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charmedreincarnation · 10 months

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Success story (not the void)

Maya, as I promised you, I'm writing you my success story. It's quite a wild one, so please bear with me.

My journey started during the Angel era, when I was struggling with the void state. I tried everything I could think of to get out of it - every method, every meditation technique, affirming, intention, lucid dreaming, and even coaching from various LoA experts, including those not so well-known. I was desperate for a breakthrough, a key to unlock the life I deserved. I would have done anything, even ate dirt if that was what it took.

At that time, my family was going through a rough patch. My abusive father, a police officer, divorced my mother and left us with nothing. We were homeless, living out of our car, while my dad was living a comfortable life. He had a new girlfriend, a younger woman, and continued to be respected in his job. Meanwhile, my mom, who was a victim of his abuse, was labeled a liar and lost everything. I was filled with rage, towards him, towards the world, towards the jury that declared him innocent. I wasn’t safe in this world especially being homeless, women and children are the most vulnerable to sexual and physical assault. I was scared, unsafe, and had nothing aside my mother and siblings.

I wanted to enter the void, not just for myself, but to give my family a better life and to bring justice to those who had wronged us. I was at a point where I was harming myself, but I couldn't give up because my family needed me. I remember messaging you, Maya, pouring out my story, begging you to help me enter the void. Despite your initial hesitation, you responded with kindness, sharing some personal experiences, and reassuring me that I wasn't alone.

Your words gave me hope. You made me realize that many people who find the law have gone through, or are still going through difficulties. If they could overcome their struggles, so could I.

So, I decided to let go of the void. Not because I didn't believe in it, but because I had elevated it to a status akin to a genie that would magically solve all my problems. When non-dualism and other loa concepts were introduced, everything finally clicked. I realized I didn't have to be angry, or try to be someone manifesting master, or do all these fake methods. I have always known that my family and I were meant to be happy.

For a month, I went through a process of shedding my ego. It was uncomfortable, and there were times I found myself fighting my own thoughts, telling them to shut up. I was separating my ego from myself. You, Maya, had once said that this process was similar to withdrawal symptoms of someone quitting drugs. This thought comforted me. I was becoming someone new, my old thoughts weren't there anymore.

Living in my car, I began to see it as my mansion. My mom's crying turned into laughter, my siblings' whine for food turned into jokes. We pretended that we were living our dream life, and after a while, my siblings joined me in this game. We would come "home" from school and yell at each other, pretending that the house was so big that we needed walkie-talkies to communicate.whenever I needed to steal food it was because we owned the place and can take whatever we want, not because I had to.

One day, we parked at a field, and I started imagining my life. I tried to become the clouds by thinking I am and accepting that my consciousness could be whatever it wanted. I got my siblings to do the same. We became the flowers, then the sun, then the stars at night. Even though physically I was still in the car, mentally and emotionally, I was living my dream life.

When I woke up, I was in a large room. It was decorated to perfection. I heard my siblings running around, throwing toys, and my mother laughing with a man, who's laugh alone sounded like gold. I explored the house, and it was beautiful. There was no yelling, no violence, only laughter and love. My mom introduced me to her boyfriend, and he was holding a newspaper that read that my father had been arrested for domestic crimes and fraud. He was losing everything.

At that moment, I realized that I had done it. My mom was happy, beautiful, and loved. My siblings had plenty of toys and clothes, and our house was filled with love. My family and I were finally living our dream life.

I have been living my life for about a month and now, and it has been blissful to say the least. I go to a well known private school and I am the top student. I am apart of many clubs, and also spend a lot of time volunteering at domestic shelters, and speaking to victims of intrapersonal abuse. I have made friends of people who volunteer with me, so it’s nice to have people who care about the same thing I do.

I am also apart of my writing club, and found comfort in reading and writing and have decided I want to be an author once I graduate. I have always wanted to be a writer but they don’t make enough money often. But now not only do I know I will be successful but my family has enough money to last us multiple generations plus some more. My Bio father had gotten much to what is coming to him and he will be going to jail. I hope he drops the soap but I have let go of my anger with that barbaric fool. So has my mother who has also recently gotten engaged and I get to be her maid of honor. She has a friend group of mothers from school and I have never seen her happier. My now father treats her like a goddess and treats everyone like that. He spoils my mom and us with gifts and luxurious trips. He also spoils the help such as the maids and cooks and never treats them below us. He does not expect anything from my mother except for her to be happy and spend time with us. He is kind selfless loving and respectful. the real definition of a man. I adore him so much and I’m so happy to call him my father.

I find great joy in the little stuff. I love cleaning my room. My bio dad was a hoarder and the house was always a mess because my mom was the sole provider though my “bio dad” made much more. He instead used it on hookers, alcohol, and drugs. Pathetic excuse for a man I know. I love going shopping, as I don’t have to look at the price tag. It feels normal, there was no shift. This is just life constantly changing. I have 5 pets and spend great time with all of them, and they are all so loving and adore me. I love school, and doing my homework, taking tests, assemblies etc. i love talking to my teacher about my ideas and how I can improve. They’re always so encouraging and kind, and I have never experienced that. I also loveeeee having crushes hehe. I never had time nor the “looks” for that prior to these past few months, but I receive a good amount of attention from a lot of sweet man and the “what if” aspect of having crushes is fun. I just love being a teenage girl, something I was not always able to say. I love the world and the people in it, the creations I bring and make, and all I did to make it what it is. I never worry what happened to my old self or life. It died, it doesn’t exist I am here right now with them and the old story is gone. Like an author erasing a part of a story she doesn’t like and never producing it, I did the same. My one true reality and I am so blessed.

Also big thanks to bloggers like @awarenessis @starbursts777 @consciousnessbaddie for introducing this concepts to Tumblr in a simple and kind way. Love to everyone in this devoted app.

Congratulations on your astounding success story 🥹 Your journey is a testament to the power of the human spirit, and it's an honor to hear about your transformation. This is beautiful wild tale, but it's your reality, and it's absolutely beautiful.

Your story is a powerful reminder that we have the power to shape our reality, no matter how dire our circumstances may be. It's a testament to the power of belief, determination, and the human spirit. I'm incredibly proud of you and wish you and your family all the happiness in the world.

#law of assumption #manifesation #manifesting #void state #my asks

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shaunamilfman · 1 month

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can u write jealous Jackie hcs? if u do, thanks in advance:)

you're welcome brooo. love jackie requests for sure don't even worry about it man

Jealous Jackie HC's

girl watches you like a fucking hawk whenever someone's talking to you. even if she's actively talking to someone else you'll catch her keeping an eye on the situation the whole time

walks up to you afterwards all like “so what were we talking about?? 😁😁” with a dangerous glint in her eyes. Jackie Taylor can be terrifying when she puts her mind to it. god forbid someone makes a serious move on you. she might even sic Shauna on them

Jackie will know someone's entire life story if she's jealous of them. walk into the living room to see her on her laptop looking at the layout of their house on a realtor website. be glad you left before she built it on the sims and set it in fire. it was… disturbing.

she sips at her drink to distract herself and ends up getting fucking wasted every time. accidentally throws up on your shoes and still asks if you think she's pretty afterward

Jackie gets more insecure when she sees you talking to a man (even if you're obviously not interested in them), but gets extremely jealous when she sees you talking to a woman. lives for running those girls off. walks over to talk to them and is like “hey I heard a rumor that…” until they get so uncomfortable they leave

Jackie gives shauna a play-by-play of every single event in such excruciating detail that Shauna's tapping her head against the wall hoping she somehow knocks herself out. Shauna pleads with you to never talk to anyone ever again so she doesn't have to hear about it again.

1996 Jackie taking notes from one of those teen magazine articles like “10 ways to keep your man from straying” like it's her fucking job (someone breathed in your direction). absolutely does not work for her. you ask her why she's been so fucking weird all week and she looks frustrated that you didn't fall even deeper in love with her like the article promised you would. somehow it's your fault, she knows it.

Jackie tries taping their face on a dart board because she's seen it in movies but can't get a single dart to land on the board and ends up madder than she started.

self-indulgent but thinking about Jackie knowing you're nearsighted and drunk Jackie stealing your glasses because “why would you need to see other girls further away?? 🙄🙄”

Jackie Taylor is a master of pretending to drunkenly pour her drink on whoever she's jealous about. all wide-eyed apologies and slurring her words as she looks so genuinely sorry that you even start to believe her it it wasn't for that smug look that crossed her face as they walk off to change

she's all fucking over you. climbing into your lap, arms wrapped around your shoulders, faced buried in your neck, whispering little things in your ear. imagine how close you think two people could get. not close enough. Jackie's got that beat.

doesn't like feeling jealous so she'll flirt with other people to get your attention because she wants you to be the jealous one instead. except she always makes the worst fucking choices. it's always like Shauna (which 🤷 is hot. let's be real. you're into it.) or someone she's visibly not interested in or someone visibly not interested in her. she just sees red and can't think straight I'm afraid

Jackie conspicuously reading a newspaper she doesn't realize is upside down with those mustache glasses in the corner of the restaurant while you're getting dinner with an old friend to catch up

#jackie thoughts 🩷#anon #yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets x you #jackie taylor x reader

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blubffsd · 1 year

Text

— WORLDS COLLIDE PT. 3

summary: The lie you believed your whole life just fell apart, the person you loved the most let you down once again. Why did you think this time would be different?

previous chapter

note: i really don't know what song to recommend for this part, just play your favorite sad song lol. please pretend that on social media it says "Mia" instead of Y/N, i edited it like 3 times and it never saved so i gave up.

@http-isabela love u 😚💞

Indignation.

That's what Mia feels now.

She has a hard time believing what she sees, but unfortunately it is real.

They backstabbed her in front of miles of people.

It wasn't until she arrived in Argentina that she found out about their tweets, all thanks to Anto, who had found out from Jorgelina Cardoso, Di Maria's wife.

After Mia found out, the players of the Argentina team found out too, Lio told them what happened after Anto told him.

Most are completely outraged by the audacity of her brother-in-law and his wife to make such comments.

All of them are still euphoric for having become world champions less than 2 days ago, and even more so now that they are waiting in Ezeiza to celebrate with the Argentines at the Obelisk.

So right now they do and say things that they wouldn't do at another time.

And Mia too.

Will she regret of this? Yeah.

Does she care now? No.

Obviously people suspect that the tweets are for Melissa and Jirès (especially those of Enzo and Julián).

If Kylian and Mia's names was a trend before, now there are even newspaper articles speculating what happened between them.

And as if that weren't enough, now she has his boyfriend's fans attacking her on twitter, just like when he said he's dating her.

Jirès even had the audacity to reply to her tweet.

Mia knows she were wrong a lot, but is all that necessary?

It's okay that they're mad at her and she understand it. But why increase the hate she is getting?

Why are they treating her like this if two days ago they had dinner with her and told her how grateful they are to have her in their lives?

Did they lie to her or were her attitudes so bad that they changed their opinion drastically?

Even if it hurts Mia keeps seeing the tweets out there about all the drama.

Wonderful.

Now they are relating the songs of her favorite singer with her love dramas.

THEY EVEN MAKE A PLAYLIST. (it's real btw)

Mia lets out a laugh when she saw the songs they chose to "cry over your divorce".

At least they are not criticizing her or judging her actions.

It doesn't make Mia feels better, but she doesn't feel worse. That's okay.

She wants to believe that's okay.

Mia arrives at her father's house hours after arriving in Argentina.

Anto insisted so much that she stays with her and the children but Mia refused, she needs to talk to her dad, she miss him so much.

Mia knocks on the door of the house while she sees the Argentine flag hanging.

Her father opens the door for her in a matter of seconds and when he sees her he smiles and hugs her.

Mia smiled slightly as she felt his arms around her.

It feels good to hug him again. And that he is the one who took the initiative makes her happy.

Although deep down in her heart she knows that he is hugging her because Argentina won the World Cup and not because she came home after 5 years.

He invites her in and she enter his house.

Everything in the house was the same as when she left, but it felt different.

—Sentate si querés (Sit down if you want) –he says pointing to the couch in front of Mia.

She nods and sit back watching him do the same.

There is an awkward silence between the two of them until Mia speak.

—Y... ¿cómo andás? (So... how are you?) –her father turns to look at her and smiles widely.

He's going to talk about football.

—Estoy re bien, hija. Me siento tan feliz, nunca me había sentido así en mi vida, te lo juro. (I'm fine, daughter. I feel so happy, I have never felt like this in my life, I swear.)

He doesn't have to swear for Mia to believe him, she knows he's not lying. He was never this happy.

—Qué alegría, pa. (What a joy, dad) –she smiles slightly not knowing what else to say.

Mia wish she were as happy as her dad, but she can't knowing what she did.

She can't get Kylian out of her mind and how he must be now, a few hours away from his birthday.

She knows she have to explain everything to him but she doesn't have the courage to do it.

What excuse could she make for having abandoned him after not having achieved what he dreamed of all his life?

Mia comes back to reality when she feels her dad's touch on her shoulder.

—¿Eh? ¿Qué pasó, pa? ¿Me dijiste algo? (What happened, dad? Did you say something?)

She hears her dad laugh and sees how he shakes his head.

—Te pregunté qué dice tu noviecito por haber perdido (I asked you what "that guy" you're dating thinks about losing) –a mocking smile appears on his face.

"That guy you're dating"? Is that the way he intends to name her boyfriend?

—No sé, todavía no hablé con él. (I don't, I didn't talk with him yet).

—¿No quiere hablar con vos todavía después de haber perdido? Qué idiota. ¿Cómo se llama? ¿Kyle? ¿Kylan? (He doesn't want to talk to you after losing? What a idiot. What's his name? Kyle? Kylan?)

The mocking smile doesn't leave her father's face and that can't bother Mia anymore.

He doesn't even know his name.

—No es ningún idiota y su nombre es Kylian. Me sorprende que no sepas el nombre de mi novio, con quien estoy hace 4 años. (He's not an idiot and his name is Kylian. I'm surprised you don't know the name of the guy I've been in a relationship with for 4 years.)

Her father laughs mocking Mia's words.

—Kylian, nombre de perdedor en las finales (Kylian, name of a loser in the World Cup finals) –he laugh again.

Mia frowns. He's acting like her boyfriend hasn't hattrick or won a world cup yet.

He's trying to humiliate Kylian and she is not going to allow it.

—Te recuerdo que "ese perdedor" ya ganó un mundial y en su primer intento, y también casi gana su segundo mundial por su cuenta (I remind you that "that loser" has already won a World Cup and in his first attempt, and he also almost won his second World Cup on his own).

Now her father is the one who frowns, surprised by her words.

—Dejá de defender a ese tarado, ese chico no vale la pena, te lo dije millones de veces. Estás haciendo lo mismo que hiciste en 2018. (Stop defending that dumb guy, that boy is not worth it, I told you millions of times. You're doing the same thing you did in 2018.)

Mia takes a deep breath trying to calm down, what is happening cannot be real.

—Te hacías la que querías que ganáramos nosotros para que acá en los medios de comunicación no te dijeran nada, pero seguramente querías que gane ese estúpido que tenés por novio. Y sí, no querías que te pase lo mismo que en 2018, que lo apoyaste a él cuando estaba jugando contra tu país y me hiciste quedar como un tarado. Me traicionaste y me dejaste de lado por tu novio, lo elegiste antes que a mí y no tuviste ni un poco de consideración conmigo (You pretended that you wanted us to win so that here in the media they wouldn't tell you anything, but surely you wanted that stupid boyfriend of yours to win. Of course, you didn't want the same thing to happen to you as in 2018, that you supported him when he was playing against your country and you made me look like a stupid. You betrayed me and dumped me for your boyfriend, you chose him over me and you didn't have one bit of consideration for me).

Mia can't believe what she is hearing.

—Ese chico te va a dejar por la primera chica que encuentre, no sé cómo duró tanto con vos. Todos los futbolistas son iguales. No me sorprendería si me decís que prefiere el fútbol antes que a vos (That boy is going to leave you for the first girl he finds, I don't know how he lasted so long with you. All footballers are the same. I wouldn't be surprised if you tell me that he prefers football over you).

That was the last straw.

—Entonces estás diciendo que Kylian va a hacerle lo mismo que vos me hiciste a mí (So you're saying that Kylian is going to do the same thing to me that you did to me?)

Mia feels her dad's stunned look and her let out a sarcastic laugh.

—Según vos él va a elegir el fútbol antes que a mí ¿no? Y me estás advirtiendo. Qué considerado, no querés que pase por lo mismo que me hiciste pasar vos (According to you, he is going to choose football before me, right? And you're warning me. How thoughtful, you don't want me to go through the same thing you put me through).

Her dad gets up from the couch completely angry.

—¿Qué decís, nena? Si a vos te di todo lo que pude para que no te faltara nada (What do you say? If I gave you everything I could so that you didn't lack anything).

Mia sighed completely frustrated, he doesn't get it.

Obviously he doesn't get it.

—Ya sé y te lo agradezco. Pero siempre hubo algo más importante que yo, no te importaba qué pasaba conmigo ni nada, nunca fui tu prioridad (I know and thank you for that. But there was always something more important than me, you didn't care what happened to me or anything, I was never your priority).

She feels how a lump forms in her throat and tears appear in her eyes.

Her father keeps glaring at her in front of her, as if she just insulted him.

—Siempre había un partido más importante que mi cumpleaños, una práctica más importante que mi graduación. Cuando nací mamá me dijo que te quejaste porque tenías que jugar un partido ese fin de semana y no ibas a poder por tener que cuidarme a mí. Y tenés el descaro de venir a advertirme de Kylian. (There was always a game more important than my birthday, a practice more important than my graduation. When I was born, mom told me that you complained because you had to play a game that weekend and you couldn't make it because you had to take care of me. And you have the nerve to come warn me about Kylian).

Her father does not take his eyes off her.

—Bueno, y decime entonces, ¿dónde está tu noviecito ahora? ¿Te buscó o algo por lo menos o no le importas lo suficiente como para querer saber dónde estás? (Well, and tell me then, where is your boyfriend now? Did he look for you or something at least or does he not care enough to want to know where you are?).

That hurt Mia.

Kylian hasn't called her.

But she didn't call him either and she should have.

—Él al menos no me llamó gritándome que soy una traidora, que no merezco vivir y que dejé de existir para él como tú lo hiciste (He at least didn't call me yelling that I'm a traitor, that I don't deserve to live and that I ceased to exist for him like you did).

There isn't a single hint of regret on his face, her father looks at her seriously, as if telling her that if he had to do it again, he would.

—Estabas apoyando al enemigo (You were supporting the enemy).

Mia remember Hiba's words to her during the match.

"You're wearing Kylian's jersey and sitting next to his family as you clap for the enemy."

This whole situation is so similar to 2018 but feels so different.

—Kylian necesitaba mi apoyo y estuve ahí para él. (Kylian needed my support and I was there for him).

Her father laughs sarcastically.

—¿Y por qué estás acá conmigo y no con él? Si él tanto te necesita (And why are you here with me and not with him? If he needs you so much).

Mia looks at her dad and then at her bags.

He's right, for the first time since she were born.

Why is she there with him if the one who really deserves to talk to her is Kylian?

Why did she think her dad would change this time?

Why is she there with him and not with Kylian? How could she get so carried away?

Mia takes her bags under the stupefied look of her dad and take one last look at his house.

The walls still have the same photos of her dad when he played football, it makes Mia a little sad to remember when she asked him why he hasn't photos of her there.

"It's just that I don't care enough about you".

After saying it, he laughed, implying that it was a joke.

Mia opens the door and walk out of her dad's house.

Maybe it wasn't after all.

note: HELLOWODOWODO

taglist: @nightlockcornucopia @melliflulu @mad-die45 @bifici @woozarts @neymarsrealgf @meanwhilesomewhereelse @psgkm7 @matthiashelvarsgf @krillfromsky @ashley-leclerc @mxgvmiii @like3dbypierregasly @httpspedri26 @aerangi @berryhtrs @lena-03 @gash167 @claaau5 @notanenthucutlet @okayline @noodle81937

#kylian mbappe #kylian mbappe fanfic #kylian x reader #mbappe imagine #mbappe x reader #mbappe one shot #mbappe #football imagine #worlds collide km

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underoossss · 6 months

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okay i’m new to your bloggg but i was wondering if you could write about carving pumpkins with steve? reader x steve, and steve keeps sharing kisses with the reader instead of carving his pumpkin. the reader is trying to focus hard on their pumpkin, which gets extremely hard with stevie giving them puppy dog eyes for another kiss. the night ends with a movie night where they watch steve’s favorite, “ferris buellers day off” and steve can’t focus on the movie and can only focus on his girl.

hello! thank you so much for this request i think it's so cute and had the best time writing it! 1k

You can feel his eyes on you, a warm thing almost like his touch. You're sitting outside, on Steve's backyard with newspapers strewn out and pumpkin seeds sticking to it. Steve sits to your right with his own pumpkin in front of him, a big one that's lopsided to the left. It's half carved, it has been for the past 10 minutes because he can't stop staring.

"Stevie." You say, still concentrating on the vampire face you're carving into your pumpkin. There's a smile on your face as you look over at him, stomach flipping at the besotted look on his. "What happened to your pumpkin?"

Steve's leaning his chin on his palm, eyes caressing your face as he looks and looks and looks. "It can wait, there's a pretty girl I'm checking out."

You pretend to look behind you and laugh when Steve rolls his eyes. "If I'd known wearing your clothes would distract you so much I wouldn't have." A glance downwards towards your hoodie –his hoodie– makes Steve's lovestruck look return.

"Babe, you always distract me." Steve shakes his head, moving to sit closer to you.

"Remind me to never get in a car with you again." You shake your head attempting to continue your pumpkin carving before Steve grabs your hands. Glancing sideways you find the beautiful brown eyes you love, soft and wide because Steve knows how to get what he wants. "If I kiss you, would you let me finish my pumpkin." You smile, just as crazy about him.

At Steve's answering smile you do too, and when his hands find your waist and tug, you can't help but giggle into his kiss. The giggle turns into a smile, then into a grin until eventually you're able to kiss your boyfriend back just as deeply as he's kissing you. His lips travel down to your jaw and your neck, raising goosebumps on your skin as he goes. "Was dying to kiss you." Steve mumbles into your skin.

You laugh when he kisses a ticklish spot on your neck. "Stevie, you kissed me earlier. Barely an hour ago."

"Too long." Steve's lips go back to yours so he can kiss you softly, the tip of his nose brushing the side of yours.

Bringing both your hands to his face you pull back, smiling at the pout he gives you and his second attempt at puppy eyes. "That won't work this time, I want to finish carving my pumpkin and you got your kiss."

"But–"

You shut him up with one last peck and turn back to your vampire carving so you can continue your work. "The sooner you finish the sooner we go back inside Stevie."

It seems that your logic spurs him back into action, though this time he sits much closer to you even as he hides what he's making from you. You want to say you continued without any more distractions, but that would be a lie. Steve turns out wants to be all over you today, which is no different than any other day if you're being honest, but love fizzes under your skin at the massive wave of love that Steve's sent your way all day. Kisses and flirting and hugging and touching, all slow down your pumpkin carving activities but eventually you finish.

"Tada!" You turn your now-lit pumpkin towards Steve, beaming at the cute glowing vampire. It's not perfect, not at all, but it's bad enough to be considered adorable.

Steve smiles proudly. "Best pumpkin in all of Hawkins."

"Let me see yours." You urge, curious to see what he so secretly worked on.

"Don't laugh." Steve warns, then turns the lopsided pumpkin to reveal a big S + your initial with two hearts on either side. The candle inside makes the letters glow, and it's so silly but so meaningful it brings tears to your eyes. How lucky are you to be so loved by the boy next to you that all he wants to carve into his pumpkin is your initials. "Babe, it can't be that bad." Steve jokes.

You laugh through some tears and shake your head before climbing over his lap. Your hands hold his face gently as you press both your foreheads together, heart pounding and flipping with love. "Do you know how much I used to wish for someone like you?" You ask in a whisper. "And now I have you and your love and sometimes it doesn't feel real you know?"

"It's real." Steve smiles, leaning in to kiss you gently –a barely there brush of lips. "I love you so much; sorry if it–"

"Don't say sorry." You shake your head, smiling as you look into his eyes. "I love you and how much you want to be with me Stevie. So much."

Steve's smile only grows. "Good." He says before kissing you again, properly this time as his arms go around your waist. "How about we bring these to the front porch? We still have lots to cross out from your list."

You made a list with all the fall themed things you wanted to do in October, the pumpkin patch was the first and carving the pumpkins was the second. There are about ten more to do. "We can make pumpkin bread." You nod, slipping off Steve's lap and grabbing your vampire.

"We can watch a movie while we wait." Steve suggests, trailing behind you inside the house.

"You just want to make out on the couch, Stevie." You glance at him over your shoulder.

"Is that a no?" He asks to which you shake your head; he already knows the answer

"When have I ever said no to your puppy eyes?"

✶✶✶✶

i hope you liked this! feedback and reblogs are always appreciated🥺

masterlist

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington blurb

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perpetuallyconfused10 · 6 months

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could you maybe write something where hotch and the reader are the only two awake on the jet after a long case, neither of them plan on sleeping so they sit at the back away from everyone and reader is listening to music whilst hotch does paperwork but after a little while he asks what she’s listening to and they end up listening to music together? i really love your writing, the way you write for the reader is incredibly good.

I'm so sorry it's been so long! Full disclosure, this is very different than what you sent in (aka I wasn't feeling cool and mysterious enough to figure out the right music to use) so this is what we have - thank you so much for your request! I hope this did it some form of justice <3 Content Warnings: Mild discussion of injury/Canon-typical violence (non-graphic), Reader is self-blaming, Written quickly and not proofread, Chess References, Aaron Hotchner quotes Kung Fu Panda WC: 1.2k

A Game of Trust

Footsteps sound from down the aisle. You don’t look up until they’ve stopped, right next to you, and Hotch slides into the seat next to yours. Offering him a weak smile, you bow your head and return your attention to the newspaper in your hands.

He doesn’t accept your ignorance as a valid form of dismissal.

“Are you alright?” he says. His voice is low, likely so he won’t wake the team. Even so, there’s a wariness to his expression. He’s approaching you like he would a caged animal, poised to strike at any intrusion of its engineered peace.

Maybe he isn’t wrong. You don’t feel quite as far away from snapping as you usually do.

You nod. “I’m fine, Hotch. Just tired.”

When you bow your head again, the black-and-white symbols on the page blurring just a little, he gently takes the paper from your hands and sets it on the table in front of you both. Even if you were fine before, you aren’t now.

“Hey–” you say, shifting in your seat to glare at him. He’s as composed as usual, his head tilted to one side as he stares you down. As much as you want to stay angry with him, the concern you think you spot in his eyes foils that plan for you.

“I think everyone on this team, and probably off of it, knows that ‘I’m fine’ never means ‘I’m fine’,” he pauses. You watch his eyes flicker towards the newspaper on the table and the frown that tugs at his mouth when he spots the unfinished chess problem you’ve been pretending to work on. “Reid’s okay, you know. He is.”

You follow his line of sight, stubborn enough to try to work on it from a distance. Three pawns, two kings, a rook and a bishop. That’s all there is to it. It’s simple enough, but without Reid’s murmured commentary in your ear, you can’t think your way through it. But Spencer isn’t here. He’s one week into a mandatory leave of six, so you’ll have to solve the problem yourself.

And you try. If you move the rook to the seventh rank…but that doesn’t work, black’s bishop takes.

Hotch isn’t pleased. He flips the paper over so you’re forced to look up at him. You bought it from the small town the team just closed a case in, as your tradition demands, and you’ve forgotten to rip off the headline. It’s a blaring reminder of the violence you’ve seen over the past five days.

You scoff. “He’s not alright. He took a bullet to the shoulder, Hotch–”

“–Instead of you,” he says, and doesn’t back down when your eyes narrow at him. “That’s the issue, isn’t it? That he went in first? That he got hurt, and not you?”

Your breath hitches, and the frown you’ve levelled at him softens ever so slightly. Patient as ever, Hotch watches you, scans your face whilst he waits for your answer.

It pours out of you in a hapless string of words you’re surprised he can understand. “He shouldn’t have. We should never have split up. I should’ve called for backup–”

Hotch’s voice is soft, but firm. “There was no time for backup. You know that.”

You hate to admit it, but he’s right. It’s been nine days since Reid’s been stuck at home recovering. In those nine days, you’ve visited his apartment with home-cooked meals, watched God knows how many episodes of Doctor Who, and called him every evening you’ve been away on this case. In those nine days, you’ve reconstructed – down to the millisecond – the crack of the gunshot, then Reid’s collapse; the unsub’s, then the warmth of Spencer’s blood staining your hands as you pressed down on his wound.

Hotch is right. There’d been no time to wait for help once the two of you had realised the man you were set to interview was the unsub you’d been searching for, no time when you knew a young girl’s life was at risk. But that knowledge doesn’t make the whole affair sting any less.

“This job is all about calculation,” says Hotch. His eyes trace your face, refusing to let you sink into self-blaming territory. “It’s about decision-making when there’s no time for it. It’s about guessing at the odds and acting on that instinct. Reid knows that better than anyone. That’s why he’s still alive. It’s why you’re here, too, with this team.”

You make no response. Sighing, he takes the newspaper and sets it down between the two of you, then reaches for the pen you left on it. The unfinished puzzle stares at you from the back page.

Though far from your usual self, you can’t resist teasing him just a little. “Thanks, Master Oogway.”

His returning expression is one reserved for the worst of the police chiefs you encounter as a unit, but you swear you see his shoulders sag as much as his rigid posture allows, and his eyes are soft.

“You are too concerned with what was and what will be,” he quotes, deadpan. From the moment the words pass his lips, you know he regrets it. Then, raising an eyebrow, he hands you the pen and stares down at the page in your laps.

Minutes pass without a word spoken by either of you. With a tentative smile threatening to form on your face, you look up at Hotch. “Do you even play chess?”

“Sometimes, with Jack,” he tells you. “Reid wasn’t Gideon’s only student. Someone had to be the guinea pig.”

“Guinea pig?”

Hotch hums. “He got bored, in the end.”

You laugh, and within another half hour, the two of you manage it. It’s far from the five or ten minutes Reid waits before explaining the solution to you, hands flailing as he does, but you’re almost glad for the change. That’s a tradition reserved for the two of you; one on hold, but not finished with.

Rook to the sixth rank, black’s pawn takes. White’s pawn to b7, checkmate.

It’s really that simple. Embarrassingly so. When you finally figure it out, Hotch drags a hand down his face, huffs out a laugh. Something warm builds in your chest that you decide not to question.

You’re not exactly happy, not without your closest friend next to you and rattling off every aviation statistic he knows. But you are somewhat reassured, and you’ve a completed chess puzzle to take to his apartment and gloat over when you next see him.

There’s movement in the seat next to you, and you have to suppress a frown when Hotch gets up and walks back towards the front of the plane. It’s the most he’s moved in an hour. You see him grab a few files from the briefcase on the couch, and then he’s back in his prior position with a pen in hand and a concentrated frown set in place.

You aren’t sure how much time passes, but it’s wordless and comfortable, spent on your end with your head resting against the jet’s window.

The periodic scribble of Hotch’s pen eventually pulls you towards sleep. Before you’re all the way there, you register the distant rustle of fabric. When you wake a few hours later, it’s with a jacket tucked around your shoulders, and your head nestled in the crook of your boss’ neck.

sorry for disappearing for two months! if you sent something to my inbox and I haven't written it, I'm very sorry! It's definitely not a lack of interest on my part, but more time constraints and a limit on how often I end up writing - please feel free to send a request/thoughts my way - even if I can't get around to them, I love reading them :) if you want them written especially soon though, I might not be your best bet!!

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #aaron hotchner x you #hotch x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #ssa aaron hotchner #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotchner x y/n #spencer reid #criminal minds fandom #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfic #criminal minds x reader

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littleliterarylesbian · 3 months

Text

Dear James - 3

| part 1 part 2

(cw for: accidental misgendering, prob the last part that will include this)

Hatred fills every part of him for almost no reason most times. He looks at James, his best friend in the whole world, and sees the last person who saw his sister alive. The person who she reached out to before she died and he didn't respond. And Sirius hates that. Hates him.

Sirius looks at Moony, the love of his life, and can't help the rage that bubbles up in him and he has no idea why. Maybe it's because Sirius doesn't understand how someone can love him after everything he's done, the words he's said, maybe it's because Remus was simply just a friend of hers once upon a time ago.

Sirius just hates Peter in general. How dare that man breathe in this universe after what he's done, after the friends he's killed. Sirius and Peter used to be close, but now every time Sirius sees him, in the newspaper, in old pictures of them, he wants to claw Peter's eyes out before shoving them so far up his arse they reach his intestines.

Sirius doesn't say anything though, he keeps it bottled up, it's better this way. He only unscrews the cap slightly with Remus, during sex mainly, when he can claw and scratch and bite without worry.

He doesn't tell anyone of the dreams, the dreams of a little boy with his sisters eyes and sharp angles and James' hair and smile, a boy that grows up happy and loved.

Sirius still remembers how the face became prominent in his dreams.

Sirius and Remus got into a row again, Sirius stomping out of the flat with harsh words and a 'don't wait up.'

He huffed down the street and does what he does every time he storms out. He stops at the local park. Sitting on a bench and watching children play, like he does so often; too often.

Sirius had always wished that he could be here with another purpose for once, maybe if his sister were still alive he would be here as an uncle, watching a little sprong run around with a big smile and a loud laugh.

He was lost in his day dreams when a body slammed into his leg.

Sirius blinked in shock when small arms wound around him and a small voice, one that clearly has a smile, spoke and Sirius was rendered speechless as he looked down. Dark skin and messy brown hair.

"Papa!" The little voice was French, or at least had a slight accent and Sirius' heart squeezed, "You're back early! How did you-" The little body looked up finally and froze.

Sirius' breath left him. Those eyes were so similar, eyes that Sirius had always hoped to see again.

The boy stepped away with a small frown, one that looked so cute with the baby fat on his face, round cheeks that made Sirius just want the small boy to continue hugging his legs because he wanted to bottle up those eyes, those familiar features, forever.

"You're not Papa." When the boy furrowed his eyebrows in an act that so reminiscent of the dead he once cared for so much he felt like screaming.

He tried to keep it together.

"Who is your Papa?" Sirius asked, and he pretended that his voice didn't crack. The boy didn't notice, or if he did he didn't say anything.

Instead, the boy squinted at him, tilting his head like a dog, like James, "I dunno if I should tell you." the boy said, "Papa isn't very pop-u-lar."

Sirius still couldn't stop looking. Looking at the grey eyes that seemed a bit too big for his face, and the baby fat covering what seemed to be pointed features, and messy hair in a familiar dark brown, and dark skin that seemed to be only slightly lighter then James'. Though it was a cloudy day, so what did Sirius know. It could all just be his mind, playing dirty tricks on him like it always does.

But Sirius still forced a smile, he thinks he was too shocked- haunted maybe- to cry.

"That's alright." Sirius shrugged, "I'm not too popular either."

The boy shook his head, "I dunno. Papa doesn't want strangers to know."

Sirius felt like his skin was crawling. An itch he couldn't escape, because now he has to know.

"How about I tell you my name, then you tell me yours. Then we won't be strangers."

The boy thought about it, but clearly didn't see a problem with Sirius' logic when he puffed up his cheeks and nodded.

"My name is Harry"

Sirius smiled, it was wobbly and his face felt heavy, but now he had a name to attach to the boy's face, a face that he knew he will use in daydreams and sleepless nights.

Sirius is aware of how weird that sounds.

"My name is Sirius."

He watched as the boy's toothy smile turned into a frown, Sirius watched as the boy looked him over before Harry's eyes widened and he took a step back.

Sirius watched as the boy looked to the sidewalk, almost in fear, and Sirius doesn't know what he did wrong.

Harry looked back, "Oh, um, I-" His eyes flicked back to the sidewalk and he cut himself off, eyes widening further and Sirius couldn't look away when the smile bloomed on Harry's face again. The boy started to run away, vaguely shouting back an apology. Sirius was sure he was already forgotten in the boy's mind.

Sirius watched him go. He watched as the small body slammed into a short man, he watched as the man looked down before he leaned down and picked the boy up.

Sirius was too far away to see the man properly, and even if he moved closer all he would see was a vague side profile, but he couldn't help but watch.

Sirius still couldn't be sure as he walked a few steps forward anyway, but the nose looked similar. Like the one he saw every day in the mirror, like the one he saw in memories.

Sirius watched the man walk away with Harry and he felt crushed. Like something was taken from him with no reason for why.

He went home to Remus that day stumbling through the door, alcohol on his breath, and holding back tears.

James looks similar now, as he trips out of the floo, clutching a now wrinkled letter in his hand.

#its been how many months since i updated this au???#whoopsies my bad #anyway part three :]#marauders era #marauders #harry potter #hp marauders #dead wizards from the 70s #dead gay wizards #harry potter marauders #black brothers #regulus black #sirius black #james potter #jegulus #wolfstar #trans regulus black #dear james au #.twrites

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jackie5656 · 4 months

Text

I’ve Got My Love To Keep Me Warm With; Anthony Lockwood

A/N: HEYYYYY. Well if it isn't another six-month hiatus...I fear I've done this too many times to keep apologizing. There are some long-overdue requests in my inbox, and for that I truly am sorry. With college, work, family, I'm not sure how you guys keep up with finding the time or motivation to write. Nonetheless, I just recently re-watched this amazing show, and I'm yet again horrified Netflix canceled it. I put a holiday spin on this and I hope you all like it!

CW: Characters are aged up. I wouldn't be comfortable w/ this if they were played by minors but that's not the case. Let's also pretend ppl don't typically lose their gift til their mid-20s

You're getting ready on the floor of 35 Portland Row's master bedroom. Makeup is littered all around you as you add the finishing touches. The smell of cookies flows from the kitchen all throughout your home, ones you'll decorate later upon Lucy's request. Christmas music sounds from the record player in the living room, crackling every now and again with its age.

Lockwood's leant up against the door frame, moving silently to the worn armchair across you. You can feel his eyes on you, quietly admiring, yet still brooding from a recent look at the newspaper. Kipps and his team were beaming brightly across the front page, having just solved yet another notary case on behalf of Fittes.

"I've told you not to read the papers on our day off, haven't I?" He's pulled out of his trance then, adjusting his slouched shoulders as though he's been caught.

"A bunch of posh showoffs, think their ridiculous uniforms and bureaucratic nonsense makes them superior. I swear-"

"Anthony."

"Yes, darling?" It's through clenched teeth, blinking hard to regain his composure. You brush on your mascara, still chastising when you face the mirror once more.

"It's our day off, isn't it?"

"Because we have yet to find another case-" He stops himself under your look of warning through the glass, fiddling with his rings and straightening. "I suppose it is our day off, yes."

"We don't have much of those, do we?" You approach him, then. Voice soft and sweet, unknowingly easing his tense stature with each syllable. He only hums, forehead pressing into your stomach as you run gentle fingers through his hair, careful not to disrupt the intricately combed strands. "We need this. You need this. So let's make it a good one, yeah?"

"Tell that to George. Why must we do the holiday card today?"

"We're all available, Scrooge. And if I'm not mistaken, this was your idea. Something along the lines of 'it's good for business, people are seeking a company with a personable image, clients need people to relate to-" You only stop your mimicking when he pinches at your side. The overly-posh, deep reenactment enough to bring a reluctant smirk to Anthony's lips.

"I do not sound like that." He tugs at your hips so you'll sit on the arm of the chair he's rested in, keeping an arm wrapped over your stomach and knees to settle you against him.

"Bunch of bureaucratic-" Your own yelp ceases your teasing, the arm that's snaked around you tugging hard enough to have you fall into his lap and victim to his incessant poking at your stomach and sides. Your squirming is no use, both of your laughter echoing throughout the room as you hopelessly swat at his hands.

He stops his torture eventually, avoiding an oncoming lecture on how he's ruined your neatly done hair with his tickling. You're breathless under him, stretching out over him to glance at the other mirror just above the dresser. Even with the reflection upside down, you're able to tell you'll have to redo multiple curls. He's grabbing at you before you can scold him, hand under your head to pull your faces just inches apart.

"Stop it. You look lovely." He's pulling out the charm, of course. Voice low and hoarse, the tone that he knows damn well well sets your skin on fire. He's smug then, knowing smirk playing over his dark features as his eyes dart to your lips and then to yours.

"Looked lovely." You correct, breathless all over again. His eyes narrow, incredulous.

"Can I prove it to you?" He moves only slightly closer, swallowing thickly as his thumb traces your bottom lip. You almost let him, nearly succumbing to his enchantments. Only when his lips are nearly on yours do you turn your head, keen on revenge for his sabotage.

"You've already toyed with my hair, I'll send George spiraling if I had to redo my makeup."

Lockwood, genuine betrayal littered across his face, can't even plead his case before your roommate takes his cue.

"Oi!" His shout rings from downstairs, tinged with impatience and growing irritation. "You two better be fully clothed and picture-perfect in five minutes. The camera's ready!"

Anthony can only bury his face in your neck, sore attitude overcoming him all over again.

****

"Wait!" Lucy exclaims just as the flash of the camera ensues, voice strained with exasperation. "I wasn't ready!" There's a collective groan from the lot of you, George shuffling past the redhead to reset the camera. You take the time to fix Lockwood's collar, dodging his swatting, grumpy hands.

"I assume ghost touch is a more amenable torture than this," he mutters pointedly.

"You wanted the bloody holiday card, Lockwood. And I'm the only one with enough creative vision to make the lot of you look remotely presentable." There's a collective sneer toward him, though he doesn't notice with all his tinkering with the outdated lense. Of course, George had insisted using film would make the photos hold a 'certain sense of novelty' that couldn't possibly be reproduced with less difficult equipment. "Take five, this might take a while." He waves you all off, adjusting his glasses and muttering a string of unintelligible curses as he works.

Lucy turns to you then, biting back a smile as Lockwood flushes under your doting hands, trying desperately to maintain his grouchy disposition. "Where's your chapstick, the strawberry one-"

"You always steal?" You cease grooming your boyfriend, to his relief, in order to tease her. Smiling when she only sticks out her tongue in mock disdain, already headed for the stairs and presumably your bedroom. "Right side of the bureau, just above Anthony's sock drawer." Your tone grows into a shout to accommodate her distance, grabbing onto Lockwood's wrist so he can't escape away to the study.

"Love you lots!" She calls from upstairs, most definitely making more of a mess of the bedroom in her search.

"Would you unhand me, dove? Pretty sure you're cutting circulation." He's got your attention again, face pulled with irritation. The bags under his eyes look particularly apparent this close, a dull ache in your heart at the sight. It's apparent the attitude is only due to all the stress he puts himself under. The pet name a clear sign the animosity is by no means directed at you. You smirk despite him, digging into your back pocket and ignoring his then curious expression.

Only when you get closer does he catch on. Socked feet clumsily stepping on his boot-covered ones to attempt to gain height, your arm reaches up above both your heads. Letting his eyes follow yours, Anthony can't help but let a dazzling smile spread across his features. Stubborn nature no match against the warmth and adoration overcoming him at the slightly crumpled branch above him.

"Is that-"

"Yep." You mutter, straining under the effort to reach above his head. His gaze is on your face then, arm snaking around the smalll of your back to keep you steady. "You're supposed to-"

"Oh, I know. But I'm having so much fun watching this." A small pout puckers your lip at his teasing, tone filled with the familiar mirth and smugness you hadn't known you missed so much with his solemn mood.

"Forget it then, Grinch." Your reaching arm falls to your side, attempting to push at his chest to force distance between you.

The camera flashes just as Anthony pulls you in for a kiss. Soft and sweet, each of you eventually smiling into it.

"I'm not developing that one." George frowns, adjusting the lens before shooting a pointed look to Lockwood, who loosens his hold only slightly on you. "You've got shade 205 right here, mate." The curly-haired boy draws an imaginary circle around the entirety of his mouth. Anthony scrubs his sleeve across his face at George's comments. Flushing as you laugh into his chest.

Taglist: @sunshineangel-reads

#anthony lockwood #lockwood and co #lockwood gifs #george karim #lucy carlyle #lockwood netflix #lockwood and co netflix #anthony bloody lockwood #anthony lockwood imagine #anthony lockwood fluff #anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x you #merry xmas #christmas fic

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kasagia · 7 months

Text

The last time

Pairing: William "Billy" Russo x fem! reader Summary: You're done being the less important one. The one who always had to conform to the big asshole and playboy Mr. Billy Goddamn Russo. And this time you really promised yourself that it's over... but is it? Wairning(s): Billy is toxic, but he loves the reader; the reader loves Billy, but everyone is fucked up; fight; swearing; blood; the reader is a doctor; the reader and Billy argue, but both cannot live without each other; violence; weapon; Inspired by: Taylor Swift - The Last Time (Feat. Gary Lightbody) Nonsense from me: I'm so happy I was able to write this in this week. I hope you like it. 💙🖤 P.S. The next oneshot will be with Darkling (Would've, Could've, Should've), but I don't know when I'll be able to write it. 😅 Word count: 6,5k Taglist: @aoi-targaryen

Find myself at your door Just like all those times before I'm not sure how I got there All roads, they lead me here

When you opened the door, you didn't expect that instead of finding the pizza delivery guy, you would find Billy Russo... or rather, what was left of him.

The hood over his head and his slightly lowered head were unable to hide the scars on his face. You notice that over time they have become... less visible... at least not as angry red as they were in the media after they published the fugitive's photo.

Yeah. You saw the news. (And talked to Maria.) You know what happened.

Maybe you didn't want to deal with a man who had broken your heart many times over the years, but you couldn't just pretend he didn't exist.

His face, his name, even that stupid nickname, Jigsaw, were everywhere. In the newspapers, on TV, on the internet, in your old photo albums and even in your fucking dreams. And now he was standing in front of you. The shell that remains of a one and only Billy Russo.

"May I... may I come in?" he whispered, staring at you uncertainly. You promised yourself that you would slam the door on that scarred face when he came to you... but in your toughts he was more... arrogant... just like he used to be.

"I... I'm not sure." the words come out of you as you look at him, trying to recover from the shock. You thought seeing him in person wouldn't do anything to you. How stupid you were...

"Please... I just want to talk to you. Give me five minutes and then you can sand me back to hell."

You bite your lip. You saw on the news that the Punisher and Jigsaw had teamed up... if Frank could forgive him enough to work with him and let him near Maria and the kids, you could give him that five damn minutes, before you try to kick his ass.

"Only five minutes, Russo." you say as you let him in.

Closing the door behind him, you wonder how far you've fallen by letting him back into your home… but from the way he looks around your place hesitantly, avoiding looking at you, you wonder who's really lost their dignity here.

I imagine you are home In your room, all alone And you open your eyes into mine And everything feels better

"You... you look beautiful." he says as he finally looks at you for the first time since your… rather tumultuous breakup.

"You wanted to talk." you say, crossing your arms as you lean against the dresser and stare intently at the man sitting on your couch.

"I… wanted to come to you after… all this shit. I… I could have lost my fucking memories somehow, but I think you've embedded yourself in my brain more than anything else. I went to your apartment, but you moved away." he admits, avoiding your heavy gaze to stare at the coffee table. You see a sad smile on his face as he stares at the pile of books and papers that were almost always present in any available space in your apartment. Some things don't change.

"I did." you say, closing some of your patient files from him so he can't analyse where exactly you work after you quit your job at Anvil as their private doctor. You collect papers and put them on your desk, turning your back to him. "Some people would get the hint. Did Frank throw out what was left of your brain by smashing your head against a mirror?"

You know it's a low move on your part, but you can't resist making him suffer. And by the way you suddenly feel his warm body behind you, you know that turning your back on your former marine and murderous ex wasn't such a smart idea. You swallow and turn around, crossing your arms to stare defiantly at him.

He is angry. You see it in his eyes. For some strange reason, instead of throwing you against the wall, he decides to close his eyes and take a few calming breaths.

And the part of you that still cares about him reminds you that he never laid a finger on you. Screaming, shouting, verbal threats were options. However, he never lost his temper enough to actually try to hurt you... but maybe you should stop testing your luck after all?

"Well... I... I think he finally put something into my empty head." you shift your puzzled gaze to him. You thought Frankie and Billy would go back to fighting like vicious dogs, trying to kill each other. Apparently, things have changed more than you originally expected.

"And here I thought that no one would be able to get through your thick skull."

"I'm going to therapy." he blurts out. You frown. Well, this wasn't at all what you expected when you saw Billy again. "To… sort it all out." he says, not breaking eye contact with you.

"Well… good for you. But I assume you didn't come here just to brag about it."

Billy shakes his head and takes a step towards you, watching your reaction. You tense up, but then relax as your body subconsciously takes in the scent of his perfume, which after all reminds you of (ironically) safety.

"No. I don't. I... I'm here to ask you if..."

"Stop it. Whatever you are about to ask me, my answer is no. I don't want to have anything to do with you." you interrupt him before he makes any suggestions for you to consider. "Not after what you did to me, to Frankie, to Castles. I'm glad you're on the mend, but I don't want to know you, Russo."

"Y/N, please..." he sighs pleadingly and reaches up to cup your cheek. You grab his hand before you can feel his fingers on you in a tender gesture that so often melted your heart for him.

"DON'T... just leave. Do one damn thing for someone else's sake and just leave. Let me be as I was." you say, glaring at him and internally cursing yourself for the tremble in your voice.

Somehow you win this battle of hurt glances because the next thing you hear in the room after his heavy breathing is the door slamming as he leaves. You are left alone. You're shaking with the emotions that are flowing through you now. You put your hand to your mouth and cried quietly.

Billy fucking Russo always had to come and mess up your life like a damn master.

And right before your eyes I'm breaking, no past No reasons why Just you and me

You come back from your shift at the hospital to find Frankie sitting outside your apartment door.

"One more such trip to the past, and I swear I will take a dog from the shelter and threaten you with it. What do you want, Frank?" you ask, crossing your arms and glaring at the Punisher.

"Nice to see you too, Doc. Have you finally learned how to sew people up, or are you still torturing them?" he asks with a mischievous smile, standing up and walking over to you.

"It was only once in Afghanistan, and in my defence, you were squirming like a dog in a nettle. Besides, it's not my fault you fell on knives because you stumbled like an idiot after the action was over."

The man laughs and pulls you into a hug. "It's been too long. Too bad you fucking ran away from Russo all the way here, I hate coming back to this town. By the way, Maria and kids missed you too."

"I spoke to them just yesterday on Skype. Besides, somehow this distance doesn't stop you from harassing me. And not only you. Billy was here two weeks ago." you say, leading him into your apartment. You give him a stern look as he walk inside. He rolls his eyes at me but bends down and takes off his shoes before walking further in.

"I thought so. He's been looking like shit for two weeks. I'm sure he now consists of 70 percent alcohol. Lisa wondered if his corpse on the couch was starting to decompose enough for Maria to let her perform an autopsy on him." you smile at the mention of your goddaughter. That's your little girl.

"If you tell me you're here to stand up for him, I'll kick you out of my apartment. The idea of letting him be part of your family again after all this shit he has done is sick. You're a fucked-up man, Frankie."

"Y/N, it's not what it looks like."

"Frank damn it, he almost helped kill your family! If I hadn't let Maria talk me into going with you that damn morning to the Central Park and forgave him after seeing those fucking eyes of a broken puppy, he probably wouldn't have lifted a finger to save Maria, kids and you!"

"I thought so too, so I shattered up his face, and we did a lot of shitty, sick things to each other, but believe me, it's not that simple. This fucking mess around us... is partly his fault, but not in the way we first assumed. He's still my brother… he's still our Bill."

You sigh, running a hand through your hair. You were fed up with it all. All this drama that's going on around Russo. Sometimes I wonder if it wouldn't have been better if they'd never called you in to stitch up that damn Marine and you'd never met him...

"I don't care, Frank. He hurt you. For money. He can go and keep selling himself like a whore." you say bitterly and walk past the man standing in the middle of your living room. You go to the bar and pour yourself a glass of something stronger.

"You can't be serious."

"I fucking am, Castle." you reply dispassionately, drinking the alcohol in a gulp. You pour yourself another glass and sit on the couch, watching the conflicted man in front of you.

"Come on. It's you and Billy. You always came back to each other. After every shit, big fight and breakup. Like a damn Ross and Rachel."

"For the last time I'm telling you, stop fucking watching Friends with Lisa and Maria, it's our show. Besides, this isn't damn Friends or any soap opera, Frankie. Billy fucked up. Ultimately. Nothing will change that, so just fuck off or accept it. God! You're taking our breakup worse than that cold bastard." you laugh bitterly and finish your glass. You set it down on the coffee table with a bang and run a hand through your hair. No. You won't get drunk again because of that damn asshole.

"Bullshit. He's a mess… I've never seen him like this."

"Do I look like I care?" you ask him, raising an eyebrow defiantly.

"You fucking liar, you couldn't stop loving him overnights."

You don't answer right away. He was right. You couldn't stop loving someone who was so deeply embedded in your soul, who saw all of you and became a part of your heart so easily... but loving Billy hurt you more than staying away from him. And for once in your life, you just want to feel at peace and be somewhat happy. Even without Bill by your side.

"If you want something, you better fucking say it or get the hell out." you say, not looking at him as your attention is drawn to your hands instead of the man standing in front of you.

He sighs, tightening his grip on the chair. You see his white knuckles, and for a moment, you think he's going to break the back of the chair. He sighs suddenly and relaxes his muscles, staring at you with a less angry look.

"I need your help."

This is the last time I'm asking you this Put my name at the top of your list This is the last time I'm asking you why You break my heart in the blink of an eye (Eye, eye)

You imagined your reunion with everyone a little worse. Maria and the kids were in a safe house outside the city, but it was nice to meet the rest of your old friends (in the case of the murder of the last of Rawllins' men, but hey, people talk about different things, right?) And it was really nice... until Billy returned to the apartment.

As soon as his dark-brown irises met yours, an unpleasant, awkward silence fell in the living room. You felt not only his gaze but also the curious gazes of the others as they glanced between the two of you.

"What the hell is she doing here?" he asks, shooting an angry, betrayed look at Frankie.

"Don't worry. I'll be gone as soon as I make sure the Castles are out of any danger. I don't really feel like seeing your face too." you say, giving him a defiant look. You turn your head away from him and towards Micro as quickly as you can.

Billy had dark circles under his eyes, a paler face than usual, and obvious signs of sleep deprivation. You'd care if he was more than just a piece of trash who betrayed people close to him. Yet you still cared.

However, the man does not give up easily. He walks over to you, stands in front of you, and takes your chin in his hand to make you look at him. If you didn't know better, you'd think you saw pain in that son of a bitch's eyes.

"You don't have to look at me from the hiding place where we put Maria and the kids, so get your pretty ass out of here and don't cause us any more troubles than we already have."

"How dare you talk about them after what you did?!" you growl at him in anger, pushing his hand away and standing up to face him. "All the trouble we're having is because you're a selling-out motherfucker who betrayed the only people in this world who fucking cared about you!"

Billy clenches his fists and takes a step towards you, leaning towards you. You both breathe quickly, shooting each other hostile glances, waiting to see who will break away and attack first. The tension in the room is so great that you can almost feel sparks flying between you. Frank quickly steps between the two of you, gives Billy a stern look and turns to face you.

"Save the lovers' quarrel and make-up sex for later, okay? Billy, Y/N is coming with us. Y/N, you're not trying to kill Billy until we do what we have to do, and it's best not to argue with him at all. Same with you, Bill. Can you do it, or are you resentful young brats who will be at each other's throats after a breakup?" he says, looking between you two. You huff, crossing your arms and staring at Castle.

"And since when did you become such a responsible asshole, Frankie?" you ask mockingly, raising an eyebrow in question.

"Since we've been planning a glorious murder at those, who tried to kill my family." you sigh and nod. He is right. Killing these bastards is your priority. You can't let your feelings for that asshole who still manages to get under your skin somehow complicate your already difficult mission.

"Fine. Just keep him away from me." you growl in anger and walk past Billy, elbowing him as you go to get ready for your 'mission' with the boys.

And if you looked over your shoulder, you would see a dark brown irises staring longingly at your retreat towards the armoury silhouette.

You find yourself at my door And just like all those times before You wear your best apology But I was there to watch you leave And all the times I let you in Just for you to go again Disappear when you come back Everything is better

A ring at your door at 2 a.m. should make you suspicious.

You should pretend to sleep and finish studying for the last exam that separates you from your desired diploma. You promised yourself that after completing your specialisation, you would leave the army and move to a state hospital. You were fed up with gunshots all around you. For now, you were well on your way to shedding your soldier's uniform and permanently donning a doctor's coat.

You were one exam away from your dreams... and one Billy goddamn Russo who was standing outside your door.

Before you could close it in his face, the man stuck his shoe between the door and the frame. You curse under your breath and open them again to meet this hot damn asshole on your doorstep.

"You shouldn't open the door at this hour without checking who's behind it." he starts, resting his hand on the door as if to make sure you won't shut it in his face again. Only now do you notice his bag slung over his shoulder. He must have come here straight from the airport as soon as he landed.

"A lesson for the future. What do you want?" you ask dryly, crossing your arms. He looks at you tiredly and sighs. The hand that isn't holding the door is combing through his hair. Dog tags hang from his neck as he bows his head slightly before looking back into your eyes.

"Please... I just want to talk." he pleads, wearing his best apologetic, kicked puppy look.

"We have nothing to talk about. Can you let go of my door now? I have an important exam tomorrow; I need to get some sleep." he smiles slightly. Reluctantly, you feel your chest warm up at that damn cute smile.

"Knowing you, honey, you probably weren't even going to go to sleep, just keep revising the material."

"What are you doing here? There were no more sheets of paper in Afghanistan? The poor postman used to come here with a bag full of letters from you. I felt bad sending them back just because of him."

"So… you haven't read any?" he asks, swallowing and staring at you with those damn eyes you would kill for someday.

"Why? I broke up with you before I left the unit. I was just your sexy doctor, right? Or maybe I'm distorting your words? I'm almost sure that's what you called me while bragging to your colleagues in the unit that you fucked the coldest and most unapproachable bitch from the base."

"These same colleagues saw me rage and fall apart as I was getting my letters back from you. I was the one of us, who was there to watch you leave." he responds to your accusations, and the pain in his eyes almost convinces you to throw yourself into his arms. But luckily, you remember the nights you spent crying because of the asshole in front of you.

"And I was the one who overheard that everything between us was some kind of fucking adventure for the time being until you get to another woman." you growl angrily, trying to slam the door on him, but his hand on it prevents you from doing so. He pushes himself inside your apartment and pins you to the wall, closing the door behind him with a loud bang. Loud enough to have your neighbours hear that.

"It's not true… what was between us… it was the only real thing I ever had in my damn life." he says with a shaky voice and you see tears forming in his eyes. "Neither of us expected what was between us to turn into something more than a few-month fling, but here I am, flitting around without you like a moth searching for the fucking light after spending years in the darkness, which was my life without you. I care about you. More than anything. More than I want to admit, more than I would like. That damn much that I would travel halfway around the world for you, I will grovel at your feet just to be fucking close to you."

You let your tears flow freely as you listened to his confession. You know what the man in front of you has been through—what demons of his past pursued him at every turn. And maybe it's his words; maybe it's those damn, tearful eyes that allowed you to see his vulnerability, hidden for so many years; or maybe you just can't live without him either...

Anyway, you grab his dog tags and pull him towards you for a passionate, tearful kiss as both of you realise one terryfing truth... You need each other.

"This is the last time, Russo." you whisper against his lips as he guides you towards your bedroom, stripping you of your clothes.

And right before your eyes I'm aching, run fast Nowhere to hide Just you and me

"What the fuck are you thinking you are doing?" you ask him angrily as he drags you by your elbow away from the shooting.

Things have gone a bit south. Frank didn't anticipate how much support the group we were supposed to kill would get, and now they cut off your group, and now you were forced to work with Billy to get out of here and kill the people you had to. A very mad Billy Russo in his stupid mask.

"I'm saving your ass. Stay here. I'll take care of the rest." he says, letting go of your elbow as he looks around the room.

"There's no fucking option. You won't play my hero, Russo." you say, and reload your gun.

"You won't distract me. You're staying here. End of discussion." he walks up to you and tries to grab the gun out of your hand. You struggle with him and use the grip he taught you to push him away. After a while, you aim your gun at him. You see a hint of fear in his eyes. You shoot, killing the guy standing in the doorway behind him.

"I'm not you. I don't kill my people." you growl at him in anger and move past him to drag the dead man inside and close the door. Billy is grateful for his mask... at least you can't see his shocked, pained expression.

He pulls up a chair and starts rummaging through the flap of the ventilation duct. During this time, you take the gun and bullets from the corpse.

"I would never kill the Castles." he says, not looking at you as he continues to open the vent. "They are my family... just like you."

"You haven't been my family for a long time." you snort at his seemingly tender words. You shiver when he suddenly jumps from the chair and pins you to the wall. Even from behind his mask, you can see how hurt and furious he is.

He holds your arms tightly, almost in a bruising embrace, as he whispers from under his mask so quietly that you can barely hear his words and his voice shaking with emotion.

"Everything... I've ever done... I've done for you. For us."

"There are no us, Russo." You growl in anger and push his arms off of you. You go to the air vent, but he grabs you by the waist and pulls you towards him. You fight him, even going so far as to rip off his mask, but he still holds you in a tight hug, staring into your eyes.

"I fucking love you; do you understand?! With my entire pathetic existence. I know that now you only see me as a monster and that my face is disgusting, but I can't... I can't lose you. Not you. I can endure everything—insults, your hatred... just... please... please don't leave me." he whispers desperately, cupping your cheek in one hand and resting his forehead against yours. You close your eyes, feeling tears welling up in them. You can't count how many times you cried because of that bastard in front of you.

"You think I care about your scars? I don't give a damn about them. What's keeping me away from you is your ugly inside, Russo. You don't care about anyone suffering as long as you profit from it. I'm disgusted by your personality and by the fact that you were willing to sell out your best friend's family and all the people who cared about you for goddamn money and fame. And I hate you, because somehow, even after all you've done, I still care about your damn ass."

His thumb strokes your cheek tenderly as you let him kiss the tears off your face as you almost fell apart in his hands, which you've missed for so long.

“Y/N, my heart, I swear I would never, ever hurt them. You have to believe me. I wouldn't risk what we have… I wouldn't risk losing you after having no one to care about for my whole messed-up life.”

And you're inclined to believe him. You are willing to forget everything and just accept him back. But then you hear a faint beeping sound. You both freeze, staring at each other.

Billy works fast. Too fast for you. He pushes you into the vent and closes the hatch behind you before you can do anything. After a moment, a quiet explosion echoes from the room below you, masking your frantic scream of his name.

This is the last time I'm asking you this Put my name at the top of your list This is the last time I'm asking you why You break my heart in the blink of an eye (Eye, eye)

Billy was not a good man. He knew it. He had no reason. Life never spoiled him, and everything he worked for he had to tear out with his nails. He had no reason to be good. But what he was about to allow now would seal who he was forever. There would be no turning back. And he knew it the moment he joined Castles in the Central Park.

He actually had nothing to lose. Y/N left him, and it would only be a matter of time before Frank would turn on him. He would be alone again. At least he would have guaranteed his future... however empty it might be. But he always believed that it was better to be depressed in an expensive sports car than anywhere else.

At least that's what he thought until he saw Y/N again, for the first time since their next big (this time final, which he deeply believed) breakup. And God, she was beautiful. More beautiful than ever.

She was wearing that little black floral dress that he loved, and she was joking about something with little Lisa as she dragged her through Central Park and the stands. Little Castle led her towards him.

Quiet: "Don't fuck it up, Uncle Bill." came from Frank Jr.'s mouth, before the kid disappeared, likely going to his father, who was probably already watching him. A young boy had to stop using such words. Maria would have his and Frank's heads for it.

Billy's eyes met yours. He gulped, watching as you walked up to him, and Lisa disappeared, probably going to the hideout where her parents were, watching him and Y/N. He clears his throat as you stand in front of him and gives you one of his practiced smirks... though he doubts he's acting as confident as he should be.

"Hi." he says quietly, staring at your face. His stupid heart beats like crazy as he completely forgot everything that wasn't you.

"Hi." you reply, playing with one of the rings on your finger—a nervous habit that he has despised since he felt the need to put HIS ring on you that you can play with and twirl on your finger when you feel insecure. "It was a long time."

"Indeed." he agrees and puts his hands in his pockets, trying to appear nonchalant. "You look beautiful, how are you?" he asks, as if he didn't have people positioned around you, to keep you safe and out of his troubles... the daily update about your life was the only thing that kept him from losing his mind after... losing you.

"All right. I got this job at the hospital." he knows. He himself made a transfer to the account of the hospital's head so that he would employ you there. Still, a smile appears on his face at the excitement in your eyes.

"I told you it was only a matter of time. You are the best surgeon in the USA."

"Well, I doubt Frank would agree with that." you laugh, and he can't help but join you. Frank was your test subject. A very grumpy test subject. Billy could never complain about being a little too strict or stitching it up too quickly at your beginnings. You were just perfect in his eyes.

"Don't listen to him, he is just a brat." he says, nudging your shoulder gently with his. And suddenly, you both stare at each other. You both linger on the other's lips for a moment longer.

"I missed you, Bill." you admit and his heart starts beating wildly.

He swallowed. No. He can't drag you into his shit. You would be better off without him... but as you stood in front of him, looking at him with those beautiful eyes of yours that he would do anything for, he knew he had lost. And much sooner than he realised it.

He pulls you into his embrace. And when you wrap your arms around him, when you snuggle into his chest, and he inhales your scent, burying his nose in your hair, he knows he's home. He knows that he wants to feel this way forever and that life without you simply makes no sense to him anymore. And if he were anyone else, if he hadn't gone through all this shit in his life, he would have cried right there.

Instead, he pulls you closer to his chest, almost digging his fingers into your back, and whispers softly, his eyes closed tightly:

"This is the last time, I won't hurt you anymore." he kisses your head, sealing his promise. He will burn the world for you. And nothing will stop him.

And as you sit next to him on the bench, across from the Castles, who are teasing you about how you two can't live without each other, he just smiles and texts his people to call off the action. Unbeknownst to you all, he declares war on Rollins, writing to him: "No one hurts my family. That's the end of the deal."

This is the last time you tell me I've got it wrong This is the last time I say it's been you all along This is the last time I let you in my door This is the last time, I won't hurt you anymore Oh-ho, oh-ho, oh-ho, oh-ho Oh-ho, oh-ho, oh-ho, oh-ho

You've been holding his hand since you returned to the Castles' house after his doctors examined him and patched him up. They didn't let you get to him. Something about an emotional attachment would cloud your judgement as a doctor. Stupid bullshit, but there was nothing you could do against Frank's strong grip as he held you in the hallway until you were allowed to carry him home. You're sure Castle had scratches from your nails when you tried to get away to go to Billy.

You shiver when Frank suddenly enters the room and hands you cup of tea. You take it from him without a word with one hand, and with the other, you still hold Billy, waiting for him to wake up. Frank snorts and sits down in the chair next to you, watching you closely.

"He'll get through this. Fortunately, he didn't set himself on fire, he just crashed into the opposite wall." you shiver, ignoring his words as you sip your tea. "Although I doubt he'll have any luck next time if you dump him again. Who knows what he'll do next time just for you to hold his hand."

"What the hell are you talking about?" you ask angrily, shifting your outraged gaze to him. He just shrugs.

"Do you think he let me give him those scars just like that? This is some form of his twisted compensation or punishment. The fact that he was hoping you would magically come get him and patch him up only encouraged him more to stay still as I smashed his face."

"You're fucked up. Both of you. No normal people would come back to being friends after something like that."

"We're all fucked up. Me, because I still see him as a brother. He, because he still wants to be part of my family. And you, who love him despite everything, but leave him at every possible opportunity." you turn your gaze away from him to Billy. He is right. And that hurts the most.

"Every time I promise myself it will be the last time. That I will never go back to him. That this is the last time he breaks my heart without even blinking. One last time I let him back into my life, but I… I just can't, Frankie… I can't leave him, no matter how much he destroys me."

"He thinks he's not worthy of you. That you deserve better." you huff bitterly, shaking your head, trying to fight away the tears.

"There is nothing for me apart from him." you whisper, staring blankly at your linked hands with Billy's. "Not after everything I've been through with him."

"Then stick with it. It's better to be fucked up together." you are laughing. It's not that simple, it never was… or maybe it was you who didn't want to make it such a simple thing.

"You should go to Maria and the kids." you say, wanting to get rid of him. You don't know what you feel. All you know is that you won't leave this room until those dark brown irises look back at you again.

"Will you stay with him?" he asks, and from the heavy atmosphere in the room, you feel like this question means more. He asks if you will stay forever. You lift your hand and gently run through Billy's short hair, observing what happened to him after the two of you were apart... and in fact, you weren't holding up any better than he was.

"Yes... yes I will." you whisper, never taking your eyes off his face. And you feel like something heavy has fallen off your chest. Months of crying, anxiety and apathy passed with the snap of a finger.

"I want to be godfather to your first. And for him to have Frankie as his second name if it's a boy."

"Fuck you, Castle." you say and throw a spare pillow at him. The man laughs as he leaves. He closes the door behind him and you look at the unconscious Billy.

"This is the last time, Russo. I mean that. Don't fuck it up." you whisper and kiss your joined hands.

This is the last time I'm asking you this Put my name at the top of your list This is the last time I'm asking you why You break my heart in the blink of an eye This is the last time I'm asking you this (This is the last time I'm asking you this) Put my name at the top of your list (Put my name at the top of your list) This is the last time I'm asking you why (This is the last time I'm asking you why) You break my heart in the blink of an eye (You break my heart) This is the last time I'm asking you, last time I'm asking you Last time I'm asking you this This is the last time I'm asking you, last time I'm asking you Last time I'm asking you this

The gentle brushing of your hair is the first thing you feel when you wake up. Another is his tight grip on your hands, as if he's afraid you're just a product of his head high on painkillers. You raise your head slowly. His hand slips from your hair and rests hesitantly on your cheek.

"Hello." he whispers, staring at you. And for a moment, you just stay like that, each drinking in the sight of the other.

And your heart breaks when you see him waiting for the moment when you start screaming at him, when you take away the closeness he missed so much.

So against your better judgement and what you should do, you lean in and kiss him sweetly, cupping his cheek in your hand. You caress one of his worst scars with the pad of your thumb as he responds to your kiss. His hands stay stiffly in place as he's afraid to move, lest he disturb this moment between you, to feel your lips as long as possible.

You pull away from him and rest your forehead against his. You close your eyes, catching your breath. You feel his burning, confused gaze on you, but you don't move. You don't say anything. You just sit there, enjoying his touch and his closeness, not thinking about the conversation you need to have.

"I missed… I missed this." he whispers shakily. You feel him burning with the desire to taste your lips one more time, but he maintains some semblance of control and settles for just moving the hand that isn't cupping your cheek to your waist.

"Me too."

"I know I screwed up. But… I will never… never again…" you kiss him again, interrupting him. You brush away the tears that fall down his cheek with your thumbs and gently brush your nose against his as you end your kiss.

"Shhh... I know." you whisper, straddling him, needing to feel him as close to you as possible after everything that happened. You were both shattered, but maybe you could put each other back together?

"Are you sure?" he asks, swallowing. You nod and bury your face in the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent. He strokes your back slowly, drawing patterns with his fingertips under your blouse. You shiver at the feeling of his touch on your skin.

"This is the last time, Russo. Either we succeed or... it's over. And I mean it. There will be no great quarrels and returns, no appearances on the doorstep of the other at midnight. We'll either be honest with each other... and make it work... or we won't be together at all. You understand? We're at the top of each other's lists, or not at all. I don't want anything less, any toxic love, any blaming each other, and all that bullshit. We take each other and try to do something with us, or we end it."

He nods and pulls you closer to him, digging his fingers into your back, anchoring you to his chest.

"Deal. I hope you know, you just stuck with me forever, because I'm not leaving you." you lift yourself gently from his chest to look at him. Your eyes water as your eyes meet and for the first time in a long time, you allow yourself to fully express your feelings to him.

"Just... don't make me ask you this again... don't hurt me. Please."

Billy pulls you into a tender kiss, showing you all the love and devotion he has for you. Trying with your actions to ensure that this time will be different, that you will never suffer because of him again, that you will never run away from each other again, that you will never watch the other one leave again.

"I'm nothing without you. Trust me. I tried to live without you and look how it ended." he jokes, and in any other situation you wouldn't find it funny, but now, fueled by the high of being with him again, you giggle stupidly into his neck. Billy smiles fondly and strokes your hair, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"Break my heart again, and it will end worse for you. I have connections in the mortuary, Russo." he huffs, undeterred, and pulls you closer.

"Please. As if you didn't fly across two states just to stitch my face together because you didn't believe in the competence of the doctors at the hospital." you blush as you realizes that he knew about your moment of weakness after you found out what happened to him after his fight with Frank.

"How did you know?"

"I'd know your stitches anywhere." he says with a shrug and pulls you in for a kiss.

Maybe this really was the last time after all… and this time you will stitch the scattered pieces of both of you together for good.

162 notes · View notes

the-doomed-witch · 9 months

Note

hey boo, can u make 1800's reader and married nat having secret affair but reader convinces nat to run away with her somewhere else where they can live and love peacefully, inspired by ivy and the lakes

MAGNIFICENTLY CURSED

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: You question your need for running away with the woman you love passionately, but her dreamy desires do it for you anyway. // based on ivy by Taylor Swift; the lakes by Taylor Swift

Word Count: 1.0k

Warnings: 18+ ONLY MINORS+MEN DNI. set in the 1800s, infidelity, homophobia + closeting, allusions to smut not really described, nat is like a whole ass poet bro i will cry 😭

SEND ME REQUESTS BASED ON TAYLOR SWIFT SONGS

Author’s Note: hi anon, i hope this justifies your request <3 obviously this is emisue-dead poets society-anne with an e-elizabeth bennet coded bc i’m a raging lesbian with an obsession with the 1800s for no reason at all🤭

MASTERLIST // NAVIGATION

— ✦ —

Stealing glances with Natasha was the glory of her. She was a distinguished woman, known to be married to one of the most revered men in town. The ladies at the lunch discussed stories of her well established marriage, but no one knew the truth except you, and Natasha.

Sometimes you would go to meet her, with the excuse of needing to talk with her clinquishly. Her husband was a fine fellow, a gentleman who’d welcome you to their warm domicile, and let you take your time alone with his wife.

On the days when your blood boiled with envy of his nauseating smile, you’d meet her in forbidden places, near rivers of estrangement, and away from the common folk.

She held no love for him, you weren’t oblivious like the neighbourhood women. What made you bitter was the way he was associated with her throughout the town. He was the one credited with your efforts of making her the happiest woman around.

Oh how you longed for Natasha to be known as your lady.

But it’s worth struggling for, when she touches your lips, when she kisses them, and when her hands entangle with yours. “My most beloved,” she addresses you every time before she dares to break the space between the two of you. You respond, “Yes, my lady.” before leaning in.

It’s been years of meeting Natasha in darkness and in delight, touching her as if speaking of poetry. Your hands find their place in the heat beneath her gown, leaving her to the euphoria of gushing. She does the same for you in return, sometimes sitting on her knees to have a peek of what her fingers feel.

You have a rendezvous in the privacy of her own house, while he’s patiently sitting on the porch, doing something like pretending to read a newspaper. She sighs loudly against your kiss, it’s almost romantical.

He knocks on the shut door, asking if everything was alright. You break your contact with her abruptly, and answer him with a loud, stern voice, “Yes, Natasha is trying a new corset I brought along with me. Nothing to worry about.” He walks away with not a single penny of care, unbeknownst to everything you could do only if his wife had her corset taken off.

“I sense something bizarre about you today, my love.” she remarks, pushing your back against the stone cold wall, opposite to which is sat the notorious husband. To think the two of you could be vulnerable within inches was a terrifying thought. “I don’t think standing here is a good idea..”

“What would he even do if he finds us out? He can burn this house all he wants, at least my death greets me with you in my arms.”

“Natasha…”

“Tell me what is troubling you, my Y/N. What is so tragical that I can’t take it away from you?”

Her poetic mouth never failed to leave you enraptured. “W- well, all I've thought of since the past nights is running away. I mean to take you along, but I’m troubled by all the presumed consequences.”

“You meaning to take me along is singularly the greatest thing I’ve heard. To be with my muse, in a place where all the poets went to die, is a privilege I'm blessed to have.”

“I don’t belong, and Natasha, neither do you, you understand it, and I know it. But going out into the wild, with no shelter to take? I’m worried to death.”

“Again, my beloved, at least death greets us with you in my arms. I don’t fear it.”

You entwine your finger in her fierce red hair, and pull her face close to yours till you can hear her breathe and feel her heart pound against your chest and tell her, “Your musings, God, they make me want to be with you all the time, alone. Your poetry is the sole reason I live, dearest.”

“You’re the sole reason my poetry lives. You’re my muse, Y/N.”

You push her against her vanity, with an attempt to taste her delicacy, this time not confining her sounds to your secrecy. You lift up your leg, to give Natasha a place for grinding slowly. The skirt of her apron is lifted, along with her pale yellow dress.

The door smashes open, with her husband walking in, “You’ve been alone for far too- What is going on here?!”

Natasha speaks in a fake pleading voice, “Sir, let me explain to you.” before she gives you a long kiss, and grabs your hand. She squeezes your palm, hinting you to follow her along.

His chin falls agape, the green nerves of around his wrist pop out, irefully.

“What monstrosity is this, Natasha? I thought you were a pristine lady, but evidently you’re a disgustful woman! You should be- Get away from her Y/N!” He comes forward to push you away, but she doesn’t let him finish, and runs out of the house with you.

You hold up your dress to make yourself a room to run with her through the fields. After fleeing for a while, you notice he has missed the trail. So she tugs your arm again, making you run till you reach the illustrious lake, till you’re out of breath.

She laughs as you hold her in an embrace, and screams towards the deserted forests and mountains on the other side of the lake, “I can feel the freedom in me. I can feel it in my blood!” Her voice echoes back at you.

You join her laughter, eyes filled with tears, and cry out, “I am in love with Natasha! I am a woman, and I wholeheartedly love another.” She pecks your lips repeatedly, till you can’t stop laughing and hold her blushing red cheeks away from yours, “We’ll find ourselves a home, we’ll find us a way to live. I promise you.”

You lace her gentle hands with yours. They’re cold with the breeze and the disquietude. You grasp her untamed heart, and she cleaves on to your pain.

#skye’s taylor swift themed drabbles #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff fluff #black widow #black widow x you #black widow x reader

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shankschewtoy · 1 year

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Hiii :D

Wanna req some modern au Kid, Mihawk and Shanks with a s/o who always manages to zone out at the worst time possible, (like they're driving and stopped at a red light, not realizing that what seemed a moment later the light turned green and everyone is beeping at them or they're being late, smth distracts them and they literally just freeze in place lost in the most off topic thoughts ever) hcs or scenario, all's good with me gosh I zone out way too much

Gosh sorry for the long ask and since I'm here I just might remind you to go drink some water and take care of yourself, cuz we need ya and your hilarious writings here, to brighten up our days yk? ( ˙꒳˙ )

love ya <3

a/n - ERROR HOW HAVE I BEEN LAUGHING FOR A SOLID TEN MINUTES AT THIS ASK SUEBDHBDHDBD 😭😭😭😭 awww I’m so glad that I can brighten up your guys’ days that really brightens mine 🥺💜💜

Warnings ⚠️ - cracky, g/n reader, modern au, shanks doesn’t have an arm (let’s just say it got bitten off by a shark because he thought drinking beer while surfing was a brilliant idea)

- watch him ban you from driving 💀

- last time you decided to drive to a coffee shop was the last straw for the poor man

- “Y/n please keep your eyes on the road.”

- *minute passes, now it’s a green light*

- he’s looking at a newspaper while people behind you guys are honking

- you had taken sight of a beautiful monarch butterfly, cruising around just outside your window

- you didn’t even realize the light had turned green

- Mihawk was about to get out of the car and go punch some people for honking but then he realized the light had been green for minutes, and you two were holding up the biggest line of cars he’d ever seen

- “Y/n! It’s green-!”

- He undid his seatbelt and climbed into the seat with you, hitting his head on the ceiling while simultaneously giving himself a bad back

- he pressed the gas while you stared at the butterfly, and you snapped out of it when you realized the car was moving, and Mihawk’s huge ass was right in front of your face

- “Mihawk what are you doing-“

- he sighed and kept driving forward until the light from before turned red right as he started going

- Cars from the right were about to crash into you too when you started screaming at him to go faster

- “MIHAWK GO GO GO GO GO-!”

- “THIS DAMN CAR WONT GO ANY FASTER! GET ON MY LEFT SIDE!”

- he was saying that to protect you, so that he would take most of the damage if you both were hit

- Luckily, you two made it to the next intersection just before getting hit, and there was a long silence in the car on the way home

- “… you’re banned from driving.”

- “BUT-“ “I don’t want to hear it.”

- “thank you for protecting me, don’t pretend like you didn’t do that 😏”

- “😐😑😐”

- he ignored you for about an hour after that (he wasn’t mad, just terrified)

- shanks is a horrible driver himself, so he gets it! He’s usually drunk while driving anyways!

- zoning out is totally fine because usually he’ll just stare at you and think about how beautiful/handsome you are 🥰

- today you both were driving to a movie, you had gotten a nice cup of coffee just before as well :)

- shanks was staring at his phone, struggling to figure out where the fuck he put the tickets

- you saw the most awesome skateboarder who was doing tricks along the sidewalk, and you managed to turn sharp left, almost straight into the sidewalk

- shanks immediately grabbed the wheel with his arm and swerved back, but the absolute boiling hot coffee cup was slipping through your grip

- poor shanks saw that and was starting to panic

- “Baby i only got ONE ARM-“

- the hot coffee spilled all over his lap and this idiot started screaming at the top of his lungs

- “BABE MY BALLS ARE GOING TO MELT WHAT THE FUCK WHY IS IT SO HOT?”

- bigass man baby woke you up and you started driving normally again, apologizing to your almost crying boyfriend for zoning out

- “My dick hurts.”

- “Please don’t ever say that again.”

- “BUT IT’S TRUE?? IT HURTS LIKE- HELL!”

- “also what were you looking at out there?”

- “some cool skateboarding guy.”

- excuse me-??

- “A guy?..”.

- “THATS WHY YOU BURNED MY COCK OFF BABE?! AM I NOT PRETTY ENOUGH?!”

- he started shaking your arm and you were literally about to crash, “SHANKS STOP IM GOING TO CRASH!”

- pls he’s a terrible driver just because of the fact that he will literally scream and flip someone off for not using their turn signal

- I imagine him to obey every single driving law except for the one “don’t be a fucking asshole”

- he oftentimes will ask for your help when he’s building stuff, like asking for tools and such

- “babe hand me the wrench.”

- “hammer.”

- “nails.”

- “water.”

- that’s basically what your job is. 💀

- he was welding today, and needed your help to place something at just the right time so he wouldn’t either burn your apartment down or burn his arm off

- “Babe, need it now.”

- you were tuned out completely, and of course at the absolute perfect time 🙂

- “babe.”

- he waved his other hand in front of your face to try and get your attention but that didn’t seem to work

- “Y/N L/N HELLO?!”

- kaboom

- smoke filled the room as you coughed and grabbed the thing you were supposed to hand him

- “Kidd you need this thingy yet??”

- …

- your audacity.

- his sllooooooooow turn of his head

- his face was stained with black smoke, a nail shooting out of his work and hitting him in the forehead as he stared down at you with the most dead expression

- you were dead. so dead.

a/n - not me being a little cheeky shit and giggling at my own writing 💀

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givemea-dam-break · 1 year

Note

Hey!! I love your writing and was wondering if i could request a Lockwood x reader where the reader works at another agency, is injured and research-bound while they heal, and they meet Lockwood at the archives (thought it might be cute if he pretends to be researching but is really only there to see them) <333

a/n: yes!!!! oh i love this idea! thank you for requesting and for your support <3 I'm not entirely satisfied with the end, but i hope you enjoy!!

warnings: none gn reader

Carrying a bunch of newspapers and files while on crutches is much harder than it looks, you've found out.

Most of your time at the Archives which was supposed to be spent researching for an upcoming case has been spent, instead, trying to pick up the pile of newspapers you've dropped everywhere. Unless you want to sit on the ground and then try to stand up once you've retrieved them, there's no easier way to collect them off the floor with a cast that stretches from foot to thigh, and the few people in this section seem to be conveniently engrossed in their work.

You huff as you push the heap of information along the ground with your crutch.

Stupid stairs, you think. Miserable people.

But, then, there's a voice behind you saying, "Oh, let me help with that!"

Someone slips past you, bending down to the ground to pick up your research before turning to face you, smiling.

You know this face. It's the same face that you often see grinning in the current newspapers after completing big cases. It's the same face you see at odds with the Fittes teams throughout London. It's the same face you've seen around the Archives before, though it's usually accompanied by one of your close friends, a fellow researcher, George Karim.

This boy is Anthony Lockwood, owner of Lockwood and Co.

You'd recognise that grin he dons anywhere, having grown far too accustomed to seeing it when you read the newspaper in the morning before heading to your agency's headquarters - well, if a tiny studio apartment with a stash of equipment and a consultation table can really be called that. Bunchurch isn't much, but it got you on your feet in a town as expensive as London.

"Thank you," you say, clutching your crutches a little tighter.

"(name), right?" he says. "George's friend from Bunchurch? I'm Anthony Lockwood."

You nod. "I know who you are. You're practically the most famous teenager in all of London."

The smile he gives you is full of glittering white teeth that should come with a blindness warning. "Where are you sitting? I'll bring these over for you."

You point over to your table, which is covered with notebooks, pieces of paper, and multiple pens that have already run out. He takes your items over, and you hobble behind, flushing red when he pulls your chair out for you.

"Just to make your life easier," he says. "I can't imagine how annoying it would be to have a full-leg cast. How'd you end up with it?"

For the moment, he sits across from you. His smile eases the tension in your bones, and you understand why he's so successful. George has always told you of Lockwood's way with charm - it's how they've kept out of trouble - and how people always fell for it like flies in honey. You figured you'd be different, but you realise you're not. You're not mad about it, though. There's something reassuring in the easiness of it.

"I was on a case the other night," you explain. "Just me and this other girl. She got such a fright from the ghost that she tripped over while we were near the stairs on the second floor, pushed me over, and I fell down. I fractured some bones in my knee, or something, so now I'm stuck solely on research. Had no clue it propagated such a big cast."

Lockwood looks like he wants to say something, but changes his mind. "Must be sore."

You give him a look. "You can say Bunchurch is a joke. George has told me exactly what your opinions on us are, but some of us don't have Talents strong enough to constitute working for prestigious agencies such as yours." A pause. "Yes, it is quite sore."

"I don't think -"

"Yes, you do." Your laugh seems to ease him a little. "I think the exact same, don't worry, but they're the best I've got."

"It's nothing personal," he insists. The tips of his ears are curiously red, and you smile.

"No, of course not. Anyways, what brings you to the Archives? Thought George was your research man."

His grin has returned. "George is currently handling something else, so I told him I'd get some research done, although I'm having trouble finding things. I don't know how you do it."

"Well, I've spent most of my time here trying to push a pile of newspapers from one place on the ground to another, so I'm sure I can waste more helping you out if you'd like some help."

"Oh, you will not be wasting your time," he says. "Interesting stuff, this case."

"Is that so?" You raise an eyebrow. "What's the case?"

He looks like he's trying to hold back a laugh. "A cat haunting this poor kid's bedroom."

You snort in response, taking the notebook he hands you. It's not George's handwriting, which is messy and akin to chicken scratch, but rather loopy and pretty fancy-looking. Lockwood's, perhaps. He watches you the whole time, and usually the attention from someone would make you shrivel up and want to hide, but there's an easiness in his company. If anything, you feel bolstered by his attention, like you've done something right and earned it.

"It's in Soho? You must be getting paid a fortune. It's expensive there."

"Not much more than our usual fee," Lockwood says. There's a little undertone to his voice - nerves.

You frown at the writing. "Why are you even taking this kind of a case? It's something the people living there could solve with silver decor and a little bit of lavender in each room."

Lockwood shrugs. "We like checking everything out, I suppose. Getting rid of the ghost completely."

"Well, if you really want to do research on this, there's a section over there, you see that sign at the end of that bookshelf - No, not that one, the one behind it. Yes, that one. You'll find some stuff on Camden, the people who have lived there. Maybe there's a newspaper filing about a cat's brutal death or something."

He's quiet for a minute as if comprehending the words. "Yes, okay. Thank you."

Narrowing your eyes at him, you say, "Where's the case again, Lockwood?"

"Camden, remember? You just said."

"You've made this case up."

"What?" His ears are red again. "No, I didn't."

"Lockwood, I'm a researcher. I know things, like when people are lying. Camden and Soho are two extremely different places. And, well, no offence, but this write-up from your 'consultation' doesn't contain nearly as much as it should."

"Easy mix-up," he insists. "I had a long night."

But, judging from the masked expression on his face, you know you're right.

"George would never pass up doing research, no matter what else he was doing. He isn't handling anything today, is he?"

A moment of silence. "No."

"And you're not here to research a case. Even a six-year-old would know to go to the big sign that says Soho for a case there."

He's looking anywhere but at you, adjusting his tie or playing with the cuffs of his shirt.

"You just conveniently appeared when I needed some help." You think for a minute before smiling. "Anthony Lockwood, did you make up a case just to see me?"

It's a bold claim. You've never properly spoken to him, and you only really know him superficially, through newspapers and George and seeing him from afar. Logically, there's no way what you're saying is true. There's nothing overly interesting about you - no special Talents or hobbies, and your agency barely ever makes the paper. But your claim is right. You know it is.

"I'm not that scary. You could've asked me out for coffee, or something."

That's when his eyes meet yours, and you feel completely entrapped. They're warm and soft and filled to the brim with stories beyond your comprehension.

"And you would've accepted?"

You shrug. "As long as you suggested somewhere nice."

And there's that grin again, but something about it has changed. It no longer holds a building's worth of charm and persuasion. It's gentler, more Anthony than it is Lockwood. You smile yourself, goaded on by his.

"Well, would you like to go to get coffee with me? When you're not on crutches, probably. Or whenever."

"Do you always make up cases to ask people on dates?"

"Would my answer change yours?"

"Probably not."

"So...?" he prompts, and there's a hopeful gleam in his eyes.

"I'll go," you say. "We'll see where we end up."

#anthony lockwood x reader #lockwood x reader #lockwood and co x reader #lockwood and co fanfiction #lockwood and co #lockwood and co netflix #anthony lockwood #george karim #lucy carlyle #x reader #fanfiction #givemea-dam-break

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