#inspired by taylor swift

[anonymityisfunwriter]

I Can See You

"And I could see you being my addiction, you can see me as a secret mission..."

Summary: You and Bucky don't see eye to eye, everyone knows that. They don't know that you and Bucky once knew each other under very different names. And they most certainly don't know that when he looks at you, he can still every stolen moment, his jacket on the floor, notes saying meet him at midnight, you up against the wall with him. No, they don't see that at all. Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Inspired By Taylor Swift Masterlist | Anon's 1K Celebration

"I already told you, I'm only doing this because I owe you."

Six months - that was your promise.

Six months of your time and best efforts.

"And as a part of this favor, you promised to keep an open mind."

And an open mind, you begrudgingly recall. You promised you would keep an open mind about making this a more permanent placement.

Nick Fury was sure that you'd find a home here in the Avengers Compound.

You were fairly certain that you wouldn't - but you weren't going to tell him that.

You hated owing people. Nick Fury even more so. You could bide your time for six months to pay your debt to him. He didn't need to know you had no intention of becoming an Avenger. "Whatever you have to tell yourself, Nick."

"That doesn't sound like an open mind," he admonishes.

You smirk, enjoying the frantic hustle and bustle of the Avengers Compound with your duffle bag slung over your shoulder, "You know that I don't do well in teams. I don't play fair, Nick."

"Never heard that one before."

"But I bet you believe me, don't you?" you retort.

"Open mind."

You roll your eyes, waving him off, "Yeah, yeah, when exactly do I get to meet these self righteous assholes?"

"How does now sound?"

"Like my worst nightmare," you mutter under your breath.

If he heard you, he doesn't let it show. Nick flings the door to the conference room open, revealing two men standing beside each other poring over a case file.

It's not their impressive statures that catch your attention. In fact, the blonde one hardly catches your eye at all.

And if you weren't highly trained and disciplined, a gasp would've lodged itself in your throat at the sight of the brunette you never thought you'd see again.

"Ah, Nick told us we might be meeting you today." The sandy haired super soldier extends his hand out to you. It doesn't escape your attention that the brunette snaps the file shut the moment he sees you. "I'm Steve, Steve Rogers."

You return the gesture, still barely paying attention to the man. Your eyes flicker to Bucky. If you didn't know any better, you'd think he was entirely unfazed by your sudden reappearance.

You're thankful you do know better. You know so much better. 

Bucky's eyes meet yours for a split second, they narrow slightly. It tells you everything that you need to know. You've caught him off guard.

Steve takes Bucky's silence as his cue to interject. He clears his throat, gesturing to his friend, "And this is Bucky Barnes. He's a, well, he's a man of few words."

Apparently, that hadn't changed since you knew him under an entirely different name.

"It's nice to meet you," you say to Steve. Your eyes flicker back to Bucky. His jaw ticks as a wide grin pulls at the corners of your mouth. He's worried that you'll give away his dirty little secret. Your eyes flash over to him, a mischievous gleam that Bucky doesn't miss, "The both of you."

Steve smiles at the change in your demeanor, "Nick filled me in about your little deal. Exactly how long is this trial run going to run?"

"Six months," you confidently reply, unabashedly staring at Bucky. "I'll be out of your hair in six months."

"But we're keeping an open mind, aren't we?" Nick urges you again.

You playfully roll your eyes, a beaming grin on your face, "Of course, Nick. You know, I don't know why, but suddenly, I get the sense that these next six months are going to be a hell of a lot of fun."

"That's an interesting take," Steve lilts.

"She's your problem now," Nick quips.

"Me? A problem?" you gasp in mock offense. You turn to Bucky, who's still yet to say a word. "Do I look like a problem, Bucky?"

Bucky's eyes narrow again. The muscle in his jaw ticks yet again. You swear you can almost hear the sound of his teeth grinding. It's almost enough to make you laugh.

The silence is palpable as Bucky glares at you. Steve nervously laughs, taking a step closer to you. He gestures to your duffle bag, "How about I show you were you can put your stuff down? We'll give you a chance to settle in and you'll meet the rest of the team first thing in the morning."

"Sounds like a plan, Captain."

"Just Steve is fine."

"See?" You call over your shoulder to Nick. "I'm already having so much fun."

You're not surprised that he came to find you minutes later. If you're right, he waited just long enough to make sure he wasn't being obvious. You don't even need to look over your shoulder to feel his lurking gaze far before you see him. "I can see you."

"Why did you lie?" Bucky furiously demands, standing in the doorway of your new bedroom.

You grin to yourself, still turned away from Bucky. "Nice to see you again, Soldat."

"Bucky," he firmly states, his hands curling into tight fists. "My name is Bucky."

"If I recall correctly, you liked when I called you Soldat." You turn on your heel, taking several steps toward Bucky. He knows he should stop you. He knows he should stay as far away from you as possible, as far away from your bedroom as possible. And yet, there's a side of him that wants nothing more than to feel you close to him all over again. He doesn't stop you. He doesn't push you away. Not even when you're close enough to touch him. "Or did it sound better when I whispered it in your ear?" You lean in, your voice dropping to a soft whisper in his ear, "My Soldat."

He does his very best to suppress the shudder that rolls through his entire body. It takes him a beat longer than it should to regain his senses and take a step away from you. He demands again, "Why did you lie?"

You chuckle, finally stepping away and allowing him his space, "Would you prefer I tell your team mates about your history of getting a little too close to your enemies?"

"What makes you think that they don't know?" Bucky challenges. 

You languidly shrug, "We'll call it a hunch."

"I'm not that person anymore." Bucky takes an angry step forward, desperate to convince you that he's a changed man. "I don't keep secrets anymore."

"So tell them," you offer. "What do I care?"

"You cared enough to lie," Bucky shoots back.

"If you want to let your team know that we used to fu-"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence. I'm not that person anymore," he repeats himself. This time, he's not sure who he's trying to convince.

"Then we shouldn't have any problems, should we?" you rhetorically ask.

His eyes narrow, his gaze sharp and ready to kill, "What are you up to?"

"Me?" You gesture to yourself, resting your hand on your chest. "I'm not up to anything. Come on, Soldat, don't you trust me?"

"No, I don't because I know you, and you're always up to something," he bitterly accuses. "You've always got an angle."

"I assume you're talking about that day."

"You sold me out."

"You'll never see, will you?" You roll your eyes at him, waving him off, "I'm simply doing the favor that was asked of me."

"Six months?"

"Six months. And no one will ever have to know. Unless, of course, you can't help yourself."

He scoffs, "That won't be a problem."

"History has a tendency to repeat itself, Bucky," you state, putting an extra emphasis on his name.

"Not this time. Here's how this is going to go." He reaches out, snatching your wrist. His grip is tight enough to force you to pay attention, but not enough to actually hurt. "I'll stay away from you, and you're going to stay away from me. Got it? Let's just - let's keep this professional."

A grin spreads across your face. Your eyes flicker down to the burning grip on your wrist. You like that, even now, even after all these years, you still have an effect on the man you once called yours. "Don't worry, Bucky. I'm as reformed as you are."

That's exactly what worried him.

The months passed as quietly as Bucky could ever bring himself to hope.

Still, you never quite let it rest, never let him rest.

You always had a way of letting him know that you could see him. You could see how he was struggling to contain himself, struggling to suppress every flashback, struggling to simply keep his eyes off of you, struggling to contain all the feelings that he denied he felt for you.

He wondered if you knew that you kept him up all hours of the night. There were so many nights he spent sleep evaded, wondering what would happen if he just knocked on your door. Would you be up waiting for him? Would you smirk that smirk? The one he'd come to love and hate all at once. The one that was haunting him. The one he saw every time he close his eyes.

It wasn't just at night. It was every night. Every day. Every waking moment that you danced somewhere on the outskirts of his awareness. Every time you brushed past him in the hallway. You had to know you were driving him to the brink of madness. 

Sometimes, you barely acknowledged him. Sometimes, you gave him that infuriating smirk. Every single time, he saw it. Every single time, he saw you.

That part of his life was, for lack of a better word, scrambled. And still, he could never forget your touch. That part was crystal clear.

And he couldn't decide whether he loved or hated the fact that it might just be you doing that to him.

It ate at him.

It was a special gift you possessed, he had to admit. You could make him see whatever you wanted him to see, the power to ensnare his senses. The good, the bad, the beautiful, and the ugly. You had the power to do it, to make him see whatever you wanted him to. He told himself that's what it was. It wasn't remembering a long lost love, it was you messing with his head all over again. 

He'd see flashes of the time you spent together once upon a time. His jacket on the floor. Up against the wall with you. Those old, crumpled notes telling him to meet you at midnight. He remembers every second of it. 

But most of all, you. He remembers every whispered sweet nothing. He remembers the anticipation he felt every time he saw you. And he remembers your touch. Your lips on his, trailing down his jawline. Your fingers running over the planes of his chest.

Deep down, he knew it wasn't your powers. It was you. There was no forgetting a touch like that. No forgetting a person like you.

It just another way you tormented him. So few ever escaped the Winter Soldier. Even fewer lived to tell the tale.

Not you. You not only lived to tell the tale, you taunted him with it. After that very first night, where he was, you were. He was never quite sure if it was glorious happenstance or your own doing.

Your very first encounter, you caught him totally off guard - something previously thought impossible. He didn't see you. He didn't hear you coming. He didn't feel you slip past him to reach your target before he ever could. All he remembered was hearing footsteps in the dark street. He knows for a fact you could've disappeared into the night without him ever knowing. He whirled around, searching for the culprit. He saw nothing, no one. 

It should've been quick, an easy kill. Instead, it was the first time he ever failed.

To this day, he swears that he heard your whispered laugh when he realized his target was gone, vanished into the night.

You showed yourself the second time. He was more prepared that time. Not ready for it, but more prepared. The first time his vision failed him, he sprayed the room with bullets.

"Uh, uh," you condescendingly tutted, allowing him to see you standing before him. "Can't get rid of me that easily, Soldat."

He saw you standing before him for a short moment, just enough to memorize your face. And then he lost all sight. You stroked his cheek, he remembers that. It was the first time you ever touched him. It was the most tender touch he'd felt in decades.

When he regained his senses, you were gone. Along with his target. 

The third time, he caught you - or you allowed him to catch you. He wasn't quite sure.

"Who are you?" he demanded, pinning you against the wall.

"Poor, Soldat," you cooed at him. It confused him. There was no fear in your voice. For some reason, he knew that if he released your arms from his iron grip, you wouldn't punch, scratch, or claw at him. You wouldn't fight back. You'd taunt him with your touch all over again. And for a reason that was more unknown to him, he really wanted you to. "They truly tell you nothing."

His sight was gone, but this time, he refused to let go. He gripped your wrists hard enough to leave bruises, pinning them over your head, "Let me see you."

"Say please." There it was that taunt that he knew would come. There was a lilt to your voice he'd never forget. In that moment he knew, he was powerless against you and your whims.

"Let me see you. Now."  He grips you even tighter. For a long moment, he still saw nothing. All he could feel was your body pinned against the wall, pinned against him. He softly exhales, his breath dusting over your lips, "Please."

He thought he memorized your face the first time you allowed him to see you, but he was wrong. There was so much he missed. He missed the slope of your nose. How soft and plush your lips looked. The mischievousness shining in your brilliant eyes.

He studied your face again. Over and over. Forcing himself to commit every detail to memory. Your smirk melted into the warmest smile he'd ever seen you wear.

You lean into him, as close as his grip will allow you to. So close that your lips linger a breath away from his. For a moment, he thinks you're going to kiss him. Instead, you speak softly, your breath skating across his lips, "I like you, Soldat. We're going to have fun."

His heart still stuttered. At the time, he didn't know what you meant.

He learned quickly after that.

It was the definition of a whirlwind romance - or as close to a romance as two assassins could possibly get. Long nights spent beside you. Jet setting across the globe for missions, just waiting with bated breath in the hopes that you'd be there. You never talked about what it meant, what you felt, all you had were those nights. Somewhere in those nights, he stopped being Soldat, and he started being your Soldat. 

So was it you? Were you the reason he could still see it?

Or was it him? Was it the fact that he could never really let those nights go?

He was a different person than the one you knew all those years ago. He was on the straight and narrow. He stayed out of trouble. You were the epitome of trouble. You sold him out the moment it was convenient for you. So why can't he let you go?

You caught him off guard when you showed up here. He was determined to make sure that didn't happen again. He just needed to be on his best behavior.

He knows you've been watching him - but he can see you, too.

You make a point to brush past him in the hallway on the way to the conference room. He thinks you can't see it, but you've been watching him closely.

You can see the waver of his Adam's apple, the way his eyes dart in your direction when you pass him, the way his jaw ticks shut as if he were doing his very best to contain himself.

Your days here on the Compound were dwindling down to your last few weeks. He still couldn't figure out why he couldn't let you go.

Even as he sits across the conference room table, you overwhelm each and every one of his senses. You pretend like you don't see him taking the seat directly across from you. Instead, you lean closer into Sam.

Sam grins at you. "So you can show me anything?"

"Anything," you promise, driving Bucky mad by using that torturous smirk on Sam. 

Bucky's not sure what Sam sees. It could be anything. A powder white beach on some far off coast. A meadow filled with fragrant, vibrant flowers dancing in the daylight. You could make him feel like he was plummeting to his death. You could make him feel loved for the first time in his life. You could let him know a betrayal like no other. 

He shakes away the runaway train of thought, focusing on the far off look in Sam's eye and the look of wonderment painting his face, "Whoa..."

"Bucky," Sam calls, his voice filled with laughter as you use your gift like a party trick. "Come try this! She's like a human VR."

"As tempting as that is," Bucky sarcastically remarks, crossing his arms over his chest, "I'd like to get this meeting over with."

"Alright, team," Tony calls out, beginning their latest team meeting. "Fury added another assignment to our docket. Black tie, intercepting a black market intel deal. You get in, you get out. Should be easy enough."

"Whatever you say," Bucky mutters under his breath.

"Barnes," Tony smirks. "I'm so glad you agree. You're up."

"What? Why?" Bucky demands. 

Tony nonchalantly shrugs, "Because I said so."

"Asshole," Bucky grumbles.

Tony's eyes flicker over to you next. In that moment, Bucky freezes. There's no way Tony know about the two of you, but it certainly feels like Tony's doing this just to punish him. "And you can take the human VR with you."

"No," Bucky sharply refutes, gripping the table so tightly he's sure Tony will have to get a new one. "I go, I go alone."

"Sorry, Barnes, we'll need more than brawn to get us into that gala."

Six months. Almost six months passed and he'd done everything in his power to avoid this. To avoid being alone with you. To avoid working in close proximity to you and the aura of temptation and betrayal that shrouded you.

The number of favors he now owed to his teammates was proof of it. He had no interest in testing the limit of his will power. "Then, I'll take Wanda."

Tony crosses his arms, shaking his head and looking far too pleased at Bucky's discomfort, "Nope, she's needed on a different assignment."

You smirk, tongue running over your teeth like a predator watching their prey fall into their trap. "Careful, Bucky, I'm starting to get the sense that you don't want to work with me."

Bucky's eyes dart to you, grimacing at you, "Whatever."

"Oh, I'm sure we'll have a lot of fun."

"Bucky," Steve starts, tightly gripping his shoulder as the room filters out. "What's the problem?"

Bucky glowers at you as you saunter out of the conference room. Of course, you're far too pleased with this outcome. You make a point to grin at him as rage rolls off of him. "I don't trust her."

"Why? She's never given us any reason not to."

"Because -" Bucky starts, faltering after only a word. He can't bring himself to say why. That was between you and him. A memory he buried long ago. "Forget about it."

But he remembers. All of it. He remembers the moment you betrayed him and broke his heart all too well. 

"My Soldat..."

He sighs in relief, he finally stops pacing the floor of your safe house. You asked to meet days ago and you had yet to show up. Weeks had passed without hearing from you. You'd never gone this long without making yourself known. Finally, here you were, back in his arms where you would always belong,"It's been too long. I was beginning to worry."

"Don't ever worry about me, my Soldat." Your words are sharper than he's ever heard from you, it shocks him. You caress his cheek, fingertips trailing down to his jawline, your words soften to a gentle whisper, "Don't ever worry about me."

He bends down and kisses the palm of your hand, "I will always worry. For you, I will worry for as long as I live."

You smile, resting your hand over his beating heart. That's why you were doing this. You made deals with people you hated, resigned yourself to a life always looking over your shoulder, and sealed your fate, all to keep his heart beating, all to give him the long, happy life he deserved.

"And for that, you'll always be my Soldat." You kiss him with everything you have left. Your last kiss. A goodbye kiss. Because if you loved something, you set it free. If they came back to you, they would always be yours. And now, you were setting him free. And he would never forgive you for this. He would never be yours again. "And that's why it had to end this way."

"What are you talking about?"

You back away from the window of your safe house, "I'm sorry."

"What?"

And that's when the SHIELD agents swarmed.

It was a moment hard to forget. Yet it was equally hard to remember, to remember why he didn't trust you, to remember why he could never allow himself to let his guard down, not when you were so good at taunting him. He was sure you were taunting. He knew it from the very moment you stepped into the armory in a red dress that nearly stopped his heart.

You make it a point to saunter past him, tossing a laugh over your shoulder, "Don't worry, Soldat. I'll be on my best behavior."

"I won't hold my breath." Flashes of old memories race through his head. This time, he's sure it's you. His eyes snap up to you with a glower, "You said you were going to be behave."

"I said I was going to be on my best behavior," you correct, making a show of picking out your knives for the night. "This is pretty much as good as it gets."

"That's what I was worried about," Bucky sighs to himself.

"Lighten up, Soldier. It's my last night, I'd like to have just a little fun."

"Last night?"

"That was the deal."

Bucky's eyes dart away from you as you lift your leg up. The fabric of your dress slides up as you strap a small dagger to your holster. He knows you're doing it on purpose to rile him up. That's not what worries him. What worries him is if you're not doing it intentionally. If you're not trying to get his attention and he's just so viscerally aware of you that he can't stop thinking about you. That's what worries him. He doesn't trust himself enough to be this drawn to you. He clears his throat of the knot forming, "So you're not staying?"

"Why? You gonna miss me?" you tease. He remains silent, his eyes unflinchingly forward. "Let's not kid ourselves, Bucky. You didn't want me to stay. Too risky - I might ruin your squeaky clean reputation."

He's absolutely certain that you're the only person that's ever referred to his reputation as squeaky clean. "You're really leaving?"

"It's okay, Soldat."

"I told you not to call me that," Bucky snaps. He's aware that his self control is slipping minute by minute. Every second in your presence is a test of his restraint.

"Do you still remember? Can you still see it in your mind? Or do you need me to show you?"

"Stop." He barks the second a flash of the memory starts playing in his head. He can see himself tossing his jacket on the floor in a frenzy. "That's enough."

You smirk that damned smirk at him again. His fist clenches tightly, the knuckles of his flesh hand white with strain. "You're thinking about us right now, aren't you?"

He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to push the image out of his head, he frantically shakes his head, "Stop it."

"Do you want to know what I'm thinking about?"

"Not particularly," he rasps.

"Liar."

He clenches his jaw so tightly that he's worried he might break a tooth or two as he desperately tries to hold onto his last ounce of self control. He's fighting a losing battle. "I'm not a liar."

"So what would you do? If I touched you right now?" You rest your hand against his chest. "If I got just a little bit closer?"

He hopes you can't hear his heart stutter. "I - I wouldn't do anything."

"What if you knew they would never find out? If we were so quiet and we didn't make a sound?"

"It wouldn't change a thing."

"What if I told you I remember it all? Every night. Every mission. Every time you kissed me."

"I-" His voice falters. Now was his chance. This was it, whether he wanted you to stay or go. Would you stay if he admitted that he never stopped thinking about those stolen moments? Or would you betray him all over again and laugh in his face and smirk that damned smirk with pride at bringing him to his knees? He can't put his finger on it, but in this moment, he doesn't care. He'll take the chance. He swallows the knot in his throat, "I would tell you I remember all of it."

Your hand twitches against his chest. "What?"

"I remember every second. I'll never forget any of it. I could just never figure out: Was any of it real?"

"Can't you see, my Soldat?" Your hand skates past his collarbone, up his throat, coming to rest on his cheek. Your hand caresses him with a tenderness he thought he would never feel again. "It was always real. Every moment of it."

"Then why did you do it?" he softly exhales.

"I had my reasons."

He lunges forward, and in the blink of an eye, he's gripping your wrist and pinning it to the wall behind you, "Tell me."

You grin wildly. You've been here with him before. "Arrogant as ever, Soldat."

"If it was real, why did you do it?" he demands, flexing his grip.

You lick your lips, momentarily debating whether or not to give him the truth. It ate at you for years. From afar, you could live with the knowledge that he might always hate you for what you did. Watching the conflict warring in his eyes was an entirely different battle. You figure, of all the things you could give him, the truth would at least give him some sense of peace. "It wasn't safe."

He loosens his grip slightly, "I would've protected you."

"It wasn't safe for you."

His eyes flash open. "What?"

"You were my mission, Bucky," you finally confess. "There was never anything else - anyone else. It was you. Only you."

He lets go, the shock sending him staggering. Your hand skates down the wall, but he doesn't move back to allow you the space to move. "You were sent to kill me."

You tilt your head at him, "I clearly failed."

"That doesn't explain why you betrayed me."

"Someone found out about us."

He shakes his head, his eyes storming with anger, "No, we were careful."

"Someone knew. I got a nice gunshot in the back to prove it. They knew I wasn't going to complete my mission. They knew I was never going to kill you. I wasn't going to lead them right to you. I didn't know who was watching. I wasn't - I wasn't going to gamble your life until I was sure that they were all gone."

The realization dawns on Bucky almost immediately. Sure, you were one hell of an assassin. Sure, your powers were beyond belief and could take down even the most heinous villains. But not even you could singlehandedly take down the crime syndicate you used to work for. An organization almost as massive and pervasive as HYDRA was. That's why you put yourself in Nick Fury's debt. You did it for him. "That's why you owed Nick Fury. That's why you sold me out." 

"As twisted as it sounds, you were safer in SHIELD's custody. The moment I knew you were safe and in custody, I killed each and every one of them."

His voice is hoarse as he speaks, "You should've told me."

"I wasn't going to risk your life just so you wouldn't think badly of me."

"Then why did you come here?" he demands. "If you had no intention of telling me the truth, if you were going to pretend, why ask to come here?"

"I didn't ask to come here. I didn't know you were here. I stopped looking for you some time ago."

"Why?"

"I dug deep to finish what they started. And once I tore them down brick by brick, I needed to rebuild. I had nothing left. It took me a while to resurface."

"Oh." There's a tightness in Bucky's chest at your confession. He never looked for you. He though you betrayed him. Up until now, there was no reason to believe anything else. You rebuilt your life on your own. You had no one, nothing left. You were left all alone. He left you all alone. 

There's a strange look in Bucky's eye when you finally look up at him. There's a lightness you haven't scene in quite some time. "What?"

The corner of Bucky's mouth twitches up. You may not have known, but Nick Fury sure did. "Fury knew I was here. He knew where he was sending you. He knew about... us?"

"I assume he figured it out when I came to him, begging him to help me keep you safe."

A shaky exhale dances across your lips. Bucky closes the gap between the two of you, pressing you up against the wall with him. "It was real."

For the first time in a long time, you touch him. You rest your shaky hand against cheek, your fingers ghosting over his lips, "Finally, you see, it was real... my Soldat."

AnonymityIsFun Masterlist Inspired By Taylor Swift Masterlist Bucky Barnes Masterlist

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[drarrily-we-row-along]

Gorgeous

(inspired by t. swift's song)

Harry knew the moment that Draco walked into the bar. He always knew, there was something about the way he carried himself; his magic hot and bright, burning its way up Harry's spine before he'd even actually seen him. He turned his head, craning his neck to get a glimpse of the other man.

"Malfoy must be here," Ron grumbled.

He glanced back at Ron, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Just that every time he shows up here, you tune out most of what anyone has to say," Seamus piped up.

Harry glared at him, "Shut it. I do not."

"You do," Lavender replied as she slid in next to Parvati across from Hermione. "And it's just so sad because he talks to everyone but you."

He frowned, he had tried to convince himself that it was just his imagination that Draco talked to everyone else and intentionally ignored him. But before he could say anything more, Draco was at their table, he said, "this is Clement," gesturing to the attractive man on his arm before sitting down next to Hermione and immediately striking up a conversation with her.

"It's because he likes you," Blaise said, leaning in closer so Harry could hear him over the noise.

Harry rolled his eyes, "Yeah, right." Draco came with a different date every week, he wasn't interested in Harry.

Blaise shrugged, "Suit yourself but I'm telling you, Potter, that boy's been obsessed with you for years."

Shoving Blaise's shoulder Harry tried to put it from his mind. But as the night wore on, Harry watched Draco talking to everyone in their friend group but him (just like he always did) and when Draco got up to go to the loo, Harry couldn't help but follow. Not wanting to be a perv, he waited outside.

When Draco emerged, he immediately jumped, hand over his heart, "Circe's tits, Potter! What are you doing?"

Instead of answering his question, Harry's inebriated brain supplied one of it's own, "Why won't you talk to me?"

"Excuse me?" Draco asked, looking around as though he thought someone was playing a trick on him.

"I mean, we were friends, right?" he asked, knowing that he sounded more than a little desperate and pathetic. "Like 8th year, we sorted out all of our shit, forgave each other, right?"

"Potter, what are you on about?"

"It's just," he sighed and stared at Draco, wondering if he looked at him hard enough if he'd be able to understand him, "you never talk to me. And you talk to everyone else."

"You should be flattered," Draco said before turning away.

Without thinking Harry reached out and grabbed his hand, giving him a gentle tug, "Wait," he said.

"Adam is waiting," Draco said, not looking up to meet Harry's eyes.

"I thought you said his name was Clement?" Harry murmured.

And before he could do anything else, Draco was pressing him back against the wall and kissing him.

Harry's arms instinctively wrapped around him, drawing him in closer as he kissed him back just as desperately.

"That's what you get for touching my hand in a dark hallway," Draco muttered, nipping at Harry's lips.

"I ought to grab your hand more often, then," Harry replied, tugging Draco's body flush against his own so he could kiss him again.

Draco kissed him back for a long, tension filled moment, body surging and pressing against Harry's before he pulled back, "I fucking hate you."

Harry blinked at him, feeling like he was experiencing whiplash, his brain moving too slow, unutterably confused by the mixed signals he was receiving from Draco's body and his words. "What-" he started, but then Draco was kissing him again.

"I hate your stupid face, and your stupid green eyes," he continued as his hands slid under his tshirt and Harry groaned. "I hate the way you grew into your stupid body; all muscled and handsome. You're so fucking gorgeous, of course I can't talk to you."

"Fuck," he hissed as Draco's nails scraped over his back and Harry flipped their positions, pinning Draco to the wall.

Draco groaned, body shuddering against Harry's as he tried to drag him impossibly closer. "And I hate the way you talk, all honest and earnest, and-" he broke off as Harry sucked hard at his neck. "And I hate that you aren't mine."

Harry pulled back far enough to look him in the eyes, "Draco, you can have me," he said.

"Stop," he whined, giving Harry a shove but immediately tugging him back in. "Don't make fun of me."

"I'm not," Harry assured him. "I want you too, in case that wasn't abundantly clear," he said, pressing forward against Draco's body to emphasize his point.

Draco shook his head, "But I want more than just sex with you. Just sex would never be enough."

"Great," Harry replied, kissing down his neck again and pausing to suck at the bruise he'd left forming on his pale skin.

"I'm serious, Potter," Draco growled, fisting a handful of his hair and pulling until Harry looked him in the eyes again.

"Call me Harry," he said.

Draco rolled his eyes, "I'm serious, Harry. I'm a possessive bastard and I will want to keep you forever."

"Is that a threat or a promise?" Harry asked, feeling a little weak in the knees at the thought of being treasured and kept.

Narrowing his eyes he asked, "Are you being serious?"

"Yes," he said in exasperation, "Draco. I want you, too. I've been head over tits for you for ages."

"Really?" he asked, looking back and forth between Harry's eyes.

"Ask literally any of our friends," he said. "Yes. Really." He leaned in and gave him another soft, tentative kiss.

Draco shuddered and wrapped his arms around Harry's neck, "Take me home," he whispered.

"From here?"

Draco nodded, eyes closed.

He rubbed his nose over Draco's cheek, "What about-" he broke off trying to remember the bloke's name, "what's-his-name?"

"Who?" Draco asked, hands slipping under Harry's waistband and distracting him even further.

"Your date?" he prompted even as his fingers tangled in Draco's hair, turning his to the side to give himself better access to Draco's neck.

Draco whimpered, body arching against Harry's. He waved a hand, "I don't give a fuck. Take me home. Right now." Then softly, in Harry's ear, "Please," he all but moaned and Harry's self control snapped.

He apparated them right from there, straight into his bed, and suddenly Draco had absolutely no problem talking to him.

-------------------

Read more of my fics inspired by songs, if you'd like

tagging the lovely @phoebe-delia since it's taylor swift and that is her jam <3

#drarry #getting together #inspired by taylor swift #draco just really does have the same energy as her #silly #love #fics inspired by songs #a little making out #apparently we've fixed the writer's block- thanks everyone who's left me encouragement and kindness on the things I've posted this week <3 #It's zero to one hundred over here there is no in between. ADHD man.

[thisblogisaboutabook]

Cowboy Like Me - Part 6

Azriel x Reader

Reader and Elain are forced to spend a little one on one time together. Mor whisks reader out for a night on the town. Azriel loses his shit during an incident at Rita’s and comforts reader afterward. A new boundary is crossed between Azriel and reader.

A/n: We’re coming into the home stretch with this story! It will only have a couple more chapters.

Part 5

Warnings: Alcohol, Language, mild violence, seizure, poisoning, mention (kind of) of drugging via alcohol

Elain’s garden was lovely. A labor of love that only countless hours of tending and getting hands dirty could cultivate. Her tension eased slightly as she shared details of the various flora blooming throughout.

Truthfully, I had no interest in gardening and most of the plant names went in one of my ears and out the other but her passion was captivating. There was something about listening to someone speak of their interests that I couldn’t get enough of.

As if she were a demure flower that came into bloom when she entered her space, she went from uncomfortable with me to genuine. I could see why Azriel had interest in her.

As we finished her tour of the garden, nobody had come to collect us and the awkwardness once returned.

Finally Elain looked to her feet and then back to me. “You and Azriel are a lovely pair.”

I started. “Oh no, we’re not together. It’s just an assignment.”

Elain thought for a moment beginning to say something but holding herself back.

And because I was nothing if not incurably nosey I blurted out. “It’s okay. You can say whatever it is you’re holding back. It won’t hurt me, Elain.”

“It’s not like that.” She spoke softly. “Just be careful. Not with him, he is a good, honorable male. But I am a seer. It was one of the powers thrust upon me by the cauldron and I’ve seen something that I don’t understand. A mangled skeleton in a tunnel with you…. And threads of gold flowing from the opposite direction.”

I paled. What an ominous thing to say. “My visions are strange and I don’t understand how to decipher them just yet. I don’t want to alarm you. Please,” she took my hand earnestly, “just be careful.”

I squeezed her hand in return. Who was I to make the female before me feel uncomfortable for sharing something she clearly still struggled to speak about. She had no reason to be kind to me. I was a stranger, a spy, in close proximity to someone she had or perhaps still did have feelings for. And yet, I could feel she was being genuine. So I met her eyes sincerely, “Thank you, Elain. I’m happy to have met you.”

We chatted for a few more minutes, nothing of substance, just contented small talk.

Eventually Rhysand came to the garden, Azriel behind him looking uncomfortable. “Thank you for your patience, ladies. Amren can get rather cranky when she hasn’t had her nap. Please excuse her…. brazen ways. It makes her a great second, but an occasional pain in the ass at dinner.”

He gestured to the female beside me, “Thank you for showing our guest your garden, Elain.” before turning to me. “Y/N, please join Azriel, Cassian, and I in my office.”

Rhysand turned back toward the house, Azriel lingering behind to wait for me. I felt his gaze as we wandered through a corridor of the massive estate. I felt awkward after the earlier encounter, not quite sure what to say. It was Azriel who broke the silence as he slowed his pace. “Y/N…”

I looked up to the male towering over me. His wings were tucked in tightly behind him as his shadows whirled around our feet. “You look so much more than nice. You’re resplendent.”

My face heated in a blush and a flicker sparked in those hazel eyes. Oh, he knew that effected me and was proud of recovering from his earlier stumble.

“Thank you, Azriel.” I reached toward his tunic. “You clean up quite well yourself.”

It was his turn to blush now. I jerked my head toward the High Lord now several yards ahead of us. “We best catch up with him.”

“Yes, of course.” He extended his arm as I looped mine through it.

Rhysand’s office was less of an office and more of a library. In fact, I am pretty sure that I’ve seen smaller libraries in my travels to the Day Court. “What an impressive collection” I marveled at the grand room surrounding us that was both warm and elegant. A lovely painting of the High Lady hung behind his desk. I wondered if she painted it.

“She did.” Rhys spoke into my head. “Lovely, isn’t she?”

“The loveliest” I mused wistfully. She truly was. “Hey, now get out of my head.”

He held his hands up in a show of innocence before mentally replying “No mind reading here. It was easy enough to read on your face, little spy. Nice to know all I need to break a spy is my beautiful mate.”

I only giggled in return. I liked him. I had heard rumors that he was a much more benevolent ruler than he let the world see but hearing it versus experiencing were two totally different things.

Azriel’s low voice interrupted and brought me back to reality “I’d love to be included in whatever you two are going on about.”

Whoops. Busted.

“Yeah, guys.” Cassian’s booming voice came from the doorway. “Secrets don’t make friends.”

“They do keep my pockets lined though.” I replied without thinking. Probably not in my best interest to make such jokes after Amren’s display at dinner.

To both my surprise and lack of it, Cassian laughed. “Touché, little spy.”

Rhys placed his palms on the desk, eyes fixating on a letter before lifting his head back to us. “We have new information on the infiltrated shipments. A trace amount of the same poison that had laced the spices imported to the Summer Court were detected in one of Beron’s vaults. Not enough to damn him but enough to suggest we are looking in the right direction.”

“Who relayed this intel?” Azriel asked.

“Who do you think?” Cassian goaded, earning an eye roll from his brother.

I cut in “It was Eris, right? Are you sure he can be trusted?”

“I trust him far more than Beron and he hasn’t led us astray yet.” Rhys replied. “I see no reason not to believe him at this point in time.”

“Now,” Rhys continued. “Here’s where things get interesting. Beron will be attending the ball next week. Eris will be there as well and I’ve contacted Lucien. He was hesitant to show given his history with his father but with Elain in attendance he plans to join.”

Azriel gave no response, physical or verbal, to the mention of Elain. He only continued listening intently. “Lucien was concerned about Elain given Beron being there but she has made it abundantly clear to Feyre and I that it is her choice to go.”

“Is it necessary for her to attend?” Cassian asked.

“Once again, it is her choice. She had a vision leading me to believe Beron has something planned and that was before Eris confirmed that Beron is attending the ball and of the traces of poison he had discovered.”

“Shit.” Cassian muttered.

“Azriel, I need you and Y/N to stay here in the event that anything urgent comes up. Y/N, would you be comfortable staying in Velaris for the time being? You can stay at the House of Wind with Nesta, Cassian, and Azriel and train with Nesta in the mornings.”

As if I would be sad to stay in a gorgeous city and not in a giant palace in the middle of nowhere with only one grumpy Shadowsinger for company. Okay, the last part wasn’t so bad. He wasn’t that grumpy… and he was rather pleasant to look at it.

Rhys waited patiently for an answer. “I am at your disposal, High Lord.”

———————

Upon reentering the main living area, I was greeted by an eager Mor. “What would an evening together be without a little Amren drama?” She clung to my arm guiding me toward a liquor cart, pouring us each a glass of Cognac served neat. “Cheers to surviving your first family dinner!”

Azriel only huffed. “We should get to the House of Wind. It’s late and we have to train in the morning.”

“Oh no you don’t.” Mor gripped my arm tightly.

“Don’t even think about it, Mor.” Azriel warned.

“My gift is truth. And the truth is that Y/N has not experienced Velaris until she’s had a night out at Rita’s.”

Azriel kept his stance. “Well she’ll be here for at least a week longer. We’re going to stay at the House of Wind until the ball.”

Mor squealed. “Oh, we are going to have so much fun!”

“She’s still here for work, Mor.” He reprimanded

Her brows knit together “And? What does that have to do with anything? There’s plenty of time for work. Now, let’s play.”

I wasn’t about to get into this battle of wills between Mor and Az but the idea of a night out was appealing. I’ve never had a night out for just fun. It was always for work, always. I wanted to feel music and lose my myself for a bit, but… Azriel did have a point. It was getting late and we did have to train tomorrow.

The blonde waived a hand dismissively. “Azriel. You work too hard. You’ve been wound tight for months now. You need this just as much.”

He scoffed. “My idea of an enjoyable night out isn’t babysitting my belligerent best friend and one of my spies.”

“Excuse me?” I chimed in. “One: you don’t have to babysit me. Two: I’m a spy for hire, not one of your spies.”

And with that, I could have sworn hurt flickered across his stoic features before regaining his composure. “Do what you want then. I’m not going out.”

“Fine.” I stated. “I’m going with Mor.”

“For fucks sake.” He muttered under his breath.

Mor again squealed. “Come on! Let’s change.”

———————-

I wasn’t sure why Mor insisted on changing when the dress I had been wearing was perfectly suitable for a night out, but who was I to fight the determined female? I saw how far it got Azriel who had known her for 500 years. There was no way that I would win that battle with her.

So, I found myself at Rita’s a lively bar with even livelier music in a much too short, skin tight dress, high heels, and an obscene amount of cleavage.

Cassian and Nesta came along as Nesta loved the music though she did not drink.

And Az thought he would have to babysit when Nesta was right there?

I would obey any command the silver eyed female gave me. Any command. Cassian was a very lucky male.

Rita’s was far more lively than I anticipated, nothing like the taverns I had frequented where a sole piano collected dust until a passing bard came through to warm the keys for tips. No, this bar had a stage dedicated for instrumentals and singers with sultry voices. The drinks were far from the stale and shitty varieties of ale I was used to. While there were plenty of bottom shelf options, Mor ordered everything from the top, and I gladly indulged.

We did several rounds of shots before Mor pulled me onto the dance floor. Nesta following with Cassian in tow. Round of drinks were served to us in between sets and I completely lost myself to the music. I took turns writhing against Mor and Nesta, which Cassian did not mind ogling in the slightest. Nesta only gave him a sultry smirk before losing herself to the music again.

A few males tried getting close to us but Cassian’s big scary “Lord of Bloodshed” face drove them off. Fortunately for them.

I had a feeling that if they slipped past his harrowing gaze, Nesta would happily eat them alive. Just to reiterate, Cassian is a very lucky male.

The liquor continued flowing and my head felt light in the best of ways. A lightness I’d experienced so few times over the years. I knew I was a sight, we all were. Nesta’s curves were stunning in anything, and Mor and I… well we had enough on display for anyone to appreciate.

Eventually Rhys and Feyre came into the bar, seemingly having left Nyx with Elain for the rest of the night. They were a sight together, the moon and stars, so effortlessly captivating.

Feyre joined us out on the dance floor as tendrils of darkness swirled around the booth Rhysand sat at, his white teeth shining through as an amused grin crossed his face.

Maybe if I’d looked closer I would have noticed that those weren’t tendrils of darkness at all but shadow that surrounded the booth.

Mor was drawn into dance with a beautiful female as Cassian took reprieve to visit Rhys in his booth and Nesta and Feyre took to chatting with eachother in a corner. The perfect moment to sneak away and indulge in one more drink.

I approached the bar, fighting through a crowd of bystanders to place another order. After three attempts to catch the bartenders attention, a pretty male appeared next to me with that classic High Fae beauty and he was so, so tall. “What do you want?” He asked. “I’ve got you.” And in a normal circumstances would have insisted I am a strong, independent female perfectly calable to order my own drink but honestly…. My inhibitions were low enough that I was happy to accept the feat of a beautiful male buying me a drink.

I yelled my drink order to him over the crowd to which he raised an eyebrow then threw a long arm up in the air with two fingers and a gold mark. Ah, money, great attention getter. It was only a moment before the bartender made his way over to take his order. The bartender opened a new bottle of the liquor from the shelf. Not a high end liquor but not totally bottom of the barrel either. Something that said I’m a classy lady but also considerate of the fact that someone else is paying for my drink.

The bartender slid the drinks over to which the male handed me mine, gave a cheers, and invited me for a dance.

One dance wouldn’t hurt.

He stayed close to me but remained respectful. His hands not drifting anywhere above or below mid-waist and keeping a few centimeters of space between our bodies.

As I became more comfortable with the stranger and the music became a bit more seductive, I leaned back into his warm chest. It was nice, comfortable, but my eyes began to grow heavy and my limbs a bit more lucid. My motions became slower and I felt myself slumping a bit. The male noticed too because he peered around me. “Hey. Hey, are you-“ and suddenly shadows surrounded us and a low, gravely voice spoke. “Step away from my lady.”

I heard the male gasp beginning to speak, letting go of me as Azriel’s large, strong hands caught me, not letting go until I steadied. “Wait, I wasn’t-“ he didn’t finish the sentence before Azriel’s fist met the males face, hard.

“Fuck!” The male shouted as Azriel shoved him further away from me and it was then that I fell to the floor, darkness overtaking me.

——————

When I came to it, I was in an unfamiliar bed. A warm fire glowed in a large stone fireplace before me and a few stars still interés in the sky outside. Pain radiated through me shooting from my stomach and throughout the rest of my body. I tried to sit up but immediately needed to throw up.

Suddenly a scarred hand passed a bucket to me. “Here, here take this.” I gripped my hands onto it and heaved. A warm hand helped keep me sitting upright, thumb running soft strokes over my back as another held my hair back.

“Holy shit.” I gasped before heaving again. “I’m never drinking again.”

“Not a bad idea.” Azriel spoke, no hint of amusement in his voice. “But drinking wasn’t the sole factor.”

Pain radiated through my skull. “What do you mean?”

Then a flashback ran through my mind of shadow and Azriel’s fist meeting a males face.

Fuck, how could I have been so stupid! “That male. He…” I couldn’t finish the sentence. “Did he-?”

Azriel looked down to his feet before taking the bucket back and handing me a cup of ginger tea.

“Look, I…” shame darkened his features. “My shadows sensed something was wrong. I saw you slumping in his arms and I acted before realizing.”

My brows furrowed, lips drawing into a straight line. “I still don’t understand. What do you mean, Azriel?”

“No, he didn’t do anything wrong. For what it’s worth, he seems like a decent male. But after you fell, I ran to you. I shouldn’t have stepped away from you in the first place. You began seizing, Y/N. It fucking terrified me. Cassian apprehended him before the same thing happened to the male. He lost his steadiness, fell to the ground, and began seizing as well.

I immediately took you to Madja who examined you, induced vomiting and provided tonics to counteract the symptoms. “What happened to me?”

Rage. Icy rage crossed his features. “You were poisoned. Mor came and stayed by your side while Madja worked on you. Rhys, Cassian, and I were able to question several people at Rita’s. It turns out that soon after you fell ill, a few others came down with the same symptoms. It was the liquor that had been poisoned. We spoke with the owner of Rita’s who checked their logs and the bottle of liquor you were last served from had been imported around the time that the rogue shipment landed in the summer court.”

“Fuuuck.” I whispered. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I overreacted. I thought he hurt you. And when i considered his intentions….”

His hands flexed and a light hint of silver lined his eyes. “Fuck, I just lost it.”

“Is he okay?” I asked. “Yes, once the tonic took effect for him. I was able to apologize and he was forgiving. Very decent of him given that if the roles were reversed… I didn’t deserve the forgiveness.”

“What about the other patrons who were poisoned?” I asked. “Is everyone okay?”

Azriel’s shadows whirred angrily. “Fortunately. Madja and her staff were quick and everyone will recover.”

His hazel eyes met mine sympathetically, “but it may take a full day for the effects to fully clear from your system. It won’t be a pleasant process.”

Given the pain and nausea within me, I was dreading the next several hours. Looking down, I saw that I’d been changed into an oversized t-shirt and men’s boxer briefs. I looked to Azriel with a raised eyebrow. “Your doing?”

The male blushed, blushed for the second time in less than twelve hours, and I couldn’t repress the small grin that came to my lips. “Nesta helped you into these. Your dress was covered in vomit. And Nesta may dress somewhat modestly in public but she has preferences in her nightly attire so it was either my clothes or a night gown that left very little to the imagination.

Mor is going to bring you some of the clothes you bought yesterday and some of hers after she gets a few hours of sleep. I’ll retrieve clothes from the Moonstone Palace once you’re better.”

Had he forgotten that I was only wearing clothes from the guest armoire there? “I know they aren’t yours but they suited you. Night Court attire suits you.”

I remembered the cobalt blue outfits I wore around the palace. Cobalt blue like…. Oh my gods, his siphons.

It was my turn to blush.

“You should get some more rest, Y/N.”

“Fine.” I sighed. A fevered chill running through me that even the warm bed and fire couldn’t suppress.

He started as he saw the shivers overtake me, goosebumps appearing on my arms.

“Azriel?”

“Yes?” He asked cautiously.

“Will you lay with me? I’m cold.”

And that was the first night I slept in the arms of the Shadowsinger.

———————

Azriel

He sat beside her bed for hours, heart lurching at any stir in her sleep. Had he just gone out with them in the first place, maybe this wouldn’t have happened. Maybe it would have been him holding her against his chest on the dance floor, maybe she wouldn’t have wandered off for that last drink.

When she seized on the floor, he felt his soul leave his body. He’d never known such panic in his life, not when his brothers held fire to his hands, not when he saw Mor in that field, not even when Elain had been captured by Hybern. He was always able to master himself in times of distress. But he knew that this time was different and if it weren’t for the adrenaline rush that overtook his senses in rushing her to Madja, he would have been hyperventilating on the floor next to her, he was certain of it.

So when she finally awoke and asked meekly if he’d sleep with her, there was no other option. She felt so right in his arms. As her breathing evened out, sleep once again overtaking her, he quietly whispered into the night, to himself, to her sleeping form, to the gods, anyone who would listen. “Never again.”

His shadows hummed in agreement.

Never again would he leave her when he knew she wanted his company. No, she didn’t say it out loud, but he felt it somewhere deep within his chest. Never again would he let someone bring harm to her, and if they did, he wouldn’t let them get away with it. Never again would his little spy feel alone in this world.

With that he softly brushed his lips across her temple. A seal of a vow. A silent show of adoration.

And he could have sworn he felt a little flutter in his chest as her lip quirked upward in her dream state.

————————————————

Tags: @fxckmiup @saltedcoffeescotch @minnieoo @dr4g0ngirl @thebeautifulmysteriesoflife

Sorry for the delay with this chapter!

#sarah j maas #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #azriel #a court of silver flames #a court of frost and starlight #a court of mist and fury #a court of wings and ruin #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #nessian #nesta #cassian #feysand #elain archeron #morrigan #acotar x taylor swift #cowboy like me #inspired by taylor swift #shadowsinger #acotar fluff #acotar angst

[jiniret-writings]

Sweet Nothings

Inspired by Sweet Nothing by Taylor Swift

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Pairing: idol!Bangchan x idol!Reader

Warnings: Reader ruminates over how they're constantly criticized

Comments, Likes, and Reblogs are welcome and appreciated!

On the way home I wrote a poem You say, "What a mind" This happens all the time

They always wanted so much from you. It was like everyone had some expectation of you that you could never reach. Every lyric scrutinized, every dance move analyzed; even the way you walked was up for scrutiny. What once brought you joy started to feel like a chore. It felt like you weren't allowed to have fun with lyrics anymore unless you wanted articles written about how you had "lost your spark".

That was until Chan came along. The first time you met him you thought he would be like everyone else. Especially since he was a producer and songwriter, you were expecting him to give you feedback from the first meeting--as most producers you met did. Instead, he talked to you about your crocheting. It was a little hobby you had that you barely ever talked about, but he remembered it.

You two had a blossoming friendship that turned to more on a drive home from dance practice. You were playing around with a beat and wrote some lyrics that didn't mean much. It was just an in-the-moment type of thing. But when he heard it, he just smiled at you and added to your little bundle of nonsense.

Industry disruptors and soul deconstructors And smooth-talking hucksters out glad-handing each other And the voices that implore, "You should be doing more" To you, I can admit that I'm just too soft for all of it

He never judged you. That's one of the things you loved most about him. You were both idols who got extremely busy and each had your own bundle of problems, but at the end of the day when you two were airing it all out in the open and ranting about everything from a small inconvenience to huge scandals, there was never any judgement. Only understanding.

There were days when it seemed like nothing was ever enough. You'd go live and message on bubble and post on Instagram and weverse and even uploaded a vlog! But there was always something amiss. Some challenge you didn't do or some song you didn't talk about. Your captions were either lackluster or too cringe. You kept a brave face around the fans, and even started doing so in front of staff. It was only when you were with Chan that you could let the facade crumble and hide yourself in his embrace.

They said the end is coming Everyone's up to something I find myself running home to your sweet nothings

You were only 24 but were already reminded of how easy it would be for you to fade into nothingness. Every month a new artist debuted, and while you were secure where you were now, there was no guarantee for the future. One day, the world would deem you too old to be an idol and all you'd have left was your name.

But when you came home, it was like all your worries were silenced. There were no expectations between the two of you other than to just be.

"Be yourself, that's all I want from you", he'd said one day when you'd tried breaking up with him early in your relationship. Just be you.

Everything was something to be celebrated. Something as small as waking up was an accomplishment when you were with Chan. Lazy days in were rebranded to self care days. There was no such thing as a lazy meal because everything tasted better when you were together. Chan was your safe space and you were his. All there was between you two was pure love. You treasured each other as you were, not as you could be.

All that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing

This has been sitting unfinished in my drafts for a while, but after Chan changed his Instagram caption I realized how I wanted to write this. I hope all of you have someone you can turn to who can just accept you as you are and not for what you can be. You deserve to be with someone/people who don't have expectations for what you need to be. As always, have a great morning, afternoon, evening, and night <3

-Jini

#jiniret-writings #jiniret writings #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagines #skz x reader #stray kids fluff #stray kids imagine #bangchan fluff #bang chan #bang chan fluff #bangchan angst #bang chan angst #angst #fluff #taylor swift #inspired by taylor swift #sweet nothings #sweet nothing #bangchan x you #bangchan x reader #bangchan imagines #bang chan x reader #bang chan fanfic #bang chan x you

[wildlife4life]

Seven Sentence Sunday

Tagged by the always lovely and amazing, @spotsandsocks @malewifediaz @disasterbuckdiaz @exhuastedpigeon @wikiangela @daffi-990 @elvensorceress and @bigfootsmom Thank you all so much and I'm super excited for all your upcoming works!

Last night ya'll... I'm still reeling and pinching myself because the whole Taylor Swift and Travis Kelce lyric change and kiss! OMG! So in honor of my favorite player basically winning on his bye week, I have unpaused from NFL Buck and bring you this.

Buck's first in season game back from his leg injury had every nay sayer and Watson advocator go silent. 432 passing yards, 45 rushing, 4 touchdowns, and a solid 32-10 win over Aaron Rodger's Green Bay Packers. Astonishing. A fairy tail ending from a horrible beginning. It took every fiber of Eddie's learned military patience and control to hold himself back from running down to the field and personally congratulate Evan. "Squeeze him extra tight for me." He told Maddie, before she stepped off the elevator towards the family waiting area. Eddie adjusted his grip on a sleepy Christopher and watch his reflection slide in with the closing doors. "He won daddy. With his bad leg." Christopher murmured in his shoulder. "I knew he would." The smile that had fallen earlier at the reminder of Eddie and Evan's closeted situation, returned hearing his son's bright optimism. "Never a doubt mijo." Later, in the privacy of their own home, Eddie stared up at the red door canvas photo that gave them their beginning. 'Just walk in.' A motto Buck took to heart during his recovery. Just walk into the doctor's office, you won't know what the prognosis is until you do. Just walk into physical therapy, even if you think there is no point. Just walk into team locker room, you and the team need you in there. Just walk into the stadium, show them all Evan Buckley is the starting quarterback. Just walk in the front door and kiss the man you keep hidden, but loves you so much that he values the reasons to stay hidden. Just walk in. And Evan continues to do so. He walks in their front door. Eddie turns to him, steps forward, throws his arms around those broad shoulders, and kisses him like he wanted at the stadium. All consuming, filled with love, and oh so damn proud.

Hehehehehehehe. YES I am giddy through and through, and I hope you all enjoyed! All things NFL Buck can be found here.

Tagging (no pressure): @bekkachaos @watchyourbuck @jesuisici33 @thewolvesof1998 @hippolotamus @jeeyuns @theotherbuckley @fortheloveofbuddie @giddyupbuck @ladydorian05 @devirnis @eddiebabygirldiaz @loserdiaz @spaceprincessem @thekristen999 @lizzybizzyzzz @homerforsure @sibylsleaves @spagheddiediaz @try-set-me-on-fire @shortsighted-owl @monsterrae1 @lover-of-mine @rogerzsteven @eowon @honestlydarkprincess @911onabc @911-on-abc @cowboydiazes @hoodie-buck @vampbuckley @brokenribsdiaz @buck-coded @housewifebuck @arthursdent @glorious-spoon @buddierights @athenagranted @rainbow-nerdss @gayhoediaz @gayedmundodiaz

#seven sentence sunday #tag game #my wip #911 abc #911 show #911 fic #buddie #buddie fic #evan buckley #eddie diaz #nfl #houston texans #quarterback buck #firefighter eddie #secret relationship #just walk in #injury recovery #christopher diaz #inspired by taylor swift #and travis kelce

[labellewolf13]

I was disappointed to find that there is not one single edit of the song "You're on your own, kid" with Lena Luthor in mind. (I later found a few in tiktok, but that's not important shh).

So, surprisingly enough, I was driven to make one myself. This is my first time doing an edit in this form, but I have to say I'm quite proud of how it turned out.

Here I give you something you never asked for lmao.

#supergirl #lena luthor #fanwork #fan edit #my edit #supercorp if you squint #inspired by taylor swift

[miss-celestia13]

Violence

Jake ruminates on his love…

She came into his life with the force of a raging hurricane. A maelstrom of emotion and desire that he’d long refused to allow himself to feel. She was a storm restrained within a human skin, sent to disrupt his carefully crafted life.

There had been no way to refuse her, not that he wanted to. Her violent way of flirting had sealed it.

Being lured by her flashlight Morse Code and held at knifepoint was the most memorable way he’d ever been wooed.

The silver blade had rested against his throat, the small hand holding it unwavering and fearless, and he’d been gone from the moment she said;

“If you value that pretty neck, Jake, I’d stand very still and drop your hands.”

The urge to laugh and throttle her had struck him like a bolt of scarlet lightning.

She wanted him and hunted him down to have him. Shameless, utterly distracting, and so impatiently impulsive, he never knew what to expect next. A glitch in his system he’d been wholly unprepared to encounter.

He’d never felt as alive as he did under the power of her venom eyes that night.

It was as though his heart had shrivelled and died without him noticing. Years of neglect and abuse had rendered it nothing more than a muscle that pumped blood through his veins.

The tiny flame of hope he’d carried in the early days of his exile had guttered long before she appeared.

She was a shot of pure adrenaline that brought him back to life. She gave him a reason to stop running, teaching him how to live and fight for himself.

If she hadn’t decided he deserved better than what he had, he didn’t know where he’d be.

He’d resigned himself to a life of hollow, aching nothingness. Just him and the mocking echo of his racing steps as he sought a new hiding spot.

Never laying down roots, cutting any growth out before it could bloom, and dousing the surrounding earth with salt to ensure he’d remain alone.

It had worked until she dropped into his life like a boulder launched into a still lake. The ripples she’d caused still flowed through him.

Life had been cold before her. Petrified in time and tragic happenstance.

Grief, regret, and spite held him captive for so long, he had been afraid to see who he could be without it grinding him down.

All his would’ve, could’ve, should’ve’s weighed him down. Demons on his back.

Their poison tipped claws had sunk in deep, etching their unspeakable names into his bones, and filling his blood with their lethal dose.

Manon had seen all that, the enshrouding devouring darkness, the glacial waters surrounding him, and laughed in the face of his demons until they ran away screaming.

He once believed he deserved nothing more than the shallow, unmarked grave his pursuers had prepared for him.

Now, those who once hunted him filled that grave.

He thrived while they decayed.

And with her, his world was warm. Scalding in the best times.

They preferred spending time together wearing nothing but skin, accessorized with gooseflesh and sweat, his teeth marks, and the violets his fingers planted on her inner thighs whenever he crawled between them.

She was a fire, an untamed blaze in the dark that kept his brittle heart cozy and safe.

He was her peace and patience after her life of war, death, and self-appointed blame.

She was his, and he was hers.

Everything else was just static on the screen.

————————————-

I shared my MC's thoughts on Jake the other day, but I wrote them for both. It helps me get in their heads to write their stories. In this case, I had to write vows for them, and these helped me get into a romantic mindset. I wanted to share his side, too❤️

Silence - My MC’s thoughts on Jake.

#jake x mc #duskwood #duskwood fanfic #duskwood jake #duskwood mc #duskwood hacker #inner thoughts #fanfiction #fanfic #writing #duskwood fanfiction #duskwood everbyte #jake x oc #duskwood fandom #duskwood game #moonvale #everbyte game #moonvale everbyte #romance fanfiction #fluff and romance #fluff and love #original female character #female writers #creative writers #spilled ink #love and romance #fanfiction writer #love #words #inspired by taylor swift

[ninichii-xcix]

The kind of heartbreak time could never mend isn’t the person who left you after years of being together. It isn’t the person you fell in love with the second your eyes met. The kind of heartbreak time could never mend is the person that could have been. It’s the person you almost had — the person who was once at an arm’s length — but pulled away when you finally decided to take the leap. It’s the person who keeps you up at night with all the possibilities, all the what ifs, all the should’ve beens.

#writing #writers #ramblings #thoughts #thoughts and musings #writers tumblr #rambles #excerpts from my life #writerscafe #excerpts #i'm sad #sad thoughts #situationships #inspired by taylor swift #bigger than the whole sky #cornelia street #taylor swift #song quotations #sad writing #late night thinking #late night writing #late night feelings #dating is hard #dating is awful #you broke my heart #sadcore #the one who got away #almost lover #writblr #writerscorner

[abyssal-ali]

Gold Rush

Ship: Timari

Rating: G

WC: ~1.0k

A/N: this was written probably two years ago (?) and kinda rushed, so it's not my best work. I did edit a bit and any mistakes or bad plot is mine and not my lovely beta-readers', @kitsun369 and @mothofhearts

Constructive criticism accepted (but please be nice) and any feedback is great!💜

Inspired partially by Taylor Swift's song, Gold Rush. If you recognize little nods to certain lyrics, congratulations! My symbolism didn't go to waste.

For @the-coffee-fandom, @velveteenshadow, @forgottenfriends, @timinette-is-best, @miraculousmelodies and all the other Timari Coven fiends.

Marinette eyed Lila over the rim of her punch glass. She was talking flirtatiously with the host of their trip to Gotham, Wayne Enterpsises' CEO Tim Drake.

Marinette had hoped that he'd use his internationally famous genius to see through Lila's facade, but it seemed like the liar had another victim of her honeyed tongue. At least this time she wouldn't be lying when she bragged about knowing the Timothy Drake (even though everything Lila said after that probably wouldn't be true).

Marinette and Tim had met at the pre-party meet-and-greet, where their hosts formally introduced themselves to their Parisian guests. Marinette had met his eyes as they shook hands and promptly fell into his sparkling ocean-blue eyes that twinkled with amusement at her flushed face. She furiously willed away the heat creeping up her neck and into her cheeks, hoping it wouldn't come back every time she looked at him.

He was quite charismatic and she knew he was one of the most sought-after dates, a handsome heir to two multi-million dollar companies....handsome? She thought beautiful fit him better, with his expressive eyes and lean yet muscled build and hair casually falling into place over his eyes when he shook his head, laughing at a guest's joke.

No, bad Marinette. She had an online boyfriend, and they were going to make it official when they met in person. She was not going to do anything more than admire her host's looks.

Between the meet-and-greet and dancing/socializing part of the party was a fancy dinner, where Marinette sat opposite Tim and they had a delightful discussion.

It kind of reminded her of her DMs with her gaming partner/online boyfriend, RRBurgers (she called him RR). They typed about anything and everything and often debated random things just for fun, to test their wits.

Tim had said something—she was sure it was purposely controversial—and she'd ached to begin a war of words, but responded more mildly than she liked. He had looked surprised, then thoughtful, when she refused to verbally spar with him.

They'd brushed fingers as they crossed paths, completely by accident, and Marinette promptly increased her speed, heading to the powder room to silently talk to herself (and Tikki).

She was in love with RR and didn't need to fall for gorgeous eyes and perfect smiles.

Now, she was seeing red—or at least a shade of rose, the colour of Lila's surprisingly unostentatious dress—as she spied on Mr. Drake and Lila's flirting.

She drained her punch in an annoyed swig, moving to the balcony, and looked at the stars until her jealousy cooled. If Mr. Drake couldn't see Lila for who she was, he deserved her, she told herself.

With a sigh, she leaned on the railing and pulled out her phone to play a round of her favourite game.

She stiffened when Mr. Drake appeared at her elbow. How had she not heard him approach? Then again, the ambient chatter and music were noisy.

“You play well."

“Thanks.” She finished her round (a win) and returned her phone to her purse.

"You play Knights of Mirreile?” Mr. Drake obviously wasn't taking her silence as a hint, or else he was outright ignoring her body language.

“Yes. You know it?”

“I joined to practice my French with native speakers. I'm on the Parisian server, actually—my handle is RRBurgers.” He looked at her curiously.

She took a step back. “RR? I'm LadybugandtheTramp!”

He held out his hand. “Hi, Lady. I'm RR; thrilled to meet you in person.”

She shook it, willing her returning blush to retreat. “Wait a minute...tell me three things only RR and Lady know. Just to be sure.”

Tim grinned at her. “You're wise; this is Gotham, after all.

"Uh, une: I contacted you first, to ask you to teach me some hacks.

"Deux: You have PTSD from Hawkmoth and often can't sleep, so you game, because you don't like sewing as much anymore.

"Trois,” he lowered his voice and stepped closer. Marinette could feel his body heat, even though the air was crisp. “We're a couple in Mireille and when we are planning to meet and date in person. You told me you were in love with me twenty-two days ago, and I replied that I was in love with you too.”

Marinette could barely breathe when she saw the intense look in his eyes. “Uh...I guess you are RR...I'm so glad to finally meet you in person, although it's sooner than I was expecting! You're even cuter than I imagined.”

She enjoyed the pink on his face instead of hers more than she should have.

"Will you go on a date with me tomorrow, Lady?”

"I'd love to!"

" But until tomorrow, would you care to spend our time together dancing?"

The red on Tim's neck spread and Marinette giggled. "Who taught you how to be so smooth? I almost fell for you all over again."

Tim winked at her, took her hand, and led her to the dancefloor. Marinette silently thanked Chloe for insisting on teaching her how to properly waltz, at least.

As they swirled around the room, he complained in her ear. “I talked with Lila. You're right—I can't believe what she made up! When I asked for clarification, the lies got more outrageous! I am so sorry for your suffering.”

Shyly, she admitted, “I was a little jealous of the attention you were paying her. I thought your smarts could see through her but it didn't look like it—you're a good actor."

“Thanks, I have to be.”

At her puzzled look, he explained, “In business meetings, you've got to keep a poker face, especially when you're a young businessperson like me.”

“Oh,” she nodded. “I understand that."

She relished in the angry look Lila sent their way as they twirled past her. Maybe Tikki's powers did rub off on her, building up to this moment. For some reason, she felt secure in the knowledge that she was safe and could be herself.

When she had first met RRBurgers online, she was prepared to keep her distance from him emotionally. It had been just after Ladybug and her team defeated Hawkmoth and she was depressed and suffering PTSD, gaming when she couldn't sleep or had nightmares. But RR had somehow wormed his way into her good graces with his nerdy jokes and similar lifestyle and whacky stories about his family, and the next thing she knew she had a big crush.

They gradually grew closer, DMing every day, and RR had really encouraged her in a way her old friends hadn't been able to do. She had changed a lot after being Ladybug, but they still saw her as Past Marinette. RR was a virtual friend, a blank slate, and knew Present Marinette.

He'd encouraged her to stop sewing if she didn't have a passion for it anymore and not be bound by people's expectations of Past Marinette, but show them Present Marinette.

She hadn't been brave enough to completely act like Present Marinette, but with Tim encouraging her from her side instead of over a screen, she thought she could try now.

Tonight was as good a place to start as any. She approached Lila, Tim's arm around her waist. "Hey, Lila, I see you've met Tim's brother, Dick. Have you told him about that time you heroically saved Jagged's kitten yet?"

~~le fin~~

#Mlbxdc #Dcxmlb #Maribat #Timari #ali writes #Fic #I hope y'all like it!! #Inspired by Taylor Swift

[madeofstardustandmagic]

"I can see you staring, honey, like he's just your understudy"

is the most wolfstar shit i've ever fucking seen/heard/felt like i don't know how else to describe the way no one else matters the way they do, the way they can date anyone else and it's nothing compared to THEM

#wolfstar #sirius black #remus lupin #exile #inspired by taylor swift #the song isnt all it #but THAT LINE

[ttpd-tears-and-all]

Are you a swiftie? Are you a writer?

Are you haunted by her lyrics and storytelling? Are you afraid or excited for the new album release or any feeling in between?

Introducing a collection to prompt/write for fics based on any song or lyric, for any fandom of your choice!

AO3 collection: The Tortured Poets Department; Tears and All

Even though the album is released April 19th, feel free to prompt and/or write before you even hear the songs or long after you’ve fully processed them

Explore the collection rules and FAQ in the link above for more info!

💗✨thank you!!✨💗

#swifties #writing fest #hp fests #marauders #marauders era #drarry #stranger things #rwrb #star wars #jegulus #ttpd writing fest #ttpd #tortured poets #the tortured poets department #ttpd tears and all #inspired by taylor swift #heartstopper #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo fest #hannibal

[anonymityisfunwriter]

"Slut!"

Pairing - Steve Rogers x Stark!Reader Summary - It was perfect. Lovelorn and nobody knows. Love thorns all over this rose. You almost forgot just how hard the fall back to reality is. But if they call you a slut, it might be worth it for once.

Steve Rogers Masterlist | Inspired By Taylor Swift Masterlist

"She goes through guys like a train-"

You immediately change the channel. The next one isn't better. You don't know why you thought it would be.

"The Stark last name and the long list of ex-lovers, that's her claim to fame. I mean, let's be honest here, she's a slu-" The tabloid reporter is abruptly cut off as the screen before you goes dark.

You look up to find Steve with the remote in his hand. He glares at the screen like the reporter was still talking, "You shouldn't be watching that."

"I'm used to it."

"You shouldn't be. It's despicable. They were - the things they're calling you-"

"A slut," you finish for him.

His eyes dart to you, that furrow between his eyebrows getting deeper and deeper with every word spoken, "It's not true. This isn't journalism, it's slander."

You weren't sure how this happened. Sure, it was only a matter of time before they found you out. This wasn't the first time. Not the second or the third either. If the press was to be believed, you were love sick. Love struck with a new man every week.

It wasn't the first time someone called you a slut. It certainly wouldn't be the last.

You stopped living your life in fear of what people would say a long time ago. Being this young was an art. And up until now, you thought you mastered it.

It was simple. You even had your rules. You followed them and no one got hurt - or at the very least, it minimized the damage.

They were going to stare at you. Strangers. Press. The flashing cameras. It came with being a Stark. If they're going to look, you gave them something to look at. You didn't so much as step out on the street with a single hair out of place. You were flawless. Always.

You were nineteen, and on the heels of a breakup with your second ever boyfriend, the first time someone spit that word at you - "slut!" It hurt, but it didn't hurt as much as you thought it would. It almost made you laugh. You realized that they didn't really care about your love life or about the trail of broken hearts you were supposedly leaving behind. They wanted a spectacle. They wanted a show. If you're going to be drunk, might as well be drunk in love.

It was easier after that. You knew the truth. The people around you knew the truth. You let everyone else believe what they wanted. You did what you wanted. You lived your life without worrying about being called a slut. They were going to call you one anyway. And if they call you a slut, you might as well make it worth it.

You gave just enough to keep them satisfied. Never anything too real. Never too much. Just enough that they wouldn't dare peak behind closed doors. Just enough to be able to live your life.

There were was a cost, of course. No one took you seriously. You dealt with the vague humiliation of the rumors constantly swirling about your hips and thighs and whispered sighs.

And though you inherited the Stark genius, no one cared about what you thought, what you had to say.

In that, the reporter was right, your love life was far more interesting than your thoughts on quantum mechanics or the military industrial complex. That was what you were known for.

For the most part, you were okay with it. You were willing to pay it all.

That was until you fell in love with Steve Rogers. Suddenly, you weren't willing to give them crumbs. You weren't willing to expose a love that felt this delicate.

You sit on the couch, huddled in your sweatpants, pensively staring at the blank screen.

This time, it was different. This wasn't a show, not a spectacle. It was real, an exposed nerve that the world decided was fair game. You were fair game and it was open season.

Steve settles beside you, draping an arm around your midsection. He kisses your temple, "Tony thinks it's probably best that you lay low for a while."

"Yes, well, my brother is the expert on PR damage control."

It wasn't the same though. You both knew it. Tony had done far worse with far more women. Yet, he would never pay the price you were paying in this very moment.

Steve's arms tighten around you like he's shielding you from the storm, "It's not right. It's not fair that you're being forced to sequester yourself. You're being punished but what exactly was your crime?"

"I fell in love with Steve Rogers, that was my crime." You fell for the man everyone wanted, the man who was in the wrong place at the right time.

"I'm sorry," he whispers against the crown of your head.

"For what?"

"You warned me this would happen."

It was true. You told him exactly what would happen, but even you didn't anticipate exactly how bad things would get.

You'd been with Steve for just under a year. And up until a week ago, only a select few knew. You both agreed to keep it a secret from the public. You felt protective over the love you shared, it was more real than anything else you'd ever had. You wanted to keep it to yourself, out of the hands of people that would tear you both to shreds without a second thought.

Steve felt the same. Though he was more worried about the enemies he made over the years.

It made sense to protect the relationship, to protect yourselves until you were both ready. You wanted to protect him from what you knew was lurking around the corner. Steve was still so new to the 21st century. Dating in the public eye wasn't easy. Dating a Stark wasn't easy. For almost an entire year, you used every publicity trick in the book - and it worked.

But then, you heard it, the whispers, rumors bubbled about your newest future ex-lover.

You only agreed to going public because everyone told you it was time, because they promised that the timing couldn't have worked out better than this. It was better to do this on your own terms than have it leaked.

No one knew how bad it would get.

"Are you sure? There's no going back after this," you whisper, standing in the hallway of your apartment. You could practically hear the cameras flashing outside your apartment. You'd never been this nervous to leave your apartment before. You'd been through the plan a million times. You'd be exposed to the cameras for a matter of seconds. Happy was already waiting with the door to your SUV open, ready for you to jump in. You'd walk outside holding Steve's hand - a sort of silent announcement to the world. "It won't be easy."

"I don't care," Steve promises, kissing the palm of your hand. "I'm tired of hiding. I'm proud to call you mine."

You tenderly stroke his cheek, "And if it blows up in your pretty face?"

He smiles down at you, "You're worth it."

"We'll pay the price, I guess." But deep down, you know. You'll pay the price, he won't.

The cameras had never been that loud before. Even though your announcement went off without a hitch, even though your publicist couldn't have been more pleased, not even they could have predicted how bad things would get.

It seemed like the whole world was calling you that four letter word.

At first, it was mostly online. People were mean, you knew that. You were prepared for nasty comments. Steve's most staunch supporters thought he could do better. People rejoiced in the spectacle your love life turned into. You were a laughing stock all over again. All that you were prepared for. Then some rabid fans leaked your phone number.

You decided that it would be a good time to disconnect anyway.

But it didn't end there. Not even close.

The day after you were expected to make an appearance for a charity you founded. It was just a quick 2 minute speech. And though the event had been throughly vetted, you'd never forget the way your blood ran cold when mid-sentence someone screamed that four letter word over and over again until security dragged them out. You continued until your speech was done, but there was no hiding the way your hands trembled.

From what you heard, the video was still making its rounds online.

You were expected to make an appearance two days after that. An event honoring your father. An event you poured your blood, sweat, and tears into to make sure it was impeccable, an event worthy of honoring your father. The same event you were practically uninvited from.

"Hello?"

"Hey, it's just me. I come in peace," Tony jokes.

"I'm glad," you sigh. "I was worried I was going to have to get another number."

Tony sighs into the phone, "How are you holding up?"

"I've been better."

"I'm afraid I don't come bearing good news."

"What now, Tony?"

"That event you had Friday night, the one for dad?"

You pinch the bridge of your nose. You already knew were this was going. "What about it?"

"They want me to take over for you."

You bitterly scoff, "This week just keeps getting better and better, doesn't it?"

"You say the word and I'll tell them to fuck off."

"No, don't do that. It's for dad."

"You planned this whole thing single-handedly. You deserve to be the one up there." You don't say a word. He's right, you both know it. It doesn't change the situation you've been put in. "You are still going, right? Come on, you have to go."

"They broke into my house, Tony."

"What? Are you okay?"

"Happy just told me," you explain, sparing Tony the most gory details. "The one in L.A. Apparently, it is now covered in spray paint. You wanna guess what they wrote?"

"Where was your security?" Tony demands.

"Here. Trying to keep people off my sidewalk."

"I'm so sorry."

"I just - I don't think it's a good idea. At least until I get more security."

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm glad you've got Steve there. At least I know he'll keep you safe."

You almost smile. Tony was never his biggest fan, but you mostly credit that to him being an overprotective big brother. And the situation you'd found yourself in did nothing to win Tony's over good graces, "It's not his fault, Tony."

"It kinda is, but I digress. Listen, we'll figure this out, alright? I'll go streak in front of the Tower if that'll take some heat off of you."

And though you effectively doubled your security in the last two days, nothing would change anyone's mind about you. You were the villain tainting their hero.

You broke down after that call, violently sobbing against Steve's shoulder. He just pulled you in even tighter.

It reminds you of why you're doing all this. So you can be together, out in the open. That in a world of boys, he's a gentleman.

You squeeze his hand, "You're worth it."

"I'm not worth having your reputation torn to shreds."

And maybe they're right about you. Maybe you do get love struck. Maybe his eyes are like the world's strongest liquor, and it went straight to your head. Maybe you do get love sick. Sure, your life has momentarily fallen apart. It's magic, madness, heaven, and sin, all rolled into one. But if they're going to call you a slut, it might be worth it for once. "But what if all I need is you?"

Steve Rogers Masterlist AnonymityIsFun Masterlist Inspired By Taylor Swift Masterlist

As always, let me know what you think! Reblogs and comments are always appreciated! 💛

Taglist: @marianita195 @meli18gonzalez @ludicbouquetfromearth @matchat3a @famousbreadcherryblossomsstuff @valoraxx @blue786sworld @buckyandgeraltsupremacy @geminigengar @ansaturn @ecolle @lexhalstead3 @ybflkmj @mediocre-daydreams @shanye1112 @thegirlnextdoorssister @toomanyfanficsbruh @moonlightreader649 @breathtaking-cynthia @mirikusashes @beans-and-toast @niyahcoca @katiechikin @elxvrr @antiheroxsblog @infamouslyclumsy @krissydclayton93 @buckysbarne @deadheadwbedhead @qualitygiantshoepsychic @whitexwolfxx310 @getosprettyboy @matchat3a

#anonymityisfunwriter #anonymityisfun #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers #captain america #steve rogers fic #steve rogers x y/n #captain america x reader #captain america x female reader #captain america x you #steven grant rogers #steve rogers angst #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers one shot #steve rogers au #steve rogers series #reader insert #x reader #inspired by taylor swift #slut! #slut! taylor swift #steve x reader #steve x you #steve rogers x fem!reader

[thisblogisaboutabook]

Cowboy Like Me - Part 4

Azriel x Reader

Part four of my fic inspired by the queens of my heart, Taylor Swift and Sarah J. Maas.

Reader meets another member of the Inner Circle!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 5

Warnings: alcohol

“This would look stunning on you!” The cheery blonde before me raved. Her golden locks falling over her shoulders as she held the gown up to my body.

When Azriel brought me to Velaris, I didn’t know what to expect. I’d heard rumors of the glowing city - the way the stars and fae lights reflected off the waters of the Sidra flowing through it, turning the river into a living rainbow. A city of diversity where lesser and higher fae alike roamed the streets in peace. Like most things in life, it sounded too good to be true.

But experiencing it was surreal - like jumping from one world to another far more advanced world. Various fae strode side by side in casual conversation as delightful aromas of spices and baked goods wafted past from the markets full of goods being peddled by smiling vendors. The streets lined with businesses for every need: restaurants, taverns, book shops, healing centers, grocers, apothecaries, even theaters and music halls.

Azriel brought me to a cafe for tea upon arrival where we sat on a cozy patio warmed by some form of magic similar to whatever warmed the Moonstone Palace. The tea blend imported from somewhere on the continent warmed my insides with a smooth flavor that even the most particular of tastebuds could appreciate. Azriel stuck with a classic breakfast tea. The way this male licked his lips after a sip warmed me inside even more than the steaming brew in my cup. Did he realize how beautiful he was?

“So….what do you think?” He asked.

“Beautiful” I marveled, my gaze locked in on him, the corded muscles of his arm, the way his eyes crinkled just slightly as his lips turned up into a smile, his bright hazel eyes filled with pride as he shared a place so special with me.

Right, the city.

I quickly averted my gaze from the beautiful male before me back to the streets. I continued, “I love it. The joy that flows effortlessly from the people is palpable. I can tell that your court takes excellent care of the citizens… they’re, lucky to have you.”

Perhaps my eyes were deceiving me but I could have sworn that a blush dusted his cheeks at the statement. He really did take pride in this place and its people.

We locked eyes again for a moment before Azriel broke the contact in favor of another bite from his powdered pastry, a bit of the confectioners sugar dusting the corner of his mouth.

Without thinking, I licked my thumb and leaned over the table, wiping away the powdered sugar.

Azriel went still, mouth slightly agape at the contact. It was my turn to blush. “I… I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me. You just had a speck of sugar.”

Azriel stared for another moment before blinking, snapping himself out of whatever overcame him. “Actually,” mischief alight in his eyes “you’ve got a bit just right-“ And before I could realize what he was doing, he swiped sugar off of his pastry and ran a stripe down my nose. “There.”

“You little-” I gaped. My sentence cut off as he threw his head back laughing, a warm, deep laugh that ran through me like a damn symphony. A symphony I would love to hear on repeat for the rest of my life. Before I could finish my statement a chuckle cut through the melody of Azriel’s voice as the High Lord and a gorgeous blonde female stepped up to us.

Azriel’s laughter promptly stopped as he looked to the two. Nodding his head in greeting.

Smirking, Rhysand turned to me. “I’d love to hear the rest of that sentence y/n.”

I grinned. Replying with, “I’ll let you use your imagination.” which earned another chuckle from the blonde and High Lord.

Azriel stood. “Y/N this is the Morrigan.” gesturing toward Mor. “Morrigan, this is Y/N, a temporary colleague of mine.”

Temporary.

Ow. Why did that sting a little?

Pull yourself together, girl.

“It’s an honor to meet you, lady Morrigan.” I nodded in reverence toward the famed female warrior.

“Oh please.” She waived a hand in friendly dismissal. “No need for formalities. Please, call me Mor.”

Azriel placed his palms on the table gently, pushing himself up and I followed suit. He informed me that he had a meeting to attend with Rhysand and was leaving me in the hands of Mor who not only was gifted in “truth” but apparently “retail therapy” as well, leading me to the boutique we were shopping in now.

“It is a lovely color and the material is divine.” I replied to Mor, taking in the intricate details of the dress she’d held up to me.

“Come on!” She pleaded. “You HAVE to try this on”

“Fine.” I shrugged. “But only if you try on that gorgeous number that you’ve been eyeing since we stepped in here.”

A wicked grin crossed her full lips. “Oh, you are so on.”

We spent the next several hours browsing shops. I ended up with far too many shopping bags filled with cosmetics, shoes, clothing, a few lacy under things, and even a pair of sapphire earrings. The dress that I settled on was to be altered to my exact measurements and then delivered to the “River House” as Mor had called it.

I had my own money but Mor insisted that she place the items on the High Lord’s tab. Not so begrudgingly, I agreed. I was here for work after all… and I was shopping for a ball that Rhysand intended for me to spy at.

Mor let out an exasperated whoosh of breath and placed a hand on her stomach. Feigning starvation, she insisted we stop for lunch at a new restaurant along the Sidra that she’d been dying to try out. She spirited away our bags into a pocket realm and looped her arm into mine as we walked to the eatery.

Mor ordered a rather expensive bottle of wine imported from the Summer Court along with several tapas plates for us to share.

We fell into easy conversation with eachother. Mor had a warmth about her that could likely get even the most closed off soul to open up to her. Perhaps it had to do with her gift of truth but I had a feeling it was just who she was. I never imagined that the fierce warrior I read about in my studies would be so kind and welcoming.

I only shared surface level details of my history and did not delve into the deeper details that I’d shared with Azriel. However, Mor and I seemed to read each other well - whatever I had experienced, she wouldn’t press further on. Just as I wouldn’t press further on whatever the sadness that lingered behind her eyes was due to when she talked of her past.

As the wine kicked in, Mor finally pressed, “So…. How has living with Azriel been? Hopefully not too full of brooding.” She smirked over the rim of her glass.

I snickered. “No, not all brooding. I smacked some sense into him one evening with a baguette and that seemed to set him straight.”

She burst into a laugh and it was probably the effects of the wine working against me but I admitted for the first time, “I’ve rather enjoyed his company.”

Mor waggled her eyebrows in return, pulling a roll of the eyes from me. “Not like that - he’s just not the cold, unfeeling spymaster that the world views him as.”

She gave a knowing nod in return. “You’re not wrong. He’s a really good male, Y/N. And he seems to have warmed up to you quite well.”

I scoffed. “And how would you know that- that he has warmed up to me?”

I anticipated a witty retort but her gaze remained soft, “He doesn’t laugh like he did this morning for just anyone.”

Swirling the remaining wine in my glass, I contemplated, a question looming in my mind.

Liquid courage don’t fail me now.

“Nesta told me that Azriel has been quiet lately, well, quieter anyway - that he doesn’t go to what she called ‘family dinners’ as often.”

Mor paused for a moment. I started to speak again, realizing my question came out as a statement but she spoke before I could clarify.

“Azriel is… well, he’s got a complicated past. He struggles to see his worth when to everybody else it’s right there in front of him. He thinks he’s undeserving of love, and withdraws when he gets too close to it. He’d rather admire from afar than risk rejection or getting hurt.”

My brows furrowed. A pant of sadness echoing through me. I understood what she was saying but remained curious as to why it changed recently.

Reading my expression, she continued. “I don’t know what exactly happened but he and Feyre’s older sister, Elain, not Nesta. They seemed to grow close after she was Made by the cauldron. Several of us wondered if they were or would become an item but things seemed to fizzle out. We thought perhaps Elain would pursue her mate but she hasn’t.”

“Oh…” I mumbled. “I see.”

If he’d been brooding and not coming around, something told me that he was not over whatever happened between them. My stomach turned over at the thought which felt completely absurd. I owed this male absolutely nothing and he owed me nothing. Sure, he told me he didn’t have a girlfriend but… he was free to see whomever he pleases. Our relationship was a professional one and nothing more.

Mor once again sensed my inner turmoil, raising her eyebrows and setting down her now emptied glass. “His laugh this morning, the one he let out before Rhys and I showed up, I haven’t heard a laugh like that from him in a long time. You’re good for him.”

I finished off my own glass of wine, allowing her words to settle between us. “We’re only colleagues.”

The blonde female’s responding smirk suggested she believed anything but. Graciously, she only waived a dismissive hand before standing up and taking my arm. “Come on, we’ve got more shopping to do.”

————

By the time we reunited with Azriel and Rhys, it was nearly dusk. Mor and I giggled, whispering to eachother as we approached, more than a little tipsy from the drinks we’d had at lunch, plus the champagne the ladies at one of the higher-end boutiques had given us.

My eyes locked with Azriel’s and my breath caught at the gleam of amusement in his shining hazel eyes. The little smirk forming at the corner of his mouth could be responsible for my entire undoing. Gods, this male was a gorgeous sight.

Rhys spared me from any awkwardness stemming from my lingering gaze by cutting in with a playful tone. “I extended an invitation to Azriel for you both to join us for dinner tonight, but he said you’d be too tired from your day of shopping. You don’t look that tired to me.”

Azriel looked at me as if to say “don’t”. Yet between the liquid courage and Mor’s encouraging elbow to the ribs - ouch - I defied him.

“I’m actually feeling rather invigorated, and hungry, after all of today’s excitement. Dinner sounds wonderful!”

Rhysand clapped his hands together, completely diverting his gaze from Azriel who was glaring daggers into him. “Excellent.” He extended an arm to me, his other arm motioning eastward. “This way to the River House.”

————

Azriel

Watching Y/N and Rhys walk arm and arm warmed something in his chest. Mor in turn looped her arm through Azriel’s as the other two walked ahead.

There was a time when Azriel would have relished this moment with Mor, his heart fluttering at the contact but now all he felt was the warmth of an old friend. He would always love Mor but as a sister, a dear friend, nothing more.

“So…” she broke his contemplative silence. “I like her.”

He rolled his eyes at the wicked smirk on her face. “Don’t start, Mor.”

“What?” She gasped, the portrait of mock innocence. “Can’t I tell my dearest friend that I enjoy the company of his-“ she cleared her throat “colleague.”

His lips pressed into a straight line, praying she didn’t notice the slight uptick in his heartbeat. “She’s just my partner for an assignment, Mor, nothing more.”

“Very well.” Mor replied. “I won’t press further. Just remember that my gift is truth and I have known you for over 500 years. I know your tells, Az.”

Changing the topic, he muttered “You had to encourage her to come to dinner, didn’t you?”

She didn’t miss the light blush that dusted his cheekbones. “What? Like I said, I enjoy her company.”

“Yes, but with the entire family? At the River House? I know you’ve noticed the tension there. Couldn’t you enjoy her company elsewhere?”

“Oh - I plan to.”

Before Azriel could dive into whatever she was implying with that statement, Mor added in, “by the way, what IS going on with you lately? Particularly in regard to a certain Archeron sister.”

“Gods, Mor.” Azriel stated. Squeezing the bridge of his nose in response to her pertinence. “Please, just drop it for now.”

Noting his expression and the agitated flare of his shadows, Mor huffed, “Ugh, fine.”

Pleased with the return to silence, Azriel returned his gaze to Y/N and his High Lord. Whatever they were talking about as the setting sun shrouded her in a deep golden-orange hue, had her throwing her head back, absolutely cackling. His shadows urged him to give them the go-ahead to see what they were talking about but he reined them in. A small secret smile ghosted his lips as he memorized the sight of the incandescent beauty before him, her laugh carrying through the air like a melody.

——————————————

Tags: @fxckmiup @saltedcoffeescotch

#sarah j maas #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #a court of silver flames #a court of frost and starlight #azriel #a court of mist and fury #a court of wings and ruin #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #morrigan #inspired by a song #inspired by taylor swift #acotar x taylor swift #cowboy like me #acotar x reader #shadowsinger #shadowsinger x reader #azriel fluff

[lunarproject]

i've been thinking about my grandfather a lot as i have gotten older; this piece explores a bit of the delayed grief i've been experiencing. it's currently up on my ko-fi for moon tier members. it'll be up for everyone on new years day!

#writblr #writing #poetry #writers of tumblr #grief #delayed grief #inspired in part by taylor swift's marjorie #my writing #inspired by taylor swift

[miss-andromeda]

i want your dreary mondays- for the taylor swift prompts!!

Another from Paper Rings! Let's do it - and thank you so much for the ask 💜🩷 Once again, non-canon, but considering they're dating, this is post-season 1 🩷

----------

Another day, yet somehow this one was worse than usual.

Maybe it was the fact that she woke up late and kept April and Casey waiting for her. Maybe it was the utter fool she made of herself in physics, during the demonstration. Maybe it was the fact that she forgot her lunch because of the aforementioned running late. Maybe it was when she was walking home, she stepped in mud and ruined her shoes - and then accidentally tracked mud into the apartment building, earning her a scolding from an elderly lady walking in behind her.

No, it was everything, just piling on top of each other - and culminating in an overall rotten day. 

When Andi was finally inside her apartment (and tossed her sneakers into the washing machine,) she slumped into her room and face-planted onto her bed, before groaning into her bubblegum comforter. 

She would’ve stayed there for the rest of the evening, were it not for the chorus of “Hurricane” (his favorite song from Salem’s Witches) blaring from her measly phone speaker. 

“Damn you and your charm, never causing me-”

“Hello?”

“Hi, enchantress. Did you just get home from school?”

Andi nearly teared up at hearing how warm and relaxed he sounded. “Yeah…do you want to come over?”

Donnie, however, ignored her question. “Are you okay? You sound…melancholy.”

She never knew how he could pick up on things like this so easily. “Um…not really. I just-” She interrupted herself with a deep sigh. “-it’s easier if you just come over.”

“I’ll be there in two shakes of a turtle’s tail.”

Her lips quirked up in a lopsided smile as he hung up. 

“Thanks, Don.”

----------

And sure enough, she heard soft tapping at her window less than 10 minutes later. 

She slowly rose out of bed, ignoring how her hair looked like a mutated bird’s nest, and managed a little smile as she saw him patiently waiting at her windowsill. She walked over slowly, before lifting the window with a little grunt, before leaning against the windowsill. “Hi.”

“How are you doing?”

Andi was about to say ‘fine,’ but Donnie read her like an open book. So she knew if she tried to downplay it, he would know she was lying. 

So…she told him the truth.

“Is drained a good word to use?”

“Depends. What’s the context?”

“90% of what happened today was terrible, and it was just…one after another.” Andi heaved a sigh as she moved aside, letting him step into her room. “So, my question stands; is drained a good word?”

“Definitely.” Donnie gently pulled her into a hug, letting out a sigh of his own as he felt her slump against him. “I’m sorry, enchantress.” He mumbled to her, a hand going to rub her back. 

“Not your fault…” Andi mumbled back, her face buried in his plastron at this point. “I’m sorry I even have to bug you with this.”

Donnie gently pulled her away, tilting her chin up to make her look at him. “You’re not bugging me. If you’re bothered about something, even something as simple as you just had a bad day, a dreary Monday if you will. I want to be able to help with that. Even if it means just holding you for a little while.” 

Rather than respond, Andi just put her arms around his neck and stood on her toes. “I love you…” She murmured, smiling weakly when she felt him kiss her head.

“I love you too.” Donnie softly replied, then pulled away to meet her eyes again. “How about I stay with you for a little while? You can tell me everything that happened today - and then I can help you forget about everything.”

“That…” Andi heaved one more sigh as she stood back on her feet, untying the ribbon from her hair, allowing her hair to fall down her back. “...that sounds wonderful.”

#all's fair in love and science #oc andi rhodes #donatello #tmnt 2012 #ask game #inspired by taylor swift

[ihavehyperfixationsanditshows]

MAIOR DO QUE TODO O CÉU

❝ Quando tudo acaba o que me faltam são as palavras

Pois como posso me atraver a descrever o luto que sinto por algo que sequer criou asas?

Rios de líquido salgado se escorrem pelos cantos dos meus olhos

Atravessam meus poros, caem em minha cama

Como se diz adeus para alguém que você ama?

Será que alguém dia irei te superar?

Irei conseguir olhar para aquele banco na praça sem imaginar você lá?

Será que algum dia me perdoarei por não ter tido coragem?

Coragem o suficiente para me confessar, coragem o suficiente para te amar

Te olhar nos olhos e deixar todas as palavras que gostaria de dizer desde que te conheci fluir

Mas eu nunca vou conseguir fazer isso, já é tarde, pois já te vi ir

O que eu não daria, agora, para te ter na minha porta

A chuva bate lá fora, o travão é forte o suficiente para tremer o mundo

Mas não o meu, pois o meu mundo era você

E agora nunca mais conseguirei te ver

Tudo o que posso dizer

É adeus

Adeus

Adeus

Adeus

Pois apesar de eu nunca ter te dito nada

Apesar de nunca ter me expressado

E me escondido atrás das grades de minha mente como uma réu

Você era maior do que todo o céu. ❞

━━━━ POEMA ORIGINAL.

#poema original #poemas #poema de amor #poesia #inspirado em taylor swift #bigger than the whole sky #bttws #taylor swift #original poem #original poetry #first poem #pt br #português brasileiro #brazilian portuguese #Spotify #inspired by taylor swift #fixed post #solely because it's the first poem that i'm actually pride of having written #and also to show that AQUI É BRASIL PORRA