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dreamauri · 10 months

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Hey girl, if you have the time please could I get charles x fem. Maybe she’s going through a phase where she’s not sleeping very well and exhausted and the Ferrari boys literally find her passed out in the weirdest places 🏎️ thank you x

♪ — 𝗦𝗡𝗢𝗢𝗭 charles leclerc x fem! reader (fluff) “. . . You gain a reputation for your unusual sleeping habits as you travel.”

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Imagine the excitement of Formula 1 world, a chapter filled with adrenaline-fueled action and constant competition on the track. On the other hand. You, amidst the fast paced weekends, are snoozing around the track, catching Zzz.

Your playground is the Formula 1 paddock, and while others are engrossed in the chaos, you find comfort in the most unlikely of locations.

Being the cheeky pair that they are, Carlos and Charles decide to keep track of your peculiar sleeping locations and turn it into a game of "Where will we find you next?"

And taking it to the extent as your self proclaimed "best friend" ( he's crushing on you hard please take the hint ), Charles Leclerc has a designated Instagram highlight, just for you sleeping around in the weirdest places possible.

"Mate!" Carlos called, trying to hold in his laugh. Charles, who has been avidly searching for you for the past thirty minutes, is at loss for words when he sees you sleeping on a random table face down, top half hanging off.Charles looks away trying to hide his smile. "Oh, Mon Dieu." [my god]. "I have to take a picture." Carlos laughed, taking his phone out. In attempt to save you from any further embarrassment, Charles walked towards you, trying to nudge you awake. but to not avail. "I got this, I got this." Carlos ran up to them with an air horn. "Mate dont-" it was too late. Charles was not quick enough o stop Chili. They both watched you stumble and fall forward off the table in shock. "Whered you even get that." Charles looked up at Carlos sighing. You looked up at the two boys, with tired angry eyes. "Run." You said simply making the two Ferrari boys run away immediately, fear stricken in their eyes.

@charles_leclerc posted on his story

seen by landonorris carlossainz55 and 52M others

But it doesn't stop there. Throughout the season, your knack for finding peace in the most unconventional places becomes legendary. You're discovered snoozing in the engineering office, leaning against the SF23, or even draped over a folding chair in the media centre.

Each time, Charles manages to capture the moment, sharing it with his fans on social media, much to everyone's amusement.

As the paddock becomes your bedroom, Charles becomes your self-appointed sleep guardian. He's always on the lookout, ensuring you have a comfy blanket to enhance your slumber. It became his mission to create a haven for you amidst the chaotic world of racing, a place where you can find serenity.

"There you are." Charles mumbles as he finally found you, sleeping on piles and stacks of tires, like it was the most comfortable thing in the world. He disappeared for a second before coming back with a pillow from his drivers room.He crouched down beside you, gently cupping the back of your head and lifting you up to place the plush material under your head. A groan emitted from your mouth, making Charles freeze in panic. Last time he woke you up, it did not end well for him.Once he was sure you were back to sleep, he gently lowered your head onto the pillow, taking his rain jacket off and draping it over your body. "Rest well, Mon amour." He mumbled, wiping a few droplets of rain of your cheek.He was sitting beside you on the floor when you woke up, going through his phone. "Bonjour." [good morning] He hummed, his green coloured eyes crinkling with a smile when he looked at you. You let out a tired hum in acknowledgment, playing with a random string from the jacket. Charles held up a cup of your favourite drink, which he was waiting to give you since he found it. You looked up at him, only meeting eyes with his loving gaze.

"I found Miss Snooze!" Charles shouted over the radio, it was FP2 and you were passed out on a random chair beside a camera man. Like the gentle man he is, Charles went back to the garage, got you your favourite pillow and one of his Ferrari jackets ( he could've gotten you a blanket but he wanted you to have something from his, it made his heart flutter when you wore it ). Once he reached you, he parked his car and jumped out, jogging to your side and giving you the premium comfort you deserved. Giving the camera a thumbs up before jumping back in the car.Although he didn't have his phone to take a photo this time, the camera man made sure to capture the whole thing for him.

Charles' dream finally came true when he found himself taking a nap beside you on a pile of race suits. Carlos was the one to snap the photo, a picture to keep for the blooming relationship.

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gloomyclauds · 3 days

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100 Followers! It might not seem like a lot, but I'm so thankful for all the support I've been getting here 🤍

This sim has been sitting in my library for almost a year now, and while I was planning on using her for a new series on my youtube channel, I just don't see that happening any time soon. My work schedule is a lot, and it's rare that I get a day, where not only I'm feeling cheery to record, but where I also have enough time for it... Being an adult sucks, you literally stop having a life. All I do is work, sleep, eat, and dread the next day.

But maybe I can make the series here, as I just came back to tumblr, and it's easier to post screenshots. This is not for now though! I need at least half a generation done before I start posting 😅

Her outfits are very blue, because she's for a color coded legacy challenge that I made last year, but still haven't posted it. I wanted to share it whenever I started the series, but again, time. There's not enough time in this life. I won't share the Tray Files (I might at some point though)!

Keep Reading for the FULL CC LIST ⬇️

DEFAULTS Tinsel Skinblend | Teeth | Feet | No EA Lashes

PRESETS Lips | Chin

SLIDERS Eyebrows (1) (2) | Nose | Chin | Feet

EVERYDAY Earrings | Necklace | Outfit | Heels

ATHLETIC Hair | Hat + Logo | Sunglasses | Outfit | Sneakers

SLEEP Hair | Pajama | Slippers

PARTY Earrings | Dress | Platform Sandals -> Necklace from Crystal Collections

SWIMWEAR Bikini | Belly Chain

HOT WEATHER Earrings (Barona) | Sunglasses | Choker | Skirt | Heels -> Top from Urban Homage Kit

POSES 1st Image | 2nd and 3rd Image

A huge thanks to the cc creators!

@lamatisse @mousysims @okruee @glitchsyndrome @vibrantpixels

@pralinesims @northernsiberiawinds @mossylane @sammi-xox

@twisted-cat @rheallsim @simstrouble @arethabee @shsims

@lutessasims @ice-creamforbreakfast @magic-bot @miikocc

@obscurus-sims @poyopoyosim @crypticsim @joliebean @dream-girl

@aharris00britney @madlensims @joshseoh @nucrests

@huiernxoxo @jius-sims @kumikya @caio-cc @trillyke

@serenity-cc @aladdin-the-simmer @akalukery @ratboysims @helgatisha

#s4cc #thesims4 #sims4cc #s4ccfinds #sims4ccfinds #ts4 lookbook #s4 lookbook #wcif

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iloveavatar · 1 year

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idek what i’m doing but i’m hoping it turns out ok!

neteyam x reader!!

there are many things about neteyam that drive you absolutely insane. how gorgeous his eyes look when the sun hits them just right. how when he flies around with this certain type of authority, it makes him look older. how he can look so gorgeous while doing the simplest thing…

what really bothers you is how he is always getting himself in trouble or hurt to save lo’aks ass.

the last time you saw him injured was when he got into a fight with another na’vi by the name of Zuk’tay. Rumor had it that Zuk’tay was picking on lo’ak due to his alien hands.

neteyam heard of the rumor, and next thing you know the boy is shuffling his way to you with his head down, avoiding all eye contact with a split lip adorning his face.

being neteyams oldest friend since he was 3, you were the first one he always came to whenever he got injured. he was always nervous to see his father in fear of disappointing him. his mother terrified him whenever she threatened to pluck his eyeballs out...

“neteyam…” you sighed, “we talked about this!”

“i know, i know and i’m sorry. but i couldn’t let lo’ak get in trouble again. he’s already on his second warning” he explained. he still avoided eye contact with you.

you sighed and stood up. you slowly walked over to neteyam and lifted up your hand. you gently grasped his jaw and guided his face to the point where his yellow eyes met yours.

“i know how much you hate seeing your brother get in trouble. but you also know how much i hate seeing you in trouble.” you softly spoke “all i want, is for you to be more careful.. please?”

he kept his gaze on your eyes as you pleaded. he’s never realized how beautiful you looked while you scold him. he didn’t even know it was possible to look gorgeous while giving him a lecture. his mother always looks terrifying whenever she’s scolding his father, yet his father always had this lovesick look on his face and had always told her she looked beautiful. he never understood why… until now.

looking at you while you worry for him, he finally understands what his father sees in his mother.

“…eyam? neteyam? …. you’re not even listening! i’m trying to tell you how you always make me nervous and how you make me worry for you constantly and you’re not even list-“

you were cut off as his arms wrap around you and pull you closer to him. you didn’t fully understand why he was hugging you so abruptly, but you slowly hugged him back sensing he needed some kind of comfort at the moment.

“thank you y/n” he whispered.

you had no idea what he was thanking you for, but you just hugged him tighter to you.

it was at that moment the two of you finally realized you will always have the other as a sense of serenity if your lives. that moment, was the first of many other intimate ones the two of you will share. this was just the beginning to a beautiful relationship that neither of you could wait for.

pls let me know if this is ok. i’ve legit NEVER wrote anything before so uh yeah! hopefully it doesn’t suck..

#neteyam x reader #avatar #the way of water #neteyam #idk what im doin lol #iloveavatar

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spideystevie · 1 year

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💘 + hangman "sharing a bed. then making up more excuses to share a bed after that night just to wake up next to their roommate in the mornings." from the "and they were roommates!" list <3

thank you for your patience! mentions of alcohol but i think that’s it. i had a lot of fun with this one and i hope you like it <3 - [1.2k] | join the party!

It was a one off fluke. Well…it was supposed to be. It was going to be until you realized that there was something sweet in waking up next to your roommate in the morning.

It didn’t have anything to do with the crush that had just rooted itself in your chest, at least that’s what you told yourself.

That first morning was sweet until you remembered why you were sharing a bed and a wave of embarrassment came over you like a tidal wave.

You’d come home from a night out, absolutely plastered. In the haze of your memories, you can vaguely remember one of your friends using your phone to call Jake while you were out at the bar. He’d picked up on the first ring and you could hear his voice saying your name like a question over the phone.

“Is that Jake?” your words were slurred but your eyes were bright and shining. Your friend shushed you gently and readjusted your phone against their ear. You tried to grab for it and they turned away from you, keeping their free hand wrapped around your arm.

You can’t remember much of what was said in the conversation, only that your friend told him you needed a ride home and that Jake was already out the door. You squirmed in your friend’s grip, reaching for the phone again. “Lemme talk to ‘im.”

In a blink, your phone was back in your possession but the call had ended. You think you remember frowning at the screen when you noticed.

“C’mon, he’s gonna be here soon,” your friend said, tugging you towards the entrance of the bar you were at. Sure enough, he’d arrived not even five minutes later. He looked a little tired, fighting off sleep while he waited up for you to come home.

“Jake!” it came out in something close to a gasp, a great big smile lifting your cheeks. Your inhibitions were low as you stumbled towards him and all but collapsed against him, his arms coming around your waist to catch you. His t-shirt was soft against your cheek and you remember keeping your nose pressed against his chest for an almost embarrassingly long time because he smelled so good.

He’d smiled and nodded at your friend in a quiet thanks before he led you to his car. You had held your breath while he buckled you in and tried to focus on one point on the horizon to wade off the nausea creeping up. Jake let you lean most of your weight against him as he helped you inside and to your room where you collapsed onto your bed.

As soon as your head hit the mattress you felt a sleepiness take hold, your eyelids feeling heavier with each blink. You’d groaned when Jake made you go into the bathroom to change for bed and he’d helped you take your makeup off when you were too stubborn to do it yourself.

When you were all settled into bed, advil and water on your bedside table for the morning, he’d turned off your lamp and got up to leave. You feel a slight bit embarrassed when you recall asking him to stay with you before he could leave the room. You hadn’t really expected him to agree, but he did.

You lift your head off the pillow and it immediately begins to throb, making your face scrunch up and your eyes squeeze closed. Through the building tension, you remember the water and pain relievers he’d set out for you on your nightstand. Your eyes peel open just enough for you to grab them and swallow the pills down with water.

After setting the water back down, you look over at Jake sleeping in the spot next to you. He looks so serene, features completely relaxed and his face slightly smushed against your spare pillow. His hair’s a bit of a tousled mess from sleep and the sight of it makes you smile.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” he mumbles, eyes still closed. His voice is deeper in the morning, this you already knew but hearing it immediately after he wakes up, in your bed no less, makes a thick, gooey warmth cloud your chest. You roll your eyes, though he can’t see it, fighting off the embarrassment tickling your nerves at having been caught staring at your sleeping roommate.

“I didn’t think you’d stay,” you say after you’ve laid back down. His eyes blink open and he’s quiet for a minute. He holds your gaze for a minute, lets it wander across your face and then back to your eyes. He shrugs best he can, laying on his side.

“You asked,” he says simply, like it’s obvious. You swallow and nod. He looks over your features once more, almost like he’s committing them to memory, and Jake realizes he likes having you to wake up next to.

After that first morning, the two of you find almost any excuse you can to share a bed at night.

You can’t sleep and knock on his door in the middle of the night, complaining of a minor nightmare. Jake puts his sheets in the wash and claims he doesn’t have a made bed to sleep in, despite the spare set of sheets in the closet. He hosts movie night in his room under the guise of the couch suddenly being too small.

Slowly, over the course of many nights and phases of the moon, something in your dynamic shifts. He’s a lot more touchy with you, his fingers lingering against your skin. You get braver by kissing his cheek before you get out of bed the last few times.

It’s an unspoken change, one neither of you really feel the need to address. That is, until excuse number fifteen—the storm outside might make you lose power and it’s better to just sleep in the same bed in case that happens—and he’s holding you in his bed.

The rain splashes against the windows, flashes of lightning lighting up the room as thunder cracks overhead. It’s quiet though in the comfort of his sheets. You can’t decide if you’re starting to prefer his mattress to yours. A hum of your name breaks you from your thoughts and you adjust your head to meet his eye.

“I’ve been thinking,” he starts and you try to bite back a smirk.

“That’s never good,” you muse. He laughs and shakes his head.

“I’ve been thinking,” he restates. There’s the beginnings of a nervous blush creeping across his cheeks. “Maybe we should do this…permanently.”

You blink at him, eyes a little wide. “This, like, sharing a bed this?”

He nods and you think this is the first time you’ve ever seen your roommate so nervous. You start to smile. You make him nervous. The thought makes you feel giddy inside.

“Yeah. Okay,” you agree and you can feel him physically relax against you. “Now you can stop lying about not having sheets on your bed or the couch being too small.”

He rolls his eyes, but there’s a smile on his face and a laugh bubbling past his lips. He’s just glad he gets to wake up to you every morning now on purpose.

#jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #hangman #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #hangman x reader #jake seresin fluff #jake hangman seresin fluff #hangman fluff #jake seresin blurb #hangman blurb #📝: a writes!#allie's valentine's house party <3 #allie's vday party blurbs!

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sunny44 · 7 months

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A new start (Ruin it pt. 5)

Pairing: Max Verstappen x reporter! Reader

Warnings: none

Summary: You and max were always teasing each other and over the years it turned into a huge sexual tension, until the fights of all the years and the accumulated lust turned into one long night of great sex.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

The days in Mykonos passed in a blur of sunshine, laughter, and exploration.

Max and I continued to enjoy each other's company as friends, and we made the most of our time on the picturesque island.

This morning we decided to rent a small boat to explore the crystal-clear waters of the Aegean Sea.

As we sailed along the coast we couldn't help but feel a sense of freedom and adventure, it was moments like these that reminded us of why we were drawn to each other in the first place.

“This is amazing, just you, me, and the open sea.”

“It really is. It's moments like this that make me forget about all the complications.”

“Sometimes, simplicity is the answer to life's complexities.”

We anchored the boat in a secluded cove where the water was a brilliant shade of turquoise.

We spent hours swimming, snorkeling

and exploring the underwater world. It was a chance to escape from the world's pressures and simply be in the moment.

As the sun began to dip below the horizon, we reluctantly returned to the shore.

We knew that our time in Mykonos was coming to an end and the real world awaited us with all the challenges.

That evening, we shared a quiet dinner at a charming seaside restaurant.

The atmosphere was serene, with soft candlelight casting a warm glow on our faces.

“Max.” I called him as we were looking at the stars in silence. “I've had an incredible time here with you. It's been like a dream so thank you.

“It has been for me too. Mykonos brought us closer and I'm grateful for that.

“I know can't deny the connection we have, Max, It's special and I know I said we should just be friends for now but I don’t want to just be your friend.” He got closer to me. “I want to be the one cheering for you when you win a race and to be the one who comforts you when you have a bad one. I want to kiss you in front of everyone and to be your partner in life.”

“I want you to be all of this too.” He says and comes closer to me. “No matter what happens, I want you to know that I'll always be here for you.“

“And I'll be here for you too, Max.”

In that moment, we didn't need to say anything more. He kissed me and then turn me around so he could hug me from behind and then we spent a few hour there just enjoying each other’s company.

The next morning we packed our bags and prepared to leave Mykonos. Our time on the island had been a beautiful escape but reality awaited us. We knew that the challenges ahead of us wouldn't be easy but we were both willing to face them, whatever the future held.

As we boarded the plane back home we looked out of the window one last time at the sun-kissed beaches and azure waters of Mykonos. As we landed in Monaco, Max invited me to sleep at his house as we arrived late and I was too tired to drive home so here we are at his apartment.

When we entered, we were greeted by his cats who came excitedly to welcome their owner.

"You can take a shower in the bathroom of my room if you want, I'll bring you a towel in a bit."

"All right, thanks." I went towards the room he had pointed out and got into the shower.

I took off my clothes, tied up my hair and stepped into the shower. When I felt the hot water on me, my body relaxed.

Then I heard the door open and Max came in holding a towel.

"I'll leave the towel here." He says and just as he's about to leave the bathroom I call out to him. "Yes?"

"Wanna join?" He smiled and started to take off his clothes.

We were too tired for sex so we just had a relaxing shower before going to bed.

Bonus scene!

Yourusername Instagram stories

(Is good to be back home) posted at 00:54

Tag list: @44-ilton @babyvinnie @hockey-racing-fubol @xjval @xcinnamongirl @dudenhaaa27 @evans-dejong @chilwellspulisic @rossylightwood @rm25711 @imperfect-paragon @formula1mount @flwr-stella @stylesxmunson

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offside-the-lines · 3 months

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tell me who i run to (if not you) | anthony beauvillier

"The first sip is joy, the second is gladness, the third is serenity, the fourth is madness, the fifth is ecstasy." - Jack Kerouac

Summary In July of 2023, Evie looked at a list of cities in North America and rolled a die. Just like that, she packed up her life and moved to Chicago, a fresh start. The 2023-24 NHL season started well for Tito; he did not expect the call on November 28th telling him that he was being traded. To the worst team in the league. And just like that. 10 months after being ripped from his home, he had to pack up and move again. To an unfamiliar city, and to unfamiliar faces. Which is why, when Tito and Evie ran into each other, quite literally, on Christmas morning, they both latched on to a familiar face. Over the next few months, they became close friends. They didn’t talk about the nights shared in Chicago clubs. They didn’t need to. Because they're just friends. Right?

This is a completed fic split into episodes for easier reading. It was written for @bqstqnbruin as part of the Winter Fic Exchange 2k24 hosted by @wyattjohnston.

Episode 1. Blue Christmas (4.9k) Episode 2. I. Winter (4.4k) Episode 3. Pal-entine's Day (4.8k) Episode 4. Four-leaf Clover (5.5k) Episode 5. Evie's Birthday 🌶️ (5.6k) Episode 6. II. Spring (4.8k) Episode 7. Not Goodbye 🌶️🌶️ (5.4k) Episode 8. III. Summer (4.8k) Episode 9. Tito's Birthday (4.2k)

Read it in full (44.5k)

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Under the cut: author's notes, tropes, warnings & disclaimer, fun tidbits, chapter summaries

Author's Notes: This fic was written for @bqstqnbruin as part of the Winter Fic Exchange 2k24 hosted by @wyattjohnston. It got so out of control long so quickly. I genuinely had so much fun writing this, it's basically my magnum opus; if you look closely, I think you can probably see my soul in there somewhere. I would like to thank @devilssacrament, @wyattjohnston, and @forgottenflowers for being my editors, holding my hand and keeping me sane in this. Also, thanks to @swissboyhisch, and @imperatorrrrr for being a sounding board for ideas . All of your help and support has meant so much to me. You are all just the fucking best, I am sorry this has been my entire personality for the past month, I will probably return to normal soon. Probably...

Tropes: a gut-wrenching mix of angst and fluff with a happy ending, slow burn friends to lover (tbh, idiots to lovers let's be real), alternating POVs

Warnings: alcohol (one instance of alcohol poisoning by side character), mature content bordering on smut (mostly occurring in clubs/public), references to a toxic past relationship. Disclaimer: This series is set in Chicago but does not mention the name of the team based there. Only other Chicago players mentioned by name are: Nick Foligno, Jason Dickinson and Connor Bedard. Other notes: NHL players featured Mat Barzal (a heavily featured supporting character/bestie) and brief mentions of Zach Hyman and Matt Martin. Assume that Tito and Evie are always speaking in French with each other.

Face claim for Evie (if you want one, but you can imagine whoever you like): Adeline Rudolph

Fun Tidbits: Original Character (she/her) called Genevieve Gignac or Evie (pronounced eh-vee) is the oldest sibling of Tito's juniors teammate and friend Brandon Gignac. Along with their other sibling Wiliam, they grew up in Montreal. Evie had been living in Toronto for six years, before moving to Chicago in the summer before the fic starts. I did way too much research so a lot of the little facts are true. Nicknames: (ma) chouette (shoo-wet): owl (mon) chou/chouchou (shoo): in practice, honey, sugar, baby, sweetheart // by definition, my cabbage or my profiterole/cream puff (depends who you ask) Solours (soul-oars): the Québécois name for the yellow Care Bear with the smiling sun on its belly Solou’ (soul-oo): a diminutive Evie decides to use

Cook, Cook, drink your tea, But save some in the pot for me. We'll watch the tea leaves in our cup When our drink is all sipped up. Happiness or fortune great, What will our future be? -- "Afternoon Tea at Pittock Mansion" by R.Z. Berry

Episode Synopses:

Blue Christmas Evie and Tito are both starting life anew in Chicago. It's an unfamiliar city with unfamiliar faces. They're both alone on Christmas. Maybe it's fate that brings them together. Jason and Alandra Dickinson are already smelling smoke from this fire.

I. Winter Tito injures his wrist in the first game of 2024, he’s out for 6-8 weeks and then his car breaks down. He thinks maybe he’s cursed. Evie becomes a shoulder to lean on. Barzy gets suspicious.

Pal-entine’s Day Tito returns her kindness by being a shoulder Evie can lean on when she is having a hard time after all-star break. She tells him it’s anxiety about work. He brings her a box of pastries and they cuddle on the couch all day; he doesn’t realize it’s Valentine’s Day. Later, a hook-up goes very wrong.

Four-leaf Clover Tito’s been playing again, and during his first stretch of away games begins to miss home. Well, Evie’s home anyway. When he sees her in the bar, he can’t help but show it. Barzy calls him out on his lies.

Evie’s Birthday Sometimes the music moves you. Sometimes the bass pounding in your chest makes you do things you wouldn’t do. Fuck it, it’s your birthday. That’s what Evie tells herself anyway. There are gifts given, but there are also secrets kept.

II. Spring Tito tries to tell her— he does— It’s just he needs to find the right time, and something keeps coming up. Evie’s honest with herself. But does that even matter? Mat decides maybe it is his time to intervene.

Not Goodbye Evie realizes that her time is running out. To do what? She doesn’t know. But she has one last night to find out. That is until— Well. It’s too late now. Tito flies home and wonders if that will be the worst mistake of his life.

III. Summer They try to get on with their summers as if nothing is wrong, convincing no one. How long will it take them to realize they can’t keep pretending like everything’s fine? And who will finally take the leap of faith?

Tito’s Birthday Tito receives the best birthday present he has ever gotten: the girl he loves standing at his parent’s front door. It was never destiny or fate; it can only be by choice. And they’ll choose each other every time. Eventually, anyway.

Requests (open) | Masterlist & Who I Write For | Join My Taglist

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starrylothcat · 5 months

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2 and 11 from the most recent prompt list?

(Kisses down the neck underneath a high necked shirt (cough blacks cough)) (Kisses all over the face until.) With Crosshair? Man always is so sassy but I want a little sugar with him sometimes too.

Happily Ever After

Pairing: Crosshair x GenReader

Summary: You and Crosshair share a ‘lil cozy romantic moment.

Warnings: None? Cheesy drabble with kissing. Potential implied sexy times at the end but nothing is described or explicit. Can be read either way I think. Reader isn’t described. Established relationship.

WC: 1,000

A/N: I am filled with cheese (and sugar) after writing this. It’s getting colder where I live and I’m feeling cozy. I love writing ‘lil soft moments with this man. Also he’s totally a reader. Thanks so much for the ask! ❤️

You were curled up on the couch next to Crosshair, a small fire crackling in your fireplace.

Though Pabu was mostly tropical, the winter months dropped enough in temperature to warrant a small fire in the evenings.

Your legs were on his lap as you laid on the couch, Crosshair using them as an armrest.

You were absentmindedly watching a silly Holovid while Crosshair read on his datapad. Ever since being rescued from the Empire, Crosshair had taken up a few hobbies to keep him busy on Pabu. One of them was reading. He devoured literature, often finishing a novel in a day or two.

You were used to this routine, quiet evenings with just the two of you. You loved hearing him speak of the tales he finished, hearing his thoughts on characters and motivations.

You tried to keep up with him and read the same books, though his keen eyes were able to read and process words much faster than you.

The novels you could finish, you’d sometimes talk for hours about them with him.

You tried to focus on the Holovid, but you were distracted by his profile as he read. His sharp features have softened a bit in the time he’s been on Pabu, the delicate warmth of the fireplace adding a glow to his skin.

He looked peaceful, serene even. You knew the trials and tribulations he went through, the heartbreak and tragedy. You knew he still carried regret like stones in his heart, never quite forgiving himself for what he put his brothers through, though they have forgiven him.

You shifted, slowly sitting up. Crosshair didn’t budge, engrossed in the story. It wasn’t until you moved your legs off his lap and turned off the vid that he gave you a questioning look.

You stretched your arms above your head, readjusting yourself next to him.

You peeked at the words on his datapad, this story about a pirate who kidnaps a hot-headed princess for ransom, but ends up falling for her instead.

“Enjoying this one?” You asked, leaning your head on his shoulder.

Crosshair shrugged.

“It’s fine. Could use some more action and less romance, though.”

You snorted, flicking your eyes up to him.

“Too lovey dovey for you?”

A ghost of a smirk played at the corners of his mouth.

“The princess should kick the pirate’s ass instead of kissing them, is all I’m saying.”

You turned toward him more fully.

“But the pirate has a heart of gold and she sees straight through him! Tale old as time.”

“How do you know?” Crosshair asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I read the summary.” You replied, laughing.

Crosshair still stared at you.

“Okay, okay. I watched the Holofilm they made for this story!”

Crosshair let out a dry chuckle, setting the datapad down.

“Well, you can save me the time and just tell me the rest of the story. Let me guess, they live happily ever after?”

You snorted. “Is that so bad?”

You traced your hand over his, slowly moving up his arm.

Crosshair grunted as your hand made its way up to his shoulder, and up to his cheek. You cupped his face, gently moving his head to face you entirely.

“Is it so bad for the princess to fall for the handsome, roguish fiend?” You whispered, the fire now reflecting in his eyes as he focused on you.

You kissed his cheek, starting a slow path to his other cheek, over his nose and down to his chin.

Crosshair’s long fingers were now tracing up and down your back as you left featherlight pecks all over his face.

You felt him relax into the couch, his breath hitching slightly as you made your way from his stubbled jawline and under his ear, a highly sensitive spot only you knew about.

“It’s not so bad, I suppose.” Crosshair mumbled, his eyes closing, getting lost in the feeling of your lips on his skin.

You made your way down his neck, mentally making a note of how his breathing changed at certain spots.

You hooked a finger at the collar of his blacks, tugging them down to get more access to his skin. You took in his musky scent, how his hand was subtly pulling you closer to him as you continued your journey, relishing in this reserved moment of him letting you take control.

You left small nibbles, using your tongue to trace small patterns at the skin of his neck, which was now flushed with some color, pulling his blacks down further.

His slight grunts and labored breathing was music to your ears that you could listen to forever, his skin becoming hot under your ministrations. You finally lifted your head and topped it all off with a long, deep kiss on his lips.

Crosshair groaned as he lifted you into his lap, fully wrapping his arms around you, taking back some control as his mouth moved with yours.

His tongue danced across your lips, announcing his intention. You invited him in, letting your tongues slowly slide against one another, his hand cradling the back of your head. It was a languid kiss, perfectly matching the tone of the night.

When you finally pulled yourself away from him to catch a much-needed breath, his eyes held a mirthful glint.

“Do you really want me to tell you how the story ends?” You whispered, touching your forehead to his.

“Hmmm…” Crosshair hummed, beginning his own mission of leaving kisses on your cheeks, your forehead, your chin, and down to your neck, your own body heating up at his touch.

“I’ll have to decide that later.” Crosshair’s breath was hot on your skin, his kisses becoming more intense.

You let out a squeal as Crosshair quickly maneuvered you on your back, bouncing slightly on the plush cushions as his lithe body hovered over you.

You smiled as he continued on, leaving no part of your skin untouched by his lips.

By the time you were finished, the fire had burned to embers, and you lay entwined together, drifting off in one another’s arms enjoying the peace of the night.

Though Crosshair would never say it out loud, he did find his happily ever after, and that was in these moments with you.

Taglist: @crosshairlovebot @sev-on-kamino @kimiheartblade @wizardofrozz @clonemedickix @sunshinesdaydream @kashasenpai @freesia-writes @multi-fan-dom-madness @aconstructofamind @dreamie411 @dystopicjumpsuit @wings-and-beskar @starqueensthings @idontgetanysleep @secretthegriffin @anxiouspineapple99 @sinfulsalutations @secondaryrealm @littlemissmanga @maybethatfanfictionwriter @pb-jellybeans @wanderer-six @king-chaos-world @wolffegirlsunite @dukeoftheblackstar @523rdrebel @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @sleepingsun501 @coraex @cw80831 @dangraccoon @mythical-illustrator @eternal-transcience @the-cantina @nahoney22 @moonlightwarriorqueen @skellymom

Divider by @dystopicjumpsuit

#crosshair x reader #crosshair x you #crosshair tbb #the bad batch #the bad batch x reader #tbb #tbb crosshair #tbb crosshair x reader #clone x reader #clone trooper crosshair #starrycatwrites #tbb crosshair x you #the bad batch x you #the bad batch fanfiction #Star Wars fanfiction

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youneedsomeprompts · 5 months

Note

hi!! i’ve just started writing a fic and it’s going well (a friends to lovers) but i’m having trouble with the transition part of the story. the two have already confessed, but i don’t want them rushing into anything bc it just wouldn’t make sense. do you have any tips on how to ease them from just being friends to dating? i don’t want it to be super quick but i also don’t want to drag it on forever. thank you again!!💗

Points you could include to ease your characters from the friend phase into the dating phase:

trying to be extremely nice to the other because they're still unsure which extent of affection is "right" and feels "appropriate" for their relationship

getting used to sharing what used to be something they had/kept just to themselves (are there maybe certain parts they're struggling with?)

learning more intimate things/details about the other that maybe surprise them

having awkward moments when doing "couple things" they have never done before together (laughing about it together afterwards)

noticing that certain dynamics that their friendship used to have changed for new dynamics that came with dating. maybe they're missing what had been. maybe they're trying to get that back (they would probably have to mention it to the other. are they comfortable with that? do they feel the same way?) maybe they're learning to like the new version of their relationship

being unsure whether the other expects "more" from them now that they are dating

trying very hard to be good enough for the other but maybe this gets uncomfortable for the other as well because they've always been enough (maybe it's time for a talk about expectations)

being super excited/giddy whenever they see each other, maybe that means they need some time alone to calm down and relax again

trying things together and learning that they don't like them. so, they're trying something else

slowly being introduced to the other's friends and family as their new s/o (maybe feeling awkward and being happy when everyone knows it and becomes normal about it)

being happiest when being with the other just fills them with serenity, and they want that all the time, preferring it to the ecstatic and at times nauseating excitement of being freshly infatuated

Every relationship is different. Every couple goes through different things that lead them to a familiar and casual state of dating. But the list above contains a few things a fresh couple might experience in their first time together as a couple. Maybe some of these help you with your story.

In order to achieve this gradual progress from friends to dating to lovers, I would recommend including a few points similar to the ones above and showing how these single things bring them a bit closer together afterwards. With everything they experience as a couple, they create a new part/dimension of their identity as a couple. Show the smaller and bigger effects these shared new experiences have on their relationship. One step at a time (as slowly or quickly as you like), you can bring your couple closer together.

Hope this helps! <3

#friends to lovers #writing friends to lovers #how to write friends to lovers #writing ideas #writing inspiration #writing advice #writers on tumblr #writeblr #otp

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weirdkpopgirl · 5 months

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To Love | Jaemin Imagine #9

Title: To Love

Genre: Fluff (?)

Warnings: a little suggestive, making out

Word Count: 715

Author's Note: I've never been in love before. But whenever Na Jaemin pops into my head (which is a regular occurrence), I associate him with love. He's so sweet, considerate, and sincere. The list goes on, but I'll stop my fangirling here. I hope you guys like this short story. Thank you for reading ^ ^

𓆩♡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩♡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩♡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩♡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩♡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩♡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩♡𓆪

The gentle glow of the lights enhanced the serenity of the room. Seated on the bed, you traced delicate patterns on your boyfriend’s back with your fingertips. Few words were exchanged between the two of you, opting to appreciate the stillness of the moment.

The only discernible sounds were the gentle scratches against the canvas of his exposed back, and occasionally accompanied by sighs of relief from him.

“You’re so tense,” you murmured, as your nails glided over the knots beneath his muscles. Though you couldn’t see his face, the warmth of a small smile resonated in his voice.

“Thankfully, I have you to take care of me,” he said, earning a chuckle from you.

Despite the lightheartedness in his tone, Jaemin meant what he said. Being a motherly figure in his group, he was accustomed to looking after others. However, only a select few in his life allowed him to be on the receiving end. And you happened to be one of those individuals.

On a day full of long dance practices and recording sessions, your touch was exactly what Jaemin needed. His eyes were closed, and he let out another content sigh, appreciating the luxury of being cared for. In that moment, he could feel the weight of his exhaustion and stress dissipate with each stroke.

As your nails continued their gentle path along his back, Jaemin found himself swept away by the depth of his emotions for you. As someone who loved passionately, he realized that his fondness for you was immeasurable.

Unable to dwell in his thoughts any longer, Jaemin shifted his focus. You were caught off guard as his warm hand wrapped around your wrist and swiftly pulled you into his lap. His other hand cupped half of your face, and his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that spoke volumes.

“I love you,” he whispered in a low, almost husky voice.

While Jaemin told you those three words daily, tonight they carried a vulnerability that stirred the same swirl of emotions he was feeling within you. You didn’t even need to say it back, the look in your eyes was all he needed for reassurance. The next thing you knew, his lips were meeting yours in a slow, deliberate kiss. The connection between you two was like a magnetic force, drawing you closer to each other.

Your hands found their way to Jaemin’s shoulders, grasping onto the fabric of his shirt. Simultaneously, he continued to cradle your face, gently lifting your chin at the perfect angle to deepen the kiss. As your lips pressed onto his, a tingling sensation spread through him, the softness of your touch leaving a warmth that permeated every nerve in his body. Emotions surfaced like waves crashing against the shore, adding to the intimacy of the moment.

Every kiss shared with Jaemin held a special place in your heart. Yet, you secretly loved how this particular one seemed to just go on and on. It almost felt as if time had momentarily froze just for the two of you.

If it weren’t for the necessity of breathing, you and Jaemin might never have pulled away. Reluctantly, you placed a hand on his chest, gently breaking the kiss. Both of you were teary-eyed, overwhelmed by the overflowing love you had for one another. The emotion was so intense that it bordered on pain. You hadn't known it was possible to feel this way for a person until now.

Jaemin’s eyes remained locked on yours intently, his thumb gently brushing over your cheek, sending a slight shiver down your spine. He couldn’t resist a playful grin as he joked, “Maybe we should just get married already.”

You would have laughed if you hadn’t caught the hint of sincerity beneath his humor. Moving your arms to wrap around his neck, and softly replied, “Maybe we should.”

Your response caused the smile on his face to widen. Jaemin tightened his embrace, holding you close, as if savoring the moment. Resting his forehead against yours, he pressed another lingering kiss to your lips. The air between you two crackled with a quiet understanding, and a promised future together felt closer than ever. If this is what it meant to love, you fully intended to treasure it forever.

#nct dream #nctzen #kpop #czennie #nct dream imagines #jaemin #jaemin x reader #nct dream fluff #nct dream scenarios #jaemin imagines #jaemin scenarios #nct fluff #na jaemin #nana #nct dream x reader

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thelightsandtheroses · 8 months

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One: I was just coasting until we met

Your Hand In Mine | Joel Miller x female reader

Summary: When Joel finds you on your self-assigned insomnia bench one night, it sparks an unexpected friendship that quickly develops into more. Finding peace in the middle of an apocalypse always seemed impossible, but being with Joel feels natural, like a missing piece has fallen into place at last. When a ghost from your past threatens to destroy the peace you’ve found in Jackson, everything will change.

Word Count: 2.5k

Overarching Series Warnings - 18+ blog - minors do not interact, unexpected friendship, developing relationship, idiots in love, flangst, typical TLOU content, references to cults, references to past manipulation, references to past violence, references to PTSD, single parent reader, some secondary original characters, etc. No use of Y/N, any further warnings to be added as appropriate. No specific age for reader, but range is implied in later chapters (minimum of 30s but not specified any further than that) Notes: This idea has been going around my head for months and I’m so excited to actually do something with this and share it. Also, a special thank you to the lovely @darkroastjoel for encouraging me to write this weeks ago when I wasn’t sure of the concept. The chapter title is from I’m With You by Vance Joy.

One: I was just coasting till we met

Series List | Next

Jackson, WY, 2024

There’s nothing but stars and night sky ahead of you. If you look behind you, you can see a few sparse lights illuminating houses in Jackson, but ahead of you there are no distractions, just the trees and the sky and vastness of the world around you.

The air is cool and smells fresh; a mix of woodland, of the night. You adjust the thick woollen cardigan around your pyjama top and faded sweatpants. There’s no one around at this time of night so you haven’t made a real effort to get dressed or worry about your appearance.

You’ve come here many times before but it never fails to take you aback. The vastness, the stars, the way it makes you feel insignificant but not in a negative way. The only sounds you can hear are the insects and wind blowing through trees.

It’s peaceful, or as close to peaceful as exists these days. For a while, you could forget about the world you live in, convince yourself the last twenty years have been some sick fever dream instead.

In the two years you’ve lived in Jackson, this has become your spot. It’s where you go when you can’t sleep. It’s where you go when the past gets to you, when you either wake because of creeping nightmares and ghosts, or after hours of lying in your bed in a restless, anxious state wishing for slumber.

You only ever come here at night. It’s as if there’s some sort of magic in place that would either ruin or remove the bench in the daytime.

When you first came to this town, the idea of wandering around in the middle of the night seemed preposterous, downright reckless after living in Kansas QZ.

However, one night you hit a breaking point.

You’d been lying in your bed, restless and unable to relax. Every time you thought you might finally drift into sleep, your heart would race and your throat would be so dry that you wondered if you were dying. You would become irrationally concerned you might just stop breathing if you did fall asleep at all. It was a pattern of insomnia that had followed you for years, from before Kansas and beyond. When you did finally sleep, you’d have nightmares, but most of your nights were shaped by restlessness.

That night, as you desperately tried not to wake anyone else up, hating them all for being able to sleep, you felt like you were going to finally break. You had to get out, just clear your head a little.

You discovered the bench that night, perfectly positioned to watch the sunrise, to take in the world around you without distraction or worries.

It’s a special spot; serene and soothing. It’s your sanctuary.

Sometimes you don’t need to come here, your record is a week and half away - an achievement you only reached a few days ago, but inevitably, and usually at least twice a week, you’ll end up back on your bench waiting for the sun to meet you and wash away your ghosts.

There’s the crunching sound of boots on gravel behind you and you turn around cautiously, one hand clinging to the edge of the bench. You’ve been complacent, you chastise yourself, you don’t even have a weapon with you.

Joel Miller stands before you; a battered brown coat buttoned up to his neck, torch in one hand, with the other jammed into a jacket pocket, and a bemused expression on his face when he sees you sitting there.

You’ve heard enough of him from the other locals since his arrival; he’s Tommy’s older brother, Maria isn’t sure of him, he settled here with a teenage ward a couple of months ago. Some of the other locals have said Ellie, the girl, is almost feral. Your impression of her from fleeting visits to the library is that she’s curious, she’s haunted, not used to a community like Jackson (and these days, who would be?) and perhaps the most honest person you’ve met in years.

”May I?” he asks, indicating the empty space on the bench next to you. You almost want to laugh at the Southern lilt to his voice, the polite manners he’s showing you.

‘May I?’ is not a phrase that belongs in this world anymore. People take, some people give, but most take. When the world ends, manners fade. When the world ends, you ask for forgiveness and not permission.

It’s why your instinct is to say no, to say ‘Actually fuck you, Tommy’s brother, and go find another insomnia bench, this one is mine!’

You don’t do that though. Jackson brings back those manners, or it’s trying to at least. And even if you think it belongs to you, technically it’s not your bench because this is a stupid commune.

So you grimace and nod, frustrated about the interruption as Joel Miller sits next to you.

It’s the first time you’ve had a chance to look at Tommy’s brother this closely. While you can see the familial similarities, Joel’s different. His greying dark hair is far shorter, almost messy at the moment like he’s just woken up and walked here. It’s almost endearing.

There’s a scar on the right side of his temple, the one closest to you, and you try and take in every detail of him, to analyse and evaluate just who this person next to you could be.

You expect to feel uncomfortable at his presence, to feel on edge and ready to flee or pounce, but you don’t.

“It’s uh, a good view from here,” Joel says after a moment.

You nod noncommittally and clasp your hands together on your lap.

“I’ve seen you around Jackson. I’m Joel,” he continues. His voice is surprisingly soft, gentle as though he wants to put you at ease. It shows a level of consideration you didn’t expect, one that makes you more honest in your reply.

“It’s a small town, I know who you are, Joel Miller.”

“Oh really?” he asks, cocking an eyebrow and for a second something else flashes across his face. “What have you been told about me then?”

“You’re new, you’re Tommy’s brother. I think that’s about it. Heard you and Tommy are good on patrol.”

“Oh yeah?” Unlike most of the men in Jackson, he doesn’t seem to puff with pride at that compliment. He looks at his hands, wringing them together then before asking, “So, that’s me. What about you then? What’s your name?”

You introduce yourself, taking in the way he repeats your name - how it sounds on his lips.

“I haven’t seen you around town much before,” he says after a moment.

“Would you have even noticed?”

“Someone like you? Most definitely.” You look at the ground in surprise, certain that you’re misinterpreting his words.

He’s just being polite.

It’s just the insomnia.

“It is a good view. You’re right,” you say quietly, keen to shift the conversation away from yourself and back to this moment. “It’s a really great spot for the sunrise.”

“I know,” he says calmly.

You pause. Has Joel Miller been using your bench when you haven’t? Is your bench essentially cheating on you? You’ve always believed this was your secret, your place, but perhaps it’s a timeshare instead.

For some reason, the thought of that upsets you more than you expect. You try and shake it off though, to be polite and good and everything someone who lives in Jackson is expected to be.

Perhaps you can share the bench … today. Just for today.

“How are you liking Jackson so far then?” you ask.

Joel scoffs quietly to himself and you look over with raised eyebrows.

“Been asked that a few times already, huh?”

“You could say that.”

“Why am I not surprised? Well, we don’t get that many new arrivals and you’re Tommy’s brother. People were bound to talk. They’ll settle down when something else comes along.”

“‘S been weeks now. Besides, I thought you just said you don’t get many newcomers, how long exactly is this going to last?” he asks, leaning forward for a moment, his arms crossed on his knees and head down.

You smile to yourself, wondering if you should admit how long it took for people to stop asking your group how you were liking Jackson, how long it has really taken to be seen as a resident and not a new arrival.

“Well, there’s a new litter of puppies due soon, and I heard a rumour that there’s going to be another dance again in the next few weeks. Your arrival will become old news before you know it,” you say with false sincerity.

He chuckles to himself. “This really is like a small town, huh? That uh, -“

“Nosiness? Lack of privacy? Gossip mill?”

“All of the above. So, you think puppies will help?”

“Everyone loves puppies, Joel Miller. Probably even you do.”

He smirks. “Really, do I look like that to you?” There’s a teasing tone to his voice, mischief in what you can make out of his eyes in the dim light.

“Sure you do.”

“So we’ve just got to wait for a bunch of puppies or some town dance for me an’ Ellie to be old news? Okay, here’s hoping.”

A silence falls between you but unlike before, it feels companionable, calming even.

“So, you said ‘I know’ when I said it was a good spot for the sunrise. Does that mean you’ve been out here before then?” you ask as your curiosity finally wins out.

Joel looks over at you with a smirk, “Why, is that really bothering you, huh? A couple of times, sure.” He shifts his weight slightly, places an arm on the bench and turns himself so he’s facing you.

“I just haven’t seen you out here before, that’s all.”

“You come out here at this hour a lot?” Joel raises an eyebrow that you can’t tell whether conveys being impressed or incredulous.

“Sometimes,” you say lightly. Most times.

“How long have you been out here then?” Joel asks.

“On this bench? About an hour. In Jackson? Two years, give or take.”

“An’ how are you likin’ Jackson so far?” he asks, a mischievous spark in his eyes that even in the dim light takes years off him, makes him look lighter.

You laugh before you can stop yourself.

“Touché, Joel.”

“Couldn’t resist.”

“Do you know what? Honestly, I didn’t believe it at first,” you say after a moment. “Places like this - they don’t work, okay? Someone always wants to be in control, power abhors a vacuum and then power corrupts, right? We were watching that play out before cordyceps, and if I’ve learned anything these last twenty years … so when we got here, I didn’t want to stick around too long. I guess that I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop? Only now, now I’m still here and I guess this place, maybe it just works. It shouldn’t, but it does.”

You’re not sure what makes the truth spill out of you like that. Perhaps it’s because it’s the middle of the night, or it’s the power of the bench, or more likely, it’s because you know Joel is probably out here for a similar reason to you.

You can see it in his eyes, in the way he’s sitting.

“That’s what my - my - I’ve heard that before. That this place actually works,” Joel says. “I know what you mean though. You see enough of all that in the QZs. Is that where you were before here?”

“Before Jackson, I was in Kansas for a while.”

“Oh.”

“Huh, I take it you’ve heard the stories then?”

Kansas had a reputation amongst all the remaining QZs. FEDRA had been brutal there; ruled the city with an iron fist and realised every nightmare of a brutal regime.

It was no surprise the fireflies had been so present there at one point, the symbol of hope and rising up against tyranny. Only they had abandoned Kansas years ago and it was down to those who stayed to try and fight back. You remembered Michael, who had tried to lead a movement against FEDRA, a man who was working towards a peaceful rebellion, as if such a thing could exist. The QZ had gone dark months ago though. It didn’t bode well and you’d heard the whispers that perhaps Kansas was no more.

“I uh - passed through on my way here.” Joel shifts awkwardly.

“It’s gone, isn’t it?”

Joel pauses and regards you carefully before he replies.“Yeah.”

“I take it that FEDRA and Michael’s group just - it doesn’t matter actually.” They’re all dead anyway, you think, the facts won’t change that.

Flashes of years pass you.

Violence. So much violence. Then those moments between, the ones that managed to burrow and bury themselves beneath your skin.

Your ex-boyfriend and you kissing in the kitchen of your crappy apartment …

Your birthday - singing to that cheesy rock song in the living room and dancing to an old song with Sean and his sister.

Marking Gabriel’s height each birthday on the kitchen wall because it felt like a normal thing to do, a new line each year, each growth spurt measured.

Your ex-boyfriend and you arguing over the system, over the possibilities for Kansas. You wonder how long he lasted after you left Kansas - if he was there for its end.

Separations … losses … too many deaths … pockets of hope and continued disappointments.

You okay?” Joel asks, a reluctant expression on his face.

“I’m fine. Left there for a reason.”

“Right.”

“It’s fine.”

Kansas had never really been home. You can’t make a home in a place you’re constantly on alert in, where you subsist on fear and anxiety. You could exist there though and at least in Kansas it was clear who was running the show, clear who was in charge.

Jackson is the closest to a home you’ve found in more than twenty years, and even here you feel halfway out of the door.

Joel’s still looking at you though, his brow furrowed like you’re a map he can’t read, an unfathomable equation.

You shrug and resume staring ahead at the forest ahead, at letting every sound, smell and sound around you just soak in, to create an illusion of peace.

After a while you steal a glance at Joel. He’s still on the other side of the bench; the hand on the arm leaning on the bench now pinching the space behind his brows, his eyes momentarily shut.

You’re not sure exactly how much time passes like this but soon the darkness fades and dawn rises to greet you with the promise of a new day.

You stand up, brushing imaginary dirt off your clothes and meet Joel’s gaze. “See you around, Joel Miller.”

“See you,” he replies lightly.

As you walk down the hill, you turn around and notice Joel’s still sitting there, focused on the horizon ahead.

This isn’t going to be the only time you find Joel on your bench, you realise. Suddenly, your lonely but peaceful sanctuary has an addition. You know the two of you will find yourselves on this bench again in the middle of the night.

If you hadn’t spoken to Joel, the loss of that solitude would be devastating, but it’s not.

So, you think to yourself, it turns out you’re not the only insomniac wanderer in Jackson.

Tag List

YHIM: @orcasoul @pedropascalsbbg @yoursoulsunbreakable @iamskyereads @genetics4life @everyth1ngfan @frickatives @perennialdoll247

Everything Pedro tag-list: @harriedandharassed @pedrostories @hiroikegawa @pedrosaidsheispunk

If you want to be added to (or removed from) one of the tag lists, let me know or you can get notifications for @thelightsandtheroses-fics if you prefer. If you do not have an age or age range showing you are over 18, I will not add you to this list. I block ageless and blank blogs.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x female reader #joel miller #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal character #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us #your hand in mine fic

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ponyosmom35 · 4 months

Text

acts of service

Simon Ghost Riley x reader

Liability chapter thirty two

synopsis: Simon decides it's time to fix up the porch and back deck so the garden could be completed.

Liability series:

https://www.tumblr.com/ponyosmom35/733401347573088256/simon-ghost-riley?source=share

The summer sun beat down as Simon, with unwavering determination, delved into the meticulous task of transforming the backyard into her dream garden. Armed with blueprints and a variety of tools, he started with the porch, carefully measuring and cutting the wooden planks that would become the foundation. Sweat dripped down his forehead, but Simon pressed on, fueled by the vision of the serene retreat he was creating for her.

"Simon, please take a break. You've been at this for hours," she called from the shade, concern etching her features.

He wiped his brow with the back of his hand, giving her a half-smile. "I'm almost done with this part. Just a few more minutes, love."

Each day, she watched with a mix of admiration and worry. Worried about Simon working tirelessly under the scorching sun, she couldn't help but check in on him regularly. She brought him cold water, her soft voice urging him to take breaks and rest in the shade. Simon, appreciating her care, would flash a tired but grateful smile, assuring her that he was fine.

"You're going to get sunburned," she said, handing him a bottle of sunscreen. "Take care of yourself, please."

Simon chuckled, applying the sunscreen with a mock salute. "Telling your LT what to do? That’s a warning soldier"

“That sounds familiar” she jokes, recalling their initial nasty fights they had after meeting. “Don’t mess with me Lieutenant”

“Wouldn’t dream of it love”

As the porch began to take shape, Simon moved on to the deck. With every swing of the hammer and every placement of a board, he sculpted an outdoor haven that would soon be a testament to his love for her. The rhythmic sound of construction filled the air, harmonizing with the distant hum of nature.

Despite the grueling work, she found herself increasingly drawn to Simon as he built their oasis. The sweat glistening on his skin accentuated the defined muscles of his arms and back. His determination and focus added an irresistible allure. There was something undeniably attractive about a man who could transform a vision into reality with his own hands. Especially when he had to take off his shirt to wipe the sweat from his forehead.

On the final day of construction, as Simon put the finishing touches on the deck, she couldn't contain her excitement. The garden was taking shape, and Simon had succeeded in turning her dream into a tangible reality.

"I can't believe you did all this," she marveled, wrapping her arms around him.

"It's all for you. Anything to make you happy," Simon replied, his eyes reflecting the genuine love he felt.

The anticipation of what was to come made her heart race, not just for the garden but for the man who had poured his energy into making it a reality. As the sun dipped below the horizon on that seventh day, Simon stepped back to admire his handiwork.

"welcome to your dream garden," he said, a proud smile gracing his lips.

Overwhelmed with joy, she couldn't help but express her gratitude. "Simon, it's more beautiful than I ever imagined. Thank you, thank you so much."

The garden had become more than just a dream; it was a symbol of their shared love and Simon's commitment to making her every wish come true. As they stood hand in hand, admiring the fruits of their labor, Simon couldn't help but revel in the happiness he had brought to the woman he loved.

Tag list:@vivi123abc

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jennay · 7 months

Text

Love Shouldn’t Hurt

Request: Hi! Since you're really good with sensitive topics, I'd like to ask you a ff with reader x noah. Noah is the first guy reader dated after a toxic relationship (I let you choose of what kind) and she has some trust issues and personal insecurities after being gaslighted and mistreated.

Noah Sebastian x Reader

Noah Master List

Warning: Struggles with past abuse?

An: sorry this is a little short! Hope you enjoy it and thank you for this request. I loved it. Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list 💜🖤

You wished you could turn back the clock and meet Noah when you were still whole and unbroken.

You dreamed of the days when you had a pure heart and an open mind, trusted without fear, and loved without hesitation.

You felt like you were offering Noah a shattered version of yourself, which was unfair to him.

It almost cost you your relationship initially when you doubted his sincerity and expected him to leave.

Noah never gave you any reason to feel insecure. Still, you were haunted by the ghosts of your past, telling you that you were unworthy and unlovable.

Sometimes, you felt like you didn't deserve to be happy. You wondered what he saw in you because you couldn't see anything special in yourself.

You thought you were too clingy, anxious, or too much. You felt like a burden or a challenge, constantly struggling with self-esteem.

Noah had a different perspective. He would shower you with compliments and affection every day, telling you how much he admired your strength and resilience and how much he adored your quirks and habits that someone else had criticized or dismissed. He would make you feel beautiful and valued, even when you felt ugly and worthless.

Those negative thoughts still lingered in your mind, even though you had gone through therapy and moved on, and it had been two years since then. They still tried to sneak in and destroy the new confidence that Noah nurtured in you.

When Noah looked at you, he saw his soulmate. He loved holding you in his embrace at night, feeling your body relax against his chest when you were scared or uneasy, knowing he could provide comfort and peace.

He melted every time you reached for his hand in a new situation or when there was a crowd of people around, and your anxiety spiked. You made him feel special without even trying.

"Baby," Noah whispers, caressing your leg with his gentle fingers. "You ok?" His voice is full of concern and love, making your heart flutter.

You shake off the fog in your mind and look at him. You realize where you are. The lake, he brought you to the lake, y/n—your favorite place in the world. The place where you first met him, where you shared your first kiss, where you told him you loved him.

"Yeah." You smile at Noah and move closer to him on the cozy blanket that shields you from the dirt. You rest your head on his shoulder and admire the scenery.

The lake is serene and beautiful, reflecting the light of the sun like a mirror. You watch the small ripples created by the wind, making the water sparkle. The trees surround you with their long limbs covered in green leaves, creating a natural shelter and a sense of privacy.

You breathe in the fresh air, feeling relaxed and peaceful.

"Where were you?" Noah leans back on his hands, eyeing you with curiosity and worry. He can tell when you're lost in your thoughts when something bothers you.

You sit up straight, pulling your knees to your chest like a child caught doing something wrong. You feel guilty for ruining the moment, for not being fully present with him.

He slides his sunglasses to the top of his head, showing you his sincere puppy brown eyes. He doesn't want you to feel like he's angry or judging you. He just wants to understand you, to help you. "You know you can talk to me, right?" He asks softly, reaching out to touch your arm.

You shake your head, "It's nothing," You say, hoping he'll drop it. You don't want to burden him with your problems or insecurities. You want to enjoy this day with him, this perfect day he planned for you. "Do you want to go for a walk?"

You change the subject, looking at the path around the lake.

"Of course." He agrees, getting up and offering his hand to you. He doesn't push you further, respecting your choice. But he also doesn't let go of your hand, letting you know he's there for you whenever you're ready to open up. "My legs could use some stretching." He says lightly, trying to make you smile.

You smile gratefully, feeling the comfort of his hand in yours. You squeeze it gently, thanking him silently for being patient and understanding. You know he loves you more than anything, and you love him too. You just wish you could love yourself as much as he does.

"Did I tell you how fucking cute you look today? Cause if I didn't, I'm probably the worst boyfriend." He smiles widely, showing the perfect smile that you love so much. You swear you can hear angels singing when he does that.

You bite your lip, trying to contain your happiness; you look down at your summer dress, happy you chose what you did. Compliments from Noah felt so genuine like he was seeing something in you that no one else could.

"You didn't, but I don't think that labels you as the worst boyfriend." You giggle. "I think you're a pretty good boyfriend."

"Oh, stop it." Noah blushes. "You make it easy to be good to you." He says, sounding like a cheesy Hallmark card. But you don't mind, because he means it.

You intertwine your fingers with his and hug his arm close to your body, resting your head on his muscular bicep as you stroll along the path. You feel like you're in a romantic movie, except without the drama and the bad acting.

The sun shines brightly, reflecting on the pond where the ducks swim peacefully. "Do you wanna try to catch one of the ducks?" He jokes, his voice full of mischief. "We can give it a nice bathtub home." He says, making a quacking sound with his mouth.

You roll your eyes playfully, "Neither one of us needs that responsibility, and I'm pretty sure it's illegal." You say, shaking your head. "Besides, what would we name it?"

Noah thinks for a moment, then grins. "How about Duck Norris?" He suggests, cracking himself up. "Or Quack Sparrow? Or Daffy Duck?"

You laugh out loud, loving his silly sense of humor. "No ducks babe."

Noah scoffs, pretending to be offended. "I still want one." He says, kicking a small rock with his boot. "You're no fun."

You know it was a joke, and you know he didn't mean it, but the voice in your mind is screaming at you, telling you this was it. He was finally getting bored of you. You have insecurity and anxiety in your chest, making breathing hard. You wish you could silence the voice, but it's too loud and persistent.

He notices almost immediately what happened. He stops walking and untangles his arm from yours, wrapping you in a tight hug and gently rubbing your back.

"I was teasing you." He kisses the side of your face, his lips warm and soft. "I have so much fun when I'm with you." He says, trying to reassure you. He hates seeing you upset and wants to make you happy.

"I'm sorry." You mutter against his chest. You feel tears pricking at your eyes, smearing against Noah's black sweater. You pull away, wiping your eyes. You feel embarrassed and guilty for overreacting. "I don't know why I'm crying." You weakly smile, adding a quiet, small laugh.

You try to act like it's nothing like you're fine. But he can see through your facade. As Noah sees the tears aren't stopping, he pulls you back into his arms and holds you tight.

He gently wipes the wetness from your cheeks with his thumb, looking into your eyes sweetly. "It's ok. I've got you." He whispers, planting a soft kiss on your forehead. Noah makes you feel safe and secure like nothing can hurt you when he's around.

"Promise?" You ask in a small voice, needing his reassurance. You need to hear him say it to confirm he loves you and he won't leave you. You need to believe him, to trust him. He smiles and caresses your cheek, making you feel loved and cherished. He leans in and presses his lips to yours, kissing you with passion and care.

He shows you how much he loves you, how much he wants you. He breaks the kiss and rests his forehead against yours, gazing into your eyes. "I promise. You can't get rid of me that easy."

Tags: @thisbicc @yumikitten @lma1986 @chemicallady

#noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian x y/n #noah sebastian fluff #noah sebastian angst #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian oneshot #bad omens fanfiction

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qveerthe0ry · 2 months

Note

Hello lovely!

I saw your reblog of @for-a-longlongtime‘s poll about queer Pedro boy fic and I was wondering if you have any fics that you particularly enjoy that you could recommend?

Hello friend!!

Sorry I took so long to answer this, but I wanted to have the time to be as thorough as possible because this is an AWESOME question! Thank you for asking me!!

I also want to preface this by saying I haven't had a TON of time to read as many fics as I want to, so if anyone wants to reblog this with more queer Pedro boy fics I would love that!

For now, here are the ones I've read and loved:

Into the Beat of the Night by @perotovar has the sweetest Frankie I've ever read and a badass non-binary OC named River. Their dynamic is so fun but so deeply caring and I CANNOT get enough of them. Their banter is always adorable, and there's a really good balance between fluff, smut, and light angst so far and I'm sooooo looking forward to the next chapter.

baby, i'm-a want you by @perotovar AGAIN they just won't quit with the incredible queer Pedro boy fics. Gay pornstar Javi P and Joel, shy Joel with a crush, all the PPCU boys do porn together, what more could you want???

Maverick by @for-a-longlongtime and its sequels. Of COURSE I can't make this post without gushing over this Tim Rockford x Marcus Pike x Frankie Morales series. Oh my god. It's so hot it will melt you, but also so sweet, and I look forward to updates like it's Christmas eve.

Sharing the Same Roots by @multifandomhoodies over on AO3. I'm not sure if they've cross-posted it here on Tumblr, but this was one of the first Pedro boy fics I ever read and I think about it a million times a day I think. t4t DinCobb set in WEST VIRGINIA!?! Mind was instantly blown, as I lived there for the first 21 years of my life. It paints such a serene, beautiful picture of a slow, happy, queer Appalachian existence that it makes me tear up. Super hot, super well-written, and Grogu is a fellow WVU Mountaineer which makes me chuckle. I wonder how many couches he's burned.

Catalyst by @ezrasbirdie Last but CERTAINLY not least, a fic that I re-read before bed time an embarrassing amount of times because it is SO!!! GOOD!!!! Frankie and Joel are my favorite Pedro boys, and the exploration of their relationship with each other and reader is so incredible. The way the emotions are written so naturally and so raw blows my mind every time I read. And AGAIN shy, flustered Joel??? My beloved. But also absolute menace Joel flustering Frankie??? STOP IT!!!

This list is shorter than I want it to be, so if anyone has suggestions totally use this ask as a way to rec or self-promo your queer Pedro boy fics <333

#pedro pascal characters #ppcu fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #frankie morales #dincobb #din djarin #cobb vanth #joel miller #javier pena #marcus pike #tim rockford

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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 10 months

Text

Perzys se Rūkla (Fire and Flowers) - Chapter Five

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x original female character (Melessa Tyrell) Warnings: Mentions of infidelity, angst, strong language, mentions of pregnancy. Word count: ~2k

Chapter summary: Daemon deals with the fallout of Melessa's discovery. Series summary here.

Endless thanks and all the love to my absolute ride or die @em-writes-stuff-sometimes for cheerleading, beta'ing and just generally being the bestest fandom boo a gal could have.

Author's note: No gods, no masters, no tag lists. Only scabs community label fics. If you find yourself tempted to slap a label on this, please block me instead.

Header by the insanely talented @em-writes-stuff-sometimes

I love you. I love you. I love you.

The thought tempts Daemon to go after Melessa, pull her to him and demand that she forgive him. However, it is Rhaenyra’s coronation and it has been shrouded in enough uncertainty and controversy, without her uncle chasing his weeping wife through the Red Keep. The very last thing the beginning of his niece’s reign needed was more gossip.

He sighs, only realising when he looks over his shoulder that the serving girl he’d pulled from the feast is still in the alcove, pressed against the wall, wide eyed and disheveled. Pathetic. He is unsure whether it is a thought he directs towards himself or her.

“Fuck off,” he hisses, not bothering to watch as she smooths her skirts and scurries away.

Leaning against the cool stone of the corridor, Daemon sighs. He does not know how to put this right, apologies have never been his strong suit. He can put together battle strategies for entire armies, cleave his enemies in twain, and rain dragonfire down upon those who oppose him, but his problem solving does extend as far as opening his heart and admitting to his own wrongdoing.

The very thought of going to Melessa and placing himself at her mercy by pleading for her forgiveness terrifies him more than any battle ever could. He owes it to her, though; she has given up so much in his pursuit of her, even more so since they were wed, and in a single misjudged act of foolishness he has made it all seem worthless.

His footsteps feel heavy as he trudges his way up towards their shared quarters, turning over and over in his mind what he might say to her.

I’m sorry.

It was a mistake.

It won’t happen again.

None of it feels good enough. Daemon swallows thickly, his heart pounding, as he pushes open the door, preparing himself to be greeted by the sight of his wife’s mournful hysterics.

He is taken aback when he finds her seated by the window, staring out of it. She’d appear almost serene were it not for the fact that her eyes are rimmed red from crying. She doesn’t even acknowledge his presence.

Daemon shifts uncomfortably from one foot to the other, clasping his hands firmly behind his back. He bows his head, taking a breath, before looking up at Melessa and uttering the first thought that springs to mind.

“Forgive me,” he says softly, looking at her with genuine remorse.

“There is nothing to forgive,” she says flatly, her voice listless. “It was silly of me to assume our marriage was anything more than a political tool for you to ensure Rhaenyra’s place as Queen.”

A pit forms in Daemon’s stomach upon hearing this. He had expected her to scream at him, to be met with heartbroken tears and burning anger, he would have welcomed that. This beaten-down resignation is more than he can handle; surely she does not believe the things she says? He stands there silently, brow furrowed in disbelief.

“You’ve gotten what you needed from our union, and it is childish folly for me to expect you to not want to bed other women,” she continues. “But now you have gotten what you want, I wish to return to Highgarden.”

Bile rises in Daemon’s throat at her admission. He fights the urge to grab her, to shake her and demand that she be angry with him. He doesn’t recognise the broken husk of a woman seated before him. She is lacking in the spirited brightness he has come to adore from his wife. Had his carelessness really snuffed that out?

He opens his mouth to speak, but finds the words won’t come. She beats him to it, dull and monotonous sounding.

“Don’t let me keep you. We can make the necessary arrangements tomorrow. Go back to the celebrations. Give the Queen my apologies for my absence; I am not feeling especially jovial this evening.”

Not knowing what else to do, wordlessly Daemon turns and leaves. His mind races, fear swirling in his gut at how withdrawn Melessa is, unsure of how to coax her back out of the shell she’d retreated into.

Irritation prickles at him as he strides through Maegor’s Holdfast, back towards the festivities. The very notion of playing at being Hand of the Queen for a feasting hall full of slack jawed halfwits, while his wife slips away from him, seems ridiculous. His jaw clenches as with every step the sounds of merriment get louder.

“There you are,” Rhaenyra calls out to him from across the courtyard.

“Shouldn’t you be entertaining your loyal subjects?” Daemon asks, walking to meet her.

“I needed some fresh air,” she says matter-of-factly. “Finished with that poor girl you dragged away earlier?”

Daemon pinches the bridge of his nose, huffing in agitation. “You saw that?”

“You’d sat at the table like a petulant child for the entire feast. It was the first time I’d seen you move all evening.” She narrows her eyes at him. “Of course I saw.”

Daemon rolls his eyes. “Well, so did my wife.”

“Oh?” Rhaenyra raises her eyebrows at this.

“She wants to go back to Highgarden.”

“And you’re going to let her?”

“What choice do I have?” Daemon asks irritably. “I can’t very well chain her up and force her to stay here.”

“You fought so hard to get her. Is she not worth fighting to keep?”

“Of course she is!” he spits, temper flaring at the absurdity of such a question.

“Then show her that,” Rhaenyra responds softly. “Fight for her.”

“Your coronation feast—” he begins.

“—Is almost over,” she interrupts. “I need my Hand’s mind to not be preoccupied while fulfilling his duties. Fix this, so I may have your full attention tomorrow.”

Daemon nods gratefully, walking away with a renewed determination to win back the affections of Melessa.

She has moved from her seat by the window when Daemon returns. He spots her standing at the foot of the bed, folding dresses into a trunk and he cannot help the white hot fury that boils under his skin at the sight of it. She really means to leave him. He cannot bear the thought.

Storming through the apartment, he snatches a gown from her grasp, the fabric tearing audibly as he does so.

It is the first time all day—since she caught him with the serving girl, that is—that her face has shown any visible emotion. Her eyes widen in shock, quickly morphing to anger as she scowls.

“What are you doing?” she cries in an accusatory manner.

“I could ask the same of you,” Daemon says darkly. “You aren’t going anywhere. Stop behaving like a child!”

“It is not me who is cavorting in hallways with servants. You cannot keep me here as your prisoner!” she shoots back.

He can tell from the way her voice wobbles that she is about to cry again and his heart aches at the sound, immediately regretting how he has handled the situation.

“Petal,” he pleads, his voice softening, still holding her now ruined dress in his hands. “You are not my prisoner—you are my wife.”

She shakes her head sadly, eyes closing as tears fall from her waterline and roll heavily down her cheeks. “I was an infatuation for you, one that you have grown tired of. Just let me go. Please.”

“You aren’t; I haven’t; I can’t,” he implores desperately, letting the garment he holds drop to the floor to reach for her.

She backs away, sniffling. “You know,” she begins, voice thick and watery. “It is not the utter humiliation of what you did to me that hurts most. It is that I have spent the past half a year trying to be the perfect wife for you and still I am not enough.”

Daemon hates this. Why will she not allow him to touch her? He cannot comfort her, cannot mend the broken pieces if he can’t hold her. He aches to pull her to him, fingers flexing uselessly at his sides as stares at her filled with shame and regret.

“You are enough,” he whispers. “More than I deserve.”

“You never say it back,” Melessa croaks. “Do you love me?”

Daemon balks at this, opening his mouth before clamping it shut again. He’d never uttered those words to anyone, wasn’t even sure he knew what such an emotion was. All he knows is that over the last six months something has grown within him, something dark and urgent that drives him to be with her, as though an invisible string tied his heart to hers. To be by her side was a need, not a mere passing fancy. If that was what love was, then he did indeed feel that.

But he has no idea of how to articulate that to her, how to make her understand that in his own unique way all of his heart belongs to her. So he says nothing, watching as she hiccups a sob before walking to the opposite bedchamber, the one that has remained unoccupied since they arrived back in King’s Landing, and closes the door behind her.

The anger builds quickly in Daemon, his patience threadbare at his inability to speak his feelings coupled with frustration at having made no progress in earning his wife’s forgiveness. With a snarl of fury, he picks up a small wooden stool that has been left discarded by the bed and launches it towards the nearest wall. It breaks apart on impact, clattering noisily to the flagstone floor.

“Fuck!” he shouts, before dropping heavily onto the bed, placing his hands over his face in frustration.

The smell of her clings to the sheets, almond oil and rosewater, maddeningly sweet. For a moment he considers barging into the bedchamber she now occupies and simply taking her by force. She’d have no doubt of his want or love for her if he felt how passionately he needed her. He thinks better of it. If she didn’t wish for him to even take her by the hand, it is doubtful she’d appreciate him rutting into her like an untamed beast.

He sighs. He has everything he has ever wanted, and yet has managed to ruin it. He could never allow himself to just be happy. It reminds him of when he and Viserys were children. They had had family visiting from across the continent who’d brought each of the boys a gift. Daemon had received a wheeled wooden horse, which he’d taken great delight in dragging around the gardens. Viserys had been given a model of a castle. To Daemon, it had appeared that Viserys was having more fun playing with his castle than he was playing with his horse. He’d taken it upon himself to destroy both toys. If he couldn’t achieve that level of happiness, then no one else deserved to have it either. Is that what he’d done to his marriage? Shame wells fiery and acrid within him at the idea.

He doesn’t realise he has fallen asleep, exhausted by the events of the day, until he is awoken by the creaking of Melessa’s chamber door. He sits bolt upright, anticipating the sight of her exiting through the door, but is disappointed and surprised to see it is Maester Orwyle instead.

Daemon stands, blinking back sleep, and stalks towards him. “Why the fuck are you creeping out of my wife’s bedchamber in the middle of the night?” he growls irritably.

Orwyle bows his head apologetically, a hint of fear in his eyes as he regards Daemon, glowering and tightly wound. “Forgive me, your Highness—your lady wife was having trouble sleeping. She requested milk of the poppy to help soothe her. You need not worry; I kept the dosage small, considering her condition.”

“Her condition?” Daemon questions suspiciously, eyes narrowed.

Shrinking backwards with a gulp, visibly uncomfortable, Orwyle nods his head. “Y-yes, your Highness. She is with child.”

Daemon feels as though his heart skips a beat, a combination of shock and anger flashing through him in an instant that has him yanking the maester up by his robes. “She’s what?”

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dinodontwait · 2 months

Text

Epistles of Love(Preview/Teaser)

Summary: In a charming and new suburb, y/n stumbles upon cryptic letters from Woozi, unveiling a tale of love and heartbreak. As the past unfolds through Woozi's words, will y/n risk her heart to uncover the secrets hidden within each carefully penned letter?

Genre: Romance, Mystery, Suspense, and Contemporary Fiction.

Trope: Slow-Burn, Strangers-to-lovers?

Main Characters: afab!y/n , Woozi, Amour( real names will be revealed later)

Supporting Characters: Jeonghan, Mingyu, Seokmin, Myungho, Suengkwan and Soonyoung(This list might change as the story progresses)

Word Count: 1.3k

Release Date: 28th February

A/N:

Thank you all for your incredible enthusiasm and support! Seeing the strong response to the poll, I couldn't wait to share a sneak peek of what's in store for this story. Brace yourselves for a thrilling ride as I embark on this writing journey. Currently, I've crafted the first part, and I've sprinkled some teasers within this preview.

I'm envisioning this fic to unfold as a mini-series, spanning about 2-3 parts. However, keep in mind that I've only completed part 1, and there might be room for expansion as fresh ideas come my way. My target word count for the entire fic is around 30k, but who knows – that could evolve with the narrative.

As I dive into the world of writing, I'm aware that there might be a few bumps along the way. If you spot any mistakes or have suggestions, please feel free to let me know. I'm still learning and appreciate your input!

Thank you for joining me on this writing adventure. Your encouragement means the world to me! 🌟❤️

Holding the old-fashioned envelope in her hands, y/n hesitated. The letter inside seemed personal, like a peek into someone's private thoughts. She pondered whether to read it or not, feeling a mix of curiosity and respect for the past occupant's privacy.

The vintage style of the envelope, with its intentional old-timey vibe, hinted at a story waiting to be told. The decision to open it felt like standing on the edge of someone else's feelings and memories. The inked words on the letter, still folded, held the potential to reveal a part of someone's life not meant for casual eyes.

The mystery and curiosity won over her reservations. With a quiet determination, y/n decided to unfold the letter, ready to explore the hidden stories and emotions that the pages might unfold. The choice to step into this unknown space felt like opening a door to someone else's past, and she took that step with a mix of trepidation and anticipation.

Dear Amour,

In the silent embrace of this letter, the ink traces the echoes of a day that etched itself into the fabric of my existence.

The day unfolded like a poem, a delicate dance of moments that wove themselves into the very essence of my being. It was as if each passing second became a verse in the story of a land parched for the sweet touch of rain. The air, thick with anticipation, carried me toward a nearby cafe—an enclave of serenity that stood as a refuge from the monotony of the ordinary, a sanctuary where possibilities unfurled like petals in the gentle breeze.

Since the tapestry of my memories began, I've been the silent observer, finding solace in the quiet corners of my home. The contours of my existence were shaped by the solitude I sought, a realm where the whispers of my thoughts resonated in the stillness. Yet, on that fateful day, a gentle pull, like the invisible hands of fate, tugged at the strings of my solitude. It was an urging, a call to step into the unexplored territory of the cafe—a space that held the promise of encounters yet to unfold.

The very decision to step into that cafe marked a departure from the familiar script of my life. The door swung open, not merely to a physical space, but to the uncharted landscapes of possibility. With each step, I traversed the threshold of routine, embracing the unknown with a heart open to the serendipitous wonders that awaited within the walls of that sanctuary.

The aroma of freshly ground coffee beans greeted me, weaving a sensory tapestry that spoke of warmth and familiarity. It was then that I saw her—the girl who, unbeknownst to her, would redefine the contours of my existence. She stood there, a living canvas painted by the hands of fate, the light wind playing a delicate symphony with the strands of her hair.

Her presence seemed like a stroke of destiny, a chapter written in the celestial script of our intertwined stories. As our eyes met, time suspended itself, and the ordinary boundaries of reality blurred. It was a moment that transcended the mundane, as if the universe conspired to orchestrate a connection, an unspoken agreement unfolding in the silent language of glances and smiles.

Her eyes, pools of warmth and mystery, held secrets and stories yet to be told. They mirrored the reflection of a kindred spirit, resonating with a depth that transcended the superficial. It was in that gaze that I felt the tendrils of an invisible thread weaving itself between our souls, binding us in a silent understanding that surpassed the limitations of spoken words.

In the symphony of that moment, the cafe transformed into a sacred space, a stage where our destinies briefly intersected. The ordinary chatter of patrons faded into background noise, leaving only the echo of our shared gaze. And in that silent exchange, a connection was forged, setting in motion a series of events that would shape the course of our intertwined narratives.

The girl I saw was you, and you had me the moment you looked at me. Your gaze became the catalyst for a myriad of emotions, unraveling a story written in the language of fate and woven into the very fabric of our shared existence.

Each recollection of that encounter is like a cherished melody, a timeless tune that plays on a loop in the quiet chambers of my thoughts. The symphony of that moment, the laughter echoing in the cafe, the delicate clink of coffee cups, all compose a melodic ode to the serendipity that unfolded that day. It's a melody that resonates through the corridors of my mind, an everlasting refrain of a connection that defies the constraints of time.

In these moments of reflection, the word "Amour" echoes through my mind, a gentle whisper that transcends the ordinary definitions of fate. It's more than a term; it's a name, a label that carries the weight of our shared connection. The mere utterance of it conjures images of you—the girl who became the focal point of a destiny written in invisible ink.

So, let this letter be a testament to the serendipity that brought us together—the day the drought of my soul quenches its thirst with the rain of your presence. Every word etched on this paper is a silent acknowledgment of the profound impact you've had on the rhythm of my life.

In the quiet solitude of my room, as I pen down these words, I find myself grappling with the uncertainty that shrouds our future. This letter, crafted with the ink of genuine emotions, might never reach your hands. I am left to wonder if our paths will ever cross again, if the serendipity that united us will weave its magic once more.

Yet, even in the face of this uncertainty, I write with a glimmer of hope—a hope that transcends the boundaries of time and distance. This letter becomes a vessel, carrying not only my sentiments but also the silent yearning to see you again. And even if this letter remains unsent, floating in the sea of unsent letters, it stands as a testament to the sincerity of my emotions and the silent hope that someday, our stories will intersect again.

Yours in reminiscence,

Woozi

The words lingered in the air as y/n absorbed the emotions woven into each sentence. The letter had painted a picture of a connection that transcended time and space. The vintage charm of the envelope seemed to have carried not just a message from the past but a piece of a love story waiting to be unfolded.

As she set the letter aside, the room felt different, as if the walls whispered secrets that begged to be heard. It felt like the quiet town held more stories than she had initially imagined, and within its embrace, she found herself entangled in the enigmatic tale of Woozi and Amour. She hoped to find more, but the letter just ends, and she keeps thinking about it. The night enveloped the town in its quiet embrace, and y/n found herself entangled in the web of possibilities. The journey into the unknown had just begun, and the quiet town, with its cobblestone streets and whispered rumors, held the key to a myriad of untold narratives.

With a heart brimming with curiosity, she hoped to uncover the layers of mystery that clung to the very fabric of her surroundings. But for now, the letter remained a silent witness to the unexplored depths of the town's history. Its words, though poignant and evocative, were a mere prologue to the stories that awaited her. As she drifted into contemplation, the vintage envelope and its contents became a beacon, guiding her into a world where love and suspense danced in tandem, inviting her to be a part of a narrative that defied the boundaries of time.

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