#sadie's 1k one shots

[atlabeth]

hi, i hope i’m putting in this request correctly (sorry if i’m not). but could you do a benedict bridgerton one-shot/blurb with the prompt: “(She’s/he’s/they’re) just a friend.” “We used to be friends to be ‘just friends’ too.”

or really any friends to lovers kinda thing with him, i’m just a sucker for it. thank you!

not just - benedict bridgerton

summary: benedict realizes he does not just want to be friends with you. not anymore.

a/n: hi!! thank you so much for this request, im sorry it took approximately 100 years to come out but yeah. i tried to make this different from my other friends to lovers fic w him, and this is my first time writing daphne so hopefully she's accurate lol. i hope you enjoy, once again sorry for the wait!!! (also i changed the prompt a bit to fit more but it's still the same meaning)

wc: 2.3k

warning(s): an overuse of commas and em dashes, signature bridgerton boy obliviousness. also i wrote this in one go when the inspiration finally struck so i apologize if it's kinda messy

Benedict had let out, likely, his hundredth sigh of the night. It was certainly bothersome to those on the outskirts alongside him, but he could not have cared less. 

Not when you were on the dance floor, dancing with a man that was not him.

Benedict did not quite know why the sight of you twirling with another annoyed him so. It must have been the man you were with. Lord Arthur Annesley was, frankly, a good match for any lady, especially as the well-regarded son of a viscount—just not you. 

He knew that the two of you would not be a good match—he was certain of it. Not when he had overheard the man talking of how he viewed women as nothing more than accessories, to birth children and then be shown off on a man’s arm. Benedict still remembered that night, Colin having to stop him in the middle of Mondrich’s gentleman’s club from clobbering the brute.

The worst part was that, with the wealth he partook in due to his ancestry and the good breeding afforded to him by his family name, Benedict could do nothing about Annesley if he decided to court you. Yes, your family had money of its own, but not nearly enough to allow you refusal should he propose. If he made the choice, you would be forced to accept, no matter your feelings or thoughts of him. His bigger fear was that you actually felt affection for the man.

Well, he thought helpfully, he could always challenge him to a duel. And though it seemed like an excellent idea to him, Benedict doubted his siblings nor his mother would allow him to do anything of the sort. 

And thus he was doomed to stand on the sidelines of the ballroom forever, watching you dance with another, eventually marry another, and leave him fully behind. 

So his statement could not exactly be counted as true. He did know why the sight of it annoyed him.

It was because he was in love with you, and you were not in love with him. It was as simple as that, and yet it could not have been a more devastating truth.

Benedict supposed that was what he got for never being brave enough to tell you of his feelings. But that did not mean he had to like the outcome. 

“What has got you in such a twist, dearest brother?”

Benedict glanced over as Daphne took the open spot next to him, a glass of champagne held tenderly between her gloved fingers. She was the image of perfection, as usual—ever since his sister had become a duchess, she seemed to always emanate light. He was proud of her, but he could not help but feel a bit inferior in comparison. His sister was years younger than him, and yet she was while she was the walking body of grace with a duke for a husband, he could not even tell the object of his affections how he felt of her. 

Benedict supposed it was no surprise she had managed to seek him and his poor mood out. She’d always been good at knowing when he was upset, even when they were children. 

“No reason,” he muttered, plucking a glass of his own from a passing servant and tossing it back in one motion. “I am simply not enjoying the party.” 

“Ah,” she said, fully disbelieving, if simply by the fact that he could not possibly dislike a party organized by her, “is that why you are attempting to assassinate Lord Arthur with your gaze alone?” 

“I—” Benedict huffed and looked elsewhere. “I am not.” 

“You were,” she said. Daphne looked to where his attention was prior, and it only took a moment for her to realize. 

“Ah.” Daphne pursed her lips as she turned back to her brother. “It is Miss Stanton.” 

“It is not,” Benedict quickly covered up, realizing only a moment too late that he should not have been so hasty to reply if it was the truth. 

“Do you have affection for her?” Daphne asked, and though coming from another it might have been mocking, his sister was anything but. 

“No,” Benedict said, and he shook his head. “No—I do not. The only affection I have for her is of the friendship sort.” 

He did not quite know why he was so adamant in denying his feelings for you. Perhaps because he thought it would make it easier—if he did not accept the truth, then he would not have to accept he was losing the woman of his dreams when you took the surname of another and left him behind. He would not have to accept that it was a very likely story that you would be out of his life far sooner than he would ever wish. 

Yes, he thought, that was it. Though it brought an unexpected sadness alongside the revelation. 

“That certainly is not the way that a man looks at a woman he feels nothing but friendship for,” Daphne murmured. “I recognize it very clearly.” 

“Then maybe you have had a bit too much to drink,” Benedict said, “as you could not be more wrong.” 

She did not take offense at his words, instead allowing the briefest glimpse of amusement to pass. “You are the one attempting to drown his sorrows in nothing but champagne. I regret to inform you, brother, that it will not likely work.” 

He let out a long sigh as he crossed his arms across his midsection. “What is it that you recognize then, Daph?” 

“I recognize,” Daphne said, “the very same way that I looked at Simon. When I was first beginning to realize my feelings, with no hope of them being reciprocated and yet all of the love in the world to give to him.” 

Benedict shook his head with a huff. “That is nonsense. We are nothing more than friends.” 

Daphne’s lips quirked up at the edges. “Simon used to be nothing but a friend as well. And now I have been madly in love with him for two years.” 

Sometimes Benedict wished his sister was not as attentive and caring as she was. There were plenty of other sisters in the ton, sisters that would not think twice about the sour moods of their brothers. If that were the case, he would be able to revel in his misery for the rest of his life instead of being forced to confront it instead. 

“...Fine,” he conceded. “I do have feelings for her. I… I love her. And I have for quite some time. I love that she is my friend, and I could not think of a life without her, though I cannot help but want so much more. But I fear if I speak up I could lose her.” 

“Benedict,” Daphne said softly, “if you do not say anything, you will lose her anyway. You will never know what could have been, simply because of a fear that may not even be reality. Do you truly think you could take that chance?” 

Benedict did not respond. It was a heavy question—one he did not quite know how to answer. 

He did not want to lose you—of course not. It was unimaginable, his world without you in it. But just as well, by confessing his feelings, he could lose you all the same. He could push you farther into that lecherous man’s arms, and he would not be able to do a thing. 

But deep down, Benedict knew the truth. 

“No,” he said. “I could not take the chance.” 

Daphne smiled, fully this time, and she patted her brother on the back. “Then I believe you know what you must do.” 

As if by perfect timing, the orchestra ended their current piece, and your dance with Annesley was complete. You bowed to him and him to you, and he grimaced as he touched your shoulder and said a few words. You said a few back to him, then exited with a polite nod and a smile. Before Benedict could question his next actions, he had handed his empty glass to his sister and started towards you. 

“Miss Stanton,” Benedict started, and then he shook his head, “Y/N. I wish to speak with you, if that is alright. It is… it is an urgent matter.” 

Your eyes alit with concern as you took his offered hand. “Benedict, whatever is the problem?” 

“There is no problem,” he said, and he did not think he could be stumbling through this harder if he tried. “I just wish to speak with you, if you have the time.” 

You smiled, and Benedict thought it was the most stunning thing he’d ever seen. “Why, of course. I always have time for Benedict Bridgerton.” 

He smiled back. “And I am eternally thankful for it.” 

Benedict guided you out of the ballroom, checking behind him every so often to ensure they weren’t being followed—he could only imagine the sort of scandal this would cause, and he did not quite feel like giving his mother a heart attack tonight—and eventually, the two of you were in a quiet but well lit hallway of the Basset’s enormous summer home. 

“Now I am truly worried something is the matter,” you said wryly. “What, with all this secrecy.” 

Benedict chuckled, but he could not stop his hands from fidgeting. In another split second decision he took your hands in his own, the warmth a welcome comfort. You did not even flinch, instead looking at him with the softest expression imaginable. 

Great God, how he loved you. 

“Nothing is the matter,” Benedict said, his voice a bit shaky, and he gave himself approximately two seconds to prepare for what he was about to do. “I’d rather say things have the opportunity to go quite well.” 

“And why is that?” you asked with a coy smile. 

“Because I have a confession to make,” he said. “I… I could not stand watching you dance out there tonight, to tell you the truth. And— and it is not because of you—you were as perfect as you always were—but because of your partner. Arthur Annesley is nothing more than his title, and he is not worth any more of your time. And— and I tell you this, because—” 

Benedict took a deep breath, and it was as if a dam had been broken, the way the words came tumbling out. 

“I do not just want to be friends,” Benedict rushed out, “and I have wanted much more for so long. I love you, Y/N Stanton, and I have loved you since the moment you walked out the doors for your debut. I have loved you since you pushed me in the mud and ruined my clothing just to get me out of French lessons. I have loved you since you sat with me for hours in silence whenever I needed you after my father’s death. Y/N, I have loved you for as long as I have known what love is. To me, you are what love is. And I love you—foolishly, wholeheartedly, completely in love.”

“Truly?” you asked quietly, your eyes slightly wide from such a sudden confession. “That is… truly how you have felt about me, all this time?” 

“For quite some time,” he admitted, and the light of concern in his eye was telling of his nerves. “You consume my every thought, Y/N, my every waking moment—you are all I dream of, day in and day out. And I cannot bear the thought of you being near that wretched Annesley any longer. I beg of you—please, do not marry him.” 

“I was never going to marry him,” you said breathlessly, and you could not help but laugh, however inappropriate it might have been. “Benedict, every moment I spent with him was to humor my mother and his father over their own delusions of a courting. I harbor nothing but ambivalence towards that man. You,” you reached your hand up and cupped his cheek with it, and you could not help but smile as he unconsciously leaned into your touch, “are the one that I love. Foolishly, wholeheartedly, completely in love.” 

It was Benedict’s turn for his eyes to widen, to repeat your own words. “Truly?” 

“It is the most truth I have ever spoken,” you whispered. 

Benedict immediately pulled you into a kiss, the feeling of his lips against yours like pure fire dancing through you. It was maddeningly addictive, passionate, the complete opposite of gentlemanly, but everything you had ever needed. Everything you had been longing for, for a longer time than you’d known. 

“I love you,” he said, breathless as he pulled away for just a moment, just enough time to say the words before he was back on you with an unrivaled fierceness. “I love you so much.” 

Your entire body was heated to the touch when you finally pulled away, your lips sore and swollen and Benedict’s hair a complete mess thanks to your combined efforts. You could not help but laugh at the sight—it was beautiful. He was beautiful, and he was the man you loved.

The man who loved you. 

“I love you too,” you murmured, and you suddenly could not believe you had managed to go so long without saying the words you now knew were etched into your soul. 

Friends, you thought with an inward laugh. The notion seemed so silly now. 

Benedict Bridgerton was your best friend, but he was also the man you loved the most. You could hardly believe you nearly passed it up from some half-hearted fear of rejection. 

You had never been so glad to not be friends. 

No—you weren’t not friends. 

You simply were not just friends. 

And that was not just good. It was perfect. 

-

perm tags: @dv0412 @siriuslyslyslytherin @maruchan77 @simonsbluee @kwyloz @masteroperator

bridgerton tags: @theonewithallthemilkshakes @rach2602 @milkiane @korol-lantsov 

#sadie’s 1k one shots #even though i’ve hit 1.5k now. oops #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict x reader #bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton fic #benedict bridgerton fluff #bridgerton fic #bridgerton fluff #sadie writes

[novantinuum]

Novantinuum’s SU fic masterpost

I saw a mutual do this, (and please go check out mimik-u’s fic masterpost, she makes lovely stuff), and thought it was a brilliant idea for ease of access on tumblr. So, without further ado:

Crack the Paragon series:

My largest fic project. Currently well over 60,000 words. ‘Tis a canon-divergent AU branching off from the episode Bismuth, wherein old secrets are accidentally revealed two seasons early, and Steven’s world is heavily shaken by these revelations. The second and third stories are one-shots set in between specific chapters of the main fic.

Crack the Paragon (AO3, 13/40 chapters, 59K words)

In another world, he doesn't have his mother's sword or shield to hide behind when Bismuth lands her strike. The bubble pops.

Steven falls apart.

Everything is Different Now (AO3, one-shot, 1K words)

After her unfortunate exile, Bismuth returns to her forge to work, and to reflect on her mistakes.

Seeing Pink (AO3, one-shot, 2.4K words)

Following a video call with Connie, Steven reacts to the discovery that... his eyes aren’t always human anymore.

Multi-chapter:

All but the first two of these stories are actually included amidst my ongoing Brandishing the Star series, but I’m placing them here since they’re all more than one chapter.

Hollowed Moon (AO3, 14 chapters, 8K)

[DISCONTINUED]

Stevonnie doesn't crash the Star Skipper onto that jungle moon. Instead, they crash on a craggy fragment of rock suspended thousands of miles away from its associated colony, long forgotten.

On that lonely hunk of rock is a domed garden.

And standing in that garden, just as lifeless seeming as the rest of it, is a pink Gem.

Misalignment (AO3, 17/? chapters, 11.8K~ words)

His family’s not present the third time he runs away... They never see the creature he becomes.

Early corruption AU.

(AN: Contains a brief sequence of body horror in the first chapter.)

Contact (AO3, 4 chapters, 16K words)

The first (and with any luck, only) time it happens, he’s almost 16.

(AN: Major character injury to Steven + eventual healing.)

Second Skin (AO3, 10/12 chapters, 6.4K words)

Steven can’t help but dread the undefined cocktail of emotions that trigger this newest power...

12 shorts, each delving into Steven’s developing opinions and feelings about his “pink mode” in SUF.

(AN: Deals with delicate topics such as self-hatred and intrusive thoughts.)

Oceans (AO3, 6 chapters, 5.3K words)

A series of shorts detailing what might've happened in the moments after I Am My Monster, told from six different points of view.

Intake (AO3, 2 chapters, 6.4K words)

Steven fills out an important form.

(AN: Some Steven and Greg bonding in the second chapter of this one. Deals with topics such as therapy, depression, and mental illness in general.)

Brandishing the Star one-shots:

All of the stories in this series are standalone, and were written to be canon compliant when I originally made them. Two of them aren’t anymore after SUF, but oh well! XP

(See more under cut.)

Tipping Point (AO3, 1.1K words)

Garnet helps remind Rose of what she’s fighting for.

New Star (AO3, 1.3K words)

Organic life is a fragile, fickle thing. This much is true. What's also true is how the death and resurrection of a humble lion was enough to make Rose Quartz re-conceptualize everything.

On the Origin of Hybrids (AO3, 1.6K words)

The question— incomplete, and yet bursting with long-held curiosity— emerges from thin air while Greg’s about to tuck Steven into bed in the back of the van one night.

In retrospect, no parenting book could’ve ever prepared him for this one.

His Shield (AO3, 300~ words)

Greg attempts to comfort his son during a thunderstorm.

Donut Debrief (AO3, 1.5K words)

Two days after their disastrous island adventure, Sadie and Steven talk about regrets, making amends, and discover something they have in common with each other.

Autumn Bliss (AO3, ~550 words)

Is there any better way to spend a crisp autumn day than playing around in piles of leaves?

Written for Connvember, day 1.

Alienation (AO3, 1.1K words)

“But... I’m human,” he whispers to himself, the words tasting more like a desperate plea for belief on his tongue. “Or at least, part human. Right?”

An awkward interaction with his dad and Connie leads Steven to realize that he's now too Gem to all the humans in his life.

Ramen Soup For the Soul (AO3, 250~ words)

Steven and Connie noisily slurp some soup at the dinner table.

Creative Outlet (AO3, 800~ words)

“Log date, 7 14 9.

“Today, the hybrid creature Steven attempted to further secure my loyalty by introducing me to a concept he calls... ‘music.’”

Taste of Ordinary (AO3, 5.4K words)

When a much needed moonlight conversation with his best friend turns into an attempted (and failed) "spring break" from all his responsibilities as a half-Gem, Steven finally comes to terms with the full truth of his heritage and all six thousand years of its consequences.

Takes place between The Question and Made of Honor.

(AN: Originally planned to be 3 chapters, but discontinued. IMO the first chapter still stands decently well as its own thing, though.)

Ballroom Etiquette (AO3, 2.8K words)

In which Steven is publicly introduced to the Gems of Homeworld as Pink Diamond, and he experiences the first true stage fright of his life.

Finally Free (AO3, 1.6K words)

Lapis genuinely doesn’t know how many hours (Days? Months? Years?) have passed when light finally graces her eyes once again.

Vulnerable (AO3, 700~ words)

Three words.

Three little words, and the intergalactic conflict he‘d been training his whole childhood to defend against was over.

But the hurt... he's not sure the hurt will ever go away.

Cycles (AO3, 1.2K words)

Amidst their danger-fraught mission to retrieve Pyrope and Demantoid's prisms, Pearl and Steven take a much needed break.

Fifteen (AO3, 1.6K words)

Every year, on the fifteenth day of the eighth month, Pearl runs away.

Freedom to Dance (AO3, 350~ words)

Stevonnie celebrates the first anniversary of Era 3 with their friends and reflects on how Homeworld has already changed.

Stardust (AO3, 600~ words)

White Diamond is testing out new terms of endearment. But no matter White’s intention with this little nickname, Steven doesn’t want it.

Bi the Way... (AO3, 2.8K words)

Connie has a question, and also something to say.

(AN: Not canon compliant now, ahah, since this fic assumes Steven and Connie are dating after the movie, and this doesn’t seem to be the case in SUF.)

The Shatter Wish (AO3, 1K words)

You’re 16 years and 2 months old (give or take a few days) when you finally realize you want to die.

(Steven's POV, second person)

(AN: This fic deals with delicate topics like depression and suicidal thoughts.)

Errands (AO3, 3K words)

Steven has an endless stream of items on his to-do list, so many that he often forgets to properly take care of himself in between.

Sneaking off into the woods on the daily to vent out his repressed emotions is merely one of them.

(AN: Not canon compliant now.)

The Brother on the Other Side (AO3, 2.9K words)

Lars has no idea what he was expecting the moment Steven texted him in the middle of the night to ask if he could come over, but being immediately tackled in an intense vice-grip of a hug the second he opened the door probably wasn’t it.

Like Clockwork (AO3, 500~ words)

Connie's got mountains of studying to do.

(It's not just an excuse to avoid reminders of old traumas, of course it's not! Everything's fine.)

Fight the Future (AO3, 3.6K words)

She’s poofed, he repeats to himself like a dying man’s mantra. She’s poofed. She’s stuck in the rubble, but she’s only poofed. She’s fine, and I’m fine, a-and—

Above the scars of Steven's wreckage, thunder claps like mighty titans colliding in the heavens.

(Or: what happens in the moments after Steven and Jasper's rematch.)

(AN: There’s kinda some sanity slippage here, as well as general mental unwellness.)

A Memoir of the Marks Unseen (AO3, 6.7K words)

Steven’s messy self-corruption has scarred him in a manner that transcends the mere physical.

Battling through suffocating waves of self-loathing and relapse, the  path towards healing and acceptance is set to be his most challenging  venture yet… but in a unexpected twist of fate, he eventually comes to  find a cathartic solace in the tangible marks left behind.

(AN: Deals with delicate topics such as depression, and also contains light body horror.)

Ticklish (AO3, 2.6K words)

In which Connie’s subconscious, innocent touch helps Steven realize just how nice the sensation of gentle fingertips gliding across the surface of one’s gem can be.

Connverse fluff.

No Escaping the Weather (AO3, 5.7K words)

Amidst an unusually stormy late summer’s day, Steven finally amasses the courage to confide in his dad about one of his greatest traumas.

(AN: Contains flashback sequences and a panic attack.)

(Our) Shadows Before the Dawn (AO3, 950~ words)

It's their nights that are the most difficult.

(AN: Steven and Connie hurt/comfort, post SUF. Deals with delicate topics such as panic attacks.)

Tides of Renewal (AO3, 2.5K words)

Now twenty years old and living on the other side of the country, Steven spends his morning relaxing on the beach, musing about his past, and having a chat with his dad.

(AN: Contains conversation about mental illness and vague allusions to past suicidal thoughts.)

Other one-shots:

Shattering Atlas (AO3, 4.2K words)

A boy can only carry an entire galaxy upon his back for so long before the weight of it all finally becomes too much.

(AN: A speculative one-shot about the “corrupted Steven theory” written pre-SUF. Deals with delicate topics such as depression, and also contains body horror.)

The Price of Freedom (AO3, ~800 words)

Even while sightless, even when she only exists as thin fingers of light rapidly spreading outwards from her gem, Rose can sense that something is deeply, dreadfully wrong.

Written for Whumptober 2020, Day 1: Waking up restrained.

#su #su future #steven universe #su fanfiction #jen rambles

[pockou]

silent moment

— pairings: armin arlert x nb!reader

— warnings: none !

— canonverse

— wc: 1k

a/n: i called hisu “krista” cus this is set in the training days or smth! + this is really just me testing some things a bit lol

You noticed everytime Armin took a glance at you, the way his blue eyes looked up from his book every so often and the way his nose and ears were tinted pink when he looked at you. He didn’t know you knew though, he thought he was being sneaky everytime he looked at you, he couldn’t help it though he thought you were just amazing to look at and he loved the sensation of butterflies he got when he looked at you. Just every small tingle that shot through his body when he saw you smile at what you were reading across the room, every time his lovestruck heart sped up when he almost got caught? That was everything to him, he never exactly had romantic feelings for anyone before he joined the 104th training squad and met you and it was already close to the time you’re all graduating and he still hadn’t made a move.

Although he got some advice it never was great, Eren said he had no clue what to do, Jean just brushed him off with a cocky remark even though he couldn’t get a girl himself and of course Marco apologized later on and told Armin to be himself but, Armin questioned if just his self was enough. He wasn’t the strongest when it came to combat, he definitely had a few redeeming traits and qualities but at the end of the day what if he wasn’t good enough? So being himself seemed to be out of the question is what he thought. Asking Reiner was a no go, he’d give awful advice being he’s been going after Krista and only made himself seem like a total creep. He was snapped back into reality when you came over all cheery-eyed and your big usual smile he loved oh so much.

“Hi Armin!”

“Oh, hi Y/N? Are you alright?” Ask how her days been, be nice to her this could be your chance. Armins mind flooded with the thought of just pulling you over the table and planting a kiss on your cheek, that would be the easy way out.

“Oh I’m fine, are you? I noticed you staring off in my direction and you look a bit flushed, are you feeling sick?” Your hand darted under his chin to tilt his head a bit before feeling his forehead.

“Oh, Oh! I’m alright really, it’s just kind of hot in here I guess..” He hid his hands away hoping you’d ignore how shaky he was in the given moment and all he did was look up at you and nervously smile.

“Alright then, wanna sit n’ chat? I’m free ‘cause Sadies hasn’t had me do anything today!” Just the way you smiled at him and spoke with such a kind attitude and cheaky ring to it made his mind run free of different ways he could confess right now. He could grab your hand and be a total heartthrob, or he could simply say he likes you more than a platonic way and say he has since he met you. There were too many options and his head just clouded with thoughts.

“Armin?”

“Oh uh, yeah sure come sit..” He scratched the nape of his neck, was he seriously going to go through with this plan he thought of five minutes ago.

“Seriously are you okay?” He darted up at you with a small half smile, all he thought was, ‘screw this plan.’ and he leaned in to plant a soft, gentle kiss on your cheek. You were stunned, Armin just kissed you? It all felt out of the blue and feelings you suppressed during training came flooding back in an instant.

“Sorry.” You looked at him in awe, you always knew he was handsome but now looking again you saw how perfectly his hair and bangs framed his face, how the collar of his button up was slightly popped due to moving constantly and how pretty his eyes were, they looked just like the ‘sea’ which he referred to every so often. His stupid bashful expression he always had when you allowed him to go on about his interests could always make you smile.

“Don’t be sorry! And um Armin?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you do that again?” His eyes lit up brighter than they usually do before he kissed your cheek again. You both were smiling and giggling messes while you both completely ignored the reading you had started and payed more attention to eachother.

At some point you ended up cuddled up on the floor with a book in hand while you both tried to read but every five minutes one of you started to laugh out of pure happiness. Everytime you simply giggled Armin felt like he was the luckiest guy on earth, he got to have you cuddled up against him while he made you laugh, he got to feel your lips against his cheek and hold your hand. He got to be that person and he couldn’t be more thankful for allowing himself to be reckless.

“Armin?”

“Yeah, Y/N?” He looked down a bit to make minor eye contact with you while smiling down at you a bit.

“Does this mean we’re together now?” His eyes went wide, you seriously wanted a relationship with him? Actually of course you did why else would you have been cuddling with him for? He gently cupped your cheek still softly smiling.

“Of course, only if that’s what you’re wanting though!” His smile got wider once you placed your hand over his own, the both of you sat and cherished this small moment, it was silent, nobody was there to bother you at all, it was just one sweet and quiet moment while you enjoyed the others warmth and comfort the other provided.

“Yeah, that’s what I want.” You kissed his inner palm while he visibly got a little flustered, Mr. Confident was gone but that was okay, he was himself and he was your Armin that only you got to share moments like these together with him.

#armin arlert #armin arlert x reader #armin arlert fluff #aot #aot x reader #aot x reader fluff #snk #snk x reader #snk x reader fluff

[overly-b]

Body Shots - JJ Maybank

Request: JJ x reader where they are at party and both high know for being life of the party but never met each other and one of them (doesn’t matter which) is dared to take a body shot off of the other

Warnings: underage drinking, swearing

Word Count: 1k

Authors Note: Thank you to @k-k0129 for the request and thank you for being so sweet about it taking so long. This was honestly a blast to write. 

You were a Kook known for being the life of most house parties, it seemed as if they were your natural habitat. The music was bumping, the drinks were flowing, and you were attempting to find something to do, or rather someone. 

After talking to a few friends, you run into a boy, JJ, you recognize as a Pogue. You had seen him at a few house parties before, usually just before he gets chased out by Rafe or Topper, but the Kook boys seemed to simply ignore JJ tonight, there seemed to be Kooks and Pogues alike at this party. 

You don’t know how it started, but people started comparing the two of you, saying that you were both the lives of the parties in your respective circles, that you were the best drinkers, him of the Pogues and you of the Kooks. Not long after comparisons were made, bets started being placed, you were sure if money was involved or not, but before you knew it, you were both seeing how long you could do a keg stand for. 

You tied. 

There must have been money involved because people started to demand a rematch, but you both declined. Deciding to sit at the bar of the kitchen, the two of you sit together. 

“What afraid that a rematch would prove that I could actually kick your ass?” JJ teased. You weren’t going to lie, it wasn’t the buzz that made the blond so attractive. It was the lighting of the room illuminating his face, the sleeveless shirt that he was wearing, allowing you to admire his tanned and toned arms and shoulders. It was the small smile that played on his lips whenever you would throw a dumb insult his way just to talk trash. 

You were surprised that you had never met JJ before. You both seemed to be the life of the parties, yes in your seperate circles, but your separate circles had been becoming less and less separate as time matured the kids on the island. 

It was obvious now that your trash talking had turned into light flirting, but would soon turn into heavy flirting, as someone passing by mentioned body shots. 

As soon as the phrase body shots passed through your ears, it was like your drunk brain perked up, and JJ saw it happen right before his eyes. His smile widened at the idea. You noticed that there were two other girls readying themselves for some beach boy to take a body shot off of them, so you made a decision. 

“Let’s do a body shot” You declare, hoping off of your bar stool, then realizing you’d have to climb back on to the chair to get onto the bar. JJ see’s this and takes you by the waist, lifting you into the countertop with ease. 

“Sit tight” 

JJ goes to the other end of the bar waiting to get handed the tequila, a lime, and some salt. When he returned, you surprised him, rather than lifting your shirt for your navel to receive the booze, you removed your shirt entirely, exposing the rather revealing bikini top you were sporting. His mouth watered on site. 

He watched as you laid down on the table. Swiping your finger on your tongue, you wet the side of your neck, allowing for him to sprinkle salt on the pulse point. 

“Lime me.” You hold out your hand. JJ gives you the lime wedge he found in the kitchen, eyeing you as you placed it between your teeth. JJ uncapped the Jose Cuervo, and carefully tilted the bottle to pour the amber liquid into your belly button. You suck in your stomach the booze and stay in place. 

“Everyone ready?” Some guy asks from behind the bar, this must have been his idea. “3, 2, 1, body shot!” 

Gently, JJ licks your neck, tasting the salt and smelling your perfume. The grains dissolve on his tongue as he shifts to your stomach. As sensually as he could, JJ sucked the booze from your navel, hearing you giggle as the cold liquid dripped down your stomach. Moving back up, he takes the lime from your lips, squeezing some of the juice into his mouth. As he does so, he finds that he loves the look in your eyes when you smile. He helps you sit up, lime still in his mouth, and as you jump down from the bar, you take the lime back from his lips and spit it out, smashing your lips onto his. 

He tasted of the sour citrus he stole from your teeth and the spicy tequila he drank off your tummy. It was as if the party around you was no longer, just you and him and your lips and tongues, fighting for grasp on each other. 

After a minute or two, you pull away, realising that this felt more than right, more than just some random make out at some random party, with some random guy. For some reason, this felt right, like you were supposed to be there, with him, and he was the one that you were always supposed to be kissing.

“Do you wanna get out of here?” You propose. 

“Mhm,” JJ nods with his bottom lip caught between his teeth. Fighting your way through the crowds of drunk teenagers, you find your way to the beach, deciding to sit in the sand with the party, a faint hum of loud music behind you. In the sand, you and JJ kiss more, allowing yourselves to be a bit more handsy now that you weren’t confined in the space of the kitchen, as well as confined by the stares of others. 

Allotting not to have sex on the beach, JJ begins talking to you, about what you like, what you dislike, what lead you to the life of partying and if you actually enjoy it. Before you know it, the sun came up, and unlike the typical you that would be sneaking away from a boys grasp at this hour of the morning, you chose to stay with this one, and he chose to stay with you.

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[winterisakillerwrites]

Enough

Title: Enough

One Shot: 1/1

Character: Tom Hiddleston/Sadie Collins (OFC)

Genre: romance/slight angst/realistic fluff

Rating: T

Summary: Sadie was everything Tom had always wanted; she was brilliant, funny, well read and, in his opinion, one of the most beautiful people he’d ever known. She held his attention like no one else in recent memory had. The only problem? She already belonged to someone else…  

Authors Notes/Warnings: This is for @just-the-hiddles 1k writing challenge, my dialogue prompt was “All I wanted was a happy ending”. This story took several twists and turns before ending up here. I hope you enjoy this @just-the-hiddles. A huge, huge, HUGE shout out to my writing partner in crime @redfoxwritesstuff, you have been an absolute godsend with this. I am eternally grateful for all your support and encouragement.

“All I wanted was a happy ending. Was that too much to ask for?”

The words fell softly from her trembling lips. She kept herself apart from him, hands wrapped protectively over her chest. Tom could see the shine of unshed tears in her eyes and felt his gut clench. Pain radiated off of her in waves and in that moment there was nothing Tom wanted more than to take away her pain. To fix everything. To see her smile again. Just once more.

Tom had always loved her smile; the way it lit her face and warmed any and everything around her. It had been one of the first things that had captured his attention nearly a year and a half before. He’d been dragged to yet another party (a way for him to meet people his manager assured him would benefit his career) and had found himself caught in another boring conversation when he’d allowed his gaze to wander around the room. She’d been standing near a bookcase, talking with a woman he’d recognized but couldn’t place. She’d been smiling and laughing at whatever her companion had said and Tom found himself unable to look away.

It had taken nearly fifteen minutes to work his way through to the room to reach her. He’d been stopped several times both by various actors he’d worked with in the past and by industry people who were interested in picking his brain regarding upcoming projects (had he ever considered this or that idea or was he looking forward to working with this actor/actress or this director). Tom has done his best to talk with them all (wouldn’t Luke and Michael be proud to see their continuing lectures on marketing oneself paying off), keeping a weathered eye on where she’d stood. The last thing he wanted was to risk losing sight of her and have her disappear right under his nose. Not when was so close.

Tom smiled as he finally extracted himself from conversation with a fellow RADA graduate he’d not seen in years but had gotten on with fairly well, wishing the man luck in his next endeavor; a period piece set to air on the BBC the following spring. Tom stole a quick glance toward the bookcase and was grateful to find her still there. Though her conversational partner had changed.

She was quite short, he’d noted. Shorter than he’d first thought. Her light brown hair was pulled back into a bun at the base of her skull, leaving the smooth skin of her neck and shoulders bare to his gaze. She’d dressed simply in a tea length dark blue dress. Nothing quite as flashy as he’d found to be common place at such gatherings but something that seemed to suit her perfectly.

“Excuse me,” he started, moving the last few feet towards her. Tom was exceedingly grateful to find her on her own; the companion he’d seen her with a few moments earlier had disappeared. “I don’t mean to be forward but I realize we’ve not been introduced and I wanted to remedy that. I’m Tom Hiddleston.”

He extended his hand toward her and felt a jolt of something when she took it gently in her own. Her hand was soft and warm. So small compared to his own.

“Sadie Collins. Very nice to meet you, Tom.”

And just as easily as that, Tom found himself completely lost.

They spent the rest of the evening simply talking. He’d learned she was a script editor for the BBC (she’d studied literature and film at Uni and had been lucky enough to catch the right person’s eye shortly after graduating) and had grown up not too far, incidentally, from where he himself had lived as a young boy. She was an only child and found his stories about his trials and tribulations as the middle child between two very different sisters hysterical. Sadie loved dogs (and cats and most mammals if she was being completely honest) and they talked at length about their mutual desire to own a dog of some sort once their lives were more settled. He talked about his recent experiences filming in the states and his upcoming projects. She talked about the latest show she’d been working on. Tom couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so utterly at ease around another person.

It wasn’t until Sadie mentioned the trip she’d taken a few months prior (a surprise anniversary gift from her boyfriend of two and a half years) that Tom felt the cloud he’d been standing on disappear. Of course she wasn’t single. Why would she be? She was a fascinating, brilliant, and charming woman. Any man would be out of their mind to let her get away. He silenced that small voice in his head roaring its displeasure. You can’t win them all, Hiddleston.

“Greece is absolutely lovely.” He’d found himself answering, hoping his smile hadn’t faltered. “Where exactly did you end up staying?”

She gushed about the tiny villa they’d stayed in and the days they’d spent exploring. Her boyfriend worked as a researcher for one of the university’s she’d liaised with through the BBC. They shared a love of exploring and history and it was abundantly clear to Tom she adored him. The way her face lit up as she talked about the history and the culture she’d immersed herself in during her trip was absolutely breathtaking.

He’d thrown out his own opinions and experiences and soon felt the disappointment in him tamper down. She might be taken but that didn’t mean the end of the world. Besides, with the way his career was shaping up, any sort of romantic relationship would unfortunately be forced onto the back burner. He simply wouldn’t have time to dedicate to building a meaningful something with another person.

That, in part, was why his last relationship had fallen apart. He had hardly been home in the last eight months and his ex couldn’t handle that. Especially knowing that it wasn’t (and couldn’t be) a one off thing. If he wanted to actually work in this industry, wanted to truly make a go of it, he had to keep himself out there and take any and every opportunity he could. So she’d handed him back her key to his flat, kissed him on the cheek and left. It had hurt, losing what he’d hoped would be a solid source of love and normalcy in the chaos he knew his life was diving into, but he’d understood. So he’d let her go.

“My god, it’s nearly midnight.” Sadie exclaimed, glancing at the watch on her wrist in disbelief. “I can’t believe it. I hadn’t planned on staying so late.”

Tom blinked in surprise. “Is it really?” He could have sworn it was much, much earlier. Surely they couldn’t have talked for hours. He let out a soft chuckle. “I guess it’s like they say, time flies when you’re having fun.” The words were lame and he’d known it but they’d left his mouth before he’d really processed them and there wasn’t anything he could do about it now.

Sadie laughed softly and shrugged. “I guess so. But that being said, I best be off. It was wonderful meeting you, Tom. I hope to do so again in future.”

He offered a small smile, ignoring the small jolt in his gut at the thought of her leaving. “I hope so as well.”

With a wave and a smile she was gone.

                                                           —

Tom had done his utmost to put that night behind him (and any lingering hope of what could have been had so many things been different), throwing himself in the maelstrom that his life was becoming. It was more difficult than he’d bargained for though. Sadie would creep into his thoughts seemingly at random throughout the day; he’d find himself studying lines and wondering what she was doing, sitting in a make-up chair and remembering the way her hazel eyes sparkled when she laughed, trying to squeeze in his daily run and replaying the stories she told him. It was utterly ridiculous. And there was little he could do to stop it.

If any noticed his distracted behavior, they had the good grace to never mention it. And that, Tom felt, was both a blessing and a curse. It meant maybe this…whatever it was…hadn’t been affecting his working life nearly as badly as he feared. It also meant that no one was there to really snap him out of it, save himself. And he managed, well enough. Jumping from project to project to promotion helped. Half the time he was too exhausted to do more than fall into whatever hotel bed he’d been assigned for the night, sleeping like the dead until he was roused by Luke or whatever poor sod was sent in his place. It wasn’t a maintainable pace by any stretch of the imagination, but he was young enough still and didn’t want to risk missing a single opportunity while he had the chance.

He spoke as often as he could with his mum and sisters, clinging to that small piece of normalcy and comfort they provided. He endured his mother’s quite vocal concern that he was burning the candle at both ends and could easily burn himself out in the process with as much grace as he was able. She’d had a point, of that he was most certainly aware. But, he’d assured her, this was only temporary. He would slow down as soon as he could. He told her that he knew his limits and he respected them. It was clear she didn’t quite believe him but she didn’t fight him on the matter. Not too much, anyway.

When he’d finally made it back home (he’d scored a brief two weeks completely free between projects and dear god it was desperately needed), Tom had all but cried in relief. It was wonderful being in his own space, to be able to see his friends and family. He’d filled a great deal of his time trying to squeeze in seeing everyone he could, something his mother chastised him for during the afternoon he’d taken to drive up to Suffolk to see her. “Not that I am not grateful to see you, darling. I just worry you’re doing too much. This is your rest time. You should actually try to spend it doing just that.” The time he didn’t spend sleeping or with friends and family was spent trying to finish all those little tasks that seemed to slip to the wayside.

He’d been out, finishing a quick round of shopping (yes, he could have people do it for him, and yes, it would make his life infinitely easier, but he’d needed the chance to feel as normal and grounded as possible) when he found himself staring at a very familiar face. He’d all but collided with her in his hurry to get out of the shop and on his way back home.

She stared up at him in bewildered annoyance before a spark of recognition flashed in her hazel eyes. The same eyes he’d seen all too often when he’d closed his eyes at night. Not that he would ever tell her so.

“Tom!” Sadie exclaimed, happily; her smile wide and bright. She moved, resettling the reusable shopping bag farther back on her shoulder. “How have you been?”

He returned her smile with a genuine one of his own. “Sadie, it’s wonderful to see you. I’ve been well. Busy but well. How are you?”

“Busy as well,” she answered with a laugh. “Though granted not quite as busy as you’ve seemed to be.”

Tom rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand. “Yeah. It’s been a bit…”

“Insane?” She offered.

He laughed and nodded. “That would certainly be one way of putting it.” He adjusted the bag in his hand, consciously aware of the fact that he needed to get his perishable items home relatively soon. But doing so would mean leaving Sadie and leaving now was something he knew he absolutely did not want to do. “Things still going well at the Beeb?”

Sadie laughed and nodded, “Very well. I’ve got two series getting ready for production in the next few months which is exciting and terrifying all at once.”

“I can imagine.”

The glint of light off her hand as she brushed a stray lock of hair from her face caught his eye.

Her left hand.

Tom felt his gut clench as his eyes focused on her hand and the ring that rested on her finger. It was a lovely piece of jewelry, he had to admit. A thing gold band with a rather large diamond (he didn’t know enough about diamonds to guess its value other than it must have been worth quite a fair amount of money).

She was engaged. When had that happened? He’d known she was seeing someone (and had been for a while) but an engagement meant the relationship was serious. The small bit of hope he’d stubbornly clung to crumbled in that moment and he cursed himself for ever even entertaining the idea of having any sort of chance with her in the first place. She wasn’t his to claim. In reality he’d only known her a few handful of hours. How that could ever translate into anything more…Especially not with regards to the madness that was his life at the moment.

He cleared his throat and nodded softly towards her hand. “I see congratulations are in order.”

She looked at him in confusion for a few moments before her face cleared and she smiled brightly. “Thank you. It’s been about a month now and I’m still trying to wrap my head round it.” He watched as she unconsciously looked down at the ring on her hand before raising her eyes back to his.

Tom returned her smile (though the action felt strained). She seemed so happy though, and he couldn’t let himself do anything to jeopardize that. “Understandable. Have you set a date yet?”

Sadie shook her head. “Not formally, no. But we’ve been thinking sometime late next year or early the year after at the latest. Nothing over the top, though. Something small, intimate. Just us and family.”

He nodded, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “Sounds wonderful.” And he’d meant it. Silence fell between them and they stood, watching one another for several minutes before Tom cleared his throat. “I…I need to get this shopping home. It’s been wonderful seeing you again, Sadie. I hope I will get to do so again in future.”

“Well if you ever find yourself on a BBC production…” Sadie let the words hang between them, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear.

Tom smiled warmly at her. “If I do, I will certainly look you up.”

She stepped to the side to let him pass, raising her hand and offering a quick wave. He nodded his head towards her, taking her in one last time before hurrying off down the busy pavements towards home.

                                                          —

Two days later found Tom sitting across from his agent, script in hand. It was still technically his holiday (he had two more days of freedom before delving back into the chaos of another long shoot) and when Michael called that morning his first instinct had been to switch the bloody device off and to let the man hang. But his damned curiosity had gotten the better of him.

He’d been sitting, nursing his coffee and reading through the newspaper before him when his mobile rang; Michael’s number scrolling across the screen. Tom groaned aloud, disgruntled at his peace being disrupted and curious as to what was so urgent that his agent couldn’t wait another few days. A part, it seemed. And one he’d fully believed Tom would jump at.

So far Michael had been correct. He’d only gotten through the first few pages but he was already hooked. He also didn’t miss that it was a modern take on a very familiar Shakespearian play. Tom sighed, knowing full well he had a type and just how well those around him seemed to know it. Still, judging by the length of the script and the bare details Michael had given him, the project appeared to be a lengthy one and Tom wasn’t sure how his schedule, as packed as it was rapidly becoming, was going  to be able to fit this in. He was getting up there in recognition (something he still couldn’t quite wrap his head around) but he didn’t quite think he had the clout to entertain the idea of getting this project to work around his schedule and not that of its producers.

“Well?” Michael sat across from him, hands folded on the desk top, eyes intent.

“It’s quite good…Very good, if I’m being honest…”

“Then why am I sensing a bit of hesitation?”

Tom scrubbed a hand over his face. He’d forgone shaving during his break and therefore had the makings of a fairly decent beard. It had itched something fierce coming in but he’d found it rather comforting now, mainly for the bit of anonymity it brought him. People who spotted him on the street still stared but now couldn’t quite seem to place him. It was wonderfully freeing to wander down the streets of central London left more or less to his own devices.

“I just…You know how packed my schedule is.” He paused, picking up the script and held it up towards Michael. “I love this, and you knew that I would, but how can I possibly fit this in…I’m booked very nearly solid for the next several months.”

Michael nodded. “Fair point, Tom. But they want you and they are willing to work with your schedule if that means getting you.”

“Seriously?” It didn’t make any sort of sense. Yes, he was doing rather well for himself, but there was a staggering difference between that and having a production company point blank that they were willing to work around your availability.

“Seriously.” Michael leant over the desk, smiling at his client. “So shall I ring them and say you’re in?”

Tom blinked, letting the idea slowly sink in. It was a fantastic part and he very much wanted the ability to work with it. After several moments he nodded. “Yes, please.”

                                                         —

Tom settled himself at the table set up for the day’s read-through. He’d made small talk with a few of the actors and the show’s director as they waited for everyone to trickle in. Catching up with familiar faces and introducing himself to those he’d not had the pleasure of knowing. For the last several months he (and Michael and Luke) had been in constant contact with the show’s producers, trying to nail time availability and start planning concrete rehearsal and filming schedules. It was grueling and the stress might certainly have done him in had he not been so excited to start.

Murmured conversations echoed all around him as he grabbed a water bottle that had been left at his place and twisted its cap off. A quick glance at his watch told him they had maybe five minutes before things were set to start. He glanced around the room, taking in a few familiar faces as the writing team settled into their respective places. At two minutes to the hour the door opened once more. Out of habit more than anything, Tom glanced up and felt everything around him freeze.

With her hair piled high on her head and a warm, royal blue cardigan wrapped around her shoulders, Sadie slipped into the room smiling warmly at various faces she recognized. He hadn’t he faintest idea she was at all involved in the project and felt idiotic for not realizing it sooner. She was a script editor for the BBC and had worked on similar projects (he was willing to admit, if only to himself, that he had looked up her work history online after their initial meeting; his innate curiosity winning out over his sense of propriety). It would make complete and total sense that she’d be involved in this.

It wasn’t until she’d settled between the director and the head writer that Sadie seemed to take note of him. The smile that had spread across her face was bright and Tom swore he could feel the warmth radiating from it. She mouthed a quick ‘hello’ which he returned in kind with a wide smile of his own. There was a brief flurry of introduction before they set to work on the first proper table read. They flew through the first few pages with ease, pausing occasionally to play with wording or with the timing of a pause or start of a line.

Tom had always enjoyed this process of a new production; getting to build off of his fellow actors and see the raw form of the story they were telling start to take shape. There were several kinks still to work out, as there tended to be this early in the game. Odd phrasings or scene placements that didn’t quite fit. Nothing they wouldn’t eventually sort out one way or another.

Out of the corner of his eye, Tom could see Sadie scribbling furiously away on her copy of the script, occasionally breaking to share an aside with the writer. He smiled at the obvious dedication she had for her work. It was yet another piece of the puzzle that was her and he was eager to learn all that he could. He did his utmost best to focus on the pages before him. The last thing he wanted was to be the one holding up their progress through the script. They made it through the next several pages before breaking for lunch.

Several people attempted to engage him in conversation and he’d done his best to remain polite while trying to slip through the throng and catch Sadie before she had a chance to disappear. True, she would most likely be back after lunch, he’d known that, but it hadn’t stopped the need to talk with her. By the time he’d extricated himself from the rehearsal room, Sadie was nowhere to be found. He cursed his own innate sense of politeness and headed through the hallway, hoping she’d not gone too far.

He caught up with her at the coffee cart in the lobby of the building. She was in the middle of her order, absently reaching into her purse for her wallet. Without thinking, he pulled his from his back pocket and took out a crumpled twenty pound note, handing it over to the woman running the cart. “A pour over as well, love,” he added. The fleeting worry that perhaps he’d overstepped his bounds hit him as soon as the words left his lips. Gods above, I sound like a complete arse.

Bewildered, Sadie turned around. Her confusion quickly melted into surprised amusement. “Tom?”

“Sadie.” He took the change handed back to him, dropping a few of the pound coins into the tip jar. “Sorry, I know I am intruding, I just…It’s wonderful to see you.”

“It’s nice to see you as well Tom.” She took the coffees, handing Tom his steaming mug, before turning back and grabbing the sandwich she’d ordered. “You didn’t have to buy my lunch though. I may not be rolling in coin like someone I know,” she shot him a knowing look, “but I can afford a coffee and a sandwich.”

Tom winced. God, he had overstepped.

Sadie tossed back her head and laughed. “Jesus, Tom, I was just messing with you. I’m not at all upset that a rather well off film star felt the need to buy me lunch.” She reached up and patted him lightly on the arm. Tom felt the familiar surge of electricity in her touch. “…Honestly, though, thank you. You really didn’t have to.”

A wave of relief flooded through him (the absolute last thing he’d wanted was to turn her off by acting like a prat) and he offered a small, but cheeky smile. “You can spot me next time then.”

She quirked an eyebrow. “You seem so certain there’ll be a next time.”

“Hopeful is more accurate,” he answered with a small shrug. “I figure I will be seeing a lot of you on this project, with your job and mine being what they are, and a friendly face is always a welcome sight on shoots.” He rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand, knowing he was letting his mouth run away with him once again. He was forever being lectured about it from both Michael and Luke (“My God, Tom, for once can you think before you open your mouth?”); what could be endearing also tended to be a logistical and PR nightmare in certain situations.

“Fair point,” she conceded, smiling as she shook her head. “But keep in mind, next time I am paying, Hiddleston.”

“Dully noted.”

                                                       —

As table reads turned into rehearsals and then into actual filming, Tom found himself lost once more in the insanity that was his chosen career. He was grateful for the lack of heavy, often stifling period costume. As fun as it could be to play dress up (his inner four year-old still giggled in delight that he was actually paid to do this), running around in several layers of leather and the like was not something he particularly enjoyed.

The modern setting of this particular story meant a much shorter jaunt in make-up and wardrobe and in a much freer feeling of movement. Alice, his costar, had been in full agreement. “Corsets are bloody murder,” she’d told him as they waited for the scene to be set on the first few days of filming. “They may look pretty but fuck if you have any real ability to move.”

Sadie had been on set most days over the last several months, running back and forth with updated copies of scripts and talking with the director and cast as needed. And Tom had done his best to try to pick her brain whenever she saw her on set. They’d taken to making coffee runs and, when they could, quick lunches (mostly whatever they could nick from the catering tents) and endless, endless talking. Sadie, he quickly found, was one of the easiest people to talk to. She was brilliant and quick on her feet and willing to match him word for word in whatever debate they ended up in. It was easy for Tom to forget he hadn’t known her forever, that they hadn’t been friends for ages.

In a way her engagement (it still tugged at his heart to think the word and of just what it meant) had been a blessing in disguise. Tom had wanted her from the moment they’d met (there was no point in denying it to himself anymore) and had she been free and he’d made a move….would he be sitting here now, across from her talking about the latest books they’d read (she tended to lead him in that category as his life had been far too chaotic to allow him time to truly lose himself in a book that wasn’t work related). Or would it have burnt out just as quickly as it started and have left him never knowing just how amazing a person she truly was. It didn’t bear thinking. And honestly what good would thinking about all the ‘what ifs’ and ‘what fors’ do him? Things were as they were and he couldn’t change them even had he wanted to. He accepted it, was grateful for the small pieces he was able to have. The warmth of her friendship was worth any lingering want.

                                                       —

“What are you doing for the holidays?” Sadie asked, bringing her takeaway coffee cup to her lips and blowing softly before taking a cautious sip. It was a week before filming was set to break for the winter holidays. She and Tom taken to hiding in his makeshift trailer between takes most days that week as they’d been finishing most of the exterior scenes.

It had been an absolutely blustery day and despite the fact they’d broken for lunch nearly twenty minutes before, Tom still felt half frozen. He’d kept the parka he’d been given by the wardrobe department on and cranked the tiny space heater he’d found in his trailer as high as he’d dared, and still he was shivering intermittently. His only saving grace was the idea that after today the majority of the exterior shots would be complete. And thank god for that.

Tom chuckled and rubbed his hands up and down the insides of crossed arms, hoping a bit of friction would stop the shivering. “My eldest sister and her husband are flying in from India. We’re all heading up to my mum’s for Christmas. I haven’t had a Christmas at home in the last few years, with my life being what it’s been, and I am so, so glad I’m able to this year.” He paused and took a sip of his own coffee, wincing as it burned his mouth and throat. “And you?”

She smiled warmly at him. “Andy and I are heading up to Edinburgh to visit his family.”

“Very nice.” Tom paused and took another sip of his coffee. “When are you heading up?”

Sadie placed her cup beside her on the trailer floor. The small table beside her had been taken over by pages of script and other various bits and bobs Tom had collected in the past few weeks of filming and was virtually unusable as a table. “Friday afternoon. He’s got a late class at the university and we’re heading up after.”

Tom nodded in understanding. “I’m heading to mum’s Saturday morning. My scenes should be wrapped up by then and I’m hoping if I leave early enough I can beat a fair bit of the traffic.”

“Good luck with that,” Sadie laughed, shaking her head. “We’re taking the train.” She laughed at the face Tom made. “Yes, I know it’ll be crowded but it’s infinitely easier than driving the whole way. Andy’s brother is set to collect us from the station and take us to his parents.”

A knock sounded on the trailer door followed by the familiar voice of Hanna, one of the PA’s on set. “Five minutes, Tom!”

“Alright!” he called back, glancing instinctively towards the door. He turned his attention back to Sadie and felt the familiar pool of disappointment in his gut as she smiled at him and pushed herself to her feet.

He watched as she gathered her bag and her nearly empty coffee cup and headed towards the trailer door. “I’ll let you get back to work. If I don’t see you before we break, happy Christmas Tom.”

“Happy Christmas.” He took two steps towards her and pulled her into a quick hug. “Take care of yourself alright?”

“Always.” She shrugged into her coat and slipped out into the windy afternoon.

Tom sighed as he heard the door click closed behind her. He settled himself onto the narrow and far too short couch and closed his eyes, wanting to enjoy his last few moments of warmth before having to surrender himself to the mercy of the bitter cold. He had just managed to get warm enough to doze off when another knock sounded on the door. With a groan, Tom flipped off the space heater and headed out of the trailer, following Hanna back towards set.

                                                         —

Tom settled himself onto the couch the following Friday evening, a cup of hot chocolate in one hand, and sighed. His bag was packed and waiting by the door in the front hall. Part of him had been tempted to say ‘fuck it’ and drive up that night, but the sudden hit of his own exhaustion steadied his hand. The absolute last thing he’d wanted was to end up wrapping his car around a tree because he’d nodded off at the wheel. Best to try to call it an early night and leave first thing in the morning like he’d originally planned.

He took a small sip of the steaming chocolate and let its warmth flood through him. He bent forward, grabbing the remote for the television he hardly ever used and turned it on. Several journeys through the channels later he settled on a Christmas special for one of the newer BBC dramas. He hadn’t a clue what was happening in the program but the background noise was a lovely distraction to the silence of the house.

Tom had just about dozed off when a buzz sounded from the front hall. He sat up, blinking fuzzily as his brain tried to place the noise and its meaning. The front gate. Right. He pushed himself to his feet, placing the now empty mug on the edge of the table, and stumbled towards the hall and the gate security panel. He pressed the button which cued up the camera and blinked for several seconds as his brain attempted to process just why Sadie was standing at his front gate. Shouldn’t she be on a train to Edinburgh?

Knowing none of his questions could possibly be answered by simply standing there like a dolt, he pressed the intercom button and waved her in. A few moments later her hesitant knock came on his front door. Tom pulled it open quickly and found her shuffling from foot to foot, a lost look in her eyes. “Sadie, darling, are you alright?”

She took a deep breath and shook her head. “Can…Can I come in?”

“Of course,” he assured her. “Of course you can.” He stepped quickly aside and allowed her to slip quietly past him and into the hall. “Would you like a cup of tea? Coffee? I’ve hot chocolate if you’d rather?”

She flashed him a small smile which didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Tea would be lovely.”

He ushered her into the living room before darting into the kitchen and setting the kettle to boil. He pulled a tin of Earl Grey and a mug from the cabinet and placed them both on the counter near the kettle. Once the kettle boiled, he set to brewing the tea. He padded towards the fridge, pulling out a carton of milk and adding a splash to the steaming amber liquid. He carried the mug back into the living room and offered it to her without a word.

Sadie took it with a soft murmur of thanks and held in between her hands. She’d settled on the couch, shoes on the floor and her legs curled beneath her. He settled himself into the arm chair opposite.

After several minutes of silence, Tom leant forward resting his elbows on his knees. “What’s happened?”

Sadie took a deep breath, her fingers curled around the mug. “I’m sorry for just showing up here…I just…I was walking and I looked up and I was here…I know you’ve probably got things you need to be doing. I’m sorry…” She pushed herself to her feet and placed the undrunk tea onto the table. “I should leave you be.”

“Don’t,” Tom started, jumping to his feet. “Please, somethings obviously wrong. Sadie, you are my friend. You came to me. Please let me help if I can.”

She nodded and sat back down on the couch, wrapping her arms around her middle. It was several minutes before she spoke again. “He left.”

Tom blinked in confusion. “Who left? Andy? You mean he left for Edinburgh without you? Why?”

Sadie shook her head. “No…Well yes, he did leave for Edinburgh. But no, he’s left me. He was gone when I got back to the flat this evening. I called, thinking maybe I’d gotten the times wrong. And he…” She paused and took a deep breath before carrying on, her voice cracking slightly as she did so. “He said he can’t do this anymore…That he’s been thinking about it for a while now. Told me he’s not ready for this kind of commitment; that he hadn’t been sure when he proposed but went on with it anyway…He said he was so sorry but he couldn’t keep going on with this, with us. God, Tom, he just…Four fucking years and he just…”

“Oh Sadie.”

She blinked up at him with glassy eyes. “All I wanted was a happy ending. Was that too much to ask for?”

He took Sadie’s cold hands into his own, rubbing them; hoping to infuse some of his warmth into her. She offered him a tremulous smile and he felt his heart break at the sight. “I’ve got you,” he whispered, squeezing her hands gently. It wasn’t all he’d wanted to say. Not even close. But he couldn’t see any way of saying what he wanted desperately to say that wouldn’t frighten or overwhelm her. And scaring her was the absolute last thing he wanted to do.

“I just…Why wasn’t I enough?” The words were whispered, clearly not intended for his ears. But he heard them all the same.

Tom wasn’t a violent person by nature but Christ, he wanted nothing more than to rip the asshole who’d broken her heart to shreds. To tear him limb from limb for the audacity to be so careless with such a wonderful, loving heart. To string Sadie along, make her promises, build a life with her, and then rip all away because he ‘wasn’t ready’.

The rational part of his brain knew it was better that Andy had ended it before he and Sadie actually married. That even though Sadie was hurt (and it was so clear that she was blindsided by this), she would recover from this much easier than if she’d actually tied their lives together in the legally binding sense. But rational was far from Tom’s state of mind at the moment. He fought to keep his hands from shaking as they held onto hers.

“You are enough,” he heard himself growl. He felt Sadie’s hands tense in his and he cursed his emotional response. God, she didn’t need this now. Tom cleared his throat, hoping to calm himself enough to speak rationally. To express himself in a way that wouldn’t scare her. “Sadie,” he started again, his voice even, “you are enough. And if he can’t see that then it’s his loss. If he can’t look at you and know for certain that you are what he wants then it’s no one’s fault but his own.”

She blinked up at him. “Tom, I…”

Tom smiled softly at her as he brought her hands to his lips, kissing them gently before releasing them. He took a deep breath. “You might not feel it right now. But Sadie, to me you are enough. You’ve always been. You are smart and you are capable. You are brilliant and funny and warm. You are so many wonderful, amazing things.” He clasped his hands before him in his lap and smiled warmly at her. “You’ve become such an important part of my life. So much more than I will ever be able to say. And I know this is too soon and probably too much, and I probably shouldn’t be saying this at all but I want you to know…I want you to understand, that you are someone’s first choice. You are my first choice, hands down. Every. Single. Time.” She opened her mouth to speak and he held up a hand to silence her. “Wait, please.”

Confusion shone in her bright eyes as she stared at him in silence. After several moments she nodded silently.

“I want to know that you, just as you are, are enough.” He smiled softly at her before rushing on. “You are more than enough. And I don’t say this to force you into returning my feelings or to pressure you into something I know you are in no way ready for. I say this because I want you to know that no matter what you choose, you have me in your corner. I will love you as a friend or as more. That choice is yours and you have all the time in the world to decide what it is you want. Sadie, you have become one of my dearest friends. I value your opinion and your candor above all others. You are my friend and if that is all you need of me then I will gladly accept it. That would be enough for me.”

Tom watched the emotional swirl across her face. Confusion, uncertainty, disbelief, and just a fraction of hope. He took another slow breath and waited, knowing that whatever happened next, good or ill, he would bear and gladly if it meant she could have a moment’s peace. That would be enough.

#Tom Hiddleston #Tom Hiddleston RPF #Tom Hiddleston x oc #Tom Hiddleston x original character #Tom Hiddleston x ofc #tom hiddleston x original female character #justthehiddles1k

[atlabeth]

omg lucky

i still have two weeks until i’m out 😭

anyways it’s been a while since we’ve interacted! to celebrate i thought i’d send a req for an anthony bridgerton fic??

everything is totally up to you but i’ve been suuuper stressed lately so maybe you could work out something with that 😅

sending love as always 💕

- simply

viscountess - anthony bridgerton

summary: when you begin to doubt yourself, your husband is there to quell your thoughts.

a/n: yeah, we started school early this year so we got to end early, and as a senior i get out even earlier. and yes, it has been way too long since we've talked and im so sorry for that!! thank you for sending in a req, i know it's not totally what you asked for but i hope you still like it! good luck w whatever is going on right now, i believe in you and ily always<333

wc: 1.3k

warning(s): some insecurity but otherwise complete fluff

A hefty sigh fell from your lips as your fingers threaded through your hair, the cool night breeze traveling around you calming you at least a little bit. It was far too late to still be up, nonetheless outside pondering on the swings, but you could not help it. Tossing and turning was doing you no good, so you figured a change of scenery and fresh air would be of some aid. 

Your prophesied future as a spinster had been snuffed out by one Anthony Bridgerton, his courtship of you through your third season resulting in a marriage that surprised the entire ton but excited your mother so much that she fainted when she heard the news of the proposal. Certainly, no one had expected that you, the soft-spoken, bookish, middle daughter of a nobleman, would be the one to tame the viscount’s rakish ways and win his heart, but he fell completely for you, and you for him. 

Such expectations were the reason for your midnight outing. You were held to the highest standards after your elder brother married the daughter of a marquess and your youngest sister secured the favor of a young earl — though your lineage was mostly secured, you were expected to continue the tradition of marriage above your station. 

And though your first two seasons were filled with a variety of suitors yet no proposals, the beginning of your third season also marked the beginning of your love story with the Viscount Bridgerton. 

How you ever managed to catch his eye, you’ve no idea. But you thank whatever is responsible for it every day, for you’d never been more in love than you were with Anthony Bridgerton. He courted you, he fell for you, and he proposed, in that order — a month later, you were the Viscountess Bridgerton. 

You loved Anthony, and you loved his family. Everything that Anthony did, it reinforced his belief that you belonged with him, and you belonged in the life you now had. But the ton was notorious for gossip, and with every penned paper by Lady Whistledown writing about your shortcomings and every whisper from a scorned mama who had been determined to for her daughter to marry into the Bridgertons, your confidence in your ability to truly fill the role you had ended up in fell more and more. 

And thus your outside visit. You sat on the swings, swaying back and forth as you steeped in your own woes. You did not quite know why you had chosen here of all places, but a recalled memory of Eloise claiming it was “an excellent place to clear one’s mind” came to the forefront. She was certainly correct; you might not have found your insecurities disappearing, but you did feel the slightest bit calmer. 

You rested your head against the rope, your grip keeping it steady, as you kicked at the loose dirt below you. The chill of the hour was beginning to get to you as you shivered — your nightgown was not made for this sort of weather, but the stagnant air inside the estate did nothing to sooth your racing mind in comparison to the outdoors. 

Unfortunately, your isolation was to be interrupted. You heard the footsteps behind you first alerting you to another’s presence, but a smile immediately formed when you heard his voice. 

“And what are you still doing up?” 

You were greeted with the smiling, albeit concerned, face of your husband when you turned around, and you answered with a nonchalant shrug. “I could ask you the same.”

Anthony hummed in acknowledgment as he walked over, not even hesitating as he sat down on the swing next to you. “It is common knowledge that I am always the one working late into the night. You have not yet claimed the title of ‘avid over-worker’ that I solely hold, and it is my job to ensure you never do.” 

Your lips quirked up at the corners but you glanced away. “Worry not; I am just enjoying the fresh air. I haven’t even looked over the finances to ensure your numbers are correct.”  

“The ceremony was but a month ago,” he quipped. “Do not tell me you have already forgotten the vows.” You looked at him with thinly veiled amusement, and before you could ask, Anthony nodded. 

“Yes — this is my way of getting you to reveal what is ailing you.” He offered another slight smile. “I am your husband; I can tell when something is wrong. It will do you no good to keep your worries in.” 

You gave him a pointed look. “That sounds awfully like me. Are you sure you are alright?” 

“Where do you think I got it from?” he said with a chuckle. “I have learned many times over that it is of great importance to share your issues with others rather than hold them in and hope they go away.” 

You sighed again, your gaze falling from his eyes to the dirt below you. “I admit I am having… doubts.” 

Anthony frowned. “About what?” 

“About my role in all of this,” you said quietly. “I feel… woefully inadequate. To be both your wife and the viscountess.” 

“What could possibly make you think that?” he asked, and when you looked back at him his expression was incredulous. 

“Common sense?” you said with a shrug. “You are everything to me, Anthony, but that does not mean that I am suited to be a part of your life. I… I just cannot stop worrying that you have made a mistake by choosing me.” 

“Then it appears that your definition of common sense is completely inaccurate,” he responded curtly, “as I do not think I have heard anything more ridiculous.” 

In your silence, Anthony turned fully towards you. “You are the woman I love more than life itself, and not a thing in this world could make me think otherwise. Both my siblings and my mother adore you— even our staff has not a single ill thing to say about you. You are intelligent, thoughtful, stubborn in the best way — there is no one I would rather have by my side for anything.”

You smiled in spite of yourself. “When did you become such a sap?” 

“When I fell in love with a woman deserving of my every praise,” he said with a smile of his own. 

Anthony reached out and set his hand on yours, intertwining your fingers with his own. The notion on its own sent warmth through your body, almost instantly forming a smile on your lips. The effect that he had on you was as present as the day you’d met him, and somehow you knew it would never fade. 

“I understand it is a hefty transition to viscountess, but you should know I will be there for you every step of the way,” he said. “Although I doubt you will need my help, seeing as you are more than capable of handling anything that comes your way.” 

“Anthony—” you started, but he shook his head. 

“Do not even try to prove me wrong,” he interrupted, “as I think the feat is impossible.” 

“Thank you,” you said through a blossoming smile, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks at his words. “I love you.” 

“I love you too. More each and every day.” Anthony’s eyes were filled with a warmth and softness, eyes that you could happily melt in. “And as your husband that loves you, I beg of you to come to me with these doubts should you have them again. I will happily prove you wrong each and every time.”

“How are you so effortlessly confident in my abilities when not even I believe the words you say?” you wondered, and Anthony squeezed your hand. 

“Because you are my viscountess,” he murmured with a smile, “and I will always be there for you.” 

-

sorry for posting this so late at night but im physically incapable of holding my writing in longer than five seconds lol

perm tags: @dv0412 @siriuslyslyslytherin @maruchan77 @simonsbluee @kwyloz @masteroperator 

bridgerton tags: @theonewithallthemilkshakes

anthony bridgerton tags: @gwenebear @lurkymurker @likeballet

#sadie's 1k one shots #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton x you #anthony bridgerton fic #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton fic #anthony bridgerton fanfic #x reader #bridgerton imagine #sadie writes #realized while i was writing this that this is kinda just. the regency version of my sokka night owl fic lmao #but ignore that #its not plagiarism if its my own fic

[atlabeth]

hey guys!!!

so. i’m officially done w school (🥳🥳🥳) and i don’t know if i’ll regret this or not but i’m temporarily opening requests back up TEMPORARILY !!!

i’m only doing this for bridgerton and outer banks, and you can find my character list in my navigation. you can send requests that you make up or you can send in prompts (also in my nav)

idk how long i’ll keep this open but yeah. i figure this can also work as a 1k event of some sort bc that’s an insane milestone so i should celebrate it w you guys a little bit. okay anyways thanks love u all send stuff in if you want <3

#outer banks x reader #bridgerton x reader #sadie’s 1k one shots #??? maybe the tag maybe the vibe idk #anyways. it would b cool if you could send stuff in so this doesn’t flop