#mixtape charm | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

theostrophywife · 2 months

Text

mattheo's mixtape.

pairing: mattheo riddle x reader.

song inspiration: lovesong by the cure.

author's note: this idea has been in my head for so long, but now it's finally out. strap in babes, we're simping for mattheo on main. something about those pretty brown eyes and angelic little curls just get me. your honor, i adore him.

The bell outside the door to the record store chimed softly as the boys ventured inside. Mattheo peered curiously at the buzzing neon sign, the slightly scuffed black and white vinyl floor, and the racks and racks of records lining the walls. Though he hadn’t been to the muggle side of Edinburgh, it didn’t look all that different from its magical counterpart.

Yet Mattheo felt like a fish out of water all the same.

Behind him, Theo continued rambling as they perused the vast collection of records laid out before them. “What songs have you picked out? Is there a theme? We’ll need to collect all the tapes for the cassette recorder and compile them all into a single tape.”

The slew of questions Theo threw his way was enough to make him feel overwhelmed. Mattheo was well aware that he was completely out of his depth here, but he was determined to learn. Admittedly, he was quite ignorant of the muggle world until you came into his life. The more you told him about the queer customs and traditions of the non-magical population, the more he began to crave your stories of taking the tube, eating fish and chips until you were sick, and visiting Brighton with your cousins over the summer holiday.

There was a whole world out there that you were a part of, which made him want to be part of it as well.

“You boys alright?” asked the kind woman behind the counter. "Would you like some help?"

Mattheo shied away from the attention, but as usual, Theo turned on his charm and flashed a winning smile at the older woman. “As a matter of fact, we do,” his friend drawled. “My mate here is looking to make a mixtape for his girlfriend.”

The woman smiled warmly. “How sweet. I remember those days. There’s nothing quite as magical as first love,” she said with a dreamy, faraway expression. “I’d be happy to help. What songs did you have in mind?”

After turning over his list, the woman, who turned out to be the owner of the record store, helped compile the cassettes Mattheo needed in order to make the mixtape. She patiently showed them how to record each track and slowed down the instructions so Mattheo could diligently write down notes.

As Mattheo waited for the next track to record, he watched as Theo tried and failed to flirt with the older woman.

“I’m flattered, dear. But I’m old enough to be your mum.” Mattheo snickered, causing his best friend to glare at him.

“Age is nothing but a number, Annette.”

“You’re a persistent one, aren’t you? I’m sure you’ll find your match someday, Theodore. As I have in my husband, whom I’m happily married to.” She turned over to Mattheo and smiled. “He was my first love too.”

Making small talk had never been Mattheo’s strong suit and you often teased him that engaging in polite conversation with a stranger every once in a while wouldn’t kill him. Without fail, he sarcastically responded that it genuinely might, which earned him an eye roll. A fond one, though. Followed by a lip bite as you attempted to conceal a smile.

“How long have you been together?” Mattheo asked curiously.

“Twenty years,” Annette answered proudly. “Though we were friends for ages before he finally mustered up the courage to ask me out.”

Theo snorted. “Sounds familiar.”

Mattheo swatted the back of his head. “My girl and I started out as friends too. Best friends, actually.”

“Hey!” Theo whined. “I take offense to that. I’ve known you longer. Only difference is that you and Y/N snog, which I’m more than open to if you asked.” The wink he sent Mattheo's way made the other boy blanch.

“Sorry about him.” It was a sentiment he was quite familiar with when it came to Theo. The twat tended to flirt with anything that had a pulse. Come to think of it, he wouldn't put it past Theo to chat up a corpse. Merlin knows Mattheo had witnessed his friend trying out a pick up line on the Grey Lady. “So, your husband. When did you realize he was the one?”

“There wasn’t a specific moment, per say,” Annette said thoughtfully. “It’s a culmination of our history together. Since we were friends for so long, Declan just knew me. He knew how I took my coffee and had it ready for me first thing in the morning. He knew that I hated driving in the snow and always offered to give me lift to work when it did. He knew that I had a soft spot for strays and never complained when I brought them home. Declan makes me feel safe. Like I could weather anything the world threw at me as long as he was by my side. I guess when you know, you know."

Mattheo pondered her words. He couldn’t help but recall all the times that his life felt like a never ending shit storm, like it would swallow him whole and drown him from the weight of his troubles. Yet at the end of the day, he always knew that after the storm came the rainbow. That’s what you were for him. You colored his world so brightly that the dark seemed inconsequential compared to your light.

“Y/N makes me feel like that too,” Mattheo declared. “She’s patient and kind. She’s the type of person that always sees the good in people. She saw it in me even when I couldn’t see it myself.”

Behind him, Theo sniffled as he patted his shoulder. For all his jokes and sarcasm, his friend was actually a hopeless romantic deep down. “For Salazar’s sake, Mattheo. Don’t make me bawl like a baby in front of the pretty lady.” Theo wiped at the corner of his eyes rather dramatically. “If Y/N doesn’t marry you someday, then I will. I bet my legs would look amazing in a white dress.”

At that, Mattheo chuckled. He was suddenly glad that his best friend was more than willing to be dragged along in Mattheo’s endeavors to impress his girl. Salazar knew he never would've gotten this far without Theo's self-proclaimed expertise on all things muggle, thanks to his Advanced Muggle Studies class.

As they wrapped up, Mattheo thanked Annette for all her help. Theo promised to come back and winked over his shoulder as Mattheo gathered all of his supplies. The older woman smiled at him as they parted ways.

"Best of luck, Mattheo. Though I doubt you need it. Thank you for indulging an old woman. It was genuinely a pleasure to be able to help you today."

"No, thank you. Y/N is going to love it."

"Your girlfriend is a very lucky girl."

Mattheo shook his head. "I'm the lucky one. This is the least I could do to show her how much I..." he trailed off, trying to find the right words. "How much I care for her."

Care didn't seem like a strong enough word, but it was close. Mattheo wasn't sure he could fully verbalize the intensity of what he felt for you. You weren't just his girlfriend. You were his best friend, too. His confidante. His rock. You were everything to him.

“Remember what I told you. When you know, you know." She patted Mattheo's shoulder. "You talk about Y/N like I talk about my husband. It's clear that she's very special to you. Don't let go of that one."

Mattheo smiled to himself, his cheeks flushing. “I won't.”

The midnight moon glowed above the Scottish Isles, enveloping the rocky shores of the Black Lake with a chilly breeze that made you shudder even underneath the comfort of your red and gold striped sweater.

“Are you cold?” Mattheo asked softly, his voice echoing through the empty beach.

Before you could respond, your boyfriend shrugged off his coat and wrapped it around your shoulders. With a shy smile, you thanked Mattheo and flushed as he took your hand in his. As you continued on your late night stroll, he cleared pebbles in your path to ensure that you didn’t trip over them on the way to the dock.

It was the little things—the small gestures that Mattheo enacted on a daily basis that made you fall for him even more. Though the relationship was fairly new, the connection between you was undeniable. Perhaps because you started out as potions partners, which eventually blossomed into friendship and now you couldn’t even remember a time when he wasn’t part of your life.

The two of you settled at the end of the dock and the rickety wood creaked underneath the weight, adjusting to its visitors as Mattheo cuddled you into his side. Warmth radiated off of him, heating you from the inside out with a pleasant flush. Mattheo chuckled as you shoved your cold hands underneath his sweater, curling his fingers around yours and warming you up like your own personal heater.

“So, why did you want to come out here tonight?” you asked after a moment.

As you peered up at him, the moonlight kissed your boyfriend’s features, illuminating the sharp edges of his jawline and cheekbones, curving down the slope of his nose and stopping right above his Cupid’s bow where his soft, plush lips curled into a shy smile as he blinked down at you.

The flush on his cheeks was almost an exact match to the crimson scarf around your neck. He absentmindedly fidgeted with your fingers, his chocolate brown eyes flickering over your face nervously. Mattheo looked so shy and earnest, so unlike the bad boy persona that everyone else seemed to attribute to your boyfriend.

“I made you something,” he stated. You watched as he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a cassette tape that you hadn’t noticed before. “I noticed that you listen to music while studying or walking through the halls, so I thought I’d compile a few of my favorite songs for you.”

Your heart warmed at this beautiful boy. “You made me a mixtape?”

Mattheo nodded, his angelic curls grazing his cheeks. “I can’t take all of the credit. Theo helped me quite a bit. I wasn’t sure how to make the tape for you, but he did since he’s taking Advanced Muggle Studies. We went into town last weekend and this lovely woman from the record shop showed us how to track and record the songs. I picked the ones that remind me of you the most.”

You looked down at the cassette tape and smiled. The front was covered in little red hearts and spelled out in your boyfriend’s familiar scrawl was Matty’s Mixtape. As if that weren’t enough to make you swoon, underneath the tape was a small booklet with more of Mattheo’s handwriting. You smiled at his selection of songs. There was a mix of Queen, the Cure, the Clash, and of course, the Smiths. It was like having a little piece of Mattheo in your hands.

“I made you a booklet too. There’s a tracklist with reasons why I picked the songs,” Mattheo shuffled beside you, his body language conveying an uncharacteristic shyness. “I also drew a couple of things.”

Sure enough, the booklet was filled with your boyfriend’s drawings. Your eyes filled with tears as you turned the pages. Mattheo rarely showed anyone his art. He was incredibly protective of anything he created since it showed a certain vulnerability. The fact that he was trusting you with it wasn’t something you took for granted.

You traced over the drawings with a fond smile. There were portraits of you on one page, while the others contained memories that you were quite attached to. Your first date at the Three Broomsticks. The first time you wore his quidditch sweater to a Slytherin vs. Ravenclaw match. The day you shared a cup of hot chocolate at Madam Puddifoot’s when the two of you were just friends. They were all in here, immortalized on paper.

Beside you, Mattheo watched anxiously as you flipped through the pages. When you got to the last one, you grinned up at him. “Matty, these are incredible.”

“Really?” He asked, sounding a bit unsure. “You don’t think they’re cheesy?”

“No, I love it!” You threw your arms around him and squeezed your boyfriend into a bear hug. He chuckled, burying his face in your hair and savoring the feel of you in his arms. As you pulled away to face him, Mattheo tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear. His heart hurt just to look at you. He really couldn’t believe you were his. You smiled softly. “And I love you.”

You said it firmly, like it was a matter-of-fact. Like you were reciting a truth as fundamental as gravity.

“You love me?”

“I do,” you replied with a smile. “I love you, Mattheo Riddle.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely positive.”

“I just don’t want you to feel like you have to say it because I made you this mixtape and gave you cheesy drawings—”

He stopped mid-sentence as you grabbed his face with both hands. Mattheo softened at the fierce determination in your eyes. “Mattheo. You’re the best boyfriend I’ve ever had. Before that, you were the best friend I’ve ever had too. You treat me like a queen and I never have to worry about other girls trying to talk to you because you never even give them the time of day. You make me soup when I’m sick. You give me your jumpers when I’m cold. You bring me coffee when I’m pulling all nighters. I couldn’t ask for a better boyfriend, so yes. I love you. Not because of the mixtape or the drawings, but because you’re you.”

Mattheo was taken aback. Before you, he never thought he was capable of caring for someone so deeply. You were ingrained in him. It was like the universe had cleaved his soul in two and he’d spent an eternity searching for you. You were his other half—the better half of him that he’d been missing all along. Now that he found you, he had no intention of letting you go.

The lovestruck expression on his face warmed your heart. His eyes—those sweet, warm brown eyes made you feel weak in the knees. Mattheo cradled your jaw and looked at you like you were the only girl in the world.

“I love you too, Y/N.”

You smiled as he leaned forward, bringing your lips to his in a tender kiss. He sighed in relief like he’d been waiting for this all day, fingers snaking through your hair as your body melted into his. Mattheo hummed, peppering kisses all over your face. You giggled as he pecked your cheeks, nose, jaw, and neck.

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” he declared with every kiss.

Burying your face into his neck, you inhaled the familiar scent of amber, cinnamon, and leather. Mattheo sighed as you scratched his scalp.

“Will you tell me about the songs while we listen to them?” you murmured against his skin.

Mattheo nodded as his curls tickled your cheek. “Of course, sweetheart.”

He pulled out a cassette player and popped the tape in. You cuddled into his side, smiling as he presented you with one half of the headphones. The soft crooning sound of the Smiths filled your ears as Mattheo played with your hair, telling you little anecdotes about the band and how Theo almost knocked over the cassette recorder while he tried to flirt with the record shop owner.

You chuckled as you listened, picking up the sweet lyrics that made Mattheo choose the songs in the first place. You loved each one of his picks, but the best song by far was the sound of his heartbeat thudding in your ears, syncing with your own as it beat for him and him alone.

#you guys am i in love with this man? maybe #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo x you #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo riddle fluff

1K notes · View notes

byhees · 2 months

Text

when you accidentally hurt yourself.

엔하이픈 ・ female reader + word count 600 genre fluff established relationship non-idol au warnings not proof-read skinship kissing petnames mention of injuries, cuts — more

a/n. requested!

heeseung would be so incredibly sweet; the way he’d tend to your injuries with such gentle touches— “you alright, baby?” he’d ask, looking up to meet your gaze, his hands in the midst of bandaging the cut on your knee; would raise a hand to softly wipe away fallen tears, planting a pretty kiss on your lips to make you feel all better…

jay would, initially, begin nagging at you; although there’s a furrow painted on his features, the soft look in his eyes doesn't fail to show his care and concern— “baby... didn’t i tell you before that it’d be dangerous?” he’d lightly chide, tending to the wound on your leg with soft caution; wouldn’t tear his gaze from you, worry-filled eyes watching as you carry out daily tasks with a limp— would offer his help in a heartbeat…

jake would be so soft; doesn’t hesitate to rush to your side, an arm swiftly wrapping around your build to steady and support your bodyweight— his first priority would definitely be your comfort; wouldn’t wait a mere millisecond to carry you in his arms, resting you at a bench nearby; “oh gosh... did you sprain your ankle? do you think you're still able to walk?” he’d ask, though it seems natural to him that he piggyback you back home, no matter the answer; would press sweet kisses all over your face as consolation…

sunghoon would be so meticulous, despite the injury being a small cut on your finger; “is this okay, baby? or does it hurt a lot?” he’d check in with you almost minutely, pure concern clouding his eyes— and when you’d reply with a little giggle, he’d only shoot his gaze towards your direction, lips curling downwards in a small frown; “what's so funny?” he’d ask, lips puckering in a tiny pout; ‘charming’ would be a better word, you think— especially when he’s carefully angling a huge bandaid over your little paper-cut…

sunoo would be gentle beyond the capabilities of words; the way he’d softly gaze up at you, slipping a small “this will hurt a little”, before lightly dabbing the cut with a disinfecting wipe; would probably pick out the cutest bandaid for you. “be careful, okay? it hurts to see you in pain,” he’d add, lightly ruffling the top of your head with adoration brimming from his gaze…

jungwon would, unexpectedly, be really serious; if it were to be concerning any other thing, he’d probably be more lighthearted— your health and safety, however? that tops the list of importance; doesn’t waste another second to dash over, one knee to the ground as he examines the gaping wound on your leg; although his brows dig deeply into his skin, a disgruntled expression glued onto his face, he’d try his best to make his concern less obvious, not wanting you to worry. “c’mon baby, i’ll carry you on the way back— it’s no biggie,” he’d add, flashing a sweet smile towards your direction…

riki would be so worried; one second you two were jokingly fooling around, the next you were laying on the ground, a pained expression tugging on your features— would immediately drop everything and anything just to check up on you; would be so tender, yet cautious, not wanting to be the one inflicting pain on you— “is this okay for you? let me know if it gets uncomfortable”, he’d softly say, tending to the cut on your leg with pure gentleness; “gosh.. you’re so clumsy, baby”, he’d lightly chide, shaking his head in soft disbelief— best believe that he’d spoil you with affection and tons of kisses throughout your recovery…

taglist open! @halcyoni-ki @wondipity @yjjungwon @shysakuno @niktwazny303 @vnsux @minhosify @haechansbbg @yeomha @stepout-09-15 @chansburgah @sona-verse01 @lilly-bubblelops @smouches @mrchweeee @luvistqrzzz @nwjws @ibsysbsfsunsbs @rikisly @amyysfics @mixtape-racha @berry-and-kkami @rikislady @gweoriz @czlluvriki @okwonyo @okwons networks! @kflixnet @enhanet @k-labels

549 notes · View notes

lovings4turn · 2 months

Text

જ⁀➴ 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐊 . . . (𝐑. 𝐋.)

— you're constantly reminding remus how pretty he is. but there's one place you think he looks the prettiest: between your thighs

+ contains smut, oral (f!recieving), praise

+ part of my 'be my valentine' mixtape series !

pretty.

that was the first word that popped into your head when you thought of remus. of course there were others. thoughtful, charming, funny, the list went on.

but pretty always screamed out at you, a neon sign flickering in the dark streets of your mind. especially in moments like these.

remus’ head was buried in between your thighs, large, calloused hands gripping your ankles to prevent you from closing your legs and restricting his access to your dripping cunt.

whines fell from your bitten lips as he teased you, gently nipping at the plush of your thigh before soothing the area with placating lick.

overwhelming desire consumed you, yet when he looked up at you, it was like your mind turned to mush.

“pretty.”

it slipped out of its own accord, the syrupy affection that laced the word coating you both in the sweet haze.

remus hummed into the skin of your thigh, shooting you a lazy grin. his hair was an absolute mess, thanks to your hands never leaving the strands for more than two minutes at a time.

“talking about y’self there, darling,” remus responded, voice thick and low.

a soft kiss was pressed to your clit to punctuate his sentence, and remus chuckled as you involuntarily bucked your hips to chase the feeling.

remus was far stronger than you, but when he pushed your thighs further apart, held them tighter to stop you from moving, it was gentle.

you’d mentioned it to him before, how he always seemed to treat you more delicately than you knew he was capable of. remus had only shrugged, saying he was gentle when he wanted to be. he was gentle with important things. with you.

even now, when he was practically devouring you, his movements were soft and calculated, careful not to grip your thighs hard enough to bruise.

his chin glistened with your slick as though he was a starved animal, primal insticts taking over as lapped eagerly at your core and moaned into you at the taste.

your hands found his hair once more, returning to their rightful place at the base of his scalp as you pulled him impossibly closer, movements fuelled by want and want alone.

remus, as always when it came to you, complied and flattened his tongue.

his tongue delivered a broad lick along your folds before he sucked at your clit with an intensity he’d reserved for when you inevitably begged him for more.

lost in an attack of pleasure, your fuzzy head could only grasp at one thing.

“mm, pretty.”

#.° ༘🗝️⋆₊ becca’s drabbles #𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 becca's 'be my valentine' special #remus lupin #remus lupin smut #remus lupin x reader #marauders smut #marauders x reader #marauders x you #remus lupin x you

738 notes · View notes

tremendum · 2 months

Text

heaven is a place on earth; joel miller

prologue; im a loser, baby!

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:

au (pre-outbreak, altered ages), Joel Miller x fem!nanny!reader. dedicated to the anon who suggested this trope.

↬ series masterlist main masterlist

↬ it's 2000. you're freshly single, three weeks away from being evicted, and your coworker knows a hot, single dad who is hiring for a nanny. you'll take anything you can get.

↬ warnings; tagged 18+ for eventual smut and mature themes. MDNI. age gap (reader is 22, joel is 35), fiscal anxieties, allusions to a shitty ex. if your name is michelle, norah, or dan, you get to be twins with my ocs in this series <;33

series mixtape, song one; Loser, Beck. 1994.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:

"fuck."

your voice hisses through the rows of books you stalk down, legs carrying you with fervor towards the front desk. "fuck, fuck, fuck!"

you whirl past a mother reading a children's book to her toddler and wince at your language, mouthing sorry! at the baby as you pass. avoiding the harsh glare of its mother, you mutter under your breath. "shit."

in your hurry, your hip slams into the wooden corner of the front desk; a small grunt of pain hisses through your clenched teeth as you trudge up to your swivel chair.

"god, damn it!" you bemoan, lowering yourself into your chair and sighing heavily as you drop your head to your hands.

"so...it can't be good news." Michelle says to you, quietly, as she grimaces apologetically to the mother who walks towards the exit, shielding her stupid baby's ears from your foul mouth. you ignore the woman's harsh look of judgement, instead biting your lip, willing yourself to calm down.

with a suck of deep breath you shake your head. "no, it is not."

she sends you a consolatory look and to this you groan, "the rent's too much here. thought I'd get this one, I really did." you mutter helplessly, picking up several of the books from the drop bin to check them back in on your computer. "they made me endure four interviews. all for nothing."

a consolatory hand graces your shoulder and you offer your coworker a small smile of gratitude. she sends you a smile so hopeful that you nearly forget the desperate state you're in - the heavy fear of starting new.

"we'll find you a good one. you're smart, marketable, charming..." Michelle shakes her head as you move to protest, pointing at you. "-no, don't even start. we'll get you some more interviews. in the meantime...Dan and I were thinking. we have a couple hundred we could spare this month, just to..." she glances at your shocked stare, shrugging her shoulders. "-you know, get you on your feet. it's not easy to restart, especially after a breakup."

your heart drops at her words, a crawling feeling of shame licking your throat as you shake your head.

eyes stinging, you stare down hard at your keyboard, where your nails pick at the F key. "I couldn't- I couldn't ask that of you. thank you, but I-" you shake your head. "don't do that, really Michelle."

she waves her hand, "we insist. but Dan wants to discuss it in person, so we'll be having you over for dinner soon, okay?" she insists, and you hide your burning face between your hands. "this is too much." you say with a grumble, shaking your head.

"think of it as a gift." she says hopefully with a shrug. "your birthday's soon, isn't it?"

you sigh, smiling over at her as you shake your head. "at least let me do something for you in repayment. do you need any rooms painted? gardening? babysitting?" you offer, sliding slightly towards her to take a sip of her coffee.

"we'll talk about it." she agrees, but you know she isn't going to ask you to do any of it; she and her husband are much too kind.

at your silence she just hums triumphantly, typing away on her keyboard as she files a damaged book report. the library hums with its inherent stillness, the fluorescents flickering as you busy yourself filing your own work for the evening.

five whole minutes pass in silence; a feat for you and the woman who sits just beside you. as you work idly, your eyes jump back to the payphone on the wall across the room where you'd heard the words: thank you for your interest, but we decided to go with another candidate.

whatever. they don't deserve you, anyways. and honestly, the job had shitty benefits.

a sharp sigh from you gives Michelle the narrow opportunity to swivel her chair to face you, as if she'd been waiting for an opportunity to speak.

"you know," she puts on the look of innocence, "I was thinking..."

you fix her with a look - the last few suggestions for money she'd given you were take up dancing (which you would certainly consider, if the nearest club wasn't fourteen miles away) or marry rich. for a woman who's still with the same man she was with in high school, she sure has an imaginative mind.

you're a month away from losing your new apartment and you cannot fathom moving back in with your ex; you'll take anything. Michelle holds her hands out in defense at your glare. "listen, Norah's got a teammate whose father is looking for a nanny."

you let the words sink in as you spin your chair to her in interest. nanny?

"-he owns a construction business. he mentioned looking for a nanny for weekdays at the girls' tournament last Saturday."

you sigh, touched that she'd thought of you, but exasperated. "I work weekdays!" you sigh. she lifts a brow, leaning closer, "yes, but..." she looks around conspiratorially, "-I think Joel would give you higher pay - and you can still work here on weekends."

your brows raise in shock, hope growing in your chest. "what, is he loaded?"

at this, she laughs.

you blink as she holds a hand to her chest, chuckling to herself, leaving you unaware of whatever was so funny to her. "no, no." she calms herself as you stare, less amused. "-but he loves his girl. definitely the type of man who will pay well to make sure his baby's safe."

your lip is tugged between your teeth as you consider; "kids don't really like me."

it’s not even true- kids love you as much as you love them, but something self-sabotaging within you begs to differ.

Michelle snorts, "Norah loves you." she counters; you cross your arms, "well, that's different. she's, like, an eleven year old version of you."

she grins at this; Michelle has known you since you were a sophomore, just freshly out of the dorms - she may be older than you by over a decade and a half, but she and her husband are the closest to family you have in this part of the country.

you nod. "please, will you give him my information? I need any money I can get. I'll be the best nanny in the world."

you're convincing yourself more than her, but she smiles all the same. "I'll see him when I pick Norah up after practice this afternoon. I'll share your number with him, okay?"

you have the next day off of work; you spend it unpacking some boxes and organizing, taking a walk around the new neighborhood, trying to befriend the building cat with a can of tuna.

you watch people pass in the street, distracting yourself from the disappointment of leaving your old neighborhood, even if it'd been infested by your cheating ex.

the opportunity to nanny this summer lingers in the back of your mind as you walk past a park, watching as the kids clamber and scream and laugh; you smile to yourself, watching a young mother push a child on the swing.

sometime past noon, an unknown number texts your cellphone and you pause the TiVo to flip it open eagerly.

Hey there, it's Joel Miller. Our mutual friend Michelle passed along your number. I've been looking for a nanny for my daughter and heard great things about you. Would you be open to chatting sometime this week? I'd love to discuss a nannying opportunity with Sarah. Let me know if that works for you.

Thanks, Joel

you stare at the words, reading them slowly with a pounding of excitement in your chest. suddenly, the walls of your new, too-expensive apartment seem brighter, the sun opens up the sky - you nearly call Michelle in a burst of excitement before even thinking of a response.

an inkling of doubt pulls at the back of your head; the man seems kind enough - even if he texts like he's a hundred years old, Michelle and Dan know him personally. you slide your phone, staring at the phone screen for a moment before starting to type out a response.

Hi Joel! Nice to hear from you, thanks for reaching out. I'd be happy to meet this week to chat about Sarah and nannying opportunities. I am available in the evenings most days, so if there's any time that works best for you, I can make that happen.

knuckles cramping, you roll your eyes at your effort to be professional over text. you tweak your message several times before signing your name, shutting your eyes, and hitting the send button.

Joel doesn't respond until very late; nearly eleven in the evening, suggesting a time later in the week and telling you his address. Michelle is ecstatic for you, even helping you draft up ways to tell your boss you'll be going part-time in a professional way; it's accepted gracefully, and now all you have to do is hope this Joel Miller can pay enough.

he hires you an hour after meeting up.

to your relief, his daughter Sarah is a darling; big eyes and a bright smile that hides no malicious intent or snobbery. your anxiety slipped away the moment Joel opens their front door, replaced instead with flustered surprise in your lower belly at the man who stood before you.

why hadn't Michelle at least warned you?

he's taller than you'd imagined, and much more handsome; his dark hair is slightly tousled, a faint hint of stubble framing his jawline, biceps defined by a dark gray shhirt. he's curt but chivalrous, voice a low baritone and veins that trickle up his thick forearms golden skin glowing as he talks.

and jesus christ, his eyes - the memory of how they'd scaled over your body, taking you in as you'd stood in the dying sunlight on his doorstep that first time. dragging slowly, eyes dark and shrouded by long lashes, as you'd introduced yourself. how he'd cleared his throat and let you through with a half smile and a nod.

you'd had to try your hardest to keep your eyes on his as he explained he'd need you most weekdays because he has several new projects and has been working longer hours recently.

it took Sarah all of a minute and a half of shyness and hiding behind her father's leg before you showed her your tamagotchi; immediately after, she decided you were new best friends - with her hand in yours, she eagerly showed around the house in a half-intentional tour, pointing out the best hide and seek spots and showing you her collection of toys.

by the end of the evening, Joel was shaking your hand and agreeing on a bi-weekly payment much higher than you'd expected.

he'd insisted on walking you to your beat-up car, smiling as he opened your driver's door with a shrug - it's dark out, don't want to let my new sitter walk alone at night, do I?

you'd tried your hardest to keep your thoughts professional, but the moment your head fell to your pillow that night, you knew you were fucked.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:

up next: chapter 01 ; as long as you don't care there is no longer a taglist; follow @tremendumnotifs to be notified when i post.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:

#joel miller smut #joel x reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel smut #joel the last of us #joel tlou #joel miller series #heaven is a place on earth; tremendum

500 notes · View notes

hairmetal666 · 1 year

Text

Steve and Eddie don't like each other at first. Or, no, that's not quite right. They're still bonded from everything. They're friends, sort of, but they don't spend time together outside the group, have trouble talking one-on-one.

Steve doesn't think about it much. So, he and Eddie won't ever be real friends, okay. He's a little disappointed, but mostly he doesn't understand how he feels about the other guy. He's always anxious when Eddie's around, clumsy and stuttering, infected with Robin's tendency to nervous chatter. It doesn't make sense. It's just Eddie. But that's the thing. It's Eddie and Steve doesn't know how to act around him.

And Eddie? Well, he spends a lot of time avoiding Steve because the fucking cascade of butterflies he gets every time Harrington is around. He knows what it means, knows even he isn't immune to the Harrington charm, but he needs to be. He needs to keep his heart safe. So, he keeps his distance because Steve Harrington is not for him and never will be.

It changes during movie nights. First it's teasing Dustin and Mike, mocking whatever horrible movie the kids put on, and then it's inside jokes, and playful bickering, and evenings with just the two of them drinking beer and sharing joints.

Then it's August. It's too hot everywhere and Steve's parents are home, so they're in Steve's car, driving with no destination, a couple joints in Eddie's jacket pocket and a six-pack in the trunk. They're listening to a mixtape Eddie made Steve, a bunch of metal. Steve still doesn't get it but there are a couple of songs he enjoys. Rainbow in the Dark starts--this is one Steve likes, reminds him of Eddie and not just because it's Dio. Sun filters through foliage and into the car windows, backlighting Eddie's curls like he's some kind of deity, beautiful and ethereal, not part of this world.

Steve starts singing along to the music, can't help himself. His friend throws him a beaming smile, big enough that Steve thinks his heart stops. He smiles back. He and Eddie sing the rest of the song together, and Steve is...he's content. He's happy. He hasn't felt this way since--well fuck--since 1983. Their eyes meet again, gazes linger, warmth pools in Steve's chest and low in his stomach.

Oh. He thinks. That's what this is. It settles something inside him, the knowing.

Time passes, they get closer, share a bed most nights. Doesn't matter where as long as they're together. Sleep better this way, both of them.

They're at the trailer when it happens, sharing a joint, loosely tucked against each other in bed.

"I've never had a friend like you," Eddie says. His eyes stay fixed on the smoke he exhaled. "I know you and Robin are--like, I get it. But you're--for me--"

"Yeah," Steve agrees. He flushes from his chest to forehead. "For me too."

It's enough, they both think. They're standing on the edge of more have been for months, but this? This is good. There's no need to push, to force. They're hurt, Steve thinks. They're healing. And they have time.

Corroded Coffin plays their first show back at the Hideout in December. Steve's never seen Eddie like this, performing. His shirt is cropped and artfully torn, his jeans more rip than pants. He's wearing eyeliner and his hair is wild. And the way he moves, sinuous and sleek, hips thrusting in a tantalizing rhythm as he shreds on the guitar. Steve wants so badly he feels it in his teeth.

He finds Eddie smoking behind the Hideout after the set. His eye are too bright, his smile manic, the adrenaline keying him up to the highest setting of Eddie. Steve knows he matches the energy, can't help it.

Eddie throws himself into Steve's arms, wrapping around him tight enough that no space lingers. The musician presses his face into Steve's neck, nuzzling, lips pressing against his pulse point. They touch always, share a bed and cuddle, but never like this; nothing like this. Steve pulls Eddie closer, and groans at the mutual swivel of their hips.

Eddie's breath comes in panting bursts, and Steve thinks, "here it is, finally, finally," but the door next to them bangs open and they jump apart at the noise.

Their friends and the rest of the Corroded Coffin guys come out, frolicking and shouting, complimenting Eddie on the show. If anyone noticed them embracing, notices the way they both adjust their clothing to hide their matching arousal, they don't say anything.

Steve wakes early the next morning, early enough that Eddie doesn't even stir beside him, hair wild and eyeliner smeared.

He gets out of bed, starts breakfast, chocolate chip pancakes and bacon, Eddie's favorite. He's so intent on cooking that he doesn't hear the other man come up behind him, doesn't realize he's even awake until a warm body presses to his back, long-fingered hands slipping under his t-shirt, tracing the scars on his stomach. He leans into it without a thought. They touch all the time, but they don't touch like this.

"Watcha making, sweetheart?" Eddie whispers.

"Your favorite," Steve answers.

Eddie makes a little sound, almost a whimper, and presses his face to Steve's neck. Steve lifts his chin, leaning into Eddie and offering more. Warm lips press against his jaw, down to the moles on his throat. A moan slips from his lips as he grinds his ass into Eddie's hardness. The other man groans, grabbing at Steve's hips.

Somewhere in the press of their bodies, Steve has the presence of mind to turn. He lifts his hands, cups Eddie's jaw, thumbs caressing the stubbled, scarred skin of his cheeks. "Okay?" He asks. His voice shakes.

Eddie's eyes are wide, shining, and he swallows hard. Steve knows he's overwhelmed, knows that the words won't come. Instead, Eddie nods, and finally finally they kiss.

Steve is flying. His blood soars in his veins, his heart lifts off. It was always supposed to be this. Always supposed to be them.

It was slow. It was easy. It was small jokes, and long looks, and little touches, and singing in cars and best friends and sharing beds.

His heart belonged to Eddie Munson for months. It will belong to him forever.

3K notes · View notes

tarotwithavi · 6 months

Text

What makes you hauntingly beautiful?

How to choose a pile?

Close your eyes and take a deep breath and ask the angels to show you the right pile for you and open your eyes. The first pile that catches your attention is the right pile for you.

Masterlist

Paid services

Pile 1

Your stunning, haunting beauty comes from knowing the value of slowing down, not just lazing around, but in taking real moments to think deep—kind of like finding peace in just thinking. You're a boss at stepping back, seeing that downtime and recovery are as important as the daily grind. That insight of yours? It's like a mysterious, magnetic power. The way you make choices isn't just about choices; it's about having a clear vision and following your gut. It's like you've got this inner compass steering you, giving off this cool vibe of purpose and confidence. You're beautiful in how you appreciate fresh starts, personal growth, and handling real-life stuff. There's a down-to-earth vibe about you that's super attractive, as if you totally get how embracing new opportunities and making them something big is where it's at. You've got this cool vibe of accomplishment and success. It's like you've been around the block and learned a ton, and it shows in the way you carry yourself. You've got this wisdom and worldly thing going on in how you present yourself. Fate seems to be your buddy on this life trip, and you carry it off so gracefully. That grace you've got in dealing with life's ups and downs adds this layer of depth to your beauty. You kinda know that life changes all the time, and it gives this mysterious charm to how you roll. Your strength? Man, it's a mix of soft and tough. It's not just physical but also emotional and mental. It's built on understanding tough times, almost a beautiful sadness that's super interesting. The real deal beauty is in how you face conflicts and challenges. There's this sense of organized chaos, where you handle friction and competition in a way that's more like a dance, showing off your adaptability and staying cool under pressure. And there's something crazy fascinating in how you deal with giving up and letting go. It's not about losing out but gaining a fresh perspective. There's this almost out-of-this-world beauty in your ability to move on and see things from a completely different angle, finding beauty in the stuff that's surprising and uncharted. Your haunting beauty is like a mixtape of these cool details—being calm, driven, down-to-earth, wise, accepting, strong, adaptable, and letting things go. It creates this totally mysterious allure that's both captivating and spellbinding.

Pile 2

Your eerie beauty is like this intricate dance between real powerful endings and those kick-ass beginnings. You give off this vibe that's kind of magnetic but also a bit unsettling. Your energy is intense, like a fire burning inside an adventurer , your moves, your determined eyes, it's all in there. You're not someone easily figured out, your depths are like a maze. There's something cool about your fearlessness, the way you tackle your fears straight on. It's this bold part of you that makes you such a mystery. You've grappled with your own inner monsters, and that struggle has really shaped you, leaving this mark of toughness that's both fascinating and puzzling. The times you've spent alone have totally changed you. They've chiseled your soul, creating this calm strength that's weirdly attractive. It's like you've found something special in the dark corners, finding comfort where most people wouldn't even dare to look. But even in your alone times, you've got this pull with others. Your interactions have this magnetic sweetness, kind of like the mix of life's bitter moments. The way you dive into happy stuff with a hint of sadness? That's what sets you apart. Your talent for handling both the shiny and the gloomy sides in your relationships gives this depth that's so attractive and kind of haunting. The way you guard yourself and the people around you, It's pretty impressive. It's like you're standing there at the gates, protecting not just yourself but everyone near you. Your determination to fight for what you stand for, your stubborn nature, is both a bit scary and strangely attractive. It's not just the physical space but also the mental and emotional lines you've drawn. Your ability to set these limits and safeguard your turf is both impressive and a bit haunting. It reflects your smarts and that mysterious vibe you've got going on. There's this mix in you of strength, toughness, being on your own, protection, sweetness, and a depth that's captivating and leaves a cool, haunting impression on everyone you meet.

Pile 3

(Some of you may be attracted to pile 1 , make sure to check that out!)

You've got this amazing vibe that's like this mystical spell . There's this magical aura about you. The way you handle your life, keeping your dreams close while staying super down-to-earth, it's like this mesmerizing dance that pulls folks towards you. Your inner strength, usually hidden behind a gentle sweetness, sets you apart; it's like you're a total pro at bouncing back and owning your power. There might've been times when you felt guarded or clung tightly to things, maybe because of past letdowns. But there's this soft glow that comes from inside, like the sun, bringing warmth and hope that pushes past any anger or worries. Your journey has been patient and full of thinking, a bit like taking care of a garden waiting for all your hard work to pay off. That patience and the skill to plan, dream, and build the world you want is where your haunting beauty shines. Your emotional depth and how you handle feelings without fear are like having a pure and innocent heart , it shows off this sensitive side of yours. It's like a shining innocence that hasn't been touched by negativity. There's a natural richness to your life, full of connections and joy that represents this abundance, this real sense of satisfaction and happiness that just beams out of you. Your journey isn't just about you; it's about finishing phases, ending chapters, and growing, this ongoing change and evolution. You've got this big-picture beauty about you that's linked to the grander scheme of things. It's like you've been through some tough stuff, each leaving a mark, but you stand tall with this unbreakable spirit, showing off your strength and echoes your toughness. The marks from those past struggles just add to your depth. Your haunting beauty is in your ability to renew, mend, and keep growing, like this unstoppable force of nature that remains enchanting despite the scars from the storms you've been through. You're this cool mix of strength, grace, and a mysterious charm that sticks in people's minds long after they've met.

870 notes · View notes

mysticmunson · 1 year

Note

I seriously love the aplah omega trope. So what about another omega trying to grab eddies attention and eddie being the man he is and is totally oblivious. Reader is not having it and she shows him that shes the only omega for him.

between vinyls and mixtapes (alpha!eddie munson x omega!reader)

author's note: hi darling! i'm a sucker for a jealousy prompt and thank you so much for your kind words!! this brought me out of my slump :) hope you enjoy! feedback and requests are always welcomed!

warnings: jealousy, flirting, markings (hickeys), smut (18+)

word count: 1.7k

The mall was possibly the last place you wanted to be after your shift at work, the diligent little kids too far away from their parents for comfort, the bright lights of signs directing you to their store, and Eddie’s insistence to buy all the band shirts he spotted. The things you would do for him never ceased to amaze you.

He went into a music store to get some strings for his guitar, along with some other supplies the other Corroded Coffin boys needed, and you already knew by just glancing inside that this wasn’t a quick stop.

With a peck on the cheek, you wandered around, peering into stores that interested you. A dainty lingerie store in particular caught your eye, venturing in to see if there were any fair deals.

It had only been a few months since you both presented, a majority of heats and ruts taking you off guard and frantic, but your bodies began to regulate on the timing. Often than not, you’re usually in mismatched under garments and ditch most clothes for the rest of it.

However, a lilac set drew you in, hands running against the shiny, opal table it laid on. The lace on the bra cups were made to look like flowers, having padding to push up your breasts, with a small bow in the center. The underwear was a thong, identical lace over it and leaving little to the imagination. A set of frilly garters that had a small white bow had you reaching for your wallet, the kind woman folding it into a gift bag with tissue paper.

The thought of yourself in it alone was enough to make you riled up, hoping Eddie would elicit a similar reaction, making you bite back the smile threatening to display against your lips. The walkways were far too long as you sped back to the shop that Eddie was likely dumping money into.

The clear walls made you halt, spotting your boyfriend's hair between the vinyls and mixtapes automatically, but a woman beside him. Her black hair was twisted around her finger as she giggled at a comment he had made, grabbing his bicep before he walked towards the cash register.

Jealousy wasn’t obscure for alpha and omega’s, Eddie often exercised that emotion when any alpha got too close, but was improving as your relationship solidified, except during heats and ruts. This time was different though as you could sense she was an omega, a new ability you were becoming accustomed to, but acted as second nature.

The woman beside him scrunched her manicured hand against his curls as she remarked about the texture. She leaned against the cashier table, eyes wide as she looked up at him, lips slightly parted in a pout. What irritated you more was Eddie was clearly oblivious, being his charming self, and likely giving her the wrong impression.

Emotions flooded you as jealousy was soon layered with insecurity over the other woman, overridden by anger at how nonchalant this seemed, and sadness at how small it made you feel. That this didn’t have to be forever for him, he could mate with another omega, making you feel sick as the twine handle of the bag felt hot in your grip.

Forcing a smile as he approached, talking your ear off about the song ideas he had as you made your way to the truck, pulling the accessories from the plastic bag. As his excitement subsided, he could pick up on the off energy, glancing towards you to see your attention on the fast paced window.

“Baby? You alright?” He asked, squeezing your hand as it rested on his center console, rubbing over your knuckles. You nodded, looking towards him to make sure he saw the confirmation, hoping he wouldn’t impose. Hoping that all of your concerns would reach his brain and he would bring flowers and recite Pride and Prejudice. Hope was a strong word.

Raising his eyebrows, knowing well enough you were acting odd, but was cut off by your own arrival at the trailer. Wayne was on his way out to work, waving as he drove off in his truck, leaving the home quiet as you rushed to the restroom with the bag in hand.

He trudged to his room with a sigh, wondering what the drastic change in mood was triggered by, calculating the best way to mention it. His fingers ran against the box of guitar picks, hoping these wouldn’t get lost within seconds, tossing them near his bag.

The bathroom door creaked open, but he kept his head lowered, not wanting to seem too confronting. His attention was drawn to the silence after, timidly bringing his eyes to the door frame before they bulged out. The new lingerie you were hoping to reserve for a different occasion fit perfectly, accentuating your body in all the right places.

“Oh fuck.” He muttered, his dick thickening as he stared at you, tossing the bag aimlessly to the cluttered ground.

Though he stood to toss you to the bed, you beat him to it, pushing him back and undoing his pants. Eddie could only watch in infatuation, surprised at your sudden assertiveness and scandalous new wardrobe. You pulled off his shirt before straddling him, leaving just his boxers on as you held his arms above your head.

As easily as he could flip you the other way, fucking you into a speechless mess, he was anxiously awaiting your next move. Your mouth went to his throat first, nipping over his pale skin before sliding your tongue over the reddened skin.

He liked when you marked him, he considered it your creation, a physical sentiment of how he made you feel. He would never truly understand the complexities of an omega, but somehow the exchange of pain made him feel better about it. The ache to mark you was frequent, but he rarely indulged, already feeling not worthy enough to touch such a delicate being.

“You’re mine.” You mumbled against the pulse point on his neck, trekking downwards to slip off his final piece of clothing. The alleviation made him hiss, the warm air touching him as the blood rushed downward, laying against his navel.

Your hand was so small compared to his length, but the feeling was indescribable, making him moan instantly. He could feel your wetness against his thigh as you straddled it, his hands going forward in an attempt to hold your hips.

To his surprise, you smacked his embrace away, keeping the pace on him. Bewildered, he looked up at you skeptically, not knowing how to feel about this change in dynamic.

“You let her touch what’s mine.” You remarked coldly, standing to slide your panties to the ground, unclasping your bra, setting it gracefully beneath you. That shit was too expensive to be careless, but you left the garters on.

His head cocked to the side, perplexed at what she could mean, wondering if he had misplaced something of yours. He wondered if you really had noticed that he took your hair tie from your purse last week when you went to the bathroom at dinner. If this was the case, he was stealing a lot more, but the true reason crept in.

“Are you talking about the girl from the mall?” He questioned, watching as you straddled him, already a bit nervous as to how you would handle riding him. During your heat, you produced a lot more arousal, and even then it was hard to take.

Grinding against his throbbing erection, you gasped in unison before looking at him again. He lifted himself to rest on his elbows, lifting one to rub against his brow, hips flicking upwards subconsciously.

“She was an omega and was flirting with you.” You asserted, his face dropping, “She touched you. My alpha, you’re mine.”

“Sweetheart, I had no idea.” He breathed, seeing some cracks in your slightly more controlling demeanor as you bit your lip, a habit he tried to help you break. His thumb pulled it out, resting on your hips before he flipped you.

Expecting a whine, he only got a fiery kiss instead, your tongue infiltrating his mouth as soon as you collided. His growl vibrated your cheeks, his hand lowering to guide himself into you, feeling as you arched into his chest.

“You’re my girl, my beautiful omega. So fucking good for me.” He reminded, gripping your chin and making eye contact. Your legs wrapped around his waist, hands going up to his hair to gently tug.

“My alpha, I love you.” You mewled, his pace increasing quicker than normal, the urgency building within both of you.

Actions provided context to feelings without words, whether too complex or not comprehensible, it somehow came across clearer when shared with the proper person. Feeling his cock within you, each vein and thrust, titillating another unknown aspect about yourself only he could’ve discovered.

The grunts leaving your mouths harmonized as you both felt yourself getting closer, needing to feel his come inside you, a sensation you wanted just for yourself. Greed encompassed you when you laid in bed with him, wanting every part of him connecting with yours. His eyes, his lips, his mind, his soul, and everything in between. You hoped your good deeds would balance out the pure avarice you had about an earthly man.

Your own orgasm snuck up on you with Eddie following right after, panting as he gripped the pillows above your head, his come filling you to the brim.

“Want to be filled with you always.” You sighed with pleasure as he slipped out, his release pooling to the front of your cunt. He smiled, kissing your lips and chin, pulling you to his warm chest.

“If getting you jealous means more sexy clothes, I’m talking to everyone.” He jested, feeling your face scrunch against his peck as you tried to wiggle away, “I’m kidding, baby. You’re all I want, couldn’t imagine my life without you.”

His sincerity made your chest flutter, looking up as he looked down, sloppily kissing your head in a way that you’re sure only you would enjoy, bringing you a strange rush of reassurance.

“But I will be buying more of those, holy shit.”

taglist plus friends and some people i saw enjoyed my other alpha/omega content :) let me know if you'd like to not be tagged: @elizabethmidnight2017 @iheartyouyou @forksloree @fantastic-fantasy-fanfics @sillypurplemurple @prettyboyeddiemunson @andvys @funsonmunson-again @ceriseheaven @indouloureux @lilacletter @edsforehead @akiratoro420

859 notes · View notes

plumfondler · 1 year

Note

Touch-starved, needy Steve. It’s gotten a little better with robin and the kids, but he just melts when Eddie starts getting in his space and all but hanging off him

This.... Got away from me, yes.

🫂

The first time Steve notices Eddie getting in his personal space (after being pinned to the boathouse wall) he is a little taken aback. His first instinct is to back away or push Eddie away from him, because that's what you do, right? Someone is in your space, it's probably a threat, so you should neutralize the threat?

Once Steve's fight response fades, he develops an immediate fondness for Eddie. Eddie was passionate and intense and loud and charming. And a very tactile person.

Steve often noticed Eddie's hands. They would gesture wildly and clench excitedly, but also fidget nervously. Steve had his keyring hanging from his belt loop once and Eddie started playing with the keys as soon as he was within arms reach of Steve. After that, Steve bought a small leather bracelet with some beads on it and Eddie immediately grabbed his wrist and started fiddling with it.

Once Steve got used to Eddie holding his arm across his lap to play with his bracelet, he started testing the waters and draping his legs across Eddie when they were all sitting around. The joy that burst in Steve's chest was unlike anything he'd ever felt, when Eddie rested his hands on Steve's legs, fingers idly stroking.

Eddie soon started pulling Steve's legs over his lap first, which gave Steve the confidence to start trying other things, like leaning.

Though the leaning did turn into accidentally falling asleep on once or twice.

But something changed after the leaning. Eddie was suddenly attached. The second he would walk into a room with Steve in it, he was drawn to him like a magnet. Eddie would drape his arms over Steve's broad shoulders when everyone was standing around, or just drape his entire body over Steve's back like a koala if Steve was sitting on a stool or at a picnic table. And Steve would always put a hand on Eddie's arms to hold him there. To silently say "stay."

Soon Eddie was casually wrapping Steve up in hugs mid-conversation, with no warning.

Then one day Eddie kisses Steve's cheek. Steve made Eddie a mixtape of all the metal songs he liked so maybe Eddie can show him more like those? And Eddie's face lit up and he planted a fat kiss on Steve's face.

Steve can't say he isn't surprised. He can't say he doesn't love it. The warmth. The softness. Eddie's gentle hand that held Steve's chin for a brief moment.

Steve found himself giggling and speechless.

Eddie seems to love this reaction so he likes to try it again from time to time.

And then one time they try it at the same time.

Steve and Robin are bickering about something and Eddie is dangling over Steve's shoulder. Eddie silently gestures to Steve's empty beer with his own, shaking it, and Steve nods, still listening to Robin.

Eddie leans in to kiss Steve's cheek but Steve turns.

Their lips meet and they both sigh upon impact.

They don't pull away.

Robin stops talking.

Eddie and Steve open their eyes, lips still attached.

"Oh boy, okay, so this is finally happening, okay. And it happened in front of me okay, that's fine okay. I can deal with this, it's fine it's fine it's fine."

Robin starts babbling and Eddie and Steve slowly smile foreheads together, reaching out to hold each other's faces, bursting into laughter.

"Hey Robs, we're gonna go talk about this in the kitchen, okay?" Steve said, weaving his fingers with Eddie's, reaching out to squeeze Robin's hand.

Robin nodded and Steve lifted Eddie's fingers to his face, nuzzling them.

"Yes, we're going to go make out about this in the kitchen, can we bring you anything in an hour?" Eddie asked, standing and tugging Steve up to his feet.

Steve giggled and followed Eddie to the kitchen.

They rounded the corner and Steve pinned Eddie against the wall, kissing him tenderly.

"Whoa, wait, what happened to talking about this," Eddie grinned, nudging Steve's nose with his own.

"Hi,I like you. Do you like me?"

"Yes, a lot."

"Mmk."

And the kissing resumed.

▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️

Send me your headcanons!

#Steddie #steddie headcanon #ask plumfondler

2K notes · View notes

manicpixiefelix · 3 months

Note

Whatever you do, don't envision Reader and Felix driving a vintage convertible through the Tuscan countryside. Top down, wind in their hair, the scent of lemon groves, music playing from the radio.

Perhaps they're on their way to a private party or they're ditching one 🤭

Felix and Reader are holding hands or he's got a hand on their thigh, loving the way they look so carefree.

(stumbling out of my inbox covered in fluff: i don't know where this came from)

There's no prying eyes in moments like these, no-one to perform for, no performers masquerading as his friends or friends of the family trying to steal his attention. Its all on you, and you've never performed for Felix the way the rest of the world has.

He loves you for it.

He loves you for many reasons, of course, but this is one of his favourites.

The sun has just set, the sky painted a burning orange before it fades to sweet lilac and then night, stars beginning to brighten in the sky, and you haven't stopped smiling since he'd pulled out of the parking lot of that god awful party. His darling parents were being progressive with none too subtle purpose, and while both you and he loved their ongoing support, sometimes it was a bit much. More than a bit much. It was suffocating.

But he has no phone service out here, only you beside him with the map he keeps under the seat, pointing out a quaint town an hour away with some kind of hotel situation, and his hand on your thigh. The radio is loud and bright, though you still complain about the CD player in his car -

"I spent good money on a tape deck that works, bought actual, brand new tapes -"

"Where the hell did you get those?" He laughed, but was endeared by your efforts, even as you talked over him, pointedly ignoring him.

"- made you a whole mixtape, and you went and replaced the take deck in your card with a bloody CD player!" You threw your hands in the air in mock dismay.

"I had the CD player put in when dad gave me the car," Felix half smiles, glancing at you for just a moment out of the corner of his eye, "years ago," he reminds you. Seeing the way you're trying so hard to keep up your show off being miffed, despite the sheepish smile curling at the edge of your lips, he gives your thigh a squeeze and looks back at the road.

Slowly, you uncross your arms, sitting back in your seat with a faint, playful pout. When you rest your hand on his, it's warm.

"Made a whole proper cover for it and everything, to put in that plastic cover-thingy they all come in."

"I know," Felix agrees, "I like how you styled the track list on the back," he can't help but smile, picturing it in his mind, "and it's a good set of songs."

He loves the goofy smile he knows you're wearing without even having to turn and look at you. Something about how genuinely you've always reacted to his praise has always warmed his heart; you'd always had a knack for telling his performative, placating praise from his sincerity. He's known you too long and too well by now to offer anything but sincerity when you both know it's rightfully deserved.

"I'll buy you a car with a tape deck just so we can listen to my road trip mix," you say it so casually that he's not quite sure if you're joking. But then you pet his hand, laughter ringing out from you, into the perfect Summer night, "kidding, Fi; I made it for you, listen to it wherever or whenever you want," he catches your easygoing shrug out of the corner of his eye, "or never. No skin off my nose." For a few moments, you distract yourself, tapping out inconsistent beats along his fingers, the back of his hand -

"Unless you want a car with a tape deck," this time he's sure it's not a joke. Its as casual as if you'd offered to simply buy him a beer, no real larger thoughts behind the offer. No part of you is performing the way anyone else would; not trying to bribe, or buy, or placate, or charm, or flaunt your wealth;

"You've just now reminded me why my parents are so adamantly pro-Gay Marriage," Felix couldn't help his laughter, and you sat back, watching the road ahead with a wry smile.

"Your parents are so adamantly pro-Gay Marriage because they desperately want me to pick if I'm to be legally recognised as one or the other, so they can marry me off right now to either you or your sister, but are too deep in their support of me to feel comfortable asking that," you turn to look at him with something forlorn in your eyes despite the smile on your lips, and Felix, despite how much he loved his parents, also knew you were absolutely right.

"No matter where in the world I am," Felix grins, as the lights of the town ahead begin to glow in the distance, "the minute -the absolute moment- mum finds out the two of us can legally get married, I bet you I get a call telling me to come home so she and dad can give me the family ring," and beside him, you're cackling with laughter just picturing it, "at three in the morning, I'll be in Australia or some place, high as fuck in the bush or something, and I'll have to deal with mum acting like she hasn't been plotting this arranged marriage shit for years!"

And the two of you laugh, because you're barely twenty, and the idea of a future beyond your youthful hedonism is overwhelming if you don't laugh about it. Politics, and real world issues, and the future neither of you want to think about, are all absurd, and laughable, and easy to push to the back of your minds. Like the cassette mixtape Felix keeps in his glove box even without a tape deck, because he knows he'll never lose it there.

You take Felix's hand from your thigh as you lace your fingers with his.

And you laugh.

And neither of you knows if it's because the idea of getting married feels preposterous, or maybe a little inevitable.

#felix catton x reader #felix catton x y/n #saltburn x reader #saltburn imagine #felix catton imagine #felix catton x you #head heart hand fic #manic writer #it shouts back

168 notes · View notes

florenceafternoon · 5 months

Text

━。゜✿ jily fic recommendations ✿ ゜。━

This post is just some of my current favourites because I don’t think I have the energy to make a master list right now. Personally, I like to read aus so if you're looking for canon stuff this isn't the post for you.

For reference, anything in italics is taken from the summaries on ao3.

in pursuit of the study of magic by @thequibblah

An immortal magician au or, "we had a really bad breakup three hundred years ago, but neither of us realised the other is immortal until we met today"

I recommend you listen to About You while reading this

Growing (in love) by casablancas21 (on ao3)

Uni au where "James Potter has a lot going on for him. His uni years have been the best he's ever had and his friendliness, popularity and charm go a long way to place him as the go-to bloke if one's looking for a good time. Nevertheless, his final year of school finds him struggling to keep up with the social energy that once enthralled him. He's having a hard time figuring out how to set his own boundaries and what to do about his future. He's also having a really hard time figuring out Lily Evans."

I must admit that Lily's comebacks are so good I've used some during class debates in sociology this year. Truly, the dialogue and dynamics between characters in this fic are so good. Pretty sure this is the one with the kebab

Golden Waltz by evanspotter (on ao3)

Lily Evans wants to be the best ice dancer in the world, which means she needs to find a dance partner ASAP. After two failed partnerships, her coach gives her one last option: James Potter.

This fic is the reason I neglected revising for midterms. It also caused me to go into a deep dive into watching tapes of Olympic ice dance programs specifically Virtue and Moir.

on the way home by keep_driving (on ao3)

Lily was living abroad and pinning from afar. After an abundance of "phone calls, mixtapes, and long waits," Lily is finally coming home. I believe this fic is inspired by the song You Are In Love.

When I say jily is friends first, and lovers second this is what I mean

Dancing With Our Hands Tied by @athenasparrow

But despite his best efforts, he couldn’t take his eyes off her figure as she moved effortlessly in rhythm with whatever song she had playing. He learned she was wearing more than a t-shirt when she slid across the kitchen on her socks, throwing her head back to sing words James wished he could hear.

OR: In a world where social distancing reigns supreme, two strangers find themselves confined to their apartments with love only a window away.

The way I binged this fic at school between classes. love love love

The Season by @missgryffin

This is a regency (Brighton) au where "James Potter, Duke of Peverell, has returned to London just in time for the season, where Miss Lily Evans is about to make her debut. Only, he’s not looking for a wife, and she’s not particularly interested in a husband."

I love the dialogue between Lily & James as well as Sirius & Lily's relationship (for those who know Brigerton, it reminds me of Ben and El's relationship).

A Misstep Of Fate by hogwartslivy (on ao3)

A muggle historical au where "he waited for her on the edge of ballrooms and in the shadows of parties. He waited to dance with her, to spin her in his arms, to be the one she laughed and smiled with. He thought he was doing the right thing, allowing time to pass them until they were ready, so he had waited. But it seems, he made a misstep. He's waited too long now she's slipping through his fingers."

My boy is stupid and in love but it's okay because she is too. Their idiots, but they’re my idiots

Let Me Love You by @thejilyship

A Princess Diaries au in which "with only a month until she's set to take the throne of Gryffindor, Lily is informed that she'll have to get married or choose to give up her throne. She never thought she'd have to even entertain the idea of an arranged marriage. Enter, James Potter."

chaos ensues and Emma deserves long service leave (the place would fall apart)

foreigner's god by clarewithnoi (on ao3)

answer to a Tumblr prompt: "we were lovers in a past life" but the current incarnations are enemies-to-lovers, and they don't remember anything from their past selves.

The back and forth between them is so good. low-key I teared up a bit but it has a HEA

An October of Unconventional Courtships by @ghostofbambifanfiction

Two phones. Thirty-one days. Eighteen tuxedos. A Jilytober texting fic.

A classic that everyone should read

Shelf Awareness also by @/ghostofbambifanfiction

Modern bookstore au where "It's too far out of her way and she's wasting so much money, but Lily can't help but return to the bookstore every weekend, where her passion for good literature has, perhaps, been unexpectedly reignited by the messy-haired, pun-making, rather handsome bloke who works there."

One of the first ever jily fics that I read and I fell in love with their dynamic straight away

Careless Texter also by @/ghostofbambifanfiction

Answer to the prompt, “I left my phone number on the bathroom stall wall and you text me about your day and your frustrations for a month & it’s really nice and cute but I still don’t know who you are,” with some twists and differences.

Trackside by @hogwartslivy

James Potter is Formula One’s most impressive young talent, making up one half of the championship winning team at Gryffindor Racing. He’s got a reputation for playing dirty on, and seemingly off, the track but when an article quoting a particularly vulgar comment made by him at last years final Grand Prix is released, it seems he may have pushed it too far. Potter faces two options; fix his public image or give up his seat.

When my two obsessions meet

it's (always) you by @kay-elle-cee

A multiverse of 31 meet-cutes for Jilytober 2023.

Honorable mentions to chapter 3 for high!Lily and chapter 7 for fulling my love for jily regency aus

Key Limes by cgner (on ao3)

Fame au "in which Academy Award winner Lily Evans discovers the periphery of internet fandom and the mysteries of Prince James’s gold star system."

Because James is actually just a giant build a bear and lily is an icon as always.

See You At the Next Stop by kayrma (on ao3)

Lily Evans meets a posh-looking bloke with messy hair on the way back to London, and for once in her life she actually enjoys a train ride. Maybe having a spontaneous seat partner isn't that bad after all.

Shoutout to the notes on this fic because whoever wrote it is a mood

Nom De Plume by @annabtg

James Potter, renowned potioneer, has a secret side career as an erotica writer under the pen name of Scarlett Goldwing. When his latest book starts to take off, and Scarlett is asked to promote it at a public event, he has no other option but to recruit his colleague Lily Evans to pretend to be Scarlett. The only problem is, Lily Evans hates his guts… or does she?

(Rated E for later chapters)

Like did you read that summery because personally I was waiting for the author to complete the story so I could binge it

victorem (requires an ao3 account ) by gryffindormischief (on ao3)

(Olympic) Ice dancing au. "When God closes a door, sometimes you have to jump out a window."

Lily and James (and Sirius) aka the dynamic duo

Phone Service by @confuded-gryffindor

Moddern muggel au "in which James and Lily meet twice, both through their phones."

some with arrows, some with traps by @isahorcrux

Fame au. "Then: James Potter was a beloved child star and the lead of a popular YA franchise. Lily Evans was just getting her big break as his romantic lead in the third installment. While their chemistry got rave reviews, if the rumors are to be believed the two actors can barely stand to be in the same room together.

Now: Lily’s paid her dues and ten years later she’s the most in-demand actress in Hollywood. And James...after back-to-back flops at the box office, he’s just looking for a break and a chance to prove he is the amazing actor everyone thought he was going to be."

Much Ado About Nothing, but make it Jily

The group chat is the level of chaos me and my friends extrude every free line we spend together

Charred Pineaple Margarita's and a Bagel by @chiechie97

The guy at the coffee shop was hot. Hot and he knew her order. But that didn’t mean ANYTHING. Especially when he seemed to know everyone’s order. And besides, Lily is far too busy to be thinking about the hot guy that always has her breakfast waiting for her. Right?

Lily and Remus are me

and i know you too well to say you're perfect by @ofmermaidsandmarauders

“Yeah, you were a pretty big moron.” “Hey, I said idiot!”

Lily's not really sure when James Potter, soccer extraordinaire, took over her life with Harry.

What the summery said

The next few fics are all by @wearingaberetinparis or ritaskeetered (on ao3) who is the reason I joined the jily fandom. Single handedly enabled my obsession and I've never been more thankfull.

The Very Regency (Un)Ladylike Guide To Fortune-Hunting

Regency au. "Without thinking highly either of men or matrimony, marriage had always been her object; it was the only honourable provision for well-educated young women of small fortune, and however uncertain of giving happiness, must be their pleasantest preservative from want." (Jane Austen)

Lily Evans finds herself wanting, or: so her sister seems to believe. While out on the hunt for a fortune - again: that would be Mrs Dursley mostly - the affection of a number of suitors is most welcome. Especially when a young Viscount's heart is set aflame.

Screaming, crying, punch me in the face (Lily's version)

Jump (For My Love)

Royalty au "When you are the Prince of England, the last thing one might expect is to be jumped from behind by the most beautiful woman one has ever seen, who - in turn - seems to have no clue at all and mistakes one for someone else. Surely, Prince James has the right to be disproportionately upset about this. The question is; does he need to?"

Baby, It's Cold Outside

Olympic au. James, being half Greek, had always dreamed of one day going to the Olympics. Now, at his second Winter Olympics – having won a surprising bronze medal at his first one – James has been dubbed Team GB’s hero before the games have even started.

Lily, being the daughter of a waste collector, had always dreamed of one day making her parents proud by exceeding their expectations. Now, she finds herself on a plane to China together with her boss, Minerva McGonagall, and a crowd of winter athletes representing Team GB at the Winter Olympics of 2022.

The paths of James Potter – overenthusiastic snowboarding hero – and Lily Evans – passionate overachiever – cross at the 2022 Winter Olympics when James Potter is asked to be Team GB’s flagbearer at the Opening Ceremony (and quite a few times after that as well).

The repetition of "James, being half Greek..." worked so well for the flow. I don't know how to describe it

A Game Of Thrones

Modern royalty au. Lily Evans had never imagined she would meet Prince James, but when she does at St Andrews' annual Christmas Pub Crawl, her whole world is turned upside down. For who thought that a girl like her - with a sister that reads "Hello" magazine like it's the Bible - would end up with a prince like him?

Euphemia Potter you will always be famous

flowers

A musician au that hilights sexisim in the music industry. "Singer-songwriter Lily Evans has played gig after gig, has been the opening act to many a headliner, but her big break seems a million miles away. When one night – after playing in her friend Marlene McKinnon’s bar – she receives messily scrawled lyrics on a napkin by a certain Monty Python, her life and career are turned upside down, leading her all the way to the Grammy's."

Lily my love, you deserve everything you've worked for

If You Knew Who Was Talking

hopelessly_devoted and genuinely-conflicted form each other’s support system online, cheering one another on as they battle their way through an unrequited (and most definitely unwanted) crush on the person their parents are trying to set them up with.

In the real world, James Potter and Lily Evans find themselves hopelessly devoted and genuinely conflicted when battling their persistent infatuation with the last person they would have ever liked to fall for, stubbornly fighting their family’s and friends’ convictions that they were born to be together.

If only they knew who was talking.

FOOLS the both of them.

glitter in the sky, i’m spinning out waiting for ya

For her thirtieth birthday, Marlene McKinnon and Mary McDonald gift Lily Evans the thrill of a lifetime: a tandem skydive. What no one expected? For Lily to end up in the hospital as a result with her ankle covered in soul marks.

everybody is a sexy baby, and i'm a monster on a hill

Ficwriter au. "James Potter and Lily Evans are fandom famous. Both are prolific and popular writers within the Marauders fandom, but they have completely ignored the other's existence for two years after a Tumblr misunderstanding. Now, they are paired up for the Valentine's Marauders Challenge and - forced to interact - they find out that they may be more compatible than they ever could have imagined."

Is this not the dream?

fastening myself to you with a stitch

Fame au. "Anyone who has never heard the names Lily Evans and James Potter before must be a boomer. The two actors have dominated the box office with their films in the past nine years, more often than not starring opposite one another. Whether tasked to portray mutual pining, passionate hatred or fiery love, Potter and Evans make the screen positively buzz with the taste of opportunity."

it's all happening without me

Normal People (Sally Roony) au. "At school, James and Lily pretend not to know each other. James is wealthy, popular and the star of his school’s football team, while Lily wears second-hand school uniforms, is the school pariah and resented for her smarts. At James’ house, however – meeting there due to Lily’s mother’s housekeeping job – they form an intense connection they desperately try to conceal to the outside world.

A year later, James and Lily both attend Hogwarts University where James has found his feet and made friends he had longed for his entire life, while Lily remains uncertain and haunted by her problematic past.

Throughout their years at university, James and Lily circle each other, trying to resist the magnetic pull between them, whilst coming to the realisation that the both of them may be more religious than they ever thought they were."

Mother knows best. Mary, never question your writing skills because this fic proved that you are a phenomenal writer. The emotions you evoked coverered the entire range of human emotions

It's Coming Down, It's Coming Down Series -

Weird, But Fuckin' Beautiful

When Lily Evans is invited to spend Christmas with the Potters, she finds that she can simply not refuse. It’s an offer she cannot resist for several reasons, the most important one being that she would much rather spend the holidays with Fleamont and Euphemia than she would with Vernon and Petunia.

So what if she had conveniently forgotten (or has she?) about the fact that the Potters have a son - a Formula 1 driver at that - who she can’t seem to get off her mind? (Mightily annoying that, seeing as he has made clear exactly how he feels about her and it’s not exactly giving her any hope.) It’s not as if she can’t control herself.

Or so she very dearly hopes…

Tonight Feels Impossible

But after a night spent together in a hotel's honeymoon suite, she doubts she ever will and fears it might be her downfall.

To All The Kudos I've Left Before

Ficwriter au set in university. "Fanfiction is the guiltiest of pleasures that Lily - twenty years old and studying at Hogwarts University - freely and happily indulges in. She reads fanfiction whenever she has a moment to herself and goes crazy whenever her favourite author - Artemis - updates or uploads another one of his works to Archive Of Our Own. Leaving them comments and the ensuing banter between them back and forth - however fleeting - makes her heart race and preoccupies a fair amount of her thoughts, which - in turn - angers her best friend.

James Potter has never had to suffer from an inferiority complex. His parents and friends are supportive of his every endeavour and this includes his habit to write fanfiction and put his written work out there in the void for his readers to enjoy. His readers are highly supportive too - Lilium being his absolute favourite - that is, until he starts to receive the vilest of comments from a number of guest accounts and starts to question his entire online existence.

What Artemis and Lilium don’t know? That they might know each other a little better than either of them ever bargained for."

The title says it all ❤ ❤❤

#jily fic rec #jily #lily evans #james potter #jple

188 notes · View notes