#if I would keep writing this Dream would turn mad

[vidalswife]

Open Fire

Word Count: I.8k

— pairing: agatha harkness / wanda maximoff, post wandavision, pre aaa.

Summary: Its been months since Wanda Maximoff defeated Agatha Harkness in Westview and left her powerlessly trapped in a fake persona. What happens when the brunette witch somehow escapes, finding Wanda in her seclusion. An even bigger question, will Wanda team up with her to accomplish the end to Agatha's plan, and if so, what will happen as the two get closer?

author's note: this chapter does not contain any pg13+ material. however in the future of the story, there will be mature themes, so if you are a minor i advise you not to interact. on another note, i wrote this beginning to a fanfiction while waiting for agatha's spinoff to release. i am aware my fic has been stolen and published on another platform, however it is my writing, as you will see, parts of it were edited out. if you would like proof of ownership i shall surely message you. it will not be based on the show, but possibly could have elements of it! and in order not to spoil the plot i will leave it at that. <3

The redhead smiled at the knock on her door, expecting a hiker or a mountaineer to be waiting for her, she called out a quick "I’ll be right there", rushing to grab the refreshments she typically offered to those passing by.

Ever since she left Westview, since defeating Agatha, she’d been in the mountains of Slovakia. A small cabin was all she needed, it had a room, a kitchen, a small area with couches. It wasn’t perfect, but it was hers. She crafted it on her own. She had finally reached the full potential of her power, at least she thought she did, and she used it to start anew. She did not want to be found, and she didn’t need anyone, but still, when hikers or tourists came around, she enjoyed the company. She would bake them pastries and bread every now and then. Agatha taught her to bake, but then again, Agatha taught her a lot.

When Wanda was growing up, she didn’t learn to bake or cook, but the witch she left behind in Westview taught her so many lessons about living in a mortal world. She’d hated her, for the most part, but there were so many things in her new life she had to credit to the brunette with mad curls.

As she placed the bowl of freshly baked bread upon the table, and the lemonade in a pitcher to the side, she checked her hair in the mirror planted on the wall, when she was satisfied, she opened the door.

And with a sudden flush, in the very instant, her heart sank, and she slammed the door.

_________________

It couldn’t be happening, I mean Wanda knew she couldn’t play keep-away forever with the other woman, but it sure as hell seemed like the best temporary option.

She turned with her back against the door, closing her eyes and exhaling a stress filled sigh.

”Now, is that any way to greet an old friend?” said 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 voice. Even though there was no mistaking who owned the captivating tone, Wanda wished that when she opened her eyes, she would wake up, and she would somehow be in a dream.

But alas, when she did open her eyes, reality hit the redhead like a semi-truck.

Standing in front of her was Agatha Harkness, the now powerless, crazy, curly haired raveness. The ‘evil’ witch she had defeated some time ago.

Wanda instantly resorted to using her magic, sending magical cuffs around the woman’s wrists, to which Agatha simply chuckled, “I’m starting to get the notion this wasn’t as pleasant of a surprise as i had hoped.”

”Oh, really? You think so?” spat the ginger, a soft hand now palming her forehead. She figured the witch would return one day, rise again and try to get her powers back. However she never figured it would happen only months later. She may have been the most powerful being to exist, but there was no doubting the strength of the other witch in the room, or anyone she could have used to free herself.

”Wanda, dear, these cuffs aren’t necessary” she reminded, hinting that she no longer had powers.

Wanda's brow furrowed, her eyes flooding to the sight of the cuffed and powerless brunette in her living area. She wondered about removing restraints, questioned the probability that Agatha knew other ways to harm her, and she figured it was best to keep them.

”Listen doll, I haven't come to harm you, I've come to help you.” she spoke, and Wanda slowly inched closer, tilting her head as her lips parted, in an attempt to suggest something that would not come out. It was like the woman read her mind, one of the powers she had was the ability to manipulate, interact with, and read minds, but that had only been with those in Westview. . and there was no way she had power again.

”How did you know what I was thinking, Agatha?” she said, tone cruel and interrogative. With the settlement of these words, she was inches from the other witch, her expressions clearly showing some form of confusion and anger combined. Agatha loved playing with the gingerette’s mind. It was almost an impossible thing to avoid.

”Wanda Wanda Wanda” she spoke, a long pause shadowing the calling of the woman's name. Wanda noticed how intently the witch was watching her, observing her, studying her. With a smooth and subtle smirk, she began to speak again, “You can’t ever make things easy for yourself, can you?” Agatha slowly began to move, raising her hands from behind her back, which were free from wanda’s cuffs, almost as if they had never existed.

Wanda stood lifeless, frozen and in shock. Slowly she began backing away, realizing that this meant 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘢 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝙥𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙨.

”How did you–” she was cut off by a hand raising, a dim and small light of purple emerging from tan fingertips. Agatha whispered an incantation, flicked her wrist, and Wanda was forced upon the door, unable to move.

The witch inched closer, smirking at the woman’s confused look. “You're so. . dull. thinking you could take away 𝘢𝘭𝘭 of my power, and keep me trapped in your silly little persona?” she chuckled, “It took less than a week for me to break the curse you put on me, less than a month to gain some of what I lost. . I could’ve killed you, you know. I've been watching you, Wanda.” The redhead shivered at the thought of just dying, no warning, to the hands of Agatha Harkness, albeit. It made her think of Pietro, how he was dead, and never coming back.

”Oh, but don’t worry, I have bigger plans for you” she spoke, closer to wanda than ever before. Wanda had conflicting feelings towards Agatha. They had shared a friendship, of course, when Agatha was Agnes, and Wanda was “evil”. No matter the details, the two witches had built a rapport with one another. An unspoken understanding was present, so Wanda believed her when she said she wasn’t 𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺 planning to kill her.

”If you really want to help, with whatever twisted, fucked up idea you have of what I ‘need’, let me out of this hold.” Wanda shot a smile at the brunette, and Agatha simply tilted her head in consideration, before repeating another incantation.

The binding yet blinded force was now constructing her body, pressuring her more into the door. She yelped, wincing at the pain. Part of her wanted to use her magic, but she had learned it would do no good the last time she tried.

Agatha had a devilish smile on her lips, one that Wanda knew too well.

“Please” she winced. The older woman only chuckled mischievously, before flinging her wrist left.

As the redhead felt the force upon her body release, she sighed. Part of her wanted to run up and punch the other witch, mainly for imposing on her life so soon into her newly found peace (for the most part). Wanda instead shot an angry look at the brunette, and Agatha replied with an obvious smirk and a raise of her eyebrows.

”I'm sorry to have wasted you a trip, but I don’t want any help from 𝙮𝙤𝙪, and I never will” she remarked, walking away from the essence of the woman, to her kitchen counter. She grabbed a pitcher out of the fridge, pouring a glass of cold water. It was risky turning her back on such a powerful person, especially after refusing an offer, but there was some form of trust she felt, something unexplainable that she only felt with her.

It was quiet for a moment, until finally she heard the heels softly embracing the wood floor.

click.. click.. click.. click.

They stopped, and Wanda dismissed the notion of turning around. She could hear the smooth breaths Agatha took, so close. Wanda's hand clutched her glass, she planted the other on the counter.

Agatha's arms went past Wanda's waist, and she laid her hands over both of Wanda's. The younger woman reveled in the touch, it was the only human contact besides that of talking that she’d had in months. Agatha's body was pressing into her back, and she sighed into the touch. Her awareness of the situation only grew as she felt the woman’s lips brush along the skin of her neck.

The scarlet witch had always felt.. something when it came to her mentor. Her feelings about the woman were uncharted and complicated. She felt both comfort and edge, like she was safe but not secure. And to have her hands on her own, even if not interlinked, it got Wanda’s mind racing, as well as her heart. Heat flushed to her cheeks as she realized that the raveness could probably hear her heart beating.

”𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙞 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙙𝙤 𝙜𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 𝙩𝙤𝙜𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧” Agatha whispered, her voice husky and low. Her lips were close to the redhead’s ears, and a soft moan escaped Wanda's lips. She felt so many things, so much confusion at why the things Agatha said made her want to lean into the woman and let her take control. Whatever great things the brunette had in mind were probably wicked. . but when Wanda turned her head and looked into those brown eyes, she couldn’t say no. She tried, opening her mouth to refuse and tell her to leave, but nothing came from her lips.

This made a smirk run onto Agatha’s face, and she held the eye contact that the redhead initiated. At the notice of the woman's still hanging lip, she softly inched her own lips closer.

The witch had always intimidated those around her, and it was no different with Wanda, except the contact was far more intense, and almost like a battle for dominance. Agatha’s lips brushed against the gingerette's, and Wanda’s head tilted to the side, if they were to kiss, the angle would be perfect. Wanda wanted that, she desired it as she desired the air in her lungs. She closed her eyes, waiting for the embrace, when Agatha softly hummed. The brunette pulled her lips away, and found the dip in Wanda’s neck. A soft, but hot kiss was planted on her neck, and the younger woman’s head leaned back. With a smirk, Agatha took the glass from Wanda's hand, and backed away from the woman.

She took a sip from the glass, winking at her ginger witch.

”Don’t be a fool, Wanda” She playfully remarked, setting down the glass beside the redhead, and retreating from the woman.

Wanda had never been so confused, yet had so much clarity in her life. She didn't want to let Agatha stay, or help with whatever she desired, but those lips, those hands, that voice.. they clouded every piece of rationale in her.

Come tomorrow morning, Wanda Maximoff would team up with Agatha Harkness, and no one would know about the moment they had shared that night.

[calliecwrites]

Pretending

Sometimes pretending to be a person is easy. Sometimes it isn’t. On the bad days, numbers start crawling on the page, straight lines curl, and I’ve got to remind myself to keep my face on. I want to stretch my other limbs, but the world down here is so thin, and so easy to tear. I have to be careful not to think too hard about anything, or it might start seeping through. You have no idea how much power you have, someone told me once, being able to create with a thought. And the children of my mind look too much like madness to humans.

Cases of madness worldwide are 1.3% higher on days like that.

But I don’t want to drive them mad. I’m here to protect them, not devour them. Not this time. So I have to pretend. Though with some of them practically throwing themselves at me, that isn’t always easy.

Writers are the worst. I let my ‘pretending to be a person is hard’ line slip into the coffee I’m nursing while my head pounds with the effort of keeping it all together, and her only response is, “Yeah, I know.”

“‘A writer is a world pretending to be a person’,” she quotes at me, and then, “That’s a deliberate misquote of something Victor Hugo said: ‘A writer is a world trapped in a person’. But I like my version better. If my soul wasn’t in a human-shaped body, sometimes I think I’d turn into a galaxy or something. Or maybe more than that. A multiverse.”

Humans are famously good at detecting things that don’t quite look human. I’m not doing a particularly good job of staying out of the uncanny valley today, but she doesn’t seem to have noticed. Or, worse, she’s noticed and likes it. Writers are like that sometimes. But I’ve been deliberately staying out of her mind. I can tell it’s twisty and complex, and I’m afraid the slightest touch from me would tip her over into madness. Or, who knows, maybe she’s right, and it would trigger her transformation into some kind of eldritch goddess that would put even me to shame. I don’t want to think about what that would do to the paper-thin world down here.

I’ve been so focused on my coffee, I’ve accidentally created another one. She hasn’t noticed.

“I do wonder what being a person is actually like, though,” she goes on. “You know, actually fitting in with all the weird rules humans have. Actually feeling at home here. And most of them only get to live one life, not all the fragments of all the lives we get to. Imagine that. They’ll never know what it’s like, being able to create with a thought.”

That last part hits too close to home, and I can’t resist taking just one quick peek into her mind.

“Oh, hello,” she says, and looks me in the eye.

I withdraw. No way she should have been able to feel that. And what I saw there – she’s practically a multiverse already, all jammed up there somehow into that tiny human brain.

“I always wondered if telepathy’s real,” she’s saying, “and now you’ve gone and proven it. Do that again, so I can see how you did it.”

No way, I’m not risking that – but she fumbles around and somehow does it anyway.

“There you are!” she says. I twitch back into my defences – why does this have to be happening on a day like this, when I’m barely holding it together anyway? The writing on the menu twists and curls, and customers start walking in circles. This time she notices.

“Ooh, eldritch abomination, is it?” she says. “Here, let me try.”

She squints, and now she’s holding another coffee, too. She takes a sip. “Mmm, just like in my dreams.”

Then she’s looking at me. Not just at my rapidly-slipping human disguise, but really looking at me, all the parts that no human should ever be able to see. But I don’t think she’s human anymore – I think she’s been right at that boundary for a while.

“You know, you really should pay more attention to that,” she says. “I find pretending is much easier if I do something like this—” and she does something, and my own human form snaps back into clarity. “There you go. Get those few things right and most people won’t even notice.”

Meanwhile, her own form is becoming more solid. That’s the only way I can describe it. Soon she’ll be so solid that her slightest movement will tear right through reality like tissue paper.

“Be careful,” I say, “you’re new to this, and this world is fragile—”

But it’s too late. She twitches in just the wrong way, and something tears.

Now everything is inverting. Everything that was packed up tightly inside her brain is becoming outside. The whole world is reforming around us, into one she considers home. I’m unaffected, but the humans are being completely rewritten.

“Hmm,” she muses, observing all the worlds at once. “Looks like I was right about myself.”

And she sees my dismayed expression. Avoiding something like this is exactly why I was being so careful down here. So much for that.

“Don’t worry,” she says, and gives me a reassuring pat somewhere in the fourth dimension. “There’s more than enough room in me for everyone.”

I really like that quote she uses, and use it myself. This story came from thinking - what if it was literally true, and not just a metaphor?

Tag list (tell me if you want to be added):

@avery-victoria-winterlight @dierotenixe @leahnardo-da-veggie @lunadook @mint-and-authoress

@sandyca5tle @scrubbinn @theriomythic-lesbian @void-botanist @wuwojiti

@zzzestyy

[citrus-blade]

27

Little Girls (From the Annie [2014] Original Movie Soundtrack) - Cameron Diaz

I found this through TikTok cause so many people use it there lol

AU:

Nightmare was probably the best known Hero in the city, working for the official Hero's headquaters. And he wasn't just the best known, but also the best in general, which meant a lot of work for him. Nightmare - or Dream as his real name was - always worked. The hero association barely gave him a break, his friends always told him they'd work him to death.

But who else was fit to fight against the Blood God, making sure him and his syndicate wouldn't destroy the city. It was on his shoulder to make sure they wouldn't get any data about The End Portal. The portal that would lead you somewhere unknown, a place that is supposed to give you great power.

No one alive ever went through and came back, but they had old books and letters, notes of people who apparently went through and talked about a dragon like beast. They told of cities unreachable and a dark and evil energy.

The heros had to make sure the villains wouldn't ever get there and steal said power. It was to protect everyone and therefore Dream was fine with working himself to death.

Until the day the syndicate had managed to get into the archievs. Not even Dream was allowed into the deeper, more secret part. So when he got there he was shocked to see what the villains had found. Blue prints of a prison to hold villains and heroes?! One known to weaken them and steal their powers and there was a cell for everyone.

There was one for Dream, the most secure one. Blood God had shown him, told him that those heroes were the real monsters who were after the dark power. He had told him to join them, to help them reach their goal. But Dream declined, he was naive enough to believe that there must be an explanation.

Blood God had stared at him in silence before they all fled with the notes. Dream didn't care. When Quackity and Sam came up to him to yell at him he had questioned them. They weren't happy about it, said Dream shouldn't worry. But he did, cause there were cells for not only him but his friends, even for the youngest who had just started training!

Apparently too many questions were ask and Sam - The Warden - started attacking him. They made explosives go off, framing Dream for letting the Syndicate in and attacking the association. Every hero got ordered to hunt him down, to get them to the prison alive.

Dream fled, he had to fight against people he had called his friends, people he had trained and people he had fought side by side. Now they were against him. Heavily injured Dream was able to escape in a storm, using the chaos.

He had knowledge of where the syndicate usually was found, rumors of where to find them when you needed them to do something for you. So Dream went there, bleeding, in pain from the wounds and the betrayal. In a back alley he fell to his knees, wondering if he had gotten wrong information.

But then a shadow fell down on him and in front of him stood the Blood God, pig skull staring down at him. In that moment Dream realized how little his life was worth, that he had given it to the hero association and now he had nothing left, he was a nobody.

With tears in his eyes he started to beg, to plead his greatest enemy to end his life. He didn't want to live in a world where the people he had fought for all his life to be the evil ones. How could he? What was left to live for?

But instead of a sword at his throat, Dream felt a big cloak wrap around him, sheltering him from the rain. In front of him knelt Blood God, his red eyes visible through the holes in the skull. He told him that instead of giving up he should use this desperation - this rage - to help the syndicate.

Dream was asked to join them, a gloved hand held out for him. With only a bit of hesitation Dream accepted, holding the hand that pulled him up back on his feet. Blood God - or Technoblade how Dream would learn in the future - helped the injured man walk.

And just like that the greatest Hero and the greatest Villain joined forces to bring down the real evil.

[literaryavenger]

Thoughtful

Summary: You find something of Bucky's.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avengers!Reader

Warnings: My poor attempts at being funny. No use of Y/N. Just a whole lot of fluff.

Word Count: 1.1K

A/N: This is a dream I had and I couldn't get it out of my head so I decided to write it down. Hope somebody enjoys it!

Masterlist

“Good morning.” you say casually to Bucky sitting at the island as you enter the kitchen.

He merely nods back to acknowledge your presence while sipping his coffee. It’s not like Bucky doesn’t like you, he’s just not a morning person. But the whole team is used to his morning grumpiness.

Also, you and the brunette supersoldier aren’t particularly close, so you don’t really expect bells and whistles when he sees you.

You pour some coffee for yourself and then sit on the kitchen island in front of Bucky. A light jingle coming from under your shirt gets Bucky’s attention and he raises an eyebrow at you.

“What was that?” He asks you, his curiosity getting the better of him.

You frown at his question before following his eyeline and seeing him looking at your chest. But he’s not staring at your boobs through your admittedly thin tank top, he’s looking under them where he can see something resting between the fabric and your skin.

You’re honestly confused at what that is for a moment before you remember and your eyes widen a little as your cheeks start reddening in embarrassment.

Bucky’s confused at your reaction as he watches you take the chain around your neck to bring out the set of dog tags around your neck and Bucky frowns even more.

“I didn’t know you were in the military…” He comments while looking at the tags and then at you, unclear as to why you’d be embarrassed about it.

“I wasn’t…” You say quietly while glancing down at the tags. “They’re kinda… yours.”

Bucky’s even more dumbfounded by your answer. But, after letting your words sink in and deciding he indeed heard you correctly, he couldn’t help the grin that started to grow on his face, much to your surprise.

You thought maybe he’d be mad, although it’s not like you stole them, you simply found them. But still, you were worried what he might think about you wearing them.

“Oh good, I thought I lost them!” He says relieved. “I looked for them everywhere.”

“Well, can I have them back now?” He asks you after a moment of silence and you realize you haven’t even taken them off yet this whole time.

So you quickly do, leaning over the kitchen island and setting them down carefully on his outstretched hand. You watch him put them on, your eyes lingering on the metal on his chest a minute longer than necessary before going back up to his. 

“And why exactly are you wearing my dog tags?” He asks, and right now you wish he’d get mad at you instead. Anything is better than the amusement that’s all over his face at watching you squirm in your seat.

“I found them at the gym… But it’s not like I was planning to keep them.” You quickly justify yourself, your tone entirely too defensive even to your own ears as you blush more. “But you had just left for your mission with Steve and I thought I would just keep them safe until you came back, so I put them on… But I had every intention to give them back, I swear!”

“That’s very thoughtful of you, doll...” He says, his grin turning into a full grown smirk as he points out the obvious. “But I’ve been back for a week, and you were still wearing them.”

“Yeah, I-I guess I got so used to them that I forgot to give them back…” You say quietly, your face turning impossibly red as Bucky seems to be having the time of his life right now.

You groan internally when you see his smirk still going strong at your embarrassment and you decide to cut your losses and not give him more fuel to add to the fire before 9am.

You get up and put your empty cup in the sink. As you turn around you’re startled to find the Sergeant much closer to you than he was before, the kitchen island no longer between you. He doesn’t give you a chance to say anything or even pull away before he’s talking.

“On the other hand…” He takes his dog tags off and reaches out to put them around your neck, making sure to keep his eyes on the metal and not glance at your boobs no matter how much he wants to. “Maybe you could hold onto them for me.”

He looks at the tags on your chest then up to your face before he pulls away completely with a quiet “Beautiful.” and takes a step back, leaving you a flustered mess.

After a minute you remember how to breathe and you glance down at the tags. “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. We wouldn’t want me to lose them again now, would we?” He says with a smile, reaching out to lift your chin gently and making you look at him. “But you’ll keep them safe for me, right doll?”

You nod almost without thinking about it, his eyes putting you in a trance. You’re sure you’d agree to anything right about now, all you can really hear is your own heart pounding anyway.

“Plus, now I can do this…” He lets go of your chin and wraps his hand around the chain of the dog tags. 

He uses his hold on them to pull you closer and your heart skips a beat as he leaves you a soft kiss on your lips. You barely realize what’s happening before he’s pulling away again and you merely look at him with your mouth agape in shock.

Before you can say anything, though, you hear snickers from the door of the kitchen and you both turn towards it just to see the whole team there. All of them have smirks, grins and smiles, everyone delighted at the situation as your face starts getting redder than Tony’s Iron-man suit.

You look back at Bucky and the cheeky bastard is also smirking, clearly much more amused than you at being caught like this.

“Okay, well,” You say while clearing your throat awkwardly and stepping away from Bucky to escape from this situation altogether. “I’m gonna go research the tallest building in New York so I can throw myself off of it.”

Your deadpan reaction leaves everyone laughing as they get away from the door so you can pass.

“Oh, come on, sweetheart, it wasn’t that bad!” Tony yells after you between laughs, obviously sarcastic and you roll your eyes.

“Bite me, Stark!” you yell back, not even tempted to look back as you try to hide a smile of your own while hearing the team’s amusement in the kitchen.

You’re still a little in shock that Bucky kissed you but, once the embarrassment at the team having witnessed it washes away, you can’t wait to follow up on this with Sergeant Grumpy.

Part 2

[sweetkpopmusings]

stray kids soulmate aus | b. chan <3

a/n: i was knocked out by a migraine for days and the main motivation for me to get better was so i could write this au :,-) i love sweet chan and this prompt in particular has been a favorite of mine my whole life !!! i hope you enjoy it <33 pics not mine~

content: fluff, soulmate au | wc: 1.8k | warnings: none really! some mentions of food | pairing: soulmate!chan x gn!reader | requests: open

♡ chan | minho | changbin | hyunjin | jisung | felix | seungmin | jeongin ♡

soulmates meet in dreams every night, but your paths won’t cross in waking life until the time is right.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

whenever chan had a rough day, he would crave sleep more desperately than on his worst insomniac nights. today was one of those days. he couldn’t say that it was a bad day, but they were nearing the end of the tour, so his emotions and physical exhaustion were running high. he rushed through his nighttime routine, aching to fall asleep and see your face. he knew that, even if it were brief, being with you would keep him from completely falling apart.

“it’s about time you showed up!” you teased, grinning at chan when he walked into the living room you two designed.

“i’m really sorry, y/n,” chan sighed, falling onto the sofa, “these last few shows have messed with my sleep schedule more than i expected. i feel so bad that i haven’t been around as much.”

your heart broke when you saw his frown, “chan, i’m not mad. please don’t feel bad. i just miss hanging out with you, and this is the only place i can do it. i’m grateful for any time we get together during your busy schedule!”

“y/n…” chan’s frown turned into an adorable pout, “that makes me feel even more guilty. you can’t be so nice and understanding!”

you laughed when he put his head in his hands. you wrapped him into a hug, appreciating the giggles that escaped his lips at the close contact. 

“i miss you more,” chan mumbled against your clothing.

you shook your head, which, surprisingly, chan noticed, “don’t disagree with me! it’s true!”

chan smiled widely when he saw you laughing. he paused to enjoy the sound of your laughter. then, once your laughs quieted, he held both of your hands in his.

“i promise that i’ll rest a ton once i’m back from tour, okay? i’ll be on break for a while, so i’ll make sure i am at your beck and call every time you sleep. i’ll do everything i can to make it up to you, to make up for the lost time. i swear.”

the combination of his grasp and sincere gaze was almost overwhelming. chan always made promises with his full heart, and you knew that to be especially true right now. 

“i believe you,” you smiled, which prompted chan’s shoulders to relax, “thank you, chan. you don’t have to make it up to me. but you do need to get some more rest. i don’t want to have to scold you to take care of yourself the first time we meet!”

“you’re going to anyway, no matter what i do,” chan teased, laughing hysterically at your glare.  

you moved the conversation into lighter topics, soaking up his presence. though the visit was once again fleeting, you two enjoyed your time together. it was always healing to be with chan. whether you spent your dreams seeing the world or relaxing in a familiar space, you woke up feeling rested, all thanks to spending the night with your other half.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

after chan returned from tour, both of you happily settled into your normal routine. he kept his promise of resting more, much to your delight. rather than having to rush conversations, you could enjoy each other’s company throughout the night, only parting when your alarm went off in the morning. it was easy, natural. of course, there were days when the sunlight hit your eyes and left you feeling empty because that action alone separated you from your person. most days though, you beamed with gratitude because chan was recovering from his strenuous tour and returning to the happy-go-lucky man you knew him to be. 

last night’s dream was particularly wonderful. you and chan strolled around your favorite neighborhood while he told you all his favorite stories from tour. your heart always soared when you listened to the way he talked about seeing stays and joked about the antics he and the boys got up to while traveling. truly, the best part of it all was seeing him happy. the sparkle in his eyes and the upbeat tone of his voice were like a rush of sugar, the sweetest thing in the world. you confessed this to chan when a comfortable silence fell over you, and the last thing you heard before waking up was the sound of him giggling, highlighted by chan’s blushing skin.

perhaps it was chan’s sweetness that had you craving a treat as soon as you opened your eyes. stretching and soaking in the peacefulness of the late morning, you decided to go to your favorite bakery. it was the weekend, after all, and you wanted to do everything you could to maintain the happy mood chan put you in. after getting ready, you made your way to the bakery. the familiar route allowed your mind to wander, unsurprisingly to thoughts of your sweet soulmate.

the first dream you shared with chan was when you were six years old. you swung back and forth on the swingset in a quiet playground, covered nicely by the shade of a large tree. from beside you, a voice you had never heard before asked can i swing here too? you looked over, curious and unalarmed. when you saw the boy with curly brown hair smile shyly at you, you felt the tiniest of butterflies flutter in your stomach. you nodded, introducing yourself when he sat down on the swing next to you, i’m y/n. what’s your name? he grew more confident after hearing your voice, grinning charmingly as he said, i’m chan. it’s nice to meet you, y/n. you two watched the clouds float by, calling out the shapes you saw. in your childhood innocence and bravery, you suddenly asked, are you my soulmate? even as an adult, you could never forget the way chan’s ears turned bright red. how heartwarming it was for him to blush at the word “soulmate!” you didn’t need to hear him say yes, because the pink on his cheeks and the hopefulness in his eyes told you everything you needed to know. you wondered, heart pounding in your chest, if he’d look at you like that the first time he saw you in the real world.

the sound of the bakery door’s bell ringing snapped you out of your reverie. you inhaled the decadent smells of the shop, fresh baked warmth fit for a saturday. your lovestruck thoughts of chan could wait. you had business to attend to. 

you greeted the employees, browsing the items on display. you took your time, selected your treats, and paid at the register. the place wasn’t too full, so you figured you could take a seat at a table near the window to appreciate the cozy ambience for a bit. you scanned for the closest empty table, nearly falling over when you locked eyes with someone.

well, not just someone. chan.

your mouth opened, but you couldn’t produce anything more than a few stammering syllables. chan’s eyes were wide with shock, quickly twinkling with happiness. soon, he started laughing. the sound bubbled out of him as though he were a child set free in a candy store, delighted beyond belief. you started laughing too. before people started to stare, chan waved you over to his table, pulling out a seat just for you.

“fancy seeing you here,” chan giggled through the cheesy line.

you rolled your eyes, smile never leaving your face, “don’t get me wrong. it is absolutely the best surprise in the world to see you here right now. but how does drinking a large coffee count as resting?”

chan lifted the coffee cup between you two, “oh this? i only got this because i couldn’t find a nap buddy anywhere. it looks like my luck might have changed though.”

he winked, making you blush and giggle like a teenager. not wanting to let him have all the fun, you grinned and replied, “i guess my first official duty as your soulmate is getting you to take a nap, isn’t it?”

now it was chan’s turn to blush. your body flooded with fondness, seeing the way his ears turned bright red at the word soulmate as it had when he first heard you say it. chan accepted your order when they called out your name, excitedly commenting on how good your taste was. the pep in his step was visible, though anyone who saw you would say that your pace matched his exactly. you two practically skipped the whole way back to your place, conversation flowing as though seeing each other was your plan all along. 

“can we take a second to talk about how crazy this is? that we finally met? after all these years, we’ve been only a handful of miles away from each other, and we met today?”

chan’s expression was full of glee and disbelief, and you agreed with his sentiment fully, “they really aren’t lying when they say you won’t meet until the time is right,” you paused, reminding yourself that this moment was real, “i do think it’s ridiculous we’ve practically been neighbors this whole time though. no wonder it always felt strange when you were on tour.”

chan pouted, “don’t remind me…that’ll make me feel even worse about leaving…” then, a smile replaced his pout, “at least now we know that every time i come back from traveling, i’ll be coming home to you!”

you returned his smile, only looking away to unlock your door. you slipped off your shoes and made room for chan to come inside. while you’ve dreamt of chan your whole life, nothing was more surreal than seeing him in your home. he looked so much like he belonged there, as though he had been inhabiting the space for as long as you. yet you stood there, staring, unable to believe that your dream had finally come true.

“what are you staring at, mon rêve?” chan asked, smiling sweetly.

“it’s just…” you walked across the room, meeting him halfway, “i can’t believe you’re here.”

chan hummed in agreement. without another word, he intertwined your hands, looking at you intently. you led him to your favorite nap spot, adjusting it so everything was just right. instinctively, your bodies molded together, finding comfort in the shared embrace. mere seconds after thank you left chan’s lips, you both slipped into sleep, breaths falling into your natural harmony.

you weren’t sure how much time had passed when you opened your eyes. it was strange, almost unnerving, to wake up from a dream that did not include chan. before the panic or sadness could settle in, you looked over to the man in your arms. you stared in awe at his lips curling up ever so slightly, his hair in disarray, and his chest rising to the beat of the precious heart you belonged to. every little detail of chan was at your fingertips, and it was more beautiful than any dream you had ever had.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

[gay-dorito-dust]

Giving Bill Cipher the princess treatment prompt or hc's? (Bill totally isn't threatening Reader's entire family if they don't princess carry him and call him babygirl) I love how you write Bill by the way!

Warning: unhealthy relationship stuff and threats from bill.

After everything that went down with sixer and his supposed ‘betrayal’ bill didn’t think he’d find an another puppet companion so soon until one day he came across poor unfortunate you.

Some half baked sob stories of his origins and looking through his fingers at you to make sure you were feeling sympathy for him later, and you were effectively under his thumb by the end of the week. The quickest he’s ever manipulated someone into feeling sorry for him yet!

Now you were stuck forced to carry him in your arms whenever he wished and calling him…baby girl…why you never bothered to ask as whenever you did raise things into question with Bill it usual turns out something like this:

You: don’t you think that’s a little extreme?

Bill: and here I thought you were suppose to be supportive of my dreams and aspirations. Oh well I guess you didn’t need your family that much if you’re quick to question me-

You: No! It’s a brilliant plan! No flaws at all! You’re so smart…baby girl…

Bill: *smirks when you fall back in line* good now I demand to be carried in your arms *he gives you grabby hands*

You: *sigh* yes baby girl *proceeds to pick him up and carry him for the rest of the day*

You’d even have to call Bill baby girl when your mad unless you wanted the corpses of your family to be piled up on your front door!

It was ridiculous but what could you do when stuck in a less than ideal relationship with a demonic triangle who could bring you to heel with a simple click of his fingers? You were doomed to be his servant for the sake of your family and even if you did go to anyone about it, who’d believe you? You’d be the new old man Mcgucket for certain.

So you only sigh and do whatever Bill wanted in hopes it will satisfy him enough to leave your family alone, even if it was brief.

The worst case scenario would be If bill saw that you weren’t being enthusiastic in your affection towards him, then that would be a harder thing to dig your way out of. It didn’t matter whether you were tired mentally or physically, if Bill wanted to be carried in your arms he will want you to do so with a complicit smile on your face.

Bill: you don’t look happy to be carrying me? *squints his eye*

You: *quickly puts on a fake smile* what?! I’m more than happy to carry my baby girl! It’s the only highlight of my day, nothing could ever compete with spending time with my baby girl!

Bill: good! For a second there I thought you’d have to be attending a family members funeral for a moment. Haha guess I must’ve been seeing things, right? *he stares uncomfortably at you*

You: yeah because how could I ever show you any other emotion other than happiness and love. *internally dying*

Bill: also don’t over compliment me, it makes you look clingy and I don’t like clingy.

You internally: as if you aren’t clingy yourself you fucking discarded sentient Dorito chip.

It’s better to keep playing his game until he inevitably grows bored of you, and god forbid if you ever encounter Stanford Pines ever, your family is certain for destruction if Bill caught you talking to his traitorous ex partner. (Potential for Stanford x reader?)

Needles to say if you were to ever be granted the ability to time travel, you’d go back and warn yourself to not trust Bill Cipher, not if you want your family’s blood on your hands just because you didn’t call him Babygirl first thing in the morning.

You: morning bi-

Bill: whichever family member your love the most will die in 5 seconds if you don’t correct yourself sweetie.

You: morning babygirl, what should we do today?

Bill: *pats you on the shoulder* that wasn’t so hard was it? And I don’t feel like doing anything that requires me to part from you for suspicious periods of time incase you do something I don’t like. *stares at you menacingly*

You: good choice! All day with my babygirl? I’m so lucky…so extremely….lucky. *looks over at the photo of your family and friends* blessed even…

Bill: you sure are! Now why don’t you carry me! *grabby hands 2.0*

[scarletsknight]

f*ck me like you’re famous

wc: 3.3k

pairing: eddie x fem!reader

synopsis: the man everyone wants only wants you 

cw: 18+ mdni!!, rockstar!eddie, non canon au, smut, use of marijuana, mentions of alcohol consumption, established relationship, pet names, teasing, eddie's rings (y’all alr know), choking, fingering, oral sex (giving/receiving), orgasm denial, praising, hair pulling, reader has an oral fixation (lowkey), multiple orgasms, mirror sex (not really but kinda), lil bit of possessiveness, overuse of the word fuck, marking, sex while under the influence, unprotected sex, aftercare, fluff?

a/n: this has been sitting in my drafts since my first acc got snipped and just never reposted 😭 but i lowkey wanna get back into writing for this account. pls don’t come for me if i don’t follow through tho life is just fucking crazy rn but i miss this blog and i miss you guys so i’ll try. but until then i hope y’all enjoy this!! 🫶🏽

Eddie wasn't expecting much difference when Corroded Coffin started playing at the Hideout on Fridays instead of Tuesdays. But the crowd more than quadrupled in size, and it seemed to keep growing every week they came back. 

In the middle of one of their songs, Eddie spotted you not too far from the small stage.

You had been fixated on the band's lead guitarist since you got here, barely taking your eyes from him as he expertly moved his fingers over the strings of his instrument. 

This is what Eddie's always wanted; playing for an actual crowd of people and not just five drunks. But now, as he hears the cheers and sees everyone headbanging along to the music, a dream he's had for so long, all he can do is focus on you. 

After their set was over, Eddie was surprisingly quick to start loading their things into his van.

Eddie was getting no help from his bandmates as they were distracted by the group of girls that had come up and started talking to them. One of them even tried flirting with Eddie, but he quickly excuses himself once he finds you again, smoking.

He weaves his way past the people crowding the alleyway behind the bar, walking through clouds of smoke.

With your back turned to him, you didn't see him coming as you were in the middle of a conversation with your friends, passing a joint around. 

Eddie's eyes slowly drank you in as he approached you.

To say you look good would be an understatement. Not that Eddie would ever think otherwise, but it was something about the fitting leather pants you were wearing that he was slowly growing obsessed with. 

You feel two hands on your hips, and your back meets his chest. Eddie snakes his arms around you. 

Resting your head against Eddie's shoulder, you turn your head to face him. 

"My love," you lazily grin at him. 

"Hi, angel," Eddie cupped your jaw and brought your lips to his. He could taste the faint traces of alcohol on your tongue and the smoke your lips still tasted of. 

The friends you arrived with all commended Eddie and his band for their performance before you added onto the praises.

"You guys were fucking amazing," you tell him. 

"You really think so?" he asks. 

You turn your body toward him, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

"Yeah, of course," you nod, "And I could tell your little groupies thought so too," you said. 

Eddie scoffed, "Groupies? I don't have groupies."

"I beg to differ," you say. Eddie follows your eyes, looking at the same girl from earlier, watching you and Eddie, seeming a little mad that someone else has their hands all over him. But you don't give a shit; Eddie was yours first. 

"You jealous?" he teases.

"Never. You're so fucking hot," you tangle your fingers in his hair pulling him closer as if there was any space left between you, "And I don't know, I kinda loved watching everyone go crazy over you, knowing you're gonna fuck my brains out later."

Eddie backed you up against the side of your friend's car, deepening the kiss as he held your face. 

"Keep talking and looking at me like that, I'll take you right here," he threatens, and you laugh. 

Eddie slid his leg between yours, making you hum against his lips, and you felt his thighs come into contact with your core. 

"Eddie," you murmur. From the look in your eyes, he could already tell what you were thinking. 

"Wanna get out of here?" 

"Do you really have to ask?" you smirk.

You bid your friends goodbye, Eddie thanking all of them for coming and letting them know when and where Corroded Coffin is playing next. Walking to his van, hand in hand, Eddie opens the passenger side door for you after you said your byes to the rest of the band. 

Eddie kept one hand on the wheel while the other rested on your thigh. Briefly looking over at you, Eddie feels his chest swell. He watches you roll a joint for him, not wanting to waste any time once you get home, and he couldn't be more in love.

Watching your face twist up in concentration as you wrap the paper around the bud, using the skills he taught you, only made something stir inside Eddie. His hand on your leg started inching higher and higher, firmly squeezing your thigh. 

"Babe, don't start. I'm tryna concentrate," you said, rolling the paper between your fingers. 

"Can't help it when you're the hottest girlfriend on the planet," he grins. 

You glance over at him out of the corner of your eye. "Just shut up and keep your eyes on the road, Munson," you said. 

But Eddie didn't miss the smile that stretched across your face from his words. 

Once Eddie was parked, he hopped out of the van with the freshly rolled joint between his lips, still unlit. He was humming one of Corroded Coffin's songs as he waited for you with his held hand out for you to take as you got out of the van. 

Knowing the whole place was empty, Eddie loudly sang as the two of you slow danced into his trailer. Eddie, dramatically swaying and spinning you around, had giggles spilling from your mouth as you made your way to his room. 

Taking off his shoes and jacket, Eddie swipes a lighter from his desk before sitting at the edge of his bed and sparking the joint. 

Eddie hummed delightedly as thick clouds of smoke entered his lungs. He fell back onto his bed, staring up at his ceiling, taking another drag. 

Having gotten distracted by your boyfriend's immense music collection, not knowing what to put on, you finally make your way over to him. 

Eddie feels the bed sink on either side of his legs as you climb on top of him. He rests one hand on your hip while he smokes with the other. 

You pluck the joint out of his mouth, bringing the filter to your lips and taking a hit for yourself. 

Both his hands are on you now, moving up to your waist. You readjust yourself in his lap, and you hear Eddie sigh. You start subtly dragging your hips against his as you expel the smoke through your nose.

Eddie looked up at you like you were a goddess he was more than ready to worship. 

"God, you're so fucking perfect," Eddie said, "And all mine." 

You would've clenched your thighs together if Eddie's body wasn't between them. You leaned down, grabbing Eddie's jaw and bringing his lips closer to yours. Eddie parted his lips as you blew the smoke into his mouth. 

"And you're mine," you whisper, kissing his face. 

You both sit up, your lips still connected to his. 

"You know that I love you," he stared up at you, his big brown eyes drowning in adoration for you.

"I know," you lean your forehead against his, "I love you too," you tell him before pressing your lips to his.

"Ever since high school. The moment you walked into O'Donnell's class 30 minutes late wearing that goddamn skirt," Eddie slides his hands up your thighs.

You hum into his mouth, kissing him deeply.

"Just promise you won't forget me when you guys become famous," you joke.

"I would never," he says, "You think I'm crazy enough to give this pussy up."

"I hate you," you giggle against his lips.

"Didn't you just say you love me?"

"Yeah, well I change my mind and take it back," you teasingly say, getting out of his lap.

You turn your back to him, but Eddie doesn't let you get too far before he's on his feet too, wrapping his arms around you. Laughs spill from your lips as he holds you against his chest, burying his face into your neck.

"Tell me you love me," he said lowly in your ear, the raspiness of his voice causing slick to pool between your legs.

"No," you said like a moody child.

"Come on, sweetheart, just tell me."

Eddie's fingers found the buttons on your pants, starting to undo them. You wiggle your hips a little assisting Eddie in getting the leather down your legs. He slipped one of his hands between your thighs, stroking your clothed heat.

If Eddie's arm wasn't wrapped around your middle, your knees would've buckled. Between being high and having been incredibly horny for your boyfriend all night, you were extremely sensitive to his touch.

"Let me hear it," he rasps in your ear.

"Eddie," you let your head fall back against his shoulder.

"Mhm?" he hums into your neck.

"I-" the words die on your tongue when he slips his hand into your underwear.

You whimper, feeling the cool metal of his rings against your warm skin. He runs his fingers through your folds, letting your slick coat his digits, purposely neglecting your clit.

"All this for a man you hate?" he scoffs.

You whine, squirming in his arms, trying to move your hips against his hand. But Eddie's strength doesn't allow for it.

"Tell me you love me and I'll give you anything, baby."

You quickly drop the act, falling deeper into this headspace, desperate for Eddie to do anything.

"I love you, Eddie."

"See? That wasn't so hard, now, was it."

He kisses your cheek, starting to rub small circles on your clit. You practically melt against his body, and he falls back onto his bed with you between his legs. You turn your head to capture Eddie's lips in a kiss. At the same time, you're lifting your hips and pulling your underwear off, carelessly letting the piece of fabric hang from your ankle.

Eddie grabs your thighs, keeping them apart. He brings his hand back down to your pussy, lazily playing with your clit.

"Look at you, baby," you follow Eddie's eyes to the mirror by his bed. The sight of you between his legs as he toyed with your clit should've flooded you with embarrassment, but you were already too far gone to care. "So fucking beautiful." he kissed your temple.

"Eds," you start squirming.

"Yeah, sweetheart?"

"Please," you grabbed his wrist, directing his hand where you really needed him.

"So so wet," the tip of his finger teasingly circled your hole before slipping inside you, "And so fucking tight." he then added a second.

You braced yourself with your hands on Eddie's thighs, your nails scratching the denim of his jeans.

"That feel good, baby?"

"Y-Yes. So good."

Eddie pressed his lips to yours as he found a steady rhythm for his fingers. He pushes his tongue into your mouth, and you moan around the wet muscle as he curls his fingers against your soft walls.

"Oh god, Eddie—please," you tell him.

Your legs threatened to close around his hand before he pulled them apart with his other hand. The same hand trails up your body, cupping your boob over your shirt, feeling your perky nipple beneath the material since you opted for no bra tonight. He tweaked the sensitive nub between his fingers, causing you to gasp and your pussy to flutter around his fingers.

"Fuck-m'gonna cum."

"Yeah? you wanna cum all over my fingers, pretty girl?"

"Yes! please please l-"

You let out a broken cry, feeling your orgasm being so abruptly ripped away. You heard Eddie laugh as your hips tried to chase his hand before he left you untouched.

"That's what you get for acting like a brat," he said.

That teasing little fucker.

Turning yourself around to face him, Eddie sees the pout on your face before it's taken over by a smirk.

"I'm sorry, baby," you slowly let your fingers trail down his chest, "let me make it up to you," you fluttered your lashes at him.

Eddie grinned as your hand reached the front of his jeans, palming his semi hard on through his clothes.

He pulled his shirt over his head, flinging it somewhere in the room. You quickly undo his jeans, slipping your hand inside his boxers and beginning to stroke his length.

"Fuck, princess," Eddie groans when you squeeze your fist around him.

You started pulling his jeans off along with his underwear, and Eddie kicked them off his legs the rest of the way. You positioned yourself between his legs, circling your thumb around the tip, smearing the beads of precum all over his cock.

You look up at him through your lashes before you take him into your mouth. You start slow, only sucking on the head, letting the salty precum land on your tongue while you wrap your hand around the base of his cock.

"That's it, sweetheart. Just like that," Eddie sighs, stroking the back of your head as you take more of him into your mouth.

Whether it was your high or just your infatuation with this man, you couldn't get enough of the feeling of Eddie in your mouth. The weight of his cock on your tongue and his breathy moans were enough to have you pressing your thighs together.

You run your tongue along the underside of his cock, coating his length in your saliva. Eddie ran a hand through his hair, brushing his bangs out of his eyes as if he didn't want to miss a thing. Even with tears in your eyes and spit pooling out of the corners of your mouth, Eddie still couldn't take his eyes off you. 

The muscles in Eddie's stomach contracted as he started to roll his hips against your face. You slowly started taking more of him into your mouth, focusing on breathing through your nose as you relax your throat for Eddie. You didn't care about the limits of your gag reflex, taking Eddie's dick deeper down your throat.

Eddie tangled his fingers in your hair, pulling you off him. You whine, not just from the pleasurable pain throbbing from your scalp but the loss of his cock in your mouth.

"Shit, you almost made me cum," he said, shallowly breathing.

"So why didn't you?" you ask, ready to slide him back into your mouth.

Eddie's hold on your hair tightens as he holds you where he wants you.

He smiles as you weakly moan, "Cause as much as I love watching you take me down that pretty little throat of yours, I really need to fuck you."

You moan again, but this time at his words. 

"Please fuck me, Eddie," you didn't care how desperate you sounded. "Please."

"I know, angel, I know."

Once every piece of clothing was discarded, your teeth clashed with his in a heated kiss. He pushed his tongue into your mouth, easily dominating the kiss. Your head met the pillows as Eddie's laid you down. He took his place between your legs, looking down at you. 

Your eyes travel down Eddie's body, studying the ink littered all over his skin like you haven't hundreds of times before.

The muscles in his arm flexed as he pumped his cock in his hand, and you wanted desperately to squeeze your thighs together. 

"How bad do you want it?"

"I want you so fucking badly, Eddie. Been thinking about having you all night. It was hard not thinking about getting up on that stage and letting you have your way with me in front of everyone, so they know who you belong to."

Eddie raises an eyebrow at you before you shrug.

"I told you, not jealous. Maybe just a little possessive."

"That's even hotter," Eddie tells you, "You're mine just as much as I'm yours," you felt his cockhead nudging into your entrance. 

"Yours...Mine," you moan out the word as he slides into you.

You thought the feeling of Eddie inside of you, filling you up, would make you delirious. 

"Fuck, baby, you feel so good."

"Eddie~" 

Eddie started moving slowly, only rocking his hips into yours steadily. 

Eddie knew you as well as the back of his hand. From every movement you make to the noises that spill from your lips, it's like he could tell what you wanted without vocalizing it.

He circled his arms under your legs, your calves resting on his shoulders. 

"Yes—my fucking god, Eddie," you buried your head into the pillows. 

You reach out to him, your nails leaving crescent-shaped indents in his skin as he folds you over, pressing your knees to your chest. Eddie's cock deliciously stretched your walls, feeling him so deep you were sure he was in your guts. 

Eddie dropped your legs from his shoulders to kiss you. He swallowed your moans, sucking your bottom lip between his teeth. 

"You're so fucking wet," he groans against your lips. 

"You feel so good," you whimper. 

Sitting back on his haunches, he spreads your legs wider, mesmerized by the way his cock disappears inside you. 

His cock twitches against your soft walls, seeing you fucked out beneath him. Your tits bounce with every one of his movements. Goosebumps rose on your skin from his rings as he slid his hand up your torso. He didn't miss the chance to tease you, rolling and pinching one of your nipples between his fingers. 

You grab Eddie's wrist, silently telling him what you want as you bring his hand to your neck. Eddie wraps his fingers around your throat, applying pressure to the sides, sure to not crush your windpipe. 

Your eyes rolled back, and Eddie could feel your pussy pulsing around him. Feeling the stainless steel digging into your skin added to the euphoria coursing through your veins. 

Eddie saw the smile etched onto your face as he pounded into you and thought he couldn't be more in love. 

"Shit, angel, I don't know if I'm gonna last any longer."

"Please don't stop. I'm so close."

"You gonna cum for me, sweetheart?"

"Yes...Please, Eddie." 

"I want you to cum with me," Eddie's hand finds its way between you, rubbing uncoordinated circles on your clit. 

All you could do was weakly nod at him. 

The music was barely heard over the sounds of your moans and heavy breaths with the obscene squelching coming from where your bodies connected. You blink your eyes to refocus on the man above you. Eddie's messy hair clung to his forehead and neck from the thin layer of sweat covering his skin. The guitar pick he has on the small chain around his neck dangles above your face, and you slightly tug on it to bring him back down and meet his lips with yours. 

"I fucking love you," you said to Eddie as you came. 

Eddie couldn't hold off any longer, cumming after you said those words to him. His cum painted your walls white, slowly thrusting into you as your pussy milked his cock. 

"Fuck, I love you too," he mumbled into your mouth. 

You lazily made out, the both of you taking your time to come down from your highs. 

Eddie finally moved from between your legs, and you could already feel his cum start to spill out of you.

"Don't move," he tells you. 

"Like I have a choice. Unless you want another addition to the collection of stains."

"Like you aren't responsible for half the stains on this bed."

You gasp dramatically, "And whose fault is that!?"

Eddie laughed, picking up his boxers from the pile of clothes on the floor before leaving the room. He came back shortly with a damp washcloth and took his place back between your legs. 

You saw Eddie lick his lips as he stared at your pussy, messy with his cum. 

"Baby, the sheets," you remind him.

"Right," he snapped out of his thoughts, "It's kinda hot, though," he said with a smirk, wiping your sticky skin. 

"You're so gross," you shake your head. 

"But you love it," he grins.

a/n: feedback is appreciated!! thank you for reading <33

[ozai-the-bonsai]

Like Lovers Do

| Part 1 | Part 2 |

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x fem!reader

Summary: You and Daemon would dream about marrying each other before both of you became victims of political marriages, very much against your wills: he was sent to the Vale and you to the Riverlands. However, when your lord husband passes away, you return to King’s Landing, only to find out that your childhood sweetheart is now wearing a crown of his own.

A/N: I am finally back for the Daemon x reader fics, you lovely people! I hope you still remember me after that loooooooooong gap... Anyways, I once again wrote too much and couldn't even get to the point I was heading - I intended this story to be a one-shot but it seems I will be writing another chapter for the spicy stuff ;) I hope you enjoy it! (I am also open to any Daemon requests you might have for me!)

Warnings: I am not a native English speaker, strong language

Taglist: @throughgoeshamilton @mirandastuckinthe80s @xicesam @mariamyousef702 @eddiemadmunson @dont-try-pesticide @sweetybuzz25 @hc-geralt-23 @schniiipsel @ttae-yong @syrma-sensei @asiludida164 @kaitieskidmore1 @irmavanity-blog @pax-2735 @trickrtreatart @shanzeyxsyed @random-human02 @scarwicht @xcallmetaniax @instabull @niiight-dreamerrrr @my-dark-prince @stargaryenx @abaker74 @babywolff @sonnensplitter @bi-narystars @softtina

You had almost forgotten the way his voice sounded.

Fourteen long years had it been, the last time you were given the privilege to let your eyes wander on his handsome face as long as they desired.

You had expected time to have changed you in all the possible ways anyone could ever imagine, the years you had spent at the Riverlands being no different than a bird in a cage did harden you to your very core; however, the moment his sweet voice reached your ears again, you felt yourself melting just as you did when you were six-and-ten.

For the first time in fourteen years; for the first time after you had left King's Landing, you were feeling the warmth in your heart again, waking up from its deep slumber, melting the frost that used to be your heart.

At first, you hadn't even believed it when you heard the whispers roaming the castle about the return of the Rogue Prince.

"Prince Daemon is back," the whispers had said, "and he is wearing a crown."

King of the Narrow Sea? You had thought to yourself, following the crowds into the Throne Room. Is he going to challenge his brother now? Have the years turned him completely mad?

And now, you were watching him, King of the Narrow Sea, give up his crown to King Viserys.

He really is back.

After the ceremony in the Throne Room was over, the Royals and the Small Council moved to the Godswood to celebrate the Prince's victory over the Triarchy. You weren't quite sure whether it was expected of you to join them; however, upon seeing the way your father looked at you, you decided to follow them. Your heart was racing as if it was trying to break free from your chest.

Your father's position in King Jaehaerys’ and after him King Viserys’ Small Council had allowed you an easy, enjoyable life within the walls of the Red Keep, allowing you to share the early years of your youth with Prince Daemon, growing up alongside him.

Until he decided it was time for you to marry a rich lord and be shipped to the Riverlands, of course. You had known long before your father made his decision that you would, sooner or later, have to marry someone - preferably some lord from one of the Great Houses.

However, you had expected your father to come to you with this delicate matter first, instead of shaking hands with the lords as if he was doing some kind of trade.

"I do not care about some stupid lord in the Riverlands," you had told your father upon hearing the terrible news about your future. "I am going to marry Prince Daemon, Father. How can you even begin to compare him with any other man in the Seven Kingdoms?"

"Prince Daemon is going to the Vale," your father had responded in a cold voice. It made you realize he had wished for you to become the Prince's wife perhaps even more than you yourself had. "It has been decided that he is to take Lady Rhea Royce as his wife." Upon seeing the tears beginning to form in your eyes, your father had held your hands. "I am sorry, my sweet girl, but there is no other way."

Even though you had known all these years, deep down, that your father's only wish was for you to have an easy, wealthy life (and at the meanwhile keeping his good connections, and establishing relations with the strong houses), the anger you had been feeling never really faded away.

Yes, you had led a wealthy life for the last fourteen years; however, being the second wife of a (compared to your six-and-ten self) fairly old lord had taken all the happiness you had ever known from you. It was almost as if you had forgotten how to enjoy life...

After arriving at the Godswood - since the Red Keep was enormous, it always took ages to get from one place to another - you too poured yourself a glass of red wine as you stood beside your father. King Viserys and some other members of the Small Council were talking with Prince Daemon, mostly about the war against the Triarchy.

Somehow, it seemed like Daemon didn't even notice you were there, maybe he didn't really recognise you after all those years - you couldn't say.

Until King Viserys saw you standing next to your father, the Master of Coins.

The King's face lightened with a bright smile as he turned his eyes to his younger brother, placing his left hand on Daemon's shoulder. "Brother, you surely remember Lord Beesbury's lovely daughter," the King spoke with a delightful tone. "She has, too, recently returned to King's Landing."

The world froze around the two of you when Daemon's purple eyes met yours. Every other person standing there with you faded away, and all the other sounds melted into silence until it was just you and him, the same memory playing in front of your eyes.

"I am going to make you my Queen one day," Daemon whispered in your ear. "I promise you."

You were out at the Godswood, sitting under the moonlight - both of you had to be around sixteen, it was shortly before the calamity that was your marriage.

You raised an eyebrow in his direction. "So you plan on winning me and the Iron Throne?" You asked him, only to earn a cocky smirk.

"You would be surprised to see what I am capable of, my Lady."

I have seen what you are capable of, my Prince, you thought as you came back to reality. You were breathing heavily. Capable of winning a war without the support of the Crown, earning your very own crown - but you still gave it up to your brother.

To prevent the awkward silence from getting any longer, Daemon quickly wore his famous smirk as he nodded at the King. "Of course, how could I not," he spoke with a charming aura surrounding him. Taking a step towards you, the Prince held your right hand gently and brought it to his lips. "It has been many years, my Lady." The Prince told you. "Though, it is somewhat unfair that the years have not touched your beauty, not in the slightest."

The poker face, which only showed a humble smile fitting of a lady of your position, would never give away that you were, in fact, dying inside. Feeling his lips and his touch for the very first time in fourteen years had hit you like a wall of bricks.

"You flatter me, my Prince," you spoke with your best I-am-a-noble-lady tone. "Congratulations on your victory."

Before continuing the conversation with his brother and the other Lords, Daemon gave you a small nod - only you realised that he had allowed his eyes to linger on your face longer than they needed to.

[Time Skip}

"I wasn't expecting to see you here again, after all those years."

Hearing his velvet voice, you raised your head to look at Daemon, who was standing to your right. Fixing your silver dress and crossing one leg over the other, you waited for him to continue speaking.

"Why aren't you at the Rivenlands?"

You raised an eyebrow at the Prince as you responded while mimicking the same cocky tone he always used. "Why haven't you been at the Vale all those years?"

The edge of Daemon's lips curled upwards as he shook his head, he was wearing a red, long-armed tunic under his long, black cloak - proudly carrying the colours of his House. "Your attitude hasn't changed even in the slightest, love."

You rolled your eyes at him, keeping your attitude, not letting it falter under the heavy weight of the love your heart still carried for him. Of course, it would have been a lot easier to give into your heart's whispers and welcome him with arms wide open; however, you had grown overmuch furious with him over the years.

First and foremost, he had broken off every damn contact with you at an instant as soon as you had left King's Landing. You haven't heard from Daemon for fourteen years. News and gossip about his doings had reached your ears, of course, but not from Daemon himself.

And second, it had hurt you too fucking much when you saw he had done nothing to fight for your love. As the Prince, he could have had more of a say in the matter than you, but all he had done was tell you goodbye and disappear into the night. That was the last you had seen of him, fourteen years ago.

At first, you had thought that perhaps, Daemon had found the idea of marrying Lady Rhea Royce more appealing than marrying you. Until the news had reached the Riverlands about the Rogue Prince's failed marriage - not long after, he had returned to King's Landing, never to visit the Vale ever again.

Rhea Royce had never been what Daemon desired, and apparently, you too - else, he would have at least tried to find a way to arrange something, anything.

Placing your hands on your lap, you asked. "Can I be of further assistance to you, my Prince?"

"You can start by providing me with an answer, my Lady," Daemon said, arching an eyebrow in your direction. "Why did you return to King's Landing? Has your lord husband got a place in the Small Council now?"

"He has passed away," you spoke with a low voice while playing with your fingers. "A few months ago."

The Prince licked his lower lip. "I would wish to offer you my condolences, love," he spoke, "but I have never liked the sight of that cunt."

Your eyes widened with shock upon hearing his words, you hissed between your teeth. "Seven hells, Daemon!" The Prince shrugged in a careless manner. "Show at least some respect to the dead!"

"Will you be staying here?" he asked, earning a nod from you. "Why not stay at the Riverlands?"

This time, you turned your eyes away - his intense gaze was making you feel dizzy. "There is nothing for me there, at the Riverlands. My late husband's eldest nephew holds the Lord title now." Taking a deep breath, you leaned forward to pour yourself some wine. "You see, we didn't have any children to inherit my late husband's position, hence there was no more need for me."

Upon feeling Daemon's hand closing on top of yours, you quickly raised your head to look at him. Gently, the Prince took the carafe from your hands to pour you a glass of wine. With slow movements, he handed you the glass.

"I thought the whole idea behind you marrying that old man was to provide him with heirs," Daemon spoke, his purple eyes lighting with curiosity. He didn't even explicitly ask about the reason behind the failure but you could easily read it from the way he looked.

"We did try, for years, but..." Taking a moment, you took a big sip from your wine. "He could have tried with a dozen other women for another ten years and it still wouldn't have changed anything."

Daemon pursed his lips upon understanding the meaning behind your words. "I see, this explains why he didn't have any heirs from his first marriage, too." You nodded. "Good riddance, should I say now? At least you are free from that burden of yours."

"As if you cared about me or my burden," you snorted. Upon seeing the confused look inside his eyes, you first drank your half-empty glass - all at once - and then stood up. Raising your head, you looked Daemon in the eye, your faces standing dangerously close to each other. "It has been fourteen fucking years, Daemon," you spoke with a low voice but still, your fury could be heard in every word. "And not one fucking raven from you. You just walked away from my life, as if I meant nothing to you!"

Towards the end, your tone tended to become higher, thus you took a deep breath to keep yourself under control. From the corner of your eye, you could see Queen Alicent and your father taking a curious look in your direction.

With his left hand, Daemon held you firmly on your right wrist as he whispered, looking down at you. "You meant everything to me," he put emphasis on each word. "Don't you dare act as if you don't know it."

Your chest brushed against his with every breath, you could feel the warmth radiating off his body. At that very moment, the only thing you wanted was for Daemon to push you against the stone wall behind you and kiss you until you couldn't remember your own name anymore.

With slow movements, Daemon leaned into your ear, his warm breath brushing against your neck. You didn't even realise you were pressing your lips against each other - your breaths were heavy, your head felt dizzy and you slowly got drunk with his smell surrounding you.

"Do you have any idea," the Prince whispered in your ear, his voice full of sex appeal. You could melt right then and there, inside his arms. "How many nights I have spent, thinking about you?"

Back then, when you were both young and in love, Daemon had never touched you other than sharing small kisses (and rarely not-so-small kisses) for you wanted to wait until marriage.

In retrospect, you believed your younger self to have been too naive and, well, young - after seeing one could in fact do whatever they desired as long as it was discrete enough.

Now, all the lust and desire you both had been bottling up for years came to the surface.

Holding onto the last bits of your will, you took a step back, putting some visible distance between Daemon and yourself - so that you could think clearly once more.

"Then why," you asked, your voice sounding weaker than you wanted it to. "Why did you disappear from my life?"

The Prince cast a quick look at the curious people around you - some of the council members seemed kind of interested in your conversation with Daemon since they were sending curious looks in your direction every other second.

Muttering something under his breath - he was probably cursing at the nosiness of the people - Daemon quickly put on one of his most charming smiles. "Perhaps the lady would like to grant me the honour of dining with her this evening," he spoke with his velvet-like voice as he took your hand and brought it to his soft lips. The mild wind was causing his silver hair to sway ever so gently. "Where we can discuss further, as long as she likes."

Your heart skipped a beat.

Of course, you knew what his true intention was. This invitation was more than just a dinner where you could both scream at each other about the fourteen years you have lost - it was also to make up for all that time.

Your brain was shouting at you, telling you that you were making a big mistake - the Prince was still married, even though his marriage had been a bigger failure than yours - but your desires were stronger.

"I would love to, my Prince." The words left your lips before you could even think.

Daemon winked at you before leaving Godswood. "I will be waiting for you in my chambers, love."

[crushribbons]

𝖇𝖎𝖗𝖉𝖎𝖊, 𝖕𝖙. 𝖎𝖎

summary: Sebastian Sallow should have been a Ravenclaw, again. (series masterlist)

cw: 3.5k words, fluff, light angst-adjacent content but really just more pining, brief smut (18+ ONLY), oral sex (f receiving), penetrative sex, suggestions of dubcon, fem reader, i make you think abt seb in a towel again 😵‍💫 request

a/n: sorry for teasin' xx laney

The same annoying tendril of hair fell in her eye for the hundredth time that hour. She huffed hard in frustration and slapped it (and her own face, a bit) away, looking back down at the mostly-blank roll of parchment in front of her. The essay would not write itself, no matter how long she spent procrastinating by looking for and through any library books that would tell her how to get the essay to write itself. History of Magic was a special torture unlike any other. Might be best to pull out the old “dugbog ate my essay” routine on the impassive Professor Binns.

Besides, even if she had wanted to wax on about the Balkan Wizarding Summit of 1678 for several pages, she wouldn’t have been able to. Not with the thoughts that had been occupying the entirety of her brain since that fateful night two weeks ago. The night she kept finding herself returning to whenever her head hit her pillow, or whenever she had a quiet, absent moment brewing Wiggenweld in Potions, or whenever she walked or thought or breathed. The night when she’d witnessed her dear old chum Sebastian dripping wet out of the bath, water running down every line of his tanned and lightly freckled torso right to the top of a towel that was slung low on hips boasting a noticeable “V”, hair stuck to his forehead and cheeks flushed with embarrassment. The sight had floored her in such an unexpected way that a hysterical giggle had popped out of her mouth before she could stop it, and she saw Sebastian’s jaw tick in annoyance. 

As she’d walked away from the encounter, she had tried with all her might to pretend it hadn’t happened. It was funny, really, a silly and awkward little moment between two friends. That was all.

That was all, she’d reminded herself the next morning, brushing her teeth after a night of tossing and turning and peering at her puffy face in the bathroom mirror.

No great ordeal, she’d chastised her active imagination as she hopped on her broom and did a few laps around the Quidditch fields, hoping the bitter cold air would jolt her back to her senses.

And he probably doesn’t even remember it, she reasoned with herself every night while she closed the curtains around her bed, cast a silencing charm, and pulled her nightgown up around her waist. Sebastian had never been something to look at like that before, so why was she whining out his name every night, a hand that she desperately wished was his stuffed inside her underwear. 

This was Sebastian, she was dreaming about, after all. Her birdie, her inquisitive and acerbic classmate who seemed to need to know everything about her and whose laugh devolved into fits of snorting whenever he saw someone trip. And it wasn’t as if she’d seen him in the full nude; why was the sight of his bare chest and back sending her into such fits of ecstasy? It felt ridiculous, yet logic rarely won out over the way her heart pounded painfully whenever he made eye contact with her now.

Two days after the incident, they’d met in their usual seats in Transfiguration, and Sebastian had immediately broken the tension she was sure existed by bluntly saying, “I’m going to keep all my clothes on this time, I swear,” as she sat down beside him. She could feel red shame creeping up the back of her neck and prayed it wasn’t appearing over the top of her robes. 

“Good, I nearly had to go to the hospital wing and get my eyes removed after that,” she had sniffed in return, but both of them grinned and settled into their old routine of passing notes and coughing loudly whenever Ominis had to answer a question. For reasons unclear, it drove him mad.

Everything gradually fell back to normal, though she found that she could no longer use her affectionate nickname for him. She’d tried, once, when Sebastian had been pestering her for information on the Arithmancy exam she’d taken earlier in the day and that he was now staring down the barrel of. The stress had him grabbing at handfuls of his hair so they stuck out like he’d been hit with a blasting curse, and he’d begged for every detail she could remember, until she finally spluttered, “Questions, questions, questions! Leave me alone and go study yourself, birdie!” 

His mouth had clamped shut. Rare. Too rare. 

He had seemed so uncomfortable after that, shifting around in his chair so much and eventually getting to his feet and leaving with a weak joke, that she’d made up her mind never to call him birdie again. Clearly, he had lost his preference for it after their nighttime encounter, probably assuming condescension on her part. Nothing could be further than the truth; she just adored his incessant chirping so much that she wished she could carry him around on her finger all day. 

Whatever his thoughts on the matter were, something small had shifted between them that she couldn’t quite place her finger on. As the empty parchment roll looked glumly back at her in the dim candlelight of the library, she decided that she had had enough working for one day and slammed the tome in front of her shut. Dust flew everywhere and she spat it out of her mouth with disdain.

Trudging along to the Great Hall to see if there were any scraps of dinner still left, she considered a few other interactions with Sebastian and deemed them perfectly normal. The nickname was what seemed to set him off. Oh well, she sighed. Probably best that I don’t have a pet name for the man I can’t stop picturing naked, anyway.

Ominis and Sebastian were seated across from each other at the Slytherin table, and after passing by her own house table to snag a plate of shepherd’s pie and a small dessert, she sat down beside Sebastian and asked him how the Arithmancy exam had gone after all.

He screwed his eyes shut and groaned, his upper lip curling and head thrown back to expose his long neck. Her stomach swirled and she set the fork that had been on its way to her mouth back down. This man now made her lose all sense of reason. Her body was reacting in ways she wasn’t even familiar with now, all because of one stupid towel. “Oh, please don’t ask. I’ll be surprised if they even let me take my NEWT in Arithmancy. Horrendous.” 

She tried to pull herself together and respond as normal friends normally do. “I’m sure it wasn’t that bad. You always do wonderfully on exams and beat yourself up far more than you should,” she murmured evenly, picking at the pie. She turned to the man who looked far more appetizing. 

“Well, someone needs to,” he pouted, sticking his bottom lip out and resting his head on his hand as he looked at her. Ominis rolled his eyes and shook his head. 

“The ego on you,” he sighed, scraping the last bit of chocolate torte on his plate onto his fork. “Surprised your head doesn’t weigh down the rest of your body.” “It’s balanced out by the monster I’ve got down here,” Sebastian grinned like a devil and patted his upper thigh.

It’s a joke, it’s a joke, it’s a stupid joke made by a dumb boy with an ugly face and no sense of humor, it’s a joke. The mantra rattled around in her head for a few good seconds then drifted out her ears as she abandoned it in favor of considering what it might look like if he wasn’t joking. It was very unhelpful. 

She cleared her throat and pushed the shepherd’s pie away from her, replacing it with the dessert instead. It wasn’t until she scooped up a piece and brought it up to her mouth that her distracted brain realized what it was.

“Ah, my favorite again. Finally,” Sebastian said, and then he was leaning over her, hand resting on the top of her leg to steady himself as he intercepted the piece of cherry tart and pulled it off her fork with his teeth before she could eat it herself. Everything inside her shut down. Her mouth hung agape as she watched him hum in rapturous delight and chew the tart. He gave the top of her leg a swat and said, “All yours now. I’ve already had three.”

Words wouldn’t come. Thoughts wouldn’t come. Only the sensation of his large, warm hand pressing into her leg and the proximity of his face to hers as he’d stolen the bite existed. She had been able to smell whatever scent he wore, and it was something like pine needles and black pepper, although maybe that was just residual from a Herbology class. Even after he’d made a parting joke and climbed to his feet, Ominis and him exiting the hall engaged in a discussion of Quidditch prospects, the scent filled her nose and drove her light-headed. 

Having a massive, soul-sucking crush on your friend was not for the faint of heart, she decided, as she pushed the tart away, too, and left for her dormitory. Her insides were wound so tight she was worried they would snap, and her panties were so covered in slick by the time she reached her empty bedroom that she stripped down and tugged on her dressing gown. A bath, she needed a nice, hot bath to wash away the grime of her thoughts.

The dressing gown’s thin material slipped off her shoulders as she gathered clean pajamas and braided her hair up and off her neck, and she grunted with annoyance. She had really appreciated the gift of the robe, a hand-me-down from Poppy, but the aged and stretched cotton would not stay up on either of their shoulders. She tied the belt as tight as she could around her waist and slipped out of the dormitory, making her way through the sea of students sweating over homework and revisions in the common room.

The prefects’ bathroom sounded heavenly, especially as the cold stone floor of the castle bit through her thin slippers and the passing of a careless ghost’s cloak through her right shoulder left her shivering. She ambled up stairs and down them, through corridors, and used more than one hidden passage, old hat to her at this point, until she ended up in the faculty tower. Only a few more flights separated her and warm, soapy relief from the thoughts of Sebastian plaguing her. 

It wasn’t terribly late yet, and a couple Ravenclaw students mingled on the landing just below the bathrooms. They waved at her and she waved back, their names escaping her but giving them a jovial smile all the same. Beginning her final ascent, she watched the steps in front of her and tried to recall where she knew their faces from. She was still racking her brain for their identities when she ran into a wall.

“Ugh!” she cried, irritated that she had been jostled out of her thoughts by the unyielding stone. Then the stone did yield and she looked up, startled.

“We can’t keep meeting like this,” Sebastian said with raised eyebrows. He stood on the step above her, wearing dark blue pajamas, a towel slung over his shoulder and wet hair carefully parted and combed. Even fully-clothed, he took her breath away. As usual. A small knick under his jaw told her he’d cut himself shaving, and she wished with everything inside her that she could kiss the tiny cut. Not really friendship behavior, though.

She tried to clear her throat, searching for something witty to say in return. “No,” was what she finally came up with. “We can’t.” 

“Prefects’ bathroom is superior, isn’t it?”

“Mmmm.”

“Aren’t you glad to see I remembered these this time?” He plucked at the pinstripe pajama pants. 

No. “Yes, I certainly am.”

“Are you going to bed straight after?”

“I think so.”

“What time are you getting breakfast?”

“Is that enough questions yet?!” She spluttered, feeling her nerves recede a bit as his chirping tickled her. He smiled broadly.

“What else can you expect from your b-birdie?” He tripped over the last word and his smile faltered. Something unchecked in her chest stirred. Sebastian Sallow did not trip over his words. He picked each one carefully and considered the potential outcomes they would elicit in every situation. Why was this one ridiculous little pet name causing the both of them so much awkwardness?

She opened her mouth to try and tell him that she expected nothing less, but stopped when she saw his hazel eyes suddenly widen and travel down from her face to her chest. Before she had time to be confused, she realized that her shoulders were suddenly freezing and goosebumps had broken out over her clavicle. The damned dressing gown had once again slipped down, nearly to her elbows, and couldn’t pull it back up fast enough. A large swathe of her chest had been exposed, and despite the cold, heat flared in her sternum and rose up her neck to her face as she yanked the gown up and clutched it closed at her neck. 

“Fuck off, it was an accident,” she hissed without thinking when Sebastian’s eyes did not return to their normal size. Humiliation was seeping into her bones, settling there like a disease that no healer could cure. Things had just returned to normal, (well, as normal as they could get now that she could think of little else than Sebastian’s body), and now they were having a repeat performance. Whatever god was orchestrating this rigamarole had a cruel spirit indeed. 

“I-I know,” Sebastian stammered. Ever the charming Slytherin, he recovered himself quickly and added, “Hey, we’re even now. You saw me and I saw–nothing!” He turned course mid-sentence and threw his hands up in a defensive pose when she glared at him. He really never knew when the right and wrong times to make a joke were.

“Just…good night!” She all but snapped, brushing past him and up the rest of the stairs, not bothering to look back at him as she jogged towards the bathroom door. The prefect standing sentry outside waved her in and she bolted for the women’s baths. 

How fucking humiliating could life get? Like a silly, love-drunk girl, she had developed some very confusing and sinful feelings for Sebastian, all because she’d seen him a little bit wet. Granted, his tanned skin had been shining under the droplets of water, and his back was taut and muscular from years of bludger-beating, and his legs were long enough to make her lose her way, and gods, what on earth had that thin, grey towel been concealing…

As she sunk into the steaming bath and mounds of bubbles, she let out one final wail of lament for her dignity before plunging underwater.

Her dreams that night reached a new summit of horror.

First, she was lost in a maze of hallways. They weren’t Hogwarts hallways, but she knew she was running late for an exam all the same. Every corner she rounded and door she opened displayed empty rooms and brick walls. Time ticked past at an extraordinary pace, the exam start time creeping steadily nearer but her destination refused to show itself, despite her panicked sprinting. When she finally found herself in something resembling a classroom, fifty students crouched over individual desks and scribbling away, she felt a momentary wash of relief. 

Then, a hand was wrapping itself around her leg and she was screaming. The hand yanked her backwards out of the classroom and down the hall, the room fading from her view as her unseen kidnapper pulled her at an impossible pace. A bright flash of light and she felt the hand unwrap from her calf and something retreat into the darkness. Sebastian was suddenly in front of her, taking her head in his hands and murmuring something she couldn’t make out. He seemed to be concerned about her, but all she could feel was his warmth and safety and she felt herself tumbling into his lake-hazel eyes. 

They were kissing before she could figure out why the exam didn’t seem to matter anymore. “Oh, God, sweetheart,” Sebastian was rasping as he pulled his lips away, face hazy with want. She whined and tugged him back to her, and she found herself in a location she couldn’t quite make out in the semi-darkness, but her back was pressed against something more comfortable than the marble hallway floors that Sebastian had rescued her from. 

He was slotting a leg in between hers and kneading it gently around. Her body felt vaguely light and floaty, a new breed of arousal building as she bumped herself against his leg and pulled his bottom lip into her mouth. 

“Seb,” she gasped, but he was already gone, pulling her dressing gown–goddamn that dressing gown, haunting her even here!–down and ripping it off entirely so she was exposed to him. Dream Sebastian had longer hair. It curled slightly around his ears and brushed the bottom of his neck, tickling her when he leaned back down to kiss her neck with hot, wet lips. 

She would later admit that she quite preferred the power she held in the realm of her subconscious to the power she held in reality; perhaps wielding ancient magic was a benefit for some, but willing Sebastian’s clothes away and feeling the all-too-real heat of him pressed against her naked body gave her more of a thrill than she ever could have summoned.

In an instant, she found him sunk between her legs, hot mouth ghosting over her weeping heat and then delving into it. She shrieked, letting it dissolve into a moan as his tongue swirled around her clit and he sucked it into a gentle kiss. Her hands dug into his sandy brown hair, using the extra length to her advantage and tugging. Why was it so long?

"You taste so divine, I knew it," he was groaning. "Better than any fucking tart."

Time was strange. They stayed wrapped in each other for a year and a minute simultaneously, and then he was fucking her with a savage gentleness that made her weep. His slow, hard movements were almost cruel in their sweetness. And she even managed to notice, through her daze, that his cock was just as he'd promised, its thickness splitting her open and making her eyes roll back in her head.

He was panting, his words once more indiscernible but seemingly lust-fueled. The sensation of his cock pushing into her made her body, small under his powerful frame, shake. Using his defined abdomen, he pushed himself up as he continued fucking her and cried, “Shit, baby, come for me! I’m all fucking yours.”

Her orgasm gained ground and was cresting high and wide when he added, “Let me see you cry when you come real pretty, please? Hm? Come on, I’ll be a good little birdie, I swear.”

Her eyes snapped open and she sucked in a huge breath of air, chest heaving, her sheets wrapped around and clinging to her sweat-ridden body. She was positively drenched, both outwardly and inwardly, and the rising frustration when she realized that she was very much alone in her bed and that the dream was slipping through the cracks in her memory like water made her roll over, stuff her face into her pillow, and scream.

Ominis thought about what a wonderful friend he was for putting up with that disorganized slob Sallow as he dug through the disorganized slob’s school bag for a new bottle of ink. When he had run out in the middle of his homework, Sebastian had absently waved him upstairs to the bedroom and told him to grab a fresh bottle from his bag, his gaze never leaving the teetering tower of shortbread he was building. 

“What a prince,” Ominis grunted to himself, feeling around for anything glass and instead receiving several paper cuts from the loose pages Sebastian kept stuffed away, in case he was ever caught needing garbage. His slim hand closed around a small bottle and he smiled in triumph, eager to be done with his spelunking expedition. As he yanked the bottle through the layers of debris in the bag, the force required caused him to stumble backwards, just a step, and into Sebastian’s nightstand. Something thudded onto the floor and Ominis bent to sweep his hands over the floor and find it.

A book, hardcover, without rips or tears to indicate its age. Ominis picked it up and felt around the cover, curious to see what nighttime reading his friend was doing, and curious to see if it happened to be his first voluntary non-Quidditch-related read. The embossed letters on the front were so shiny and slick that he found it hard to make out the title using just his touch, so Ominis pulled his wand from his pocket and held it over the book, words coming into clearer focus in his mind’s eye. 

Legilimency and the Dreamer, the book proclaimed. A subtitle at the bottom of the cover read: “Infiltrating the sleeping mind, for the beginner.”

Ominis snorted and threw the book back on Sebastian’s night stand, wondering whom it actually belonged to. Definitely not Sallow's.

pt. 3

masterlist

[dixons-sunshine]

Thinkin’ about a lil fluffy blurb of the young!daryl au about the morning after their first time. I just think he’d be so nervous but inside so happy, like he just feels so loved🥺

I wanna give him a hug and a smooch

The Morning After | Young!Daryl Dixon x Young!Fem!Reader

Summary: The morning after you had your first time with Daryl, you could clearly see the apprehension and fear in his eyes, the self deprecating thoughts that you would regret it. Not about to have the perfect man think that you regretted him, you took it upon yourself to reassure him how much you loved him, even if those words weren't spoken yet.

Genre: Fluff.

Era: Pre apocalypse.

Part of the Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams AU.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of Daryl's scars, suggestive themes.

Word count: 1.3k.

A/n: Don't know how to feel about this, to be totally honest with you. I feel like my writing has really been lacking lately, but maybe working on that series idea will help me out a little. Anyways, I hope you like this!

The morning sun was shining brightly through the curtains in your small room. The birds were chirping merrily outside your window and the sound of the children's bright laughter could be heard clearly, the weekend brightening every school goer's moods. The sound of people conversing with each other could also distinctly be heard, and for once, it seemed as if the world's troubles melted away, and everyone was at peace, even if only for a little while.

Daryl Dixon would describe peace as the feeling of having you pressed tightly against his side, your head resting on his bare chest as you slept peacefully. Daryl listened to the steady rhythm of your breathing, the rise and fall of your chest bringing a sense of calm to the young man. He felt a sense of pride knowing that you trusted him enough to sleep so peacefully, completely unaware of your surroundings. You trusted him to keep you safe while you were in your most vulnerable state, and that made a small smile spread across his face.

Although your relationship was relatively new, just recently surpassing the six month mark, Daryl felt more at peace than he ever had when the two of you were merely best friends. And after the night prior, when the two of you had finally crossed the threshold and given your most sacred parts of yourselves to one another, your relationship had taken a turn—for the better or for the worse, Daryl couldn't be sure of until you woke up.

Daryl sighed as he caressed your bare arm softly, his fingers following an invisible path that only his eyes could see. Although Daryl had no regrets for what happened the night before, he had no idea whether or not you'd share that same sentiment. He knew that he was inexperienced and that he hadn't performed as well as someone knowledgeable about it, but he hoped he did okay.

You seemed to have enjoyed it, but Merle had told him before that women could fake it enough to convince the man that they had finished, so he couldn't be sure. And if you did fake it, what would he do about it? He couldn't be mad, but he would be a little hurt. Would he confront you about it? Would he just go home and try to play it cool? He didn't know.

Daryl was startled when he felt the press of something warm against his chest. Gazing down, he locked eyes with you, and he was relatively surprised to be met with that warm, beautiful smile of yours.

You laughed quietly and continued to press soft, gentle kisses all along his chest, being extra gentle whenever you came across one of his scars. Your kisses soon trailed all the way up to his neck, up to his jaw, his cheek, before you stopped right when you got to his mouth. You let your mouth hover slightly above his, your lips barely grazing against each other, giving him the chance to back away if he didn't want to share a kiss with you.

Daryl slowly leaned forward until his lips pressed against yours fully, his hand trailing up your arm and to the back of your neck. The kiss ended too soon for his liking, with you pulling away first to lean your forehead against his.

You smiled fondly at him. “Good morning, handsome.”

Daryl chuckled. “G'mornin', beautiful,” Daryl greeted you, his morning voice raspy and hotter than he knew, making your breath hitch at the seductive sound. “Ya sleep okay?”

Pulling yourself together, you shook the intrusive thoughts from your mind and nodded. “Better than I have in a long time,” you confirmed, letting your fingers gently trail down his chest. “I didn't know that having sex could tire someone out that much.”

Daryl hummed in agreement. “Yeah,” he mumbled, his mind wandering back to his previous thoughts before you woke up. Did you regret it? Would you kick him to the curb after that one night?

Perceptive as ever, you instantly noticed the shift in his mood. Why didn't he look as relaxed as you felt? Then, as if being struck by lightning, you remembered what had happened once before. You were transported back to the day when the two of you had originally almost slept together, and you remembered what Daryl had told you. You remembered his insecurities, and it all made sense.

Not wanting to scare him off by addressing his insecurities head on, knowing that he'd feel uncomfortable if you did that, you instead took his face into your hands and pressed your lips against his for a firm kiss. Your thumbs gently caressed his cheeks, and you smiled against his lips when you felt Daryl's arms wrap around your waist, subconsciously helping you straddle his lap while he moved into a seated position.

You pulled away from the kiss, gazing deeply into his ocean coloured eyes. “Last night was incredible,” you began, smiling at him fondly. “You were incredible.”

Daryl blushed and tried to duck his head in embarrassment, but your hands on his face stopped him. He looked at you, a shy smile spreading across his face. “Yeah?” he whispered.

“Yeah,” you confirmed, nodding for emphasis. “It was amazing. I've never felt that good in my life. You were like a Greek god last night. I don't think you've ever looked hotter, and that's saying a lot, because your sleeveless shirts make you look hot as fuck.”

“Stop,” Daryl mumbled, but he couldn't help the small smile that tugged at the corner of his lips at your words.

“I'm serious!” you laughed lightly. “Seriously, Dar, you were amazing last night. I have absolutely no complaints.”

“Yer sure?” Daryl questioned, looking at you unsurely. “Ya dun' have any regrets or anythin'?”

You shook your head. “No. If anything, I regret not doing this sooner.”

Daryl chuckled, leaning forward to press a tender kiss against your forehead. “Yer too nice to me. If ya have any regrets—”

“I don't,” you cut him off, cupping his face in your hands again. “Daryl Dixon, we've been over this once before. When it comes to you, I regret nothing. I don't regret becoming your friend all those years ago, I don't regret agreeing to be your girlfriend, and I certainly don't regret last night. It was amazing, you were amazing, and I'll definitely be doing this again. That is, if you want to, of course. I'd never force you to do anything you don't want to.”

“Are ya kiddin'?” Daryl asked rhetorically. “'Course I wanna do this again. Las' nigh' was amazin' to me.”

“Then it's settled,” you told him with a sense of finality in your voice. “You never have to worry when it comes to me. If you do anything that makes me uncomfortable, you know I'd tell you. Now tell those voices in your head to fuck off.”

Daryl chuckled and nodded. “Yes, ma'am.”

“Good.” You leaned forward and pressed another kiss to his lips before getting off his lap, sitting on the edge of the bed and reaching down to grab your shirt. “I'm gonna make us some breakfast. Get dressed and join me, handsome.”

“Ya gon' make bacon?” Daryl questioned, silently mourning the loss of the sight of your bare body as it disappeared beneath your shirt.

“Of course,” you confirmed.

“Then I'll be righ' there, sunshine.”

©dixons-sunshine 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified, adapted or translated to any other site or platform without evidence of my given consent.

[luffyvace]

Dating ~ Sanji Vinsmoke ~ headcanons

These are sfw and gender neutral

for Sanji’s big day! (I’m super late ik hush :3)

pt2 here my sillies :3 : Dating ~ Sanji Vinsmoke ~ headcanons pt2

Dating Sanji includes royal treatment. We all know this. It’s so obvious. 😭 It’s in the manga, it’s canon, we all write it in our headcanons. We know this.

Royal treatment meaning sit back and relax dear, Sanji’s got this. Sea beast? He beat it up and is now cooking a delicious and nutritious sea beast stew for you, would you like that with a smoothie? Lemonade? Water? Ok water. Sparkling? Distilled? Iced?

oh your lost? Don’t worry he’s got bread and he’ll leave breadcrumbs where you’ve walked so you don’t go in circles :)

your clothes are wet? Take his. 💋

there’s mud up ahead and you just bought a snazzy new fit? He’ll carry you 🏋️‍♂️

somebody bothering you loveliest? He’s already kicked them to Australia (extra hard if it was Zoro)

Dating Sanji includes good communication.

If you feel anything but a positive emotion Sanji is on the case. And the first victim he’s pointing fingers at is Zoro 😼

”MOSS HEAD BASTARD!! YOU MADE THEM UPSET DIDNT YOU?!”

it’s not a person darling? Well what happened? What can he do to help? Did you loose something? He’ll turn into a mad man causing chaos around town looking for it! Did it drop into the ocean? He swims as deep as he needs to in order to find it.

Honestly he even babies you about little stuff :P you stubbed your toe? Want him to massage it for you? That’s it! He’s breaking out the foot spa! Take off your socks and shoes!

he did something that really upset you?! Tell him what it is right away! He’ll make sure he never steps outta line ever again! He *kiss* never *kiss* meant *kiss* to *kiss* upset *kiss* you *kiss*~

Never feel hesitation to tell him if something’s wrong with you physically “Chopper! Come check them out right now!! They say somethings’ wrong!”

Nor mentally! You’ve been going through some tough times these last few months?! Sit down and tell him everything!! Let’s get to the root of this! Together! Is it someone else?? Did it happen from something??

Even if you aren’t feeling negative emotions right now always feel free to rant to him about what’s making you happy! he’d love to hear it truly! He loves your voice even more~ 🥰 *nose bleed*

Dating Sanji includes 5 star meals.

another thing we all know. And in every headcanon- but seriously what’s all your favorite meals, snacks and desserts? Even if Luffy himself says to make one thing he might make another just because he knows you like it. That guy eats anything anyway so he might as well just make what you like! 🧑‍🍳

Dating Sanji includes overly cheesy confessions despite the fact that your already and only dating.

”My dearest..I would love if you would go out with me and make this evening the loveliest of my days! I’d wholeheartedly accept and put my all into cooking for our first date….My love and affection with herb and spice…the flavor of our intense compatibility will melt on your tongue every bite you take! Guaranteed!”

”Sanji….we’ve been dating for xyz months/years now..”

”ahhh~ Even to the blossoms of this beautiful spring day know we’re simply destined to be..! Getting married tomorrow..it’s been my dream since we’ve first met! I can see it already, smell it even..! The enchanting scene of you walking down the isle, putting your hands in mine…kiss! The happiest day of my life has officially been sealed! Everyone’s clapping! Cheering! Whoop woo’s arise in the air of our love!~ The 6 layer cake I spent every ounce of my time baking since I met you, on the side of us—predicting our perfect wedding kiss! An exact model of the scene~ It brings a tear to my eye! I hope I don’t keep you up tonight, my darling love! Because I certainly won’t be able to sleep when I’m much too busy imagining the scene over and over again until our big day tomorrow, the same one I’ve been replaying in my head since I first laid eyes on you~ 😚”

”what on EARTH Sanji. We’re only dating! Wha- What do I even say to this?!”

”you could say yes! My lovely future spouse!~ 😍😍”

”To what! You haven’t even properly proposed to me yet?! Let alone made it official⁉️“

”ohh my honey! I didn’t know you wanted to get married- the wind! The sea! The birds even know our fate! We-“

”ALRIGHT!”

”SHUT IT SEAWEED HEAD!! DON’T INTERUPT ME WHILE IM CONFESSING MY LOVE to the most wonderful soul to have ever lived~”

⚔️🗡🔥💥💥💥⚔️🗡🔥💥⚔️🗡💥💥🔥

(Sanji and zoro fighting :3)

Dating Sanji includes sure fire protection.

no one will ever lay a hand on you. For a man? Self explanatory. Blast that motha sucka to space.💥 For a woman?? Welll…he’ll take all the hits for you okay?! So run away and go get Nami or Robin!! Hurry darling!

Dating Sanji includes trust.

more than anything he trusts you with his deepest darkest secrets. There’s no front when it’s just you two around, purely him. Not telling you his lineage was because he wanted to put that behind him..it wasn’t supposed to come back up. And man is he the most sorry sucker on earth when he betrays the strawhats. Because that means he’s betraying you. Pleasepleasepleasetakehimbackplease.

Uh guys I ran out of characters I’m gonna do a part two I guess 😭… I didn’t want to thooo

[kairismess]

Hello!! Can I request a kageyama x reader? Where it's just high school fluff they're both crushing on each other :)

I love ur writing btw<33

hearts' day 008.

in which the king of the court has found his better half.

"...i don't have a crush."

he gruffly responded to you as he practiced his tosses, seeming a lot sloppier than how he performed before you asked him that question out of the blue. you chuckled, seeing how the question made him trip up on his feet and throw him off balance for a minute.

"well, what would you say if i told you i had a crush?" you challenged him, making him choke on his breath and forget he was ever practicing in the first place. his open hands received nothing and remained frozen in the air, the ball missing its mark and falling behind him as the blueberry haired boy stared up into the now empty space above him where no ball flew or awaited him any longer.

he slowly retracted back into a normal standing position, his arms falling to his sides, as he slowly turns to look at you, a dark storm cloud over his dark blue eyes as he crinkles up his forehead and nose at your words. "...is that so?" he asks you, a red hue tinting his cheeks a little as you smile and nod, with him not realizing who your crush is.

kageyana retrieves the ball to practice his serves again, all while keeping his ears sharp for hints on who this mystery crush of yours could be.

"he has short, dark hair..."

"uh-huh."

"and dark blue eyes..."

"mhm..."

"and a permanent scowl on his face, but it curls up into a happy, child-like smile when he's eating yogurt or drinking milk."

"o... kay."

you could not be talking about him right now... could you?

you chuckled and walked closer to him, the volleyball he forgot to receive in your hands after you picked it up for him, handing it to him shyly with a smile. "and did i forget to mention, he's very... talented at volleyball. like, crazy talented, i've never met anyone as dedicated to the sport as him. and i love him more and more everyday that i see him working hard to achieve his dreams."

kageyama's dark blue eyes widened, a tint of red strewn across his cheeks. "...hinata, you mean?" he asked you, all those hints you dropped earlier flying over his blueberry head.

you pout and playfully hit his head. "dumbass." you mutter, about to chuckle. kageyama couldn't help but glare at you a little, he wasn't exactly mad at you, but he was a little frustrated at you making him guess who you like instead of you outright telling him.

he captured your cheeks, squishing them with one hand in a tight grip. "spit it out, who is it?" "like i'd tell you, tobio..." "c'mon, get on with telling me, or else... i'll never tell you that i like you–"

oh crap.

your eyes met his, that slight tinge of red on his face shifting to a full blown flustered expression made kageyama let go of your cheeks, withdrawing from you by a few steps, looking away from you as he tried to forget what he just admitted to you, hoping you'd forget what he said, or even didn't get to hear a word of it.

"...you like me back?" you asked him in a shy whisper, making kageyama's ears perk up, his head whipping backwards to face you, his blush remaining on his face. "...like you back?" he repeated involuntarily, making you get a shy and flustered, smiling like a dork as you fiddled with your thumbs. "yeah... you like me, and i... i like you."

"i... i guess i do."

"you guess?"

"i-i mean... dammit." he muttered as he approached you, not even looking at you. and in the blink of an eye, he leaned over and pecked a soft kiss on your forehead, quickly moving away from you as he regret what he just did, while you remained in a blissful shock as a warm fuzziness flooded your entire body, making you smile even wider.

"hey, you can't just run off after giving me a kiss, tobio... lemme return the favor." you offered, grinning sweetly, threatening to make kageyama fall for you even more as he could only freeze up in place and nod slowly to your offer of returning his affections–and to him... this was nice, really, really nice. and fuzzy. and warm. and just so right.

he could get used to it... he was already missing you even though you were right here with him, oh, just what have you done to the blueberry boy's heart?

[andreafmn]

Hello I see your taking request again ! I’m so happy It’s been sooo long hope your doing well !?!

Can you write a reader x jasper

Reader is a vampire she has been with the cullens for ever like before Alice and jasper got there !

She’s as cool as a cucumber like no one has ever seen her mad

Well once edwards started seeing Bella and being a diva he makes a comment about jasper and reader loses it like full on throws him through a wall lol

Everyone is super shocked because they’ve never seen her like that and emmitts booming voice in the back round saying well never talk shit about jasper in front of reader again

everyone nods in agreement and jasper just looks at reader and says I love when your defending me love but let’s not put anymore people through a wall and everyone laughs

Word Count: 3K

Story Description: (Y/N) Cullen might be even-tempered and calm by nature. But when it came to her partner, no one gets by unscathed. Not even her own family.

A/N: I know I took forever to post this request, but I always take forever for everything 😅 though I hope you enjoy and that I did your request honor, anon. My content will always be free, but if you’re feeling particularly generous, you can leave a tip on any of my posts to support me and my love of writing🥺👉👈. Hope you enjoy, and all constructive criticism is encouraged.

TikTok • Instagram • Business | MASTERLIST

If you’d like to be tagged in any story or make a request: click here Make sure you have my notifications on so you know every time I post! Tagging apparently has reached its limits for Twilight stories. It won't allow me to post with the list I have right now, so turning on notifications will allow you to know whenever I post anything new.

Karmic Retribution

There were certain unspoken rules to being a Cullen.

One of the worst ones, the oldest made all the decisions. This meant that, more often than not, Carlisle and Edward were the ones to determine the outcome for the family. And to that point, it had been fine. There was never anything truly holding them down to any place in particular, and they could travel any time they wanted.

(Y/N) was fine with that to an extent. She was on the same level as Edward in terms of age, and sometimes she felt she should have more leverage in family decisions than she had. But she had always been quiet, keeping her anger always at bay. And it helped that she had Jasper by her side.

Their connection was almost instantaneous.

When the messy bundle of blond curls walked into their home in Calgary, she knew he’d turn her whole life around. They grew close quickly. Spending almost every moment by each other’s side. (Y/N) could not remember her life before she met Jasper Whitlock. As time passed, the memory of her time without him seemed more and more like a dream rather than her past. To her, he had been there forever.

Though she did not have any special abilities, everything about her was extraordinary to Jasper. She became his lifeline, the only thing to keep him afloat when he felt like drowning. Because most days he felt his head was always just barely above water. Treading on the line between fighting his animalistic instincts and his new family’s peculiar lifestyle.

(Y/N) could do to him what he was able to do for everyone else. She could read his emotions before he had a chance to name them, and she somehow found a way to make him calm and tranquil. She was everything he did not know he needed.

He had been afraid to tell her of his past. How he’d fought for the confederacy and had built and led an army of newborns in the south. He was ashamed of the lives he had taken, the people he had turned and promised eternity to in exchange for their loyalty, only to dispose of them one year later. All for what he thought was love. Jasper was frightened that the second he confessed to the sins of his past, (Y/N) would forsake him and push him aside.

Instead, he was met with a wave of compassion that washed over him. As his eyes stung from dry tears, (Y/N) provided him with a smile that he was sure could warm his frozen body. She placed a comforting hand on his cheek and gave his lips a soft kiss.

“Our pasts do not define the people we are today,” she had told him, nothing but love in her eyes. “The reason we are who we are now is because we have moved forward from what we did yesterday. You don’t need my forgiveness, my love. For the man I know now will never be the same as the man that was. What you need is to forgive yourself.”

At that moment, Jasper knew that his search was finally over. Though he still struggled with his hunger and considered himself a dangerous man, he’d found the person that could love him completely. A woman that had taken one look at the scars of his past — literally and figuratively — and, instead of recoiling in fear and disgust, had placed a kiss upon them and filled them with love and compassion.

“Do you know how lucky I am, darling?” Jasper had told her one day as they lay in a clearing somewhere in the snowy surroundings of Alaska.

“Is that so?” (Y/N) chuckled. Her fingers traced the stitching of the vest he wore, her head pressed against his chest wondering what his heartbeat could have sounded like. “I’d like to think I’m the one that is lucky. How many years did I spend on my own, waiting on my forever? Then you show up, with Alice in tow, and you change our family for the better. And now, I have someone to walk through life until the end of time.”

“Life is funny that way, huh,” he smiled. “And that is precisely what I wanted to speak to you about. I know our journey is seemingly endless and certain mundane things don’t particularly mean as much as eternity. But there is something that I want more than anything — mostly as a symbol of how much I love you. Because in this life and the next I want nothing more than to spend it by your side. So I ask you, (Y/N), would you do me the absolute honor of allowing me to be your husband?”

“For as long as love lives between us, yes. A thousand times yes.”

A wedding was such a monumental event for humans. For beings that stood the trials of time, it was a symbol of commitment. A way to bind their lives with something other than words. A simple promise made in the presence of the people they valued above everything else. That they were making the choice to intertwine their lives in all ways, regardless of any circumstances.

The event had been small, much to Alice’s dismay. The pair simply wanted their family and a few friends in attendance. Their love needed no impressive show, it simply was, and that’s how they wanted it.

In the family, they kept their heads low and out of the way. It was futile to insist on having more of a voice when it came to the decisions of the family. To that point, they had no quarrels with the choices the patriarch had determined for the clan.

Keeping to themselves allowed (Y/N) and Jasper to form a bond like no other. They didn’t need Edward’s mind reading to be able to hear the other’s thoughts; didn’t need Alice’s foretelling to know their life would be live and full of life. The couple had created the perfect balance between themselves and orbited around the family. Still, it was them against the world.

Jasper being the youngest — at least considered that way for being the last to join the family — was often the target for many quips in the family. From his stoic stare to his short fuse when it came to human blood, the blond would often be the butt of the joke. And it never seemed to anger him. He’d chuckle from time to time or roll his eyes at any lines that went just a little too far. But he never defended himself or asked them to stop.

His efforts were centered on keeping (Y/N)’s anger toward the family at bay. Though she was calm by nature, she despised the way their adoptive brothers picked Jasper apart. How they would jokingly criticize something the man could not control. It was often a topic of discussion when the pair enjoyed a rare moment of privacy.

“I’m going to squash them,” she huffed. “Are they not tired of the same jokes? Is there even an original thought in their heads?”

“There’s no need to worry your pretty little head over them, darling,” Jasper chuckled, placing a comforting kiss on her head. “I’m used to it by now.”

“But you shouldn’t be! Every day you work your hardest to control yourself around humans and I know how painful it can be for you. Then Tangina and Schwarzenegger come in and tell the same stupid jokes over and over again,” she exclaimed. (Y/N)’s arms flew up in frustration earning a chuckle from the man as he stared at her from where he lay. “It’s not funny, Jasper. One of these days I’m gonna blow and you’re not gonna be able to calm me down.”

“As much as I would love to see you say your piece to Edward and Emmett, I assure you I do not mind.” He took her hands in his, kissing the knuckles gingerly. “Their words do not affect me, darling. The only person whose approval I care for is yours.”

“And that you will have until the end of time.”

And that was the case for the next couple of years. Whenever they’d reach a new town the other two Cullen teens would joke about how Jasper could snap at any moment, and he’d wreak havoc in the city. They would say pick on him and laugh at him. The worst part, he simply took it, much to (Y/N)’s dismay.

She would grow angry, he would temper her emotions, she would complain about their brothers’ treatment behind their backs, and he would say it was fine. But it shouldn’t have been fine. He should never have gotten used to the unnecessary mean jokes from the older boys.

When they settled in Forks, (Y/N) already knew the cycle. New town, same jokes. The only difference this time, Edward grew obsessed with a particular human.

The day he’d come home from school muttering how he needed to leave for some time and hole himself up in Alaska, (Y/N) couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face. There was Mr. Jasper-can’t-control-himself at the end of a downpour of blood frenzy. Everything he had jabbed at her partner with had come back to bite him.

She had laughed with Jasper that night, the jokes laced with actual worry that Edward would be the one to snap and attack a human. But the karmic retaliation had been far too exquisite for her to remain concerned. Revenge was always a very tasty treat.

But her small victory had not lasted long.

Only a week later, Edward had come back home with a recharged confidence. His woes about hurting Isabella Swan had died in a matter of seven days and he was ready to throw a hundred and ten percent toward forming a connection with the frail human.

And with Edward’s presence coming back, so did the overused jokes.

It had been a sunny afternoon in Washington and all the Cullens were stuck inside the house. Most of the morning had been uneventful, each of the family members reclused in their own rooms. The house was quiet and tranquil, peaceful. But that never lasted long. Especially when they were all home.

“So, Edward, this Bella chick is kind of… different, huh?” Emmett commented, his typical goofy grin spreading across his face. “But don’t you think it’s kinda dumb to get involved with a human?”

“Yeah, it might be,” he chuckled. “But it would be dumb of me to not even try. There’s just something about her that’s… intoxicating.”

“Yeah, it’s called human blood,” Rosalie spat. “Because she’s a human, Edward. The worst thing you could do is get involved with her. It could put her in danger. It can put all of us in danger.”

“There’s nothing wrong with testing the waters though,” he debated. “There’s truly something about her that calls to me. I need to see what it is.”

Anger had started sprouting inside (Y/N) as she listened to her family discuss the sudden apparition of Bella in their lives thanks to their adoptive brother. The cold that ran through her veins suddenly started growing warm, consuming her from the inside out. Not even the hand that Jasper had placed lovingly on the low of her back was enough to dissuade the ire that was taking over her.

“We’ve pretended to be humans for decades; I think I can do it for a couple of months with Bella. I just… I need to get to know her,” Edward continued. “I need to at least try.”

“And what will you do when she starts asking questions?” (Y/N) interjected. “How will you explain the cold skin? The fact that you don’t eat? The fact that you turn into a disco ball under the sun? How will you refrain from telling her you are a vampire?”

“I simply won’t tell her, (Y/N),” he chuckled. “It’s not that hard to not mention the fact that my family and I are a bunch of supernatural vampires.”

“You can’t even read her mind, Ed. How will you know she’s not coming up with conclusions on her own?”

“God, we can sit here a debate all night long on why it’s a bad idea for me to get in any way, shape, or form to get involved with Bella,” he retorted. “But it’s not really a family decision. I’m gonna see where things go with her, regardless of what any of you think.”

“So, you’re willing to put our family – our whole species – in danger, for a seventeen-year-old you met a couple of weeks ago?” (Y/N) questioned. Jasper was failing to calm her down. He could feel the angry red monster taking over her mind as she debated with Edward. Her emotions were taking over her reason and he could do nothing to help her. “I can’t believe you could be that reckless and selfish. Our entire existence depends on us being careful and guarding our secrets with our lives, especially in this town. If the Volturi don’t get you, I’m sure the wolves would be more than ready to put you in your place for breaking the treaty.”

“Oh, come on, (Y/N),” he laughed dryly. Everyone could tell he wasn’t taking the dangers seriously, he was not taking her seriously. To the older boy, it was merely a conversation. “If there’s anyone we should worry about recklessly exposing our secret is mister short fuse over there.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“That it only takes something as little as a prick on a finger and fidgety Jasper will be pouncing on a human. The safest way for any of us to keep the secret is for you to keep a short leash on your husband.”

Edward had once vowed to not use his ability on his family unless absolutely necessary, and he had always kept that promise. That afternoon, he regretted it.

As everyone laughed at his taunting joke, (Y/N)’s emotions reached their peak. Her eyes had grown darker, and her hands had balled into fists. She couldn’t resist the wrath that had taken over her. All she could see was red.

One second, the family was enjoying the gag against the Cullen. The next, (Y/N) had pushed Edward hard enough to go through a wall in their picturesque living room. Dust filled the area, fragments of the wall thudding against the wall, falling around the boy. A mix of glass, wood, and gypsum board had scattered around Edward’s body, his body coated in a fine layer of dust.

The same expression of shock washed over each of the family members, astonished at the sight in front of them. Calm-mannered and good-natured (Y/N) had finally reached her boiling point. For centuries, she had always been able to keep herself emotionally balanced, even without Jasper. None of them thought there would come a day when they would see her temperament break.

Her chest was heaving, her nostrils flared, and her hands still stretched in front of her. She wasn’t breathing, instead, she was letting out every ounce of fury that still burned inside her. In a split second, she regained her composure. (Y/N) smoothed down her clothes and her usual smile spread across her face.

Silence spread across the room, the kind that was enough to deafen ear drums. It was tense and uncomfortable, filled with a type of discord they had never witnessed between them before.

“I think we can all agree that all jokes about Jasper’s, uh, condition shall only be done in private or inside our heads,” Emmett’s voice sliced through the silence, his voice booming and reverberating against the walls. “That was… unexpected.”

“But we can all say it’s a long time coming,” Jasper grinned, turning his attention to the woman he proudly called his wife. “And, darling, as much as I love that you’re defending me, I think it’s best we don’t put more people through walls. Alright, love?”

“I guess that’s doable,” she smiled.

The rest of the siblings broke into laughter. All but Edward that wore a scowl on his face as he wiped away the white dust from his face. (Y/N) couldn’t help the pride that swelled in her chest. After years of biting her tongue and holding back her feelings, it felt exceptional to finally shut Edward up.

“Well, Edward, it seems you and Emmett will have to set aside some time to fix that wall,” Carlisle grinned. “Can’t have your new girlfriend coming over and seeing a person-shaped hole in our new living room.”

“Why do I have to do it? (Y/N)’s the one that pushed me!”

“Let’s call it your apology for taunting Jasper for the past few decades,” Esme responded before joining her retreating husband. “Now get to it, boys.”

“How is that fair?”

“What can I say, Eddie boy?” (Y/N) grinned. “Karma’s a bitch.”

Jasper and (Y/N) promptly sped outside, needing a moment to themselves after the chaotic scene that unfolded. When they reached the clearing they often sneaked out to, the blond wrapped his wife in his arms and placed a passionate kiss on her lips.

“I can’t thank you enough for defending my honor,” he smiled, resting his forehead against hers. “Though I can’t say Edward didn’t deserve it, maybe next time we can try to use our words rather than our hands.”

“I’m offended, Major. It was a calculated reaction after years of bullying.”

“(Y/N),” he lovingly reprimanded. “You know better than that.”

“Alright, love. I promise I won’t throw Edward into a wall ever again,” she smiled, pecking his lips. “But I can’t promise I won’t find other ways to get even.”

“I would never expect less.”

At that moment, everything was perfect. Nothing and no one could ever have predicted that in less than a year Bella Swan would infiltrate their family, that all the quips against Jasper would accidentally turn into reality, and that life as the Cullens knew it would drastically be altered.

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[lucyandalexiafan]

Car ride home | Alexia Putellas x reader

Summary: you have a big crush on Alexia, everyone makes jokes about this but Ale doesn't seem to understand, and you have to come back (to your) home with her after a three-day camp. What could possibly happen? Warnings: little "sexual" contact (hand on inner things), allusion to sex, little age gap not defined (something like five or six years).

Words: 2018.

Do not copy, translate or claim my works and fics as your own; if I find out I will report them and block you. Instead, write to me, my directs are always open, and ask me if you can publish your work/fic inspired by one of mine. However, you can reblog them!

“Are you coming home with me, little one?”

 I blush and try to protest.

 “Don't try, you won't take two trains to come back to Barcelona after a three-day camp”

The authoritative tone, an eyebrow raised as if she is daring me to protest.

I nod looking at her.

The others giggle.

Mapi messes up my hair.

She smiles mischievously.

She hugs me.

"See you Monday"

Behind her Ingrid waves her hand to greet me, a sweet smile on her face.

Ale snorts and there is more laughter, I look at the ground embarrassed.

“None of them will ever do something anyway” Marta adds.

I look at her, eyes slightly wider open.

Why do they keep insisting on joking about this?

Ona grabs my shoulder, laughing under her breath.

“Won’t you?”

“And that's it - Ale replies irritated – Bebita, do you have everything?”

I nod, slightly intimidated by the tone.

Is she mad at me?

I grab my bag and wave to the others, then follow her towards her SUV.

The trunk is already open.

She put her suitcase on the right, I put mine on the left and, on top of it, my backpack; I just take from it my phone before sitting next to her.

“I'm not mad at you, little one”

I blush at the nickname, looking at my hands.

“I'm sorry they always make jokes” I whisper guiltily, as if it were my fault.

It was so complicate bonding with her. She was the most reluctant to talk to me or communicate with me, the one that was cold from the beginning and very strict on the field; but she was like that only with me.

I had a crush on her even before we played together, but I never said it to her.

The fear of making mistakes is a constant in my friendship with her.

The fear of saying one word too much, making a rude joke or being intrusive.

The fear of ruining the friendship.

“Don't worry - she turns on the car - Put on some music, would you?”  She asks, handing me her cell phone.

I grab it, thinking about how the others had reacted when they saw me unlock it to change the song in the locker room when she asked me to.

How much they gossiped because no one knew her phone password. Not even Mapi knew it.

I put on a quiet 80s song that I know she likes.

Her free hand, due to the automatic control machine, is on her thigh.

After a while she points me to a town that can be seen from the road, she tells me that she had played one of her first women's soccer matches there.

Then, casually, she places her hand on my knee.

I hold my breath trying to act normal even though my heart is racing.

The thumb caresses my skin left bare by the short shorts.

“Did you enjoy the camp?”

“Mh?”  I ask, her eyes focused on his hand.

“If it bothers you, I'll take it off,” she whispers, giggling, her gaze fixed on the road.

“I… no, it doesn't bother me - the face getting hot - sorry”.

She chuckles turning left.

The hand goes up a little.

I move my leg towards her seat, spreading them apart.

She smiles slyly.

If possible, I am even more embarrassed by the gesture.

But I've been dreaming about this contact for months. A less innocent, less friendly, physical contact, something more than a hug.

I'm doing it wrong?

The next song starts and is her favorite.

“This is beautiful, I love it”

I smile nodding.

Her thumb pet my skin just under my shorts.

This is the first time we have had this contact.

What does it mean?

“So the camp?

Did you like it?"

I nod vigorously.

I turn towards her with my torso and her hand goes higher, about halfway up my thigh, under my shorts.

Fingers touching the inside of the thigh.

I gasp in surprise.

I try to recover quickly. “The… yes, it was n-nice” I reply, swallowing my saliva.

A nail scrapes across my skin and I feel a knot in my belly.

I gasp.

She starts talking about camp.

Of what I liked.

Of what could have been done better.

Of the coach.

I am too focused on her hand, on the humidity between my legs and concentrating on breathing to listen to her.

How long have you wanted this contact?

It means something doesn't it?

I mean, why else would it mean touching my inner thigh?

We had gotten closer in the last two months, it's true. We live six hundred meters from each other and, since I don't have a car, she accompanied me to the training and home quite every day.

But I didn't think she could look at me like that. She never showed any signs of it and she always said that I was too young, even though in the team there were relationships with multiple years of age difference. The others laughed about it and kept making more or less veiled jokes about the fact that we spent so much time together.

After a while of always seeing me arriving and going home with Ale, watching the way that we interact, the girls with whom I had bonded most in the few months since the beginning of my first year at Barcelona had asked me if I liked her.

I was at Lucy and Ona's house for a movie night, but I realized it was a trap the moment I entered the apartment and saw only the two that were living there, Aitana, Caro and Marta. I mean, it was a weird combination of people for a movie night knowing that Aitana is a person who talks a lot during movies, while Marta and Caro want absolute silence, and most of the team love the movie night, so why did there were few of them during a Thursday night?

I blushed as I looked at the ground when Aitana asked it; what I was supposed to say? Lying when it was so obvious to them was not the best decision, so I didn’t say something. After a few seconds Lucy hugged me giggling and Ona, while she was cooking, told me that "obviously she's feeling the same".

“We'll be home in ten minutes” she whispers.

I nod, snapping out of my thoughts.

"What are you thinking about?"

I observe her.

She smiles looking at the road.

Why is she so beautiful?

“I… nothing important”.

“Everything you think is important, little one”

I bite my lip.

She had started calling me that after dinner at her house, one of those we shared at the end of training when we came home late and didn't feel like eating alone, when I told her that I liked it as a nickname.

She had started using it in front of everyone after a couple of weeks and it was so nice to know that she had a nickname just for me; sometimes, when Ale is using it in front of Mapi, Mapi begins calling me the same, making jokes about us.

“Maybe you think of a boy or girl?”

I raise my eyebrow and she looks at me.

“Maybe you are thinking to someone, you're young and there's nothing wrong”

“Are you thinking of anyone?” I asked quickly without answering her.

I freeze at the idea that she does it and the person is not me.

Her hand rises higher when she stops abruptly the car in front of a traffic light; her middle finger which, if it were fully extended, would touch my soaked panties.

I moan at the idea.

I close my eyes.

“Actually, there is a person”

I widen my eyes.

I watch her.

“At first I tried to pretend that I didn't like her because she's younger than me and I've never had something with younger people-“

“You talk as if you were fifty,” I reply.

“Well, I'm twenty-nine.”

“How many does he have?”

“She - she replies - She, it's a she”

I bite my lip.

Even worse.

Overtaken by a woman.

A cursed and lucky woman.

“When… when did you understand?”

I hesitate when her fingers start to move exploring my inner thigh, my groin.

Why is she doing this to me if she has someone else on her mind?

“You know, for a series of reasons we found ourselves very close for a couple of days and at the end I had to accept that I like her - she smiles - And from there I look for every opportunity to talk to her or be together”

“She is a lucky girl,” I whisper.

She asks me to repeat when the car stops at a red traffic light.

Is possible that all the traffic lights are red?

The universe hates me.

Her eyes in mine.

I get lost watching her.

She is so beautiful… so perfect.

Her eyes, her nose, her cheeks…

“Mh?”

I open and close my mouth a couple of times when I feel her fingers brush the elastic of my underwear.

Should I move away?

I want it so bad, but I don't want her to do something with me just because maybe she can't be with that girl.

“She's lucky, the girl – whisper – Does she know?”

She giggles.

“You know, I don't think she has any idea of ​​the effect she has on me”

I close my eyes.

“She is so innocent and she gets embarrassed so often that her cheeks are always red… they are so adorable”

The gaze returns to the road.

She turns the wheel with one hand, turning left again.

She's so hot while she's driving.

Her fingers move, touching my skin.

But…

“She's a bit shy, but with the rest of the team she's much more relaxed than with me… I think I make her a bit uncomfortable”

Team?

I turn to her, her eyes wide, when I realize she's talking about me.

Cheeks on fire.

Is this happening?

“I can smell your arousal up here little girl – she tells me, looking at me while she parks the car under her house – You are so sensitive”

I gasp for air when she runs her tongue over her lower lip

I hold my breath when the tip of her finger goes under my underwear.

“Can I kiss you little one?”

I widen my eyes at the request.

I nod quickly.

She kisses me.

It's a slow kiss at first.

The lips playing with each other, the tongues coming into contact.

Her lips are soft.

The other hand, the one that is not between my legs, caresses my cheek.

Such a sweet gesture and in contrast to what she did throughout the trip.

I gasp as she moves the hand down my neck.

She smiles on my lips.

She breaks the kiss slightly.

I look at her scared, eyes open.

What if she just wanted to kiss me?

If it's not-

“Tell me you want me to stop and I'll stop — I shake my head at her, her hand still on my neck — Or tell me you want it and we'll go to my apartment.”

I nod.

I bite my lip.

I try to kiss her, but she moves her head away, the hand on my neck squeezing lightly.

I moan.

“The words little girl”

I moan loudly.

I squeeze my thighs together, her hand closed in the grip of my thighs.

“Can we go to your apartment?  Please?"

She smiles before kissing me hard.

She turns off the car and takes the keys out of the car.

I get out of the car at the same time as her and she locks it.

I start to walk to the building but she grabs my hand.

Her lips are immediately on mine, her hand caressing my cheek.

I moan when the other grabs my hip covered only by my t-shirt.

She smiles.

“So sensitive”

I bite my lip blushing while she grins openly.

Hi! This is my first fanfic and the first time that I try to write something in English that is not for school, so please be kind ahah; if you find some mistakes or if you have some advice write to me pls:)

[thesensteawitch]

IF YOU WERE A MUSE TO A POET 🍁💌

~This Is What They Would Tell You!

Pick A Pile Reading

(Left To Right- Pile 1, Pile 2, Pile 3)

Hello, Senstea Souls!💖

I hope you're doing well. Here's a collective reading about what a poet would tell you if you were their muse! ✨

TAKE A DEEP BREATH AND PICK YOUR PILE INTUITIVELY.

In case you would like to BOOK A READING with me then I am sharing the links below for the same.

BOOKING FORM 💌

RATE CARD $$$

You can also DM me in case of any query.🫶🏻

***

Pile 1

You have so many sides to you, and yet you hold space for more. I am directionless. Where should I lead this poem about you? Or where are you leading me? There’s so much to you that I want to express, but I fear I’ll end up looking like a fool. You’re like the universe—mesmerizing, intriguing, and frightening, with layers and layers of mysteries. You are divine to me. Being a poet feels like a boon when I look at you. Only fated souls get to write about someone so infinitely charming. I sense the never-ending wisdom you hold. I’d forever be your devotee if you’d let me drink just one drop of what keeps you glowing like you do. You’re sharp, kind, wild, and a dream that only slips away. Where are you looking? What inspiration do you need? Come on! You walk to your own rhythm, your shadows delightfully dancing to your beat. The sound of your steps tells me stories of places you’ve been and people you’ve met. You hold no regret, no grudge—only lessons. You think, reflect, and cry for being mistreated. But when it’s your turn, you choose to destroy the weapons that bruised you so deeply, instead of hurting others with them. The venom couldn’t kill you but made you wise. Following your footprints, I find the earth swallowing the shed skin of your old self. How can I define you when you’re constantly transforming? Every time I think I have finally known you, I find something new revealed. My hands fall short of holding your grace, my mind loses the words to portray it. As I said, you’re sharp—you’ll never let me read you. You take me to the end only to throw me into a new beginning. It’s not your fault; I understand that’s who you truly are. Sometimes, while falling asleep, I wonder who would be so lucky to fall in love with you? Or who would you fall in love with? But then again, I don’t feel you’re deprived of love, because YOU ARE love. I look at you the way others look at stars. Everyone attempts to count them at least once in their lifetime but eventually gives up, knowing it’s an attempt they will fail. But I am not tired; I am taking a break. I would like to admire you for now, knowing that maybe I too will never fully know you, but I’ll keep exploring who you are, just like scientists cannot give up on SPACE! Ah! See, I cracked something! Your lover must be someone like you—infinitely charming and holding mysteries as vast.

***

Pile 2

You know what? I am mad at you! Because either you attack or you run away. See? You just revolted back. Or perhaps hid in your closet, knowing that someone knows your little secret. You’re that 22° in astrology. Kill or be killed? You’re neither a prey nor do you need to triumph over someone or something else to keep yourself safe. All I am trying to say is that you’re not meant to just survive; you’re meant to thrive. But hey, I do see your heart. The life around it has withered, and you’re surviving on memories. For how long, may I ask? You’re not a coward; you’re afraid. I heard someone say, “The one who is capable of love is capable of being saved.” At this point, all the love is leaking from the corners of your heart. Make the best use of it, or it’ll go to waste. Life isn’t at the extremes; it’s in the middle. That’s where you find your balance. That’s where you will shine bright. I see you singing to yourself, making stories in your heart but never writing them down for the world to taste. You don’t need to say ‘NO’ to something you want. Openly say what you want and to the person who can give it to you. Don’t keep whispering your wishes into the ears of God. He’s even giving you a side-eye now, haha. You’re the leader! If you don’t take the lead, you’ll never have your pack. Do you get it? Why am I even writing about you? It seems to me that you’re an artist too. You know the depths of your pain better than I do. Gosh, you need a hug! Whoever you’ve lost in this physical world doesn’t like to see those tears rolling down your cheeks. Every time you try to make sense of your emotions, you only make your heart heavier. Love keeps dripping and draining into the river of unexpressed emotions. You’re about to be granted a new life, a restart. But this won’t be handed to you until you decide and do what you’re supposed to do. The pain demands to be felt and yada yada yada! We’ve all watched *The Fault in Our Stars*. But come on, there’s an expiry date to feeling it too. I told you, you’re an extreme case. Pain won’t leave you until you leave it. YOU DESERVE THE WORLD. And I know you don’t believe it, but from where I am seeing, all your wishes are about to come true. You’re just ONE decision away. And I am here watching and waiting for you to make that move. Go where your heart is; that’s where you’re supposed to be. Don’t run away from your destiny. Remember, you’re not the same kid who froze at the point of a horrifying sight and couldn’t do anything about it. You’re grown up now. You can HEAL yourself. You’re not hopeless or helpless. You don’t even need to find your potential; it’s just there, waiting for you to see it and accept it.

***

Pile 3

Excuse me, miss/mister? Do you even have time to read what I have to say? You’re too busy figuring things out. Huff! The amount of mental and physical work you do is commendable. Are you waiting for something or someone? I am not surprised to see your spiritual side. What side, huh? You’re SPIRITUAL—IN & OUT! You’re wise, extremely intuitive, and resourceful but haven’t learned how to avoid burnouts. Can something ever be hidden from you? From where I see, it seems you’re new here but not naive. You’ve completed a tough journey filled with passion, rage, excitement, and burnouts (again!). Life has been preparing you for something bigger than your destiny! You’re heavily protected from the forces that don’t want you to be where God is taking you. But we all know who’s more powerful, don’t we? I see you bumping into your past sometimes, but you quickly realize that’s not where you’re supposed to be. The price you would have to pay to return to the same place or people is quite heavy. You don’t feel comfortable in the old stories anymore. You’re grateful but not greedy to go back. I laugh at those who think they can lure you with temptations! Lol! You are ten steps ahead of them. Stay where you are. All this silence around you is a blessing. You’re about to win. You’re meant to win in this lifetime. This is not your first time around. I have seen you somewhere—not here, but in a different lifetime. You’ve lived all those lives to WIN in this one! The smoke of your burned karmas surrounds you. You’ve cleansed! You’re not in the dark; you’re rising from the ashes. I see the wings of a phoenix on your back. YOU’RE THE CREATOR OF YOUR OWN DESTINY. Evidence of your faith and intuition follows you in the forms of birds, butterflies, feathers, and angel numbers. One day, you may share your story, but you know that day is not today. God, you’re mysterious, and all those stories are tattooed on your skin in a language no one can decipher. Your presence is enough for people to turn around, pause, and reflect. You raise the temperature of the room and melt the ice away. People open up to you naturally. Everyone just wants to experience a drop of you. But you’re not easily accessible. Your magic is sacred and can’t be put on sale. You’re magic. The path you’ve walked on shines so bright. That’s how I trace your past life because you leave glitters behind.

[starsenha]

FIVE MORE MINUTES / P.S

Pairing ◊ idol!reader x idol!Sunghoon

Genre ◊ toe curling fluff, tiniest but suggestive if you squint

Warnings ◊ kissing, i think that's it?

Word count ◊ 1,2k

Summary ◊ You and Sunghoon were in a secret relationship as you were both idols. You had very rare moment to yourselves because of your busy schedule, so he made sure to keep you with him as long as he could.

a/n: i've been so focused on my smau, i wanted to write something light and fluffy hihi. enjoy!

It was a quiet morning; the early light filtered through the thin curtains of Sunghoon’s dorm. In the bed, wrapped snugly in his arms, you lay, your breathing slow and even as you nestled against him. You had spent the night together, something you rarely allowed yourselves to do given your demanding schedules and the secrecy you had to maintain. 

Sunghoon stirred first, his sleep-heavy eyes opening just enough to glance at you in his arms. He smiled to himself, still half dreaming as he pulled you closer. The warmth of your body against his was comforting. 

Your eyes fluttered open moments later. You felt your boyfriend’s arms tighten around you, his presence warm and grounding. A quick glance at the clock on the nightstand made your heart skip a beat. You were supposed to be up already: you had an important shoot, and Chaewon, the lead leader of your group, would kill you if you were late. 

You carefully tried to slip out of Sunghoon’s embrace, but as soon as you moved, his grip tightened, pulling you back against his chest. He let out a sleepy mumble, his voice rough . "What are you doing, princess?"

You chuckeld softly, turning to face him. His eyes were still closed, his har tousled and his lips curved into a small, lazy smile. He looked to adorable for you to resist, and you press a quick kiss to his cheek.

"Baby, I have to get up," you whispered, running your fingers gently through his hair. "I have an early shoot today, remember? If I'm late, Chae-unnie will kill me."

He groaned, burying his face in the crook of your neck, his voice muffled as he spoke. "Stay with me. I'll take care of Chaewon for you. Just five more minutes." he said, pressing a slow kiss on your neck.

You giggled, trying to wiggle free, but his hold was firm. "Five more minutes? You know that'll turn into an hour."

He finally opened his eyes, meeting your playful ones. He sighed dramatically, loosening his grip just enough to let you move but keeping you close. "Fine, fine," he relented, "but only because i don't want to deal with Chaewon being mad at you...or at me."

You rolled your eyes, as you manage to slip out of his arms, sitting up on the edge of the bed. You reached for the t shirt that had been tossed the night before, feeling his gaze on you as you did.

"Enjoying the view?" you asked over your shoulder, a playful smirk on your lips as you pulled on your shirt.

He propped himself on one elbow, his eyes twinkling what that familiar cockiness that always made your heart flutter. "You know i do," he replied smoothly. “You always look beautiful... but you’d look even better back in bed with me.”

You threw a pillow at him, laughing as he dodged it effortlessly. "We both know I can't stay."

He watched you as you continued getting dressed, a small smile playing on his lips as you hurriedly got ready. As you pulled your hair into a ponytail, you caught sunghoon's reflection in the mirror. He was still watching you, his eyes soft, filled with love.

You finished putting on your jacket, ready to leave. But of course, you couldn't leave without one last kiss. You walked over to the bed where he was still lounging. Bending down, you pressed a soft kiss to his lips, intending for it to be quick.

But Sunghoon had other ideas.

Before you could even think about straightening up, he wrapped his arms around your waist and yanked you back into bed with him, a playful grin spreading across his face as he did so. You let out a surprised yelp as you landed back on the mattress, your head resting on his chest. You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound filling the quiet room.

"Hoon!" you scolded, but anyone could feel the affection in your voice. “I really have to go. I’m already running late, and you know how Chaewon gets when I’m late!”

Sunghoon tightened his arms around you, refusing to let you go just yet. “Stay a little longer,” he murmured, his voice low and a little pouty. “Just a little.”

You sighed, rolling her eyes even though she was smiling. “You’re such a baby, you know that? If I don’t leave now, your fans will start hurdling in front of your dorm, and we both know how scary they can get.”

Sunghoon groaned at that, resting his head against yours. “Don’t remind me,” he muttered. “But your fans are just as scary, if not more.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “I’m still a rookie,” you reminded him. “I don’t have that many crazy fans yet."

Sunghoon couldn’t help but smile at your teasing, though he knew you were right. He had been in the industry longer, and with that came the kind of intense fan following that could be overwhelming. “You’ve got a point there,” he admitted, finally loosening his grip on you. “But it won’t be long before you’re just as famous, you know.”

You smiled softly at his words, but there was a hint of sadness in your eyes. You knew what he was saying was true, and while you were grateful for the support of your fans, you also knew it meant that moments like these—quiet, intimate moments where they could just be themselves—would become even rarer.

Sunghoon saw the shift in your expression and felt a pang in his chest. He didn’t want to let you go, but he knew he had to. “I’m gonna miss you,” he said quietly.

You looked up at him, your heart aching at the sadness in his eyes. You reached up to cup his face, your thumb brushing gently against his cheek. “I’m gonna miss you too,” you whispered. “But we’ll see each other again soon, okay? We always find a way.”

He nodded, though the thought of being apart from you for who knows how long weighed heavily on him. Your group was about to go on tour, and he knew your schedules would be packed, making it hard for them to find time for each other. And he knew his own schedule would be just as packed. But despite the challenges, he knew you would make it work. You always did.

“I love you,” Sunghoon said, his voice firm, as if he needed you to know just how much he meant it.

Your heart swelled at his words, and you leaned in to kiss him again, softer this time, savoring the moment. “I love you too,” you whispered against his lips. “So much.”

Finally, with one last lingering look, you stood up from the bed, this time managing to resist his attempts to pull you back in. Sunghoon sat up, watching you as you headed toward the door, his eyes following your every move.

“Text me when you’re done with your shoot, and be careful,” he called out, his voice still tinged with that earlier sadness. “I’ll be waiting.”

You turned back to him, giving him a reassuring smile. “I will. Promise.”

With that, you slipped out the door, leaving Sunghoon alone in the quiet room. He sighed, flopping back onto the bed and staring up at the ceiling, the warmth of your presence still lingering in the sheets. He already missed you, but he knew you would get through this. You always did.