#gracie abrams fanfiction | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mrsmangi · 3 months ago

Text

found - luigi mangione

♡ summary: luigi spends his nights haunted by dreams of you—vivid, tender, and impossibly real. each morning, he wakes with the ache of losing you, over and over, with no foreseeable end. how much more can he take? ♡ w.c.: 6.3k ♡ a/n: hi. this is a continuation of my fic, past life. it was absolutely devastating to write, but i will post this with pictures of luigi in his red sweater (again) to make myself feel better because it's my favorite outfit of his thus far. hope you guys enjoy!

♡ trigger warnings: this work contains themes of depression, grief, and suggestive content. please proceed with care.

—

The soft click of the apartment door echoes in the stillness as Luigi steps inside, his hand lingering on the cold metal doorknob for support. The familiar scent of perfume drifts toward him, engulfing him in a warmth that feels too good to be true. He pauses, a faint flicker of awareness settling in his mind.

Luigi is dreaming, again–he knows it. The clarity of the moment, the way every detail feels sharper than reality feels unmistakable, but he knows this isn’t his world.

These dreams had become more frequent since the first–when he had met you. He felt each of them pulling him into this world, further and further down the rabbit hole, where you waited for him. Although he was beginning to become acquainted with it–his abnormal awareness in his dreams–, it never stopped feeling strange to him. It was as though he continuously existed in two places at once: as the man in his dreams, showered with intimacy from his lover, and the man outside of it, alone.

He is unsettled. Not just by the vividness of his illusions, but how natural it all feels, as if this version of his life is just as real as the one he always returns to in the morning. The longer Luigi stands, the harder it is to ignore the whispers of longing plaguing the back of his mind. Despite knowing it isn’t real, he can’t help but wish it were.

So, he chooses to stand and take it all in. It feels like home.

That’s when he sees it.

Streamers criss-cross on the ceiling in haphazard lines. Balloons floating lazily in corners of the living room. Taped to the wall in large, uneven letters is a banner that reads: “WELCOME HOME, LUIGI! ♡” Glittery, colorful, slightly crooked letters–but perfect. He blinks, heart dropping to his stomach. An overwhelming sensation; one that pleasantly surprises him.

You stand in the center of it all, clutching a poster board almost as tall as you, the word “HI” scrawled across it in colorful marker and uneven glitter glue. Your grin (that beautiful grin he just adores) stretches wide. You are sunshine personified, he realizes fondly, a dazzling beam of joy. You only grow brighter the moment your eyes lock.

Immediately, you burst into laughter, poster board slipping from your hands and clattering to the floor as you sprint toward him.

“Luigi!” you call out, voice bursting with excitement and relief.

Before he can react, you crash into him, arms wrapping gently around his waist. He stumbles slightly, caught off guard, body stiff and protesting the sudden movement. He doesn’t care. Dropping his bag to the floor, he folds himself around you, breathing in the familiar scent of your hair. The warmth of your body against his is almost enough to make him forget the ache in his back and the heaviness of his legs.

Your lips find his in a kiss so tender, he thinks his knees might buckle from beneath him. For a moment, Luigi feels no pain. The accident never happened and he was never escorted to the hospital, or bedridden for over a week. There’s just you, soft and warm and impossibly close. He leans into you, hands curving around your waist, melting into place.

When you finally pull away, your hands cup his face, thumbs brushing over his cheekbones as you study him. “Hi,” you whisper cheekily.

“Hi,” he breathes.

“I missed you so much,” you sigh. “You have no idea.”

Luigi’s lips twitch into a faint smile. His chest swells with gratitude. “I missed you more,” he confesses softly. Luigi knows this won’t last. It never does.

The welcome banner, the streamers, your smile–none of it will follow him when he wakes. He’ll wake up, alone in a bed half empty because you won’t be there. But even knowing all of it, Luigi lets himself savor every moment he has with you, holding onto you like a lifeline.

He will let himself believe it’s real, even if it’s just for a fraction of a second. The pain in his spine becomes more pronounced, and he can’t tell if it’s just because he’s post-recovery or because he knows this is only temporary, especially when he wants it to be permanent so desperately.

“Are you still with me?” Your voice pulls him out of his thoughts. He snaps out of it, looking down at you as you smile up at him, teasingly. You always seem to know when his mind begins to wander. You are so patient. He likes that about you.

“Yeah, sorry. Just thinking,” he pauses, arms still hooked around your waist. He looks over the room once more. “You didn’t have to go through all this trouble just for me.”

“Don’t be silly. It wasn’t any trouble and even if it was, yes, I did,” you say. “You’ve been stuck in bed for over a week in that awful hospital room. I just couldn’t wait for you to come home. I wanted so badly to remind you how loved you are.”

Luigi swallows hard. There’s a lump in his throat that makes it impossible to speak. Instead, he tightens his hold on you, burying his face in the crook of your neck. You only laugh and run your fingers through his curls. For however long it lasts, he wants to lose himself in you. Pretend this fleeting world of light and warmth and all things good will last forever.

“I don’t deserve you,” he murmurs into your skin, quietly.

“Stop that,” you scold gently, pulling back to meet his eyes. “You deserve everything, Luigi. I’m just getting started.”

You take his hand and lead him to the couch, guiding him to sit down. He winces slightly as he lowers himself onto the cushions, a strain in his back reminding him of his limitations. You notice in an instant, as perceptive as always. Your hands flutter over him as though you could soothe his pain with sheer willpower.

“Are you alright?” you ask, worry etched into your features. “How is your back? Do you need a pillow? A hot pad? Water? Anything?”

He chuckles despite himself, shaking his head. “I’m okay,” he reassures you, although the throbbing of his spine indicates otherwise. “Better now that I’m home. With you.”

You kneel between his legs, resting your hands lightly on his knees as you tilt your head up to look at him. “Bedridden for over a week and still handsome as ever,” you tease. The tone of your voice is playful, but there’s something in your expression that feels darker. He releases a shaky breath, clearing his throat subtly.

“Talent,” he replies dryly, a small smirk curving across his lips.

You laugh. It sends a pang of languish straight to his heart. It hasn’t hit him just how much he’s missed hearing that sound until now. It’s only been a few days since the last dream, but to him, it’s felt like years.

“Seriously, though,” you say, eyes softening. “How are you really feeling?”

He hesitates, smile faltering. “I’m getting there,” he admits. “It’s still difficult. The pain isn’t great, and I’m not exactly thrilled about having to take it easy for who knows how long. But…” He gazes at you, then around the room. All the effort you had put into making this moment as special as possible. All for him. “Coming home to this? To you? It helps so much more than you know.”

His heart skips three beats at once when you grin, leaning forward and resting your cheek against his knee. “Good,” you say gently. “I’m so excited to have you home. It’s so boring without you.”

He breathes out another laugh, but before he can reply, your hands slide upward. Your fingertips trace the pattern of his jeans–slowly, deliberately. He feels his breath hitch as you gently pry his legs apart, movements unhurried but undeniably calculated. There’s a lustful glint in your eye that sends a jolt of heat through him. He doesn’t find it in himself to look away, entranced by your movements.

“You’re stuck with me now,” you whisper, kissing the inside of his lower thigh gently. “You’re not going anywhere.”

Luigi’s breathing becomes heavier as you work your way up his thigh, and he opens his mouth to reply, but the words never come.

—

When he awakes, Luigi stirs in discomfort. His eyelids feel heavy as they open slowly. The emptiness of his apartment hits him like a tsunami. The silence washes over his body, drowning him. His legs feel sore, his chest throbbing as he lays motionless, staring at the ceiling.

He rubs a hand over his face, as if he could chase away the remnants of the dream, but it’s done in vain. He knows he couldn’t erase you from his mind, even if he tried.

“Are you even real?” he wonders aloud, eyes boring into the plain paper of the ceiling above.

When no one answers, he sighs. He sits up and the pain returns. In his head, in his back, in his stomach, and within his heart. His mind feels foggy.

It’s not just the dream that haunts him, but the life within it: the life where you exist, where he isn’t so fucking miserable and alone.

The day unfolds sluggishly, each hour stretching longer than the last. Reluctantly, Luigi forces himself out of bed, his body protesting every movement. He spends the morning shuffling through small, mindless tasks–folding laundry he forgot to put away, wiping down the counters in his kitchen, and clearing the clutter off his nightstand. All things that should distract him, but in reality, it does little to lift the weight pressing down on his chest.

Even as his apartment is neater and cleaner, he feels no real sense of accomplishment nor satisfaction, only a quiet, gnawing emptiness eating away at his being. His thoughts always seem to drift back to you.

By midday, he stares blankly at his computer screen, shuffling through emails he has no intention of answering. A notification from a friend briefly catches his eye, but he hesitates to respond. What could he even say? There’s nothing to say, he tells himself. The words feel distant, unreachable. Instead, he closes the laptop and sits in silence.

The hum of the fridge in the next room is the only sound that breaks the stillness. When his stomach eventually growls, he throws together a half-assed sandwich, eating it mechanically while staring at the muted television. The show he puts on–once a comedy that made him laugh–fails to hold his attention. The afternoon drags on. Luigi drifts from task to task with no real purpose, his movement more on autopilot than anything else. He tries to focus on a book he’s been meaning to finish, but the words blur together on the page.

“Fuck off,” he groans, setting it aside and leaning back into the couch he sits on. The ceiling stares back at him.

The evening settles in. He makes another half-hearted attempt at cooking dinner, though the plate ends up sitting untouched on the counter. The hours stretch endlessly, and all he can think about is how desperately he wants for the day to end. He misses you.

He needs you.

He needs to feel tethered to something real, even if it’s only fleeting.

Luigi’s eyes drift to close, the corners of the room growing hazy and darkening as he dozes off.

—

“You don’t have to push me away, Luigi.”

Something is different about this dream, Luigi notices. He can hear it in the way you say his name: unbearably frustrated, but somehow still gentle. He feels it in the strange sense of detachment that ties him to his spot before you. Although he knows this is just a dream–just another insufferably short dream–, the words manage to make him flinch, as if he’s a match struck against sandpaper. There’s a fire catching in his heart before he has the chance to smother it, and the flame is your voice.

His body reacts before he even has the chance to register that it’s your voice. He feels like a passenger in his own skin when it hits him: he’s not in control.

He feels his hands curl into fists at his sides, nails biting into the flesh of his palms. There’s a familiar tightness in his back sending sharp, burning pulses of discomfort through his body down to his legs, one he can’t simply ignore, but it seems painless in comparison to the throbbing of his stomach.

Are you two fighting? He doesn’t want to fight.

“I–” Luigi begins, but the words get caught in his throat, trapped by the weight of his shame as he gazes at your confused expression. He can’t look at you like this, so he doesn’t. He shifts his gaze away.

“You’re shutting me out again,” you say. Your voice is steady, but he hears the tinge of pain it carries. It’s familiar, it’s recognizable; a pain similar to his own. “I know you’re hurting. I know this feels absolutely frustrating and impossible to overcome, but do you really think I would leave you because of something like this?”

He hears himself release a sharp, harsh breath, turning his face away as his jaw tightens. He runs a hand over his mouth before holding his head in both hands. “It’s not as simple as that,” he hears his voice mutter. There’s a bitterness in his tone that he can see startles you from his peripheral vision. It startles him, too. He pretends it doesn’t bother him. He sees the flicker of hurt in your expression; he wants to reach for you, to tell you that he’s not in his right mind, but his hands remain motionless. He keeps talking. “You don’t get it.”

“Then help me get it,” you urge him, stepping closer to him.

He’s sitting on the couch. You kneel before him and take the hands that carry his head into your own.

“Luigi,” you breathe, eyes scanning his face for a sign of understanding. “You don’t have to carry this alone. Please, let me be here for you. I want to stay.”

He can’t look at you. He trains his eyes to burn holes into the carpet rug of the apartment floor.

There’s a numbness that he feels settling in, brushing against the nape of his neck, crawling its way down his chest and curling upward to his temples. His heart churns and twists beneath his skin. He’s caught between his desire to let you in–let you hug him, console him, reassure him–and the fear of his inescapable reality: he will drag you down with him if he allows you to remain with him any longer.

I don’t want to hurt you, he thinks. The words you hear instead are: “You have no idea what it’s like.” His voice is low, tremors racking his throat. “You have no idea what it feels like to wake up, knowing I can’t be everything that you deserve.”

“Luigi,” you plead. “Luigi, you are everything to me.”

“You say that now,” he laughs bitterly, shaking his head, “but what happens when it’s too much?” He finally looks up at you. He feels the word vomit creeping up his throat. This doesn’t feel like him. He can sense it–he’s about to say something he’s going to regret, but he can’t help himself. You need to know.

“I can’t do the things I used to,” he says as a matter of fact. “I’m 24-years-old. I’ve barely lived. I can’t surf or hike or go to the gym like I did before. I can’t even fucking sit for too long without feeling like my spine might shatter. It seems like every single, miniscule movement I make fucks with the way my entire body feels. My friends are getting sick of hearing how depressed I feel–” He pauses, making eye contact with your broken gaze before continuing. “And you,” he breathes, watching your nostrils flare as tears well in your eyes. “You’ve been so fucking patient with me, baby. You’ve been so damn good, and you know, I can’t even fucking make love to you,” he hears his voice crack. He sees your eyes glint with indignance and he knows you’ll attempt to protest. He continues.

“Do you know what that’s like? To look at you and not be able to give you that part of me anymore.” His hands twitch on his lap, fists clenching and loosening.

Luigi sits in horror of himself. He wants to take the words back, to silence the voice coming from his mouth, but he can’t do anything but watch. It’s torture. Can’t he just shut up?

No, he can’t. The person in charge of his body keeps going.

“It might be a stupid thing to be worried about, but I know I can’t pleasure you like I used to. You can sit here and deny it all you want, but you and I both know ever since that stupid, fucking accident happened, everything has been different and it’s not just about the sex. You drop everything for me to go to doctor’s appointments, pick up my prescriptions, you don’t go out with your friends or see your family anymore. I mean, for fuck’s sake, baby,” he places emphasis on your name, tearing his hands out of yours to grasp your face.

His thumbs brush your cheekbones, holding your face as if it was made of porcelain. They wipe away your tears. Tears he’s responsible for prying out of you. Luigi has never hated himself more.

“Your whole life has been placed on hold for me,” he whispers. “You’ve given up so much. How am I supposed to live with myself knowing that? I’m a burden to you.”

You’re staring up at him, helpless. He knows the words hang in the air, igniting an overwhelming silence to suffocate the two of you. The thought that he’s pushed you too far, teetered your state of being over the edge, crosses his mind. He desperately hopes that isn’t the case.

As your tear-filled stare searches his face, he has a feeling it isn’t, but there’s something unreadable in your expression. There are hints of perplexion, hurt, and confusion, but something else. Something healing: tender, unrelenting love.

Slowly, you reach up and he feels your small hands over his own where they hold your face.

“Luigi, I love you,” you say softly, “I love you so much. That’s why I’m here, not out of obligation. You could never be a burden to me, Luigi. You never have been and never will be.”

He feels his hands falter, dropping from your face as his shoulders sag. I believe you, he wants to scream out. His body won’t allow him to. There’s doubt that lingers in the back of his mind–doubt he refuses to claim as his own.

For a moment, Luigi thinks his body will finally relent. That, by some kind of miracle, he’ll collapse into you and let the heat of your body consume his own. But instead, he feels himself pull away from you. His hands fall completely, weight shifting as he pushes himself up from the couch. His legs feel as heavy as ever, but they move him away anyway, carrying him to the door.

“What are you doing?” he hears your voice rise, panicked. “Luigi–where are you going? Please, let’s talk about this.”

He hears the steps of your feet against the cold, wood floor, the quick catch in your breath as you follow after him.

Stop, Luigi pleads. Turn around. Don’t do this.

When Luigi realizes he doesn’t, a scream builds in his chest, desperate to escape. He feels his jaw tighten, shoulders tense, and his steps are automatic. Then, you do something that makes him falter–you throw your arms around him, wrapping yourself tightly against his back. Your fingers grip the fabric of his shirt to anchor yourself to him, refusing to let go.

He freezes as he feels the warmth of your body pressed to his, your trembling breath against his shoulder.

“Please,” you beg, voice raw and breaking. “Don’t do this.”

He feels it then: a tender, desperate kiss pressed between his shoulder blades. The warmth of it burns through the layers of fabric resting on his back, searing into his skin like a brand. Your lips linger there, trembling, and it feels as though you’re willing him to stay. He feels every ounce of love and hope that you’ve poured into a single touch.

This is what you want, he hears his own voice urging him to accept it. To stay. This is what you need. Don’t let her go. He feels nauseated when his hands reach down and pry yours from his torso. His movements are gentle but firm. To Luigi, it feels like the cruelest betrayal. He’s a prisoner in his own skin.

“I can’t make you happy anymore, (Name).” Your name rolls off his tongue without him even having to think about it. Luigi can feel defeat ruminating in his soul, causing him to tremble. He finally knows your name and it’s come to him in the worst way possible. It’s wrong, it’s unfair. He can do absolutely nothing to console you or wipe away the tears that continue to spill from your cheeks because his asshole body won’t let him. His voice sounds muffled, distorted and distant, yet unmistakably his own. The words spill out like they belong to someone else. He doesn’t recognize himself. “This isn’t the life you deserve.”

He steps forward, heading for the door, slipping out of your grasp completely. He misses your warmth already. Your arms fall to your sides. He feels a sense of relief that isn’t his own wash over him when you don’t move to follow him, but an overwhelming sense of grief overcomes him.

“Luigi,” he hears you call out to him.

Stop.

His legs halt with his hand on the doorknob. He doesn’t dare to look back.

“I’ve never cared about having a perfect life,” he hears you say, voice mirroring his own defeat. “Ever since I met you, I,” you pause to release a shaky breath, voice cracking with each syllable you verbalize. “All I’ve ever wanted is you.”

Luigi’s heart plummets, the weight of your words settling heavily in his chest.

Luigi has never loved anyone the way he has learned to love you. It was ridiculous of him to believe he could love someone the way he loves you–relentlessly, unconditionally, and all-consuming–without consequence.

The phrase still punctures him right to the core, like a knife being plunged into him, over and over. The tremble in your voice, your unmistakable sincerity, cuts him deeper than any pain he’s ever known. All Luigi truly wants to do is turn around.

To fall to his knees and beg for your forgiveness, to tell you you’re everything he’s never known that he’s always wanted.

But his fingers only tighten around the doorknob, legs trembling as they continue to push him forward. Slowly, he pulls the door open. The hinges creak softly, the sound piercing through your shared silence.

Once he steps into the threshold, the warmth of the room behind him–your warmth–slips away, right between his fingers. The cool air of the hallway bites at his skin, but it’s nothing compared to the chill in his chest. He feels himself hesitate, shoulders falling under the heaviness of it all.

Say something. Anything. He screams at himself, but his lips remain shut.

He closes the door behind him. When the latch clicks gently, its sound feels deafening. A symbol of the finality of his choice. He only stands for a moment, just as he did before, when the warmth of your love came over his body. He ruminates in the cold. He lets out a breath he wasn’t aware he had been holding when the stifled sound of your muffled sobs bleeds through the wood of the door behind him.

He nearly breaks, right then and there. Nearly.

He turns and wills himself to walk down the hallway, each of his steps feeling heavier than the last. The fluorescent lights above cast long, harsh shadows upon him, but he pays them no mind. He ignores his vision blurring, head spinning with grief, helplessness, and anger. Your words only ring in his ears, growing louder with every echo of his heels.

All I’ve ever wanted is you.

It becomes a chant in his head–a mantra playing on a constant, never ending loop in his mind. Everything else becomes drowned out. He feels his fist clench at his sides, nails digging crescents into his palms as if the pain might awake him. It doesn’t. He reaches the elevator, feet dragging. He presses the button, the weak ding of the elevator arriving and pulling him from his haze.

The doors slide open, he steps inside. The metallic chill of the space envelops him. The light of the elevator reflects off its stainless steel walls, making him feel small.

He reaches for the button for his floor but hesitates, hand overing over the button, mid-air.

Don’t.

He does anyway. He presses it with the sharp exhale through his nose.

Just before the doors slide shut, Luigi feels his legs finally give out, and he leans against the wall. His head falls back as he stares up at the metal ceiling. His chest heaves, breathing uneven, legs numb, vision blurring even further.

All I’ve ever wanted is you.

It begins before he processes what happens. The tears fall from his eyes quicker than he can manage to wipe them away. Luigi heaves a gut-wrenching sob as the pain in his chest blooms. His body shakes with the force of his anguish, raw and irrepressible.

As the elevator doors close with a dull thud, he’s finally able to scream.

The dream shatters.

—

When Luigi wakes, the tears are already falling, hot and heavy against his cheeks, flooding his ears. His chest wracks his being with silent sobs. His fingers brush against his damp face as if trying to wipe away the echoes of your voice and leave them behind him. But it doesn’t leave him. He has a feeling it never will.

He lays there for what feels like hours, unmoving. He feels like a corpse.

It takes him longer than he would like to admit to realize something is missing. The realization doesn’t hit him until later that evening, when he’s standing under the steady hot stream of the shower. The water pelts his skin, but does nothing to soothe the ache of his entire body. He runs a hand through his curly, wet locks. He tries to scrub away the fog in his mind, scrub you away, but it’s no use. The fog and the memory of you cling to him like a second skin.

He steps out of the shower, towel tied loosely around his waist, he stops in front of the mirror. The steam blurs his reflection, so he wipes away the condensation of the mirror when something catches his eye in its reflection. In another mirror behind him, there’s the trace of a mole on his back, faint.

A mole on his back, in the exact same place you had kissed in his dream. He freezes as the fragments of the dream rush back to him.

The name–your name. It was there, in that horrendous God-awful dream, vivid and sharp. It echoed in his mind just moments ago. Now, it’s slipped away from him, gone as quickly as it came. It’s there, on the tip of his tongue, he can feel it but he just can’t remember. The harder he tries to hold on to it, the faster it disappears and fades farther away. He closes his eyes, pressing his forehead against the glass of his mirror, and exhales shakily.

You were gone.

After that, so were the dreams.

Days without dreams blurred into weeks. The dreams that had once been a cruel comfort had abandoned him entirely. The rest of his life drags on in a haze of monotony, each day more dreary than the last. He wakes up, gets himself out of the house, comes home, and repeats the cycle.

There’s an emptiness gnawing at him from the inside out.

The flowers of the corner stand he passes when he leaves the house used to catch his eye–the bright daffodils and carnations bursting with life–but now, they’re dull. The colors of their petals muted by the overcast sky of New York. Luigi finds himself stopping to stare at times, hands buried in the pockets of his coat. He gazes at them as if they will remind him of something, anything. They don’t.

When the silence of his apartment is insufferable, Luigi goes out to eat instead of cooking at home. Yet, every coffee he orders tastes bitter, no matter how much sugar he adds, and every piece of food he shoves into his mouth leaves a bland aftertaste in his mouth.

Occasionally, his friends text or call, asking him to meet up. He finds himself declining more often than not. It’s not that he doesn’t care, really, it’s not. It’s simply because he can’t find the energy to fake being “okay.” On the rare instance that he does go, however, he finds that their laughter and lighthearted conversations–that should be comforting–feel static in his ears. So, he sits silently, nursing a drink he can’t muster the willpower to finish.

He takes midnight strolls to avoid resting, wandering the city aimlessly. He lets the cold air penetrate his skin as he searches for something he can’t name. Perhaps a purpose, maybe a sign, an indicator of your presence. Anything to fill the empty pit in his stomach that has grown every day since you’ve been gone. It all feels so futile.

When Luigi is home, the clock ticks loudly. The hum of the fridge grates on his nerves. The TV drowns out his silence, but the dialogue of the shows he plays are nothing but meaningless background noise.

The ache in his chest persists.

—

Months pass before Luigi begins to convince himself he is moving on. Slowly, reluctantly, but moving on nonetheless. The dreams never returned, and with them, the constant emptiness in his gut that made him feel hollow. The name–the one he couldn’t bring himself to remember–had grown quieter in his mind.

His days filled with monotonous routines ground him. Errands, nights out with friends, light exercise, reading helps him from thinking about you for too long. He’s forced himself to return texts more regularly, forcing himself to engage.

He tells himself it’s progress. That he’s healing, maybe even healed completely. Deep down, he knows better.

The ache hasn’t disappeared, but he’s learned to live with it. It’s only buried itself deeper, settling into a quiet part of his mind he tries not to pay any mind to. Though, it sometimes resurfaces in unexpected ways: in the warmth of sunlight creeping through his blinds or in seeing signs with bright, colorful lettering as he walks through his neighborhood. Small things. Things that should be insignificant to him but now, because of you, aren’t.

Still, Luigi tells himself it’s enough–that the progress he’s made, however small or hollow it feels, is better than being stuck. For a while, it is. He believes it.

Until he sees you.

It’s a quiet afternoon, the kind he’s found usually blur into the rest. Luigi wanders the streets without purpose, allowing his legs to move him along wherever they please. Then, through the fog of his rumination, you appear.

You sit in a coffee shop, your head bent over a book, a mug of coffee settled beside your hand on the table. The gentle glow of the afternoon light spills through the window and catches in your hair. Just like in his dreams.

For a moment, the world stops and all Luigi can do is stand there, across the street, frozen on the sidewalk, staring like a deer caught in headlights.

It was you–unmistakably, indubitably you.

His breath hitches. He wants to look away; convince himself this is some cruel trick of his imagination. He can’t. There’s no mistaking you. The gentle curve of your face, the way your lips press together in concentration as you turn a page. He could cry.

Without realizing it, his legs begin to move, carrying him across the street, weaving through the bustling crowd.

The bell above the coffee shop door chimes as he steps inside. The cheerful, bright sound cuts through the muffled conversations and clinking dishes of the shop.

It’s fate, his heart says. The universe rings a bell, just for him, to tell him this is exactly where he needs to be.

You look up at the sound, your eyes scanning the room briefly before they land on him. Everything else fades away. The noisy hum of the coffee shop fades to a distant murmur, the busy streets outside a blur of motion he can no longer see. All that exists is you.

Your eyes lock onto his, your expression shifting into something resembling recognition–or maybe confusion. But then your lips part slightly, and the smallest hint of a smile forms as your eyes soften. The smile he’s seen so many times in his dreams, now real. He can feel it: that familiar flick of a flame igniting itself in his heart, spreading across the space between you.

Luigi steps closer, the weight he had been carrying on his back for weeks giving way to something lighter. He focuses on making his way to you without his legs giving out, heart thrumming against his ribcage like a trapped animal.

As he reaches your table, you close your book gently, placing it on the table beside your coffee. Your head titles slightly, eyes never leaving his as the faint smile on your lips grows just a little wider. His chest tightens, his mind racing to find the words he’s always wanted to say to you, but now that you’re here–now that you’re real–they vanish.

Once he’s before you, he stops stupidly. You stare up at him, expectantly.

What does he say now that you’re here? Do you even know who he is? He must look like such a freak right now, but still, you manage to look as beautiful as ever–even more so in person.

“Hi,” your voice rips him away from his thoughts. The single word carries more familiarity than he thought possible.

His throat tightens as he swallows, sound barely audible over the pounding in his ears. His lips part, and for a moment, nothing comes out. He panics but masks it when he shifts his weight from one foot to the other, managing to find his voice.

“Hi,” he whispers breathlessly.

“Can I help you with something?” you ask gently.

He tenses. The truth gnaws at him. You don’t recognize him, don’t feel the connection he had spent months dreaming about. The world feels like it’s been tilted on its axis. He stares at you, breath catching in his lungs, unable to comprehend the realness of it all. Every detail of you: from the way the light frames your face to the soft curve of your lips, all down to the bridge of your nose. Every detail of your figure he had spent all those weeks dreaming about, every part of you he memorized with meticulous care, it’s all here. He can’t look away, can’t tell himself it’s an illusion.

“I,” his voice comes out softer than he expects. He clears his throat gently, to steady himself as he speaks. “My name is Luigi,” he says. “I just wanted to say…” He pauses, looking you over from head to toe. It’s you. The girl of his dreams. “How beautiful I think you are,” he breathes.

He watches your confusion melt into bashfulness. Your face quickly softens into a flustered smile.

“Oh,” you say, heat blossoming in your cheeks. “Thank you so much, Luigi. That’s very sweet of you.” A pause before you laugh–a melodic, gorgeous sound. “I’m (Name).”

“(Name),” he repeats. It tastes sweet on his tongue. It feels good, it feels right. “You’re very beautiful.”

“Thank you,” you repeat, laughing once more. Luigi knows at that moment, he’d dedicate himself to making you laugh for the rest of his life if you’d let him.

He lets out a small, shaky laugh of his own, scratching the back of his neck. “Well, I should let you get back to your book,” he says, gesturing awkwardly toward the table. He forces a smile and takes a step back. “That was really all I wanted to tell you.”

What a lie, but you don’t recognize him. What more can he do?

“It was nice meeting you, (Name),” he says gently, and he sees your mouth open to speak, but it feels like too much.

Before you say anything, he turns to leave, moving for the door. The bell above it chimes as he prepares to step out. Just as he reaches the threshold, your voice stops him.

“Luigi?”

This feels like deja vu. He makes sure to turn this time, though, meeting your gaze. He watches you hesitate slightly, before gesturing to the chair across from you.

“Would you like to join me?”

Luigi stares at you, his mind struggling to process what you’ve just said. Then, something shifts within him, just as it did all those months ago as he laid in bed, before the first dream had ever occurred. It eases the ache that has lingered for so long.

He nods, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he takes a step back toward you. He sits in the seat across from you and you smile once more. He is whole.

For the first time in his life, Luigi feels the fullness of a love that is unwavering. He has found everything he never knew he needed, and it’s more beautiful than he ever could have imagined.

#alexa play everywhere everything by noah kahan ft gracie abrams #i played this on loop for hours writing the ending scene #luigi mangione #luigi mangione x reader #luigi mangione fanfic #luigi mangione fanfiction #angst #soulmate au #past lovers #real person fiction #luigi mangione imagine #luigi mangione angst #luigi mangione x y/n #luigi mangione x yn #mrsmangiwrks #fanfiction #free luigi

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wh0reforcoriolanussnow · 1 year ago

Note

oooh can u do one of those with Tom and reader where she does one of those celebrity skincare routine videos. How u go abt the story is completely up to u, have a nice day!

Vogue beauty secrets || Tom Blyth x singer!reader

A/n: I haven't post a tom blyth x singer!reader in so long, apolgies! but hope you enjoy this one :)

Wc: 577

Warnings: nonee

Divider by @pommecita

You stand in front of the bathroom mirror, ready to film your Vogue beauty secrets video. The soft lights illuminate the room, casting a flattering glow on your face. "Hi Vogue! I'm Y/n Abrams and I'm going to walk you through my skincare and my current glam-ish makeup routine!" You smile.

"So for my morning skincare routine, I keep it very simple and only use four products," you showcase the products before tucking your hair behind your ears.

Picking up a bottle of a renowned cleanser, you speak with a gentle, almost ASMR-like quality, "I first go in with this la roche possay face wash," You squeeze the contents in your hands.

"I used to have really bad teenage acne and my mum actually put me on this when I was about 14 and I've been using it ever since!" You say as you lather it up in your hands.

You lightly pat your wet face and with a confident smile, you began detailing more of your skincare routine, highlighting each product with precision. You get closer to the camera as you delicately applied a moisturiser, your voice resonating with enthusiasm.

The ambiance shifted when you transitioned to your makeup routine, showcasing the products that you use. "Most days I just keep it very very simple, using very light products on my skin," You comment as you pull out foundation.

"But for my sort of glam days I use this foundation from charlotte tilbury, it's not too heavy for me but it has great coverage." As you meticulously applied the product on your face, the door to the bathroom creaked open as you look towards the reflection of the mirror.

Tom casually strolls in, a lazy grin on his face, his eyes locking onto you. He wraps his arms around you, his warmth and affection catching you off-guard as you smile. He rests his chin on your shoulder, "Hi gorgeous," he whispers against your skin.

His eyes then move to the camera that he hadn't seen, "Oh- are you filming that video right now?" Tom seemed genuinely concerned, but instead of pulling away, he tightens his embrace, placing light kisses on your exposed skin. The unexpected intrusion caught everyone watching at home off-guard, but the genuine affection between you and Tom added an endearing touch to the video.

"Yeah, but it's okay, you can stay," You assure your boyfriend as you both lock eyes with each other through the reflection. "What's the video again?" Tom lifts his head up from your shoulder as he straightens up behind you.

"My beauty secrets with Vogue," you explain, motioning to the products on the counter. "I'm doing my makeup routine right now," almost forgetting you still had to get through the rest of your routine, you go back to doing your makeup.

Tom, seemingly unfazed by the cameras, continued to watch you with adoration with his hands resting on your hips. “You don’t need makeup, you’re already gorgeous,” he remarked. “Hm?” You look at him, “I said, you already look gorgeous, you don’t need makeup,” he repeats, his words sincere and heartfelt.

You give your boyfriend a grateful smile for his sweet words. Caught in the moment, Tom continues to watch you, occasionally leaning in to drop a playful comment or offer a sweet compliment. The chemistry between you two is palpable, and it added an unexpected charm to the video.

You wrapped up the video with Tom still beside you as he gives a small wave. You thought for sure that the vogue editing team would cut off most, if not, all the parts that Tom was in.

But little did you know, the vogue team decided to keep the segments with your boyfriend, finding his genuine affection and compliments wholesome.

When the video gets uploaded to YouTube, the internet goes wild. Both your fans couldn't get enough of Tom's unscripted, heartfelt moments. Clips of him wrapping around you, calling your gorgeous, and showering you with affection became viral sensations.

Social media explodes with comments praising how sweet Tom is and the chemistry between the two of you. Memes circulate, capturing the hilarious and heartwarming snapshots from the video.

The unexpected blend of beauty tips and genuine love only fueled the video's popularity.

2K notes · View notes

fratboyharrys-gf · 3 months ago

Text

“𝐈 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮” | 𝐇.𝐒.

summary: harry and yn go on a date, and he tells her he loves her.

warnings: none

word count: 748 || masterlist

authors note: this took me so long i got through like two rotten mango videos while i was writing it 😭

feedback, reblogs, & comments are always appreciated, thank you! <3 join my taglist here!

The summer sun was pouring down on YN and Harry as they hurriedly set up a picnic under a large willow tree.

They had found the perfect spot by a pond, a beautiful, grassy field overlooking the water. The sound of rustling leaves and a faint breeze created a peaceful and serene atmosphere.

After YN and Harry finished setting up the picnic, they settled down onto the blanket and began to unpack the food. They had brought a variety of treats, from fresh sandwiches to homemade cookies, and a bottle of wine. The sun was still high in the sky, and the gentle breeze kept the temperature just right, making it the perfect day for a picnic.

Harry took a bite of his sandwich and as he chewed, he wrapped his arm around YN, who looked up at him, her eyes bright with curiosity as she asked, “Is it good?”

Harry swallowed the bite and nodded, laughing slightly as he replied, “Yes. It’s really good.”

The two of them continued to enjoy their picnic, eating and drinking as they talked about anything and everything. They didn’t realize how long they were sitting there until they noticed that the sun began to set, casting a warm gold light over the landscape. It was a perfect day, and YN and Harry were glad they had decided to spend it together.

“YN?” Harry spoke up after a few moments of silence.

”Hm?” She hummed, looking up at him.

He took a deep breath and looked back in front of them as he debated if what he was about to say was a good idea or not. If it was too soon, or if she’d say it back.

He turned his head back to face her, brushed a strand of hair away from her face, and tucked it behind her ear, before dropping his hand back down next to him.

”…I love you.”

He and YN have been together for just about two months, and they haven’t said those words to each other—until now. He’s been thinking about saying it for a long time, and he decided that he was going to do it on this date while he was on his way to pick her up.

Harry studied her expression, seeing shock written all over her face.

”Oh-“ YN began, but he interrupted her.

”You… you don’t have to say it back. I just wanted you to know.”

She nodded slowly, still staring back at him with widened eyes.

YN was not expecting him to say that to her at all. Or at least not anytime soon. She was not prepared.

She was worried for their relationship to get to this point—where they tell each other that they love them. The last man she loved, cheated on her and completely broke her trust, and she was scared to love ever again.

YN knew she loved Harry, and she had a good feeling that he’d never do anything like that to her, but she was still hesitant about being vulnerable like that ever again.

She looked away from him, blinking a few times, and then he spoke up, “It’s getting late, I should get you back home.” He said monotonously, not giving her the chance to respond before he began packing everything up.

As Harry continued gathering the containers and glasses that their food and wine used to be in, YN watched him intently, trying to tell if he was mad at her or not.

She slowly stood up, grabbed the blanket, and then folded it, still looking at Harry from time to time. She really didn’t want him to be mad at her.

Harry seemed to notice that she was staring at him, but he didn’t mention it. Instead, he said, “Let’s go.”

As the two of them began walking away, she decided that she needed to know if she just ruined what they had.

”Are you mad at me?” She asked softly, before adding an even quieter, “I’m sorry.”

He looked down at her and shook his head. “I’m not mad at you. I told you that you don’t have to say it back, it’s okay.” He placed a kiss to the top of her head before they began walking again.

After a few minutes of silence, YN decided that she couldn’t wait any longer.

”Harry?”

The two of them stopped walking once again, and Harry asked, “Yeah?”

YN took a deep breath and smiled nervously.

”I love you too.”

taglist: @nikkimartinez23 @elliedafish @meadowwitchpinklight @howling-wolf97 @carolinaastyles @carolinaskiiwi @tianajames17 @illicitverstappen @cassofheartsss @fangirl509east @fruity-harry @secretisme4

#harry styles #one direction #taylor swift #writers on tumblr #gracie abrams #sabrina carpenter #zayn #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles blurb

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cherryeclipses · 2 months ago

Text

i love you, i'm sorry ☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓

dean winchester x reader

part 2 here

angst, childhood lovers to enemies (potentially to lovers again), i love writing angsty dean I'm sorry. warning - I hardly edit any of my writing sorry

word count: 2.1K

☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓

cause that's just the way life goes ...

☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓

You were 16 when you met Dean Winchester, he and his brother Sam were new to your school. The moment you met you instantly had a crush on the boy, he was charming, funny, dangerous, and downright sexy. The only problem was every other girl in your grade felt the same thing, hell even some of the guys did. Dean had the kind of energy when he walked into a room all eyes were on him. It wasn't until a few months later when you would finally speak to him, it turns out his dad and yours were friends; hunting friends. Okay maybe friends is too much, more like acquaintances, they would help each other if they were hunting the same thing. John and your father had decided now that John was to be in your hometown for at least the next few months that the three of you kids could keep each other company.

The first time the three of you met officially it was a horrible stormy night. Something straight out of a horror movie, the rain was pelting against the windows, making them rattle, and thunder clapped so loud in the distance it sounded as though the apocalypse was beginning. John came over to your house with Sam and Dean to sit down with your father and go over the lore of whatever monster they were hunting now. "Darlin' you remember John Winchester?" Your dad said lazily, gesturing to the elder Winchester. You just nodded politely. "Well these are his sons, Dean and little Sam. " He continued. "I know, I've met them already." Both fathers looked at you confused for a moment. "I mean, they started at school last month. I think I have a couple classes with Dean." You shrugged, trying to play it off. You caught Dean's expression from the corner of your eye, he was smirking at you, one eyebrow raised in interest.

As the two men retreated to spend the night in the study you were left standing in the kitchen with Sam and Dean, awkwardly. "I'll show you both to the living room, we can order a pizza or something?" You turned on your heels and the boys followed you into the next room. You sat on one end of the couch, Sam on the other and Dean sat in the armchair across from you. Sam started flicking absentmindedly through the tv channels, trying to drown out the uncomfortable silence. "It must be nice to have a real home and don't have to move schools all the time." Sam spoke up. "Uh yeah, I guess it's alright. I mean it'd be even better if dad wasn't a hunter at all." You gave the young boy a sympathetic smile. You looked up to see Dean still staring at you, you couldn't tell if he was eyeing you off or judging you; but either way it looked like he was about to eat you. You felt your face heat up, your crush sitting meters across from you, in your house. It was unreal.

The rest of the night dragged on, you watched a few movies and ordered pizza, none of you talking very much. Eventually Sam fell asleep so you got up off the couch to cover him with a blanket. As you passed Dean to pick up the blanket he finally spoke up. "So what classes do we have together?" He asked innocently. "What?" You asked startled. "When your dad was introducing us you said we have a few classes together. A beautiful girl like you, I'd remember. So I'm curious." You were stunned, there's no way he just said that. "Um I think English and history maybe." You answered, sitting back down besides the sleeping boy. "No wonder I haven't seen you." He laughed. "There's no way anyone could make me sit in the most boring classes of the day." You rolled your eyes, yeah sure they were tedious but you actually wanted to graduate. "So what do you do with all your spare time then? Surely not studying?" Now it was Dean's turn to blush, you had heard a few notorious stories about Dean and a certain janitor's closet. He just shrugged and ran a hand through his hair.

☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓

Ever since that night Dean started showing up to his English and history classes, and not only showing up but coming in early to make sure he had the seat beside you. During breaks he would find you out by the football field and join you for lunch. You had so much in common, not just your unstable life as a hunter's kid but same taste in music and cars. It felt like you finally met your soulmate.

Eight months later it was time for the Winchester's to move on. The longest they had stayed anywhere (thanks to Dean) but John wouldn't be delayed any longer, he had a lead two states away and was determined to follow it. The night before he left, Dean snuck in through your window to say goodbye. Gifting you a dainty necklace adorned with your birthstone - you didn't even realise Dean knew what a birthstone was! "What's this for Dean? So my heart can break everytime I put it on?" You ask, looking up at the boy with tears in your eyes. He takes your left hand, running his thumb over your knuckles comfortingly. "No, this isn't goodbye forever, just for now. Just until dad ganks this son of a bitch and then I can come and see you again. I promise. Just wanted to get something for my favourite girl." He leant down to place a kiss on the top of your head. Wrapping your arms around him you pulled him in for the tightest hug you could muster. "I don't believe you, but I still love you." You chuckle against his chest. You feel his heart skip a beat, pausing before he replies "I love you too."

☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓

It didn't take long after graduating high school for you to fall into the hunter's life. After spending your senior year fighting with your dad about the future, you did exactly what he expected and gave in. He had taught you how to hunt from the age you could hold a shotgun.

It was the reason your mum left.

Although you were fulfilling your destiny of becoming a hunter, you refused to hunt with him. After a particularly explosive fight you called your boyfriend. Dean knew about your daily arguments but he also could feel that this one was different. This fight was bad enough, pushed you far enough to call him crying and begging to meet him wherever he was. Dean was currently hunting a vampire nest with John only a six hour drive from you. The minute your phone lit up with an address you jumped in your car and sped off. Not looking back for a second.

"She's on her way." Dean announced to John, shoving his phone back into his pocket. John sighed in response "she'll get her anger out on this hunt then she'll drive right back home. Don't expect her to stay with us. Even if she wants to, the answer's no." He said solemnly. "I don't think so, this is different. She hates this life, so it'd have to be really bad." John nodded not looking up from his paper. He tolerated yours and Dean's relationship. He had nothing against you personally, he just didn't believe you could be in a relationship and live their life. He would put up with you for as long as it took you to realise that and run off to find someone stable.

☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓

That was almost four years ago. Since then you had joined the Winchester family on most of their hunts, surprising John with not only how well you could research and retain lore information but also how quick you were in a fight.

You had begun to grow close to Sam, he was like your best friend and the little brother you never had. When you were left alone to research he would often confide in you his feelings and dreams for the future.

One evening Dean returned to the motel alone, John abandoned him for a dive bar down the road, to you and Sam asleep on the couch. Your head resting atop his, your hoodie covering the younger boy from the chill in the air. Dean adored how you loved Sammy, how you both got along and you took care of him. He kissed your cheek and noticed how cold you were. Removing his eather jacket and gently placing it around your shoulders before settling into bed for the night. He didn't dare wake the two of you.

Over the years, you had the privilege of watching Sam grow into a young man and live out his dream of leaving the hunting life for college. The weekend before he left he made sure to visit you to say goodbye. Hugging you goodbye and making sure you had his new number but not before making you promise you wouldn't give it to Dean or John. "Cross my heart. I'll take this phone number to my grave along with every embarrassing crush you've told me about." You giggled, making an x across your heart. "Okay, okay, thank you. I just want to start over and I can't if they're trying to track me down." He smiled sadly. You looked up at Sam (he had now grown 10 feet tall and towered over you) "I get it but I can't promise they won't try to track you down anyways." You shrugged before giving the boy one final hug goodbye. "Good luck little Sammy." You joked as he left for good.

☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓

Ever since Sam left things had become tense among the Winchesters. Well, more tense than they already were. John was more irritable, it seemed like he would take his sadness and frustration out on you, yelling at the smallest mistakes or refusing to give you details on their next hunt. Dean was torn, it was wearing him down, trying to deal with his brother leaving and his father and girlfriend fighting. You had had enough and had thoughts about leaving for awhile, just taking a few solo hunts away from John until things cooled down - you really wished you could steal Dean away as well but that would make things so much worse.

"-absolutely not! You go out there and do what needs to be done Dean. This has been going on for far too long and you know it." You heard John shout from inside his and Dean's motel room. "You don't know what you're talking about, she's the best damn hunter we've ever worked with." Dean responded, sounding just as furious. You hesitated going inside. You were going to tell Dean about your plan to give John some space but now, now they were fighting about you. You took a step back, you couldn't just leave without saying goodbye, so you waited. Anxiously twisting the birthstone around your neck your back against the wall, you waited for the screaming match to be over.

"She's bad news, always has been. Just like her damn father Dean. You can't keep dragging her around, it ain't fair." "I love her. " Dean growled. "You wouldn't know love if it hit you in the face." And with that the motel door flung open to reveal a furious Dean.

Tears stung your eyes, threatening to overflow. "How much of that did you hear?" Dean asked. "Enough." Dean took a deep breath and led you away from the motel door. "Look, I'm sorry. Honestly I never wanted you to hear that fight. But there's something I gotta say." Your breath caught in your throat, it felt like you were going to puke. You couldn't say anything back, so you just waited for him to go on, "I-Jesus-I can't do this anymore." He chokes out. "We need to break up." Tears pour down your cheeks silently. "We need to? Or John wants us to?" You seethe. "We need to. It's not fair, you never wanted this life. I know what you wanted, you truly want what Sam left for. An apple pie life. You could still go to College, meet someone normal. I can't, no I won't, keep bringing you down like this." His voice raises. "Seriously? After everything. You're giving in?" Nothing. Dean stands there, looking like a lost puppy. "Fine, I'll leave, I know when I'm not wanted. But before I go, I hope you're aware you sound just like John now. Congratulations." You whip around and walk as fast as your legs will take you to your car. Speeding off down the highway, making sure to stick your middle finger out the window for Dean to see.

☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓

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goldsainz · 2 years ago

Text

SWEET NOTHING — one shot

pairing: mick schumacher x reader

2K CELEBRATION. MASTERLIST.

taglist: @lorarri @lpab @whatthefuckerr @noncannonships @lunnnix @elliegrey2803 @schumacheer @saintslewis

request: “can i ask for 📀 — mick schumacher + ‘sweet nothing’ by taylor swift pretty pls” by @folkloresthings

NOTE: this was so cute to make! the iconic gracie/f1 fic is here… it’s like everyone has done a fic with her, but i haven’t, so here it is😭 (this is short and sweet, please enjoy!!)

liked by estebanocon, taylorswift and 607,814 others

yourusername the grind never stops 💪

view all 9,117 comments

ynfan1 mother and father

⤷ yourusername child?

⤷ ynfan1 ASJKSFDHJASH

mickfan1 they look so good

ynfan2 pls tell me new music is coming

mickschumacher I was literally playing Wordle…

⤷ yourusername but you’re so hardworking baby!!!!!!

ynfan3 i love them more than my life

ynfan4 no other couple i adore more than them

sebastianvettel Enjoy the summer break, guys! 😊❤️

⤷ yourusername we wil seb!! say hi to han for us 🫶

liked by jackdoohan, haimtheband and 834,172 others

yourusername “sweet nothing” is out in all streaming platforms! this song means a lot to me, each lyric is something i feel or felt at some point.

view all 12,503 comments

mickschumacher I want all your sweet nothings forever

⤷ yourusername and i want all of yours 🫶

ynfan21 CANT BELIEVE WE GOT NEW MUSIC

mickfan21 MORE MICK LOVE SONGS😭😭

ynfan22 “to you, i can admit that i’m just too soft for all of it” I LOVE THEM YOUR HONOUR

taylorswift I love love love this!!!!!!!!!!!!!

⤷ yourusername i love youuuuuuuuuuuuu

⤷ ynfan23 crying at the exclamation marks and u’s being 13

ynfan24 i need y’all to LISTEN

mickfan22 mick you better treat her well

mickfan23 I WANT A “SWEET NOTHING” TYPE OF RELATIONSIP

mickschumacher has posted an insta story!

liked by lewishamilton, landonorris and 586,239 others

mickschumacher She said yes.

view all 8,794 comments

yourusername there isn’t a single universe where i’d say no

⤷ mickschumacher 🤍🤍🤍

mickfan31 HELLO??? THIS IS WHAT I WAKE UP TO???

ynfan31 glad she’s engaged to someone who truly loves her

mickfan32 their wedding vows will be so good i just know it

mercedesamgf1 The future Mr & Mrs Schumacher

liked by mickschumacher and 75,061 others

mickfan33 MY LITERAL PARENTS

mickfan34 the definition of soulmates fr

ynfan32 I😭LOVE😭THEM😭

2K notes · View notes

writtenbyan-aries · 3 months ago

Note

I was unsure if you had a specific way you receive/handle your requests so I'm sorry in advance. But, I've been in sort of an angsty mood recently and was wondering if you could do like an all angst, no comfort type thing for Sam or Colby, or both, it truly doesn't matter to me. I've been reading through fics and whatnot, none are angsting the way I want them too😭. Please don't feel like you have too, I just thought it wouldn't hurt to ask, and your such a good writer, I love your work!!💞

∶ Summary: reader deals with the breakup between her and Sam

∶ Warnings: angsty, fighting, arguing, swearing, sad!reader, happy ending.. kinda

∶ Word Count: 3.6k | unedited

────────────────────────

“Do you even remember being happy together?” You tilt your head, tears streaming down your face, “Because I do.”

Sam stands across from you, “I don’t even know why I came the fuck home.” He runs his hand over his face, “Fuck, y/n, what do you want me to say? Do you want me to stand here and lie to you, tell you that the last year has been a walk in the park or something?”

“No.” You shake your head, “I just can’t remember the last time we were together and it wasn’t spent fucking screaming at each.”

“Can’t tell you.” He shrugs, “I don’t know what you want me to say, y/n. I work, I have to travel for work. You have the complete ability to come with me, but yet you choose to stay here.”

“Because I have a job, Sam. A job that makes it so you don’t have to constantly have to pay for me. I know what you say to your friends, bitching that I can buy my own coffee when you and I both fucking know that I can.”

“I have never bitched about buying you anything to anyone, so who ever told you that is a fucking liar.” He laughs, letting out a groan, “Fuck, but it doesn’t matter, you’re not going to believe me anyway.”

“There you go again, blaming everyone but your fucking self.” You scoff, shaking your head, “Whatever. I can’t keep doing this. It’s fight after fight anymore. We’re supposed to be happy, and we can’t even spend five minutes together without one of us having some dumb shit to say that sparks an argument apparently.”

“I travel, y/n.” He stares at you, “You would how know hard that is if you came with me for once.”

“You said that already, Sam.” You laugh, sniffling as you wipe your face, “You know what, no. I’m not doing this.” You look around, grabbing anything that’s his and throwing it at him, “Just go.”

“What the fuck.. are you doing?” He catches his sweatshirt and throws it on the couch, “Y/n, what-“

“Maybe we’re just better apart, Sam.”

You stand there staring at him as he stares at you.

“Do you think we’re better for it?” He asks lowly and you shrug, “I know I can’t keep doing this. Being good to each other and then listening to my friends tell me just give it till summer, knowing one of us will..” You motion at the strewn objects on the floor, “fuck it up again.”

He nods, “Okay. Fine. We’re done.” He beds down and you walk into the kitchen, leaning against the counter as you try to collect yourself.

He walks in and you press your hands into the counter, “Can you just fucking leave already?” You storm out and he follows, “Is there someone else?”

You stop in your tracks, “No, Sam. There isn’t anyone fucking else. If there was, why would I fucking put up with almost two years of fighting with you, trying to make our relationship work if I was just fucking you over?”

He nods, “Jesus Christ, it was just a question.”

You laugh in disbelief, “A wrong one to fucking ask, and you know it.”

“Right like I know all the answers to everything.” He walks into the kitchen, the sound of glass breaking makes you jump slightly and you walk over, “So now you’re breaking my dishes because you’re disappointed? Fucking great, Sam. That’s just fucking great.”

You bend down, picking of the large pieces of the broken plate and leaning over to put them in the trash.

“I didn’t do it on purpose.” He bends down, “But yeah, since you brought it up, I’m just disappointed in how much you couldn’t be there for me. You have time saved up to take off of work.”

“I’ll just take the blame, you can go tell your friends and the people that care about you that I broke up with you because I couldn’t-“ you stop, taking a deep breath, “Just go, Sam. Just get the fuck out of my house.”

“Why can’t we just work through this, we did times before.” He sits on the floor and you rest back on your calves, reaching over to dump the smaller pieces into the trash, “Because each time we fought before, you called, said you missed me, and I bit back onto it.”

You shake your head, “But now, I’m just starting to think that we’re just believing our own lies, forcing two pieces of a puzzle that won’t fit together.”

You stand up and walk back out to the living room, fighting back tears as your eyes scan his stuff on the floor in a pile.

You lay your hands over your face, turning away from him as you hear him walk out. You wipe your face, holding it together as you turn back around, “Lock the door when you go.”

You walk into your room and close the door. You rest your forehead against the wood, sniffling as the tears start flowing.

You hear shuffling and before you know it, the door closes behind him.

You open the door, walking back out. Your eyes scanning over the silent area. Your hand presses to your mouth as you sob, bending down to the ground.

You were cursing yourself, begging yourself to chase after him, but if you go, it’ll just make things worse.

You lift your head, your eyes moving to the couch.

“You didn’t start it without me did you?” Sam runs in, stepping over the back of the couch, “I love the beginning of this movie. It’s so funny.” You shake your head, “No, I waited for you. I know the beginning is your favorite part.”

He looks over at you, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead, “Thank you for knowing me.” He smile and you roll your eyes with a laugh, “You’re welcome.” You cuddle into his side, pressing okay on the remote.

He pulls you closer, letting out a sigh, “If we could make money just by doing this, I think we would be set. It would be the best job in the world.” You look up at him, “Why, because you’d get to sit on the couch and watch movies all day?”

He shakes his head, “No because I’d get to spend all the time in the world with you.”

You walk over to the kitchen, peering in as you rest against the entry way.

“Oh my gosh, I love this song.” You reach over, turning the speaker up louder. You spin around, sliding over the tiles in your socks to Sam, “I like shiny things, but I’d marry you with paper rings.”

Sam sings along, “Uh huh, that’s right.” He takes your hand, spinning you around, “Darling, you’re the one I want.” He dips you down, pressing a kiss to your lips as he stands you up, “Would you really accept a paper ring from me?”

You give him a shrug, “Depends on the kind of paper.” You smirk and he laughs, “I mean, yeah. It’s gotta be stuff that won’t rip or tear easy.” He snaps and points, “I know, I’ll laminate it.” You break out in laughter, “Not a bad idea.”

You can feel your body shaking as you reach up to lay your hand over your eyes, letting out a shaky breath as you drag it down over your face, “Fuck.” You shake your head, “What the fuck is wrong with us?”

You walk over to the bathroom, staring at your red and puffy face in the mirror. You turn the water on, staring it as you replay yet another memory that Sam must have forgotten about.

Sam walks into the bathroom, stopping when he sees you relaxing in the tub, “So I’m just assuming that my invitation got lost in the mail or something?”

You laugh, “I don’t think we’ll both fit in here.”

He pulls his shirt up over his head, stripping down before walking over, “Um, we can make it work? Now scoot.” You laugh as you sit up, turning to watch him step in and he sits behind you, “Now lean back here.”

You lean back, your back pressing against his chest as his arms slide over your shoulder, and you let out a sigh, “Oh I could get used to this.” He runs his hand over your wet hair, pressing a kiss to your head, “So don’t let my invitation get lost next time.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, small sobs slipping from your lips as you shake your head. You turn the water off, giving up the thought of trying to help the redness around your eyes go down.

You walk over to the bedroom, your eyes instantly moving to a dresser drawer that’s still half open from when he came over earlier today.

You walk over, pulling out one of his tee shirts and you clench it in your fists, pulling it to your chest as you sit on the bed.

The same bed where you have given yourself to him over and over again. The same bed that holds countless hours of deep and pointless conversation.

“What do you think you’d be doing if you weren’t a ghost hunter, Sam?” You whispers, breaking the peaceful silence. He hums lowly as his fingers softly rake up and down your arm, “Mm, not sure. I know I’d still want you in my life either way, though.”

“Really?” You smile and he presses a kiss to your head, “I can’t picture my life with anyone but you.” You grab his hand and pull it to your lips, pressing a kiss to his knuckles, “I’m glad we feel the same way, babe.”

“Plus, I mean..” he laughs, “Not to brag, but I’ve liked you for as long as I can remember. I had a big crush on you in high school.”

You cover your face with his shirt, using it to muffle your loud sobs. You pictured your future with Sam. Having a family with him. Buying a big house.

You sat up, pulling your phone from your pocket. You were hoping to see a text or something from him, but there was nothing. Just his face on your Lock Screen and that was just salt to the wound.

You locked your phone, tossing it behind you onto the bed.

Your eyes scanned over your room, gazing out the open doorway. You feel like you couldn’t breathe. Your chest was tight, and you were shaking like a leaf.

No matter where you looked, you were reminded of Sam. Every corner of this house was haunted and you wanted nothing more than to have him come back and tell him how much you loved him, how much you missed him, and just how sorry you were, how sorry you are.

You felt like it was all your fault. Doing long distance when you had the choice not to. Choosing making your own money over spending time with him in whatever place he was in that day.

Nothing happened the way you wanted, and for that, you were kicking your own ass, and you were kicking it hard.

You let out a gasp as your phone started to vibrate. You flipped it over, seeing it was an incoming call from one of your friends.

You hesitate, but decide to answer, “h-hello?”

“Hey I- wait, what’s wrong?”

“W-we’re over.” The words coming out of your mouth brought everything back, and you break down, “We.. got.. into it again..” you press your hand to your mouth, “I-I told him.. to just.. get out.”

You press your hand to your chest, “Fuck, it-it feels like.. I can’t breathe, Vee. I-I-“

“Okay, okay. I’m right here. I’ll come get you. I’ll stay on the phone until I’m there. Just get around, you can stay at my place tonight.”

“O-oh-Kay.” You lay his shirt down on the bed and walk over to grab a few items of clothing. You pack them into your backpack, sniffling and gasping uncontrollably as you stuff them inside.

“I’m coming onto your street now, okay. You still with me?”

“Y-yeah.” You grab your phone and walk out to your door. You grab your keys, stuffing them into your sweatshirt pocket as you slip on your shoes.

“Are- are you.. here?”

“Almost. I’m almost there.”

“Ok-ay.” You open your door and step out, taking a deep breath. The cool air calmed you down, but only for a second. You seen Vee’s car pull into your driveway and you walk down, running to her as she gets out and opens her arms.

“I’m so sorry.” She holds you tight, “You can talk about it if you want, okay?”

“I-I miss him..” you sniffle hard, “When- when we were.. g-good, we-we were.. good, y-you kn-know?”

She walks you around, “Come on. We’ll go for a drive.” She opens your door and helps you in before running around and getting in herself, “I was hoping you and Sam would work out. I really liked him for you.”

“It’s..” you take a deep breath, closing your eyes as you try to calm yourself down so you can speak, “The f-fighting. It was so-so, constant now.”

“Why were you guys fighting?” She glances over at you and you shrug, “I had standards for myself, o-or morals, fuck, I-i don’t know.” You lay your hand over your face, “I was focused on working, like that wou-would be what I would do while he’s gone, but he wanted-wanted me to go with him, and I fu-fucked up up by not going.”

“That’s not your fault. You like making money, there’s nothing wrong with that.” She shakes her head, “I mean, maybe you guys needed this. Maybe some time apart can get you guys to really think.”

You scoff, “I- doubtful. I just think t-that.. doing the long distance when we didn’t have to came between us and it’s my fault for that.”

“You did what you thought was right, and yeah, maybe working all the time wasn’t sufficient, but that’s what you are used to. I can’t remember a time you took off of work for anything other than being violently sick.”

“R-right.. I mean I know- I know you’re supposed t-to put your-your partner first, and for that, I’m paying the price for not doing it.” You groan as your hands cover your face, “Fuck, why am I like this?”

“Don’t beat yourself up. Sam could have pushed for you to come more, he could have called in for you, talked to your boss? He knows him right?”

You nod, “I just feel bad blaming him.”

“That’s because you love him, y/n, but even though we love someone, that doesn’t give them a pass at being not held accountable.” Vee looks over at you and you nod, “You’re the only one who supported me. Everyone else thought I was wasting my time with being with him.”

“As I said, I liked Sam for you, and a big part of me is hoping that you two find your way back together.” He reaches over, letting out a sigh as he squeezes your shoulder, “just don’t push it. If it’s mean to be, it’ll happen.”

You nod, wiping away a stray tear, “You’re right.”

She gives you a small smile, “I just got a big tub of ice cream, and right now, it has your name written all over it.”

────────────────────────

“I miss fighting in his old apartment.” You laugh slightly, “And I don’t mean big fighting, we’d argue over who was making dinner, what we were watching on tv, who’s hogging the blanket.”

“Um, didn’t you say I could have picked the movie for tonight?” He points to the tv and you furrow your brows, “Oh, did I say that?” You glance at the tv, “I think it’s a spooky movie kind of night.”

“Do you ever think that maybe I wanted it to be a chick flick kind of night?” He scoffs playfully and crosses his arms, “No, I don’t think you did.”

You sigh, “Fine, if you want to watch Mean Girls, we can.” He laughs, plopping down next to you on the couch, “No, I want you cowering in my lap when you’re scared.”

You snort, shaking your head as you hand her back the thing of ice cream, “Everything I know brings me back to us, to him.” You look up at her, “Do you really think he’s done?”

She shrugs, eating a spoonful of ice cream, “I wouldn’t say he’s done, I just think he knows that you both just need some time away right now. Simmer down before you guys end up going at it all over again.”

You nod, “Right, yeah.” You let out a sigh, reaching back for the ice cream, “I just.. I don’t want to leave him, we’ve been here before, but no one ever actually left, you know? Like we always found our way around it. This time, it just-“ you purse your lips, fighting back tears, “Feels different..”

“Everything is fresh, y/n.” Vee sighs, “Going through a breakup, especially with someone who you’ve been through so much with, is not easy by any means.”

“Yeah.” You bring your hands up to your face, sniffling into them, “Sorry, I-“

“Don’t be sorry.” She cuts you off, moving over to sit right next to you, “You helped me last year, so now it’s my turn to return the favor. I’m always here, you know that.”

The door bell rings and she perks up, “Pizza’s here, finally.” She gets up and walks over to the door. Your heart was racing, a part of it hoped it was Sam.

“Y/n.” Vee calls out and you jump up, “Yeah?”

“I’m sorry, but do you have change for a twenty on you?”

You nod, “Yeah, yeah. Here.” You bend down to your backpack and pull out your wallet. You walk over two tens and exchange it for the pizza.

“Thank you, have a good night.” The driver smiles and walks away. Vee closes the door and walks back over to the couch with you.

The rest of the night, you ate pizza, ice cream, and talked until what felt like you were out of tears.

The next morning, you woke up and went to the bathroom. You were appalled at how puffy and red your face was.

You splashed some cold water on, patting it under your eyes and dried off.

You walked out and Vee gives you a smile, “How are you feeling?” You give her a shrug, “The same, just without tears.” You laugh slightly and take the mug she hands you, “Thank you, for everything.”

She gives you a smile, “Anytime.”

After a little while, you got the urge to check your phone, but you were doing alright for right now, and you didn’t want to bring it all back.

So you left it go.

“Theres a new movie in theaters, a showing at six if you want to go?” Vee looks at you and you nod, “Yeah, sure. I’m down to see a new movie.”

She smiles, “I’ll get two tickets now.”

You nod, “I want to stop at my house first, I don’t want to go out looking like this.” She laughs, “Yeah no problem. I have a few things to do, I can drop you off on my way into town?”

“That’s fine.” You get up to gather your things and on the way home, everything hits you all at once, but you hold it together until you’re at your front door.

As soon as you open the door, you start to sob, seeing everything that you and Sam once shared slaps you in the face.

You pull out your phone, ignoring all of the built up notifications on your screen as you call into your job.

“Thank you for called Mistian’s Inc, Juliet speaking, how can I direct your call?”

“Hey, Juliet, it’s y/n. Can you patch me through to Dean?”

“Sure can. Give me one second.”

“Thanks.”

The phone rings a few times before Dean picks up, “Y/n, what can I do for you?”

You sniffle, “Hey, I had something come up. Can I use my time and take a few week off of work?”

“Are you okay? You sound upset.” He asks, “But yes, I’ll put that down right now for you.” You let out a laugh, “Um, Sam.. and I broke up again, and I just need a little bit of me time.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that, y/n. I’ll put you down to return next month, say the fifteenth?”

“That’s good, thank you.”

“Of course.”

You hang up and let out a sigh. You check your texts, nothing from Sam, but one from your sister that says she has stuff to drop off for you.

You text her back, Just leave it on my porch. When are you coming? She instantly replies, I can drop it off in a few. You answer and walk over to the kitchen to get a drink.

As you stand staring at the floor, there’s a knock on your door and you sigh, “I told her just to leave it.” You mumble, angry that she can’t listen to a simple request.

You open the door, freezing when you see Sam standing there, eyes just as puffy and red as yours, “I miss you, I’m sorry.”

────────────────────────

Thank you so much for reading! I love you all so much! Catch you in the next one! 🖤

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

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airaibunny · 1 month ago

Text

MASTERLIST── .✦

kpop

⊹ "birthday wish" (twice jihyo & nayeon, smut)

⊹ "drunken mistake" (twice momo, angst)

⊹ "beginner's luck" (twice momo & jihyo, smut)

⊹ "switch" (twice momo, smut)

⊹ "it's you" (twice momo, smut/angst)

⊹ "she's better" (twice sana, smut)

⊹ "finally" (twice sana, smut/fluff, "she's better" pt. 2)

⊹ "in the closet" (twice sana, smut)

⊹ "midnight snack" (twice sana & tzuyu, smut)

⊹ "attention" (twice jihyo, smut)

⊹ "do not touch" (twice mina, smut)

⊹ "bubbles" (le sserafim chaewon, fluff)

⊹ "teach me" (le sserafim yunjin, smut)

⊹ "permission" (le sserafim yunjin & kazuha, smut)

⊹ "all because of a concert sign" (le sserafim kazuha, smut)

⊹ "the idea of her" (gidle miyeon, fluff)

⊹ "please, unnie?" (nmixx haewon & sullyoon, smut)

⊹ "the silent game" (ive yujin, smut)

⊹ "more than studying" (ive yujin, smut)

gracie abrams

⊹ "everything we never said" (fluff, smut)

110 notes · View notes

theartofcollapse · 4 months ago

Text

Masterlist

my requests are open, feel free to send me some :)

soft/cute imagines = ♡

angst imagines = △

smut imagines = ☆

( if smut (☆), please do NOT read unless you're 18+, thank you! <3 )

People:

Taylor Swift

Chicken Nuggets: Taylor, seeking a break from the pressures of fame, enjoys a night out at a dive bar with her best friend Selena. After a few too many drinks, Taylor's antics (including an amusing request for a "chicken nugget drink") amuse the bartender and those nearby. Y/N, a stranger sitting beside Taylor, overhears the conversation and decides to surprise her by bringing chicken nuggets from a nearby McDonald's. ♡

Jenna Ortega

Wednesday: Y/N is babysitting her cousin's 8-year-old twins, who are obsessed with the TV show Wednesday. Although she loves the kids, she becomes frustrated. When Y/N reaches her breaking point, her girlfriend, Jenna comes to the rescue. Jenna adopts her Wednesday Addams persona to intimidate the twins into behaving. ♡

Grief: Y/N's mourning the loss of her soulmate, Jenna, who was tragically killed by a drunk driver. The narrative explores the torment of navigating life without Jenna, the love of her life, her safe place, and her guiding light. △

Celia St. James is an arrogant bitch series: Jenna gets the main role in an upcoming movie, an adaptation of the book 'The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo'. She's perfect for the part, the only problem is, she hates her coworker, Y/N, who also plays her love interest, Celia St. James in the movie. △ / ♡

chapter 1 chapter 2 chapter 3 chapter 4 chapter 5

Tinder: What started as a casual, half-serious Tinder interaction turns into a genuine love story. Just a bunch of playful messages between two Tinder matches, Y/N and Jenna, over the course of more than two years. ♡

Fletcher

Mariska Hargitay

Gracie Abrams

Characters:

Law and Order SVU

Casey Novak

World's Worst Detectives: The detectives of the Special Victims Unit are thrown for a loop when Y/N walks in wearing a massive diamond ring, casually revealing her secret five-year relationship and recent engagement to ADA Casey Novak. The revelation sends the team into a mix of disbelief, betrayal, and laughter as they struggle to process how the two managed to keep such a major secret under their noses. ♡

Swipe Right for Sarcasm: Casey Novak, the sharp-tongued ADA, dives into Tinder at the insistence of her friend, Olivia Benson. After a sea of uninspiring profiles, she matches with Y/N whose sarcasm rivals her own. What begins as a battle of wit quickly turns into a connection Casey didn’t expect, their banter leaving her both annoyed and intrigued. ♡

Her Intern: Casey finds herself navigating uncharted emotional territory when her new intern, Y/N, enters her life. Y/N's sharp intellect and enthusiasm for justice awaken feelings Casey has never experienced before. Feelings for another woman. As Casey and Y/N work together on high-stakes cases, a quiet bond forms between them, filled with late nights, meaningful conversations, and moments of shared vulnerability. Though Casey maintains her professionalism, she begins to cherish the inspiration and light Y/N brings to her life. ♡

Woman of Many Talents: When a late-night toilet malfunction leaves Y/N helpless in her office, she reluctantly seek help from ADA Casey Novak, the sharp, confident lawyer working late nearby. To Y/N's surprise, Casey agrees to assist, shedding her usual polished demeanor (along with her blazer) to tackle the plumbing issue with unexpected determination. As she takes off a few of her clothing and gets to work, her striking appearance leave you flustered and captivated. ♡

Behind the Screen: After joining an anonymous online debate forum, “Justice Anonymous,” to vent about legal injustices, Y/N finds a verbal sparring partner in the infuriatingly brilliant “AmicusCuriae.” Meanwhile, in real life, she struggles with constant clashes with their competitive and sharp-witted coworker, Casey Novak. The online debates grow into something deeper, revealing surprising compatibility between the two. ♡

Second Thoughts: After weeks of subtle flirtation and unspoken tension, Casey's fear of ruining her friendship with Y/N has kept her from taking the next step. However, seeing Y/N receive attention from someone else finally forces her to confess her feelings. ♡

Jealousy: Chester Lake, a charming and confident detective, seems to be paying a little too much attention to Y/N's girlfriend, Casey Novak. While Chester’s actions appear harmless, Y/N's irritation and possessiveness escalate, leading to some sharp exchanges throughout the day. Casey reminds Y/N of her unwavering love and passionately reaffirms her devotion, leaving no room for lingering insecurity. ♡

Legal Bindings: Initially brought together by a shared commitment to justice, Y/N's and Casey's connection blossoms into a romantic partnership filled with warmth and genuine moments. However, the inherent challenges of Casey's demanding career cast a shadow over their growing bond. ♡

Home is Where You Are: Casey comes home weighed down by a tough day at work, her frustration amplified by her SVU colleagues' lack of trust and cold hostility. You sooth her with kind words, tender care, and reassurance, helping her relax a little. ♡

Blind Spot: Casey has been unknowingly caught in a flirtatious game with her colleague, Y/N, for weeks. Y/N consistently flirts with Casey through subtle gestures but Casey remains oblivious, chalking it up to Y/N’s friendly personality. ♡

Distraction: Casey is working from home on a Sunday, but her focus wavers as her girlfriend flaunts a scandalously short mini skirt, leading to a steamy interruption at the dining table. ☆

Laced Intentions: Casey finds herself in an unexpectedly intimate situation when she decides to fold laundry in Y/N's apartment while she's in the shower. Her curiosity leads her to discover Y/N's organized collection of lingerie, leaving her blushing and intrigued. When Y/N catch her red-handed, the playful tension between them escalates as Casey's professional demeanor slips, and flirtation takes over. ♡/☆(ish)

Accident: After Y/N Benson is hospitalized following a car accident, her mother, Olivia Benson, rushes to her side, unaware that ADA Casey Novak, Y/N’s secret girlfriend, is just as panicked and insists on coming along. As the hours stretch in the hospital, Olivia grows suspicious of Casey’s unwavering presence, only for Casey to confess she’s in love with Y/N. ♡

Picture Perfect: Casey Novak, the new ADA in the Special Victims Unit, struggles to connect with the detectives, who remain loyal to her predecessor, Alex Cabot. Despite her professional demeanor, Casey feels isolated until a visit from her partner, Y/N, and their twin daughters, Victoria and Madison, offers a glimpse of her loving home life and surprises the squad. ♡

Home Run: Casey’s strength and commanding presence were always evident, but watching her dominate the softball field brought a whole new appreciation. From her effortless precision on the field to the way her confidence and athleticism captivated you, she left you completely undone. When she caught onto your flustered admiration, Casey teasingly leaned into it, her charm and strength leaving no room for doubt that she was every bit as powerful as she seemed. ♡

Heels: Casey, usually brimming with confidence, found herself surprisingly nervous as she visited her girlfriend’s apartment for the first time. What started as a simple evening quickly turned playful when Casey noticed the height difference between them, leading to lighthearted teasing and flirtation. Beneath the humor, Casey’s genuine admiration and affection for her girlfriend shone, deepening their bond. ♡

Curveball: Casey is hilariously out of her depth when it comes to handling jealousy. Spotting her on-again/off-again flame laughing with someone else at a batting cage, she awkwardly tries to insert herself into the situation, pretending to love baseball while clearly struggling with both the sport and her feelings. ♡

Every Little Thing You Do: Y/N finds herself completely undone by Casey, whose every action ignites an irresistible desire. From fixing a car in a leather jacket to cooking dinner with effortless care. Whether on the baseball field or during a simple dinner outing, Casey's charisma and intensity leaves her breathless. ☆

Olivia Benson

Teamwork: After a long, exhausting day, Y/N struggles to manage dinner and their agitated daughter while feeling overwhelmed. When Olivia comes home, she quickly notices Y/N’s stress and steps in to save the day by playing hide and seek with their daughter. Later, after the house quiets down, Olivia comforts Y/N, reminding her that she doesn’t have to carry everything alone. ♡

Home to Love: After a grueling week of work, Olivia returns home, utterly drained but grateful to be back with her family. Her wife, Y/N, and their five-year-old daughter, Sophie, have transformed the living room into a cozy spa night setup to help Olivia unwind. The evening is filled with laughter, love, and tender moments as Olivia is pampered and reminded of the joy and peace her family brings her. ♡

Safe: After just a few dates with Olivia Benson, Y/N finds herself in a dangerous situation when her drink is spiked at a bar. Realizing something is wrong, Y/N calls Olivia for help. Olivia arrives immediately, arrests the perpetrator with the help of Elliot, and takes Y/N home to take care for her. ♡

Femininity: Olivia struggles with feeling forced into the “masculine” role in her relationship with her ultra-feminine girlfriend, Y/N, who loves makeup, dresses, and all things girly. Olivia’s insecurities about not being “feminine enough” lead her to overcompensate by trying to conform to heteronormative expectations. Y/N notices this and reassures Olivia that being feminine isn’t about clothes or roles. Being a woman is enough. With Y/N’s encouragement, Olivia begins to embrace vulnerability and explore her own expression of femininity. ♡

Alex Cabot

Does Your Mother Know: Alex, a confident and composed professional finds herself unexpectedly intrigued when a younger, gorgeous woman boldly approaches her. Alex balances between maintaining her cool detachment and indulging her curiosity. ♡

Things We Don’t Say: As a new detective, Y/N never expected Alex Cabot to be the one who could disarm her with a glance. What started as stolen moments and quiet conversations after late nights on the job soon became something more, though neither of them dared to define it. But everything changes after one unexpected night when Y/N sees Alex with someone else. ♡

Unexpected: Alex's world is overturned completely by the arrival of a brilliant new hire. What begins as a professional curiosity soon evolves into a deeper, more complicated attraction, one that challenges Alex’s understanding of herself and her desires. ♡

Jealousy Looks Good on You: Alex left the DA’s office to dedicate her career to working full-time with domestic violence victims. In her new role, she crosses paths with Y/N, a rookie cop with a growing crush on Alex. Y/N believes Alex is straight and doesn’t dare to make a move, until Alex finds out Y/N is going on a date with someone else. ♡

Hidden Ink: After Y/N gets a new tattoo she eagerly await her wife's, Alex’s return from a long day. Once at home, Y/N makes Alex find her well hidden ink. The little game turns into something much more intimate. ♡

Untouched: Alex found herself challenged by your unwavering affection when you entered her life. Initially overwhelmed by your casual touches and playful kisses, she slowly began to let her walls down. ♡

After All These Years: Late at night, Alex shows up at Y/N's apartment after being gone for 3 years. Y/N's guards are up and she's not sure if she can ever forgive Alex for disappearing without a word, without explanation. △(ish)

All I Want for New Year’s Eve Is You: Alex and Y/N spend a quiet New Year's Eve together in Alex's Manhattan apartment, enjoying each other's company and sharing a deep, intimate connection. They kiss, talk, and explore their desire for one another. ☆

Winning Hearts: Alex meets Y/N’s skeptical parents for the first time, determined to win their approval. Though they’re initially guarded, her charm, humor, and clear love for you gradually break through their defenses. ♡

Princess Charming: Y/N's warmth and charm crack Alex carefully curated walls, leaving her flustered yet intrigued. As they continue to interact, Y/N unwavering kindness and genuine affection become a solace in Alex's chaotic world, challenging her to embrace vulnerability. Over time, Alex discovers the joy of letting someone in, finding in Y/N a partner who sees her strength and her softness. ♡

Everything You Deserve: Y/N feels out of place while shopping at an upscale Manhattan boutique with her sophisticated girlfriend, Alex. Though Alex insists Y/N deserves the best, Y/N struggles with accepting extravagance and wants to give Alex a gift that’s truly special. ♡

One Night Stand: After meeting at a bar a late Tuesday night, Alex and Y/N share a nice conversation that leads to a one-night stand. ☆

Misunderstood: Y/N harbors unspoken feelings for her close friend, Alex, a brilliant and captivating ADA. Misunderstandings and rumors about Alex’s relationship with someone else cause Y/N to distance herself, despite the pain it brings. △/♡

Tea Party: Y/N, a tea-loving romantic gets excited for her first "tea party" with her wife Alex, expecting charm and elegance. Instead, she finds a boring lawyer hangout with wine and no tea in sight. ♡

Bored: Y/N gets extremely bored while Alex is working from home and she desperately needs attention. ♡

Amanda Rollins

A Village in You: When Y/N, a new single mom re-entering the workforce, starts her job at the 16th Precinct, Amanda Rollins becomes her biggest source of support. From late-night daycare pickups to baking cookies on rainy afternoons, Amanda becomes a steady presence for both Y/N and her daughter, Ellie. Over time, their bond grows into something deeper, giving Y/N the village she didn’t know she needed and a chance at love she never expected. ♡

Grey's Anatomy

Addison Montgomery

Meredith Grey

Arizona Robbins

Callie Torres

Carina DeLuca

Elevator Effect: When Y/N, the new OB/GYN attending at Grey Sloan Memorial arrives for her first day in casual clothes, she catches the attention of Carina in the elevator. Mistaking her for a visitor, Carina boldly flirts, unaware of Y/N's true identity. Y/N decides to keep her secret, enjoying the playful banter and the promise of inevitable embarrassment. As the day unfolds, their paths cross again and again, sparking witty exchanges. ♡

April Kepner

Amelia Shepherd

Lexie Grey

Jo Wilson

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girlkisser13 · 9 months ago

Text

"i felt it, you held it" "do you miss us, us" "wonder if you regret the secret" "of us, us"

pairings: eloise bridgerton x royal fem!reader

warnings/tags: none. jealous and insecure eloise. childhood best friends to strangers to lovers.

summary: when your mother announces that you are to be wed to the most eligible suitor in london, you are faced with the decision of whether to fulfill your duty to your country or to follow the inclinations of your heart.

the grand hall of buckingham palace was alive with the murmur of conversation and the soft strains of the orchestra, but eloise felt none of the joy that permeated the air. her heart was heavy with the weight of unspoken words and unfulfilled love. tonight, the queen had announced that her beloved daughter was to be wed to the most eligible suitor in london. a proclamation that had caused eloise's heart to ache with a deep and abiding sorrow.

the two of you had been inseparable since childhood, bound by a love that neither of you fully understood nor questioned. but the years had wrought a cruel separation upon you both, and eloise was determined to understand why.

she had heard rumors that you were sent away in preparation for your future role in the royal court. during those long years, eloise had poured her heart into countless letters, each one a testament to her unwavering affection. but to her dismay, she had never received a single response. your time away had polished your manners and refined your poise.

as eloise stood by the refreshment table, her gaze was drawn to the dais where you sat beside your mother, the royal family was the epitome of dignity, yet your eyes seemed to search the room with a longing that mirrored her own.

as the queen's pronouncement echoed in her mind, eloise felt a surge of determination. she could not let this night pass without seeking the truth from you. she knew that your marriage was a matter of state, a union that would strengthen alliances and secure the future of the kingdom. but how could she bear to see the love of her life bound to another?

unable to endure the torment any longer, eloise made her way through the crowd, her heart pounding with determination. she reached the dais and curtsied before the queen, her voice steady despite the turmoil within her.

"your majesty," eloise began, "may i have a word with princess y/n?"

the queen, surprised by the request, nodded her assent. you rose gracefully and followed eloise to a secluded alcove, away from prying eyes and curious ears.

"why did you never write to me, eloise?" your voice trembling with a mixture of anger and hurt as soon as the two of you were alone.

her heart ached at the pain in your eyes. "i did write, my love. countless letters, each one filled with the longing and devotion i feel for you. but i never received a response. i feared you had forgotten me."

your eyes widened in shock. "i never received any letters, eloise. not a single one. my brother must have intercepted them."

eloise felt a mixture of relief and anger. “your brother? why would he do such a thing?”

“he always believed that you were a distraction from my duties,” you said, your voice tinged with bitterness. “he thought he was doing what was best for me.”

eloise took your hands in hers, her voice softening. "y/n, i have loved you since we were children. i have never stopped loving you. do you remember the summer we spent in the rose garden, reading to each other? it was then that i knew i loved you, truly and deeply."

tears welled up in your eyes. "i remember it well. and i feel the same. i always have. i never stopped thinking about you, even when i was away. you were my first kiss, my first love, my first everything. i never forgot. i do not believe i ever will."

the realization of your lost years struck the both of you deeply. you had been kept apart by forces beyond your control and yet, your love had endured. now, faced with the prospect of a marriage of duty, your heart cried out for the freedom to choose your own path.

eloise hesitated, her voice barely above a whisper. "but when you did not respond, i thought perhaps you were ashamed of what we shared, that you had moved on."

your eyes filled with fierce determination. "ashamed? never. you have always been my heart's desire, eloise."

you leaned in, closing the distance between the two of you, capturing eloise's lips in a kiss that spoke of all the love, longing, and promises of their past. the kiss was a reassurance, a silent vow that your love had endured and would continue to endure, no matter the obstacles.

as you parted, your voice was resolute. "i will find a way for us to be together, eloise. i will speak to my mother. our love is worth fighting for."

eloise nodded, her heart swelling with hope. "together, we can face anything."

hand in hand, the two of you returned to the ballroom, your resolve unshaken. in each other, you both found the courage to follow the inclinations of your hearts, no matter the cost.

#bridgerton #bridgerton fandom #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton fic #eloise bridgerton #eloise bridgerton fanfiction #eloise bridgerton fic #eloise bridgerton x reader #eloise bridgerton x you #eloise bridgerton imagine #eloise bridgerton smut #gracie abrams #taylor swift #the secret of us #tsou #taygracie #us #spotify

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geotjwrs · 10 months ago

Note

Can you please do a Gracie Abrams x male reader, where Gracie and r are dating and celebrate the release of risk and close to you at a party. A fluff start with a bit of smut at the end :)

I don't know if the requests are open, it's okay if u can't do it.

Btw, i love your writing, man :)

afterparty (18+)

Pairings ; Gracie Abrams x Male!Reader

Warning/s ; smut

Gracie's apartment was buzzing with excitement, the air electric with laughter and music. The party was in full swing, celebrating the release of her latest singles, "Risk" and "Close to You." Friends and fellow musicians filled the space, glasses clinking in toasts to Gracie's success.

Y/N navigated through the crowd, a proud smile on his face. He spotted Gracie across the room, talking animatedly with a group of friends. Her eyes sparkled with joy, and he couldn't help but feel his heart swell with pride. Tonight was her night, and she was glowing.

Making his way over, Y/N gently placed a hand on Gracie's back. She turned, her face lighting up even more when she saw him.

"Hey, you," she greeted, her voice warm. "Having fun?"

"Of course," he replied, leaning in to kiss her cheek. "I'm so proud of you, Gray. The songs are incredible."

Gracie blushed, a bashful smile playing on her lips. "Thank you. I couldn't have done it without your support."

They were interrupted by a cheer from across the room. One of their friends had grabbed a guitar and was strumming the opening chords of "Risk." The crowd hushed, turning their attention to the impromptu performance.

Gracie's eyes met Y/N's, and she gave him a small nod. Understanding immediately, he gently guided her towards the makeshift stage. She grabbed a microphone, and as the first notes of "Risk" filled the room, she began to sing.

Y/N watched, captivated by her voice. Her lyrics told stories of vulnerability and courage, and he knew just how much of herself she poured into her music. As she transitioned into "Close to You," the room seemed to hold its breath, everyone caught in the spell of her performance.

When she finished, the room erupted in applause and cheers. Gracie's cheeks were flushed with happiness as she handed the microphone back and made her way to Y/N.

"That was amazing," he said, pulling her into a tight hug. "You're amazing."

Gracie hugged him back, her voice muffled against his chest. "I couldn't have asked for a better night. Thank you for being here."

"Always," he whispered, kissing the top of her head. "I'm always here for you."

They spent the rest of the evening mingling with friends, laughing, and celebrating. Every now and then, Y/N would catch Gracie's eye across the room, and they would share a private smile, a silent understanding passing between them.

As the party began to wind down, Y/N found Gracie on the balcony, looking out at the city lights. He joined her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

As they sat together, enjoying the cool breeze that caressed their faces, Gracie couldn't help but feel grateful for Y/N's constant support and love. They had been through so much together, and she knew deep down that he was the one she wanted to share her life with.

Y/N, on the other hand, couldn't help but feel aroused by the sight of his beautiful girlfriend, her eyes glistening with excitement from the night's events. He couldn't wait to get her alone and show her just how much he desired her.

After a moment of silence, Gracie suddenly stood up, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "You know, Y/N," she began, "I've been wanting to do something with you all night."

Y/N's heart raced at the thought of what was to come. "What's that?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Gracie bit her lip seductively and leaned in closer to him, her breasts brushing against his chest. "Well," she purred, "how about we take this inside, and I show you exactly how grateful I am for everything you've done for me?"

Y/N's eyes widened with anticipation, and he nodded eagerly, his hands already reaching for Gracie's hips as he pulled her closer. They shared a passionate kiss as they stumbled into the room, their desire for each other growing with every step.

Once inside, Gracie led Y/N to her bedroom, a soft glow from the moonlight illuminating the room. She turned to face him, her eyes smoldering with desire as she slowly unbuttoned her blouse, revealing her perfectly perky breasts encased in a lacy black bra.

Y/N's eyes lingered on her curves, his cock already hardening at the sight of her. He stepped forward, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her close. "God, Gracie," he murmured, his lips brushing against her ear, "you're so fucking beautiful."

Gracie shivered at his touch, a soft moan escaping her lips as she felt his erection pressing against her thigh. She reached down, her fingers deftly unbuttoning his jeans and sliding them down his muscular legs, leaving him standing before her in nothing but his boxers.

Taking a step back, Gracie slowly began to strip for Y/N, her movements smooth and sensual as she revealed her own body to him. She unzipped her skirt, letting it fall to the floor, and then unhooked her bra, allowing her breasts to spill free.

Y/N's eyes widened as he took in the sight of Gracie's naked body, her skin glowing in the moonlight. She stood before him, completely exposed, and yet she seemed to exude confidence and power.

Gracie smiled seductively, watching as Y/N's eyes devoured her curves. She took a step towards him, her hands reaching for the bulge in his boxers. "Do you want to touch me, baby?" she purred, her voice low and sultry.

Y/N growled in response, his hands gripping her hips as he pulled her close. He kissed her deeply, his tongue probing her mouth as his fingers traced the curve of her ass.

Gracie moaned into the kiss, her body trembling with desire. She reached down, her fingers sliding beneath the waistband of Y/N's boxers and pulling them down, revealing his throbbing erection.

Y/N groaned as Gracie's fingers wrapped around his cock, her touch sending shivers of pleasure down his spine. He couldn't believe how good it felt to be with her like this, to share such an intimate moment with the woman he loved.

Gracie smiled at the sight of Y/N's arousal, her own desire building with every stroke of her hand. She dropped to her knees, her eyes locked on his as she took him into her mouth, her tongue swirling around the head of his cock.

Y/N gasped as Gracie's lips enveloped him, her mouth hot and wet against his sensitive skin. He threaded his fingers through her hair, guiding her movements as she sucked and licked him, her moans of pleasure vibrating against his shaft.

As Y/N's pleasure built, Gracie could feel her own arousal growing, her pussy throbbing with need. She wanted him inside her, wanted to feel him fill her up and fuck her until she was screaming with ecstasy.

Eager to please, Gracie pulled away from Y/N's cock, her eyes smoldering with desire as she looked up at him. "I need you inside me, Y/N," she whispered, her voice husky with need.

Y/N growled in response, his hands gripping Gracie's hips as he lifted her onto the bed. He positioned himself between her legs, his eyes locked on hers as he slowly slid inside her.

Gracie gasped as Y/N filled her, her pussy clenching around his cock as he began to thrust, his movements slow and deliberate at first. He leaned down, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered dirty words of encouragement, telling her how much he loved watching her writhe beneath him.

Gracie moaned in response, her hands gripping Y/N's back as she urged him on, her hips rising to meet his every thrust. She felt her orgasm building deep within her, the sensation starting in her core and spreading outwards until her entire body trembled with pleasure.

Y/N could feel Gracie's pussy tightening around him, her moans growing louder with every thrust. He knew she was close, and he wanted to make sure she came hard for him.

Increasing his pace, Y/N drove into Gracie, his cock pounding into her with increasing intensity. He could feel her orgasm building, her pussy clenching around him as she cried out in pleasure.

With a final, powerful thrust, Y/N felt his own orgasm building, the sensation starting in his cock and spreading outwards until his entire body trembled with pleasure. He groaned as he came, his hot cum spurting deep inside Gracie as she screamed his name.

As their bodies slowly calmed, Y/N rolled off Gracie, pulling her into his arms as they lay together in the afterglow of their lovemaking. They shared a soft kiss, their lips lingering as they basked in the warmth of each other's love.

#gracie abrams #gracie abrams tsou #gracie abrams x y/n #gracie abrams one shot #gracie abrams x male reader #gracie abrams imagine #gracie abrams fanfiction #gracie abrams x reader #gracieabrams #dailywomen #imagine #fanfic #one shot

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memoirofasparklemuff1n · 3 months ago

Note

I hope you are well, sorry if there are any errors (English is not my native language), I love your stories, I would like you to write one of anguish, sadness, as sad as you can, about Rafe. I would appreciate it very much

long sleeves- r.c. x reader

i made a part 2!!!

OMGG my first request!!! i'm good and i hope you are as well <3 thank you for asking bb. sorry i took so long, i just started school and i hadn't seen this for some reason, but i gotchu. and don't worry about the english, it's not my first language either, so i see you hehe I HOPE THIS IS SAD ENOUGH!! if not lmk, cuz i'll crank it up. a/n: i actually had this idea earlier today so i think i can do this. i hope you like gracie abrams cuz it's inspired by long sleeves and i've wanted to use this song in something since it came out lol. warnings: drug mentions with addiction portrayal and domestic violence, as well as depression. if it's too much don't read it, take care of yourself first! <3

i don't know what it is about how you breathe.

his chest rising and falling, his face turned away from me even in his sleep. it seemed like it was always this way now, so much so that i couldn't even remember the last time his eyes warmed my soul instead of turning it into ice. i turned to face the ceiling and took in a few deep breaths, before i untangled myself from his sheets and padded toward the bathroom. i turned on the light before locking the door behind me and turned to face the mirror. my hollow, tired face staring back at me. when had i become this girl? i stepped closer as if in fear of seeing up close the sadness that invaded my features. dark circles looked permanently etched to my skin a shiver passing through me. i looked down at my arms, which were covered by rafe's long sleeved shirt. i lifted them slowly and saw the bruises that circled my wrists like a twisted version of bracelets.

he hurt me. not just emotionally this time, he physically hurt me.

i'll never hurt you, okay? how stupid i'd been to believe those words, when all he ever did was hurt me. again and again and again. the worst part being that i always forgave him, but i couldn't this time, not when the evidence was staring right at me in the mirror. i had to do this for her, for me. i pull the sleeves down and left the sad girl in the mirror forever. the doorknob somehow felt like the scariest thing in the world. it's just a door, don't be an idiot. i rolled my eyes because that was the only thing i could be these days. a fucking idiot.

i gathered what little courage i still had left and opened the door silently, relieved to see him in the same position as before. i went to the side of his bed as quietly as i could and looked at his face for what felt like forever. his hair fell over his forehead in a childlike manner, no angry lines or hateful glares in sight.

when had i lost him? the love of my life, my soulmate, my best friend?

this was all my fault, i turned my back at the wrong moment. his stupid friends encouraging him to try out this new 'kicker'. snow, they called it. ridiculous. when i came back he was cutting that ivory into skinny pieces, then he cleaned it with his face. i remember standing there in shock and a sizzling rage began brimming to the surface. i stalked towards him pushing his face back, then dragging him by the arm outside of whatever stupid kook's house we were at.

that was the first time we'd ever fought and i felt my heart crack a little. he knew how much i hated drugs, the way they ruined people. hell, i even hated drinking but it wasn't my body so whatever. this was different and he knew it, but of course he always had to be the coolest guy around his friends. i'd walked home that night, waking up to him blasting my phone with calls and text messages. he'd apologized and i'd believed him.

then he apologized again, then again and again. the cycle had already formed. i'd accepted his outbursts despite them hurting me emotionally, maybe because i couldn't see the bruises up front.

it was hard to believe this was the same boy who'd screamed at me. who told me he hated me to my face with his hands wrapped around my wrists hard enough to bruise just a few hours earlier before passing out after getting high again. he almost looked like his old self, almost being the keyword. his nose still had a bit of white powder on it, a baggie of cocaine and a rolled up $100 bill at the side, along with some pills that i didn't even want to know what they were.

i turned and took out the bag i usually brought when i was staying over at his house, before walking towards the dresser and opening the drawers. i had a small haul of clothes for when i was here for more than a day or two and couldn't help but let the tears start streaming down my face. i remembered the day he'd made this small space for me, the gesture solidifying our relationship in my head. i remembered his smile and the way he'd kissed my face for what seemed a million times. "i love you, kid." he always called me kid in a teasing way because it irritated the hell out of me but when he said it like that, i knew i'd let him call me whatever he wanted and i'd gladly accept it.

the memory was a stark contrast to the now cold room, with the moon as my only witness. i finished packing everything before putting on sweatpants and my shoes. i felt him stir a bit and i pleaded to whatever divine power was out there that he'd just pretend it was only wind.

i looked at his beautiful face one more time, a single tear falling to his side, the irony not lost on me.

i turned and left him behind. the tears blurred my vision just enough that i couldn't record the final moments in which i would ever walk these halls again.

y'all why she so dramatic with her packing up, lmaoo. (i literally would’ve been worse)

ok but on a serious note, if you or anybody you know is in a similar situation, please try your best to break the cycle <3 i'm thinking of maybe writing a part two but i don't know if i should sooo lmk. div creds!!- by @anitalenia

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wh0reforcoriolanussnow · 1 year ago

Text

“I’m a big fan” || Tom Blyth x singer!reader

GIFs by me :)

Summary: in which after Tom reveals that he is a big fan of you, especially after you’re a part of soundtrack of tbosas, you and Tom are caught being awfully close to each other a few weeks after.

Warnings: fem!reader

Wc: 643

A/n: Sorry I haven't uploaded a tom blyth x singer!reader fic in abit! I've got another one sitting in my drafts that I need to finish :)

Tom Blyth x singer!reader au masterlist

divider by @pommecita

“Tom and Hunter on…. Y/n Abrams’ Hunger Games single” “So good. It's so good,” Tom says immediately. Hunter squeals, throwing her hands up in the air.

"I love Y/n Abrams," Hunter fangirls, a huge smile plastered on her face. "Yeah, I'm a big fan of her honestly. I hope I get to meet her someday," Tom has never mentioned you on the internet before.

Truthfully, he has always been a fan of your music since you first released your first album and has stayed a loyal fan. He would be lying if he said he didn't have a crush on you, I mean who wouldn't, you are Y/n Abrams.

So when he saw your post on instagram announcing that you were going to be a part of tbosas soundtrack with 'Can't catch me now' Tom was absolutely fangirling

Of course you were familiar with Tom but the two of you have yet to meet. You remember seeing him on screen for the first time when your sister had Billy the Kid playing on your tv at home, and you were hooked.

You understood why the girlies were head over heels for Tom, he was crazy attractive, a gentleman, and an absolute sweetheart. When you saw the interview that mentioned him, you were dying to meet him as well.

Little did he know that you would be attending the LA premiere for the tbosas and would see him for sure. “Y/n, any one in particular your excited to see today?” A woman asks as she directs her mic at you.

“Uh- yeah actually, I’m excited to finally meet Tom!” You couldn’t help but feel the corners of your mouth rise. “Really? Well I interviewed just a couple moments ago and he said the same with you!” Your eyes slightly widen as your eyes look around.

“I think he’s over there,” The woman points to the other side as you thank her before making your way that way. You were whisked into another interview before you could go any further.

As you were talking, you felt a hand on your shoulder as you jump. “Shit-“ “Sorry-“ You turn your head and was pleasantly surprised seeing those pair of blue eyes stare straight back at you. "Tom!" Your smile widens as you grip his biceps, his hands politely gripping your waist.

"Y/n! Finally we meet!" He chuckles as you could feel the rumble coming from his chest. "It's so lovely to meet you," You pull him in for a hug, all the while the camera still focused on the two of you. All though the two of you just met, you felt so comfortable around him, and he felt the exact same way.

"I'm such a big fan, Y/n," He says against the side of your head, his hand rubbing your back before you pull back. "Oh stop, I'm such a big fan of you too, Tom!" You exclaim before you remember you were still mid interview. "Oh! I'm so sorry," You sheepishly smile at the girl who laughed.

"Sorry, It's my fault for interrupting you. I'll see you soon?" Tom butts in, his arm around your shoulder as he pulls you into his chest. It didn't feel awkward or uncomfortable the way the two of you interacted with each other, it was more natural and familiar.

"Yeah of course, I'll see you then," You look up at him, you nearly stopped breathing at how close he was to you. "Bye, darling," He bids you goodbye as you watch his tall figure leaving. "No way the two of you met just then," The young woman asked, shock evident in her tone.

A breathy laugh escapes your lips, "Yep, it feel's like I've known him my entire life!" "It looked like it!" The woman exclaims as the two of you laugh.

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fratboyharrys-gf · 4 months ago

Text

𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬 | 𝐇.𝐒.

SUMMARY: harry goes home with YN for christmas to meet her family.

WARNINGS: none

WORD COUNT: 1.7k || masterlist

A/N: merry christmas/happy holidays! this is so rushed because i wanted to get it out today so its def not the best 😭 but thank you so so much for all of the support already it means so much :’)

join my taglist here!

The snow fell heavily from the night sky, cascading downwards in a flurry of glittering white. YN sat in the passenger seat of Harry's car, staring out her window at the beautiful scenery, her breath slightly fogging up the cold glass.

A sudden warmth on her thigh broke her from her daydream, and she knew it was Harry’s hand. She swiveled her head to glance at him, finding his gaze fixed intently on the road, and his other hand firmly gripping the steering wheel.

YN broke the silence by asking a question, her voice laced with a hint of concern. “Are you nervous?” She inquired, her gaze flickering from Harry’s hand to his face as they traveled towards her parent's home. They were scheduled to stay for a few days for the holidays, during which time Harry would have the opportunity to meet her family.

YN saw the look of nervousness on his face as her hand sought out Harry’s, its warmth enveloping his. She gently squeezed, offering a reassuring smile as she said, “You have nothing to worry about. They’ll love you. I love you. I know they will too.”

Harry glanced over at her, her smile showing a hint of nervousness. He rotated his hand, interlocking their fingers together before refocusing on the road ahead of them. “I hope you’re right. It means a lot to me to be liked by your parents,” he confessed, lifting their intertwined hands to gently press his lips upon the back of hers. “And I love you too.” He placed their hands back in her lap.

As they pulled into YNs family’s home, Harry took a deep breath and shut off the engine. He turned to YN, a flicker of nerves still apparent in his expression. She took his hand in hers once again and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

”You’ll be fine.” She said, her voice soft yet steady. “They‘ll love you just as much as I do.” She leaned in closer, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek.

”Thank you, love.” Harry responded with a small smile.

They sat in silence for a few moments more, their hands still joined together. Harry’s thumb stroked gently over YN’s knuckles, a small gesture that comforted them both. Finally, Harry spoke again.

”Ready?” He asked, his voice laced with anticipation.

YN nodded, her anticipation mingled with a sense of excitement. She looked at Harry, admiring his courage in facing her family for the first time.

”I’m ready,” She answered, “Let’s go.”

Harry unbuckled his seatbelt, hesitating momentarily before opening his door and stepping out into the cold winter air. He took a deep breath and then made his way around to the passenger side, opening YNs door and holding out a hand for her to take.

YN took his hand, feeling his warm palm against her cold one as he led her from the car. Together, their hands intertwined once again, they made their way towards the front door of her family’s home.

The sound of laughter and conversation filtered through the door, giving him a glimpse of the welcoming family that awaited him inside. YN glanced at Harry, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

He returned her smile, his grip on her hand tightening slightly before he brought his other hand up to knock on the door.

After waiting a couple of seconds, it swung open, revealing YNs mother, which Harry knew because of the many pictures he had seen.

“You’re here!” She exclaimed excitedly before pulling her daughter in for a hug.

”Hi mom.” YN smiled, immediately hugging her back just as tightly. It had been so long since she had last seen her.

As they separated, YNs mother turned her attention to Harry, a kind smile on her face. “And you must be Harry.” She said. “We’ve heard so much about you.”

He smiled back at her, feeling a mix of nervousness and excitement. “Yes, ma’am.” He replied, trying to maintain his composure. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Her mother chuckled. “Please call me YMN,” she replied, her smile growing. “And I have to say, YN hasn’t shut up about you lately.”

YN couldn’t help but blush as her mother spoke, her cheeks turning a rosy hue at the mention of how much she talks about Harry. She looked at him apologetically, but he returned her gaze with a smirk, clearly amused.

”Is that so?” He asked, his voice filled with playful teasing. “I hope it’s all been good things.”

YNs mother laughed again. "Oh, don't worry, it has been," she responded, reaching out to pat Harry's arm. "I think you've made quite the impression on her."

YN knew that this was her mother's way of expressing approval and acceptance of him, and she felt a wave of relief wash over her. She knew how important her parents' opinion meant to her relationship, and it seemed like things were going pretty well so far.

Harry smiled, feeling reassured and thankful for the warm welcome from YNs mother. "I'm glad to hear that," he replied, his voice more relaxed than it had been earlier.

YNs mother turned back to her daughter, her expression softening slightly. "Why don't you show him around a bit? Everyone else is in the living room."

YN nodded, wrapping her fingers around Harry's hand again. "Sure, we'll go do that." She looked up at him, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

"Sounds good," Harry responded, returning her smile. They stepped past YNs mother and into the warmth of the house. The foyer was adorned with beautiful holiday decorations and the scent of the dinner that was being cooked filled the air. Harry soaked in the sights and sounds of YNs childhood home, his grip on her hand tightening slightly as she led him through the house.

They passed through a long, narrow hallway with various family photos lining the walls. YN pointed out different ones and shared memories about each, her voice soft and nostalgic.

Harry listened intently, his eyes fixed on the images of YN as a child. He noticed how the woman in the pictures resembled the one walking beside him now, seeing the same sparkle in her eyes and the same dimples in her cheeks.

Finally, YN led him into the living room, where the rest of her family was gathered. They looked up as they entered, all giving them warm smiles and greetings.

YN introduced Harry to each of her family members, who welcomed him with open arms. Harry shook hands with each of them, feeling a bit overwhelmed with nerves again, but YN kept her hand on his arm, giving it a gentle squeeze every now and then as if to remind him that she was there for him.

They spent the next few hours chatting and laughing with YNs family. Harry found himself relaxing and enjoying their company, feeling more comfortable with each passing moment. They asked him questions about his job, his interests, and how he met YN, to which he answered honestly. Throughout it all, YN stayed by his side, offering little touches and discreet smiles whenever he glanced over at her.

Time seemed to fly as they all talked and got to know each other better. Stories were shared, memories were recalled, and more laughs were had. Harry noticed the genuine warmth and acceptance that YNs family showed him, and he felt a profound sense of happiness.

He found himself looking at YN often, her soft smile and loving gaze making his heart flutter. He realized that this was what family was supposed to be like, and he was grateful for it.

The night winded down, and one by one, YNs family said their goodbyes. YN and Harry helped clean up a bit before heading upstairs to the guest room where they would be staying.

As they lay in bed that night, YN snuggled closer to Harry, her head resting on his chest.

Harry wrapped his arms around her, holding her close as his fingers gently traced patterns across her back. He felt a sense of peace and contentment wash over him, the earlier nerves and anxieties completely gone.

He spoke quietly into the darkness, his voice soft and sincere. "Your family is incredible," he said, his fingers still moving against her skin.

YN smiled against his chest, her hand tracing mindless circles on his bare skin. "They really liked you," she whispered, tilting her head up to look at him. "I knew they would."

Harry lifted his hand to brush a strand of hair from her face, his thumb lingering on her cheek. "I liked them too," he responded, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

They were silent for a few moments, simply enjoying each other's presence. YN snuggled closer to him, her body molding effortlessly against his.

Harry tightened his arms around her, his fingers splayed across her back. He rested his chin on the top of her head, inhaling the scent of her hair and feeling the steady rise and fall of her breath against his chest. He couldn't believe how lucky he was to be here with her, surrounded by her loving family and creating memories together.

"I love you," he whispered, the words feeling as natural as breathing.

YN smiled, feeling a warmth spreading through her chest at his words. She pulled away slightly to look up at him, her eyes meeting his in the dim light. "I love you too," she murmured, her voice soft and filled with emotion.

Harry bent down to capture her lips in a gentle kiss, the touch of her mouth sending a jolt of electricity through him. They kissed lazily for a few moments, their mouths moving in perfect harmony before they pulled apart and settled back into each other's arms.

They lay there in silence, their bodies entwined and their breaths syncing. Harry's fingers continued to caress her back, his touch gentle and soothing. YN closed her eyes, listening to the sound of his heartbeat, the steady rhythm lulling her into a state of complete relaxation.

With each passing moment, the weight of the day's events and emotions began to fade away, leaving only a sense of peace and contentment. They both knew that they were exactly where they were meant to be, and they wouldn't want it any other way.

taglist: @nikkimartinez23 @elliedafish @meadowwitchpinklight @howling-wolf97 @carolinaastyles @carolinaskiiwi @tianajames17 @illicitverstappen @cassofheartsss @fangirl509east @fruity-harry

#harry styles #one direction #writers on tumblr #dividers by fairytopea #taylor swift #gracie abrams #sabrina carpenter #zayn #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles blurb

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emloafs · 5 months ago

Text

a binary boyfriends au where the house fight on December 19th never happened, demetri and eli never make up in high school, and the universe keeps pushing them back together (Boston college au)

aka I wanna gage if anyone would read this fic..... (UPDATE: it's written!)

Demetri is having a shitty morning, so he can’t catch a break.

Maybe he was moving too fast. Maybe he was in a rush to get back to his apartment and finally attempt the other nine pages of the ten-page essay he should’ve already finished. Maybe the whole thing could be blamed on his long limbs or his natural clumsiness, but Demetri is fully convinced that this guy ran into him. Not the other way around.

And there goes his second coffee of the day–all over his sneakers, the cafe floor, and the guy who shoulder-checked him at full force.

“Shit!”

“C’mon, man!” the guy barks at the same time.

The guy has the hood of his green sweatshirt pulled up over his head, likely doing very little against the weather outside. He’s got wired earbuds in–like all pretentious douchebags do–and Demetri bitterly thinks he must have his music too loud to be aware of his surroundings, hence the collision. His worn utility jacket may have saved the hoodie from the spill but it looks completely ruined now.

Arguably, Demetri is much better off, notably not covered in hot coffee. But, this is his second spilled coffee in a single morning, and the universe is out to get him, so this guy isn't going to hear the end of it.

“You ran into me!” Demetri protests, fuming.

The guy flicks both his arms a few times, trying to wring out any dripping coffee from his coat sleeves.

Demetri’s never been good at biting his tongue and right now he’s too pissed to hold back. “Maybe if you were actually paying attention to the world around you, and not just plowing in here without a care for other customers or your surroundings, you wouldn’t have ran me over! You know, that’s my second spilled coffee today. I have half a mind to demand you get me a new one-”

The guy finally looks up seemingly to find who is responsible for dumping a medium-sized hot latte all over him. His face is half covered by his hoodie and Demetri can only see an intense side-eye of annoyance as a response to his lecture on the important or personal space. Then, he straightens quickly and narrows his eyes, leaning slightly in to the limited space occupied by a puddle of cooling steamed milk and espresso between them.

“And truly it’s blatantly a matter of safety–”

They lock eye contact and the guy’s eyes widen comically and his eyebrows shoot up so high they disappear above the overhang of his hood.

His voice cracks a little as he interrupts Demetri’s rambling.

“Dem?”

Demetri’s words die halfway through his sentence. Does he know this guy?

The stranger shakes his head roughly and clears his throat. “Sorry, it's just- I…” He looks Demetri up and down and narrows his eyes again. “Is your name Demetri?”

And that's… odd. Demetri inspects the guy’s face as best he can under the sweatshirt hood. He seems sort of familiar, but Demetri can't place it.

Demetri shifts from one foot to the other, suddenly unsure of how to hold his weight under this guy’s intense gaze. “Um. Yes?”

“Oh my- holy shit!” The guy lets out a laugh of disbelief and pulls out his earbuds, letting them hang out of the top of his hoodie. “This is crazy.”

He roughly shoves his hood off of his head, and Demetri’s heart drops into the bottom of his stomach.

He rakes his hand through a thick mop of shaggy light brown hair. Hiding under the hood was a pair of startling blue eyes that Demetri really should’ve recognized. As the not-so-stranger pats the hoodie down behind his neck, Demetri has a clear picture of his entire face. And just before Demetri can come up with a plausible theory on doplegängers, his eyes land on the faint scar rippling from the guy’s upper lip to his nose.

There's just no goddamn way.

So, since Demetri really can’t catch a break this morning, his childhood best friend, Eli Moskowitz, is standing in front of him, covered in his second latte of the morning.

And Demetri wants to say fuck off or what are you doing here or get out of my city or honestly just walk away, but he’s rendered completely frozen. Demetri feels a little like a cartoon character when their jaw completely unhinges and hits the floor with a comical clang. He’s left buffering like a YouTube video being played with a shitty wifi connection.

He hasn’t seen Eli since high school. Hasn’t talked to him in even longer. It’s probably been four years since they last spoke. Not that Demetri is counting. What the hell is he doing in Boston? What the hell is he doing this close to MIT? Just… what the hell?

Eli’s excited expression falters when Demetri doesn’t respond. He scratches the back of his neck sheepishly.

“It’s uh- It’s Eli. Moskowitz?”

Demetri notes first that he introduces himself as Eli, not that ridiculous nickname he coined in school.

He says it as if Demetri doesn’t know. He says it as if Demetri wouldn’t recognize him faster than the back of his own hand even all these years later. His hair is long, too long. It’s curling over his ears and nearly touching his shoulders, and Demetri is pissed because it still looks good. He looks older, he looks better, and all Demetri can see is the tiny Eli he met in first grade who was missing both his front teeth.

Demetri doesn’t know what to make of any of it. This feels like some cosmic joke.

“Uh, no, yeah. Yeah. What- What are you doing here?” Demetri finally manages. His voice sounds a little strangled, but the question comes out bluntly and a bit harsh.

“Uh,” Eli starts, glancing around, and letting out a confused laugh. He raises an eyebrow and shoves his hands in his pockets, gesturing with his coat around the cafe. “Getting coffee? What are you doing here?” he teases.

Demetri really doesn’t have time for this. He rolls his eyes. “Not here. What are you doing in Boston?” he demands.

Eli’s playful expression falls. He furrows his eyebrows. “I live here.”

And that’s- that can’t be right. Demetri lives here. Demetri just started his second semester of his junior year at MIT a month ago. He certainly would’ve noticed if Eli Moskowitz lived in Boston. Right?

“You live… in Boston?”

“Yeah,” Eli shrugs, looking much too nonchalant for Demetri’s liking. “I go to BU.” He cocks his head slightly to the side and earnestly says, “I thought you knew that.”

Demetri did not know that. That’s the thing about no contact. Demetri’s had Eli blocked in all forms of communication since their junior of high school. It’s sort of hard to keep tabs on someone when they’re pretty strictly out-of-sight, out-of-mind.

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