#and sometimes i just need an escape from you know

[eliasmelody]

Absolutely Shameless!

LADS react to reader who have no shame when talking.

WARNING: grammar & spelling

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🐇 XAVIER:

Xavier’s eyelids get heavier as you go on about the movie, the sound of your voice lulling him closer to sleep. You’re still going, detailing plot twists and characters’ arcs, but he’s barely keeping his eyes open now. His head tilts slightly, a small yawn escaping him.

You pause, suddenly realizing what just happened. A quiet chuckle escapes you as you glance at Xavier, who’s trying to shake off the sleepiness.

"Wanna lay on my lap, baby boy?" You raise an eyebrow as you look at him.

Xavier’s eyes flicker with surprise, but then his expression darkens, the moment shifting. "Do you say this to anyone?" He asks, his tone more guarded now.

You shrug nonchalantly. "Not really. You're lucky you're cute." You say casually, as if it’s the simplest thing in the world and boop his nose.

Xavier blinks a few times, genuinely taken aback by your casual comment. His cheeks redden slightly in response, and he averts his gaze for a moment before looking back at you, his expression a mix of surprise and embarrassment.

"Cute?" He repeats incredulously with a blush. He opens his mouth to retort, perhaps to argue about you calling him 'cute', but he seems strangely speechless. 

"Yeah, yeah, adorable. Now lay down.”

"You say something like that so casually…” He mutters a complaint, but there's no real bite to it as he lays down.

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🦭 ZAYNE:

"Late for your checkup again, I see." Zayne said in his usual blunt manner, not even bothering to look up from his paperwork.

You just sit there, staring at him in silence. He shifts slightly, but you remain unmoved, your gaze steady. Neither of you speaks, the quiet stretching on. 

Finally, his voice cut through the quiet. "Hmm? What is it?"

"It looks heavy. Need me to hold it for you?" You said, your voice completely monotone, though your eyes hinted at something more.

Zayne raised an eyebrow at the sudden question. He was used to you making random comments, but even he found himself taken off guard by this one. “What...?”

You gesture toward his chest and say, "Your boobs look heavy. I can hold it for you.”

He had expected you to say something strange but that was definitely not it. Zayne's expression immediately turns flat, his eyebrows furrowing. He let out a sigh and flicked your forehead.

“Ah!” You yelp and clutch your head. “Hey.”

"You and your tactless comments..." Zayne mutters, more to himself.

He tries to keep his expression stoic, but the pink tint on his cheeks betrays him. It annoys him how you can get under his skin so easily.

“... So can I?--Whoa! Hey, I'm kidding. Put the tablet down!”

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🐠 RAFAYEL:

You lay there, bored, sprawled out on the couch, watching him intently as he focused on his art.

"You know what, Raf?" You said, setting your phone down.

With his eyes narrowed at you and his head raised to give you an arrogant look, Rafayel waited for you to continue. It was like he was about to give you a sassy reply.

"Sometimes I wish I was a guy." You said, gazing at him from upside down on the couch.

This was definitely not what he'd been expecting you to say. Not expecting at all.

Confused, he stared at you, unsure of how to respond. "Why the hell would you want that?”

"So I could make you pregnant." You said with a straight face, your voice calm and unshaken. He, on the other hand, was the complete opposite.

Rafayel choked on his own spit and coughed hard for a few moments, trying to stay calm. His cheeks, already flushed, turned bright red.

"Y-you're crazy!" He protested, moving back on the chair a little bit. "Like I'd let you do that!”

"Why not?" You grin. "I'll be gentle.”

Rafayel blushed even more. He had no idea how to respond to you when you said things like that, but he refused to give in.

"H-how could you even think of that?" He said, trying to sound defiant, but his voice was shaky. 

"You just look breedable.”

"B-breedable?!" That definitely wasn't what he'd wanted to hear. 

He covered his face in embarrassment, trying to hide his obvious arousal and reaction to your words. 

"You humans are all perverts.” He muttered, even though his cheeks were betraying him, as his skin was turning even more pink.

You couldn't help but laugh at his reaction.

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🐦‍⬛ SYLUS:

After casually stepping on one of the rooms to confirm they were really unconscious, he strides over to you, his gaze sharp and intense. He kneels down to your level, his presence imposing as he speaks.

"Hello, little kitten. Looks like you got yourself into some trouble.” He says in a low tone, a wicked smirk playing on his lips.

You pout, crossing your arms as you stay seated on the ground, looking up at him. "I can handle that.”

The man chuckles before reaching out and ruffling your hair.

"Can you now? It seems like you were in quite the sticky situation a moment ago," He says with a smirk, "A pretty little thing like you could have gotten taken advantage of real easily.”

You roll your eyes, then raise both arms toward him. "Up." You command, your voice firm yet with a hint of impatience.

The man raises an eyebrow at your command, surprised by your boldness. He lets out a low chuckle before obliging, sweeping you off your feet in one swift motion, carrying you princess-style in his arms. "Happy now?”

You hum contentedly and wrap your arm around his shoulder, leaning in playfully. "Now, to your house. I’m crashing on your bed today.”

He rolls his eyes at your demand, but doesn't complain.

"Of course you do. I can tell that you're quite a spoiled little one." He says with a smirk, carrying you down the streets.

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🍎 CALEB:

"Come on, pipsqueak. I’m not your personal chef." Caleb said, pretending to sound tired and annoyed, though his actions told a different story as he continued moving around the kitchen without missing a beat.

"What do you want for dinner then?” He reached to grab some ingredients, already having an idea in mind.

"You." You said nonchalantly.

Caleb rolled his eyes dramatically before responding. “Me.” He repeated, mimicking your casual tone. 

He was used to your nonchalance, had an uncanny ability to make even the strangest requests seem normal. He stirred the pan with a practiced ease.

You move over without a word, leaning in close to watch him cook. Your shoulder brushes lightly against his, and he can't help but notice the thinness of your shirt.

“Personal space, pipsqueak– wait, you don't wear a bra?” His heart leaped, but he quickly tried to remain nonchalant. 

"So?" You replied, your face remaining impassive.

He blinked, his fingers twitching as if to adjust your shirt, but he stopped himself.

“You just…” He tried to keep his voice steady. “Never mind.”

“Hungryyyy”

Caleb rolled his eyes, but he couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle. Your carefree and straightforward attitude was one of the things he both loved and hated. “I'm on it. Jeez!”

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[evermoreness]

moonlight and mending | remus lupin

pairing: remus lupin x reader

summary: since it's your seventh year at hogwarts, you have to choose a path for a future job, and you chose to be a healer and help madam pomfrey. you just didn't know remus lupin was a regular patient.

obs: this is going to be a series. here's part two of this story.

masterlist

The hospital wing was quiet, bathed in the soft glow of the morning light filtering through the tall windows. You were already up, sleeves rolled to your elbows as you organized a tray of healing potions. You had been helping Madam Pomfrey for a while now, and despite the occasional sleepless night, you loved every second of it.

This was where you belonged.

Every student at Hogwarts had to choose their paths on future jobs by the seventh year. Some would go with the professors to learn a specific path, like aurors or politics and others would go with Hagrid (if they had interest in magical creatures). It was fun.

You would not spend all your days at the hospital wing, since there were other students helping around Madam Pomfrey. But sometimes you would ignore this fact and just stay around for more hours than needed.

You had just finished restocking the dittany when Madam Pomfrey entered, her expression tight with concern.

“Another patient?” you asked, reaching for a clean cloth and a basin of warm water.

She nodded, already moving toward one of the empty beds. “Yes, and he’s in rough shape. A regular of mine, unfortunately.”

Before you could ask what she meant, the doors swung open, and Madam Pomfrey levitated a limp figure onto the bed.

Your breath caught in your throat.

Remus Lupin.

He looked terrible—his school robes were torn, his face pale and slick with sweat. Bruises and scratches covered his arms, and there was a deep gash along his collarbone, seeping blood onto the sheets. His hair was messier than usual, strands sticking to his forehead.

You had seen Remus around, always in the company of his friends, always with a soft smile and warm eyes. He was quieter than the other Marauders, more reserved. But this—this was a side of him you had never seen before.

“Will he be alright?” you asked, stepping closer.

Madam Pomfrey sighed. “He always is.”

She glanced at you, her sharp eyes softening slightly. “I’ll leave you to clean his wounds. Be gentle with him.”

You nodded, rolling up your sleeves further as she walked away.

Gently, you dipped the cloth into the warm water and pressed it against a cut on his cheek, dabbing away the dried blood. He stirred, a soft groan escaping his lips.

“Remus?” you said gently. “Can you hear me?”

He let out a breathy sound before his amber eyes fluttered open. They were hazy with exhaustion, unfocused at first, but as he blinked, they found yours.

“You’re awake,” you said with a small smile, hoping to reassure him.

His brows furrowed slightly. “Where…?”

“The hospital wing,” you answered, still carefully cleaning the wound on his cheek. “Madam Pomfrey brought you in.”

His eyes flickered with something unreadable before he huffed a weak chuckle. “Must be bad if I don’t even remember getting here.”

“You look like you got into a fight with a troll,” you teased lightly.

He smiled faintly. “Did I win?”

“Hard to say. The troll might be in better condition.”

That earned a soft laugh from him, though it ended in a wince.

“Stay still,” you scolded gently. “I need to clean these properly, and that won’t happen if you keep moving.”

“Alright,” he muttered with a small smile, but he did as you said.

You continued working in silence, carefully dabbing at the scratches along his arms. His body tensed slightly under your touch, but he didn’t complain.

Then, your gaze landed on the wound on his chest—a nasty gash running diagonally across his ribs, partially covered by his torn shirt. You hesitated before clearing your throat.

“Um… I need to get to the wound on your chest,” you said, a little hesitant. “Can you…?”

His tired eyes widened slightly as he realized what you meant. “Oh. Right.”

There was an awkward pause before he weakly reached for the buttons of his shirt, his fingers trembling slightly.

You quickly stopped him, your hands gently brushing his. “Here, let me.”

He stiffened under your touch but didn’t protest as you carefully undid the buttons of his bloodstained shirt. As you pushed the fabric aside, your breath hitched.

His torso was littered with scars, old and new, crisscrossing his skin like a map of past battles. The fresh wound along his ribs was deep, still oozing.

You swallowed hard, trying to push aside the questions burning in your mind. What had done this to him?

Instead of asking, you dipped the cloth in the warm water again and gently pressed it to the wound.

He hissed through his teeth.

“Sorry,” you murmured. “I know it stings.”

“It’s alright,” he said through gritted teeth. “You’re gentler than Pomfrey, at least.”

You smiled softly. “She believes in tough love.”

“That’s one way to put it,” he muttered, his voice slightly strained.

Wanting to distract him, you asked, “So, what do you usually do when you’re not getting yourself nearly killed?”

His lips twitched. “Read, mostly.”

You knew that the best way to distract the patients was by talking to them, about anything, so they could think about something else besides the pain.

“I could’ve guessed that,” you said with a small laugh. “Any favorites?”

He relaxed slightly at the question. “I like Defense Against the Dark Arts. And anything to do with magical creatures.”

“Magical creatures, huh?” You carefully applied the healing salve to his wound. “You don’t seem like the type to go wrestling with a dragon.”

He huffed a quiet laugh. “No, definitely not. But I like learning about them.”

You smiled, tying off the last bandage. “Well, you’re all patched up. Try not to move too much.”

Remus let out a long breath, his eyelids growing heavy. “You’re… really kind,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

You brushed a stray strand of hair from his forehead. “Get some rest, Remus.”

His eyes lingered on you for a moment longer before they finally closed.

And as you sat beside him, watching over him as he slept, you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more to Remus Lupin—something hidden beneath the scars and the quiet smiles.

You just didn’t know what it was yet.

The morning was long.

You didn't have any classes this morning, despite still being Tuesday.

You figured it was best to stay by his side.

At least, until lunch, because after that you would have some charms classes.

You sat beside Remus, watching over him as the hours crept by, the hospital wing bathed in moonlight and quiet. His breathing was shallow, his forehead damp with sweat. A fever had settled in not long after he had fallen asleep, and you had spent the past few hours placing cool cloths on his forehead, ensuring he didn’t overheat.

Madam Pomfrey had come in once to check on him, nodded approvingly at your dedication, and left you to it.

You didn’t mind.

There was something about watching over him—something that made you feel… protective. Maybe it was the way he had looked at you before drifting off, like he wasn’t used to someone being this kind to him.

Or maybe it was just that he seemed to carry too much weight for someone so young.

You sighed, dipping the cloth in cool water again and pressing it lightly to his forehead. He shifted slightly in his sleep, brow furrowing, but he didn’t wake.

A soft murmur left his lips—too quiet for you to catch.

You leaned closer. “Remus?”

He didn’t respond, just turned his head slightly, a faint crease between his brows. His fingers twitched where they rested by his side.

“Nightmare?” you whispered, watching his expression.

You wanted to reach for his hand, to soothe him, but you hesitated. Instead, you gently ran your fingers through his damp hair, hoping the touch might calm whatever dream he was trapped in.

Slowly, his features relaxed again.

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

And so, you sat there, watching over him, making sure he didn’t shift too much in his sleep or try to tear off the bandages in unconscious discomfort.

You kept taking care of the other students there, it was almost lunch time when your eyes glanced toward Remus—only to find his amber eyes already on you.

You came closer, staying by his side on the bed. “You’re awake.”

His lips curled slightly. “Yeah, unfortunately” His voice was rough with sleep.

You gave him a small smile. “How do you feel?”

He hesitated, as if he was actually assessing himself. “Like I got into a fight with a brick wall and lost.”

You smiled. “Well, you look better than some hours ago”

His brows lifted slightly. “Was I that bad?”

You gave him a look. “You had a fever, you were shifting in your sleep, and I had to stop you from undoing your own bandages twice.”

His eyes widened slightly. “I… did that?”

You nodded. “You don’t remember?”

“Not at all.” He looked both embarrassed and surprised. His gaze flickered toward the bowl of water and the pile of damp cloths beside it. “You stayed all morning?”

You shrugged, trying to play it off. “It’s part of the job.”

He studied you for a moment before shaking his head. “No. Madam Pomfrey would’ve done it if it was just ‘part of the job.’ You chose to stay.”

You hesitated. “…I didn’t want you to be alone.”

His breath hitched slightly. For a moment, he didn’t say anything, just looked at you as if trying to figure out how to respond.

Then, softly, “Thank you.”

Your heart warmed. “You don’t have to thank me.”

“I do,” he said, holding your gaze. “No one’s ever… done that for me before.”

The weight of his words settled between you.

You frowned slightly. “What about James? Sirius?”

“They’re great,” he said immediately, but then he hesitated. “…They don’t see this part of me. I don’t let them.”

Something in his voice made your chest tighten.

Carefully, you reached out, brushing your fingers over the bandage on his arm. “You don’t have to hide when you’re hurt, especially not from me or what else i won't know how to help.”

His breath caught, and for a long moment, he just stared at you, as if he wasn’t quite sure what to say.

Finally, he smiled—small, but real. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

You returned the smile. “Good. Now, do you think you can eat something, or do I need to force-feed you porridge?”

He chuckled. “I’ll eat. If only to avoid that fate.”

You grinned. “I’ll go get you something.”

As you walked away, you could still feel his gaze on you.

Remus was still staring at the doorway where you had disappeared when you returned, carrying a breakfast tray in both hands.

“Alright, hospital food isn’t exactly a feast, but it’s warm, and you need it,” you said as you placed the tray on his bedside table.

Remus sat up a little, wincing as he adjusted his position. He looked down at the tray—porridge, toast, and a steaming cup of tea.

You noticed his hesitation and raised an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you’re picky.”

He smirked faintly. “No, just… hospital food isn’t usually something to look forward to.”

You rolled your eyes. “Just try a little bit, alright?”

With an amused chuckle, he picked up the spoon and took a tentative bite of the porridge. It wasn’t terrible, which was the best compliment he could give it.

As he ate, you had already moved on, fussing over the other students in the ward.

“Drink more water, Gabe, you’ll feel better faster.”

“Maggie, you’re supposed to rest, not reread your Transfiguration notes.”

“Barty, don’t poke at your stitches, I swear to Merlin—”

Remus found himself watching you, a faint smile playing on his lips.

You were different.

It wasn’t just that you were kind—you loved this. He could see it in the way you moved, the way you spoke to everyone, the way you cared. It was like second nature to you, tending to people, making sure they were comfortable.

And yet… you were also a normal student. That much was obvious.

It hit him suddenly—he’d seen you around before. Not just in passing, but in the places he liked best. The library, tucked away in the quietest corners, flipping through thick medical textbooks and advanced Potions guides. The Astronomy Tower, where the view was the clearest. The courtyard, always with a book in your hands.

You weren’t just here. You were everywhere.

How did you balance it all?

Remus was still lost in thought when a hand appeared in front of his face.

He blinked and looked up.

You were standing there, a familiar-looking chocolate bar in your hand.

“Madam Pomfrey sent this,” you said with a smile. “She said it would help you feel better.”

Something warm settled in his chest.

He took the chocolate from you, running his fingers over the wrapper before glancing up at you. “She actually let you give it to me instead of forcing it on me herself?”

“She’s busy,” you said, shrugging. “But I think she knows I’d make you eat it either way.”

Remus chuckled, unwrapping the chocolate and breaking off a piece. As soon as it melted on his tongue, he sighed.

“Better?” you asked, tilting your head.

“Much,” he admitted.

You smiled in satisfaction before sitting on the edge of his bed. “So… I have a question.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

You leaned in slightly, lowering your voice like you were sharing a secret. “How do you do it?”

Remus blinked. “Do what?”

“Everything,” you said, gesturing vaguely. “I mean, you’re top of the class, always reading, and somehow, you still have time to get into whatever mischief your friends drag you into.”

Remus smirked. “I could ask you the same thing.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m serious.”

He considered you for a moment before shrugging. “I guess… I don’t really think about it. I just do what I need to do.”

You hummed thoughtfully. “Yeah. That sounds about right.”

There was a comfortable silence between you.

Then, Remus glanced down at the chocolate in his hand. “You know… I’ve never had someone take care of me like this before.”

You tilted your head, curious. “Not even your friends?”

He hesitated. “They try. But I don’t let them.”

“Why not?”

His fingers tightened slightly around the wrapper. “Because… I don’t want them to worry.”

You frowned. “That’s a terrible reason.”

He huffed a soft laugh. “Maybe.”

You would say something else, but some other patient called. You smiled before turning around and going around to help others.

Hours later, the hospital wing was quieter. Most of the students had left, and Remus, finally feeling somewhat human again, was sitting on the edge of his bed, stretching his sore limbs.

You stood in front of him, holding a neatly folded set of fresh Hogwarts robes.

“Well, you look better,” you observed. “Still a bit pale, though.”

“I’m always pale,” he said dryly, though he smirked.

“Fair point,” you said, handing him the uniform. “Come on, get changed. You can’t walk around looking like you just wrestled a hippogriff.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You say that as if it’s a bad thing.”

You smiled, rolling your eyes playfully. “Just change, Lupin.”

He chuckled but stood, wincing slightly as he moved. You turned around, giving him privacy as he carefully removed the old ripped uniform he was using from earlier, and pulled on his new uniform. His movements were slow, careful not to aggravate his still-healing injuries.

After a few moments, he let out a small sigh. “Alright. You can turn around.”

You turned, scanning him critically before nodding in approval. “Much better.”

“You sound like Madam Pomfrey,” he said, amused.

You gasped in mock horror. “Take that back!”

“Never.”

You huffed but smiled, grabbing your bag from the chair. You had already changed into your uniform earlier, ready to head to class. “Come on, I’ll walk with you.”

Remus blinked in surprise. “You don’t have to—”

“I know,” you said, giving him a pointed look. “But I want to.”

His lips parted slightly, but no argument came.

He liked your company.

So, instead of protesting, he simply nodded. “Alright then. Lead the way, healer”

You rolled your eyes at the nickname but walked beside him as you both left the hospital wing.

The corridors were bustling with students heading to their next classes. You and Remus walked side by side, keeping a comfortable pace.

“So,” you started, adjusting the strap of your bag, “what’s your favorite class?”

Remus hummed. “That’s an easy one—Defense Against the Dark Arts.”

You grinned. “I should’ve guessed. You do always get top marks in it.”

He shrugged. “It’s practical. Useful.”

“Okay, but what about for fun?” you asked, tilting your head. “Not just what’s useful—what do you enjoy?”

He hesitated, then said, “I like Charms.”

You brightened. “Me too! It’s so satisfying when you finally get a spell just right.”

“Exactly,” he said, nodding. “And you?”

“Besides Charms? I love Potions,” you said. “It’s precise, methodical… and it helps with Healing. I like that.”

Remus smiled. “That makes sense. You’re really good at it.”

You looked at him, surprised. “You noticed?”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Well… yeah. I mean, you’re always top of the class, and I have seen you brewing in the library before.”

You chuckled. “Guilty. I like experimenting.”

“What’s the best potion you’ve made?”

You thought for a moment. “Probably a modified Wiggenweld Potion. I adjusted it to work faster without causing side effects.”

Remus raised his eyebrows, impressed. “That’s incredible.”

You shrugged, but his praise made you warm inside.

“What about books?” you asked. “I know you’re a reader.”

He smirked. “What gave it away?”

You laughed. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe the fact that I always see you in the library with your nose buried in a book?”

He chuckled. “Fair enough. I like anything about magical creatures, honestly.”

You nodded. “I can see that. You seem like the type to befriend a werewolf or something.”

Remus nearly tripped.

You didn’t notice, continuing, “I love medical books, obviously. But for fun? I like Muggle literature.”

He recovered quickly, forcing himself to focus. “Muggle literature?”

“Yeah,” you said, grinning. “There’s this Muggle author—Stephen King. Have you heard of him?”

Remus’s eyes lit up. “I have! The shining is brilliant.”

Your jaw dropped. “You’ve read it?”

He smirked. “I grew up in a half-Muggle household. My mum had loads of Muggle books.”

“Oh, I love that,” you said excitedly. “Okay, tell me—what do you think of Jack Torrance?”

Remus chuckled. “Misunderstood, the man was literally being controlled by evil spirits”

You gasped dramatically. “Correct answer. I knew I liked you, Lupin.”

Remus blinked, caught off guard, but you just laughed, nudging him playfully.

He laughed too, shaking his head. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this light.

Before he knew it, you had reached your classroom.

You stopped at the door, turning to face him. “Well, this is me.”

He nodded, suddenly wishing you had a further walk.

“Thanks for walking with me,” you said with a smile. “And take care of yourself, okay?”

Something about the way you said it made his chest tighten.

He nodded. “You too.”

With a final smile, you turned and disappeared into the classroom.

Remus stood there for a moment before shaking his head with a quiet chuckle.

Then, with thoughts of you still swirling in his mind, he dragged himself to his own class, already looking forward to the next time he saw you.

Getting closer.

The days passed, and somehow, without either of you truly realizing it, you and Remus had begun to gravitate toward each other.

It wasn’t a conscious decision—at least, that’s what Remus told himself.

At first, it was small things.

You’d see each other in the library, sitting a few tables apart, until one of you would move closer—always under the excuse of needing a book the other was using.

You’d pass each other in the halls, exchanging small smiles, sometimes stopping for a brief chat about classes, assignments, or whatever book you were reading that week.

Remus, always more reserved, didn’t say much in the beginning. He would listen as you talked, and surprisingly, he never got tired of hearing you speak. You had this way of filling the silence without overwhelming it.

And what fascinated him the most?

You never got bored of him.

Most people—besides his closest friends—didn’t have the patience for his quiet nature, for his habit of getting lost in thought, for the way he preferred books over crowds. But you never seemed to mind.

If anything, you enjoyed talking to him.

And Remus liked listening to you.

Slowly but surely, Remus began seeking you out.

If he saw you in the Great Hall, he’d wave you over. If you passed each other in the corridors, he’d slow his steps so you could walk together. If he spotted you alone in the common room, he’d sit beside you, pulling out a book without a word.

And you? You found yourself looking for him, too.

One evening, you sat at your usual table in the library, a thick Potions book open in front of you. You were muttering ingredients under your breath, trying to memorize an antidote recipe, when a familiar figure slid into the seat across from you.

“You talk to your books a lot,” Remus observed, setting his own book down.

You looked up, smirking. “And yet, you still sit with me. What does that say about you?”

He chuckled. “That I’m patient?”

“Or that you secretly enjoy my rambling.”

He shrugged, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “Maybe.”

You grinned, flipping a page. “What are you reading?”

“Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them,” he said, holding up the book.

You raised an eyebrow. “Planning on running off to become a Magizoologist?”

“Not quite,” he said, amused. “I just like creatures.”

You hummed, tilting your head. “If you could be any magical creature, what would you be?”

He hesitated for a second. “A werewolf.”

You blinked, surprised. “A werewolf?”

He nodded slowly, studying your face. “Yeah. They’re misunderstood. People assume they’re just mindless monsters, but… they’re not.”

You frowned slightly, considering his words. “You’re right. They don’t choose to be that way.”

Remus swallowed hard, watching you carefully. “You don’t think they’re evil?”

You shook your head. “Of course not. I think… I think most of them are probably just scared. And lonely.”

Something in Remus’s chest ached. He had never heard anyone say that before.

“You’re… different,” he said softly.

You gave him a curious look. “Different how?”

He shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. “You just… are.”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “That’s a very vague answer, Lupin.”

He chuckled. “It’s the best you’re getting.”

You sighed dramatically. “Fine. But I’ll figure it out eventually.”

“I’m sure you will.”

You eyed him suspiciously but let it go. “Well, I’d be a phoenix.”

Remus raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“They heal people,” you said simply. “And they always come back.”

He stared at you for a moment, something unreadable in his expression. Then, quietly, “That suits you.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the softness in his voice.

For a brief second, neither of you spoke.

Then, he cleared his throat, turning his attention back to his book. “You were mumbling potion ingredients earlier. Studying for something?”

You exhaled, shaking off the strange warmth in your chest. “Yes. Madam Pomfrey’s quizzing me tomorrow, and I cannot mix up the bezoar antidotes again.”

Remus smirked. “Do you want me to test you?”

Your eyes lit up. “Would you?”

He nodded, and for the next hour, he quizzed you, throwing in the occasional joke just to make you laugh.

The Marauders.

Of course, being friends with Remus meant that you were friends with the Marauders now.

One evening, you sat cross-legged on the Gryffindor common room floor, surrounded by parchment and books. Remus sat beside you, his own notes scattered around. Across from you, James Potter and Sirius Black were sprawled on the couch, watching you both with lazy amusement. Peter Pettigrew sat on the armrest, nibbling on a biscuit.

“So, let me get this straight,” James said, stretching his arms behind his head. “You spend your free time—voluntarily, I might add—working in the hospital wing?”

You looked up from your parchment, raising an eyebrow. “Yes.”

“And you enjoy it?”

“Yes.”

James exchanged a look with Sirius, who smirked. “Merlin’s beard, Moony, you’ve found your twin.”

Remus rolled his eyes. “Because enjoying something that requires effort is such a crime?”

“No, but we just assumed no one else was as much of a workaholic as you,” Sirius teased.

You snorted. “I love what I do, thank you very much.”

Peter perked up. “Does that mean you’re good at Potions?”

“She’s brilliant,” Remus answered before you could, flipping a page in his book.

Sirius grinned. “Oh, that’s good to know.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Why?”

James leaned forward, an eager look in his eyes. “Because we need a potioneer for our next prank.”

You stared at him. “You want me to help you prank people?”

“Yes,” Sirius said smoothly, “because you’re cool.”

Remus made a sound like he was choking on his own breath. “Cool?”

James ignored him. “Think about it. You brew us something—nothing harmful, just a little mischief—and we execute it.”

You tilted your head, considering. “Would this be used on everyone or just specific people?”

“Filch,” Peter answered immediately. “And Snivellus.”

You hummed. “No harm, no permanent damage?”

James put a hand over his heart. “On my honor.”

You smirked. “I could make an odorless dye potion that only reacts to moonlight.”

Sirius gasped in delight. “That’s genius.”

“Imagine Snape walking around, thinking nothing’s wrong, and then—BAM—his face turns green under the full moon,” James cackled.

You smiled sweetly. “You’ll owe me chocolate.”

Sirius clapped his hands together. “Deal.”

Remus sighed, looking at you with an exasperated but amused expression. “You do realize you’re enabling them?”

“Oh, I know,” you said innocently. “But it’s fun.”

James grinned. “She’s one of us now, Moony.”

Remus looked at you, then at them, then sighed again, rubbing his temple. “Merlin help us all.”

[crimsoncandy04]

Have u ever thought of Scara w tentacles😳 like he was an experiment and we are the one in charged of cater for him, then one day he escape and take us with him to breed cause' he really likes us... Idk if it's possible but might lay eggs for him. Please try writing it one day!! Tysm for those fics u feed uso(≧▽≦)o

I should really check my inbox more often than I do. This is literally such a hot idea.

(also just a heads up, I'm absolutely blasted right now while writing this so if it's not perfect I'm so sorry. Cannabis gummies are a double edged sword for me. On one hand I get the BEST ideas to write but then on the other I forget how words work)

Hope you like it;)

You had seen some weird stuff in your 25 years. It was expected though. You WERE working for the fatui and under one of the more deranged harbingers known for fucked up experimentation too.

However, being put in charge of one of the less important projects involving the sixth harbinger had proven to be more than you were prepared to handle.

A LOT more.

You had no idea why he allowed this to happen or if it was just a bizarre side effect of another failed experiment. But one thing was for certain, the sixth harbinger had been altered physical and now needed to be restrained at all costs. He had actual tentacles growing from his back. Like REAL ones. And for some reason they seemed to have minds of their own at times.

Thrashing around and hitting the thick glass of the containment room as if trying to break out while the young man at their base sat on the cold concrete ground and refused to look at you each time you went over to slide him food through a small opening in the wall that your hand could barely fit through.

You weren't important enough to know the details of what went on in your boss's lab but you had to admit that the sentient tendrils were a bit pretty to look at.

They were a deep indigo. Almost black with small barely discernable silver accents along the sides.

They appeared almost metallic in the right lighting and you had to make yourself look away and stop staring sometimes because you didn't want to be rude.

You were here to complete a job and that was all.

Until the night everything went to shit of course.

You were summoned sometime after midnight along with two other subordinates to check the lab for accidents after a security alarm was triggered for unknown reasons.

You rushed in and immediately you felt your blood go cold at the sight before you.

He had escaped.

Shattered glass lay at your feet as well as blood presumably from the guard who was now nowhere to be seen and most certainly dead.

You heard a yell from the room next to you.

"Stay here!" The other man with you insisted as he drew his gun and took off after the source of the cry.

You didn't need to be told twice.

Because right now you were confused but also rightfully scared.

What happened to the sixth harbinger? He never once gave you reason to believe he was distressed or restless before. He never even spoke to you when you fed him and checked the condition of his holding room.

Did you perhaps miss something?

What caused him to suddenly lash out and attack the guard?

And most importantly what happened to-

*PLOP*

You hear something hit the ground next to you and slowly turn your head to look.

You shriek.

On the ground next to you was the decapitated head of the subordinate who had just left to search for the other man.

You immediately tried to run but were stopped in your tracks as something wrapped around your waist and hoisted you into the air.

You tremble and go silent. Preparing for the worst when you look down and meet eyes with the sixth harbinger.

One of his many new appendages coiled around your middle and rendering you helpless as you silently prayed to every archon you could remember that if you were to die here it would be quick and painless.

He narrows his eyes up at you.

"You. You didn't want to try killing me as well?"

You struggle to answer as you shake violently.

"No sir. I see you nearly every day. I assumed something was wrong and that you were seeking help. I didn't feel like it was right to murder you."

"Are you scared?"

You felt your heart race.

Something about his tone seemed off. Different.

Did he...enjoy the fact that you were clearly terrified?

You closed your eyes and sighed.

Alright.

Every life had its end. This was surely yours.

Don't think about it. Go to your safe place Y/N.

You suddenly feel more tentacles slither around your arms and legs.

You immediately open your eyes as you feel them spread your knees apart.

What the FUCK!?

There's a chuckle from underneath you.

"I must admit... I am enjoying your terror immensely."

Obviously.

You feel an indigo tendril slowly slide up your shirt and wiggle underneath your bra. coiling around one of your breasts and squeezing it roughly as you feel your cheeks grow warm with embarrassment. It was cold and slimy but thanks to what you assumed was the natural power of the young man before you, the tentacles emitted a gentle electro current throughout their entire lengths and the sensation caused the muscles in your limbs and stomach to relax unwillingly as you were fondled.

The entire stimulation was now sending jolts of unwilling arousal through you. Scaramouche's eyes darken as he feels your nipple stiffen against one of his slick, muscular coils which had wrapped itself tightly around one of your tits and was now rubbing its head against your delicate peak. Making you struggle to stay quiet.

"Your body is betraying you. How does it feel existing in such a delicate and worthless form? I'm not even trying yet-."

Another tendril snakes up your thigh, sliding beneath your skirt, the cool slickness a shock against your bare skin as you didn't expect this so quickly. It inches higher, brushing against your clothed sex.

Scaramouche chuckles darkly at your soft whimpers then, his voice a sinful caress in your aroused mind as you're made to enjoy this against your will.

"I can still feel you with these. You're so wet already. Does it feel good being teased in such a disgraceful manner? Or were you always this much of a slut?"

He grins wickedly, a predatory gleam in his indigo eyes. The tendrils tighten their grip, squeezing and kneading your most sensitive places, stoking the fire within your core. The air crackles with his power and reeks of your excitement.

A small tentacle hooks into the waistband of your panties and suddenly rips them off completely, baring your glistening sex to the cool air. Another one quickly begins to rub against your slick folds, teasing your wet entrance.

"What a cute little hole~ hmm. I wonder what would happen if I-"

The thick tentacle at your entrance instantly rams itself inside in one painful push, stretching your tight pussy and curling in to rub against your sweet spot as it began to thrust quickly. You could only gasp and cry out as you felt another tentacle slither up your thigh and rub your clit at the same time.

Your eyes widened.

It hurt yet it felt like you had ascended to Celestia all at once.

You force yourself to cry out before you went insane.

"S-Scara! Please! It's too big! You're... stretching me!"

Scaramouche smirks up at your quivering body as he feels your tight walls clenching desperately around his invading tendril. He grinds it deeper, relishing your breathy moans and gasps, the electric current making your body shudder with every caress and thrust.

"Too big? Ha. Your greedy little cunt is taking every inch like it was made for it. Like it was made for me."

He pulls back slightly, then slams the tentacle in deeper. The wet squelching sounds of the violation fill the room, mingling with your increasingly wanton moans and whimpers.

"Listen to yourself, enjoying the feeling of being so ruthlessly defiled. You can't deny your true nature Y/N. You're a weak and disposable creature. I've seen how you go out of your way to try and care about me. How you act so..."selfless" and "considerate" when forced to tend to me knowing damn well it was all only to delude yourself into believing you were making a difference. Tell me, was it tiring?"

Tendrils squeeze your breasts harder, the electric shocks making your nipples stiffen into aching peaks. Another then pushes into your mouth, silencing your cries and leaving you gasping around the slick intrusion.

"It must have been exhausting. Pretending like you actually cared so much. Did you enjoy your little charade? Was it nice pretending like you weren't worth less than the dirt on my shoes because you were "helping "?"

Scaramouche's voice is a dark, lustful growl as he crosses his arms and continues to watch as his tentacles ruin you. The tendril pistoning into your cunt speeds up, the electric shocks growing stronger, pushing you closer and closer to a reluctant release.

"Come for me, Y/N. Come on my tentacles like the wanton slut you are. You wanted something like this right? To be seen and "loved"? Well let go then."

As Scara speaks, another tentacle snakes down to your puckered rear entrance. It teases the tight ring of muscle, the electric current making it relax. Slowly it pushes inside, stretching your virgin hole around the slick invader.

"Such a tight little asshole... I will enjoy breaking this in as well. You'll be my perfect little fuck toy, ready and eager for me at all times. How does that sound?"

The tentacle in your mouth begins fucking deeper into your throat, making you gag and choke a little. The one in your ass pushes deeper, stretching you impossibly further now as everything borders on pleasure and pain now in an overwhelming way.

"That's it, just like that. Take it all. Take every inch, every inch of my desire. You'll learn to crave this, to need this, to be nothing but a set of holes for me to fill and use. I'll give you a purpose. A reason to exist. Just like you always wanted."

Scaramouche's eyes blaze with sadistic lust as he watches you try to writhe and struggle, your body shaking with unwanted pleasure, your mind clouding with shame and need. He knows he has you now, knows that he can shape you, mold you, ruin you for all others.

And it's driving him insane.

You had caught his attention long ago but of course you were too stupid to notice. You always thought his tentacles were just being "aggressive". No. He had been trying to get you to say something to him. But every time you just stared at him, gave him a stupid little tray of food that he didn't even need. And then just left.

You couldn't blame him for getting a little frustrated and impatient. You had practically forced him to make the first move here.

A couple of minutes went by and suddenly you feel something else being stuffed into your stretched cunt alongside the enormous tentacle already buried inside.

Two smaller and practically microscopic sized tentacles wiggle in and begin to tease your cervix opening. Slowly coaxing their way into your womb as you feel yourself climaxing from the intrusion.

The tentacles writhe and squirm in your womb, painting your inner walls with their slick, tingling essence.

You suddenly feel a deep pressure as something is pumped directly into your womb. You wince and cum again as Scara begins to forcibly impregnates you with his offspring yet instead of your earlier nervousness or shame, you now feel oddly at ease. As if your new reality finally set in for you.

It was kinda enjoyable.

Scaramouche chuckles darkly as he feels your womb trying instinctively to reject his eggs. But the tendrils hold fast, forcing the small yet soft jelly-like lavender eggs deeper, stretching your most intimate space to its limits.

You had finally accepted your place it seemed. Utilizing your body's full potential from here would be far more easy with you now more willing to endure the process and transformation.

The tendrils continue their relentless assault, pumping more and more of the eggs into you, each one a cruel mockery of a seed, a promise of the countless times he will fill you after this as well. You had one purpose now. To be used, bred like a bitch in heat. All for the singular goal of birthing a new army for Scaramouche and his future plans.

You were important for this reason alone.

"Welcome to your new life, mortal. Welcome to eternity as my personal fuck toy, my breeding bitch, my eternal plaything. And you will love every moment of it. I promise."

A few hours pass and your belly swells quickly. During this short incubation period Scara manages to stretch your holes even further almost to the point of beyond recognition. Three tentacles now thrusted in and out of your ruined asshole and Scara had decided to reposition you both to keep an eye on you and to jam another thick tentacle deep into your pussy and continue to ravage it while he silently marveled at your swollen belly from where he now stood over you.

His hands roam possessively over the stretched skin of your stomach. He can feel the eggs he's planted inside you, each one a testament to his dark triumph, a promise of the future that he envisioned where he was untouchable by absolutely anyone. God or human alike.

"Look at you, already so round and full. And this is only the beginning, my dear. I will fill you again and again, until you know nothing but the feeling of carrying my offspring."

He leans down, his lips brushing against the taut skin of your stomach, his voice a dark, mocking murmur.

"Such an easy bitch to breed, so quick to take my eggs, to let them take root inside you. I knew from the moment I saw you that you were meant to be my incubator, my vessel. And now, here you are, already looking like a proper mother~"

The tentacles continue their relentless assault, stretching you impossibly further, The one now sucking on your clit pulses in time with your racing heartbeat, pushing you to yet another orgasm.

More tendrils move to your heavy, aching breasts again, squeezing and kneading the swollen flesh. They latch onto your nipples, suckling greedily, the electric currents making milk drip faster as it's quickly consumed.

More time goes by. You aren't sure how much exactly but then.

You feel movement in your belly and an uncomfortable shift as the eggs begin to hatch within you. The tentacles in your pussy immediately slide free and smaller ones seize your battered lips before rudely pulling on them to reveal your now loose and sloppy canal in its entirety.

Within seconds a small writhing indigo tentacle pushes its way out of your cervix and begins its descent.

Scaramouche's eyes widen with a fevered, manic light as he watches the first of his offspring emerge and fall to the floor with a small thud. He leans in closer, his breath coming faster as he watches the next little and writhing indigo tentacle push its way out, covered in fluids and its own natural secretions, a grotesque parody of a newborn.

"Look at that... your womb was actually able to grow these things without issue, your body has given life to my creation. I knew I made no mistake when I chose you for this."

The tentacles in your ass begins to writhe and pulse at that moment, easily pulling free from your body to make room for more of the "children " to emerge. Within seconds they start slipping out of your abused holes like nightmarish serpents and forming a horrific pile beneath your deflated body. Their movements are jerky and erratic, their beautiful flesh glistening in the dim light as they slowly start to slither up your legs in search of the warmth they once knew moments ago.

"Such a good mother, so efficient in your purpose. I knew from the moment I saw you that you were meant for this. And now, look at you... a true incubator, an ideal vessel for what is to come."

Scaramouche reaches down, his fingers brushing against the writhing mass of tentacles, stroking them like a proud parent would a newborn. They pulse and twitch at his touch, as if recognizing their creator, their master.

"They will be the first of many, the vanguard of a new age, a new era of power and dominance."

Your belly continues to churn from inside, more of the eggs hatching, more of the small tentacle creatures slipping out to join their brethren. The floor quickly fills with their jerking, twisting forms, a nightmarish scene.

Scaramouche's maniacal laughter then rings out, echoing off the walls, a sound of pure, unhinged joy at his dark triumph. He knows that he has won. Because with this plan now in action, no one would be able to oppose him for long.

And the world would be his for the taking.

[multiversediaries]

at last

bucky barnes x reader

summary: after months apart, bucky finally came home.

warnings: soft!!!!!! soft buck!

masterlist

“y/n? i’m back." you heard someone say loudly. you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. you lived alone, well, sometimes. you were james barnes' wife. you had met him a long time ago, you were always there for him, and he was deadly in love with you. he cared so deeply about you. if something were to happen to you, he'd lose his mind. which is why he decided to hide your marriage, to keep you out of danger's way. you walked towards your front door, wondering who it was. your eyes light up as you saw your husband standing in front of you.

"hey, doll." bucky said smiling, genuinely smiling, as he took you into his strong arms. behind him, were the avengers, all of them. they were currently in a mission, that was supposed to take a while, which was the reason you were so surprised to see your husband back at your shared house.

"what's happening?" you heard tony say, confused at the sight of you two. you giggled a bit, pulling away from your hug. bucky smiled at you, taking in how gorgeous you looked. he wrapped his hand around your waist.

"i'm sorry i didn't let you know in advance, but we needed a place where we couldn't be tracked." bucky said, his voice as soft as always. you noticed the confused faces whilst your husband spoke to you as he has always done, soft and incredibly sweetly. you nodded, softly humming in response, a big smile planted on your lips, understanding him.

"alright, robocop, spill. where are we and who's the lovely woman?" tony asked, making your cheeks flush softly. you heard bucky sigh. you rubbed his back gently.

"she's bucky's wife, tony." steve said, gaining your attention. you smiled at him, he chuckled at you. "it's nice to see you again, y/n." he said, leaning over to hug you. you instantly hugged him back, squeezing him gently. steve was present at your wedding. you couldn't help but smile at tony's reaction. everyone always reacted the same way about your marriage to james. it sometimes made your heart ache. because how could so many people think that he's unloveable?

"wife?" natasha spoke in surprise, as you looked at her. you knew nat. you were a widow. you escaped a few years after she did. you gave her a hug as well, glad to see she was doing well. "you didn't tell me you got married. i must admit, my feelings are hurt." she sad, pouting, you laughed.

"it was my idea. i just- i didn't want her in any danger." bucky said, as you looked back up at your husband. you smiled at him, his hand tracing circles on your skin. natasha nodded.

"well, come inside." you said softly, walking into your living room, everyone following behind you. they all took seats around your couch. you walked up to your bathroom, grabbing your first aid kit, as you saw some of them were injured.

"everything alright?" you said gently, as you sat across from tony, who had a few cuts on his face. bucky stood by the door frame, as he watched you.

"it just got complicated." steve said, sighing. you nodded, not wanting to intrude. you began cleaning tony's wounds, earning a few hisses from him. you tried to be as gentle as possible.

"i'm sorry, i just don't get it." tony said, breaking the silence, looking at you. you tilted your head in confusion, as you applied a band aid on his small cut. "how can someone like you be married to him?" he asked cockily. you laughed a bit at his words. you knew tony and bucky were not in a good place, after all, the winter soldier was responsible for his parents' deaths. but that wasn't bucky's fault.

"because you only know the winter soldier, but i know james barnes." you simply said, moving onto clint's injuries. bucky couldn't help but smile at your words. that was something he loved about you, how unashamed you were to love him. even after everything he had done, you wouldn't leave his side. he felt so undeserving of you.

after cleaning all of their wounds, you prepared some food for them. you wanted to help as much as you could, and it just felt so nice to have people around. you didn't have many friends apart from bucky, steve and natasha. you smiled as you watched the avengers dine, talking over their mission as you cleaned the dishes. you felt someone's hand wrap around you. you smiled, almost instantly.

"i missed you, darling." bucky said, planting a sweet kiss to your neck. you smiled widely, turning around to face him. you wrapped your arms around his torso, hugging his body close to yours.

"i missed you even more, barnes. have you been doing alright?" you asked softly, your hands now laying in his cheeks, caressing his gorgeous features. you had spent so much time apart from him. almost three months apart. you felt empty without your other half. he nodded, kissing your forehead.

"i'm okay. i just want to be here with you." he said softly. your hands ran to now caress his back, as you looked up at bucky.

"i know, baby. but they need you. and honestly, you need them too." you said, leaning up to kiss his jaw. he nodded, before planting a sweet peck to your lips. he walked back towards your dining table, and continued the conversation about their mission.

it was very late at night already. all of the guys were resting. you had a lot of empty rooms, so you were able to offer a room to every single one of them. you wanted them to be comfortable, after everything they had gone through lately. you yawned softly as you waited for bucky on your shared bed. he walked out of the bathroom, drying his wet hair on a towel. you smiled at him, you couldn't believe he was back. he sat by the end on the bed and just looked at you. you smiled at him, before standing up, to help him off his prosthetic arm.

"it's alright, doll. maybe i should keep it on." he said, staring up at you as you stood right in front of him. you placed both your hands on his face.

"you're home, buck. you're safe." you said lightly, earning a shaky breath to leave his mouth. he wrapped his arms around your hips, hugging you. your hands ran to his soft hair, before planting a sweet kiss on his head.

"for the first time in a while, i was scared, y/n." you heard bucky say, you listened to his every word, as you played with his hair. "i was terrified of not coming back to you." he said, his arms tightening around you, earning a frown from you.

"james.." you said softly, trying your hardest to find his eyes. he was scared, you could tell. you wonder what had happened to have him this shaken up.

"it's just so much worse than we thought.. i'm not sure we'll be able to do something about it." he said, now looking up to meet your gorgeous eyes. you sighed softly.

"you'll be okay, my love. you will all be okay." you said, as you felt his hands pulling you even closer to him, as if he needed to feel you close. "i don't know the extent of what's happening, but i do know one thing. you guys are the earth's mightest heroes. it's alright to have doubts, but don't let them control you. you may not know what to do right now, but you will soon enough." you said, one of your hands running to his check to caress his beautiful face. "we all need a break sometimes. take this time to rest, and reflect. and a solution will come to you. but for now, rest, baby." you finished. he sighed and nodded. you always knew what to say.

"gosh, doll. i have missed you so much. being apart from you is torture." he said, now letting go of your waist. you smiled widely, kissing him lovingly, before helping him take off his arm. you placed it on the case and walked back to him, you placed a kiss to his shoulder, climbing back to bed once again.

bucky followed you to bed, laying his head on your chest. your hand ran to his hair, your fingers getting lost into his brown hair. bucky’s arms wrapped around your waist, hugging you as close as he possible could. you placed small kisses to his head and forehead, as your gentle giant fell asleep peacefully in your arms.

at last. he was home.

[dinkerr]

thinking about vi as your wife ♡ (multiple recs put into one, nsfw under cut)

wife vi who cooks for you everyday. it's one of her love languages, taking time out of her day to make yours better with something she made for you. she has many cook books in her nerd collection, every recipe in there has been made by her and she's written down her overall rating of each recipe on every page. mention it to her momma and she'll show you videos of pow and vi making cheese toasties together my shaylas 🙁

wife vi who can't let go of you in the mornings. she is a super heavy sleeper and it doesn't matter what either of you have to do today, how important your job is or who you have plans to see. she WILL be hiding her face into your neck with her leg slung over you, or will be tucking you, the blanket and her childhood bunny plushie into her chest. especially when it's winter. you literally can't escape her.

wife vi who is never seen not wearing her ring and gives you the most baffled look when you're not wearing yours.

wife vi who pulls up in her 1966 cherry red ford mustang to pick you up, her ring shining from the reflection against the sun with i just died in your arms by cutting crew (DON'T laugh at me) playing and her heart shaped lips curling up into a smile when she sees your pretty face before you lean over to give her kisses.

wife vi who is good at art and buys and makes you gifts and gift baskets like this or this or this every time she feels like it. it doesn't even need to be valentines or your birthday or any occasion, she just wants to give.

wife vi who wants a rottweiler with you so fucking bad (to have a baby with you, and to protect you when shes not around even if you can handle yourself) but she knows that they're a massive responsibility and alot of work needs to be put into dogs, so you two settle on rescuing an old kitty from a shelter, a ginger one with a few missing teeth and sass as bad as vi's. his name is screwdriver. screwdriver sleeps in bed with you two every night.

wife vi who would lowkey be your house wife if you made big money... i can't stop thinking about this.

wife vi who would fall asleep on the couch like a dad while watching tv with you almost every single night, and when she's not doing that she's most definitely 110% passing out after you eat her pussy after you two finish dinner.

wife vi who is super into public sex because she likes the idea of it and also just needs you all the time that she should be locked away.

wife vi who would beg for you to let her eat you out under a table of in the bathroom of her dads bar when you're sitting in the car outside and about to go in, or would press the softest little kisses to your jaw, giving you her puppy eyes and asking you if you can put a vibrator on her clit when you two are about to leave the house.

wife vi who loves shower sex. sometimes when you two can't see eachother alot because you two leave for work at different times, both get home late and sometimes there just isn't enough time to fuck like how you both want. so she starts tongue fucking your pussy when you're washing your hair, and you do the exact same when she's washing hers!!

wife vi who's ceo of giving you back messages in the bath after sex. she's got you on her lap, face resting on her chest while her skilled hands search for your sore muscles, massaging the knots out when you press kisses to her collarbone.

this isnt very freaky pls don't kill me i'm just tired and need a lobotomy. but if you do want more freaky shit with wife vi lmk (mischievously rubs hands together 😈) i just know this is gonna flop miserably

@h0neymiel

[buubonita]

This is too messy but no worries i will try to explain the connections and I ADDED the "its complicated" label because i can and relationships can be and are soooo pretty complicated sometimes and your perspective of that person can always change like the weather,, or in fact, they have a dynamic that is difficult for me to explain personally.

Lets start nyao! oh boy this is LONG.

Nightmare & Dream: its complicated. They have mixed feelings all the time, there are times when they genuinely can't stand each other, but their family love remains intact, only sometimes, living together is difficult. I dont think Nightmare hates Dream genuinely, just for moments, and i am speaking more from someone who haves a twin.

I'm not saying that the situation is the same because my brother and I are not at war, lol, I'm saying that disagreeing and fighting with the person with whom you have shared memories and time since the cradle is a constant.

Dream & Blue & Ink: Found Family & friends. I just like to think that they, rather than a poly like fans insist, function more like an imperfect but still functioning family.

Dream & Ink: Friends/It's complicated. Dream and Ink have mainly disenchanted ideals, but they can coexist without resentment. I think they care about each other.

Ink & Error: enemies/frenemies. Self-explanatory.

Error, Geno & Fresh: family found. I love to think that the three of them have an inexplicable connection, something rooted in their codes. I know that Fresh is an outcode, but the body they posses, I like to think that it is a variant of Aftertale Sans (not Geno, the other Sans) <3

Blue, Sans & Fell: I love the idea my besties proposed that there are TWO Underswap Sans in the multiverse (Blueberry belongs to the Stars and Swap makes up the Sans and Fell group). They are good friends and super hilarious together <33

Reaper & Geno: Secret 3rd thing. I wont explain it here tho.

Fatal Error & Error: they hate each other to death.

Fresh and Lust: Secret 3rd option! I like to think that they actually get along really well. They go to disco nights together on Saturday nights fr.

Horror, Dust & Fell: besties. They can be besties okay, i loveeee the idea of Horror and Fell getting along with Dust as their main bond, point in common. If Fell could help Dust, he maybe could help Horror <33

Killer & Color: besties and QRP. I dont have much to say that someone hasn't already said , they are cute! Super adorable as well :3

Killer, Dust and Horror: Frienemies, its complicated. Their relationship It is quite turbulent and there are moments of horrible tension between them, the atmosphere in which they meet is not very good and does not help either, but they are companions in misfortune who try to move forward. I like to think that I could improve with the help of Color (who I forgot to put in the circle but the board already looks terrible!!!) Anyways MTT + Color is defo my thing <33

Dust & Reaper: Acquaintances. Reaper has seen Dust a lot during his endless encounters with The Player. He keeps tempting him to shake his hand like a new friend, hehe <33

Nightmare & Killer: Its complicated, enemies & secret 3rd thing. I've said it before, Killer and Nightmare's relationship is so weird, at least from my perspective, it has so much potential, so many nuances to explore that it's hard to classify what the hell they are. They don't even know what they are or what they have, they think they know each other but there are always details that escape them. Do they hate each other? Maybe. Do they need each other? Who knows. It's weird. They're fucking weird. And I love it, because Nightmare and Killer don't have the same dynamic or personal history that Nightmare and Horror and Dust do. One of my faves.

Color & Nightmare: Enemies. Its complicated. Rahhhh i have been CRAVING more Nightmare and Color content focused, how troubled Nigtjmare actions can be for Color and how it goes against his morals. Id say Color hates him, not totally, but definitely Nightmare "makes it very difficult to be able to help him" and thats a common point he haves with Dream.

Nightmare & Ccino: its complicated, secret 3rd thing aaand enemies. Ccino hates Nightmare for so many reasons, but the main one is the most wrong and absurd: he abandoned him.

Eldritch entity and totally tired mortal quth mundane life have a connection incomprehensible to the established parameters of society or regulations. My favorite.

Ccino @ everyone: is on the image but i think Ccino would know everyone at least because his café is a multiversal meeting point.

Epic & Cross: besties & QRP. They are so lovey, so cute, so beautiful, i love what they have so much.

Cross & Dream: Secret 3rd thing <33 they are very good friends and... :3c

Epic & Nightmare: Enemies & Acquaintances. Epic only knows about Nightmare through word of mouth, but he doesn't like what little he knows. I think he's secretly very resentful towards people who hurt the ones he loves (Cross, Color).

Epic & Dream: Acquaintances. I like to think that Dream is the only one who has seen Epic lose/destroy his body to the point where only his cursed eye remains intact. Something about out-of-body experiences he has suffered since he is a being of light residing in a vessel.

But in general, Epic does not interact and stays away from the apple twins because of their empathic abilities (an apple a day keeps the doctor...).

And thats it. I have a lot of other ideas that I left out the chart but imma write here hheehehe.

Like the fact that Dust and Epic could be friends (and their relationship is a bit rocky because Epic seems to treat Dust like a patient kjj and how that brings problems, as if Epic wanted to fix something of his own by helping and supporting him in his vocation as a doctor, yadda yadda)

Oooor like, fucking Reaper and the twins. Reaper seeing some of the contempt and rejection he himself suffers in his own universe??? That ALMOST inspires some pity, but I'd say it's more towards poor passive/past Nightmare than anything else.

Reaper and Dream should and are friends. I like the idea that Dream is one of the few who laughs at Reaper's shitty jokes (besides Geno) and feels bad about it because of his dark humor.

Nightmare hates Reaper becaaause, what a redundancy, what he personifies and not what he is and that is what prevents Reaper from feeling sorry for Nightmare despite having gone through similar but not at all identical situations <33

Or maybe Color and The Stars (or Color and Dream specially, please, yes?)

Prolly i am forgetting things but whatever this is long enough, i hope the artist doesn't minds ;;0;;

Again this is, like everything i say, my opinion <3

Ship chart but it’s not a ship chart it’s a friendship/found family/QPR chart

[impish-baby]

which of your familial yandere’s do you think would best handle a moody teenager? I’m definitely a fan of the fics where the reader is cute and obedient but I never see much for the older agere’s 😭

This ask is so cute- apologies if I made teen regressor! reader too stereotypical, I just found it funny

Valerian: wants to be a cool parent so bad but they're old-

They do not care for most modern technology but they're sitting there with their reading glasses trying to google all the current lingo and what's hot with the kids these days, will definitely come up to you asking why your generation is into certain things (boomer but times 10,000, they've been alive centuries)

It's a good thing for you if you're into certain alternative fashions because Valerian's wardrobe is stocked full of choices for more goth or lolita looks! They never mind sharing, they're more than happy to have you giving their pieces another life (maybe will be a little miffed if you decide to use something for a DIY without asking first, but they get over it fairly quickly and immediately turn to fawning over your work)

Tentatively let's you go out to concerts and different things, with a chaperone of course! They will not hear any moaning over you being old enough to go by yourself, you're still their baby and need someone to make sure you're safe! (Don't think you'll make any friends though, for some reason everyone avoids you like the plague..)

Rowen: does not stop talking about when he was in a band in high school, you could like a totally different genre of music and he still chats about it because he's (admittedly poorly) trying to connect with you

He's dealt with two other kids before, so attitude problems are no stranger to him! He never takes anything personally, but will threaten to take your door if you keep slamming it (never actually does, he just finds it to be the most annoying part) I think he'd get you lots of journals and self help books just because he knows how difficult and large emotions can be at that age

Unfortunately, you're still not allowed to go anywhere unless you're willing to make it a family trip! None of his kids are allowed in town without him, and sneaking out isn't really an option when he (not to mention your siblings) can out pace you easily. You'll get locked up in the den for the effort though :p

Sylvia: She... does not do well with teen regressors (._.) She tries her best of course, but is very used to babies/toddlers

Her first thought when you're in a mood is that you're throwing a tantrum and she'll start to treat it as such, which does the opposite of helping because it just feels like she's making fun of you-

She messages her coven apologizing for her own teen years..

Eventually, figures out that things go smoother if she takes on more of a big sister role instead of a motherly one. Is very much into gossiping and watching TV together (still doesn't let you watch anything too 'inappropriate', she frowns anytime there's even a mild curse)

Thoren and Rune: *sniffles* they grow up so fast.. they're both sad about their fledgling deciding they're oh so mature and broody

Rune has a habit of mimicking you, annoyingly enough. The deep sighs, eye rolls, he finds it funny how much it bothers you (and despite your efforts, he can tell you also find it humorous sometimes, no feeling escapes the bond)

They mandate cuddling, not that they didn't before, it's just worse now that you act like you're too good for some snuggles from your sires! It doesn't matter how much you fuss about it, you're being dragged into the nest one way or another

My personal ranking for this group best to worst is: Rowen, Thoren and Rune, Valerian, and lastly Sylvia

[imsofreakingtired]

YK WHAT.. i have been wondering.. have you ever thought about the serious characters in arcane dealing with reader with a similar personality as deadpool? (i rlly wanna know how would sevika or vi react lmao)

so i've never seen Deadpool, but i searched up his mbti and apparently he's an ENTP? so here are some Sevika x ENTP!reader headcanons :)

Sevika x ENTP!reader

**based on external research (i spent 15 minutes looking at istp x entp memes.)

every day is a constant challenge of you attempting to fluster Sevika and Sevika being utterly unfazed (she is dying on the inside.) one day your own plan backfires on you trying tease her—you’ve got her backed against a wall, holding the lapel of her coat, pulling her close: when she suddenly grabs your arm, turns you around, pushes you against the same place where she was a second ago. smirks as she watches you absolutely lose your shit

she lowkey encourages your daily chaotic evil schemes. will always pretend to disapprove of them but follows begrudgingly, ready to swoop in and clean things up if you run yourself into a deeper problem than intended. 

“hey ugly rat” (sevika) “hey hideous goon” (you) (this is your love language.) (you are both simps for each other but would never never admit it)

she keeps you grounded when you start to fly off the handle.  

she is also exasperated by your tendency to make jokes out of every situation. like one time you get into a really bad fight and she finds you bleeding out in the street. damn near dies of a heart attack at the ripe age of 41. as she’s patching you up you laugh weakly and crack a joke and she just shoots you a death glare, which is all you need to see to realize just how badly you scared her. 

modern au: you both have a taste for the spontaneous. you’re both repulsed by routine and feeling controlled. entp!reader x Sevika dating includes: not going to the same food place twice. escape rooms. rage rooms (she got banned from three and counting from taking things too far). martial arts classes (she also gets banned from those).

she calls you dumbass (affectionate) and darling (condescending.) 

whenever you start ranting or go off on a tangent in the middle of a tight situation she’ll snap “get to your point.” 

but on quiet days when you want to just ramble to her she’ll sit and listen (or at least pretend to) while she fixes her arm or rolls a cigarette

you are always late to every appointment. she is always early. she starts telling you to meet her half an hour earlier than the designated time. 

you like to team up with Jinx to bully her 

she cackles at the dad jokes you came up with to be ironic

her favorite time of day is when you’re falling asleep in her arms because that’s the one time you’re quiet and soft and let your guard down. it’s rare to see you vulnerable without your joking exterior and she’s filled with this desperate urge to protect you from everything 

you like to pick really dumb fights with her for fun: Sevika: that’s it. I’m not having a stupid argument with you anymore. You: water is not wet Sevika, whirling around: how the FUCK is water not wet?? It’s water—

you are chronically bored. she is chronically tired. this results in you sometimes waking her up at 3 in the morning trying to cook a recipe you saw online or start an ambitious obstacle course project in the living room and she just stands in the doorway trying to decide if it’s worth getting mad or just going back to sleep. 

she’ll drag you away from fighting someone in the last drop who insulted her, but then she’ll turn around and destroy anyone who hit on you 

this is the canon event of how the two of you got together: Sevika: did you just flirt with me? You: have been for the past two years, but thanks for noticing. 

you always get thrown into Stillwater. she always bails you out. it’s gotten to a point where she just hears about a scuffle or a robbery in Topside, goes straight to Stillwater, and waits for you to be hauled in. she then just bails you out and takes you back home without a word. “Sev, before you get mad, I SWEAR this time it was them–” “No.”

also: Sevika: what the hell happened here?! You: well, first of all, I was just minding my own business— Sevika: *slams fist on the table* BULLSHIT You: I WAS!!

on days when she is stressed out, dragged down by the workload, stuck in her head too much, you always know the best way to up her mood—you’re the only person in the world who can make her crack a smile, even on the worst days.

basically, this image would sum up your dynamic:

notes: omg might be fun to make this a series, send in your mbti type if you're interesting in seeing more sevika x mbti headcanons!

[mashtatosworld]

close to you

summary: in which japan blooms something new

warnings: mild language, mentions of alcohol, kissing

You knew G-Dragon would be difficult before you even took the job.

You’d heard the stories - how meticulous he was about his styling, how every detail had to meet his impossible standards. But actually working with him? It was something else entirely.

You were a junior stylist for Big Bang but sometimes it felt more like you were his personal assistant, running around after his demands.

"That fabric’s too stiff. It won’t move the way I need it to on stage."

"These trousers don’t sit right," he’d snap, pulling at the fabric.

"If you’re gonna be on my team, you need to keep up."

Nothing you did was ever quite right, and he had no problem making that known. He wasn’t cruel, just brutally particular. Every fitting turned into a battle of wills. He’d tug at a sleeve, frown at a hemline, run his fingers over a jacket before dismissing it entirely.

And you hated that he was never wrong.

His vision was sharp, his instincts impeccable. When he finally approved a look, it was always perfect. He had an eye for this. But God, did he drive you insane.

Tension between you simmered, never quite boiling over - until Japan.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

The Tokyo tour stop should’ve been like any other. Rehearsals, fittings, press, then the show.

But something was off.

Jiyong had been quiet, moodier than usual. Even the others noticed it - Youngbae giving him concerned glances, Daesung making extra jokes to lighten the mood.

You figured it had to do with his girlfriend - ex-girlfriend now, as you found out through overheard conversations and the way he seemed to be glued to his phone. Eventually, he'd thrown it at the wall, causing you to accidentally poke Seunghyun's leg with a pin.

But he wasn't the only one struggling whilst on the tour.

You barely spoke Japanese, and the crew moved fast, conversations slipping past you like water. You felt isolated, disconnected from everything except your work.

Which was probably why, after the show, you found yourself at the hotel bar instead of your room.

And that’s where he found you.

"Didn’t know you drank alone."

You glanced up, unsurprised. Jiyong slid into the seat beside you, loose-limbed, still buzzing from the high of the concert. He looked different like this - hair damp from a quick shower, stage makeup wiped away, just a hoodie thrown over his frame. Less like G-Dragon. More like himself.

"Didn’t know you drank at all," you shot back.

A smirk tugged at his lips as he ordered a tray of soju bombs.

You weren’t sure how long you sat there, the two of you. Talking. Not arguing, not trading sharp words over inseams and accessories. Just talking.

And then there was the moment.

The silence that stretched too long. The way his gaze lingered, sharp and unreadable. The slow shift of his body toward yours.

"You ever gonna stop looking at me like that?" you murmured.

"Like what?"

"Like you want something."

His jaw ticked.

And then he was kissing you.

It was slow at first - hesitant, like he wasn’t sure if he should. But once you kissed him back, it shifted. Hands gripping, teeth scraping, his breath mixing with yours.

You barely made it to his hotel room.

It was rough, fast, desperate. A blur of tangled limbs and whispered curses, the kind of need that burned too hot to last. When it was over, you laid there, pulse racing, staring at the ceiling.

"This doesn't happen again," you muttered. "Ok?"

Jiyong exhaled a laugh, rolling onto his side.

"Sure."

Liar.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

You told yourself it was just a one-time thing.

But then it happened again.

And again.

It was too easy. You’d bicker during fittings, brush past each other during rehearsals, pretend you weren’t staring. But then, at the end of the night, you’d end up in his bed - or he’d end up in yours.

At first, you didn’t let yourself think about it. It was just stress relief, an easy escape. But the little things started creeping in.

Like how you sometimes watched tv together afterwards.

Or how, during fittings, he started actually listening to your input.

Or how, when a senior stylist snapped at you for a last-minute change, Jiyong was the one who cut in.

"She’s right," he said, voice cold. "Keep it."

You blinked. The stylist faltered. And just like that, the conversation was over.

Still, you knew what this was. And you knew it wasn't likely to last.

"You know he’s not over his ex, right?" you told Daesung one night, the pair of you were on the sidelines as the team celebrated yet another successful night. Jiyong was somewhere chain-smoking cigarettes, but not before his bandmate had caught him handing you his hotel room key.

"Yeah, but it sure seems like he's under you." He snickered and you rolled your eyes.

"It's not going anywhere." You shrugged lightly.

Daesung raised his brow curiously. "Do you want to date him?"

"God, no," you scoffed, taking a long sip of your beer. "The only time we get along is during sex."

But even as you said it, something in your chest twisted.

Because maybe it wasn't entirely true, not anymore at least.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

The concert had just ended, the echoes of the screaming crowd still ringing in your ears. Sweat glistened on Jiyong’s skin, the adrenaline from performing still burning through his veins.

But even with all that energy, his focus was locked on one thing.

You.

Or rather - you and the crew member you were currently laughing with.

As he exchanged his mic for a bottle of water, Jiyong watched, jaw tight, chest rising and falling as he struggled to bite back the irritation bubbling inside him.

The guy - some stage runner - stood too close, his grin a little too easy, his body angled toward you like he thought he had a chance. And the worst part?

You weren’t shutting it down.

Instead, you were smirking, tilting your head in that teasing way you did when you were being coy. Maybe you knew exactly what you were doing. Maybe you wanted to get under Jiyong’s skin.

It was working.

The moment the guy’s fingers brushed your arm, Jiyong was on the move.

He didn’t hesitate, didn’t care that people were watching. His body moved on instinct - a predator honing in on what was his.

“Hey.” His voice was deceptively smooth as he came to a stop beside you. His arm stretched behind you, resting his palm on the small of your back.

A clear, unmistakable signal.

You tensed.

The stage aid hesitated before clearing his throat, nodding toward the rapper. “Good show tonight, man.”

Jiyong barely spared him a glance. His fingers, still damp from sweat, trailed up your spine absentmindedly, just enough pressure to make you shiver.

You stared up at him, meeting his heated gaze.

You wanted to push him away - you really did. But your body betrayed you, leaning into his touch before you could stop yourself.

The man's gaze flickered between you both, and Jiyong could see the exact moment he realised what this was.

Good.

Jiyong smiled - sharp, knowing, victorious. “You don’t mind if I steal her, do you?”

It wasn’t a question.

The guy chuckled awkwardly, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Uh, yeah, sure. I’ll catch you later, y/n.”

Jiyong didn’t even wait for him to leave. He was already walking you back, his grip on your waist firm, guiding you toward his dressing room.

Your pulse was racing.

Once inside, the door slammed shut.

“What the fuck was that?” you snapped, spinning around.

Jiyong just leaned against the door, eyes dark, hooded with something unreadable. “You tell me.”

His gaze dropped - lingering on your lips, your throat, the way your chest rose and fell.

You crossed your arms. “You can't just do that in public, Jiyong. People will get the wrong impression.”

“Would they?” he murmured.

Before you could respond, he was on you.

His mouth crashed into yours, hot, insistent, claiming. He kissed you like he had something to prove, like he needed to erase any trace of someone else even thinking about touching you.

His hands weren’t gentle. They gripped your waist, sliding up your back, fingers pressing into your skin like he wanted to feel every inch of you at once.

And you let him.

You melted into him, your hands gripping his damp shirt, nails digging in.

His breath was unsteady as he dragged his lips along your jaw, voice low.

“I don’t want you looking at anyone else like that.”

Your stomach flipped. “I wasn’t - ”

“You were,” he murmured, mouth brushing your pulse. “And I don’t fucking like it.”

Your breath came quicker, heart hammering.

“You’re unbelievable,” you whispered, but the words lacked conviction.

Jiyong hummed, thumb skimming over your lower lip, watching the way it parted under his touch.

“But you like me anyway.”

And he was right.

Because no matter how much you fought, no matter how much you swore you wouldn’t get tangled up in him again -

Here you were.

Wanting him anyway.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

ah... i'm so bad at writing spicy stuff - but i'll work on it

taglist: @petersasteria , @mirahyun

[orlovwrites]

EASIER TO FORGET

PAIRING: Dark! Rafe Cameron x step-sister!reader

CONTENT WARNING: captive/kidnapped reader. non con. dub con. manipulation. step-cest. some smut. 18+ MDNI

AUTHOR'S NOTE: not sure what this is but enjoy.

🖤

Out of all of your step siblings, Rafe was always the most distant. Between sharing a bathroom and a whole floor in the Cameron household, you never really formed a bond. You never pondered on it, never really sought it out either. Apart from seeking out his fathers approval and arguing with Sarah, Rafe kept to himself and your lives never really crossed. 

So you couldn’t understand why when your hands and feet were bound with rope and you were taken to a random trailer in the middle of nowhere, it was Rafe’s figure that was towering over you. 

Rafe barely spoke two words to you before. If you weren’t in his way or his father hadn’t pushed him to do it, he barely breathed in your direction if he could help it. On some occasions you entirely believed he had forgotten your existence. 

And yet it was him that had slipped the pill in your drink at that party and it was him that whisked you away in the night for no one to see.  

After months you’ve come to the realisation that there is no point trying to understand why he’s done what he’s done. Even when you think about how long this must have taken to plan out, getting a trailer out in the bayou to stop you from escaping, get you all the books you love and to have all the clothes he wants you to wear all stored and ready to go. He must have been saving, hiding money from Ward to make such a huge payment. It seemed so intricate with all the details and yet you had no inclination that Rafe even noticed you, not until you were tied up in front of him, hot tears running down your cheeks as you begged for his help. 

You know better than to question him. Especially after months of being held captive by him. You really do. 

Especially when all it leads to is his fingers digging into the flesh of your cheeks as he holds your chin in his hand, keeping your eyes locked with his. 

“We’ve talked about this,” Rafe warns, icy blue eyes narrowing at the sight of you. 

“I’m sorry,” your apology comes out muffled with his fingers still squeezing your cheeks. But you can tell he hears it when he sighs and releases his grip. 

“It’s okay,” he says, relaxing back into the cushions of the couch once again. His eyes never leave yours though and you know he’s waiting for something. 

You're quick to give him a kiss, lifting yourself up a bit to reach him. You try to only offer a peck but with Rafe once you offer an inch, he’ll take a mile. His lips slotting between yours as he deepens the kiss, making sure to get a good grip on the back of your neck to keep you from running away. And although there’s still that lingering ache from your bruised flesh, you can’t deny how easy it is to sink into his touch and forget for a moment. 

Until Rafe reminds you again… with his, “I forgive you.” 

He’s hardly ever in the wrong, it’s one of the many things you’ve gotten used to that. 

He only ever feels like he needs to make it up to you when he’s crawling in beside you past midnight, after having too many with the boys or if he’s forgotten something you specifically asked him for while he’s out. And then the only way Rafe Cameron knows how to grovel is by positioning himself between your legs. 

Sometimes you honestly think he does it on purpose, giving him a reason to really take his time with you. Even if you never really wanted it in the first place. 

“Stop.” 

His hardened tone snaps you out of your thoughts and the way his grip tightens around the back of your neck has your eyes flickering up at him again. You realise you’ve been frowning and you relax your face on command to appease him. 

“I won’t tell you again.” It isn’t a warning this time, it’s a threat. 

“I’m sorry.” Your voice is barely audible, just about a whisper. 

“You’ve been so good,” he tells you, his grip relaxing as his hand finds its way to your chin again. His thumb grazes over cheek and you can’t help but ease into his touch. “I know it's not been easy but you’re doing so well.” 

You nod in agreement, bringing your face closer to his as you rest your forehead against his. You can feel his free hand sliding up your inner thighs and even though you know you should push him away, you find it easier to forget. Because between the kisses and the way his fingers trail your subtle skin before they push themselves into your underwear, you find yourself fixated on the pleasure. 

“Isn’t it perfect?” 

Yes. 

Your mind becomes numb as his fingers slip between your folds. 

Yes. 

You remind yourself as his lips connect with yours, sliding his tongue into the parted space. 

“Yes,” you sigh as he presses his thumb against your clit. 

“It never takes much with you,” he taunts as he tugs on your bottom lip. 

That’s when the shame creeps in and you have to swallow it back, pushing him away as you tell him, “Don’t. Please.” 

Your voice is hoarse, the sound almost pathetic to your ears. Almost as pathetic as the way Rafe easily pulls you back with his lips against your neck and a firm hold on your neck.

“I’m fucking with you,” he chuckles, teeth grazing your exposed flesh while his fingers find your entrance. “Besides, you’re not nearly as wet as I’d like you to be.” 

He hums against your neck and you can’t help but sink back into him, letting the shame slip into the back of your mind. And as his fingers finally slide into you, you decide you’ll linger on the shame another day. 

🖤

All likes and reblogs are very much appreciated

[p1eceandharmon1]

𝙆𝙄𝙎𝙎𝙀𝙎┊ 𝙋1𝙃𝘼𝙍𝙈𝙊𝙉𝙔 (𝙊𝙏6)

warnings: kissing ┊ fluf! ┊ gn!reader┊ wordcount: 944

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

➳ Keeho | 윤기호

Expect Keeho to always be longing for your touch and kisses, so there’s no better way for him to satisfy this need than having you sitting on top of him, straddling his lap, as you two make out. It would be slow and romantic; he likes to take his time caressing every inch of your skin as a silent way of praising your body, making you unintentionally moan into his mouth. He would smile into the kiss whenever that happened, and some breathy noises would also come from him if he felt your nails gently scratch his nape. If you needed to catch your breath, he would pull you even closer by your waist, leaving wet kisses on your jaw and neck while whispering “I love you”s every now and then. You both love the intimacy of those moments — it was just the two of you, making each other feel appreciated and wanted while leaving all your worries behind.

➳ Theo | 최태양

When it comes to kisses, Theo has two well differentiated sides of him, depending if you’re in private or not. When it’s just the two of you, Theo adores classic French kisses — having you pressed against him, with your hands on his long and silky hair as both of your tongues fight for dominance. Be ready for his hands travelling from your waist to your butt as the kiss becomes more desperate. However, when you’re in a public space and Theo needs to feel you close, he turns to forehead kisses instead. He is significantly taller than you, so it’s easy for him to grab either your cheeks or your chin to leave a sweet kiss there. Sometimes, he does it if he notices you tired, or if he sees some other guy checking you out while you’re with him. But most of the time, he does it because it never fails to make you smile.

➳ Jiung | 최지웅

Jiung is not the biggest physical contact enthusiast out there and you know it. Still, for him you are his only exception — after getting out of work, the only thing on his mind is to rush into your arms and let you kiss every inch of his face. He would never admit this to anyone, but he can never get enough of the feeling of your lips on his. When you initiate the kiss, he would be up for everything and the last thing he would do is reject you. But when he wants to give you a kiss, his first instinct is to grab your hand and kiss it. In Jiung’s eyes, it just feels so natural and romantic to interlock your fingers with his and plant a kiss on the back of your hand while you’re walking side by side. Or when he’s admiring the last nail design you got while playing with your fingers, and he suddenly take them to his lips to leave little pecks.

➳ Intak | 황인탁

This menace… He loves to tease you for sure, that’s why he is addicted to playing jokes on you whenever you come towards him for a kiss. He would come slightly closer to you and right after you close your eyes, expecting to feel his lips, he would suddenly pull back while holding his laugh. Every single time, you would open your eyes and give him an annoyed look, which would make him laugh out loud and go back for a real kiss. But now it was your turn to refuse his kisses in revenge. Between laughs, you would try to escape from him as he chased you, but he would catch you by your waist and pin you to the closest surface while holding your hands to your sides. You both loved this little game of yours, that always ended up in a passionate kiss that made up for all the previous playful fighting.

➳ Soul | 白翔太

Shota still finds it hard to believe that he gets to kiss you whenever he wants. At first, he would be extremely shy and would always wait for you to lean in for a kiss, or he would ask quietly for permission. But the boy is addicted to your kisses, to how your lips move in perfect sync every single time, so he soon overcame that initial hesitation. He would always start with little pecks on your cheeks and your nose, which never fails to make you giggle. Encouraged by this, Shota would start leaving kisses on the corners of your mouth with a mischievous grin on his face — you would have to cup his cheeks in order to lead him to your lips. After his little teasing, he would give you the sweetest kiss ever before deepening it while putting his arms around you, making you go weak at the knees.

➳ Jongseob | 김종섭

It broke your heart to see Jongseob so overworked all the time, that’s why you always try to be a source of comfort for him whenever you two spend time together. Jongseob feels like he could melt every time he comes back home and you’re there waiting for him, looking extra comfy and opening your arms for him to hug you and cuddle. He wouldn’t think twice and throw himself into your embrace, hugging you tightly and burring his face into the crook of your neck. He would let a content sigh leave his lips when you bring your hands up to play with his hair, and he would start kissing your neck in return almost immediately. It would go from very light kisses to hungrier ones, and even some love bites that would probably leave a mark. He takes his time to go up to your jaw and, finally, to your lips.

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

[overnightheartbeats]

His lips were coated in something sweet, her heart thumping with anticipation as he pulled her close. A happy, dazed hum escaped her as his lips reassured her and worked a magic that effectively brought her mind back to them. Even if they still talked about her, her worry and shame regarding her roommate was no more. Her right hand resting on the nape of his neck softly brushed his hair, smiling at his words. He really didn’t know just how much comfort he brought her, something to share with him. “I get that. Well, you won’t be in her space anymore. We won’t be. I meant what I said earlier, I’m moving out. Choosing, yeah that’d..be something.” Was it insane to tell him that her heart said him, no hesitation. It seemed too early to share such huge feelings, it had to be. But, when had that ever stopped her? “It’d be you though, for the record.”

In between saying yes, her laughter followed his. His eyelashes fanning against her cheek tickled, but she loved the feeling. “Yup, these eyes precisely. Oh, first day you saw me? I’d have been a goner.” She was already intrigued by him at that party, this would’ve just ensured she walked over much sooner. “Between pretty eyes and your bottle opening trick, I would’ve stuck to you from the moment you arrived.” Though, she remembered she had seen him around sometime before that. Leaning in to catch every single kiss he provided, she brushed his damp hair from his face. It was bizarre to think of how he had her heart dancing. How far deep was she. If he asked her to jump, she’d only ask how high. Oh, she was falling expeditiously. Just us, how nice that sounded from his lips.

Her hand had traveled down from his face to rest on his chest. Her dopey smile could not be hidden, meeting his family should be frightening. And, that’d eventually settle in, but for now, her excitement kept everything else at bay. The fact that he even wanted to introduce her meant he was serious. It wasn’t just her. Laurel was quick to shake her head to dispel the idea that she felt it was too fast. It didn’t matter to her, she loved it. “I want to meet your family, I want to do it all with you.” It was vague, but laurel was effectively letting him know, she was all in with him. “I like you too, so much, and yes let’s do it!” Her happiness was everywhere you looked, bursting at the seams. Bright eyes, her lips curved into a wide smile and her face a rosy color as if her feelings for him settled into her features, in full display for him. She was going to make a joke about the house he envisioned when he mentioned wanting to be honest. That was the other shoe dropping, wasn’t it? Oh, it was that. “You are really sweet being honest with me, and you’re in luck. We’re like…secretly in sync. I know I’m not the marriage type. So, I think that’s something we won’t have to worry about.” No one else knew that, he was the first person she told. But, that was a thing for later. “I’ll happily take loyal partner over the other stuff.”

“I’ll take all the stories you’re willing to share with me, though I’ll also ask your family,” she warned him with a grin before leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to his lips. Every opportunity to learn about him, she’d take.

It was a quiet afternoon, the diner had a few guests but the booth they favored was open, as if waiting for them. The whole way there, Laurel didn’t let go of his hand. Exclusivity really did have its perks, and she was on cloud nine over it. “So, Chicago trip, how long would it be? I’ll need to tell my dad.” Which reminded her, she’d need to plan a trip for him to meet her family. “Also, I’m good sharing a milkshake today, but I think I’m starving enough for my own fries. What do you think?”

He kissed her like the memory of Jenny was going to blur into the background. His hands at her face pulling her close, taking his time to slowly explore her mouth like they hadn't been acquainted yet. "Hmm, no I think we both bring each other comfort." Was he trying to be funny? Maybe. "I could never. Aside from the fact that I don't like to butt into other people's business. It just wasn't my place. I wasn't going to make you choose either. It's not her or me. I just don't want to be in her space."

He laughed and then fanned his eyelashes against his cheeks and bit his bottom lip. "These eyes? Right here? If I knew it was all it would take I'd have fanned them right at you the first day I saw you." he nodded and laughed as his face nuzzled hers and gave her a few more kisses. "Just us," he reaffirmed. He was pretty sure this was what it felt like to fall in love.

"I want you to meet my family. I know it's a little soon and if you feel like it's too fast, just tell me. I was actually going to do this at dinner but," he sighed and smiled. "I would like us to be exclusive. I can't see anyone else making me feel like you do. And it's not just because we have a sexual relationship either. It's not that at all. But, I really like you and do see you as more than just a college experience. I see the house and living the good life. Lots of laughter. But, I just want to be honest. Marriage isn't something I see for myself but I'll be the most loyal partner you'll ever have."

He rolled his eyes and shook his head. "The good and the bad stories maybe the ugly ones." Giving her one last kiss he got up and pulled her by the chin. "Let's go,"

[midnight-shadow-cafe]

Never Been Safer

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Warnings: Fluff, soft and protective Daryl

Author's Note: Just some much-needed softness for our favorite crossbow-wielding grump. Set sometime in the apocalypse, but in a rare, quiet moment where Dar can just be with his lover

Masterlist

MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+

The fire crackled low, embers glowing against the night as the camp settled into an uneasy stillness. It was never truly quiet in the world anymore—branches creaked, distant walkers groaned, and the occasional hoot of an owl pierced the night—but here, in this moment, with him, you felt safe.

Daryl sat beside you, knife in hand, absentmindedly sharpening the already well-worn blade. He wasn’t much for words, never had been, but you’d learned to read him in ways that required no speaking at all. The way his shoulders remained tense even now, after a long day. The way his eyes flickered to you every few seconds, as if to reassure himself that you were still there. That you hadn’t been taken from him like so many others.

“You don’t have to keep watch alone, y’know,” you murmured, nudging him lightly with your shoulder. “I could stay up with you. Keep you company.”

“Ain’t tired,” he muttered, but even as he said it, you could hear the exhaustion in his voice. He never let himself rest, never let his guard down fully, not even with you.

“Liar.” You smiled softly, reaching out to run your fingers along his arm, feeling the tension coiled beneath his skin. He stiffened for a second, then exhaled, leaning slightly into your touch. That was progress.

He huffed, finally setting the knife aside. “Fine. But only ‘cause you ain't gonna stop naggin’ me.”

A chuckle escaped your lips as you patted the empty space beside you in the tent. “Come on, Dixon. For once, just let yourself rest.”

He hesitated before finally giving in, crawling into the small space beside you. The moment he lay down, you turned to face him, fingertips tracing absentminded patterns over the fabric of his worn shirt. He watched you, eyes softer in the dim glow of the fire outside, his rough exterior momentarily stripped away in the safety of your presence.

“Y’know,” he started, voice low, “never really had this before.”

“This?” You tilted your head slightly.

“This. You.” He swallowed, as if the words were foreign on his tongue. “Someone who gives a damn. Someone who stays.”

Your heart clenched at the vulnerability in his voice, at the quiet confession wrapped in rough edges. “I’ll always stay, Daryl.” You slid your hand up to cup his cheek, thumb brushing over the stubble there. “You don’t have to doubt that.”

His breath hitched, and for a moment, he just stared at you, as if trying to memorize every detail of your face. Then, with a sigh, he leaned into your touch, pressing a slow, lingering kiss against your palm.

A warmth spread through your chest as you shifted closer, tucking yourself against him. His arms wrapped around you hesitantly at first, then tighter, as if he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go.

“You’re the only place that still feels safe,” he admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

You pressed a kiss to his shoulder, lingering there as you whispered, “Then you’ll always have a safe place. Right here.”

Daryl wasn’t a man of many words, but the way he held you—secure, protective, like you were the most precious thing in this broken world—told you everything you needed to know.

He loved you.

And in a world that had tried to take everything from you both, that love was everything.

Hope you enjoyed! Please consider liking and  reposting! -Midnight💜

[asmolfolk]

Lilia Vanrouge; "Army Dreamers".

ਈՉ࣪﹑Lilia x Reader.﹗ִ❀ ᘏTW: Death.﹗ִ❀ ᘏGenre: Angst/Comfort (?)﹗ִ❀

It's mostly just an idea vomitting idea tbh? I'm listening to this song on repeat so... Yeah. The only thing that I think it's important to know: The only appearence related thing mentioned was your eyes in a very vague way.

Imagine being the one and only person he would let go with him to anywhere. The one who had left a mark on him... A troublesome fellow, someone he wouldn't dare to let himself fall for... However, when you are all he can think about, all he can search for... It takes another whole act to try to put together. You, who keep reencarnating, with him, who keept searching for you.

When Lilia first met you, he was a ‘Teen Fae’. It was a bit after the first human-fae war, you were one of the humans that decided to move to Briar Valley to escape the hatred from other humans.  He could never understand how could a being be so hateful towards their own... But he supposed it was never about logics at all. 

 You were... Bright. Brighter than the sun and stars together, brighter than fire magic and any candle... You would make him give you some smiles, sometimes. You always said how you wanted to be a singer, to show the world the songs you wrote – you dreamed about being in something that [nowadays] would be close to a rockstar. You would tell him all about your dreams, show him your songs, showing him your big plans... 

 But oh. You never had the money for that, have you? 

 Supporting your family, trying to keep your house and managing a bakery, all in your own. You were exhausting yourself and it didn’t matter anything that Lilia said, you never stopped. You were always bubbling about needing to help someone. 

 You were naive, trusted that the world would give the effort you put on others back to you. You naively thought that you didn’t need to rush. 

 And then it happened, the first death that he saw ever since he had met you. It was a normal day, a normal day that he decided to let you wander off as he bought an instrument for you. It was supposed to be a surprise, but your body was on the ground [dead] 

 You were killed and he didn’t know who did it. 

 The second time, he didn’t even realize it was you. He felt a flick around you but didn’t act on it. He kept his distance around you, you were – again a human. You would often try to talk with fairies on the woods, he never answered your calls.  Again, too naive. Maybe it was because you were just a teen trying to fit in. It didn’t take too long before you were attacked, this time, he knew who did it [By accident] but what an unfortunate event. 

 He left flowers in your grave, never once letting them die... After a year or so, he stopped coming by your grave. He told himself that he couldn't keep doing this. 

Then the third came. You were a dreamer, once more, wanting to be a politician. You constantly talked to yourself as you sat on the same damn forest your last reincarnation was killed. You used to write about new rules you would do. 

You didn’t care what role in royalty, you just wanted to help make everything be nice and smooth. 

   About how things would change once you got power. Oh, how unfortunate – You never had the education for that. Never. 

He could see it in your dreamy eyes, there was no thought behind those eyes – nothing but simply the need to make the world a better place. Your blabbering was sweet but... Was nothing at the same time. Promises can’t make deals and, just like that, you kept dreaming. 

And dreaming. 

And dreaming. 

...And dreaming. 

Until you couldn’t awake no more. 

He was present in every life you were in. He was a mentor, a crush, the guy that you kept yapping about... Just the love of your soul, wasn’t him? 

 You were the most different looking – the kind of ‘Cinderella’ story. He didn’t interact much with you either, he just let you go when you wanted to. Didn’t held you, didn’t think about you – it was better this way. 

Another war had begun after all, he couldn’t be thinking about you – about what it could be. 

This time, however. Things were... Too different. You were one of the... Politicians, seems like you realized the dream you once had, hm? You were the frontline, trying your best to be the strongest of all.   Your King, the one who made you one of his ‘negotiators’, made you go in a mission... An almost suicidal one. 

Lilia didn’t want to look soft to his soldiers when you appeared. You always looked gorgeous, he always would notice who you were [your eyes, the windows of your soul always showed him exactly who you were.] and it wasn’t different here. 

He knew you weren’t there to actually help, you were in a mission. But he indulged you, not only for himself but to get information. He didn’t expect, however, to be able to just... Change your way of thinking. 

Maybe it was the way he managed to ‘humanize’ the faes, making them seem like people in your eyes. The same eyes who, once looked at him with hate, now were full of... Pity, somehow.   You started questioning everything they teached you about.   Everything. 

And you stayed with him. You became his – in more ways than one – and neither him nor you did ever want to let it go. His soldiers recognized you as ‘the almighty’, the only one who managed to make Lilia go soft.   It was amazing.   Maybe... Just maybe, finally you would have a happy ending? Together with your beloved? 

It was one mistake. 

One tiny mistake. 

But he should know at this point, any mistake can take your life away from him. 

You died again, a betrayal that he wasn’t able to see. 

But a betrayal that made his hatred go deeper. 

Letting the fire burn the village, the traitor, everything that could be burned to the ground. 

He had it all... And he lost. 

Maybe that was his mistake, trying to be yours. Trying to make your life revolve around him, he thought for a second... What if you never met him? 

.

.

.

Your other lives never knew who he was. Well, of course, they knew he was General Lilia Vanrouge but never knew who was Lilia. The Lilia who always heard your talks, who fought for you, who would do anything it takes for you.   They lived, survived and died without meeting the very man they were waiting to meet. 

As he grew older, he couldn’t help but think about his earlier mindsets. Taking care of Malleus changed him, in more ways than one, and he – as selfish as he was – wanted you again. He always did, don’t get him wrong. 

But now, NOW, he knows that he could do it. 

He knows that – finally – he could be the man you need. One who already knows the tricks, who will protect you, save you from your constant deaths... One that can give you a happy ever after. 

But he never found you again. Nothing. He could find information about your old past lives, you were a Preacher, a Teacher, died too soon or were simply... Living as much as you could. He tried his best to try to find more, but he could only find those four. 

He tried to hide his constant searching from Silver and Malleus, but that simply wasn’t possible. 

Silver was intelligent, always were. He could easily notice when his father was being too much, his eyes would always look directly at Lilia – seeing him holding the paintings that he managed to steal get of you. In some way, you became a sort of altar for Silver. 

He would pour his feelings while looking at your pictures, asking questions, receiving no answers. 

Maybe the universe was trying to give a sign. Because as soon as the NRC would start, Silver was with your picture the day before. 

“You know... I always thought... How would be to meet you? If you are as bright as in some paintings, as serious as in others or... If you are just a new you.” He looked at the painting once more “Father missed you... I know he does. You were never there when I was born but... I miss you too... parent.” 

Maybe it was the tears, maybe it was the feeling of something he never had but COULD that have made him so... Emotional. He couldn’t control his tears; he tried to not let his tears on the painting [it had a safety glass at least] but he couldn’t help but lament. 

And then, there you were. The magicless student, as beautiful as the day Lilia had lost you, as beautiful as the paintings Silver saw. 

Oh. You were up to some fun things now, aren’t you prefect? 

[witchthewriter]

𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐞𝐧𝐚 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞 ⋆.˚🦋༘⋆

⤷ female, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ

𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿

・At first it was just kindness. You were there whenever Helaena needed you, and you soon you became her trusted friend.

・Trusted friend turned into something less platonic ... like a small evolution, Helaena realised that she could not live out her days without you by her side.

・Even though the Princess is not one for grand gestures of affection, you know just how all-consuming her love is ... in a deep yet quiet way.

・She gazes upon you with adoration, her violet eyes filled with a warmth barely anyone else ever receives.

・You are her safe place, her constant, the only one she can truly trust.

・Although she would NEVER say it outright - Helaena shows you her love through the way she lingers in your presence, the way her fingers brush slowly against yours, the soft smiles meant only for you.

・When you brush her hair, she leans into your touch, a small sigh escaping her lips.

・Sometimes, when she’s feeling brave, she will trace her fingers over your wrist absentmindedly, as if memorizing the feel of you. Both of you blush but neither says a word.

・She adores giving you small gifts—a butterfly pin she had made just for you, an embroidered handkerchief with her own initials (so that a piece of her is always with you), actually, a lot of your clothes have hidden bugs that she has sewn to signify that you are hers.

・She plucks flowers from the royal gardens and presses them into books before leaving them in your chambers, never saying a word about it.

・When she’s alone with you, she finally breathes. She lets down her walls and allows herself to be just Helaena, not a princess.

・She’ll ask you to stay with her a little longer, finding excuses for you to keep her company; whether it’s brushing her hair, helping her dress, or simply sitting in silence while she watches her insects.

・Helaena speaks in riddles and half-truths, but around you, her words take on a soft, intimate quality.

"If a moth is drawn to a flame, yet the flame does not burn it ..." (aka devotion from both ends. One is endless curiosity and the other is making sure their actions do not hurt the other. It's about you and her.)

・She is always comparing you to something ethereal - e.g., a rare moth, a fleeting sunrise, a melody no one else can hear but her.

・You asked her why she liked moths so much and she said: "moths are ... overlooked. Much more than butterflies. They are drawn to light...just like everyone else. Yet, just like everyone else. They are not treated the same."

・One of your favourite memories with Helaena is when she introduced you to Dreamfyre.

・You thought, 'surely today is the day that I day," oh how wrong you were.

・Dreamfyre chooses her riders for specific reasons both Rhaena Targaryen and Helaena Targaryen were not the most politically powerful of their time, nor were they the most feared.

・But Dreamfyre does not seek conquest or brute force—she seeks something deeper. Rhaena and Helaena both had a deep connection to things beyond the mortal world, and Dreamfyre recognized it.

・Rhaena and Helaena were both women who were not meant to rule. They were overlooked, dismissed, forced into positions they never truly wanted.

・Many Targaryens could have tried to claim Dreamfyre, but she has never allowed herself to be ruled by greed or ambition.

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

You Are My Safe Place

Always Hold Grudges (You) x Forgives Too Easily (Helaena)

Has Insane Dreams Of The Future (Helaena) x Believes All Of It - Lemme Write This Down Honey (You)

𝑹𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒄 𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆

Love Transcending Boundaries

Forbidden Love

Only You Understand

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈

Kiss Me by Sixpence None The Richer

Picture You by Chappel Roan

Do I Wanna Know by Hozier

𝒀𝒐𝒖 & 𝑫𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎𝒇𝒚𝒓𝒆

・To Helaena, Dreamfyre is more than just her dragon; she is her kindred spirit, the only creature who has always understood her.

・Dreamfyre is ancient, wise, and deeply connected to her rider’s emotions. If Helaena is bringing you to meet her, it means she sees you as someone truly important.

・The cave depths of the Dragonpit echo with the sound of slow, deep breathing as Dreamfyre stirs at Helaena’s approach. The Dragonpit is huge; even more spacious down below, where the chained dragons sleep.

・You were glad that Dreamfyre's place was quite close to the exit.

・As you walked closer to the now fully awake, and alert dragon, you squeezed Helaena's hand tightly, your fingers trembling. Hell you're whole body feels like it's trembling.

・When you're close, you can see Dreamfyre's great silver-blue head and her glowing eyes ... that settle on you with deep intensity.

・Your heart starts to pound even more so.

・Helaena strokes the dragon’s snout, whispering in High Valyrian, her voice a soft hum against the cavern’s stillness. Then she turns to you.

“Now you must not be afraid,” she murmurs, because there is an underlying meaning beneath her words: Dreamfyre will know if you are.

・The dragon sniffs the air, then lowers her massive head, exhaling a warm breath that ruffles your hair. She is assessing you.

・You hold your ground. Dying by a dragon seems like a pretty cool way to go, so you stare the dragon in the eyes. And for some reason, your hand start to move.

・You gently cup the side of Dreamfyre's face and smile.

・Helaena is holding her breath - she hadn't expected you to do that. And she's impressed.

・With a few slow blinks, Dreamfyre huffs which causes your hair to fly backwards.

・And then you feel it, her head moving towards your hand, liking the touch.

"She accepts you," Helaena says with glee.

[brklynbxby]

"Jasmine, come on," he said, a soft laugh escaping him as he shook his head, still caught in the wonder of her gaze. His heart fluttered with the quiet honesty in her voice, his mind struggling to find the right words. It felt like a truth he was trying to voice for the first time, unsure of how to frame it, but he needed to say it. "You... you're far beyond my reach, Jasmine," he said, his voice gentle, carrying a weight of admiration. "You’re radiant, effortlessly captivating, popular in a way that makes people wait for a chance to even breathe the same air as you. And then there’s me…” He stopped, a small shrug lifting his shoulders as if to underline the distance between their worlds. "I’m just the guy who spends his days buried in papers, trying to coax meaning from high school essays. And there you are, walking into a room and lighting it up with just your smile. It’s like… these two worlds were never meant to collide." His words trailed off, a trace of awe lingering in his voice.

He looked at her then, his eyes softening, searching her face for any sign of how she was receiving him, his insecurities laid bare. He didn’t want her to feel the weight of his doubt, but the truth was, he'd never imagined a moment like this, sitting across from someone like her. Yet, somehow, with Jasmine, it felt like the lines between their worlds weren’t so unbridgeable. "But I’m glad you thought it was a date," he murmured. "Because, honestly, it felt like one to me too—even if we never said it out loud." His smile was small, a mix of shy sincerity and something else. "We didn’t make any grand declarations or promises, but something about that day… it felt different. I didn’t know if there was someone else in your life, or if I was just reading too much into it." His eyes met hers, a hint of hope flickering in his gaze. "But I’m really, really glad you had a good time. And, if you’re free sometime, maybe we could… do it again? Just—if you want to."

Jasmine’s eyes widened slightly as his words settled over her, a quiet shock rippling through her. Out of his league? She stared at him for a moment, unsure how to process it. All this time, she had thought the exact opposite—that he was the one who was too good for her. And yet here he was, saying the complete opposite. She opened her mouth, then closed it again, as if trying to find some way to make sense of the contradiction.

“Wait... what? Thats so silly, why.. why would you think that?” She blinked, genuinely confused, a little taken aback. “I… I don’t understand. You really think that?" Her voice softened, a quiet hurt hiding behind the words. "I’ve been thinking you’re way out of my league this whole time.” She gave a little half-laugh, but it was edged with the weight of something deeper. How could he think that? Her heart skipped a beat when he suddenly asked about the day they’d spent together, and the question hit her like a quiet wave. She fell silent for a moment, the weight of his words hanging in the air. Was it a date?

She felt the warmth of her cheeks flushing as the memory of that day danced through her mind. The laughter, the easy way they’d shared moments, how everything had just felt… right. She finally nodded, her voice quiet but firm. "Yeah... it was a date," she said, looking down for a brief moment before meeting his gaze again. "At least to me. It was my favorite date I’ve ever had." The vulnerability in her words was clear, but it felt good to finally say it out loud. "A-and its totally fine if it wasn't one for you- uhm, I still had an amazing day with you."