. That's all he has to be.

"This red really is quite bright."

He says, commenting on his eyes.

"Yeah, they're nice though. Piercing."

"At least my hair looks as good as I think it does. All my efforts haven't been wasted."

And just as fast as they came, the reflections vanish, fading out of existence. It's just the two of you again.

"Damn, I thought it would last a little longer."

You frown a little, wondering if it was really worth it. Astarion catches your glance, realizing your doubt. He tilts your chin up and cups your face in his hand.

"Even if it was short, it was a wondrous gift darling. I appreciate it, truly. Besides, now I know what kind of handsome devil you've ended up with."

"Yeah, trust me, I know."

You wrap yourselves up in each other, locking lips, somehow sharing your gratitude for each other in kisses. He gets a little handsy, and you jokingly whisper to him.

"Should've done this with the reflections."

He laughs quietly.

"Oh hush."

You end the evening tangled up in each other, and he seems to be more sure of himself than usual. Turns out seeing yourself after two hundred years can do something for the ego. Maybe one day, you'll find a more permanent soluton, but for now, one little scroll is enough. He's enough. You're both enough, as long as you have each other.

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #fluff

[hllywdwhre]

Dress

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x fem!reader

Summary: A year’s worth of random memories between the two of you

Warnings: age gap (Cillian is current age, reader’s age is unspecified but of legal age), mentions of slut shaming, smut, light choking, unsafe sex (wrap it before you tap it)

MDNI

Word Count: 3656

Notes: This is NOT based on real life. This is an AU and we love Yvonne in this household. Also this is my first attempt at writing smut in literal years so I apologize if it’s not the best💀

Based on the song ‘Dress’ by Taylor Swift

Our secret moments in your crowded room

They got no idea about me and you

One hand gently placed on the middle of your back alerted you to his presence.

“You look stunning,” He said, low enough that no one else could overhear.

Luckily, your make-up artist had made sure you wore a full coverage foundation, as the blush tinting your cheeks would’ve been noticeable if not.

“You don’t look too shabby yourself,” you replied, glancing up at him with a small smile on your face.

You had been eyeing him the entire night, his salt-and-pepper hair hung around his face, only making his blue eyes pop due to the sharp contrast of the colors.

To anyone else, it would look like two co-stars speaking at the premiere of their movie. They wouldn’t see the way you two wanted to step closer to each other, to latch to each other’s hand, or share an excited and proud kiss.

There is an indentation in the shape of you

Made your mark on me, a golden tattoo

Cillian had made sure to take things slow with you. You were younger and he was the leading actor in the movie and he wanted to make sure there was no question about power imbalances. He made sure you were comfortable and that you knew he would’ve never used that power over you to force you into something you weren’t comfortable with. It was up to you to make the first moves… from the first kiss to the first of others.

The day after the night all of the clothes the two of you wore had been shed for the first time, you’d found extremely small bruises on your hips from his grip the night before.

“I didn’t realize I had… I’m sorry,” Cillian apologized, kissing your cheek softly as his fingers ghosted over the bruises.

“Don’t apologize. I rather like the marks and the memories they bring back,” you said, turning to him and kissing him.

All of this silence and patience, pining in anticipation

My hands are shaking from holding back from you

All of this silence and patience, pining and desperately waiting

My hands are shaking from all this

Your hands shook as you gave him the documents. Your character was supposed to be nervous, but the shaking of your hands went beyond your character.

You were surrounded by some of the greatest actors, and while you were no new actor yourself, it was still nerve wracking to stand in front of all of them, along with Chris, as they watched you. It was even more nerve wracking to have Cillian’s eyes following you — your character — as you entered the room and handed over the documents.

The shaking in your hands lessened once the scene was finished, but you still saw the way your tea wobbled just slightly when Cillian walked to you.

You wanted nothing more than to pull him close to you, but at this point, the two of you had only just begun talking. The flirty undertones were nothing near enough for you to feel confident enough making a move.

Say my name and everything just stops

I don't want you like a best friend

Only bought this dress so you could take it off

Take it off

Your heart stuttered every time he said your real name and not your character's name. When he called your name this time it was no different.

“How are you?” He asked, joining by your side as you walked away from the restaurant.

Emily had seen some of your works and was a fan of them; she had made sure to include you when inviting other members out to dinners like the one that had just finished. This was one of the few times Cillian had agreed to join and hadn’t had a reason he needed to stay behind.

You weren’t sure if it was your imagination or not, but you thought his eyes lingered on the way the dress hugged your waist for a second longer than what would be seen as just looking you over.

Your pleasant conversation continued until you reached the front door of the guest house you were placed in until your part of the filming was completed.

“Green?” He questioned as his eyes trailed down your figure again and you smirked.

“Green has always been my favorite,” you said, feigning innocence.

“I’m sure it has… it’s starting to become my own,” he told you, one hand settling on your waist to bring you closer to him.

“You said that first bit like you don’t believe me, Murphy,” you teased as your arms came to wrap around his neck.

“Perhaps I don’t,” he replied. His forehead rested against yours, tone still light and teasing despite the tension and proximity.

“Well I can’t possibly reveal the truth,” you teased back.

“And what would that be?”

“That your agreeing with Robert’s comment about us seeming to become very close ‘best friends’ a couple days ago caused me a great deal of jealousy and I’ve noticed the way your eyes seem to linger when the costume department puts me in something green. I could never tell you that or the other truth.”

Carve your name into my bedpost

'Cause I don't want you like a best friend

Only bought this dress so you could take it off

Take it off

“What was the other truth?” He asked, slowing his thrusts to a teasing pace as his hands gripped the frame of the bed.

“What?” You asked, confused on what he meant as your mind was only clouded with the pleasure he made you feel.

“The other truth, from earlier,” he said again, his hips still moving at the agonizingly slow pace.

You blushed as you realized what he meant and at the thought of revealing the little secret, despite the fact you were both naked with him buried inside of you.

At your lack of response, he moved one hand to grip your thigh and push it towards your chest, allowing himself to be buried even deeper inside you. The action caused your eyes to roll back,

“The other truth, doll,” he prompted.

“I wore the dress for more than just the color. I knew you wouldn’t be able to keep your hands off me once we’re alone and I wanted you to stop holding back,” you told him.

“You could have just told me, didn’t need to spend an entire night teasing me,” he said and began picking up the pace of his hips again, causing your head to drop back and a moan to leave your lips.

Inescapable, I'm not even gonna try

And if I get burned, at least we were electrified

I'm spilling wine in the bathtub

You kiss my face and we're both drunk

Everyone thinks that they know us

But they know nothing about

Giggles filled the air as your glasses met in the bathtub you shared, the light pink liquid spilling over the sides.

“We have filming tomorrow and we’re both going to be incredibly hungover,” you said with a wide smile on your face.

“One of us will have to pretend to be okay. Most of the crew already has suspicions,” Cillian replied, still smiling.

“And what have they said about it?” You asked as you took another sip of wine, your interest peaked by his comment.

Cillian shook his head, a look of distaste taking over his features as some of the comments replayed in his mind.

“That bad?” You asked as your face fell.

“The comments we expected,” he replied as he took a large drink of wine.

“You’re lucky to be sleeping with a younger woman, but you need to watch out because I’m after fame and your money?” You asked him, your tone revealing that you already knew the answer.

Cillian nodded and your face fell further. You looked away from him and down at the wine in your glass.

“Do you think we’re moving too fast?” You asked.

The water sloshed around you as Cillian scooted himself closer to you, his finger coming underneath your chin and lifting your face to look him in the eyes.

“Everyone is going to have something to say. Even if we were sharing equally large roles and the exact same age.” He said in a firm voice.

You nodded in response as you knew he was right.

“They know nothing,” he said as he leaned in, kissing you softly.

Flashback when you met me

Your buzzcut and my hair bleached

You hadn’t stepped foot onto the set of “Oppenheimer” until a couple months after filming had begun, due to the nature of your smaller part. You played a wife to one of the scientists involved in the making of the atomic bomb and only had a couple lines, but you had captured Cillian’s eye on the first day.

After his divorce two years prior, he hadn’t tried looking for anyone else. He had focused on his kids and his career. You coming along and capturing his attention had been unexpected and he had tried to ignore the attraction he felt at first, only to fall victim to your charm during a break in filming on your first day on set.

A week later you two exchanged phone numbers. A month later and you two were sneaking around on set like you were children all over again. One of you would somehow sneak to the other after filming was complete for the day.

The first time he had fallen asleep at your place, the overnight stay being completely unplanned and you had awoken to hear him let out a surprised “fuck!” before he gathered up his things and left in a rush.

You still had another hour before you had to be on set and laid back down in bed, scrolling through your phone. Rolling over, you noticed the spot he had left was still warm and filled with his scent.

‘I hate this haircut so much. Way too short.’ He texted.

‘I hate this hair color. Way too blonde.’ You replied.

Even in my worst times

You could see the best of me

“It’s one simple fucking scene and I can’t get it right!” He shouted in frustration.

Cillian had shown up an hour prior, saying he needed your help running lines. He was supposed to film the scene where Oppenheimer brings the calculations to Einstein tomorrow and had been pressuring himself over it the entire week.

“It’s not simple though, Cill. You’ve been working nonstop and your character is facing a huge moral conflict in this scene that you have to manage to portray in a subtle way. You’re not just doing your best, you’re doing amazing,” you tell him, standing up and walking over to him.

You gently take the script from his hands and set it down then take his hand in yours to bring it to your lips, placing a soft kiss on his palm.

“I’m sorry for snapping,” he said, pulling you into a hug and kissing the top of your head.

“Don’t be. You’re allowed to be frustrated,” you replied as you wrapped your arms around him.

Flashback to my mistakes

My rebounds, my earthquakes

“I didn’t say I was proud of it,” Cillian said with a laugh.

“Two weeks?” You questioned and your own laughter followed, showing you weren’t holding it against him.

“I haven’t been single since I was 27, I went a little crazy,” he explained as if trying to defend himself.

“I’m not passing judgment, Cill… as long as you didn’t catch anything,” you teased, causing both of you to burst into a fit of giggles.

Even in my worst lies

You saw the truth in me

“A home wrecking whore,” you said through tears, slapping the magazine down in front of him, “we didn’t even know each other two years ago and somehow I’m the reason your marriage ended.”

Yours and Cillian’s relationship hadn’t even been confirmed and already the cruel rumors had started. It was one photo of the two of you leaving a cast dinner, cropped around to look like it was just the two of you and conveniently not showing the other actors that were trailing right behind you.

Cillian was standing with his arms around you in seconds while he placed kisses on the top of your head then on both of your cheeks.

“You know better than to listen to that… that… shit,” he said, words failing what he really wanted to call that article, “you’re the woman who came around at the exact moment you were supposed to.”

And I woke up just in time

Now I wake up by your side

Light flickered into the room, Cillian’s arms were wrapped around your waist, and, for once, the sound of an alarm wasn’t what woke you up. You rolled over in his arms, facing his chest. Even at the small size he had to be for his role, you could still bury your head in his chest and curl into him.

He remained asleep as you situated yourself against him. You weren’t able to fall asleep again, but you didn’t mind. The peace that morning brought made all the sneaking around and rumors seem trivial.

My one and only, my lifeline

I woke up just in time

Now I wake up by your side

My hands shake, I can't explain this

Filming had wrapped a month ago and you and Cillian had both gone to your own separate homes. He had spent months with only phone calls to his kids to stay in contact with them and your own family had missed you. The two of you had made sure to stay in contact, phone calls made to each other when he was able to sneak away from his kids for a moment and once night had fallen.

This pattern lasted for only a couple weeks longer before you were planning a trip to Ireland and waking up back in his arms.

It wasn’t the sun that woke you up this time, though. It was the feeling of Cillian’s lips trailing down your neck and across your collarbone.

“Cill,” you hummed with a smile coming across your face.

“Missed that sound,” he said, moving to hover over you as his kisses and nips at your skin trailed down your chest.

“Thought you heard it enough last night,” you joked. Your hands trailed to his hair as his lips attached to your nipple, causing a rush of pleasure to wash over you.

“Never getting enough of that,” he replied and his mouth attached to the other as soon as the words left his mouth.

Another moan left your mouth and your hips pushed against his, causing him to chuckle.

“Seems like you’re not getting enough either.” His lips began trailing down your stomach, one of his hands running up and down your thigh as he moved lower.

“Seems like you should do something about that,” you teased.

He offered no verbal response and instead continued his trail down your stomach and hips. Your legs spread apart as he positioned himself in between them and added new love bites to the ones from the night before.

“Cillian, please,” you moaned out, your hands still in his hair and pushing your hips towards him.

“Say it again, love,” he commanded. Both of his hands wrapped around each of your thighs and he looked up towards you. His usual bright blue eyes were dark with lust and the look of hunger he held was enough to make your body shiver in anticipation.

“Please, Cillian, I need it,” you begged.

Your head dropped back as his tongue ran across your folds and offered you some amount of relief. You were convinced his favorite place in the world was with his head buried between your legs. The way his tongue danced between your lips, taking in all of your taste and moaning at your unique flavor. The grip you had on his hair tightened when his tongue pushed into you and began exploring every centimeter of you before curling up to nudge against the spot inside you that made your legs shake.

Your legs tried to close around his head, but the grip his hands held on your thighs kept you from doing so. One of his arms wrapped around your thigh and his finger traced circles over your clit. Jolts of pleasure rushed through you and your moans grew louder. They were a constant praise of his name that only seemed to egg him on in his actions.

You felt your high rapidly approaching and you let out a needy whine,

“Cill, please, don’t stop,” you mewled, your hips jerking against his face. There had been plenty of times where he would sense your climax approaching and would pull away in order to tease you until you were begging, but luckily for you he skipped the teasing and continued on.

He pushed his face impossibly closer to you, his tongue still working inside of you and pushing upwards to cause your eyes to roll back in your head while his finger continued rubbing circles on your clit.

When your climax washed over you, his head stayed buried between your legs and drank up everything you gave him. It wasn’t until your moans had turned to overstimulated whimpering that he pulled away from you and rose up to capture your lips in a kiss.

You could still taste yourself on him when his tongue slid into your mouth. Both of your bodies were pressed against each other, his chest pushing against yours and his hips grinding against yours. His cock was pressing against you, teasing both you and him as you felt the head of it sliding between your folds.

“You’re teasing yourself as much as you’re teasing me,” you mumbled into the kiss, causing him to chuckle.

“You’re right, but I love hearing your little moans when you beg for it,” he replied, pulling away and making eye contact with you with an expectant look on his face.

“But don’t my moans sound better when you’re actually inside of me?” You questioned.

He seemed to agree with you since he didn’t offer any verbal response and instead moved away from you, grabbed your hips, and quickly flipped you over.

In the couple weeks since Oppenheimer had finished filming, he had started to put back on weight… and apparently muscle as the movement seemed to be easy for him.

You rose to your knees and kept your chest pressed to the bed, arching your back and pushing back towards him,

“Please, Cill, need you,” you moaned out in that pathetic tone you knew he loved.

“I know you do, kitten, just came and you’re already soaked again,” he taunted, lining his cock up with your entrance and pushing inside of you, “feel so fucking good wrapped around me.”

“Feel so full with you inside me,” you moaned out and tangled your hands into the sheets.

Cillian’s hands came to rest on your hips, giving you brief flashbacks of the first time you had slept together and he had left bruises on your hips, though the thought quickly left your mind when he began moving his hips. He gave you only a moment before his grip tightened, his hips picked up pace, and he was bringing your hips back to meet his thrusts.

He had been able to read your body in ways no one else could since the very first time the two of you had been together. After the first couple thrusts he had changed the angle of his hips to hit your g-spot and cause your moans to heighten in volume.

“That’s right, kitten, let it out. No more sneaking around and having to keep your voice down. Let me hear those pretty little moans,” he coaxed, keeping a steady rhythm with his thrusts and making sure to repeatedly push against that spot inside of you.

A mixture of his name and swear words fell from your lips like a prayer. You could feel your second orgasm of the morning already approaching and you clenched around him, trying to give him some kind of warning as the only thing you seemed to be capable of thinking of was his name.

One of Cillian’s hands moved from your hip to around your throat, pulling you up so your back was pressed against his chest. His other hand wrapped around your hips, his fingers circling your clit to edge you on while he continued his thrusts into you,

“Cum for me. Wanna hear you moan my name as you cum wrapped around my cock,” he commanded.

Your head dropped back onto his shoulder as you came, your moans and his mixing together as your orgasm only spurred him on to reach his. After a couple more thrusts his grip on you loosened and he slowed his movements down as the two of you rode out your highs.

There is an indentation in the shape of you

…

Made your mark on me, a golden tattoo

Both of you laid back down on the bed, breathing heavily as you caught your breath. His arm wrapped around you and pulled you to him, kissing you softly for a moment before pulling away.

“You’ve made quite the mark on me, love” Cillian said, looking at you with a small smile.

A smile of your own crossed your face and a blush spread across your cheeks,

“I thought you left the marks on me,” you replied in a teasing tone, causing a small bit of laughter to leave his lips.

“Had to make sure it was mutual,” he replied in the same tone, leaning in to kiss you again.

“It definitely is,” you said with a smile against his lips.

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy x fem!reader #cillian murphy imagine #cillian x y/n #cillian x fem!reader #cillian x reader #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut #Cillian Murphy x reader smut #Cillian Murphy x y/n smut

[beardedjoel]

new addiction

boss!joel x f!reader one shot collection | part two

summary: you’ve been fantasizing about your boss, but when he leaves you a mysterious note to meet him after work hours, everything changes.

warnings: 18+! MDNI! non-apocalypse au, boss!joel is a lil mean but not too mean, oral sex (m receiving), dirty talk, unprotected piv, spit kink, size kink kinda, panty stealing? does that need a tag idk, this is a filthy nasty fic and i love it

word count: 4k

a/n: basically just a shamless one shot of joel being your boss and you getting to fuck him, this is not my most proof read work i’ve ever posted but i hope you all like it! inspired by the new taylor swift song “i can see you” it’s literally my religion right now

You feel the crinkle of the paper in your hands another time, staring down at it as if the words on the page are going to change any time soon. You read over the simple phrasing, almost wanting to trace your fingers over the inking just to check that it’s truly real.

my office

6pm

JM

You’ve been working for Mr. Miller - Joel, he told you to call him, but old habits die hard - for a little over four months now. You’d always been taught to refer to any person of authority this way, so it was taking some getting used to to just call him Joel. 

This has been the longest four months of your life, mostly due to the man in question - Joel fucking Miller, your boss, the man responsible for your livelihood, the man you absolutely should not be pining over. How you can stop lusting after him is beyond you when he looks like that - his dark hair has grown out a bit since you started, brown curls flecked with gray that match his beard traveling down his neck now. Curls you dream of sinking your hands into and tugging in the heat of the moment every single day. Every time his dark brown eyes catch yours during conversation, you have to fight your mind to stay on track.  Watching his lips move, wondering what they’d feel like on yours, on any part of your body. It’s been completely mind bending, the attraction you feel for him. 

It all started a few weeks ago, when you started to wonder if the attraction was mutual. At first, it was a sidelong glance that lasted a bit too long here and there, then a few times where he brushed his body a little too close to yours, and you’d feel the heat of it linger long after he was gone. You could scarcely breathe when he got that close to you, a few times he’d hovered behind you at your desk to look at something on the computer with you and you wondered how you weren’t combusting, flames dancing across your skin. The moment you’d felt his hot breath on your neck, you fought hard not to shudder, and when one slipped by, you cursed yourself, hoping Joel hadn’t noticed. You’d thought maybe he hadn’t, but he suggested as he walked away that maybe you get a sweater to wear inside if you were so cold.

Fucking asshole.

He had to know the effect he was having on you. No matter how hard you tried to hide it, he was flirting in his own, restrained way. The most you’d gotten out of him was when he put one of his large, my god, so large, hands on your lower back as he’d breezed past you in the small, cramped employee break room to get to the coffee machine. 

“‘Scuse me, doll,” he’d said gruffly as he passed, and you nearly choked upon hearing the little pet name from him. Doll… you’d rolled the word around in your mind the entire rest of the day, amazed you could get any work done.

It was a small office - just a little, rented space to run his contracting business out of, and you’d been hired on to do any kind of admin work, really. There wasn’t any kind of official job title, you’d just been needed to tend to the books, appointments, and making sure everything was in order. It wasn’t a bad gig, not your dream job by any means, but now that you’d fallen deeply into your infatuation with your boss, of all people, it was making it hard to want to leave. 

And if you’re honest with yourself, you should want to find a new job - Joel can be, well, an asshole, to put it mildly. He doesn’t have time for bullshit, and he makes that perfectly clear to everyone in his vicinity. All the employees at the construction sites and office do revere him, and know he’s one of the best in Austin to learn from and have on your resume as far as contracting goes. On his good days, however, he really is a pleasure to have around, and you relish in the times you get to see his warm smile and hear him laugh at one of his employees busting his balls. On those days, you can see the speck of hope that keeps the people around him in his life.

Joel typically stops in at least once a day before rushing off to check on things at his job sites, and sometimes you do worry he’s wearing himself too thin. He comes in looking exhausted some days, snapping easily and drinking copious amounts of coffee. But you have to constantly remind yourself that’s not for you to worry about - you aren’t his wife, his girlfriend, his anything. You can’t fight off the desire to be something for him, though, wanting to be there for him, to provide some kind of release for him on those tightly wound days. From there, your mind drifts to the deepest corners of depravity, thinking of all the ways you could help him release.

On one such stressful day, he dropped a note on your desk, so quickly in passing anyone else in the room might have missed it. He didn’t bother to look back at you afterwards, leaving you wide eyed, staring down at the small piece of paper that was folded in half as he continued on to his office.

You felt like you were floating the entire day, anticipation boiling in your gut as you wondered if this note could mean what you think it does. By the time 5:45 rolls around, Joel having breezed back into the building and shutting himself in his office thirty minutes ago, you’ve decided you’re either getting canned or fucked tonight, and both options are making you so nervous you might jump out of your own skin. The few people left in the office pack up for the day and head out, leaving you pretending to finish up work as you wave goodbye to them.

You stand up right on time, smoothing down the short pencil skirt you’re wearing before breathing deeply and reaching for the doorknob to his office. You knock as you open the door, poking your head in. Joel looks up from his desk, where he’d had his forehead on his palm, looking over some paperwork.

“See you got my note,” he says, his voice slightly hoarse from a day of likely speaking and barking orders at his various job sites. “Shut the door behind ya,” Joel adds, and you feel your heart jump further into your throat, a slightly shaky hand shutting the door behind you as he asks. 

“Sure. Er, what’s this about, Mr. Miller?” You fidget with your hands in front of you, resting them on your belly as you wait expectantly. 

“Joel, remember?” he replies with a cocky smile. You still haven’t quite figured out his intentions, and at this point, you figure it could go either way, and you’re bracing yourself internally for either losing your job or what could be the best sex of your life.

“Right,” you say with a shaky chuckle. “Nervous habit, sorry… Joel.”

“Nothin’ to be nervous about, why don’t ya come on in,” Joel says genially, a hint of a smirk pulling at his lips at hearing you say his name. 

You slowly make your way to the chair that’s across from his desk, a cluttered mess that you’ve learned is organized in his own way, as he always seems to be able to find everything he needs despite you offering many times to help organize it for him. S’okay, I’ve got a system, he’d repeat every single time, so eventually you’d given up on asking.

“How was your day? You seem stressed,” you dare to ask as you sit down, and Joel quirks a brow at you.

“Same old bullshit,” he says breezily, rubbing a hand down his face and pushing the papers on his desk aside, focusing his attention on you. “So fuckin’ stressed, but you don’t need to worry about all of that.”

“What if…” you start, swallowing hard. Now or fucking never. If you’re about to possibly lose your job, you may as well go out with all you’ve got. “What if I did worry about that?” you blink a few times, eyelashes fluttering in his direction and Joel gives you an indiscernible look, but you swear his eyes go a shake darker. “Just, that you’re stressed, I mean. Isn’t it my job to help you?”

Joel barely even reacts other than a flicker across his eyes that you only notice because you’re looking so intently. The bastard was probably prepared for this, like he knew you’d come in here ready to flirt your little heart out if the situation called for it.

Fucking. Asshole. But an extremely hot asshole with his eyes trained right on yours, making you melt instantly and forgetting all about the cursing him you were doing in your head.

“That so?” Joel says slowly with an amused, deep chuckle. He stands up, making his way around the desk towards you, and your heart picks up, practically beating out of your chest now. “That in your job description, hm? Help ol’ Mr. Miller when he’s stressed?” 

His tone, his body language, everything is screaming green lights for you to continue this witty repartee. “It could be, if you wanted it to,” you reply, squaring your shoulders back, not cowering from his gaze, but rather intensifying yours with a small pout of your lips. Joel’s movements over to you are slow and calculated, practically sauntering until he’s standing in front of you. He absolutely towers over you now, more than usual, his broad shoulders looking even wider from your angle below him. He leans back on the desk, perching on the edge, giving you a direct view at his crotch, a now very apparent bulge in his jeans.

“Pretty thing like you’d really want to do all that for me?” Joel asks.

You lick your lips, trying to steady your breathing. “Mhm,” you sound, and your confirmation is enough to have Joel leaning forward, placing a hand on your cheek, fingers ghosting along the skin as he makes his way down to your neck, the light trace of his calloused pads sending goosebumps along your arms.

“Like the way I’m touchin’ you, pretty girl?” he asks quietly, and you manage to let out another affirmative noise. You watch his thick fingers tracing down the top of your chest, silently begging please keep going, please. When his hand reaches the top button of your shirt, he pauses, and your legs squeeze together in anticipation. You nearly whine when he withdraws his hand, but seconds later he’s using a finger to tip your chin up, indicating for you to stand.

You meet him against his desk, his legs opening wide for you to step in between them, and you press in close, feeling unsure of what to do with your hands, how far he wants to take things. You delicately place a hand on his thigh to steady yourself, and he slips his arms around you, immediately sliding them down your back and to your ass.

“Fuck,” he mumbles as he squeezes your ass firmly through your skirt. “Such a sexy little thing, you wear this for me?”

“You’ve caught me,” you say with a sly look. The skirt isn’t anything that scandalous, but you do suppose it shows more of your legs than may typically be deemed appropriate in an office setting. You’ve always blamed the more skimpy clothing you’d wear on the hot Austin climate, but you know in the back of your mind, it was all always for Joel.

“Don’t have to wear all this to get my attention, y’know,” he says a little more tenderly, still kneading the globes of your ass hungrily, pulling your skirt up in the process.

“Seemed like you enjoyed it, all those times I saw you watch me leave your office,” you quip back.

“Damn right I did, ‘m only human, darlin’,” he says gruffly, yanking you forward, and the hardness in his jeans is pressing right into your own throbbing heat, sending a swirling wave of desire in between your legs. Slickness is gathering there quickly, leaving your underwear already wet and uncomfortable against your skin.

“On your knees, now,” Joel says, pushing you down by your shoulders until you bow under the pressure, getting down onto the carpet and sitting on your knees. “That’s a good girl,” he says with a smirk. He makes quick work of his belt and zipper, freeing his cock within moments, and it takes everything in you not to gasp at the sight laid before you.

His cock is beyond what you’d imagined - he’s a big guy overall, but you can’t say you’ve ever been with someone his size, and it’s immediately intimidating. And the bastard knows it, you can tell by his coy little smile as you look at his throbbing cock with wide eyes, taking in the size of him at full attention. You take a little comfort in the fact that he seems painfully turned on by you, the head of his cock leaking pre-cum, pink and pulsating for any part of you to be on it.

“Go on now, doll, ain’t got all night,” Joel says, snapping you out of your reverence for his cock, and you glance up to him before placing a few kisses on the head. Joel hisses through his teeth, his hips bucking forward at your face. When you lap up the drop of precum, swirling your tongue with your eyes locked on his, he lets out a full groan. You hover over his cock, letting your drool collect and fall down onto his shaft in a long string, and the warmth of it brings out a frustrated growl from Joel. He watches with darkened eyes, and his hand shoots to the back of your head, gripping your hair tightly.

“Knew you’d be so fuckin’ dirty, such a little tease,” he growls out. He uses your hair to tilt your head back, so your neck is craned up, facing him more directly now. “If you’re gonna act like that, be willin’ to take it in return, sweetheart,” Joel says more coldly. “Open your mouth.” It’s not an ask, but a command, and the authoritarian in him makes you want to listen. You pop your mouth open, shaking a little bit under his tight grip as you watch him gather his own saliva and let it slowly fall out of his mouth, straight down into yours. You taste the strangeness of the sensation, never having had someone else's spit in your mouth in such a copious amount.

“Now swallow,” he demands, and you make a show of swallowing hard, eliciting a devious smile from Joel. “And get back to work,” he says, loosening his grip on your hair and pushing your head back to the level of his cock, dripping and awaiting your mouth.

You immediately slide your mouth down his shaft, not wanting any more pushback from Joel on your teasing, and you taste the saltiness of him as your mouth stretches more than you’re sure you can accommodate. You start to bob more quickly, savoring the myriad of groans and hums Joel makes in the height of his pleasure. 

“Fuck… your mouth’s even better than I ‘magined,” Joel says, his hips thrusting in time with your bobbing, sending his cock back further into your throat. A gag slips out, but you swallow him down, allowing him even deeper as your hand works on the rest of him that won’t fit inside of your mouth. He inhales sharply before pushing you back by the shoulders, his cock leaving your mouth with a loud pop.

You barely have time to be confused by the sudden interruption before Joel pulls you up under the arms, spinning you and flattening you against his desk, and you scramble to slide back, papers and office supplies spilling and moving everywhere. He flings a frustrated hand to clear it out of the way, sending everything flying onto the floor, and you stare wide-eyed, thinking this kind of thing only happens in the movies. And here you are, living in a real life fucking movie.

Joel grips your face, turning your attention back his way before crashing his lips into yours, ravenous kisses and swipes of his tongue taking over every sense. You moan, grinding your hips into him as you return the energy of his kisses, pulling back to trace your lips along his chin, the roughness of his beard scratching your face before you reach his earlobe, giving it a few gentle sucks.

“Shit,” Joel hisses out, pushing down your chest to have you lay back on the desk. He tugs under your knees, pulling you to the edge and hiking up your skirt in the process. His hand slides up your thigh, and you’re panting in anticipation, knowing he’s about to see the very evidence of your arousal absolutely soaking your lace panites. When Joel hooks his thumbs in the sides, pulling them down, he makes a satisfied huff at the slick, shining stain that’s left on the black fabric.

“Now that’s a sight…” Joel says, holding the panties up before slipping them into his back pocket. “Didn’t know you’d wanted to help me de-stress this badly, darlin’, would’ve called you in here ages ago,” he teases you with a wry chuckle, clearly enjoying the very compromising position he has you in.

“I do,” you say impatiently. “Didn’t know if it was okay to… you’re my boss.” 

“More than okay. Y’see, I’ve been thinkin’ the same thing f’ a while now, havin’ to resist such a perfect little thing that walked right into my office one day.” He tuts with frustration, tightening his grip on your thighs. “Seen you watch me like you couldn't wait to get that mouth on this cock, sugar.”

You nod, confirming everything he said was true. “I j-ust see you so worked up, so much on your shoulders, Joel. Let me…” you heave, “Take it all out on me.”

You tempt him to take that next step, wrapping your legs around his hips, your ankles crossing over each other to pull him even closer. 

“Sure you ain’t gonna tell anyone about this?” Joel asks with a few huffs, clearly holding back from what he really desires right now. His body is radiating the unmet need of release that’s throbbing from his every pore right down to his painfully hard cock.

You shake your head wildly, the back of your head moving along the desk. You sit up enough to peer at him and make sure he knows you’re serious. 

“Our little secret,” you whisper huskily, letting a smile curl onto your lips. 

“Good girl.” Joel returns the smile, one much more cunning as his features darken and he pushes his hard cock against your opening, the large head alone already making your hips twitch with pleasure. When he pushes in you make a small whimper, but try to stuff it down quickly as he stretches you with a beautiful sting along your opening. 

“Fu… oh my god,” you murmur, as he pushes in further and further, until you’re sure you couldn’t possibly be more full of him. When he moves past even that point, you groan and realize he’s fully seated inside of you, deeper than you’d ever imagined was even possible. You quickly pulsate around him, your body adjusting to his size until it starts to feel more pleasurable than painful.

“There we go, look at that…” Joel says breathlessly. “Takin’ this cock so pretty, aren’t ya?” He doesn’t even take a beat before he begins thrusting, his massive hands holding tightly onto your hips to steady you as you jostle back onto the desk. Your back arches into the pounding of your two bodies together, warmth growing from deep inside of you where he’s hitting so perfectly. You decide that while you’d made this about him, you wanted to fulfill a fantasy of your own while you had the chance. You’d daydreamed of a certain scenario countless times over the weeks, one you intended to have come to life and turn out to be even better than you could have imagined.

“Fuck me over your desk, Mr. Miller,” you say, an extra bite on the last words, knowing he won’t correct you on his name this time. He growls, a noise deep in his throat at your words.

“Want me to bend you over ‘n fuck you right on this desk, d’ya?” Joel asks, not even allowing you to answer before pulling out of you. You brace yourself on the desk, hopping off and immediately turning around, standing up and pressing the entire length of your body back onto Joel’s. You reach an arm up around his neck and pull him down for a kiss, and he lets out a low hum, grinding into your back.

He doesn’t let it last, though, the tender kiss, before he pushes you down with the palm of his hand on your back, guiding you to rest with your ass out and body pressed low onto the desk. You pant hard, feeling slick gathering between your legs all over again at how close you are to fulfilling your ultimate fantasy with him.

Joel has no mercy, slamming his cock into you, and this angle is completely devastating, ready to ruin you at any moment as your legs immediately begin to shake when his cock hits against your walls hard. He thrusts into you over and over, and you can’t help but be anything but loud, moaning out his name and every expletive that comes to mind as you practically go wild over the way he pumps you so full each and every time. You feel tears sting your eyes, the release trying to build to a crescendo deep in your core. 

One of Joel’s hands finds your clit, rubbing tight circles and you fold, completely undone at the large pad of his finger starting to coax your climax out of you. 

“C’mon, let me feel you come on this cock, know you’ve been wantin’ to,” Joel says haughtily, and you give in to the sensation, letting the waves of practically transcendent pleasure overtake you as you come hard, screaming Joel’s name in the process.

“Fuck, sweetheart, I’m gonna - “ Joel says in the midst of your writhing, moaning mess, before being cut off by his own orgasm being pulled from your pussy squeezing his cock. He quickly pulls out, letting himself spill onto your back with a few extra jerks of his cock, the ropes of cum warm on your skin. Joel breathes heavily, caught off guard by the intensity and quickness of his climax, knowing he nearly didn’t make it.

“Jesus, sugar, gonna make a man fuckin’ crazy with a pussy like that,” Joel purrs, using a tissue to begrudgingly clean up your back - he’d thought you’d looked much better all flushed and covered in his cum, and was already plotting a way to see it again and again.

You hum a satisfied sigh, turning back to look at him before sitting up and settling on the edge of the desk. “Glad I could help, boss,” you say teasingly, and Joel already feels another twitch in his cock at your toying with him. “You still stressed?” you ask, batting your eyelashes innocently.

“You’ve no fuckin’ idea…” Joel sighs. “Got a whole new set of problems now,” he says, looking you over with greedy eyes.

“Well, you know where to find me, if you ever need any help with that,” you say with a wink before hopping off the desk and breezing out of his office, daring a last look back at him.

#thanks to my beautiful coworkers for brainstorming this idea with me i love y'all #i kind of like this meanie boss joel he's kindaaaaaa #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #fic: boss!joel

[folkookie97]

❝ blue valentine ❞ — JJK

— SUMMARY: ❝ No welcoming hugs or your voice humming one of his songs while you cooking one his favorite recipes. Jungkook noticed that you already knew about everything he did. ❞

— PAIRING: fiancé!Jungkook x female!reader

— TYPE: angst

— WORD COUNT: 883

— WARNINGS: Inspired by Babe (Taylor Swift), Ambiguous/Open Ending, Cheating, Infidelity, POV Second Person, Established Relationship/Engagement, Argument, Swearing

— NOTES: Sorry guys but today my mood is something like 'Look at this... they're holding hands. I want them dead'. But I hope you like it <3

— RELEASE DATE: February 14, 2024

— CROSSPOSTING: ao3

"You already know, don't you?"

The words left Jungkook's lips before he could control them. As much as he wanted to sound kinda nonchalant, he felt a pain in the back of his neck starting to bother him beyond usual.

He noticed what was about to happen the moment he entered the living room, closing the door behind him and without any sign of your presence waiting for him to come home. No welcoming hugs or your voice humming one of his songs while you cooking one his favorite recipes.

Jungkook noticed that you already knew about everything he did. He could see it in the dark circles under your watery eyes that kept looking at the TV in the room, even without paying real attention to the movie.

You just nodded your head, feigning disinterest about your fiancé's question — even though he could notice how your hands tightened the blanket that protected yourself from the cold.

"Honey—" Jungkook started, feeling his voice tremble and the bitter taste of blood in his throat. How many hours had he been almost biting his own lips?

Probably since he got on the plane to go home.

To come back to you.

You didn't even move, you just switch the focus of your attention for a few seconds. At the same time your eyes met his, Jungkook's heart broke into thousands of little pieces. But the gaze didn't last long. “Don't do it. I don’t wanna talk about that now, Jungkook.”

Before he could get the chance to argue against it or beg you to listen his apologies, you glared at him one more time, sending tremors through each of his limbs. He could barely sustain an exchange of gazes with you.

His fiancée. The love of his life. The one he longed to care for and protect until the end of his life. The one he should never break the heart to.

"Today is Valentine's Day."

Damn, he had really screwed up.

Swallowing hard, he nodded his head. "I... I know."

Your mocking chuckle reminded him that you knew him better than anyone. "I often can recognize your shitty attempts to lie to me. But you already knew that, didn't you?"

Fuck. "My love—" He tried to get closer to you and your double bed's edge, but the simple stretching of your hand towards him stopped his body.

Where was your engagement ring?

Something in your mind clicked on. "STOP CALLING ME LIKE THAT! ARE YOU DEAF? Didn't you listen me telling you that I don't wanna talk about your fucking cheating right now?" Jungkook's heart skipped a beat at the acidity in your tone.

The scary and new doubt in his thoughts was breaking him more than ever. "Where's your ring?"

"Wow, I'm glad you care about our engagement. When I saw so many pictures of you and that hot girl kissing at an afterparty of one of your shows, I really thought you had forgotten about it for a few minutes."

Jungkook whimpered due to your sarcasm, ignoring the fire in your gaze as he sat down next to you, already letting a river of tears run down his flushed cheeks. "Please, honey... You know I love you. That... that was a terrible mistake."

"Oh, Kookie..." His nickname never felt so painful on your lips. "I think 'terrible' is a very simple word to express how humiliating this is for me."

You felt like throwing up when he whimpered again, the bright tears suddenly progressing into a loud, annoying cry. You never imagined you would be so repulsed by looking into his Bambi eyes.

"I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. Please forgive me. Please, honey..." Jungkook sobbed, ignoring her grumbles and pulling her into a tight hug.

You tried to push him away, taking off the weight of his arms that held you, afraid that you might escape after a blink of an eye. He couldn't lose you. He couldn't do it. "JUNGKOOK! LET GO OF ME! STAY THE FUCK AWAY!"

The more you tried freeing yourself from his body, the more Jungkook cried like a little child. You hated seeing him cry, almost as much as you hated him in that moment. Almost as much as you hated the pain in your heart begging yourself to forgive him. Begging yourself to keep loving him. Begging youself to give in and ignore your own mind.

You barely realized you were also a blubbering mess until you found it difficult speaking without letting out little shaky cries. "I fucking hate you. I... I hate you so bad, Jungkook. I hate what you did to me. To us."

"Me too..." Jungkook's voice sounded more broken than before and mixed with loud crying as he lightly opened his arms, freeing you from his desperate hug. "I hate myself too..."

"You disgust me, you're so disgusting. How could you do this?" You sobbed again, using all your effort to look away. If you let yourself be carried away by those pretty eyes that begged for your forgiveness, that story would repeat itself one day. You couldn't handle the possibility of living that situation all over again. "Oh my God. You really blew this. I hate you. You don't... You don't deserve me."

"I know..."

He really knew.

#jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader #jungkook x female reader #jeon jungkook x you #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x you #jungkook angst #jungkook scenarios #jungkook imagine #bts x female reader #bts x you #bts x reader #bts scenarios #bts angst #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #jungkook bts #bts ff #jungkook x oc #jungkook ff #jungkook au #bts fic #bts au #valentines day #bts drabble #jeon jungkook #jungkook drabble #jungkook fanfic #bts x fem!reader #bts x y/n

[slytherheign]

THE ARCHER | charles leclerc

PART 1/3 OF LOVER: THE TRILOGY.

PAIRING: charles leclerc x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 1.8k

SUMMARY: nothing and no one ever stays the same, you just have to hold on and hope that everything will work out in the end. these are dark nights.

WARNINGS: angst, time skips, doubts, overthinking, and family issues. let me know if i missed any warnings. [⚠︎︎RATING: G]

AUTHOR’S NOTE: inspired by taylor swift’s song with the same title. dedicated to @a1leexxa, i hope you’re having a great day!

DESTINATION: Sweet Street | GO TO TRILOGY MASTERLIST or GO BACK TO THE STATION.

“You can’t do this alone,” your father told you, glaring at you with so much hatred and disgust.

“I can,” you replied.

“Your trust fund from your mother isn’t enough.”

“I got a scholarship.”

“You can’t survive without us.” 

You looked at your older brother, your tearful eyes asking him for support. He only stood behind your father, doing nothing.

So, this was it then.

“Watch me,” you replied, wiping the tears that escaped your eyes as you walked to your room.

Your bedroom was dimly lit, filled with scattered belongings and an empty suitcase on the bed. You sat on a chair, deep in thought.

They said blood was thicker than water, but what if that blood held you back from your dreams? What if staying meant sacrificing who you were meant to be?

You gazed at a faded family photo on your bedside table. Looking at the photo reminded you of all the times you tried to fit into their expectations. Your mother was the only exception, she only expected you to follow your dreams—the exact thing your father and your older brother didn't want you to do.

How many dreams have you crushed for their sake? But enough was enough. 

If your mother was still here, she wouldn't hold you back.

You stood up and began packing your belongings into the suitcase, quickly and determinedly.

They would never understand. They would never see the fire burning within you, urging you to break free from their judgment and limitations. Your mother taught you that dreams were worth the risk, they were worth the uncertainty that lay ahead. You refused to live a life dictated by doubts and disapproval. You knew you deserved to discover your true potential, to explore the possibilities that awaited you beyond these walls.

You zipped up the suitcase and took a final look around the room, taking a mental image of the life you were about to leave behind.

You were leaving behind the echoes of unsupportive words and unfulfilled dreams. From this moment forward, you were choosing to surround yourself with those who believed in you, and who would uplift and inspire you on the journey you were about to take. You might not have those people right now, but you trusted that you would find them soon.

You walked towards the front door, suitcase in hand, ready to embrace whatever was on the other side. You caught their eyes momentarily, casting them a glance before focusing your sight back on the door.

For years, you've allowed their lack of support to hold you back and to suffocate your aspirations. 

But not anymore. Not today.

Today, you set yourself free from the chains of conformity and rejection. Today, you allowed yourself to embark on a path of self-discovery and empowerment. 

It was time to leave.

It was time to chase after your dreams, even if it meant leaving everything behind.

It was going to be a combat, you knew that. But that didn’t stop you.

You took a deep breath before opening the door.

And then you left.

You were ready for combat.

Leaving behind the familiar and venturing into the unknown was both exhilarating and terrifying, but you did it. No one believed you would succeed when you gave up everything to move and study architecture in Monaco, but here you were, doing the exact same things they said you would never be able to do and living the exact same life they said you would never be able to live. 

Cruelty wins in the movies, but not in yours.

Your roommate turned best friend, Charlotte, became your number 1 supporter and you became hers. You may not be related by blood but you two were sisters—always inseparable and never without the other.

You haven’t heard from your father or brother after you left them. You had their numbers and they still had yours, but none of you wanted to do something to initiate a conversation. There were times when you wanted to call, you’ve got a hundred thrown-out speeches you wanted to tell them but you just didn’t know how to say them so you always ended up not doing anything at all.

Easy they come, easy they go.

Charlotte came into your life as quickly as you lost your brother and father. You jumped from the train and rode off alone, but once you reached your destination, she was there to welcome you with open arms. As far as you were concerned, she was your family now. 

“I think we deserve a night out after those exams,” Charlotte sighed, stretching her arms before preparing to get ready.

“You know I always preferred staying in and just sleeping, but for once, I actually agree with you,” you replied. 

“Oh my god, is this real? Are you actually letting me drag you out of this room?”

“Yup,” you laughed, rolling your eyes before standing up and getting ready as well. “Where are we going anyway?”

“I’m thinking the casino,” she answered.

“Girl, what?” you stopped what you were doing and looked at her.

“What?” she asked.

“What are we even going to do there?” 

“Uhh… chill and gamble?”

“Right,” you sighed. “I forgot how rich you are,” you joked.

“C’mon, you can’t say no now,” she said.

“Oh, I’m not saying no. I’m still going,” you told her.

“That’s the spirit!” she hugged you.

You went to where the drinks were while Charlotte stayed busy playing some games. You sat on a stool, waiting for your drink when a man sat beside you. You focused on your drink being made, not paying attention to who the person was. He started talking to you and you couldn’t help but look at him.

“Are you here alone?” he politely asked before he ordered his drink.

“I’m here with my best friend, well more of like my sister, but yeah,” you answered, thanking the bartender when he gave you your drink. “Are you?”

“No, I’m here with my older brother. He’s ther– wait, he’s not there anymore,” he sighed.

“I’m sure he’s somewhere,” you chuckled. “Why do I feel like you don’t want to be here?”

“I just got dragged here, to be honest,” he laughed. “I was enjoying for a while, though.”

“Was?” you asked.

“My social battery got terribly low and they all seem to have a lot of questions about my job.”

“And yet, you’re here talking to me…” 

“Thanks,” he said to the bartender before looking back at you. “Well, you looked like you needed someone to talk to. Am I wrong?”

“You’re not,” you smiled. 

“I thought so too,” he winked. “I’m Charles, by the way,” he reached out a hand.

“Charles Leclerc. Of course, I know who you are,” you shook his hand. “I’m Y/N.”

“You know me? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“You’re pretty important here, everyone knows you,” you sipped your drink. “I just figured you’ve already been pestered with questions a lot, so I’m not even going to try to ask you about F1.”

“I appreciate that,” he smiled.

“You wanna go somewhere for a bit? Somewhere with fresh air?” you asked.

“I was about to ask you the same.”

That was the night where you hit it off. A couple of years later, you were official to everyone close to you that mattered. Soon, the public would know. But right now, you were just enjoying the tranquility of being in each other’s presence.

You stared at him as he dressed himself after taking a shower. There he was, the love of your life. Every time his eyes met yours, your heart skipped a beat. His gaze was like a warm summer breeze, sweeping away all your worries and doubts.

You gently smiled when he winked at you. He settled next to you on the bed under the covers, holding your hips and turning you so you were facing him. He caressed your cheek, looking at you lovingly.

His eyes sparkled as if they were telling stories only your heart could hear and you longed to listen to every whisper they held. It was as if you were home. Home in his gaze, in his arms, in his love. And each time he looked at you, you fell deeper and deeper, discovering new depths of affection for him.

But it wasn't just his eyes that captivated you. It was the way his presence changed the atmosphere. It was the way his smile illuminated every room. It was the way his touch electrified your senses.

He placed a soft kiss on your forehead before closing his eyes to sleep.

You took a deep breath. The moment his eyes were closed, you felt the familiar cloud of doubts looming in. One moment, your heart soared, confident in the love you shared, envisioning a future bursting with endless possibilities. The next moment, shadows crept in, whispering doubts, and questioning the path you trod together.

There must be some kind of downside to this. You were happy. And you knew that every time you were happy, there would be some kind of consequence in exchange for your happiness.

You closed your eyes in hopes of dying down your inner thoughts but amidst the darkness from your eyelids, you saw the room on fire and felt the invisible smoke surround your body. You opened your eyes immediately, withdrawing a shaky breath.

You looked at Charles who was deep in his slumber. He was far too perfect. Surely, there was a dark side to him? You searched for his dark side, but what if the dark side was right where you were because it was you?

You feared the uncertainty that awaited you. What if love was not enough to weather the storms that life would inevitably throw your way? What if your dreams would someday diverge and pull you apart instead of uniting you?

It was unnerving how love brought both immense joy and an overwhelming sense of vulnerability. Charles moved in his sleep, pulling you closer to him. He must’ve felt your uneasiness because he woke up just to ask you how you were. “Are you alright, chérie?”

“I am now,” you smiled, looking at his eyes. Amidst the sea of apprehension, a gleam of hope emerged. And it was him. It was Charles.

You found solace in embracing the present moment, cherishing how his arms embraced you, and trusting that, regardless of what might come, your love would anchor you through the churning tides of the unknown.

But still, you knew those dark thoughts would still continue to haunt you in the coming days. All the king’s horses and all the king’s men couldn’t put you together, but perhaps Charles would. He could always see right through you.

You have been the archer, you have been the prey.

Who could ever leave you and who could stay?

As you moved your body closer to Charles, you felt the arrowed heart necklace he gave you shift slightly on your neck. You held it in between your fingers, and then you whispered something only you could hear while you looked at his sleeping state.

“Help me hold onto you.”

SLYTHERHEIGN TAGLIST: @writingstoraes @joshiiieeenesx

FORMULA ONE TAGLIST: @dreamingofautopia @lpab @matildrry @fangirl125reader @tall-tanned-tattoo @aundercover @stevesworld9 @princessria127

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fan fiction #charles leclerc angst #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc fanfiction #f1 #formula 1 #formula one #f1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #f1 x y/n #formula one x reader #lover: the trilogy #rheignwrites: sweet street #the archer #taylor swift #spotify #charles #leclerc #monaco #ferrari

[ghost-proofbaby]

69 + eddie munson

that number is just so fitting for eddie lmao. we love to see it. (also, are we even surprised taylor is all over my damn wrapped?)

#69: "MIDNIGHT RAIN" BY TAYLOR SWIFT (EDDIE MUNSON)

"he was sunshine, i was midnight rain."

warnings: serious thoughts of self-doubt and self-deprecation, angst?, hurt/comfort (this one ends happier i SWEAR)

wc: 3k+

There was more to Eddie Munson than what meets the eye. 

An entire town, somehow, had gotten it through their heads that the boy who lit up your days was something dark. A storm cloud, a hellraiser, a Satan-worshiper, a tornado of the utmost destruction – every nasty synonym they could roll off their tongues, they would spit at him. He was violent rain, he was uneasy nights, he was howling winds. They looked at him like an overcast for their sweet summer days, and they couldn’t be further from the truth. 

There was nothing violent nor stormy about the boy currently curled beneath bed sheets with you. Something soft and to be held – and that’s exactly what you did as the night swallows the two of you whole. You held him. His soft breaths ruffled the material of your shirt against your stomach, his curls tickling all the way up to your chest as a hand mindlessly twists at the end of a few stray strands. 

The clock on the nightstand blinks with a time far too late for you to be up, but you can’t help it. You’d woken up a few hours ago, and begged sleep to return to you, but it simply wouldn’t. Eddie had even roused at some point, twisting and noticing you awake in his half-dazed state, but his supportive state had been plagued by drowsiness, and the beckoning of his dreams won the war in the end. You didn’t mind it – it was nice to lay like this, the weight of his head on your torso and to feel his steady breathing rather than being left alone to your own thoughts. 

This town assumed Eddie was the terrible storm, but you knew better. 

He was the farthest thing from a storm possible. Even amongst his chaos, even amongst his wild demeanor, he still managed to embody the sun at the end of the day in your eyes. Warm, sought after, calming, relaxing. Bright and brilliant as ever. Those chestnut ringlets, those honeyed doe eyes – how anyone saw so much as a strike of lightning in them was beyond you. You were the one carrying storm clouds. You were the one with heavy forecasts, downpours that slaughtered in the dead of night. 

It was the thunder in your head that was keeping you awake. Not his, never his. 

“R’you still up?” he mumbles, nearly scaring you. You hadn’t even noticed that he’d awoken again, too busy staring at the ceiling as you watched shadows of the current rain trailing down the window reflected on the walls. 

“Yeah,” you whisper, looking down, moving your fingertips from the ends of his hair to his scalp before scratching in small circles, “Go back to sleep, baby.” 

“Can’t-” he starts to mutter, cutting off in a yawn as he twists so that his face is no longer buried in your chest, eyes still pinched shut for a moment before he can continue his thought, “Can’t sleep if I know you’re up. What’s bothering you?” 

Endless things. Your chest was coiled in terrible knots, strangling you on repeat with each second passing as you had been left alone with your thoughts. Haunted by every echoing step you had taken the last few days, taunted by every word you hadn’t said. 

Just how many mistakes had you made in the last twenty four hours alone? And how had they still, somehow, led you home to him? What had you done to be deserving of him?

“Just the storm,” you lie easily, keeping a soft tone, still trying to beckon him back to sleep. As if on cue, a distant roll of thunder can be heard following a brisk flare of light through the window pane. 

But his wide eyes only blink up at you, clearly awake now, “‘s that all?” 

His words are still slurring together a bit, but as he lifts his weight off of you, you know there’s no coaxing him back into rest. There’s no facing the storm alone tonight – and not the one that currently pelts the outside of the house. 

You can’t look him in his eyes. You’re terrified for him to see the rolling waves of nimbus formations behind your own. 

“Yeah, that’s all,” you say, patting your chest, trying to change the topic, “C’mere. Lay back down, there’s no use for us both to be tired tomorrow.” 

He sits up fully, your hands falling from his scalp, out of reach as he balances on his knees with a face of newfound determination, “I’m not letting you just lay here awake while I use you as my own personal drool catch. I know there’s something more than the storm bothering you.” 

Damn him. And damn his attentiveness. 

Even with the moonlight illuminating him, he emits his own specific shine that gleams golden through the dark room, striking you right in your heart. Your boy made of sunshine and kindness, good intentions and a pure heart.

Your sun. 

“It’s stupid,” you start, picking at the threads of the comforter as he settles to lay comfortably beside you. In an instant, the positions are switched, and he’s pulling you to lay on his chest, “I just… It can all get a bit loud, you know?” 

It’s not about the people in the town who talk. Not an ounce of their gossip can really get to you, hardly scratching at your skin. At most, they only leave their mark when they talk badly of Eddie. And even then, you know your truth. 

“We’re the talk of the town again, huh?” Eddie chuckles, fingertips grazing at the small bit of the nape of your neck that’s exposed from beneath the neck of your shirt. Lazy circles, wobbling triangles, hardly-distinguishable squares. All mindless shapes that he’s probably unaware of painting over your skin, and they send shivers down your spine all the same. 

It’s not the people in the town who are loud. 

It’s that voice in your head, the whisper that he’s too good for this. There is something simply so inherently good about the boy that lays beneath you. Something so golden, so warming that it aches and nearly stifles you. He deserves more. He deserves someone who can offer him the world, not someone who will never manage more than rotting away with the worms below the dirt. 

“Why did you choose me?” you blurt out before you can think better of it.

The storm outside the window picks up in pace, raindrops racing faster down the glass. You try and pick one to follow in particular, but they all disappear quicker than they appear to begin with. 

“What do you mean?” 

You can’t make sense of it, the way he loves you. As if he doesn’t see the storm always on the horizon, as if he can’t feel the sharp pain that resides permanently within your chest. A pain you were born with, a pain you’ll surely die with. The nasty thing that pangs every time you grow too comfortably, that screams for you to run when things get too good. 

You just don’t get it. 

“Everyone is always asking me why I’m with you,” you wish you could choose your words more carefully, but you can’t. They only come tumbling out, an avalanche of honesty over the crack of thunder that sounds, “Saying things like how I’m so nice, how you’re so… so… not. And I just don’t get it, because you are. You’re… everything, Eddie. You’re the sun incarnate, so good and so nice at your core. And they never have time for me to wax poetic, to go on and on about just how good you are. They always act like you’re the impending doom, and I’m always in danger, when it should be the other way around.” 

His slow motions on the base of your neck pause, “I’m not sure I’m following along, sweetheart.” 

You lift your head, look up at those eyes that could hold an entire Universe inside of them. The kind that do when the sun’s rays hit them just right in the daytime. He is everything. Every star, every first bloom of spring, every fresh breath of air. 

And you aren’t.

You’re built off of late nights and terrible troubles. Of racing thoughts and sweaty palms, and a mouth that always fumbles with its words. Something unhinged and something unattractive at its core. It’s not the outside so much, not that you don’t feel pretty enough for him, but the inside. That inner natural disaster waiting to happen. A tsunami of forces waiting to engulf you both, drown him right along with you. 

You want to run because you want to save him from that fate. You can’t save yourself, but you could save him. 

“I’m the storm, the unpredictable and violent one,” you choke out, placing a flat palm on his chest, “You’re… not. They think you are, but you aren’t. You deserve better than to sit around with me, waiting for the clock to strike midnight and for my torrential downpour to start. You don’t deserve to sit in the rain with someone who isn’t worth it.”

How many breakdowns had he already bore witness to? How many late nights had he already sacrificed his rest to spend talking you through a spiral? How many times had he given up all that he deserved, just to sit in the rain with you? 

“Quite the metaphor you’ve got going there,” he laughs under his breath, but all the joking fades when he sees that disaster-torn look cross your face, “Have I ever told you how when I was younger, and it would rain, I’d insist on sleeping with the window open?” 

Your brows furrow, “What does that have to do with-”

“You have your wild metaphors, let me have mine,” he interrupts, sitting up a bit, leaning forward until your forehead nearly bumps against his, “Wayne hated it. It would get everything soaked – the curtains, the carpet, my desk – and it would run up his electric bill. Said he’d always come into my room in the morning to find me shivering under the covers, and have to run up the heater to stop my teeth from chattering. The old man never lets me forget, either,” he pauses, and brings a gentle, warm palm up to your cheek, “But even after countless lectures, you know what changed? Nothing. Every day, whenever I saw the clouds or smelled the rain coming, I still got so damn excited. I still ran home to open up my window, and I smiled like a fool the entire fucking time. It only drove Wayne more insane.” 

“Okay?” you question, peering into his eyes, still not following, “So, you love rain. Are you trying to say you want to open the window right now? Or-”

“You’re so close to getting it,” he chuckles, closing the distance between the two of you, shutting you up with a brush of his lips against yours. 

“Getting what?” you mumble into his mouth, frowning a bit as he pulls back and his lips hover. 

That palm holds you steady, keeping you close as his other hand wanders to your hip, giving a soft squeeze to the tender flesh, “I love rain.” 

He loves rain. 

Your mind twists and gravels, tries to make sense of it when you’re still so consumed by him. The brush of his lips against yours as he whispers. The caress of his breath over your cheek, still minty from when the two of you had brushed your teeth together before bed. The warmth seeping out of his skin against yours, warming you even as the storm wages on. The smell of his sheets mingling with the damp air fighting through the vents from outside. 

He loves rain.

It clicks. 

“You love rain,” you say carefully, eyes fluttering open to find him already looking at you. 

He nods, forehead finally bumping yours. “I fucking love rain. Always have, always will.” 

The storm within your head that had been raging for hours, that had kept you up as your sunshine had slept soundly, goes still as night. It all stops – the wind, the thunder, the downpour. Every single thought halts in its tracks as you look at a boy who’s watching you with such adoration, with such promise of offering up the entire world if you asked. You have his heart in your hands, and he’s well aware you could destroy it at a moment’s notice, but he trusts you. 

He loves you. 

“Now, come here,” he insists, scooting back on the bed until his back is flush to the wall and his arms are wide open for you to crawl into. You don’t deny him. Slowly, you make your way to his chest, letting your ear press against his skin and listen to the steady and sure rhythm of his heart as his arms wrap around you, “We don’t have to go back to bed, but you do have to let me be here for you. Let me just sit with you in the rain, with the window wide open, yeah? Your storm can get the curtains wet, you can freeze me out – I don’t care. I like the storm… I love the storm,” he whispers as you settle against him. You finally glance at his old alarm clock, the one Wayne had bought him back in sophomore year when he’d insisted he was tired of waking the boy up every morning. Those blinking numbers read 12:43 just as his lips press to your temple, “I love you.” 

Such a quiet declaration. Full of meaning, full of intent. The only rain still pounding away is the one outside of the trailer, sounding off in a tinkling tune of water against metal slates. It’s almost melodic as you feel his exhale against your hairline. 

“I love you too, y’know?” you whisper right back, a hand coming up to curl around his wrist as he places his hand on your shoulder. It’s not enough to just hear his heartbeat; you need to feel the pulse beneath his skin, thumb digging in helplessly as you focus on just him and his rays of light as your clouds begin to break, “I’m sorry if I’m hard to love, or dramatic sometimes-”

“Never,” he cuts you off, “You’re never hard to love, sweetheart. Not for me.” 

No more words are needed as the seconds pass and the two of you stay like that. You, counting every beat of his heart. And him, still bleeding sunshine even in the black of night. Messy crown of curls, a smile that never quite leaves his lips. It’s impossible to wrap your head around – the boy who could light up even the darkest of rooms, who glows even at midnight, loves the rain in a way you never thought possible. Loves your rain specifically, and all the storms you always fear and battle with through every sleepless night. It doesn’t phase him in the slightest. 

“Are you ever going to get tired of me?” you ask, more out of curiosity than insecurity now as your fingers fall to trace over one of the tattoos inked into the skin of his chest, “I mean, I know you say you love rain now, but people can change. Hell, even I’m changing constantly. No two storms are ever exactly the same, or whatever the fuck they say.” 

“Do they say that?” he murmurs. You can hear the sleep returning to him, drawing him under, “To answer your question, no. I don’t think I will ever get tired of you. Change all you want. I’m just happy to be here.” 

You smile, and you know he feels it as he squeezes you a bit tighter, “What if I decide to shave my head tomorrow? Or dye my hair the ugliest shade of neon yellow I can find? Or tattoo my entire face?” 

“If you dye your hair neon, can you dye one of my strands to match?” you snort at his response, tilting your chin to catch him looking at you with a playful smile, “And I’ll still love you if you’re bald. As a matter of fact, I think I can see a bald spot already forming on the back of your head, so…” 

Your hand flies up to your hair, feeling for what he’s talking about as he descends into cackles. Head fully thrown back and eyes tightly screwed shut. 

God, he’s beautiful. Too beautiful for you to even get genuinely upset with his teasing. 

“Fuck you,” you say as you realize he’s joking, forcing a faux pout and throwing your head back down onto his chest hard enough to make him emit a small oof, “If either of us are going bald, it’s you.” 

He gasps, still dramatic even as he’s half-asleep, “How dare you. I was even going to offer up some of my luscious locks to make you a wig if you needed it.” 

“You don’t have long enough hair for that.”

“Yet,” he insists as your eyelids grow a little heavier, “I’ll just keep growing it out. You know, in case you need it, even though you were so mean to me.” 

Your body sinks deeper into him, as if you could bury you both into the safety of this mattress for the rest of your days. 

“I hate you,” you lie, half playful as the thunder outside the trailer becomes nothing more than a lullaby. 

He slips down further into the comforter, resting his head on his pillow rather than the uncomfortable wall as he holds you tight to him, “I love you, too, my little rainstorm.” 

You don’t even have a quick defense against his teasing nickname as sleep takes hold of you. You’re already far gone, eyes shut and mind slipping away as he kisses the top of your head before joining you. 

Storms are easier with Eddie. Window open and all.

#ghost's tunes 2023 #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson angst #but also #eddie munson fluff #i want someone to love me the way i write eddie lmaooooo #i could have gone SO VERY SAD with this one but I DIDN'T and for that i am so brave

[folklaur21]

Never Find Another Like Me

Pairing: Lorenzo Berkshire x fem!gryffindor!reader

Summary: When you and Enzo broke up, you promised him that he'd never find anyone like you. Despite trying to replace you, you are the only one who is on his mind.

Warnings: Flashbacks, use of Y/N, some perspective change (ish), kind of cheating at the end (but not really lol) & Cormac McLaggen is in this fic 🤮🤮🤮

Word Count: 1.8k

Right now, Lorenzo Berkshire was annoyed. No, he was beyond annoyed, he was pissed. There you were, sat at the Gryffindor table with Cormac McLaggen's arms wrapped around your shoulders as you giggled as if he's the funniest person in the world. Which he isn't. Enzo stabbed his bacon very aggressively with his fork and stared at you. How could you have moved on already. Granted, it had been two months since he had broken up with you, but surely you couldn't have found someone as good as him yet. And he couldn't believe the person you had chosen to move on with was the biggest douche in the school. Cormac Bloody McLaggen.

"Enzo, mate, you're spraying scrambled egg everywhere." Theodore Nott grimaced at his friend as he wiped egg from his robes. "What are you even looking- Oh."

"Yeah. Oh." Enzo replied, putting his cutlery down. "How could she have moved on already? It's only been two months."

"To be fair, Enz, you have been out with about ten different girls," Theo shrugged. "Who's to blame her? It looks like you've moved on."

"They didn't mean anything! I was just looking for some relief. A break. You know what I mean."

"Yeah, I know. But you can't get mad at her for doing it too. You broke up with her, remember. This is your fault." Theo remarked as he went back to eating his breakfast.

Theo was right. He had been the one to end things. How stupid he was. Enzo glanced up at you once more, but this time he actually caught your eye. Flustered, he looked down at his plate and pushed his food around with his fork. How could he forget when he lost you?

"What do you mean, Enzo?"

You were quite mad now, tears threatening to spill down your cheeks. You couldn't believe it, your boyfriend was breaking up with you, and you didn't even understand why.

"It's just... I think we need a break, that's all."

"Enzo, we're not Ross and Rachel. What the hell do you mean by a 'break'?" you ask, your resolve destroyed.

"Who are Ross and Rachel?" Enzo asks, confused.

"They're just characters from a Muggle TV show. It doesn't matter." you shake your head. "Why do we need a break? I know that I'm a handful." You pause for a moment before asking in a small voice. "Am I not good enough for you?"

Enzo sighs. "That's not what I said."

"It's what you meant though, wasn't it."

"Y/N-"

"No. I get it. You're the kind of guy that ladies want. And there's loads of cool chicks out there who aren't me. Trouble always seems to follow me."

"Please, it isn't that you're not good enough for me. Nobody said that. But I don't think we're right together. And, it's not you, it's me."

You roll your eyes. "Don't pull that card with me." You grab your wand off of Lorenzo's desk and take your coat from his bed. "Bye Lorenzo."

As you reach the door and open it, you turn around to face Lorenzo as you leave. "Enzo?"

"Yeah?"

"When it comes to a lover, I promise that you'll never find another like me." With that, you close the door and walk out, out of the Slytherin common room, out of the dungeons, and out of Enzo's life. Forever. Or so you thought.

And now you were here, sat in the Great Hall, talking to your friends whilst your boyfriend had an arm wrapped around you. Your boyfriend who wasn't Enzo. No Y/N, stop. You weren't supposed to be thinking about him. You were over him. People who are over their exes don't think about them.

But you aren't really over him. Not really. McLaggen is an awful person. He's not even funny to make up for it. So you thought one glance at the Slytherin table wouldn't do any harm. Just a look. But when you looked over, you couldn't look away. Until he looked back. Your eyes met. And now, all of a sudden, you wondered why you hadn't tried to ever fix things with the boy who broke your heart.

"Hey babe! Enzo!"

When you heard the name, your head whipped around. You were sat in the courtyard doing your Charms homework, when you saw Lavender Brown run over to Enzo and wrap her arms around his neck, pulling him close to her. Ew. What was he doing with her?

"Hello darling. How has your day been?" Enzo said with a charming smile, warm enough to melt chocolate.

"It was good, thank you." Lavender said, giggling hysterically. So uncool. Why was he even with her anyways? He had always said how much he despised her. What had changed?

Enzo wrapped his arm around her shoulders, and the two of them made their way towards where you were sat, by the fountain.

"Hey Y/N!" Lavender chuckled. "How are you?"

"Good," is the only word you can get out before feeling like you want to throw up, grimacing as you say it.

"Well, my boyfriend, and I are going down to the Black Lake? Do you want to join us? You can bring Cormac." Lavender smirked again. It seemed as if she knew how frustrated this made you.

With a forced smile, you manage to say, "No thanks. I'm studying. I hope the two of you have loads of fun." You don't even try to disguise the hint of venom in your voice, glaring up at Lorenzo, who just stares into the distance, seeming to not have noticed your gaze.

"OK then. Bye Y/N. Enjoy studying." Lavender laughs as her and Enzo walk away. As you stare at the back of his head, you suddenly wish you had fought harder to keep Enzo.

"Mate, what's wrong? You've been distracted all lesson, and usually you love Potions." Theo nudges his friend while Snape isn't looking.

"Sorry." Enzo says, snapping out of his mini trance. "Just thinking about stuff."

Snape walked past their desk and to the front, making a comment on todays potion. Amortentia.

"Remember," he drawled, "to get the spelling correct in your notes. Spelling is fun."

Everyone in the class sniggered, trying to disguise it in front of their terrifying professor.

Theo continues his and Enzo's conversation after the class has settled down. "Well, you thinking about stuff is never good. What is it? Did Lavender break up with you?" Theo asks, putting his quill down.

"No. I broke up with her." Enzo says, picking at the corner of his parchment.

"Good. She wasn't right for you anyway. And you always had your tongues down each other's throats. A bit gross if you ask me." Theo shrugs nonchalantly. "Now, if it wasn't that, what's bothering you."

"It's nothing, honestly. Just... thinking about someone." Enzo says, as he looks over at you across the room. You were taking notes on the potion you were studying in your lesson today. Enzo smiled to himself as he watches you lick your lips as you focused on your work.

Theodore follows Enzo's gaze and sighs. "Is it Y/N? Again? Mate, I told you, you broke up with her, too." Theo looks at his friend knowingly. "If you want her back, you have to get her back. Yourself."

"But what is she doesn't want me back? What do I do then?"

"Well, if that happens, then you are back where you are now, but this time you'll be crying to me every night because you know that she doesn't feel the same way anymore." Theodore didn't have to worry about that. He knew you wanted him too. Theo was always there and saw you staring at his best friend, even when Enzo himself didn't notice. You loved Enzo and Enzo loved you. That's how it is. You were perfect for each other. And you just needed to believe it.

You rushed up to the top of the Astronomy Tower, clutching a piece of paper in your trembling hands that you had received at breakfast that morning from a random owl that you didn't recognise. You didn't recognise the handwriting in the note either, but you knew who it was from. Or, at least, who you believed it was from. The note read:

Meet me at the Astronomy Tower at midnight. I need to apologise, and I need you to understand why I did what I did. Please don't tell anyone you are going, at least until after you've been. I love you.

The note was probably from Cormac. The two of you had fought the other day about him flirting with other girls, and hadn't spoken for a couple of days. It was probably an apology, out of sight of everyone else. Cormac didn't do apologies. He sat with you in front of people, but wasn't much of a behind-the-scenes boyfriend. You were shocked when you got the note, but thought nothing of it, as Cormac didn't do any public displays of affection.

However, when you reached the top of the stairs, it wasn't Cormac you saw. It was Lorenzo.

"Enzo? You sent me this?" you asked as you held up the note.

"Umm, yeah. I did. I kind of needed to talk to you. About us." Enzo said that a bit sheepishly, and he stares down at his feet.

"Enzo, there is no us. You ended it. And I'm happy now, I'm with Cormac too." You force out a small smile. "I'm happy now." That was a lie. You were happiest when you were with Enzo.

"I want you back, Y/N. I don't think I can live without you." Enzo walks towards you and grabs your hand. You want to pull away, but something in your heart tells you not to. Stupid heart. Always meddling.

"Enzo, we can't. You're with Lavender, I'm with Cormac. And we didn't work the first time. What makes you think we get a second chance?"

"Firstly, I'm not with Lavender anymore. And who cares about Cormac anyway? You don't love him, I can tell. And he had his hands all over a Ravenclaw girl this morning. Sorry." He said the last bit with an ounce of sympathy, but you didn't really care about Cormac right now.

"OK, but that doesn't change things with us." You say, crossing your arms and trying to look angry.

"Look, I know I tend to make it about me. A lot. And you never get just what you see, but I won't ever bore you. And there's a lot of lame guys out there."

"I guess." You sigh. "Remember when we had that fight out in the rain? You ran after me and called my name..."

"I never want to see you walk away. Ever." Enzo wraps his hands around your waist and pulls you closer to him. "I love you, Y/N"

"I love you too Enzo." You grab his face and kiss him, forgetting about any of your previous worries now that you had your Enzo back.

A moment later, you pull away and break the kiss. "Enzo?"

"Yeah?"

"I was right," you say with a smirk.

"What do you mean?" Enzo asks, his lips pulling upwards into a quizzical smile.

"I promised that you'd never find another like me!"

P.S. I hope you liked the dividers!! They're basic but I made them lol.

#slytherin #slytherin boys #theodore nott #harry potter #harry potter universe #fanfic #y/n #fanfiction #x reader #lorenzo berkshire #enzo x reader #x y/n #x you #x you fluff #x y/n fluff #wizarding world #hogwarts #cormac mclaggen #slytherin x reader #slytherin boys x reader #theo nott #enzo berkshire #taylor swift #me! #me! taylor swift #lover #fluff #lorenzo berkshire fluff #enzo berkshire fluff #taylors version

[supernovafics]

•*⁀➷ ❝ 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐆𝐋𝐎𝐖. ❞✭・.✫・

supernovafics!

✭•*⁀➷ an ex-childhood best friends steve harrington series inspired by the song “afterglow” by taylor swift ·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

in which you move to hawkins during the summer of ‘79 and from the moment you meet your next-door neighbor, steve harrington, you two are inseparable. from pool days to movie nights to christmas traditions spent in the playground in your backyard, it seemed as if there was absolutely nothing that could pull you two apart, even with the changes you both went through during high school. however, then there is always that age-old cliche of “falling for your best friend” that brings about unexpected and seemingly one-sided feelings. and it is also the catalyst for one moment that changes absolutely everything between you and steve. and then you move away, and for nearly two years there is nothing but radio silence between you two. things are completely different from how they used to be, but maybe some letters filled entirely with brutal honesty can change that. because yes, it’s been years since you both talked, but are things truly beyond repair for you two? 

warnings: childhood best friends to strangers, set post-season four but a lot of references to steve from past seasons, mentions of stancy, (assumed) unrequited love, explicit language, a lot of angst, some fluff, besties being besties, two idiots in love, soft!steve, insecure!steve, specific warnings will be tagged per part

total wc: 16k

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

❝letter zero (intro)❞

❝letter one❞

❝letter two❞

❝letter three❞

❝letter four❞

❝letter five❞

❝letter six❞

❝letter seven❞

❝letter eight❞

❝steve’s response❞

❝phone call❞

❝california❞

#steve harrington fic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington series #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #stranger things fic #stranger things fluff #stranger things imagine

[book-place]

For the Taylor swift lyrics prompts maybe can u do #13 and #6 with the batfamily? But pls make it mostly Damian lol

I'm pretty sure 13 is "I won't let anything bad happen to you" or smth and 6 is "sneaking in/tapping at your window in the middle of the night"?

So maybe they're injured and they promise to protect them...?

Oh and Damian n reader are long time friends!!

And congrats on 2k likes!!

[Celebration]

Thank you so much!! <33

Never Grow Up

6. “Sneakin’ out late, tapping on your window.”

14. “I won’t let nobody hurt you.”

A gentle rhythmic-like tapping on your window made your head turn up in confusion. It was well into the early hours of the night, but even then, you didn’t know of anyone that would try to reach you by going to your window.

Carefully, you gracefully slipped out of your bed and peered up at your window, limbs relaxing automatically when you saw Damian crouched on the fire escape.

You slid your window open, eyebrows furrowing in confusion as you looked upon your long-time best friend, “Damian?” You asked in a soft voice in hope of not waking your family in the next room, “What’re you doing here?”

The boy slid into your room with ease, standing before you with his arms crossed over his chest. You knew him long enough to be able to tell by his stance alone that he was worried and on edge.

“I have come to check on you.” He stated matter-of- factly, “You had a large wound in the side of your arm the last time I saw you, and you left before I had the chance to question you about it.”

His eyes narrowed in an accusative manner, and you couldn’t help the small pool of guilt that found its way into the pit of your stomach.

You, along with Damian and his family, were Gothams very own vigilantes, going out every night in order to keep the city safe. The two of you worked together almost constantly, and having each others back the way you did, it was rare for one of you to get injured to the extreme that you had that night.

Flinching a little bit at his hard look you knew was meant to mask anxiety about the situation, you crossed your arms over your stomach, taking special care not to move your injured one the wrong way.

“I didn’t want you to worry,” You told him honestly, “And I had it under control.” The second part might have been a little less than honest.

“Tsk.” He scoffed, rolling his eyes slightly, “It did not appear that way to me.”

A sign left your nose, “I stitched myself up just fine, Dami,” You informed him, “There was nothing to worry about.”

In full truth, you were honestly embarrassed about the whole thing. You and your best friend always fought side by side- within each others eye sights at least- so that you could be close by if things went south. This night though, you had accidentally wandered off and been taken by surprise, attacked from behind in a way that was near impossible to fight off, leaving you with a gash in your arm.

“I didn’t know where you were.” There it was, the first crack in his mask, a small ripple in his cold facade, “All of a sudden I couldn’t see you, but I managed to catch a brief glimpse at you, covered in blood before you ran away.”

You softened. Had the roles been reversed, you not only would have been beyond scared and upset about the whole ordeal, but you also would have been guilty and angry. Guilty that you couldn’t stop it and angry at those who did it. And you knew Damian well enough to know that he was feeling all of the above.

“I’m sorry I left.” You told him softly, “I really didn’t mean to.”

Damian’s eyes raked over you, studying you for a moment, “We need to take extra care to stay together.” He finally said, “That way, I can make sure that no further harm comes to you.”

You smiled softly, “I’d have it no other way.”

The Superior Robin ❤️- @ineedmorefanfics2 @sambucky8 @spidyyparker @i-writes-things @ladyagagaslefttoe @xbergiex

#book place’s 2k followers event #speak now: book place’s version #platonic #platonic imagine #x reader #batfamily #batfamily x reader #damian wayne #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne x reader platonic

[thebadgerclan]

I Can See You

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova x reader

Summary: Secrecy is necessary...for now...

Based on “I Can See You” by Taylor Swift.  Italicized lyrics are taken from the song!  This song has SUCH secret romance vibes, and I thought who better to write something for it than Aleksander

You brush past me in the hallway, and you don’t think I can see ya, do ya?  And I’ve been watching you for ages, and I spent my time trying not to feel it

It was impossible not to be attracted to the General.  Almost everyone at the Little Palace had felt it at one time or another, both men and women longed for a scrap of the General’s attention, and somehow, you had caught his eye.  It was something you’d noticed, that the General’s gaze would linger on yours for just a second longer than it did with others.  You had caught him looking at you from across the room at dinner on multiple occasions, and that simple action lit a spark within you.

You had spent years pining after the General, try as you might to douse your feelings for him.  But it was useless.  He was devastatingly handsome, and behind his cold, dark exterior, you could see hints of brightness.  How you’d enter the War Room to find him reading a novel, how you’d see him out a window, walking, his face to the sun, a gentle smile on his face.

Everything had changed one day, when you’d been walking through the corridors, a folder in hand to deliver to the General.  He was walking in the opposite direction, and the world came to a stop when his hand brushed against yours.  You locked eyes with him, and he subtly nodded towards a nearby door.  It was then that he asked you to officially join his War Council, an offer that you eagerly accepted.

And we kept everything professional, but something’s changed, and it’s something I like

Something had changed, everyone could see it.  You sat at the General’s right hand, a position of honor.  He was more open with you, happier.  He even told you his name, Aleksander, and asked you to call him that when it was just the two of you.  He invited you to dine privately with him to discuss the war and strategy, and in council meetings, when  he handed you a folder or a document, his touch would linger for several seconds, and when his eyes met yours, they blazed with unspoken words.

It was during one of these private dinners that Aleksander made his move.  Instead of pulling out your chair like he’d done before, he pulled you into his arms, his hands spanning across your back.  “Tell me to stop,” he said, and you looked into his eyes, seeing adoration, attraction, and passion there.  “Y/N, tell me to stop.”  “No,” you responded, and in that moment, your fate was sealed.  Aleksander kissed you then, lips soft against yours, arms tightening around you.

Aleksander was happy to take what you gave him, his kiss wasn’t insistent, there was no intention to escalate the night beyond this.  When you pulled away, your cheeks were flushed and your eyes were wide.  “Y/N,” he sighed.  “How long I’ve wanted to do that…”  “How long?” you asked, and he chuckled.  “Far longer than I care to admit, my dear.”

They keep watchful eyes on us, so it’s best that we move fast and keep quiet

Now that you and Aleksander were…whatever you were, secrecy seemed appropriate.  If word got out that you were together immediately after your elevation to being the General's second, people would whisper that you’d only gotten the promotion because you were sleeping together.  Which hadn’t even happened yet; the last thing Aleksander wanted was to pressure you.

So you moved in secrecy.  You crept through the halls, a lantern in hand, avoiding the guards that patrolled the corridors by moonlight.  When you arrived in Aleksander’s rooms, he took the lantern from your hand and pulled you into his arms, kissing you sweetly.  “My love,” he cooed, making you smile.  “I’ve missed you.”  “I was with you all afternoon, Sasha.”  “Yes, but not truly with me,” he said with a warm smile.  “This is what I’ve wanted all day.  Just you in my arms.”

You won’t believe half the things I see inside my head.  Wait ‘til you see half the things that haven’t happened yet

Just because you hadn’t been intimate with Aleksander yet didn’t mean you didn’t have fantasies.  They were fantasies that kept you up at night, that drew your hand between your legs, that had you biting your lip to keep from moaning and waking everyone in the Little Palace.  Aleksander on top of you, Aleksander licking your cunt, Aleksander taking you from behind, you riding Aleksander, Aleksander, Aleksander, Aleksander.

But what would you do if I went to touch you now?  What would you do if they never found us out?  What would you do if we never made a sound?

The lines in your relationship were clear: behind closed doors, Aleksander was completely and irrevocably yours.  He would worship at your feet if you asked him to, he was that smitten.  But in front of others, you were a General and his second, professional to a tee, never letting the two parts of your lives cross.

But you wondered what would happen if one day during a council meeting, you reached out to take his hand.  Would he go along with it, kiss your knuckles as he loved to do?  Would he squeeze your hand before carrying on the conversation?  Or would he pull his hand back, deny you his touch until you were alone?

Would your relationship remain a secret forever?  Would you continue to sneak into Aleksander’s rooms at night and sneak back to yours before dawn?  Would you have to bite your lip and silence your cries of pleasure at night so no one would find out about the two of you?  You understood why secrecy was needed at first, but as time went on, you found yourself wanting more.

‘Cause I can see you waiting down the hall for me Seeing Aleksander waiting at the end of the corridor that led to his rooms always filled you with joy.  You sped up your steps until you were running towards him, leaping into his embrace.  Aleksander held you tightly, smiling against your hair.  “Hello, my love,” he muttered, kissing your brow.  “I have your favorite dinner waiting for us.”  You grinned, taking his offered hand and entering his rooms.  Rooms that were slowly becoming yours.

And I could see you up against a wall with me

It was the first time you had almost gotten caught.  Aleksander had caught you on your way back to your room, where you seldom slept anymore, and pressed you into the wall, kissing you soundly.  He pressed his thigh between your legs, making you gasp.  “I want you,” he breathed against your lips, but before you could respond, you heard footsteps approaching down the hallway.

Aleksander leapt away from you, straightening his kefta while you smoothed your hair and hoped you weren’t too flushed.  A young Inferni and his friends hurried past, barely noticing you and Aleksander.  When they passed, you both broke out into laughter, and Aleksander took your hand.  “I think we should go to my rooms, love,” he said, and you nodded.

I can see you in your suit and your necktie.  Passed me a note saying “meet me tonight”

He’d pressed the note into your hand at the end of the War Council meeting, and you only unfolded it when you were alone in your room.  Y/N, I could see you being my addiction, and it’s an addiction I no longer want to hide.  Come to my rooms before dinner, my love.

You did, finding Aleksander waiting anxiously in his sitting room.  “I’m done hiding us,” he said, taking your hands in his.  “I love you, and I don’t care what anyone thinks about it.  So, if you want, I want to dine with the other Grisha tonight, with you at my side.”  For months this was all you’d wanted, and you eagerly nodded.  Aleksander smiled, kissing you softly.  “We’ll see about getting your things moved to my rooms, too,” he said, linking his arm with yours as you made your way to the dining hall.

#aleksander morozova x reader #shadow and bone fanfiction #the darkling x reader #general kirigan x reader #shadow and bone reader insert

[prettyboywoll]

♡ Lover - Joseph Woll ♡

warnings: none?

Notes: this fic is based off the song lover by Taylor swift. Hope you guys like it!

“We could leave the Christmas lights up 'til January

And this is our place, we make the rules”

“It feels nice to have our own place” Joseph whispered, taking in the view of the new place you guys had purchased. He wrapped his arms around your waist to bring you closer to his body placing little kisses on your temple and neck.

As you stood there, it was finally your turn to take in the new place you had been dreaming of for so long. The excitement and anticipation you felt were palpable, and as you looked around at your dream home, it almost didn't feel real. You couldn't help but imagine the memories you would make here with your future family, and the thought filled you with joy. This was the place where you hoped to build your life and raise your children, and you felt happy to start that journey with Joseph by your side.

“Do you know what this means, Joey”

“That we can finally do it wherever we want?” He smirked, moving his hands to let them rest on your ass. Joseph laughed when he heard you gasp and hit his shoulder.

“I’m serious, baby”

“So am I. I’m kidding.. not really but what were you gonna say, love”

"Come with me," you say, grabbing his hand and intertwining your fingers. You lead him towards the grand entrance hall, where the breathtaking view of the backyard, the cozy living room with a small fireplace, and the sleek modern staircase leading to four bedrooms, an office, and an upstairs lounge area await.

As you gaze around, a wave of excitement washes over you. You can already picture all of Joseph's teammates, friends, and family gathered here, especially during the holidays. The thought of Christmas in this house is making your heart race with anticipation. You turn to Joseph and exclaim, "Jo, I'm going to transform this house into a winter wonderland! We'll start decorating November 1st, and we'll keep them up until January or February when I feel ready."

Joseph looks at you with admiration and affection, tracing his fingers over your cheek and giving you a soft smile. He brings you closer and kisses you with passion. "I'm all for it, honey. Whatever makes you happy," he says, and you know that this is the beginning of something wonderful.

“We could let our friends crash in the living room”

As Matthew prepared to leave, he turned to ask, "Are you sure it's alright for me to stay over?". You walked over to gently push him towards the couch, reassuring him that it was perfectly fine, and that Joey would even make him breakfast in the morning. Joseph soon joined the conversation, carrying a spare pillow and blanket for his friend, and placing them carefully on the couch. He turned on the fireplace and handed Matthew the remote.

"Make yourself at home. We know you don't want to go back to your place. The guest room is open if you change your mind”

Matthew settled himself comfortably on the couch, turning on the TV to watch a movie. "I’ll be ok," he said, "You guys know I love this couch. I'll sleep like a baby here." As you bid goodnight to Joey and turned off the lights, Matthew had already made himself at home, cocooned in blankets and pillows, drifting off to sleep in front of the warm fireplace.

“And at every table, I'll save you a seat, lover”

Joseph always felt comfort and security when you sat next to him. He cherished moments spent whispering sweet nothings to each other, feeling a deep connection beyond words. Your mere presence gave him warmth and happiness that he couldn't find anywhere else. He often found himself lost in your eyes and your voice, feeling like he could stay in that moment forever.

"Hey Joey, can I sit next to you?" Matthew asked, already knowing the answer. The goalie blushed and shook his head. "That spot is for my girlfriend."

Joseph eagerly anticipated your arrival at the restaurant. When you walked in, he was stunned by your beautiful black dress that hugged your curves perfectly. He stood up to greet you and pulled out your chair. "God, you look stunning, love."

Joseph spent the entire night kissing and praising you. His hands never left your body. He ignored his friends' teasing and focused on your smile and laughter.

#joseph woll #toronto maple leafs #maple leafs #nhl writing #nhl imagines #hockey imagine #hockey writing #matthew knies

[dr3amscap3]

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐀𝐆𝐍𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐌𝐒 ┊𝐕𝐈𝐋 𝐒.

┊Vil Schoenheit x Reader ┊Angst to Fluff ┊In which (Name) and Vil have an argument leading them to not speak for a week. In turn Vil has a nightmare of (Name) dying. ┊Requested by : Anon ┊CW : Angst, Alcohol, Arguments, Death, Nightmares, Injury, & Fluff ┊Note: this fic is inspired by champagne problems by Taylor Swift ┊Word Count: 1313

In all honesty, the fights have never gotten that bad. It should’ve never gotten that bad.

You didn’t know which was worse, perhaps it was the insults he bombarded your way, perhaps it was the champagne glass that he threw in a moment of rage that now lay shattered on the floor, or perhaps it was the silence that held so much grief and guilt in the air.

“(Name).... I... I didn’t mean-- “ Vil had a look in his eyes so distinct, yet so foreign to you, he had a look of grief, a look of guilt, and a look of sorrow. Vil’s hand shakily went up to his mouth to stifle a sob as he saw the terror in your eyes. He watched as you moved to walk out.

He watched, yet he didn’t act.

He should’ve acted, he knows he should’ve, but he can’t anymore, for you were already out the door.

His pocket feels a little heavier now.

One week. Seven days. One hundred sixty-eight hours. That’s how long it’s been since he’s talked to you. Yet still he continues to catch glimpses of you in the bustling crowds of the student body, he continues to see you sitting around campus with a hint of hurt hidden in your eyes.

He continues to stare longingly at you from afar, missing your love for him, regretting how he let your love slip far beyond where he could reach.

And perhaps it was when you moved to walk away from his view... perhaps it was the moment he realized he was never ready to lose you, yet still, he had to watch you go off to a place where he cannot be, of to a place where his heart is not welcome.

In his sorrow, he decides to return to his dorm and pour himself a glass of Dom Pérignon, deciding to drink his problems away. But he supposes he should stop drinking, for this is what had gotten into his mess. He tries to recall what you called this problem of his.

“Ah... right, they called it champagne problems...” Vil lets out a wet bitter chuckle as tears stain his face, he knows he should stop, yet he downs another glass.

Tonight, with a guilt-ridden heart woven from the strings of a broken tapestry that only your hands can mend, he sucks down his pride and gives you a call. Yet to his dismay, it is not your voice that he loves so dearly that answers, instead the voice that answers is foreign, yet it holds an apologetic tone.

“Hello I am a nurse from the Isle of Sages hospital, are you perhaps a relative of (Name) (Last Name)?” The voice, now identified to belong to a nurse, asks.

Vil isn’t a relative of yours, yet he lies through his teeth, desperate to know why a nurse answered his call and not his beloved.

The next words the nurse utters causes Vil to lose his grip on his phone. He can’t hear anything but the ringing of static and white noise. Vil cannot tell if the sounds hurt his ears, he cannot begin to fathom what he feels, he cannot begin to process such sorrow, such pain.

Instead, Vil is speechless, for a man who has given the students of his dorm so many lectures and scoldings he is finally rendered speechless.

He doesn’t even notice as the tears cascade down his face, he doesn’t notice as the tears fall bellow, soaking the carpet on which he stands, he doesn’t notice a sob break free from his lips, he doesn’t notice the way he clutches his chest in despair, he doesn’t notice the way he mutters soft apologies to you, hoping you hear, yet knowing you can’t.

Then he wakes up, his heart pounding profusely, everything felt as if it was closing in on him, everything was hitting him all at once, the guilt, the fear, and the sorrow.

He let out a soft sob as he recalled the nightmare. “A nightmare... it was simply a nightmare...” Vil reassured himself, yet his mind wandered to scenarios in which maybe this wasn’t simply a nightmare, maybe it was a vision or a memory.

So he grabbed a small item and he ran. He ran barefoot to the Ramshackle Dorm, knocking on your door frantically. “(Name), (Name), let me in please...” Vil’s knocks became desperate, yet finally, to his relief, you opened the door, albeit you were still a tad groggy, having just woken up moments ago. Yet Vil didn’t care about appearances, he didn’t care about the fact that you were both still in a fight, he didn’t care. He simply engulfed you in a hug and sobbed, he muttered apologies into your hair.

“I’m sorry... I’m so sorry...” Vil continued to sob, his entire being shaking with each gasp of air. “Forgive me (Name), please forgive me.” Vil begged, desperate for your forgiveness, desperate for your love.

“Calm down, my love. It’s alright.” You whispered gently, combing your fingers through his hair, it has always been your way to reassure and calm him.

“You... you died and I... you...” His voice contains hints of fear, sorrow, and guilt. Vil continues to whisper apologies and cling to you.

“Let me stay here... please... I don’t think I can sleep alone tonight...” Vil pleads softly, looking at you with eyes that held so much guilt and apologies that words cannot even begin to describe.

It takes a cruel person to turn away someone who is as vulnerable as Vil is at the moment, and fortunately, you are not a cruel person, you gently usher him inside and pull him into another tight hug.

As you both go up to your room he whispers one last apology to you before you pull him on the bed and take him into your arms gently. Vil was never the type to be held, always fearing for his appearances, yet tonight was different, he needed this, he needed you.

Neither of you could fall asleep, so you both talked, admitted your faults, and uttered apologies, it wasn’t until the break of dawn when Vil finally confessed what he wanted to say that night.

“Marry me.” Vil blurted out boldly. “I was unsure if I wanted to propose that you left, I was unsure if we were both ready, but one week without you had proven that yes I do need you, and yes it was idiotic of me to almost lose you.” Vil admitted, gently holding the ring out.

“I know we will continue to have our fights and our disagreements, I know we won’t always see eye to eye, but I promise I will never let you sit alone and hurt. I promise I will never let another crestfallen look grace your face again, not even for a moment. I promise that if you trust me with your heart once more I will treat it as if it were glass and I would never drop it, not again."

“This life was once a madhouse before you went and changed it for the better, the moment we first met was the moment I knew that it would be your hand that I would always hold when we will be dancing. The moment we met was the moment I knew that you would be the one to mend my shredded tapestry of a heart.”

“So please...” Vil goes down on one knee, “Marry me."

At the nod of your head, a happy sob escapes from Vil’s lips.

“I think I would be fucked in the head if I didn’t say yes.” You say with a smile as Vil chuckles at your words.

You both will always have disagreements from time to time, and sometimes there won’t be a fine answer to those disagreements, yet you both will always try to find a compromise for every problem, even if the problem was something as silly as a champagne problem.

This has been in my drafts for far too long. Decided to finally finish it!!

Tags : @gingeywolfey @luxaryllis @raix-lv @ruru-kiss @blankescapades @deimospheres @gh0stbastard @kiriesdreamworld @hmmmmmm-give-me-your-gender

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#twisted wonderland #twst #twst angst #angst #twst x reader #vil schoenheit #twst vil #twisted wonderland vil #fluff #twst fluff #taylor swift #champagne problems #did this on a call with lux #twisted wonderland fluff #twisted wonderland angst #disney tw #disney twisted wonderland #vil schoenheit x reader #arguments #mentions of death #proposal #romance #broken heart #vil #—Mika Writes ✧ #evermore #omg 1313...

[paracosmic-murdock]

Tell me what are my words worth ; Benedict Bridgerton x Reader

Chapter 22: "Une dame fait ce qu’une dame doit"

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary: It has been two years since your secret was exposed and you had to leave London. Two years with deep buried misery and in which you missed everything you used to have. However, neglect, novelties, and letters made sure to give you more than one reason to return to claim someone who is as rightfully yours as your estate and your people: Benedict Bridgerton.

Warnings/tags: idiots in love, eventual smut, mutual pining, (kinda???) enemies (fake, this is just pride) to lovers (surely), bisexual benedict bridgerton, feminist themes, historical inaccuracy (for the sake of the plot), inspired by mulan (1998), song: the lakes (taylor swift), other tags to be added

Chapter summary: Your return has brought misfortune to whoever had it coming, and you were far from done. But one thing was for sure: you might had already gotten your divine punishment, but everyone else would too as long as you live to ensure it.

Word count: 1.5K

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The dinner was tense enough for Gregory and Hyacinth to be worried.

They made questions nobody dared to answer, and Anthony tried his best to distract the family and focus on a much more important matter: your wedding.

While neither Eloise nor Colin were present at the dinner, you weren't affected by their absence. Or at least that's what you were trying to tell yourself.

You knew Eloise was mad at you but were ignorant of Colin's thoughts. He loves Penelope now, so there must be a conflict between love and duty.

And Eloise was mad, but you were madder.

You should feel guilty, and you should believe you went too far after Anthony's radical decision; but you were not. Not when your life was still at risk, and you still had people trying to hurt you.

But you weren't scared of her.

What else could she say now that would hurt you more than she already did? Nothing at all.

So now you, Benedict, and Lady Bridgerton were at the Queen's palace with news.

“I take this particular set of people visiting me altogether as a good sign.” She gave you a knowing look.

You smiled widely. “Indeed, Your Majesty.”

“We came to extend our invitation to our engagement ball,” Benedict said. “We will send the invitation to the wedding as soon as they are ready, Your Majesty.”

“We would be honored to have you,” Lady Bridgerton added. “You are also welcome to stay at the Castle with the family.”

“I shall make sure you get the second best room.”

The Queen chortled at your last comment. “My child, I would be enchanted to accompany you on a day as special as your wedding and your engagement ball! Give Brimsley all the information and count on me being there.”

“We would not be here today without your help and blessing,” you added. “So I wanted to make sure you were the very first person outside of the family and the Council of Burgundy to know about the wedding.”

She gave you an approving smile. “And for that, I am beyond honored, Your Grace.”

After exchanging your farewells, the three of you left the Palace.

“That was certainly fruitful,” Lady Bridgerton noted. “She even addressed you like one would a duchess.”

“I did not know you two were friends!”

You scoffed. “Friends? We are like family!” you exaggerated jokingly. “I do not know, my heart. She gave me her support and her blessing. The Queen was quite moved with my story, so I can only assume that is the reason.”

“That is right,” Lady Bridgerton added. “Don't you think we should announce your engagement at the ball tomorrow?”

“I believe that is proper. Is it not, my heart?”

“It sure is,” you nodded. “I must visit the modiste right after so she can make my wedding gown as I promised her.”

“Madame Delacroix?” Benedict questioned.

“In the flesh.” You confirmed.

He swallowed hard at the thought of his ex lover making his bride's wedding gown, but figured a better moment to inform you of his previous rendez-vous would come soon enough.

“I shall join you, dearest.”

Benedict cleared his throat. “We will make a stop at the Academy before getting home. I have been absent far too long.”

“It is just fine.” you agreed. “Your mother and I were thinking of visiting Lady Danbury before teatime.”

He nodded.

The way to the Academy was longer than you remembered. You laid your head on Benedict's shoulder and held hands under his mother's loving glance.

“We have arrived,” Benedict announced. “Goodbye, Mother; goodbye, my heart” He gave you a quick kiss on your lips, and you gladly corresponded.

“Benedict Bridgerton, you stop that!” Lady Bridgerton scolded him and hit his knee in apprehension.

“I was just saying goodbye to my future wife!” He defended himself and ran out of the carriage hiding his laughter. You smirked, too.

“You cannot let anybody see you two doing these kinds of things, my dear,” she advised. “I understand the passion shared between a pair who love each other as much as you and my son do. I have seen it in Daphne and Anthony, too. I experienced it with Edmund…, but you must be careful. Society isn't approving of this, and it could lead to rumors none of us want out there.”

“I understand, my Lady,” you replied. “Shall we go to the modiste now?”

She nodded. “Of course, dearest.”

“I suppose les rumeurs were true.” Madame Delacroix commented. “You and Mr. Bridgerton are engaged to be married.”

You smiled. “I told you firsthand. I said it myself.”

“You were rather cunning, were you not?”

“A lady does what a lady must.” you replied.

“Was your departure to France a carefully planned scheme, too?”

You clicked your tongue. “Is that French persona of yours a scheme as well?”

“What is it that you want, my Lady?” she inquired, knowing that your knowledge was enough to ruin her. That nothing was worth the detriment of her reputation.

“I know that Penelope Featherington is Lady Whistledown, and I know you do, too,” you said. “And, as you know quite well, she has exposed me as a result of that tantrum of hers… That slowed my plans and ruined everything I had worked for for my entire life. I was not interested in marrying at the beginning, though I knew that the only way to recover what is mine, was to marry a nobleman. The first time my eyes encountered Benedict's, I knew my aversion to men and a loving marriage was gone and buried. I decided that he was the gentleman I wanted for myself, and I would not have let anyone ruin it for me. Penelope Featherington did, completely unprompted.”

“I understand,” She looked at you as she measured your bosom. “What is it that I have to do?”

“Mere falsehoods were enough to get rid of Miss Prince. A sudden departure and a letter were enough to recover Mr. Bridgerton's affections,” you noted. “Now, once you make sure that Lady Featherington finds out that her daughter, Miss Penelope, is Lady Whistledown, she will have lost her family's slight presence in her life. I, also, am aware that you know where Lady Whistledown has her issues printed, do you not?”

Madame Delacroix nodded. You gave her a paper with something written on it. “You give them this in her name as soon as Lady Featherington learns about Penelope's activities.”

“What will happen if I do not do it?” she asked.

“If you inform Penelope, I guarantee you I will find out; if you do not go along with my plan, I shall find out, too,” you began. “If I do not see this issue published promptly, I myself will make sure to have everyone find out you are not French at all, that all is a ruse.” you warned. “However, if you do, I shall make sure for everyone throughout Europe hears your name and admires your designing skills.”

“I see.”

“I believe that an opportunity like this is more than enough to convince you.”

She smiled nervously, knowing you were right. It is a sacrifice she was certainly willing to make.

Just like you said, a lady does what a lady must. It applied to her as well.

Lady Bridgerton returned to the room. “I am certain the ballgowns will be absolutely perfect.”

“I could never doubt a French woman's judgment when it comes to haute couture,” you told her. “I trust her more than enough to have her design my wedding dress. My gown for the Engagement Ball as well.”

“That sounds most wonderful.” she agreed.

“Even my cousin, the King of France, will be there!” you exclaimed. “Queen Charlotte is my guest of honor, not to mention the Princess of Monaco and my dearest friends from Belgium.”

The faux française smiled brightly. “I am most pleased to hear that.”

“You would be much more pleased to hear them compliment your designs to your face.” you promised, winking at her.

Madame Delacroix nodded.

The decision was made.

Dearest gentle reader,

It is an enormous shame to inform you I was cruelly misinformed and had this all reach your eyes. With this, I mean Lady Y/N of Burgundy's rumor.

I am, unfortunately, not referring to her engagement to Mr. Bridgerton, no. I am referring to her alleged secret, to her purpose in Mayfair and place in the Royal Academy of Art.

Beloved reader, it is the first time a thing as such has occurred to me. Therefore, I was obliged to clear the situation, for her life could be thoroughly affected by this grotesque lie. The future duchess of Burgundy has done nothing but gracing us with her presence in London.

There certainly is a resentful force that planted this rumor like poison ivy seeds. But, who could it be? An old acquaintance of the Bridgerton's? A maid looking to marry into this widely known family? Perchance an envious soul? I am hopeful you will stay true to me in order to find out.

Walls talk, the breeze informs… Surely the truth will come out sooner or later, and I shall make sure, dear reader, that you find out first-hand.

Sincerely yours,

Lady Whistledown.

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