#gracie abrams fanfiction

[geotjwrs]

—MASTERLIST !

(✮) Fluff (✭) Angst (✬) Smut

Jenna Ortega

(✭) Broken Echoes - Jenna Ortega x Male!Reader

(✭) I Smile - Jenna Ortega x Male!Reader

(✮)(✬) wtf! - Jenna Ortega x Male!Reader

(✮) fly bite or love bite?? - Jenna Ortega x Male!Reader

(✮) morning kisses - Jenna Ortega x Male!Reader

(✮) eepy - Jenna Ortega x Male!Reader

(✮) baby fever - Jenna Ortega x Male!Reader

(✭)(✮) beside you - Jenna Ortega x Male!Reader

(✮) goal! - Jenna Ortega x Male!Reader

(✭) lostmyhead - Jenna Ortega x Male!Reader

(✭) ivy - Jenna Ortega x Male!Reader

(✬) trailer - Jenna Ortega x Male!Reader

(✮) art. - Jenna Ortega x Male!Reader

(✮) day-off - Jenna Ortega x Male!Reader

(✬) fitting room - Jenna Ortega x Male!Reader

(✮) snap-shoot - Jenna Ortega x Male!Reader

Madison Beer

(✭) Silent Whispers - Madison Beer x Male!Reader

(✬) boyfriend - Madison Beer x Male!Reader

(✬) hit me up - Madison Beer x Male!Reader

Gracie Abrams

(✭) fuck that get money - Gracie Abrams x Male!Reader

(✮) Risk - Gracie Abrams x Male!Reader

Olivia Rodrigo

(✭) Scott Street - Olivia Rodrigo x Male!Reader

(✮) Spill your GUTS - Olivia Rodrigo x Male!Reader

Megan Fox

(✬) make you mine - Jennifer Check (Megan Fox) x Male!Reader

(✬) i want you - Megan Fox x Male!Reader

—REQUESTS ARE OPEN

[mrsmangi]

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. 

[wh0reforcoriolanussnow]

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.

[fratboyharrys-gf]

“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

[goldsainz]

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😭

[girlkisser13]

us

"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.

[emloafs]

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. 

[starkeynation]

Upcoming stories

ׂׂૢ་༘࿐ Is it casual now?

-inspired by the song Casual by Chappell Roan

ׂׂૢ་༘࿐ I love you, I’m sorry

-based on the song I love you, I’m sorry by Gracie Abrams

ׂׂૢ་༘࿐ The last time

-based on the song The Last Time by Taylor Swift

Idk if anyone would even want to be in my taglist but do lmk!

ׂׂૢ་༘࿐ Read my first work : s3x tape

[riordanness]

i love you, i’m sorry — [p.jackson]

pairing: percy jackson x reader

warnings: sexual innuendos, angst, not a happy ending

wordcount: 1.4K

There was something about the way his dark, messy hair hangs in my eyes as he hovers over me. The way his slender, strong fingers brush it back, only for the front pieces to dangle in his eyes again, the sweat and heat making them slightly curly. Like a little heart.

The way his fingers press into me, in all the right places. My sides, my hips, my cheeks. The way his fingers fit in between mine as he pins my arms against the mattress above me, lacing them through mine in a mixture of comforting reassurance and teasing dominance.

Something about the way his sea green eyes gaze at me, all over, spreading a warmth over me so hot that no blanket could ever compare. The way they sparkle when he stares at me; when he pulls off my shirt and discards it to the floor.

His mouth is two inches of hot, breathy magic. Pressing into my lips, breathing into my mouth. Leaving harsh marks of possession scattered over my skin, maroon reminders of my burning nights at his side.

His touch sets me alight inside, fire burning–curling from my core and swallowing me whole.

Percy Jackson.

The son of Poseidon.

A boy with all the wild passion and fury of the oceans.

He was intoxicating, in every single way.

Which is probably why it hurt so much when I realised that all he wanted was nothing. He wanted a fun and easy fling. Sex, kisses, and distractions. But he didn’t want me.

I didn’t know this at first, of course. It took me a while to get there.

“Hey,” I say easily, one week before the disaster.

“Hey, back,” Percy replies, grinning at me over his shoulder as his fork picks at the blue pancakes piled on his plate.

“Whatcha doing?”

He gives me a look. “Eating breakfast.”

I can’t help but laugh, which is silly and dumb because absolutely nothing is funny, I just love being with him.

“Hey,” I say, sitting down beside him, six days before the disaster.

“Hey, back.” Percy smiles. His legs dangle over the edge of the pier. He’s dressed in only board shorts and sneakers, and I have to fight to keep my eyes away from his bare, tanned torso.

It doesn’t work.

“You’re allowed to look, you know,” Percy says, a smirk on his mouth.

So I do, and I feel warm inside in more ways than one.

“Hey,” I breathe out, five days before the disaster.

“Hey, back,” Percy pants out, his hair falling in his eyes. I have to resist reaching up and brushing it out of the way. I can tell he’s waiting for me to say something, so I take a deep breath and do.

“I know we don’t usually talk during… this.” I chew my lip. “But I just thought I’d mention that you look amazing tonight.”

He smirks, his sea green eyes flirting lazily to meet mine. “You always look amazing.”

And, gods, those words felt better inside of me than, well, whatever else was inside of me right now.

“Hey.” Four days before the disaster.

“Hey, back.” Percy isn’t looking at me. He’s leaning against a pine tree, gazing out at the woods around us.

I kick a loose stone off the trail and watch it bounce twice into the trees. “So…”

Now he looks at me, and as usual, his gaze makes me falter, all rational thoughts dissolving in an instant. “So?”

“Would you want to go on a walk with me?” I ask hesitantly. It was kind of a synonym for asking for us to be official.

Percy just grins. “Sure.”

“Hey,” I sigh, walking beside him with my arms full of mail. Three days before the disaster.

“Hey, back.” Percy’s tongue is tucked into the corner of his mouth as he pulls another letter from my arms, his eyebrows tight as he tries to read it.

“Mail sorting is the worst of all the chores,” I decide.

“Agreed,” he murmurs, eyes still focused on the letter. So instead I focus on his fingers as they curl around the paper, long and slender and familiar.

“Hey.” I’m panting, midway through sword training with Percy. Two days before the disaster.

“Hey, back.” Percy has much more spare breath than me. This is always how we are during the hot nights and stolen afternoons in his cabin, too; I am breathless and he is completely in control.

His sword drops as he gazes at me, a question in his eyes. Usually I don’t talk during our one-on-one training sessions.

“Thanks for always helping me with this stuff,” I manage, trying to focus on the now and not the later. Later, meaning the spare afternoon we both had today. Later, meaning the warm need I was desperately holding at bay until Percy could work his magic and fulfil it.

“Hey,” I approach him slowly. One day before the disaster.

“Hey, back.” Percy glances over at me, and he smiles, sending a shoot of joyful hopefulness through me.

“What are you up to today?” I ask, crossing my fingers behind my back.

His eyes meet mine, and he smiles again. “Hanging with you, I think.”

I suck in my breath, so excited it’s definitely showing in my expression. Are we finally becoming something real? Like I’ve always wanted? “Okay.” I nod. “Okay.”

“Hey.” The day of the disaster.

“Hey, back.”

Percy’s tone lacks any of the warmth he usually (okay, sometimes) shows me, and this week I truly thought something was changing. He was becoming more open to me. We were becoming… I don’t know exactly.

I swallow. “What are you up to this afternoon?” There’s a hidden message hidden in between the words, and Percy knows it.

His mouth curls into a smirk, but it’s not the usual, excited and hungry look. It’s cold and arrogant and patronising.

“Y/n,” he says. “Why do you ask?”

“Um.” His expression is throwing me off, tilting the world sideways and off-balance. My hand kind of waves in midair, like I’m trying to explain something I don’t understand. “Do you want to… meet in your cabin?”

Percy chuckles under his breath, almost scoffing at me. I blink, taken aback. What is happening right now?

“You do know I have other people to spend time with, right?” The way he says it makes me nervous. “Like, gods, you've been so in my life this week, y/n. Give me a break.”

I suck in a breath. “Okay, yeah, sure. We can—space. Got it.” I awkwardly shoot him a double thumbs-up, and immediately regret it.

Percy just looks at me, until a cold feeling of realisation crawls over my skin as the double meaning behind his words finally sinks in. Other people to spend time with. So, other girls to sleep with, is that what he means? Of course it was what he meant. This was Percy Jackson. Did I seriously think we could ever have something real between us? Something beyond the teenage dream of hasty secrecy and hot pursuits?

I purse my lips, and by Percy’s eyes, I know that he meant what I am thinking.

I force a nod, kirt and quick, and turn on my heel. Whisking myself away to hide, hide from him, the rest of camp, and most of all, my feelings.

I was absolutely crushed. Crushed to my core, like a broken piece of apple, trodden down and sinking into the ground. And sink I did, to my knees in the dirt and grass, hidden behind a line of trees in the woods. I hold my breath in check for a count of eight, before my emotions tumble out of control, and I cry.

I let myself cry, because I had also let myself love him, against my better judgement and every single sensible thought in my being.

I loved Percy Jackson, and now I have lost him.

“I love you,” I whisper into the whistling wind. “I’m sorry.”

[baileysturnz]

𓂸𝘣𝘧!𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘵 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳!𝘨𝘧 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘢 𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘰𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘰𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳❥

𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌: 𝖥𝖫𝖴𝖥𝖥, 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗉𝖾𝗍 𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗌 (𝖻𝖺𝖻𝗒, 𝗌𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗍𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗍, 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗒 𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅...), 𝗌𝗈𝖿𝗍!𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋!𝗀𝖿, 𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝖸/𝖭, 𝗌𝗎𝗀𝗀𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗌

𝖺/𝗇: 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗒 𝗆𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿! 𝗆𝗒 𝖿𝗂𝗋𝗌𝗍 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝖻𝗅𝗎𝗋𝖻 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗂𝖿 𝗒𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗆𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖸/𝖭 𝗂 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗋𝖾𝗉𝗅𝖺𝖼𝖾 𝗂𝗍 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖺 𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾. english is not my first language

have a good read!

ꨄ𑁍シ

y/n and matt found themselves on a rainy day in y/n’s apartment. their limbs intertwined on y/n’s couch. they were watching a tv show, those old sitcoms from the 2000s.

“we should do something” matt suggested. y/n got up from her spot on matt’s chest. “what would you like?” she asked with bright eyes looking at matt. “well i know you’re pretty damn sure about what i wanna do”. matt teased with a grin. “matt!” y/n hits him in the arm.

matt sits up. “no but really what could we do?” Y/n asks. “bake something?” matt suggests. “yes! ive been wanting to bake some cinnamon rolls”. “yeah, lets do it sweetheart”.

matt and y/n got up from the couch and went into the kitchen. they gathered all the ingredients and y/n started putting all of the ingredients for the batter in a bowl.

“matt”. y/n says not looking away from the recipe. “can you get me some vanilla extract please?”. “ofcourse baby” matt says as he goes to search for it.

y/n is still stiring and reading the recipe while matt sneaks up behind her and puts his arms around her waist.

“hows that looking, pretty girl?”. he asks kissing her neck. “really delicious” “here”. y/n says as she puts flour on her finger and pokes matts nose. “hey!”. matt exclaims stepping away from her laughing. y/n giggles. “really funny right”. matt grabs a handfull of flour and throws it at her face. she gasps and laughs. “oh youre so done”. she grabs another handfull and chases him through the kitchen. matts stops her and kisses y/n

after a little while the y/n and matt finished the cinnamon rolls and put them in the oven.

“i think we need to have a little time in the bedroom”. matt suggested. “matt!” she giggled as he picked her up and placed on the counter. he placed a trail off kisses from her jawline to her neck and chest.

safe to say the cinnamons came out a little burnt..

ꨄ𑁍シ

a/n: OMFG my first fic! if yall have any request id be honored to do them and if you guys have feedback on my fic pls tell me. im kinda proud of how this turned out to be my first fic. thank you for 21 followers!

𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘦𝘯𝘴

𝖻𝖺𝗂𝗅𝖾𝗒 シ♥

[geotjwrs]

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.

[4vanaa]

WHILE YOU WERE SLEEPING, meet y/n

story summary: y/n left the outer banks years ago, determined to build a life far from the memories of her childhood love, rafe cameron. now a botanist, she’s moved on—though a quiet part of her still clings to the past. when an event brings her back to OBX, she’s forced to confront the one person she never truly forgot.

when they meet again, the connection between them is undeniable. but y/n is in a new relationship—safe, steady, everything rafe isn’t. yet as their paths collide, it becomes clear that the love they shared never really faded, even if life moved on without them.

light mode !! masterlist

ꕤ

✿ she’s sunny, charismatic and optimistic, with a smile that lights up any room. she’s always looking out for others, making everyone feel seen and appreciated. her warmth makes her loved by everyone, though underneath her cheerful exterior lies a deep sensitivity and nostalgia for the past. she shares a special bond with her college roommate, mia, who’s become like a sister to her. while mia is more grounded and analytical, y/n provides the emotional support and optimism that balances their friendship.

✿ she’s passionate about nature, working as a botanist, hoping to one day, open a flower shop. she enjoys painting, writing, and photography, capturing everyday moments on an old film camera.

✿ she left the state for college, flocking across the country, to california. she majored in botany, with a minor in literature in college. known for her radiant personality, she was the heart of many campus events. she was active in her university’s gardening club, and ran her school’s garden center. because of her positivity it was easy to make friends in the unfamiliar environment. her bond with mia was especially strong, as they took on adult life together, mia helping her navigate tough situations.

✿ she met her boyfriend, noah, through a campus sustainability project, bonding through their shared passion for environmental causes. he admired her energy and passion, and their relationship is grounded in mutual trust and respect. though it’s stable and loving, it lacked emotional intimacy. she often found herself yearning for deeper emotional connection, due to noah’s inability to fully express himself. though she often finds herself feeling isolated, she remains with noah as he was her first relationship after heartbreak.

✿ she returns back to the outer banks for sarah’s wedding, she’s excited to reunite with old friends, especially cleo, kie, and sarah. it’s a time for reconnection and celebration, and she’s excited to catch up with everyone. however, being back in the outer banks stirs up complex emotions and memories she hadn’t fully confronted. though her life has moved forward in some ways, there’s an underlying sense of unfinished business with the place and the people who still hold a significant part of her heart. accompanying her on this trip back is mia.

she’s currently listening to…..

[wh0reforcoriolanussnow]

“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.

[fratboyharrys-gf]

𝐒𝐢𝐜𝐤 | 𝐇.𝐒.

SUMMARY: YN has the flu and harry is determined to be there for her.

WORD COUNT: 751 || masterlist

WARNINGS: yn is sick, mentions throwing up, she takes painkillers

A/N: i wrote this in like 30 minutes 😭 i needed to get something out before my cousins visit because i won’t be able to post anything for a few days probably

i might make a pt 2 ! please reblog & comment <3 thank you sm!

join my taglist here!

YN rubbed her tired eyes and got up from her bed when she heard tapping on her bedroom window. she knew it was her best friend, harry.

they were on the phone when he noticed that she sounded off. he asked her what was wrong, and she brushed it off and told him that she just had a cough, but he didn’t believe her. he told her he was on his way, and before YN could stop him, he hung up.

YN unlocked her window and opened it, revealing harry standing in the tree that they used to climb all the time when they were younger, and the one that he still uses to this day to sneak into her room during times like this.

“you didn’t have to come.” she spoke weakly, stepping to the side so he could come in, “you’ll get sick.”

“i’ll be fine.” harry shrugged and closed the window, locking it as well.

“no you won’t. i feel horrible.” she laid back down in her bed and pinched her eyes shut as her head began pounding.

YN had been getting up and running to her bathroom at least once an hour to throw up, she’s been coughing nonstop, her nose is stuffy, and she just feels absolutely terrible.

“harry, i’m serious. i’ve been throwing up for hours. you don’t want to risk getting whatever i have.”

“YN,” he began, his tone stern as he sat next to her on the bed, his feet hanging off the side while he took his shoes off. “i’m not leaving. if i get sick, which i probably won’t, i’ll be okay. i want to be here with you right now. i know you’d do the same if it were me. so stop being so stubborn and let me take care of you.”

she sighed and stayed silent, not having the energy to fight him on this much longer, until she heard the sound of a medicine bottle opening. she cracked an eye open, and saw harry pouring two pills into his hand.

“you got me medicine?”

“mhm.” he handed her the pills and opened a water bottle for her.

YN took the pills from him, popped them into her mouth, and downed the water. “thank you.” she muttered, her voice weak.

harry sat next to her on the bed, his eyes fixed on her. “you look awful,” he said, his tone both concerned and teasing.

“i feel awful.” she replied.

harry chuckled softly and brushed some of her hair away from her forehead. “you have always been a terrible liar, you know that, right?” he teased, referring to when she told him that she only had a cough.

YN grumbled in response, not having the strength to come up with a comeback. she could feel the medicine starting to kick in, her headache beginning to subside.

harry scooted closer to her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close to his side.

she leaned into him, appreciating the comfort his presence brought.

“you didn’t have to come.” she mumbled, knowing there was no point in arguing anymore.

“you already said that.” he said quietly, his fingers tracing light patterns on her arm.

YN closed her eyes, feeling exhaustion take over her body as the medicine continued to relieve her headache.

“you should sleep,” harry told her, his grip on her shoulder tightening slightly.

“mhm,” she hummed in agreement, her eyelids feeling heavier with each passing second.

harry pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, his lips lingering on her skin for a few moments. “get some rest,” he whispered, his fingers combing through her hair.

YN mumbled something incoherent in response, already beginning to doze off.

harry smiled to himself, watching as she drifted further into sleep. he shifted his position, settling back further against her headboard as he got comfortable.

he sat silently next to her and stared at the ceiling, listening to her soft breathing as she slept. he could feel her warm body pressed up against him, the rise and fall of her chest, the faintest movement of her fingers on his leg. all of these things reminded him how much he cared for her. how much he loved her.

harry looked back down at YN, still asleep. he leaned down and placed another soft kiss on her forehead, savoring the feeling of her skin against his lips. he then positioned himself more comfortably, closed his eyes, and began to drift off to sleep himself.

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

[dovesdreaming]

Silent longing

(Close to you)

Summary: inspired by the song close to you by Gracie abrams. Hazel is your best friend and you long for her in silence until tonight.

Request

Masterlist

Warnings: none

-

Hazel Callahan always had this magnetic energy about her. To the outside world, she was the master planner, the one who always knew what to say to get everyone on board with her wild ideas. But to you, she was so much more than that. She was your best friend, the person who understood you without needing any words at all. And maybe that’s why it hurt so much to be this close and yet feel so far away. Tonight was no different. The two of you were sitting on Hazel’s bed, half heartedly flipping through an old yearbook she had pulled from the depths of her closet. A playlist hummed softly in the background, the dim lighting making everything feel softer, more intimate. Hazel’s room was filled with little pieces of her, a collage of messy Polaroids on the wall, a half-finished painting leaning against the desk, and stacks of books she would probably never get around to reading. You loved it all. You loved her.

As you sat there, you couldn’t help but steal glances at Hazel, taking in the way her nose scrunched up when she found an embarrassing photo or how her laughter filled the room with warmth. You’d known Hazel forever, and in that time, your feelings for her had only grown, quietly and insistently. You tried to be content with what you had. Late-night hangouts, inside jokes, and moments like these that made your heart ache in the best way. But it was hard when every small touch, every lingering look, left you wanting more. Hazel nudged your shoulder playfully, her voice snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Hey, you’re zoning out on me” she teased, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Where’d you go?”. You forced a smile, trying to play it cool. “Nowhere, just thinking” you replied, hoping she wouldn’t press any further. Hazel set the yearbook aside, shifting closer until your knees were touching. She studied you, her expression softening into something that made your heart skip a beat. “You’ve been kind of quiet lately. Are you okay?”. You shrugged, struggling to find the right words. How could you explain that being around her was both the best and most painful thing in the world? That every time she smiled at you, it felt like both a promise and a reminder of what you couldn’t have?

“It’s nothing” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper. But Hazel didn’t buy it. She never did. “Liar” she said gently, bumping her shoulder against yours. “Come on, you can talk to me. It’s me”. That was the problem, wasn’t it? It was Hazel. And you wanted to be close to her in a way that you were afraid to admit, even to yourself.

A familiar song started playing softly in the background and you swallowed hard, feeling the lyrics settle deep into your chest. Hazel didn’t notice at first, too busy watching you, but when she heard the familiar melody, she grinned.

‘You saw me look at you

I burn for you’

“I love this song” she said, her voice tinged with a quiet kind of nostalgia. “It’s one of those that makes you feel… everything, you know?”. You nodded, feeling a lump form in your throat. The words felt too close to home, almost as if they were written for moments like this, for all the things you wanted to say but couldn’t.

‘If you asked me to

I’d give up everything

To be close to you’

Hazel reached out, her fingers brushing against yours in a soft, tentative touch. It was nothing new, she was always tactile, always finding ways to connect but tonight, it felt different. More charged, you were burning for her touch. “You can talk to me” she repeated, her voice softer this time, almost pleading. “Whatever it is, you don’t have to keep it inside”.

‘I wanna be close to you

Break my heart and start a fire

You got me overnight

Just let me be..’

The dam broke before you could stop it. “It’s you, Hazel” you blurted out, your voice cracking. “I’m always thinking about you”. Hazel’s eyes widened slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing her face. For a moment, you thought you’d ruined everything, that you’d crossed a line you couldn’t uncross. But then she smiled a slow, understanding smile that sent warmth flooding through you. “Is that so bad?” Hazel asked, her tone light but her eyes searching yours deeply. “Thinking about me?”. “It is when I want more than just thinking” you confessed, feeling your cheeks burn. “When I’m sitting here wishing I could just… be close to you in a way that matters”.

Hazel was quiet, and you braced yourself for rejection. But then she leaned in, closing the distance between you with a gentleness that made your heart feel like it was going to burst. She rested her forehead against yours, her breath mingling with yours in the small space between. “You already matter to me” Hazel whispered, her voice barely audible but so full of sincerity that it made your head spin. “More than you know”. Before you could say anything, Hazel’s lips were on yours. Soft, hesitant, but so full of all the things you’d been too afraid to hope for. It wasn’t perfect or practiced, but it was real, and it was Hazel. She pulled away just enough to look at you, her hand still cupping your cheek. “Being close to you… it’s all I’ve ever wanted” she admitted, her thumb brushing against your skin. “So if you’re thinking about me, just know I’m thinking about you, too. All the time”. You smiled, a genuine, unguarded smile that you hadn’t felt in a long time. With Hazel, you felt safe like maybe, just maybe, being close to her was exactly where you were meant to be.

-

Thank you for reading!!

[theartofcollapse]

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. ♡

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