#wrap around fireplace mantel

[cathtatedaily]

Living Room - Modern Living Room

Inspiration for a sizable modern formal and open concept living room remodel with gray walls, a stone fireplace, a standard fireplace, and a coffered ceiling.

[pierreguilhem]

Dining Room - Beach Style Dining Room Great room - large coastal light wood floor great room idea with a standard fireplace, a stone fireplace and beige walls

[cerberus-and-sadism]

Oklahoma City Family Room Game Room Inspiration for a small, modern, enclosed game room renovation with a dark wood floor, gray walls, and a typical fireplace

[mindyharington]

Game Room Oklahoma City Picture of a small, enclosed game room with a dark wood floor, gray walls, and a typical fireplace.

[screenandscripts]

Game Room - Modern Family Room Example of a small, enclosed, minimalist game room with a dark wood floor, gray walls, and a traditional fireplace.

[catbui]

Eclectic Living Room - Loft-Style

[ruhele]

Oklahoma City Modern Family Room

[rinaedin]

Modern Family Room (Oklahoma City)

[0oolookitsme]

But Baby, It's Cold Outside

Type - One-Shoty Blurb!

Verse - Singer!Harry x Ceo!Y/n

Word Count - 1.2k

Warnings - None, just some tooth rotting fluff ;)

A/N - Y/n blushes so hard in this one I was legit smiling while writing the ending lmao. Hope you guys like it just as much! <3

MASTERLIST | Please rb to share!

Y/n was on her knees on the carpeted floor, her hands stacking things up on the Christmas mantel that she had been set on decorating since she'd opened her eyes this morning. Her knees hurt because of the hardwood floor, but it was better than having to bend down while standing up, nevertheless.

They were surprisingly late to decorate for Christmas this year because of their prolonged stay over at Anne's for a while. After all, Anne wanted the see her daughter-in-law who was pregnant with her grandson or granddaughter -- and Y/n was starting to feel more and more deprived of a mother's love by each day, making Harry take her to Anne.

She had put Harry to work currently with fluffing up the Christmas tree's leaves, and to decorate it with the string lights they'd bought just the day before. He was crouching just about beside her, facing her with the tall tree standing between them.

"I swear, this tree has got me working the hardest I ever have," Harry joked, wiping the sheen layer of sweat on his face. He chuckled when Y/n shook her head, laughing at him and not at his joke -- but he didn't need to know that. "So dramatic," he heard her murmur under her breath, knowing that she meant for him to hear it.

"I'm the one who's dramatic?" He questioned her with a touch of accusation to it. "You're the one who's been up my arse this whole month with 'let's do this, let's do that'!" Mimicking her, Harry smacked his hand on the tree and hissed in pain when a thorn pricked his finger.

A smirk appeared on Y/n's face as she continued to mess with the order of stuff she'd stacked up on the mantel. Shrugging, she said, "that's what you get for teasing me."

Herry scoffed instead of saying anything and went back to fluffing up the tallest bit of the tree. His armpits were moist with his sweat but he wouldn't even dare to think about putting out the crackling-fire in the fireplace. He might be a naturally warm body, but Y/n definitely wasn't.

Whether it was summer, or winter -- her body was never found to be hot. Hell, even when she took off her fuzzy socks last night her feet were freezing cold. And, with the baby growing in her body, Harry wouldn't even let Y/n remove the thin blanket he had wrapped around her frame when he woke up at the first ray of sunshine and realized that it had started snowing.

"H? Will you please bring me those mini-Christmas trees?" Y/n asked him, turning to give him some puppy-eyes but caught him watching the snowflakes on the windowpane instead. Tilting her head and joining him in looking outside, her lips stretched in a smile.

The snow fell soundlessly, drifting down like white and fluffy cold crystals. It brought an essence of magic in the world, falling softly into blankets that cover the landscape. 

"...'course," she heard him mumble, and turned just in time to catch the smile he passed her with a glint in his eyes that she'd come to recognize as admiration. Though she wasn't sure if what he was admiring then was the snow, her, or the 7-month baby bump.

In the time that Harry went to pick up the set of trees from the kitchen island, Y/n dropped the blanket from her shoulders, feeling too hot suddenly. The room had grown too warm for her current liking, and as she sat down cross-legged on the floor to give her knees some rest, she wished for Harry to be back by her side.

She slipped back on her bottom until her aching back hit the leg of the sofa and rested there. Patting the spot next to her, she invited Harry to sit beside her and whined internally when he passed her a knowing look and brought back the blanket with him. "Open the window if you're going to make me wear that blanket again," she told him pointedly, passing him a smile to tell him she didn't mean that behaviour seriously.

"But baby," Harry looked at her with a desperate look on his face. "It's cold outside!" he told her, wanting to open the window himself but he simply denied to because he couldn't have Y/n catch a cold. He sat down, spreading his legs and crossing them at the ankles.

He draped the blanket over both of their legs, making sure her bump is also covered. Leaning in, he pressed his lips on her pouted ones, smiling in the midst when she wouldn't back away.

Y/n reached for one of the kid's books that she'd been reading to learn some stories she could tell her little bundle of love when they were old enough to whine to her for just one more story. With some trouble, she caught the book on the sofa behind her and opened it, keeping it tilted just in case Harry wanted to join her.

But Harry was rather busy idly playing with her free hand, and as she continued to read, she felt him raise her hand up and press a kiss into her palm. Her cheeks, that were already rosy because of the cold, had now turned a shade of raging red and Harry couldn't help but cackle at that.

Y/n slapped his arm, an embarrassed smile dressed on her lips. "Stop it," she hissed, unable from removing the bashful smile on her mouth when Harry kisses the back of her hand the other time around. She turned her face away so that he couldn't see the cherry-red tint on her face, her mouth trembling because of the shy-giggle she was working hard to keep in.

Harry loved seeing the smallest gestures affect her in ways that she couldn't even control. Sputters of laughter kept falling from his mouth and when she didn't turn to face him after some while, he couldn't help but grab her chin and make her look at him.

Although she had shut her eyes tightly, the apple of her cheeks still suffused with a shade of pink that he decided was his favourite from now on. "C'mon!" He laughed when she wouldn't open her eyes.

He had only started getting such exquisite reactions out of her since he put a baby in her, and God, he would put another one in there if she would keep making him lose his mind like this.

Suddenly, a yelp flew out of his mouth, and he flinched away when she pressed her icy foot flat on his calf.

"Oh my god," he laughed with a surprised expression on his feet. "Baby, how the fuck are you so cold, still?" He shouted with laughter, his heart bursting with love when she started laughing profusely with her head thrown back. He, somewhere in the midst of it all, had stopped laughing, gazing at her instead.

But when Y/n didn't hear him laughing along with her, she opened her eyes only to find him looking at her as if she'd had hung stars in the room for him; and Harry swore her eyes were genuinely glittering and shimmering with something he was sure the poets would call love.

[a-court-of-fics-and-errors]

Keep Moving Forwards, Part 5

Azriel x Reader Fic

Summary: After finally deciding to leave your abusive and manipulative mate for good, you find unexpected companionship with Azriel, the Shadowsinger of the Night Court. As you navigate the aftermath of your traumatic relationship, you struggle to understand where the mating bond went wrong and contemplate your path forward, vowing never to return to the past.

Find other parts here: Master List

Content Warning: This story contains depictions of extreme emotional manipulation and abuse, mentions of physical abuse, loss of a child, and general trauma.

Word Count: 4.0K

Author's Note:

This is the first part of what I anticipate will be a multi-part series. Unlike my previous works, this fanfiction delves deeper than just fluff, exploring complex emotional landscapes. As I navigate this new writing journey, I kindly ask for gentle feedback. The topics addressed are profoundly impactful, touching many lives with diverse experiences. Please be gentle with yourselves and others. Healing is a journey, and everyone processes it differently. Be kind to yourself. Take what resonates, and leave what doesn’t.

Please continue reading, being aware of the above content warnings, ensuring you are in a healthy headspace. Give yourself time to process and be gentle with yourself.

That night, you barely slept. Each time you moved, it felt like a searing poker stabbed through your midsection, and even the smallest movements caused pain somewhere in your body. Instead, you slept in short bursts, and during the wakeful moments, you stared at the ceiling, making out the carvings in the beams above you, stars, mountains, maps, animals. Seemingly all scratched delicately into the ceiling beams above you.

The night’s shadows slowly gave way to the morning sunlight as it drifted across the floor, over the furs on your bed, and crested your face. From outside the window, you heard the chatter of men’s voices and laughter, though you couldn’t make out any distinct conversations. As the morning waned, you heard the more frequent sound of metal on metal—sword fighting, you assumed—glancing at the swords propped onto the fireplace mantel. Grunts, groans, and occasional raucous laughter drifted through the window, along with the smell of cooked food, which made your stomach growl angrily. You allowed yourself to shut your eyes for a while, the warmth of the sun warming your cheeks. Then you heard a light rap on the door. 

You opened your eyes, turning to the door to hear a small voice call out, “Can I come in?” When you didn’t respond, it called out again, “I have your breakfast.” 

Without waiting for a response, the door opened slightly, and a woman poked her head through the door. At first, you noticed her hair, pulled into a bun on the back of her head, with a piece of orange scrap fabric tied around her hairline to pull it back from her face. Then you realized what her face looked like. She had the same tanned, olive skin tone as Azriel, but her face was more scar than skin. Her right eye, which had a turquoise hue, was surrounded by pink scar tissue, looking like a mixture of a burn and a slash, extending almost completely down the right side of her face and branching out to her nose and lips. The left side of her face, while also scarred, was not nearly as jarring as the right. She flashed you a small smile before entering the room. She pushed the door closed behind her with her foot as you took in the rest of her form. 

Like Azriel, she had large bat wings, but they had cuts and scars like her face, and in a few areas, it looked as though there were holes in the membrane between the bones. She wore a dark brown tunic with a tie at the waist that covered most of her up to her neck. Her arms were wrapped in cotton bandages with brown and red stains from wear. You couldn’t tell if she was wounded or if she wore the bandages for warmth, as the sleeves of her tunic were ratty and tattered. She wore a pair of oversized lighter brown pants, tucked into short boots with holes, patched with pieces of fabric. All in all, she looked like she had walked through a battlefield before coming in. When you saw the container of berries sitting atop what looked like a bowl of steaming oatmeal, you disregarded her appearance, your mouth salivating at the sight of the delicious red and blue juices already seeping in. 

The female didn’t look at you, only seeming to stare down at the bowls in her hand as she approached. Deep within her eyes was something long lost, and though you couldn’t place what it was, you knew that your eyes also held the same longing. When she reached your bedside, the distinct smell of an unbathed body hit you, and the dirt caked under her fingernails made you question the care you’d received. Your trust in Azriel waned slightly.

She ran her thumb over the lip of the bowl, sucking her own pale, chapped, and peeling lip into her teeth before speaking, barely over a whisper. “Azriel asked me to bring this to you.” 

She offered the bowl towards you, and through a wince, you raised your hands to take it. “Thank you,” you rasped.

The female turned her mouth up slightly, still looking towards the floor as she rested the bowl on the side of the bed. She brought her hands back to clasp in front of her, idly picking at a scab on the back of her hand that looked reddened and angry. She opened her mouth to speak and then paused, her eyes scanning the floor. “I’m supposed to look at your ribs,” she said.

Silence fell heavily in the room. “Alright,” you finally said.

More silence. “I can leave, let you have breakfast, and then come back.” She looked at you, still not meeting your eyes. Without saying anything, she turned to walk out, but you called out, telling her to stop.

“Would you—” you started. “Would you mind staying?”

The female turned to look over her shoulder, still casting her gaze downward. “Yes,” she whispered. She returned to the bedside, standing over you, hands fidgeting as she continued scratching at her already open wounds. You pulled the breakfast onto your stomach, shifting slightly, which caused a sharp pain to shoot through you. Your wincing made the female shy away slightly, as though your pain was her own. You brought one of the fresh berries to your mouth, the sweet juices already staining your fingers pink. As you let it settle on your tongue, the sourness made the back of your mouth tighten and salivate. Crushing the berry against the roof of your mouth, an explosion of sweetness coated your taste buds, and you momentarily forgot your predicament. You let your stained hand drop to the bed in berry-ridden ecstasy before turning to the female next to you. “Would you like one?” you offered, holding the bowl of berries out to her.

The female looked at the offer, her tongue slightly parting her lips as she debated. She quickly shook her head no, returning her gaze to the floor.

“Are you sure?” you asked again. “There’s no way I can eat all of these.” The female still didn’t respond. “And I would hate for them to go to waste,” you continued.

She raised her head slightly, scanning your face for any underlying meaning or trickery. When she found none, she tentatively reached out and plucked the smallest berry from your bowl, quickly bringing it to her mouth. You smiled. “Have another,” you offered, throwing another berry into your own mouth.

“That’s okay,” the female said, gesturing a thankful refusal.

You chewed the berry. “Then at least sit,” you offered, using your head to gesture to the wooden stool near the wall.

Without responding, the female went and sat on the stool, without moving it towards you. “You can pull it closer,” you offered.

Eyes widening at the request, she stared ahead before gulping, standing quickly, grabbing the chair, and bringing it over to sit next to you, her eyes firmly planted on the mattress. You continued to eat, looking her over. She seemed young, around your age, maybe a few years younger, and skinny. Her cheekbones were prominent even with the scar, and her eyes were shadowed and slightly sunken. Her hands, covered in tiny nicks and scabs, were merely bone with skin clinging to them. You wondered if the rest of her body was as emaciated. You offered the bowl to her again, and she refused.

Resigning yourself to her refusal, you finally said, “I’m Y/N.”

The female paused slightly, then peered at you under her brows, head bowed. “Anthea,” she returned, barely over a whisper.

“It’s nice to meet you, Anthea.” The female merely nodded as you handed her the bowl of berries and oatmeal. “Would you mind putting this on the table?”

Anthea took the bowl and placed it on the table before returning her clasped hands to her lap. You waited, thinking she might say something, but after about a minute of silence, you realized you two might spend the entire day just staring at each other.

“How can I best lay for you to look at me?” you asked. For the first time, Anthea looked up, assessing your body.

“What hurts most?” she asked.

You laughed slightly. “What doesn’t?”

Anthea’s lips lightly raised at the corners, not quite a smile but hinting at one. “Azriel told me your left side is shattered. If you don’t mind, I think turning you on your right would be best.”

You nodded, gulping down the thought that even moving your arms caused pain, and rolling on your side might just kill you. Anthea rose from her stool, standing at the end of the bed while you winced and pushed yourself up slightly. “I can help if you’d like,” she offered.

“I think I’ll need it,” you responded.

Anthea carefully pulled back the blankets, exposing your bandaged torso to the cool air. She slid one hand gingerly under your left thigh, the other resting between your shoulder blades. “Breathe in deeply,” she instructed. As you did, she pressed lightly, pushing you upwards, sending pain shooting down your sides. “Now breathe out.” As you did, she rolled you onto your right side, legs turning first followed by your torso. You let out a wail, but Anthea didn’t seem to mind as she steadied you.

“Alright,” she cooed. You still breathed through the intense pain as she quickly ran around the bed, pulling your right arm out from under you and pressing a pillow to your chest. “I know it hurts, but it’s over now.”

You let out a few ragged breaths as she pushed your hair from your face, quickly pulling a ribbon from her pocket and tying it back with steady, calm hands.

She looked down the length of your body, examining what she could without moving you before saying, “I have to take the bandages down.” You nodded.

Without asking, Anthea pulled the sheet up from your side to cover the front half of your chest. She placed your left arm over it so it wouldn’t move, prioritizing modesty, which you appreciated. She set to work unwrapping the bandages from your midsection. While painful, she did it carefully, with tact and precision. If you winced, she stopped immediately and let you catch your breath. When she finally undid all the bandages, she readjusted the blanket, pulling a fur up your legs to cover your now exposed hips. Like a surgeon, she separated your wounds from the rest of your body.

“It looks better than it did,” she finally said.

You glanced down to see your entire ribcage and side an angry purple and red. Splotches of reddened skin pooled near the edges of the deep purple, and you could almost make out the lines of your ribs where the purple verged on black. “How bad was it before?” you asked.

Anthea looked at your face. “You could see the bones poking up at your skin.”

The image made you shudder as you turned your gaze forward.

“I’m going to press lightly on some of them to make sure they’re healing correctly,” Anthea warned. You nodded. She pressed her cold fingers onto your skin, and you jumped away at first, but she ran her fingers down the length of each bone. While the pressure caused discomfort, it wasn’t painful. “It seems like everything is fused again,” she noted, “and to the correct bone. It’s just bruised and swollen.”

Anthea began rewrapping your torso, taking care not to shake you. Neither of you spoke until she finished and helped you turn back onto your back. You gave her a soft smile. “Thank you,” you offered.

Her mouth turned up slightly, not quite a smile. “You’re welcome.” She went to the other side of the bed, grabbed the bowl, and made her way to leave.

“Anthea, wait.”

The female stopped and turned. “Yes?” she asked.

You paused, considering your request. “Can you stay? Just for a little.”

Anthea looked at the window, where the clashing of swords still took place, hesitating before looking back at your pleading eyes and nodding. She placed the bowl back on the table and sat on the stool. “Thank you,” you said.

Anthea just nodded.

“I just… I haven’t been around a female in a while, and it’s nice.”

Anthea looked at your face and then down at her hands, picking at the scabs. “I understand,” she finally said.

A silence hung between the two of you.

You swallowed, then asked, “Where are we?”

“Frostvale,” she responded.

“The river?”

“The camp.”

You hadn’t heard of any camps named after the river before, though you hadn’t been down here in a long time. “What sort of camp?”

“A training camp.”

“Training for who?” you asked.

Anthea looked up, seemingly confused. “Soldiers.”

You frowned. “Illyrian soldiers?”

Anthea nodded. “Yes, the soldiers of the Night Court.”

The name was familiar. You remembered hearing about the infamous Illyrian soldiers when you were a child in Velaris. But after your mother moved you to the woods to escape your father, your education had been limited to practical knowledge rather than history.

Anthea watched you, realizing you were trying to piece things together. “The Illyrians set up this camp about half a century ago to be closer to the coast.”

“Are there many camps?” you asked.

“Yes, though there are more since the Battle of Hybern.”

You decided not to ask about the battle, fearing it might worsen your headache. “Are all of you soldiers?”

Anthea shook her head. “No. Females aren’t soldiers here.”

“So what do you do?”

Anthea pulled her lip between her teeth, causing it to bleed slightly. “Laundry, cooking, cleaning,” she paused, “caring for the soldiers.”

“Are you a nurse?” you asked.

She shook her head. “No, I’m not a healer. We don’t have healers here.”

You considered her response, unsure what to ask next. “Do you all have wings?”

“Illyrians are born with them, yes.”

You wanted to ask about her tattered wings but decided it was too personal. “Who is Azriel?”

Anthea looked behind her, as if expecting him to appear. You couldn’t tell if it was fear or general distrust. “He is an Illyrian.”

“Is he a soldier?” you asked.

“Sort of.”

“What does that mean?”

Anthea hesitated. “He is trained as a soldier, but he isn’t here often. He just comes sometimes.”

“Does he work for another camp?”

“I don’t know.”

You gulped down some fear. “Is he safe?”

Anthea didn’t look up. “I don’t know.”

A weight settled on you as Anthea quickly stood, grabbing the bowl. “I have chores.” She turned to leave but paused at the door. “Thank you for the berries,” she said, then quickly shut the door behind her.

When she was finally gone, and you could no longer hear her footsteps, you relaxed slightly. With your ribs no longer broken, only swollen and bruised, you figured you’d be well enough to move in a few days. Given what you had seen of Anthea, who looked as though no one had ever cared for her, you had no intention of sticking around to find out whether Azriel was as safe as he seemed.

A few hours passed, and you found yourself dozing off and on, accompanied by the clanging of metal outside and the light crackling of the fire at the end of the bed. You ran your fingers along the handle of the knife you kept next to you, contemplating your next move.

When mid-afternoon came, you roused yourself from sleep to a gentle tapping at the door, followed by it opening. In the doorway stood Azriel, holding a tray, a light smile playing on his face. His wings were pulled tightly behind him. Instead of his usual attire, Azriel now wore what looked to be armored leather with intricate detailing of swirls, almost vine-like. His chest plate bore the same detailing, splattered with mud, suggesting he had been out with the others earlier. He wore black leather pants, also mud-covered, and appeared to have lost or taken off his weapon belt. Blue stones were embedded in his armor, perhaps signifying rank.

“Afternoon,” he said. “Thought I’d bring you some lunch, see how you’re faring.” He crossed the room and placed the tray on the side table.

You eyed the tray, the smell of roasted meat and vegetables making your mouth water. Azriel pulled the stool up to the side of the bed. “Anthea told me you’re healing up.”

You nodded slightly, your hand closing around the base of the knife hidden beneath the blankets.

“Good,” Azriel noted. A silence fell between you, as if he expected a verbal response. When you didn’t reply, he turned to the tray. “Here,” he said, picking it up and handing it to you, placing it on your legs. You had managed to hoist yourself up to lean against the headboard, clearly beginning to find your footing after your bones had healed.

On the tray was a piece of cooked meat with a dark berry sauce, alongside earthy vegetables and a grain mixture with herbs. Azriel rubbed his hands together before pointing at the various items. “This is grilled venison with a berry sauce. Anthea said you enjoyed the raspberries, so I added some of that. These are turnips, carrots, and sweet potato, all on top of a barley pilaf.” He pulled his hands back to his lap, rubbing his thighs slightly. “Please, eat.”

You hesitantly picked up the fork and took a bite. While the flavors were subtle and crude, the warmth of the meat and spices made the meal passable. “I’m sorry,” Azriel said, “I did the best I could with what the cooks had prepared for today.”

“You made this?” you asked, chewing.

“Well, I made the sauce and seasoned the meat a bit more. I can’t take full credit for the cooking.”

You smiled a bit, taking another bite. “Thank you.”

Azriel smiled back, pleased to see you eating. “No, it’s nothing.”

He didn’t leave, instead remaining perched on the stool. You didn’t say anything, continuing to eat.

“So, I think you should be healing up soon,” he finally said.

You nodded in agreement, taking a few sips of water.

“Has anything come back? Memories, I mean.”

You shook your head no. You had decided that even if they had, unless it had anything directly to do with him, you would keep those to yourself. While bringing you in, nursing you, and preparing special meals was kind, you knew too much of the world and the ways of males to easily trust their kindness.

Azriel nodded slightly. “I guess we’ll just keep an eye on you.”

You glanced at him from the side of your eyes.

“Anthea likes you,” he said.

“She’s sweet,” you replied.

Azriel smiled lightly. “Yeah.”

You considered speaking, wondering if this idle conversation was worth it, knowing you’d be gone in a few days. “Anthea said she’s a laundress.”

Azriel nodded. “Yeah, she does laundry and helps out around the camp.”

“A battle camp,” you said, wiping a bit of the sauce from the side of the plate and sucking it off your thumb.

Azriel watched intently. “A training camp.”

“Training for what?”

“Battle, I guess.”

You handed him the tray, and he placed it back on the table. “Are there battles to be fought?”

“Not at the moment.”

“Then why do you need a training camp?”

“In case there is a battle.”

You stopped asking questions, nodding slightly.

“Did you hit your head that hard?” Azriel asked.

“I haven’t been particularly involved in the affairs of the courts these past few years.”

Azriel frowned, confused. “What does that mean?”

“I’m not from around here.”

“Where are you from?”

“Not here.”

“I gathered that.” Azriel leaned back, dragging his hand through his black hair. “I mean, more specifically, where did you come from?”

You sucked your teeth slightly to pull a spare raspberry seed from between them. “The mountains.”

“The Illyrian mountains?”

“Yes.”

“You’re from the Illyrian mountains and don’t know about the training camps?” He sounded more like he was stating a fact than asking a question.

“Not all of us are so involved in your world.”

Azriel paused, leaning forward on his thighs. “I’m sorry. I just assumed if you were from the mountains, you would know about them.”

“Guess I never came across you or your kind.”

Azriel stared into your eyes, searching for answers. “I’m curious about you,” he finally said.

You said nothing in response.

“You’re a bit of an enigma.”

You still said nothing.

Azriel continued to stare, your cheeks reddening with the awkwardness. Finally, you spoke. “I guess I could say the same about you.”

“Ask me any questions you want,” he said.

You leered at him, crossing your arms and wincing slightly. “Who are you?”

“Azriel.”

“Yes, but who is Azriel?”

“I am an Illyrian.”

“Because of your wings.”

“Yes, wings are a trait of my people.”

“You’re a soldier?”

“I am trained to be a soldier, yes.”

“But you aren’t a soldier.”

“I hold no authority over the soldiers.”

“So you just like to come spend time here?”

“No, I was sent here.”

“By who?”

“Rhysand.”

You paused, recognizing the name. Azriel continued, “Rhysand, High Lord of the Night Court.”

Oh. That’s why you recognized it. You suddenly felt much more uncomfortable, realizing you were in the presence of someone with significant power.

“You are his...?”

“Spymaster.”

You deduced the implications. “And you come here often to spy?”

“I come here to report back on troop progress.”

“But you aren’t a soldier.”

“No, I am just trained as one.” He paused. “Do I get to ask you questions?” he asked.

“I can’t promise I’ll answer them all,” you replied after a moment.

“Of course.” He thought for a second. “Who are you?”

“I’m Y/N.”

“We’ve established that. You know that’s not what I mean.”

“I’m a fae female from the mountains.”

Azriel scanned your face, searching for something. “Why were you leaving?”

You stared back at him, a moment passed. “That’s not your business.”

Azriel looked into you, almost too deep into you, and suddenly you felt like you were drowning a bit. “Fair,” he responded.

You asked, “Who is Anthea?”

Azriel paused. “We’ve been over her.”

“No,” you started, “You know what I mean.”

Azriel leaned back again, looking skywards as though searching for the words. “Anthea is an Illyrian female,” he paused, “who is from a very traditional family.”

“Define traditional,” you pried.

Azriel paused again. “Illyrian women are not treated as equals to the males.”

You just stared into him.

“And Anthea is unfortunately serving the role of a very traditional female in an Illyrian society.”

You gulped down the anger and bile rising in your throat. “Unfortunately?”

Azriel peered into you again. “Yes,” he said. “Her life is not easy. Nor is it fair.”

You looked towards the fireplace.

“The night in the tavern,” Azriel started. You felt your heart beat pause. “You were screaming in your sleep.” You did not look at him. “You were saying the name Caelum.”

Your heart picked up speed, and before Azriel could continue, you pulled the knife from under the blanket, pointing it at him. “Get out.” You warned, your eyes hardened, blackening as you felt the bile rising higher in your throat.

Azriel threw his hands up. “I don’t mean to hurt you.”

“I don’t know what you intend,” you shot back. “Get. Out.”

Azriel nodded, standing. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think—”

Before he could finish, you pointed the knife towards the door. “Get out.”

Azriel’s face faltered for a moment, a look of disappointment and shame flashed across it before he turned and left the room. You didn’t drop the knife until your heart stopped feeling as though it would pound from your chest. Even then, you gripped it too close to the blade in your frenzy, and blood slowly ran down your wrist, dripping onto the fur beneath it. You would not utter that name. You would not speak it into existence.

As always, I want to take the time to thank the wonderful readers who have asked to tagged. You have made this such a fun series to write and I am so excited to continue on with it.

@thatacotargirl @mcuamerica @lilah-asteria @florabelll @fightmedraco @marvelbros-oneshots @mariahoedt @quinzzelx @romantasyreader28 @minnieoo @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @annabethgranger123 @krowiathemythologynerd @scatteredstardustt

[holylulusworld]

Snookums

Summary: Bucky is sad.

Pairing: Biker!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: a little angst, fluff, misunderstandings

A/N: A short drabble.

He’s angry. At the world. At himself. At the fact that you decided to celebrate your birthday with your family and without him. 

Bucky paces back and forth. He wonders why you decided that he’s not the kind of man you can introduce to your family.

“Fuck,” he curses and stops in his tracks. He looks at all the picture frames of you and Bucky on the fireplace mantel. “She thinks I’m not good enough. I knew she would realize that she could do better.”

He sighs again and shakes his head. Bucky got you all the nice gifts. He bought scented candles and your favorite flowers. Now you told him that you will go for lunch with your family. 

Bucky looks at the newest picture frame you placed on the fireplace mantel. You are sitting on his bike, smirking as he stands behind you, his arms wrapped around your middle. He grabs the frame, staring at the picture again.

He walks toward the couch, the picture frame in his hands. “Doll…” Bucky presses the frame to his heart and sniffs. He knew it was only a matter of time before you’d leave him.

Lost in self-doubts he doesn’t recognize you walk inside his living room.

“There you are,” you place one hand on your heart and sigh, relieved. “Fuck, you scared the shit out of me, Bucky.”

“Doll?” He looks up to meet your eyes. “What are you doing here?”

“Uh-I came here because you didn’t come to the restaurant. I feared you had an accident or something. We waited for you at the restaurant for over an hour.”

“Restaurant?” He slowly gets up from the couch. “But…you wanted to eat with your family. I wasn’t invited.”

“What?” You wrinkle your forehead. “Bucky, I told you about the restaurant and when we will meet. Why didn’t you come?”

“You didn’t invite me,” he sniffs. “I can’t crash a party.”

“Bucky,” your features soften seeing the doubts in his eyes. “You are my boyfriend. There is no need to invite you.”

He looks hurt at your words. “I get it…”

“No, you don’t get it, snookums,” you step toward your boyfriend to grab his hand. “You are always invited because you are my boyfriend. If I say I want to have lunch with my family, this includes you, Bucky.”

“Oh…OH,” he looks at your hand holding his. “I didn’t know.”

“Well, now you know,” you grin at Bucky. “My snookums is always invited.”

Bucky feels his heart flutter. It’s the first time he doubted your feelings for him, and he feared he’d lost you. “What do we do now? Your parents will believe I’m unreliable.”

“I told them that you got sick,” you smile up at Bucky. “We can have dinner with them next week. I want to spend the day with my man.”

“Yeah?” He mirrors your smile. 

“Yeah…”

Tags in reblog.

[slaymitchabernathy]

Our Little Secret

On a quiet Sunday night, Soarynn finds herself curled up with a good book. She told herself that she’d go to bed once she put the children to sleep but that was hours ago and she’s halfway through this book.

Normally, she’d be in bed with her husband by now. Wrapped up in his strong embrace while he whispers sweet words of devotion.

But Coriolanus isn’t home. Isn’t in the Capitol. He’s away on a business trip in District One and won’t be home until tomorrow morning which left Soarynn alone with three children over the weekend.

It’s been a long weekend.

Soarynn is glad that their children are so well behaved because she truly can’t imagine having to manage three children under the age of five without having some sort of mental breakdown. She also knows that Coriolanus would lecture them for a good two days should he hear of them giving their mother a hard time, but still, she’s ready to have her husband home.

She glances over at her loyal companion, Petunia, her fluffy white cat who’s sitting high and mighty on her husband’s pillow. Those two seem to have a knack for lighting each other’s fuses and Petunia has been basking in his absence. “Don’t get too used to it Petunia,” Soarynn tells the feline while reaching for her cup of tea, “he’ll be back in the morning.”

Petunia rolls onto her back in response and Soarynn shakes her head, smiling to herself, that cat will be the death of Coriolanus one of these days. It doesn’t help that the children adore Petunia, always taking her side.

Soarynn takes a few sips of her tea and glances around the bedroom, noticing little pieces that are missing since Coriolanus is gone. His favorite cologne, his glasses that he only wears when he absolutely has to, his watch. Soarynn didn’t realize she was missing half of herself until she met Coriolanus, and now that he’s gone, she wishes for nothing more than to have him back and be whole again.

Tomorrow morning, she reminds herself, I’ll get up before the children to make a big breakfast for everyone.

The Snows do have a cook and two maids who take care of the house, but Soarynn gave all three women the day off tomorrow. She simply wants to bask in the company of her family and she can manage the meals for one day.

She’s beginning to think about what to make for breakfast when the doors to the bedroom slowly open and Soarynn peers over the back of the sofa to see her youngest daughter, Celeste, holding onto the door handle.

Soarynn sits up straighter on the sofa, her book and tea long forgotten. “Celeste darling, why aren’t you in bed?”

This seems to be enough permission for Celeste to enter her parent’s bedroom because she pads inside, making sure to close the doors behind her before answering Soarynn. “I couldn’t sleep Mommy.” Soarynn sighs and looks over at the clock that sits atop the fireplace mantel, it’s nearly midnight.

“Why don’t you come sit with me for a bit and try to fall asleep,” Soarynn offers, knowing that Celeste always jumps at the opportunity to be in the forbidden domain that is her parents bedroom.

Not that the children aren’t allowed in their room, but Coriolanus has been very clear that unless it’s an absolute emergency, they should remain outside. He didn’t want to lose the one sacred space he shared with his wife, the space where he was guaranteed alone time with her. And Soarynn didn’t really see any reason to fight him on it.

Rarely do the children ever try to sneak into their room, once or twice has proven more than enough for them to decide that their parent’s bedroom is of no real interest to them.

Celeste nods and hurries over to the seating area where Soarynn is currently perched on the sofa and she climbs up by Soarynn’s feet, giggling when Soarynn wiggles her toes. “Did you have a bad dream?” Soarynn asks, suddenly worried that there might be more to her daughter’s story.

But Celeste shakes her head and settles herself on Soarynn’s lap, “No Mommy. I just…I can’t wait for Daddy to come home,” she whispers the last part and Soarynn brushes some stray curls from her face. Soarynn leans in as if also sharing a big secret, “I can’t wait for him to come home either. It’s been quite strange without him hasn’t it?”

Soarynn is more used to Coriolanus going away for business but this is the first time he’s left where all the children actually understand the concept of leaving for the Districts. They all miss Coriolanus, plain and simple. Except Petunia.

Celeste hums in agreement and her hands absentmindedly reach to grab the lace neckline of Soarynn’s pink nightgown. But Soarynn doesn’t stop her, she doesn’t mind the children reaching for her in times of need. She cherishes these moments at their young age for she knows that she’ll never get them again.

Celeste’s eyes meet her own and for a moment Soarynn truly can’t believe that she’s real. Her sweet, perfect daughter. “You look so pretty Mommy.” Soarynn pulls a face because she looks anything but pretty right now in her opinion with her hair loosely braided down her back and her face bare.

Celeste giggles and rests her hands on Soarynn’s shoulders, “You do! You do Mommy. You always look so pretty, Daddy says so all the time.”

Well now she’s blushing.

Soarynn tucks a stray hair behind her ear and shakes her head, “Your Father has a way with words I suppose. But I look like I’m ready for bed if I’m being quite honest with you. We’re the only ones still up.”

That fact seems to dawn on Celeste who looks around the dimly lit room before looking back at Soarynn, “Are we…are we safe here without Daddy protecting us?”

Soarynn’s face softens and she immediately wraps Celeste in a warm embrace, placing several kisses onto her head, “Of course we are darling. We’re perfectly safe here in the Capitol. Your Father wouldn’t want us to be anywhere but here.”

It’s true. Should some random stranger wish to instill harm on them, they’d have to make it past the doorman, then past the security guard in the lobby, then up the elevator, and then through the two large and heavy mahogany front doors.

A lot of work for a woman, three children, and a cat.

Celeste nods and rests her head on Soarynn’s chest, “I’m getting sleepy again Mommy.” Soarynn runs a loving hand over Celeste’s head and looks over at her bed, her big empty bed. She’s been so lonely these past few nights without Coriolanus. She feels a smile creep across her face as an idea forms in her head.

“Do you want to sleep with me tonight?”

Celeste gasps and looks up at her, so much excitement in her blue eyes, she looks just like Coriolanus.

“Can I?”

Soarynn nods, pressing a kiss to her forehead, “Daddy will never know if we’re awake before he gets home. It’ll be our little secret.”

Well, that seems to be as good an offer as any because Celeste is full of energy in seconds, helping Soarynn prepare the bed and fluff the pillows.

“I’m helping Mommy,” she tells Soarynn while patting a pillow. Soarynn smiles and pulls back the thick covers, “Yes you are darling, you’re being such a good helper.”

Celeste beams up at Soarynn and makes sure that all the pillows are fluffed to her liking, even the one that Petunia has claimed. “We’re having a sleepover Petunia,” Celeste says, “except, you can’t tell anyone ‘cause it’s a secret.”

Soarynn smiles at the sweet sight and goes to turn off the bedside lamp, “Get under the covers darling so Mommy can turn off all the lights.” Celeste does as she’s told and crawls under the covers, looking so small in the large bed.

Marrying a tall and broad man meant sleeping in an outrageously large bed but Soarynn has come to love it. And she always finds herself in his embrace every morning despite how much room the both of them have so it works out in the end.

Soarynn makes sure to blow out any candles and turn off any lamps before she joins Celeste and Petunia in bed, both of whom are staring at her with wide blue eyes. Soarynn wishes she could take a picture of this sweet moment. “Let’s all have sweet dreams,” Soarynn whispers, pulling Celeste close to her.

Celeste curls up to her and rests her head on Soarynn’s chest, letting out a content sigh. “Sweet dreams Mommy.”

Soarynn stokes her head for a while, watching Celeste’s eyes grow heavier and heavier before she decides to sing the children’s favorite lullaby.

Deep in the meadow, under the willow, A bed of grass, a soft green pillow, Lay down your head, and close you eyes, And when they open the sun will rise, Here it’s safe, here it’s warm, Here the daisies guard you from every harm, Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true, Here is the place where I love you.

꧁ ꧂

All Soarynn notices in the depths of her sleep is the smell of the lemon scented shampoo in Celeste’s hair. Which means that her daughter did not escape her grasp in the middle of the night.

She knows that she should wake up soon, get out of bed and start preparing breakfast, but five more minutes couldn’t hurt. Right?

꧁ ꧂

Soarynn must be dreaming because she swears she can feel her husband’s lips on her neck.

Which is impossible because that would mean that Coriolanus is back home.

Soarynn softly groans and shifts in her sleep, but the sensation of someone’s lips are persistent. Then she hears it. Hears his deep, throaty chuckle that she’s become so accustomed to hearing in the morning.

“I see I’ve been replaced by another blonde with curly hair and blue eyes.”

Soarynn’s eyes shoot open and she looks over her shoulder to find Coriolanus sitting on the edge of the bed, staring down at her with a fond look on his eyes. “You’re back,” she whispers, still somewhat dazed from her sleep.

Coriolanus nods and glances at Celeste, “And I’ve lost my side of the bed it seems.”

Soarynn slowly and carefully detaches herself from Celeste who thankfully, can sleep through about anything. She doesn’t wait a moment to crawl into his arms and sit herself on his lap, burying her face in his shoulder. Coriolanus lets out a groan and wraps his arms around her frame, squeezing her as if he might never let go again. Soarynn could live with that.

“I missed you so much,” she whispers into his suit jacket. He’s still dressed from his travels on the train. Coriolanus pulls away and gently holds her face in his hands, studying her face to see if anything has changed over the past few days, “I’ve missed you too my love. These three days have been sheer torture having to be away from you and the children.”

Soarynn looks over her shoulder at Celeste who’s still curled up in bed, Petunia now sitting by her while glaring up at Coriolanus. He chuckles and shakes his head, “I see my presence has not been missed by everyone in this household.”

Soarynn presses her lips to his which is more than enough to silence any further agitation between him and the cat. Coriolanus responds eagerly and if it weren’t for the sleeping child next to them, she’s sure that he’d take her right here if he could. But there’s little ones near by and Coriolanus isn’t the type of man to be too handsy in front of his children.

Just another reason as to why he’s such a good husband.

Soarynn pulls away breathless and looks down at the foot of the bed, softly gasping when she sees the giant bouquet of roses sitting there for her. “Oh, they’re beautiful,” she whispers, “thank you darling.”

Coriolanus smiles and pecks her lips, “Anything for my darling girl. Now tell me, how did this happen exactly,” he nods towards Celeste who has never slept in any bed but her own until last night.

Soarynn has the decency to look somewhat guilty while she thinks about how to answer him. Coriolanus isn’t mad, he’s amused more than anything but Soarynn knows he’ll want some explanation as to why their child slept in their bed instead of their own.

Soarynn grins when she finally comes up with a substantial answer and she kisses his cheek.

“It’s our little secret.”

| tumblr oneshot/drabble |

[redheadspark]

Hi! Could I request a Benedict Bridgerton X reader where reader can’t sleep so he stays with her for the night? Just super fluff?

A/N - Awwww, I find this adorable! Thank you so much for this request, dear friend!

Midnight

Summary - Benedict knows when you're restless, so he helps.

Warnings - Just some cute fluff

You hated being restless. It was the worst, especially when you were trying to go to sleep.

Your mind was racing from one problem to the next problem, a never-ending cycle and list of problems that needed to be solved. You tried to close your eyes, but your mind was still racing. So you tried to pace, but you weren't getting tired. Reading didn't help, nor did tea.

The options you had were slipping out of your hand, and it was getting beyond annoying with all that was plaguing your mind.

You were simply sitting on your bed, head in your hands, and feeling exhausted but not exhausted enough to be tired and fall asleep. The tiredness was from your brain still running and running. Meetings that were needing your presence, charities that needed your approval, and family affairs that seemed far too much. You wished to cry, and perhaps you were since you felt some of the tears hit your nightgown sleeve and skin along your wrist.

"Hey....darling?"

Your head snapped up and looked at the door to your room, seeing it open slightly as Benedict was picking his head in and looking at you in concern. You blinked, looked at the clock on the fireplace mantel and you cringed. Midnight.

"You should be sleeping," Benedict said in worry as he slipped into your room, closing the door and moving without haste to you at the bed, "You had a long day..... darling what's making you cry?"

"I..." You paused, blinking and pushing the tears away with your fingers in haste. Benedict took your hands and started tending to them in a soothing fashion, "I didn't realize...I can't sleep. My mind is racing with so many things and I...I can't fall asleep,"

Benedict perhaps could read it on your face, he then shrugged off his jacket to let it fall to the floor before he unbuttoned a few of the buttons on his dress shirt. You stared at him in confusion while he then wrapped you in his arms and leaned back on the pillows of your bed.

You and Benedict were no traditional couple: you would share a bed since you were married and saw no reason for having separate rooms and different beds. He loved having you in his arms when he woke up in the morning or when he fell asleep at night, but he still had a separate room to go to if he was out too late at night from being at a social event or a male-only event. That night he was out with his brothers and some other male acquaintances, so he was going to go to his own room to not wake you when he got home.

"Benedict?" You asked as he got you in his arms. You could breathe in some of the scotch that he was drinking, also a small whiff of cigar and his own unique sweat that was mixed on his skin.

"I think you have had a lot on your plate lately, my dear." Benedict explained to you gently as he stroked some of your long hair with his fingers and had an arm wrapped around your waist "I know you said you could handle it all, and you have handled it beautifully. But perhaps we need a holiday. A proper holiday,"

"We can do that, this time of year with all of our engagements and commitments?" You asked him gently as you were still a bit worried about what you had to deal it. Benedict only sighed as he kissed your head lovingly.

"I'm sure a weekend away from all of that will be what we both need. And frankly, your well-being is more important to me than any simple charity," He explained thoroughly, you grinning from how determined he said it. Benedict would always place you first, especially your health and how you were feeling.

It wasn't that you were faint of heart, but you loved to tackle so many things at once and make things seem perfect. Benedict loved that drive in you, but he loved your kind heart more and he would hate to see it crack under pressure.

"So, where shall we go? You can pick where we go for our holiday," Benedict said to you, getting your mind off of some of the tasks that were haunting you. You and Benedict end up talking for another few minutes together, you picturing in your mind going to the countryside, amongst some of the new flowers that bloomed, and taking new books with you that you were meaning to read and finish.

Before you knew it, you were sleeping in Benedict's hold and your husband watched you with love and affection in his eyes.

The End

Spring Prompt Session

[mamaestapa]

Lover|| Joe Burrow x reader

•pairing: Joe Burrow x reader

•summary: Based off of “Lover” by Taylor Swift

•warnings: fluff, mentions of past relationships/break ups

We could leave the Christmas lights up ‘til January

And this is our place, we make the rules

And there’s a dazzling haze, a mysterious way about you dear

Have I known you 20 seconds or 20 years?

“Y/n,” Joe said your name followed by an amused chuckle, “These lights have been up since November.” He gestured to the Christmas lights hanging up around the cabinets in the kitchen, along with the same lights that were draped around the fireplace mantel in the living room.

Joe was right, those gaudy Christmas lights have been up since November. But this was your place, so you make the rules about how long they can stay up.

“So?” you said with a shrug, “I say we leave them up until January.”

“January?” Joe asked with raised eyebrows. You nodded, a playful smirk pulling at the corner of your mouth, “Yeah, you got a problem with that scrooge?” Joe just rolled his eyes at your teasing statement. You plopped down on the cream colored couch, watching in amusement as your fiancé plugged the lights into the outlet.

“There,” he sighed as he stood from his bent over position, “you happy?” You smiled, holding your arms out and making grabby hands at Joe, “Very. Now come cuddle me.” A small smile pulled at Joes lips as he made his way over to the couch you sat on. Your features looking mysterious, and your eyes dazzling from the bright, golden sunset peeking in through the windows. Joe say down on the couch next to you, immediately wrapping his arms around your frame and pulling you into his embrace. You hummed contently as Joe started to rub his hands over the delicate skin of your biceps and forearm.

In the 20 some years that you’ve known Joe, you’ve never been more content with him than you were in that moment: Listening to the crackling fire of the fireplace, while looking at the Christmas lights you’d have up in the apartment ‘til January.

Can I go where you go?

Can we always be this close forever and ever?

And ah, take me out, and take me home

You're my, my, my, my

Lover

You sat in Joe’s warm embrace on the couch, the two of you soaking in the moment of spending time together. The regular season is coming to an end soon, but the Bengals are without a doubt heading to the playoffs once again this year. With the teams success and determination of being Super bowl champs this year, Joe has been putting all of his focus onto the game and his team recently. Of course, he spends time with you when he can, but it’s not nearly as much as he would during the off-season or start of the regular season. You understand his lack of spending intimate time with you though, football is important to him—it’s important to you, too. You know in a matter of minutes Joe will pull away from you to go watch film, but for now, you’re cherishing the moment spent just laying in your fiancés arms.

You felt Joe begin to move underneath you, causing you to frown. You held onto his arms that were draped over the front of your body now. He started to move his arms away from your body, making you whine slightly from the loss of his touch, “Don’t get up. Film can wait.” Joe smiled, “I know it can, but-.” He continued to try and move you away from his embrace so he could get off the couch, but you stopped him once again.

“Just stay please? I wish I could be this close with you, forever, but I’ll settle for a couple more minutes.” You pleaded up at your fiancé. Joe smiled at your words, leaning back into the couch. You heard Joe’s stomach rumble before he could say anything, making the two of you laugh.

“As I was saying, I wasn’t going to watch film. I was going to get a snack, and you are coming with me.”

You sat up, letting Joe get up from the couch. He grabbed your hand and brought you into the kitchen, pulling a barstool out for you to sit and watch while your lover prepared his much needed snack.

We could let our friends crash in the living room

This is our place, we make the call

And I'm highly suspicious that everyone who sees you wants you

I've loved you three summers now, honey, but I want 'em all

Can I go where you go?

Can we always be this close forever and ever?

And ah, take me out, and take me home (forever and ever)

You're my, my, my, my

Lover

As Joe satisfied his hunger with a snack of crackers and cheese, you were texting back and forth with your college friends Claire and Britt. They were going to be in Cincinnati for a wedding, and they needed a place to stay.

“Joe,” you saying his name made him snap his head up in your direction. “Yeah baby?” You placed your phone down on the counter and gave Joe your full attention. “My friends Claire and Britt are going to be in town this weekend. They need a place to stay for a night or two, and I thought maybe they could stay with us. You met them, remember?”

Joe nodded, “Britt was the brunette with the bangs and bright red lipstick, right?“ You laughed, thinking of your friend’s signature look since 2016. “Yes,” you confirmed, “that’s Britt.” Joe threw his plate in the trash and wiped the cracker crumbs off the marble counter tops as he spoke. “They can crash in the living room.”

You and Joe were currently looking for houses just outside of Cincinnati. While you were house hunting, the two of you were living in a one bedroom apartment not far from Paycor. You had enough room for the two of you, but not any other guest. So anytime you had friends or family visiting, they had to crash in the living room.

“You sure? It’s your call.” You asked, making Joe nod. “Yeah. I don’t mind.” he raised an eyebrow, “You on the other hand seem unsure.”

You shrugged and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, “I don’t know. I love her, but sometimes Claire gets a little too vocal about how hot you are and how lucky I am to be the one that gets to go home to you every night. I’m just a little suspicious that she wants you.” Joe pushed himself off the counter and chuckled as he walked up to you and wrapped his muscular arms around your body. He rest his chin on the top of your head and gently rocked your body back and forth as you stayed sitting.

“Well I don’t want her.” He planted a sweet kiss to your right temple, “I want you. It doesn’t matter if everyone who sees me wants me, since I only want you.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle as you smiled at his reassuring words. Joe is your lover, not anyone else’s. You’ve loved Joe for three summers now, and luckily for you, you’ll get to love him for all the summers you have left together.

Ladies and gentlemen, will you please stand?

With every guitar string scar on my hand

I take this magnetic force of a man to be my lover

My heart's been borrowed and yours has been blue

All's well that ends well to end up with you

Swear to be overdramatic and true to my lover

And you'll save all your dirtiest jokes for me

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

You and Joe grew up together in the same neighborhood, with the two of you becoming best friends almost as soon as you met. Throughout your many years of friendship, you both experienced many things with each other that brought you even closer together and made your friendship even stronger. After going to prom together and walking with one another at graduation like you planned when you were only seven years old, you and Joe decided to attend Ohio State, together.

During your time at Ohio State, your friendship was the strongest it’s ever been. That was, until you and Joe found yourselves in your first real relationships. Joe was infatuated and absolutely in love with a sweet girl named Taylor, and you were in your own little world with a sophomore basketball player named Jason. You and Joe seemed happy in your relationships, but that was far from the truth.

You had feelings for Joe. There was something so magnetizing about him and who he was. You wanted to be more than just friends with him.

And you soon got your wish because Taylor broke Joe’s heart in the most brutal way possible. She cheated on him with one his best friends. You helped Joe through his heartbreak, helping your best friend realize that he too wanted to be more than just friends. Luckily for Joe, your heart was being borrowed by Jason. After your relationship with Jason came to an end, your relationship with Joe was able to flourish into what it is now.

You followed Joe to LSU and stuck by his side through the good and the bad. You swore to be true to him while he saved his dirtiest jokes just for you. You didn’t care where you were, as long as you needed up with Joe forever, you were happy. You were both happy.

Can I go where you go?

Can we always be this close forever and ever?

And ah, take me out, and take me home (forever and ever)

You're my, my, my, my

Oh, you're my, my, my, my

Darling, you're my, my, my, my

Lover

You texted your friends back, letting them know they could crash in your living room for the couple nights that they’re staying in Cincinnati. Joe grabbed your hand and pulled you off of the barstool, bringing you back into the living room. He plopped down on the couch and held his arms out to you, motioning for you to come lay with him.

“Come on Mrs. Burrow.”

“I’m not Mrs. Burrow.” You laughed, putting your hands on your hips. Joe smirked, “Yet,” he patted the cushion, “Come on. Don’t make me pull you down here.” You sauntered over to him, a playful smirk on your face. He grabbed your hands and pulled you down onto the couch with him, making you both laugh happily. You hovered over Joe as he cupped your face in his veiny hands, bringing his face inches from youre before placing a big smooch on your lips. You giggled at the contact of his lips on yours. The sweet sound of your laughter making Joe smile as his heart filled with joy. You kissed his lips once again, this time the kiss slow, sensual, and full of love and passion.

You wished to be this close with Joe forever. Luckily for you, your wishes would come true.

Because Joe Burrow was your lover—forever and ever.

hey loves!!

here is the first imagine for my taylor swift song imagine series! i hope you enjoyed it. lover is one of my favorite songs, and the album lover is also one of my favorites🩷

this imagine was a little meh, i apologize. only because i wasn’t sure how i wanted to write it! each imagine will be written differently. it’ll be based on the whole song (like this one was), based on just a lyric or chunk of lyrics, or just loosely based off of the song! i’ll be sure to do a variety :)

i also did not edit or proofread this, sorry in advance for any mistakes lol

i hope everyone is doing well! have a fantastic week loves. thank you for reading and continuing to support me and my writing, it means so much🤍🤍

tags: @burrowstyles5 @erinmartin1987 @wickedfun9 @bernelflo @stainednailpolishremover @msliz @caroline1019 @jordyn14 @alternativemadchen @m-1234 @ilovejoeburroww

(i don’t know why it won’t let me tag those three accounts, i’m so sorry!!)

[minniedaisies]

pastel snowflake kisses

— summary: they had never made much of a fuss about christmas...until you came into the picture

— pairing: bts x reader 

— genre: christmas au / fluff / poly! au

— word count:�� 2230

— warnings: none

“Why does it look like Santa’s Wonderland at the mall threw up all over the fucking living room?” Yoongi shrugged off his snow-dusted coat, hanging it on the rack by the door as he cautiously peered into the living room - now softly aglow in twinkling Christmas lights. A fire was going in the fireplace and there were stockings hung over the mantel. Yoongi didn’t even know you all had stockings.

“You’ll have to talk to Y/N about all that,” Taehyung grinned, carefully threading the ribbon of an ornament through a branch of the tree. 

“Y/N….” Yoongi’s tone was low and you peeked out from behind the Christmas tree with your best puppydog look - the one you knew damn well was his ultimate weakness.

“Don’t you like it, Yoon?” You asked, pushing your bottom lip out slightly in your best pout. Jiminie would be so proud.

Speaking of….

“Oh good! You’re back from the studio, just in time for cocoa and Christmas movies!” Jimin thrust a mug of steaming cocoa into Yoongi’s hand before he could protest. “Unless, you’re going to be a total Scrooge.”

Yoongi stuck his tongue out at Jimin, “I’m not being a total Scrooge, Min. It’s just…we’ve never done anything like this before. Hell, I didn’t even know the fireplace worked, much less that we had stockings and a tree hidden up somewhere.”

“I might have done a bit of shopping,” you admitted, coming around from the Christmas tree to stand before him, pout still working overtime. Jimin flashed you a quick wink, his approval of your level of pout. “Y-you aren’t mad, are you?”

Yoongi softened instantly. You could see him visibly thaw. “Oh baby…” Yoongi set his cocoa down on the coffee table, before pulling you into a hug, “Not mad at all, doll. Just wasn’t expecting it, is all. We’ve never done Christmas before.”

“Well that was before,” Seokjin said, coming up behind you to press a kiss to the back of your head while reaching around to ruffle Yoongi’s still snow-flecked hair. 

“I think it looks nice,” Taehyung said, hanging another ornament, “It’s about time we get into the Christmas spirit around here, don’t you think?”

“I picked out the tree,” Namjoon grinned, opening another box of ornaments.

“It looks great, Joon,” Yoongi smiled warmly to him, “Where’s, Sunshine and Koo?”

“Hope’s picking up takeaway for us,” you said, snuggling against Yoongi’s chest. He smelled of winter and something distinctly Yoongi - tobacco and leather and warmth. “And Jungkook’s probably still in the kitchen trying to eat the cookie batter.”

Yoongi ran a hand through your hair, looking down at you with such love in his eyes, such warmth. He booped your nose before releasing you and making his way over to the Christmas tree. “It is a pretty great tree, Joon.”

“So you aren’t mad we used your credit card to get it?” Jimin asked, sneaking up behind Yoongi and hooking his chin over his shoulder.

“Park Jimin….”

“He’s kidding,” Jin shook his head, flicking Jimin on the earlobe.

Jimin rolled his eyes, coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist, hugging you to him. “You did a great job, Y/N. It’s never looked better in here, truly.”

“It feels like a home,” Namjoon’s gaze caught Yoongi’s and they shared something silent between the two of them. 

You knew ever since they had first gotten together, before the rest of you had all joined this little family, that they’d struggled quite a bit. It both made your chest ache and warm at the thought of them finally having a proper Christmas, finally having a proper home together.

“It’s all Y/N,” Taehyung cooed, pinching your cheek, “I would never have even thought of the cinnamon candles if it weren’t for Y/N!”

“Why don’t you put the star on the top of the tree, Yoon,” Namjoon offered. 

Yoongi’s eyes widened briefly before you handed him the pretty gold star and Namjoon hoisted him up to reach the top of the tree with ease. You let the two of them have their moment before sneaking off into the kitchen to rescue the cookie batter from Jungkook. 

“Is there even any batter left for the cookies or is it all in your stomach?” You asked, catching him as he popped the wooden spoon into his mouth. Jungkook grinned around the mouthful of cookie batter.

“ ‘s delicious! Can’t help it! What do you put into these, Y/N?”

“A dash of almond extract,” You grabbed for the mixing bowl, moving at away from him, “You’re gonna get sick,” you scolded half-heartedly. 

Jungkook pouted, bottom lip jutting out even worse than yours and Jimin’s. “But if I do, you’ll take care of me right, princess? Nurse me back to health?”

“Absolutely not,” You peeked at the clock on the oven, grabbing for an oven mit. You swatted Jungkook on the hip with it before slipping it on and pulling out the previous batch of cookies. Jungkook reached his hand towards the baking sheet before you could even set it on the stove to cool. 

“You’re going to burn your hand! And your mouth! And no one is going to feel any sympathy for you if you do.”

The bottom lip slipped back out, doe-eyes wide.

You softened. “You can have one once it cools, baby. It’ll taste better then anyway.”

“Fine,” Jungkook folded his arms over his chest as you began to slide the cookies from the tray onto a cooling rack, “But if you’re going to deny me cookies, can I at least get a kiss in their place?”

Rolling your eyes, you sat the baking sheet down and indulged him. He tasted of almond and cinnamon and vanilla and sweetness.

“That better tide you over until these cool,” you tried to sound scolding, which was really rather hard to do after being kissed breathless by Jeon Jungkook.

“Alright you kids,” Jin stuck his head into the kitchen, “Hope is back with dinner and we’re ready to start the movie. Y/N you pick tonight. Any Christmas movie you want.”

Heading out to the living room, you saw your boyfriends getting snuggled into onto the couches and recliners, tucked into their plates of takeaway, snuggled against one another.

“Y/N!” Hobi waved you over, handing you your styrofoam plate, “I got you your favorite, extra honey walnut shrimp!”

“Thanks, Hope,” you pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“I want Y/N to sit with me,” Jungkook pouted from somewhere on the couch.

“No, you got to sit with Y/N last time,” Taehyung protested, “It’s my turn!”

“No, it’s mine!” Jimin argued.

“Babies!” Jin held up a hand, “Y/N isn’t going to sit with either of you if you argue over Y/N like a toy. Sit wherever you’d like, angel,” Jin sent you a soft smile and you melted under his attention and ability to get Jimin, Jungkook, and Taehyung to yield.

You glanced around the living room. Yoongi was already sitting on Namjoon’s lap while Namjoon spoon-fed him bites of broccoli beef in one of the recliners. Jin was making his way towards his favorite overly-stuffed chair and you knew Hobi would probably wind up in his lap too. The maknaes were staring at you with wide, puppy eyes. 

“I’m going to sit between Jimin and Tae,” you announced, while Jungkook visibly deflated. 

You walked over to him, cradling his face in your hands as you lifted his head, “But I’m sleeping in your bed tonight.”

Jungkook let out a happy sequel and you couldn’t help but laugh. You weren’t far off from happy-squealing yourself at the prospect of spending the night cuddled in his arms under his warm blankets.

“Good,” Jimin smirked, reaching for his beer on the coffee table as you sunk down on the couch between him and Tae. Tae instinctively snuggled closer to you. “You steal all the blankets anyway—eek!” You smirked, withdrawing your fingers from his side with a triumphant smile.

“Brat,” Jimin stuck his tongue out at you. “You’re lucky I’ve got a plate of food on my lap right now or else you’d definitely get it.”

“Alright kids,” Jin called over the ruckus, “Y/N, what movie would you like to watch?”

“Well, it just isn’t Christmas without It’s a Wonderful Life.”

“It’s a Wonderful Life, it is, then!” Namjoon reached around Yoongi to grab the remote off the arm of his chair, pulling up the movie. 

“Christmas movies, a fire going in the fireplace, an actual Christmas tree, cookies cooling, and cocoa waiting for us,” Hobi sunk down into Jin’s lap as you’d expected, “Y/N, you’re spoiling us here. Almost going to make refined gentlemen out of us.”

Taehyung reached around and gave Jimin a wet willie just for prosperity.

“Ack! Why am I getting bullied tonight, huh?” Jimin swatted at him. 

“Alright you two,” Yoongi shot them a look from his place on Namjoon’s lap, “Settle down and eat your dinner and watch the movie.”

“Hobi is right though,” Namjoon pressed his nose against Yoongi’s shoulder blade before continuing, “You really do take such good care of us, Y/N. The place looks amazing, and it finally has this warmth touch to it I just know is from you. You came into our lives and thawed out all our icey edges, angel. We’re so thankful to you for that.”

Your eyes watered and as if sensing, both Jimin and Taehyung cuddled up against you. Jimin pressing kisses to your cheek while Taehyung stroked your hair.

“It’s true,” Jin said. “You really do look after us all so well. We’re meant to be the ones looking after you, but you take care of us just as well if not more.”

“We take care of each other,” you corrected, “You are all deserving of a good and wonderful Christmas. And it’s not about the decorations or the fire or the cocoa and cookies. It’s about all of us just being together…sharing a moment like this together. I’d have been content to just spend Christmastime with you without a tree and ornaments if it meant just spending it with the seven of you by my side. But the tree, all of this…it’s something I can do to outwardly show you how much I love you and how much I want this Christmas to be special. It’s our first together.”

“The first of many,” Jimin said, letting a kiss wander slightly just to the corner of your mouth.

“The first of every from here on out,” Taehyung nodded.

“You’re like our Christmas angel, Y/N,” Jungkook said from his place on the floor. You bent down to press a kiss to the back of his head.

“And your my Christmas angels too,” you said.

“I think I’m a fairy this week, actually,” said Jimin.

“We’re such cheesballs, oh my god,” Taehyung jokingly cringed. 

“Does the fairy feel like hushing up so we can watch the damn movie?” Yoongi asked, pulling a teasing face to Jimin, the way he always did when he spoke harshly and needed Jimin to know he was being playful.

Jimin reached behind him for one of the throw pillows to toss at him, but you were quick to snatch it from his hand and set it carefully out of his reach.

“Sorry,” Jimin mumbled.

“It’s okay,” you pressed a kiss to his cheek.

That night, after a night of movies and cookies and cocoa and admiring the Christmas tree all twinkingly with soft lights in the darkness of the livingroom, you found yourself wrapped up in Jungkook’s arms in his oversized bed, cuddled under the warmth of almost a dozen blankets. Jungkook loved blankets. Almost as much as he loved his air purifiers and you.

“My tummy hurts, I think I ate too many Christmas cookies,” Jungkook grumbled.

“What did I tell you about sympathy, hmm?”

Jungkook propped up on his elbow, giving you a stink-eye, “Don’t be mean, Y/N. They were so yummy! Never had Christmas cookies that delicious before.”

You raised a brow, “Oh is that so? Best not let your mother hear you ever say that, Koo.”

Jungkook giggled, pressing closer next to you, “She’d think so too. She adores you, you know.”

“Does she?” You asked, holding your breath slightly. You always were so anxious about where you stood with their families. You never would forget the one day you cracked a joke and somehow made Yoongi’s dad laugh. Now, whenever Yoon would go home to visit, his dad would sneak him little gifts to give to you. 

“Mmhmm,” Jungkook nodded, “You’re a part of our family, Y/N. That goes for all of us and all our families. You belong here. It’s like Hobi-hyung said…you made this place feel more like home since you’ve been a part of us. Today just shows how much warmth you really bring to us. You really are our angel, Y/N. And not just a Christmas one at that.”

Your eyes grew misty and before you could try to think of something to say, Jungkook pulled you to his chest. You closed your eyes, breathing him in and letting yourself melt against him. It was going to be a wonderful Christmas this year. You pressed a kiss to Jungkook’s bare chest, just above his heart. 

It was going to be a wonderful life. 

[spinningwebsandtales]

Imagine Steven Grant Decorating The Christmas Tree With Your Daughter

Steven Grant X FemReader

Rating: G

Warnings: None it's all Christmas fluff

Word Count: 718

Requested by @the-marshals-wife

(A/N:) I still owe my friend some requests for all the amazing work she does for me. And while she didn't request this character I know he is one of her faves and I came up with the idea at work. She seemed more than happy with the results from my brain. It also helps that it's the season! So Merry Christmas everyone and enjoy this fluffy goodness! Until next time happy reading! ~Countess

The Christmas season had finally come and it was your favorite time of the year. The house always seemed cozy with the glittering lights and heater going. It made leaving into the nippy mornings even harder than usual. But your favorite part was the giggles of your little girl and the boisterous singing of your husband who thoroughly loved Christmas carols. You were busy decorating the fireplace with garland and stockings while Steven and your daughter took care of the tree. They had just finish shaping the artificial branches that had been smooshed together from it's time in storage and started untangling the lights. You hummed gently to yourself while taking quick glimpses of your two loves. Steven had just finished singing the exhausting carol of 12 Days of Christmas, his daughter clapping and singing while her dad ran out of breath, due to him holding the last note for an absurd amount of time. Steven quickly recovered and went straight into Deck the Halls.

You shook your head, focusing back on your single task. Before too long Steven got tired of not having the music playing and forgetting certain lyrics of the carols his little girl was requesting, so he switched on the radio, tuning it the local station who had begun playing Christmas music before Thanksgiving. You joined in and now there was an impromptu trio filling the house with song. Steven hummed along to Silent Night while he wrapped the tree in sparkling Christmas lights. Around and around he went, it was making you dizzy just watching him. Of course he had to act all dramatic and cause little squeals coming from their side of the living room. Steven was laughing until he got too dizzy from his rocking around the Christmas tree and fell down almost taking the whole tree with him. This time you laughed loudly and swooped in to save your husband.

"Only you would get dizzy putting lights on the tree," you teased while helping him to the couch.

Clamoring up on her father's lap, you patted your daughter's head while Steven kissed her rosy cheek. While Steven recovered you finished up the fireplace mantel and finished up the lights on the tree. By then Steven was ready to get back into the game. Walking hand in hand towards you it was time for ornaments. You remembered the years fondly of your daughter being so small that majority of the ornaments wound up on one side of the tree at the bottom. The radio had become background noise for a little bit while you and Steven walked down memory lane. You remember your first Christmas fondly with your then new husband and then you remembered that first Christmas with your baby girl. Now here she was the spitting image of her father and your fierce attitude.

Steven jolted, cocking his head to the radio he grinned broadly down at his little girl. She started jumping up and down excitedly as her dad ran to the radio and turned up the song playing. You laughed, shaking your head as their favorite Christmas song of all time begun to play.

I Want A Hippopotamus For Christmas flooding the house as both Steven and his mini me sung at the top of their lungs. Their silliness was contagious as you joined them in their singing and even the little dance they choregraphed on the fly. Though a short song all three of you wound up in a breathless pile on the floor. Like Steven before, you were a little dizzy from all the joyous spinning.

"I vote for no spinning next time," you panted.

"I second that vote," Steven agreed.

"Extra spinning," your little girl crowed.

It took a little long for you and Steven to recover as you both were content laying on the soft carpet until the room quit spinning. Steven slipped his hand into yours, giving it a gentle squeeze he shuffled closer to you. Your daughter had taken to spinning more around and around before she went back to placing ornaments on the tree. Steven kissed our cheek before he nuzzled into your hair.

"I love you," he mumbled.

You gave him a quick kiss on his chin, relishing in the scratch of his facial hair, "I love you too."