#but now i know for sure that i will skip it

[cosmiic-world]

jealous, jealous, jealous girl — love and deepspace men

when someone tries flirting with your boyfriend in front of you. or when someone tries flirting with his girlfriend.

content: fluff, jealous!reader, rafayel gets jealous instead, reader is kind of insane in calebs (I LOVE INSANE MC), very lighthearted, sylus’ is slightly suggestive toward the end, maybe kinda ooc?, some might be longer than others i do have favorites unfortunately, sorry 😞, colonel caleb mentioned EHEHHEHE

sylus

sylus had invited you to accompany him to an auction in the N109 Zone, to which you had agreed. of course, he already had a dress picked for you, fitted perfectly with all your measurements.

it was a beautiful black dress with red accents, totally sylus. you were adorned in stunning red jewelry, from blood red teardrop diamond earrings, to a stunning red heart pendant necklace.

as you walked beside sylus through the hall of the auction place, his arm was around your waist the entire time, not one second spent away from you.

unfortunately, that wasn't stopping any of the women there from staring at your boyfriend. nor did it stop one from approaching.

you watched silently from sylus's side as she tried talking to him with stupid small talk.

"you're so tall!" the woman squealed annoyingly. her voice was like glass shattering in your ear drums. "how tall are you exactly?"

"i believe his height is none of your concern..” you spoke up finally, fed up with her attitude. seriously, you were literally attatched to him and she’s paying you no mind at all! your eyes hardened, glaring at her with the most nasty look you could conjure.

sylus watched with an amused smirk, his heart almost skipping a beat at how possessive you were being.

“and who are you?” the woman says, crossing her arms as she finally looks at you.

“i’m his wife.” you said, lifting your hand which was adorned with a ruby ring. though it was just for show, she didn’t have to know that.

sylus’s smirk widened, if that was even possible, as his heart soared. he could’ve sworn his pants were suddenly a tad bit too tight now.

“i don’t appreciate you flirting with my husband right in front of me, so i’m kindly asking you to leave.” you said, using two fingers to flick them in her direction as an act of dismissal, as if she were staff.

you grinned triumphantly as the woman scoffed and stomped away.

“my wife, hm?” sylus said, leaning down to mutter in your ear. you could just tell he was so turned on just from his tone alone. “what a feisty kitten.”

“she couldn’t tell who you were here with. i had to make sure she knew.” you said, giggling as you cupped his cheek with one hand and kissed him deeply.

sylus couldn’t help but groan against your lips as you pressed your body against his. his hand grabbed your waist tightly, almost desperately, as he kissed you in the middle of the room. “we’re leaving immediately.”

“but what about the protocores? the auction?” you said as he grabbed your hand and began to drag you out of the building.

“there are more urgent matters to attend than protocores.” he said, almost growling mid sentence.

rafayel

another “masterpiece” painted by rafayel, another boring exhibition he had to attend. it was all the same. he had to talk about his pieces, what inspired him, what the story is behind the piece, blah blah blah.

this exhibition was different because he had you by his side to distract him from all the boring stuff. he stood by on the side, watching as you walked around, admiring each of his new paintings, which were all inspired by you.

all was fine until a man approached his girlfriend. his eyebrows instantly furrowed and his smile turned into a deep frown. just who was this guy??

“big fan of art?” the man said as he stepped into the spot beside you, a little too close for your comfort.

you looked at him slightly wide eyed, a bit startled from the sudden interaction. you smiled politely and nodded as you slightly stepped away from him, putting space between you and him. “yeah, i’m uh, close to the artist, you could say.”

“oh really? i happen to love rafayel’s works.” he said, smiling at you widely.

you nodded with a small, “ah, nice.” as you looked back at the painting in front of you which showed the silhouette of a woman standing in front of the ocean, capturing the essence of joy and warmth. little had you known the woman was yourself and rafayel had painted it simply from his memories alone.

“i’d like to take you out sometime-“

“sorry babe, i got held up with talking to some people back there.” a familiar voice sounded from behind you.

you turned and smiled widely as your boyfriend wrapped his arms around your waist. you couldn’t see but rafayel was glaring daggers at the man behind you, forcing him to walk away.

“rafayel! hi, i missed you.” you giggled as you hugged him. “say, who’s that in the painting?”

“you seriously don’t recognize her? come on, you of all people should know who that is.” he said with a chuckle.

“i should?” you said, blinking owlishly as you racked your brain to who that could be.

“it’s you, silly.” he said, kissing your forehead.

“really?! when did you paint it?” you gasped, looking back at the painting and leaning your head against him.

rafayel rested his chin on top of your head, smiling fondly as he recalled the memory. “i painted it a couple days after i took you to the beach. remember? you almost got stung by a jellyfish.”

you gasped and giggled at the chaotic memory. “oh i remember now!”

zayne

a friend from the association had invited you to a party and you were able to bring zayne with you. though he usually didn’t like to spend his days off like this, if it was for your enjoyment, he’d do anything. even if it was sitting through slightly drunken babble of hunter work.

zayne knew you could handle your alcohol, way better than him, but he still mentally counted how many glasses of wine you’ve had before it was time to call it quits for you.

unbeknownst to him, one of your female colleagues was staring at him, watching his every move like a hawk. it wasn’t until she sat next to him that he paid any attention to her.

“hello~ i’m ava.” she said, smiling and practically beaming at him.

“hello.” he said with a curt nod, before turning his attention back to you who was engaged in a conversation with other hunters, listening.

“oh my god, i’m so sorry. i don’t mean to be so rude! what’s your name?” the male hunter asked zayne.

“i’m zayne. i’m her boyfriend.” he said with a small polite smile.

“you’re the boyfriend we’ve heard so much about? wow!!” he said, astonished.

zayne chuckled softly. “it seems so.” he said, looking at you with adoration.

“you’re one lucky girl!” he said to you, giggling before turning back to zayne. “i’m tyler, her colleague.” he introduced himself.

you looked at him and smiled widely, wrapping your hands around his arm and leaning against him affectionately. “he’s a doctor, so he always takes care of me. especially when i get injured from pesky wanderers.” you said, smiling.

“can you take care of me too~? my doctor is too busy sometimes.” ava said from beside zayne, pouting and slightly leaning towards him.

zayne’s expression steeled as he turned to her. “maybe you should get a different doctor then. i too am busy most days so it wouldn’t be any different, if i were your doctor.” he said in his usual formal tone.

you whipped your head to look at ava, glaring at her. you never got along with her, and zayne knew. she was usually the topic of your conversations when zayne listened to your end of the day rants.

tyler began to ask zayne questions, moving the topic away from her, though it didn’t stop her from butting in and making her own comments, to which you were quickly getting fed up with.

“how long have you two been together for?” tyler asked you both.

“almost a year. our anniversary is coming up soon.” zayne said, holding your hand in his, his thumb gently rubbing your hand.

“a year is practically nothing! i bet i can make you happier than she ever could.” ava remarked, taking a sip of her wine.

everybody quieted down at the comment.

as zayne opened his mouth to speak, you stood up and slapped ava.

“i’m getting sick of you flirting with my boyfriend, right next to me. but disrespecting our relationship? nobody likes you ava, and i suspect this is why. i gave you a fucking chance because i wanted to be nice, but i have had enough.” you spat out, the anger sobering you up a good amount.

you immediately grabbed your things from your chair and zayne followed suit. “i’m sorry tyler, but i have to go. i’ll see you at work, yeah?”

“y-yeah..” tyler said, almost stunned. you could tell he was trying not to laugh. “see you at work, girl!” he said.

“come on zayne, let’s go.” you said, grabbing his hand firmly and walking out of tyler’s house.

once you were outside of tyler’s house, zayne had stopped you. “let’s rest here for a bit. you’ve had a lot to drink and i don’t want you to fall and hurt yourself.” he said softly, holding you by your waist as he leaned against the wall of the house.

you smiled widely as you leaned against him, your hands resting on his shoulders. “my zayne.. you always know how to take care of me.” you giggled out.

“of course. as your boyfriend, it’s my job to make sure you’re okay.” he said, smiling softly.

“you’re a bit too charming though,” you said with a pout, “you make women swoon too easily.”

“ah, but i have a very skilled ms. hunter to make sure they know i’m happy in my relationship.” he said, his hand coming up to cup your cheek.

you couldn’t help the giggle that escaped you as you put your hand over his, your fingers feeling his bare ones which made you pout. “maybe i should get you a ring so even when i’m not around, they know you’re taken.”

zayne chuckled softly, nodding. “i assure you, they know. but we can still go get rings, if you’d like my love.”

“i would like that very much.” you said, smiling widely before kissing him.

xavier

you knew xavier was a very jealous man, but he couldn’t help it! almost everywhere you went together, he kept you close to him, an arm always around you. what he didn’t expect was for you to be the same kind of jealous, almost worse than his even.

you were out grocery shopping with him when you had separated from him to look for something you needed for tonight’s dinner plans. he was strolling down the produce section when a woman walked up to him, seemingly lost.

“excuse me sir, do you know where i can find the meat section?” the woman asked him, her painted lips fixed in a pout.

xavier looked at her, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. the meat section was right behind her. he simply pointed behind her with his finger. “it’s right behind you.” he said with an almost dumbfounded look.

“oh silly me! thank you, mister…?” she trailed off, discreetly asking for his name.

“xavier.” he said, with a small nod and a polite smile.

“what a cute name for a cute guy!” she said, giggling.

“oh, thank you miss. but i have to get back to m-“ she cut him off before he could finish.

“i’m stella! say, would you like to accompany me to dinner?” she said, smiling widely and batting her eyelashes.

“oh, i-“

“he would not like to accompany you anywhere.” a familiar voice rung out, and suddenly the atmosphere became chilly. xavier almost startled as you sauntered up next to him, wrapping your hands around his arm.

“he’ll be too busy with his girlfriend.” you said, shooting an icy glare at the woman.

“oh! i didn’t know he had a girlfriend. sorry.” stella said before walking away from you both.

xavier let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, thinking he was finally in the clear. but he wasn’t. “thank-“

you cut him off, pressing a finger to his lips. “don’t. speak.” you said coldly, grabbing the shopping basket from his hands and walking to the check out lines.

“did i do something wrong?” xavier asked.

“you talked to her. you might as well have been making out with her or something.” you said as you sulked.

“my love, it didn’t mean a thing.” he said, trying to reconcile. “i promise you.” he said, wrapping his arms arouns your waist.

“i’ll poison your food as revenge.” you said, pouting angrily.

“i’m sorry, i really mean it.” he said, pouting back at you.

you sighed as you turned to him. “no fair!” you said before shaking your head. “fine. i forgive you. but i’m still angry with you!”

xavier couldn’t help but laugh softly. “i’m perfectly fine with that.”

caleb

after making up with him after his sudden reappearance, you found yourself at home, missing caleb more than ever. how could you not?

so you decided to pay him a visit at the farspace fleet headquarters. you got there once, you could do it again, right? right. and you did, with ease.

what you didn’t expect was a cadet in front of his quarters, folded note in her hand, her other hand in a fist, hovering over the closed door. “excuse me, cadet. what’s your business here?” you spoke with authority you didn’t have. (but she didn’t have to know that.)

her head snapped toward you, fear flashing in her eyes for a brief second before venom replaced it. “i came to give colonel xia an important document.” she said, shoving the piece of paper behind her.

you couldn’t help but let out a condescending chuckle. “a document so important it had to be folded like a love letter?” you said, trying not to laugh.

at your teasing tone, her expression soured further. “who even are you? i’ve never seen you around here.” she spat out, looking you up and down.

“i’m colonel xia’s girlfriend.” you said matter-of-factly, crossing your arms and pointing your nose up.

the cadet suddenly burst out into a fit of laughter, making you falter slightly before you felt irritated. how dare she laugh in your face like that??

before you could mutter another word, you felt a strong presence appear right beside you. “cadet.”

the girl in front of you stopped laughing almost immediately, her body rigid as she looked up at the man who just walked up next to you. “c-colonel xia..!”

“care to share what’s so funny, cadet?” you looked up to see caleb practically glaring at the now shaking girl in front of you, his jaw tense. you swore you could see his blood vessels about to burst.

“it was nothing, colonel xia.” she said quickly, her eyes now set toward the floor.

“get out of my sight cadet. the next time i catch you disrespecting my girlfriend, i will find a suitable punishment for you.” he said coldly before dismissing her, grabbing your hand and taking you into his quarters.

as soon as the door closed, caleb hugged you with the most warm smile that you’ve come to known, as if nothing had happened. “what are you doing here, pips?” he said, relishing in your giggles as he buried his face into the crook of your neck.

“i missed you, silly. isn’t it normal for a girl to visit her boyfriend at work when she misses him?” you said, smiling as you wrapped your arms around him tight.

“boyfriend, huh? now i like the sound of that.” he said, kissing your cheek gently.

“i have to fend off these girls somehow.” you said, smiling widely.

i’m sorry if this is lowk ass, i didn’t know what to write for caleb 💔💔

[cameronsbabydoll]

reader totally gives rafe the biggest lung crushing hug before he leaves for work every morning andddd in the process wrinkles his suit. which. before they got together it was always perfectly ironed but now he shows up to work with his blazer slightly scuffed around the midriff where she literally compressed his organs

So, every morning, he’d be getting ready for work—perfectly crisp suit, hair done just so, ready to tackle the day. And then, you would come in, all bright-eyed and bubbly, practically sprinting to him the second he’s putting on his blazer. And there you’d go, wrapping your arms around him, squeezing him so tight it’s like you want to squeeze the day’s stress right out of him.

Rafe would be taken aback at first, his arms stiff and his eyes wide. But he’s so soft for you, so he’d let it happen, even if you’re crushing the air out of his lungs. He’d feel the pressure on his chest, his breath almost caught as you hug him, and his heart would skip just a little bit because, well, you do this every day now.

But oh—the suit...

He’d pull back slowly, exhaling in a soft, annoyed sigh as he looks down at the crease in his blazer. “Damn it, baby,” he’d mutter, half-smiling, half-grumbling. His fingers would tug at the fabric around the middle, where it’s just slightly wrinkled, the midriff area where you practically compressed his organs. He’d press it down, but it’s never the same. It’s never perfect anymore. He’d glance at the mirror, frustrated, knowing he’s going to have to deal with that all day.

Still, he’d give you a half-assed pout. “You wrecked my suit again.” His tone would be low, just enough for you to catch the mix of mock frustration and endearment. He’d pull you close, one hand gently gripping your wrist. “You know I can’t show up looking like this.”

You’d giggle, brushing a hand over his chest as if it’ll help smooth the wrinkles away. “I’m sorry! But you look even better now. Just a little rumpled... kinda like you just woke up from a really good sleep,” you’d tease, giving him a playful wink. “Don’t worry, you’ll still look hot as hell.”

And Rafe? He’d hate it, but secretly love it too. Every time you squeeze him tight and mess up his clothes, he gets a weird satisfaction out of it. It’s like a mark that he’s yours. Not that he’d ever admit it out loud. Instead, he’d lean in, kiss the top of your head with a soft but teasing tone, “You’re lucky I love you, princess. Otherwise, I’d be pissed.”

And if you kept doing it? You could be damn sure that he'd purposefully leave a little wrinkle in his suit the next time, just to be able to blame you for it.

[odileeclipse]

In the Presence of Truth {"Sage of Truth" (SMC) x Reader} PT 4

<<<Previous Next>>>

The lecture hall was bathed in warm morning light, golden rays slipping through the tall, arched windows that lined the walls. Dust motes swirled lazily in the air, undisturbed by the murmured discussions of students and the steady cadence of Professor Almond Custard Cookie’s voice. You sat near the middle of the hall, quill in hand, pretending to take notes when, in reality, you were still replaying yesterday’s tutoring session in your mind. You hadn’t even fully processed what you’d learned, just that it had been frustrating, overwhelming, and, worst of all, that you had been caught skipping class. “(y/n) Cookie.” Your head shot up so fast your neck nearly cramped. Professor Almond Custard Cookie’s gaze was already on you, patient but expectant. You didn’t even hear the question. “I um…” You swallowed hard. Your heart pounded against your ribs as the room suddenly felt much, much smaller. Heat crawled up your neck. A few students shifted in their seats, waiting. You saw Chai Latte Cookie glance over at you from a few rows ahead, eyes full of sympathy as she mouthed the question to you “ explain the reasoning behind the fluctuation of magical energy during incantations”. Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie subtly leaned back in his chair, probably bracing for whatever disaster was about to unfold. Earl Grey Cookie raised an eyebrow, already looking as if he were preparing to scold you later. You should know this. You should know the answer. But oh, stars, you weren’t here for this lecture… "Magic, in its rawest form, is not a static force it is a conversation between will and reality." The words surfaced from somewhere deep in your mind, clear and certain, spoken in a voice far more confident than your own. "A wavering will produces wavering magic. But a forceful hand upon an untamed current does not guarantee control merely resistance." It spilled from your lips before you even realized you were speaking. “Magic… magic fluctuates because it responds to intent,” you said, voice steadier than you felt. “If a caster’s will isn’t strong, then the magic isn’t stable either. But if you try too hard to control it, it resists.” Silence followed. Professor Almond Custard Cookie regarded you with a thoughtful expression. “Well put,” he said at last. “That is a more philosophical approach, but not incorrect. Magic is reactive, and understanding its behavior requires more than just rigid control; it demands awareness. That is something many students take years to grasp.” The tension in your chest released all at once. You sank back into your seat, breath uneven. You got it right. You got it right. Chai Latte Cookie turned slightly in her chair, eyes sparkling with excitement. Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie gave you an approving nod, and even Earl Grey Cookie, ever the skeptic, looked mildly impressed. You exhaled, hands still trembling slightly as you picked up your quill again. You weren’t sure if you’d be able to pull that off again. But for now, you let yourself have this one moment.

As soon as class ended, you let out a breath you hadn’t even realized you were holding. The moment Professor Almond Custard Cookie dismissed everyone, you all but bolted out of your seat, shoving your notes into your bag with shaky hands. Your heart was still pounding from the unexpected ordeal of being called on. The relief that you hadn’t completely embarrassed yourself was settling in, but the real victory? The fact that you actually got the answer right. And it was all thanks to Chai Latte Cookie. You spotted your friends gathered outside near the courtyard, where the warm scent of honey-drizzled waffles filled the air. Chai Latte Cookie leaned against a stone pillar, cup in hand, while Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie and Earl Grey Cookie stood beside her, already discussing something in low voices. "Chai, you absolute lifesaver," you called out the moment you reached them, still breathless from your hurried escape. She blinked in surprise before breaking into a grin. "Okay, okay-what did I do now?" "You mouthed the question to me! If you hadn’t, I would’ve sat there like a complete fool." You ran a hand through your hair, still overwhelmed by how close you had been to disaster. Chai Latte Cookie smirked, taking another sip of her drink. "Oh, that? Yeah, you looked completely lost. I figured I should help before you just… shut down." "If you hadn’t-stars, I would've just sat there like an idiot." You ran a hand down your face, still overwhelmed by how close you'd come to disaster.. "I panicked, saw you mouthing the words, and then I don’t even know, I just said it without thinking. And somehow, it was right." Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie chuckled. "Now that’s a first." "Don’t jinx it," you shot back. Earl Grey Cookie adjusted his glasses. "You did sound surprisingly confident." "I mean, it was mostly panic," you admitted. "But I think… I think I remembered something the Sage of Truth said during tutoring. I didn’t even realize I memorized it, but it just came out." Chai Latte Cookie’s eyebrows shot up. "Wait, so he’s already getting through to you?" Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie gave an impressed nod. "That’s gotta be a good sign." You scoffed, adjusting your bag strap. "I wouldn’t go that far. It was more like a lucky accident." Chai Latte Cookie bumped your shoulder. "Lucky or not, you survived. Now, let’s go eat before your next class, because I don’t know about you, but I’m starving." "Yes, please," you groaned. "I need something sweet after that near-death experience." Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie chuckled. "Near-death? Dramatic, but sure." "Hey, you weren’t the one sitting there thinking your academic career was about to crash and burn," you huffed. Earl Grey Cookie smirked. "And yet, here you stand. Shall we celebrate with honey-drizzled waffles?" "You know, that’s the best idea I’ve heard all morning," you said as the four of you started walking toward the dining hall, the tension finally easing from your shoulders. Maybe today wouldn’t be so bad after all.

The dining hall was packed. The usual morning chaos of students scrambling to get food before their next classes filled the space with a constant hum of conversation, the clatter of trays, and the occasional exasperated sigh when a favorite dish ran out. You and your friends had to weave through the crowd, but miraculously, you managed to get your hands on a plate of honey-drizzled waffles before they disappeared. "That was way too close," Chai Latte Cookie muttered as she set down her tray, eyeing the empty serving platters at the counter. "I swear, these always run out within minutes." "Not surprising," Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie said, sitting across from her. "They are the best thing here." Earl Grey Cookie took his seat beside him, adjusting his silverware. "Good thing we got here when we did." You hummed in agreement, placing your tray down before finally letting yourself relax. That relief, however, was short-lived when you glanced across the hall and froze. There, at a long table near the center of the room, sat none other than Shadow Milk Cookie. He was surrounded by a handful of esteemed scholars, deep in conversation as they ate. You weren’t the only one who noticed. Other students stole glances, whispering among themselves. It wasn’t often that such high-ranking academics dined in the main hall, and seeing them all together like this was a rare sight. "I get it," you muttered, more to yourself than anyone else. Chai Latte Cookie gave you a questioning look as she cut into her waffles. "Get what?" "Why everyone’s staring." You tore a piece off your waffle, though your attention was still on the scholars' table. "I mean… it's not every day you see them here." Earl Grey Cookie followed your gaze. "They must have had a meeting this morning." "It’s weird seeing them outside of lectures or their offices," Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie added. "Makes them feel more… I don’t know. Real?" "Exactly," you murmured. Your eyes lingered on Shadow Milk Cookie for a moment longer. He carried himself with the same confidence and poise he always did, even as he ate. It was almost surreal, seeing him in such a casual setting rather than surrounded by scrolls and tomes. For a brief second, you wondered if he had noticed your presence, but his attention remained fixed on the discussion at his table.

Still, you couldn’t shake the feeling of being out of place. The scholars belonged in this grand space, speaking of things far beyond what you could comprehend. You, on the other hand, were just relieved you survived one class without making a fool of yourself. You sighed, turning back to your food. "Let’s just eat before our next class. I don’t need another reason to feel intimidated today." Chai Latte Cookie smirked. "Fair enough. But I am a little curious… did seeing him remind you of your tutoring session?" You rolled your eyes. "Let me eat in peace before we start that conversation again." Your friends laughed, and the tension slowly melted away as you all focused on your breakfast. The scholars, the staring students, the stress of class…none of it mattered at this moment. Right now, the only thing that did was enjoying your waffles while they were still warm. Chai Latte Cookie tapped her fork against her plate absentmindedly, eyes flickering toward Shadow Milk Cookie’s table once again. A small, knowing smile tugged at her lips. "I mean, I get it now," she mused, propping her chin on one hand. "The way people admire him? It’s not just because he’s some genius scholar. He’s got that whole ‘elegant intellectual’ thing going for him too. And look at him he makes it work." Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie let out a scoff, shaking his head. "You don’t have a crush on him, but you’ve been staring at him this whole time?" Chai Latte Cookie rolled her eyes. "It’s called appreciating good looks, Hazelnut. You don’t have to like someone to acknowledge they’re easy on the eyes." She nudged you with her elbow, smirking. "And you you’ve seen him up close. Be honest. Does he look just as good when you're, like, two feet away from him?" You blinked, caught mid-bite. "What kind of question is that?"

 "The kind that needs an answer," Earl Grey Cookie chimed in, amused. You sighed, glancing down at your plate. "I mean… yeah? He always looks put-together. Not exactly a surprise." Chai Latte Cookie grinned, satisfied. "Knew it." "It’s honestly no wonder so many people admire him," Earl Grey Cookie said, stirring his tea. "It’s not just the way he looks, he carries himself like he’s already three steps ahead of everyone else. And let’s be real, he probably is." Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie leaned back in his chair. "Yeah, but it’s not like any of that matters in a romantic sense. He’s way too deep into his studies to care about that sort of thing. He’s the Sage of Truth, for stars’ sake. You think someone like that is going to get distracted by romance?" Chai Latte Cookie hummed thoughtfully. "I mean, I guess that makes sense. It’s kind of hard to imagine him thinking about anything other than knowledge and philosophy." Earl Grey Cookie nodded. "And it’s not just that. His title alone probably makes it difficult. No one really sees him as just Shadow Milk Cookie. He’s the Sage of Truth. The name alone puts him on a completely different level." You stayed quiet, mulling over their words. They weren’t wrong. In all the time you’d spent watching him from afar before he became your tutor, he had always seemed untouchable, more an idea than a person. And even now, sitting across from him just yesterday, you couldn’t say that feeling had entirely faded. Chai Latte Cookie stretched her arms above her head, sighing. "Welp, guess that means everyone who secretly likes him is doomed to admire from afar." She smirked. "Not that it’s stopping anyone."

Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie scoffed. "Of course not. Scholars love their impossible pursuits." You chuckled, shaking your head as you pushed your plate aside. "Can we stop overanalyzing the love life of someone who probably doesn’t even have one?" Chai Latte Cookie grinned. "Fine, fine. But I still say he’s nice to look at." Earl Grey Cookie smirked. "And yet, you claim you don’t have a crush." "Oh, shut up." The conversation dissolved into playful bickering, and despite yourself, you felt lighter. Even with all your worries, there was something reassuring about moments like these…when your friends could make even the most daunting subjects feel just a little less overwhelming. After finishing the last bites of your breakfast, you and your friends finally pushed yourselves up from your seats, feeling the weight of a full meal settling in. "I think I ate too much," you mumbled, adjusting your bag over your shoulder as you trudged alongside them toward your next class. Chai Latte Cookie groaned in agreement. "Same. I swear, I always overdo it when they have honey-drizzled waffles. It's impossible to stop." Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie smirked. "And yet, you still act surprised every time." She nudged him playfully. "Hey, let me live." Earl Grey Cookie let out a sigh. "You’re all going to regret this when we’re sitting through Professor Marshmallow Root Cookie’s lecture. She drones on forever." That was an understatement. You were already dreading it. The combination of a heavy breakfast and a dull, slow-paced lecture was practically a recipe for dozing off.

As you entered the lecture hall, you slumped into your seat, already feeling sluggish. The warmth of the room, the low murmur of students settling in, and the soft scratch of quills against parchment were all blending into an oddly soothing lull. You blinked slowly, trying to focus, but the moment the professor began speaking in her calm, monotonous tone, your eyelids felt heavier. You barely registered Chai Latte Cookie stifling a yawn beside you. "If I fall asleep, wake me up before she calls on me," she whispered. "If I fall asleep, you're on your own," you whispered back. Earl Grey Cookie shot you both a look. "You two are hopeless." The lecture dragged on, the professor’s voice fading in and out of focus as your mind wandered. You knew you should be paying attention, but the combination of a full stomach and the lack of anything remotely engaging in the lesson was making it impossible. At some point, your head dipped slightly, only for you to jerk upright when Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie nudged your arm. You glanced at him blearily, and he smirked. "Caught you." You sighed, rubbing your eyes in an attempt to stay alert. It’s going to be a long class.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of lectures, hurried note-taking, and whispered side conversations with your friends whenever the professors weren’t paying too much attention. Despite your initial exhaustion, you managed to keep up though you had to fight off the occasional yawn. Between classes, the four of you lingered in the courtyards, stealing a few moments of fresh air before heading off to your next obligations. The chatter was light, filled with jokes and complaints about coursework, but as the day wore on, the inevitable moment came where you had to split up. Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie stretched his arms behind his head. “Welp, this is where we leave you. Try not to overwork yourself.” Earl Grey Cookie nodded. “You should take a break. You’ve been drowning in studying lately.” Chai Latte Cookie hummed in agreement. “We’ll meet up after, yeah? Let’s grab something to eat later.” You hesitated for a moment. “Yeah… if I don’t end up having to study.” Chai Latte Cookie gave you a look. “Having to?” You sighed. “I don’t actually know if I have to go today. He didn’t say anything about meeting again, but I don’t know if that means I’m supposed to just… show up.” Earl Grey Cookie raised a brow. “You could just not go.”  “Would that even be an option?” Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie added. “Isn’t he supposed to be helping you?”  “I mean, yeah, but…” You frowned, unsure how to explain the feeling. You weren’t exactly eager to put yourself through another grueling session, but at the same time, the idea of skipping, without permission felt just as daunting. Chai Latte Cookie shook her head with a knowing smirk. “Well, if you decide to go, at least you’ll get to admire his face again.” You groaned. “That’s not the takeaway here.” She just laughed as the three of them waved you off, heading toward their last lecture of the day. Now alone, you made your way toward the library, half-heartedly deciding to study on your own for now. Settling into one of the quieter corners, you spread out your notes in front of you, eyes scanning the material you had gone over in class. The concepts were almost there, but the understanding felt just out of reach. You tapped your quill against the parchment, trying to recall how Shadow Milk Cookie had explained things the other day. He had a way of making things sound simple but when it came to applying that knowledge yourself, it was like trying to catch water in your hands. Letting out a deep sigh, you leaned back in your chair. Maybe I should just go after all. For the next thirty minutes, you stubbornly tried to work through the material on your own. You reread your notes, cross-referenced your textbook, and even attempted to recall the way Shadow Milk Cookie had phrased things during your last session.

And yet, despite your best efforts, frustration built with each passing moment. The words blurred together, the logic tangled itself into knots, and no matter how many times you wrote things down or tried explaining concepts to yourself, nothing seemed to click the way it should. You rubbed your temples, staring blankly at the parchment in front of you. I should be able to do this. I should at least be able to get somewhere with it. But you weren’t. And as much as you hated to admit it, there was one undeniable truth: Shadow Milk Cookie would probably be able to guide you through this in half the time it was taking you to struggle on your own. You let out a long sigh, staring up at the high-arched ceiling of the library before finally pushing your notes together in a loose pile. “…Alright, fine.” You were going. Even if the thought of facing him again, especially after how embarrassing your last session had been made your stomach churn with nerves, you couldn’t deny that his guidance had helped, even if only in small ways. Packing up your things, you left the library and made your way toward the Scholar’s Wing. The halls were quieter now, as most students had finished their classes for the day. The further you walked, the more imposing the walls around you felt, lined with portraits of renowned scholars and artifacts from ages past.

By the time you reached his office door, you hesitated again, staring at the wood as if willing it to make the decision for you. You could still turn around. But then you thought about the work waiting for you, the confusion that still clouded your understanding, and the fact that skipping now would just mean struggling even more later. Steeling yourself, you exhaled sharply and raised your hand, knocking firmly before you could talk yourself out of it. There was no answer. You waited a moment, listening for any signs of movement inside, but silence greeted you instead. Still, after making the trek all the way here, you hesitated only briefly before pushing the door open. Empty. The silence stretched between you as you hesitated, your gaze drifting over the desk in front of you. Stacks of parchment lay neatly arranged, some covered in complex spell work you didn’t even begin to understand. Intricate diagrams, ancient symbols, carefully penned incantations it all looked so elegant, so effortless. You couldn't help but admire the sheer depth of knowledge before you, though it only served as a reminder of how far you had to go. Among the carefully placed papers, you spotted a stack of graded exams, a red quill mark slashing across the top sheet. 22%. You winced. Whoever that was, you hoped they were handling it better than you would. Before you could dwell on it, the door creaked open behind you, and you nearly jumped. “Well,” came the smooth, familiar voice of Shadow Milk Cookie, “you seem quite invested in my work.” You turned quickly, feeling heat rush to your face. “I-I wasn’t snooping! I just " You scrambled for words, gesturing vaguely at the desk. “I saw the spells. They looked… complicated.” His lips curled in amusement as he stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. “I would hope so. Anything less would hardly be worth my time.” Of course. That made sense. But that only made your stomach sink further. You hesitated before adding, “Are these… exams?” You motioned toward the graded stack, voice cautious. “Indeed,” he said, setting down the books he carried. “I was reviewing them earlier. Some fared well. Others…” He glanced at the paper you had seen. “...less so.” You decided not to comment on that. Instead, you took a breath and straightened. “Well, I’m here, so…” You gestured vaguely. “Are we starting?” His sharp gaze studied you for a moment before he inclined his head, a glint of something unreadable in his eyes. “Yes,” he said smoothly, settling into his chair. “Let us begin.”

You hesitated for a moment before glancing back at the intricate spellwork on his desk. Even if you couldn’t make sense of the symbols, the way the ink flowed across the parchment was mesmerizing, each line deliberate and precise. You shifted your weight before finally speaking up. “What does that spell do?” Shadow Milk Cookie, who had just begun organizing his materials for your lesson, paused. His gaze flickered toward you, then to the parchment you indicated. “You wouldn’t understand it,” he said, though not unkindly, just matter-of-fact. “I know,” you admitted, eyes still fixed on the complex markings. “But I still want to know.” Something in his expression changed subtle, but there. Amusement, perhaps. Or approval. He leaned back slightly, folding his hands atop his desk as he considered your request. “Very well,” he said, voice smooth and deliberate. “This particular spell is a binding sigil. One designed to anchor unstable magic and prevent it from unraveling.” Your brows furrowed. “Unraveling?” He nodded. “Some spells require precise stabilization. Magic, after all, is not as infallible as one might think. Without proper control, certain enchantments can collapse upon themselves…sometimes violently.” You swallowed. “Violently?” His lips twitched, just barely. “Magic is not without consequence.” You stared at the parchment again, trying to imagine how something so elegant could be dangerous. “And…Do students learn this kind of spell?” He hummed in thought. “In time. Only those who advance far enough in their studies. Such knowledge requires more than just understanding; it demands discipline.” You had a feeling that was his way of saying, Not you. Not yet. Still, you found yourself fascinated despite that. The idea that magic, even at its most refined, could be fragile and unstable was something you’d never really thought about before. You glanced back up at him. “Have you ever had magic unravel on you?” He let out a quiet chuckle. “You assume I would allow such a thing.” Of course not. He was the Sage of Truth. But even so… You couldn’t help but wonder.

You shrugged, leaning back slightly. “I don’t doubt your abilities,” you said, voice casual. “But surely you’re not immune to everything. Even with all your knowledge.” Shadow Milk Cookie’s gaze lingered on you, unreadable as ever, but you caught the slightest tilt of his head, the way his fingers drummed against his desk in slow contemplation. “Ah,” he mused, amusement threading through his voice. “So you propose that even the Sage of Truth is not infallible?” You hesitated. Was that what you were saying? The idea of challenging someone like him outright felt… foolish. But at the same time, the thought of any scholar, no matter how brilliant, being completely untouchable seemed unrealistic. “I mean…” You glanced at the spellwork again. “Even the most powerful mages have their limits, right? Even history’s greatest scholars were wrong about something at some point.” Shadow Milk Cookie’s smile was subtle, but there. “A fair argument.” He tapped his fingers against the desk once more before rising from his seat. “However, knowledge is not simply a shield against mistakes it is also the key to avoiding them altogether.” You frowned. “That sounds like just another way of saying you don’t make mistakes.” He let out a quiet chuckle, moving toward one of his shelves as he ran a hand along the spines of various ancient tomes. “Tell me, do you believe failure is an inherent part of learning?” “…Yes?” You blinked. “Isn’t it?” He pulled a book free from the shelf and turned back to face you, the flickering candlelight casting long shadows across the room. “Then,” he said, meeting your gaze, “what happens when one has already learned?” That threw you off. “Uh” Shadow Milk Cookie smiled, ever patient. “There is a difference between seeking truth and stumbling blindly in the dark. Those who study, who dedicate themselves fully do not merely hope to be correct. They know.” You weren’t sure how to respond to that. The confidence in his words was unwavering, and for a moment, you wondered if he truly never failed at anything. If his knowledge, his understanding, was so vast that mistakes had become a thing of the past. But… that didn’t seem possible, did it? “…You’re saying you never make mistakes,” you finally said, crossing your arms. “I am saying,” he corrected gently, “that I do not allow myself to.” That was such a him answer. You sighed, shaking your head. “Sounds exhausting.” His smile deepened, and for a fleeting moment, there was something almost knowing in his gaze. “Perhaps,” he admitted. “But such is the burden of truth.”

You leaned forward, resting your elbows on the desk as you studied him. “So… what’s it like? Holding that burden?” Shadow Milk Cookie’s fingers, which had been idly flipping through the pages of the book he’d retrieved, stilled. His golden and blue eyes flicked up to meet yours, sharp and unreadable. For a moment, he didn’t answer. The air in the office felt heavier, the candlelight casting long shadows over the countless scrolls and tomes stacked neatly around the room. You hadn’t really expected him to answer, not fully but something about the way he looked at you made you think you’d stepped into territory few ever dared approach. Then, he smiled. Measured. Amused. And yet, it did not quite reach his eyes. “A curious question,” he mused, closing the book with a soft thud. “But I do believe you are here for tutoring, not to pry into my personal affairs.” You blinked. “I wasn’t-” His expression didn’t change, but you could hear the unmistakable amusement in his voice. “Were you not?” You hesitated. Okay, maybe you were prying a little. But could you really be blamed? He was a mystery, even to the most dedicated scholars of Blueberry Yogurt Academy. It wasn’t your fault that curiosity got the better of you. Still, you sighed in defeat. “Fine. Back to studying.” He nodded approvingly, settling back into his chair. “Good. Now, where were we?”

You exhaled, pushing aside your curiosity and flipping open your notebook. “I tried going over this on my own before coming here,” you admitted, turning the pages to show him your notes. Some lines were underlined three times, others had question marks scribbled next to them, and a few were hastily scratched out when you had clearly second-guessed yourself. Shadow Milk Cookie leaned forward, scanning the page with a critical eye. His golden gaze moved over your work carefully, his expression unreadable. After a moment, he traced a finger under one of your more frantic notes. “Here,” he said. “You made an interesting connection, but then abandoned it. Why?” You hesitated, glancing at the line in question. “Because it didn’t seem right? Or maybe I just confused myself trying to make sense of it.” He hummed, a soft sound of contemplation. “And yet, this was closer to the truth than your final conclusion. Tell me, what made you hesitate?” You frowned, gripping your quill tightly. “I wasn’t sure if I was making things more complicated than they were supposed to be.” Shadow Milk Cookie leaned back slightly, hands folding neatly in his lap. “The pursuit of truth is often complicated. Do not shy away from uncertainty it is the foundation of understanding.” You glanced down at your notes again, chewing on your lip. He made it sound so simple, but in practice, it was infuriating. “So,” you muttered, tapping your quill against the desk, “I was onto something?” A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Indeed. Now, let us refine your reasoning.”

You leaned back in your seat, stretching your arms above your head before dropping them with an exaggerated sigh. “That’s it. This is a monumental moment. It should be celebrated.” Shadow Milk Cookie merely blinked at you, unimpressed. “Understanding the material is its own reward.” You rolled your eyes but grinned anyway. “Okay, yeah, sure, but you don’t get it. I actually got called on in class today and answered correctly.” That seemed to pique his interest. “Did you now?” You nodded eagerly. “Yep! Professor Almond Custard asked me something, and I panicked for a second, but then the answer just came to me.” You gestured vaguely, choosing to conveniently leave out the part where you had simply parroted something he had said in passing. “I didn’t even hesitate, it just clicked.” Shadow Milk Cookie observed you with an unreadable expression before speaking. “Fascinating. And yet, you struggled to arrive at an answer only moments ago.” You coughed, suddenly feeling like you were about to be examined instead of congratulated. “Uh well, you know, sometimes things make sense in the moment and then get all tangled up later?” He simply hummed, his sharp gaze making you feel like he knew exactly what had happened. You cleared your throat. “Anyway, that’s not important. What is important is that I didn’t completely embarrass myself in class for once! That’s a win in my book.” Shadow Milk Cookie let out a soft chuckle. “Then I suppose congratulations are in order.” You grinned, sitting up straighter. “See? That’s the spirit.” He merely shook his head before glancing back down at the parchment. “Then let us build upon this success. You still have much to learn.” You groaned but didn’t argue. After all, if this method was working even if it was painstakingly difficult maybe you were finally starting to get somewhere.

The moment you stepped out of his office and the heavy door clicked shut behind you, you glanced left, then right just to make sure the hallway was empty. The coast was clear. A grin broke across your face as you did a quick little victory dance, fists pumping in silent celebration. You did it! Not only had you survived another tutoring session with Shadow Milk Cookie, but you had actually understood something today. And perhaps even more shocking he had said he looked forward to your progress. You let out a quiet, giddy laugh, spinning on your heel before catching yourself. Right time to act normal again. Just a regular student leaving a completely normal study session, no big deal. Still, as you made your way through the halls, you couldn’t help but replay his words in your head. "I look forward to the day you do." Maybe, just maybe, you weren’t as hopeless as you once thought. You practically floated into the dining hall, face warm, heart racing, and unable to suppress the grin stretching across your face. The excitement bubbling inside you was nearly impossible to contain you had done it. You had understood something, and he had acknowledged it. Your friends were already gathered at your usual table, chatting as they ate, but the moment Chai Latte Cookie spotted you, she perked up. “Oh. Oh?” She set her spoon down dramatically. “What’s got you so red and giddy?” Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie turned to look at you, immediately raising an eyebrow. “Are you sick, or did something actually go well for once?” Earl Grey Cookie smirked. “I’m guessing the tutoring session didn’t end in complete disaster, then?” You plopped down onto the bench, still feeling like you were buzzing with excitement. “He said…he said he’s looking forward to my improvement,” you blurted out, barely able to contain yourself. For a second, they just stared at you. Then-“Oh no,” Chai Latte Cookie gasped, clutching her chest dramatically. “You’re doomed.” Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie snickered. “That’s basically a binding contract.” Earl Grey Cookie shook his head in amusement. “You have to keep going now. He’s expecting progress.” You groaned, covering your face with your hands, but the warmth in your chest wouldn’t fade. “I know, but, I don’t even care! It felt so good to actually understand something today.” Chai Latte Cookie grinned. “You’re really hyped up about this. It must’ve been a huge moment.” You nodded eagerly. “It was! And oh he even told me about a spell I might get to see someday.” Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie narrowed his eyes playfully. “Might?” You huffed. “He didn’t promise or anything, but still! It sounded incredible. I don’t even know what it does, but I need to see it.”Chai Latte Cookie wiggled her eyebrows. “So what I’m hearing is that you’re obsessed.” Earl Grey Cookie smirked. “That’s how it starts.” You groaned again, but you couldn’t even be mad. You were too excited, too happy, too hopeful. This tutoring arrangement wasn’t so bad after all.

But for a moment you simmered down turning your head slowly toward Earl Grey Cookie, your excitement momentarily giving way to a deadpan expression. “How what starts?” Earl Grey Cookie sipped his tea far too nonchalantly for your liking before setting it down with a knowing smirk. “Oh, you know.” You squinted at him. “No, I don’t know.” Chai Latte Cookie giggled. “Come on, you’re practically glowing just because he acknowledged your progress. Next thing we know, you’ll be hanging onto his every word, thinking about what he’d say in every situation, wanting to impress him even more-” “I already have to impress him. That’s literally the point of tutoring.” You crossed your arms. Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie hummed. “Sure. But first, it’s admiration. Then it’s fascination. And before you know it…” “Okay, nope!” You cut him off, shaking your head furiously. “This is not that. I admire him like, like anyone would admire a role model! A teacher! A brilliant scholar! That’s all!” Earl Grey Cookie chuckled, leaning back. “Mmm. That’s how it starts.” You stared at him, mouth slightly open in disbelief. “You’re insufferable.” Chai Latte Cookie nudged you with her elbow. “Hey, we’re just saying. You look very happy about all of this.” “I should be happy! I actually understood something for once!” you argued, throwing your hands up. Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie snorted. “Alright, alright. We’ll leave it at that for now.” You groaned, dragging a hand down your face. “I hate all of you.” Chai Latte Cookie giggled. “You love us.” You huffed, stabbing your fork into your food with more force than necessary. You refused to let them ruin this moment for you. Nothing could kill your excitement tonight.

“You’re really that excited about tutoring?” Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie mused, watching as you practically bounced in your seat. “Not just tutoring progress!” you corrected, pointing your fork at him before taking another satisfied bite. Chai Latte Cookie grinned. “They’re glowing. Positively radiant. Like they’ve discovered the meaning of life.” “You know what?” You swallowed your food and leaned forward, a smug smile on your face. “I did discover something. That I’m not completely hopeless.” “A true revelation.” Earl Grey Cookie smirked over the rim of his teacup. Dinner felt like a well-earned reward after the day you had. The dining hall buzzed with chatter, plates clinking, and the occasional burst of laughter from students unwinding after their long studies. You could barely sit still, your excitement bubbling over as you told your friends about what had happened during tutoring well, most of it. You conveniently left out the part where you had nearly tripped over your own words in excitement. Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie raised a brow as he watched you dig into your food with unusual enthusiasm. “I’ve never seen you so eager to talk about tutoring before.” “It’s because they’ve been blessed by the Sage of Truth himself,” Chai Latte Cookie teased, resting her chin on her hands. “They’re glowing. Positively radiant. It’s almost magical.” You rolled your eyes but couldn’t wipe the grin off your face. “I finally understood something. And he even said he’s looking forward to my improvement.” Earl Grey Cookie gave you a knowing smirk. “And that’s how it starts.” Chai Latte Cookie giggled. “He’s just saying it’s a slippery slope. First, you’re excited about getting a question right, then you’re hanging onto his every word, and before you know it-” 

“Like I said before…I’m not obsessed, if that’s what you’re implying,” you interrupted, jabbing your fork in their direction. “I’m just… relieved. It’s nice to not feel completely lost for once.” “Fair enough,” Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie nodded. “Still, you should be proud of yourself.” Your heart swelled at the words. Proud. You weren’t sure when the last time was that you actually felt that way about your studies. Dinner wrapped up soon after, and as you parted ways with your friends, you found yourself practically floating down the halls, a lightness in your chest you hadn’t felt in ages. You weren’t sure if it was the food, the encouragement, or the fact that you had actually learned something today, but you felt good. No, better than good hopeful. With a near skip in your step, you headed back to your dorm, smiling to yourself the entire way.  Sleep came easy that night.

The morning sun cast a soft golden glow over the academy as you made your way to the dining hall, feeling lighter than you had in weeks. The weekend meant no rushing to class, no last-minute cramming, just a slow morning spent with your friends, enjoying a proper meal for once. The dining hall was already buzzing with life when you arrived. Students lounged around tables, chatting leisurely instead of hurriedly shoveling food in between lectures. The usual rush for the best dishes was still there, but with no class looming over their heads, people actually took their time.

You spotted Chai Latte Cookie, Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie, and Earl Grey Cookie sitting at your usual spot near the large stained-glass windows, already halfway through their plates. The sight made you quicken your pace, eager to join them. “There you are!” Chai Latte Cookie beamed, waving you over. “We were starting to think you overslept.” “You underestimate my ability to wake up when food is involved,” you teased, setting your tray down and plopping into the seat across from them. You had loaded up on warm pastries and fresh fruit something you normally didn’t have time to enjoy during the weekdays. Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie smirked over the rim of his cup. “I dunno, after that tutoring session, I figured you’d be spending the whole morning in the library or something.” You rolled your eyes. “Please, I’m not that studious.” “Yet,” Earl Grey Cookie pointed out, raising a brow knowingly. “From what you told us last night, it sounds like you’re finally starting to get things.” You hesitated for a moment, remembering the small victory from yesterday the way the words had actually made sense for once. You weren’t about to pretend you were some genius now, but you couldn’t deny that it felt good. “Well, yeah… I guess,” you admitted with a small shrug before grabbing a piece of fruit from your plate. “It’s weird. I don’t think I’ve ever actually wanted to look at my notes before, but last night I was just… excited? Like, I wanted to make sure I really understood.”

Chai Latte Cookie clapped her hands together dramatically. “Ladies, gentlemen, and scholars we’ve lost them.” You shot her a flat look as the others chuckled. “I mean, I get it,” she continued, grinning. “I can’t say I’ve ever been excited about studying, but it’s kinda cute seeing you all starry-eyed over actually learning.” You huffed, shaking your head as you took a bite of your pastry. “I’m just relieved I don’t feel like I’m drowning anymore.” “Sounds like the Sage of Truth is really working his magic,” Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie mused. “And here I thought his whole thing was making people’s brains hurt with riddles.” “Oh, don’t worry, that still happens,” you said, pointing at him with your fork. “But it’s like… I dunno, he makes it feel like you can get there. Even when it’s frustrating.” Earl Grey Cookie nodded. “That’s probably why so many scholars look up to him.” As breakfast went on, the conversation drifted away from the Sage of Truth and onto more familiar, easy topics. “So, anyone else completely lost in the tactical theory lecture yesterday?” Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie groaned, resting his chin on his hand. “Because I swear, I was hanging on by a thread.” Chai Latte Cookie let out a dramatic sigh. “Ugh, don’t even remind me. I don’t think I’ve ever written so fast in my life, and I still didn’t get half of it.” Earl Grey Cookie smirked over his cup of tea. “Maybe if you two actually reviewed your notes afterward, it wouldn’t seem so bad.” “Oh, I’m sorry, Earl Grey,” Chai Latte Cookie huffed, narrowing her eyes playfully. “Some of us like to have a life outside of class.”

“Mm, and yet, you’ll be asking for my notes later, won’t you?” Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie snorted. “He’s got you there.” Chai Latte Cookie crossed her arms with a dramatic sigh. “I’ll take my chances with my own notes.” You chuckled, pushing your empty plate aside. “I mean, to be fair, that class is brutal. Even if you do review your notes, it’s still confusing.” Earl Grey Cookie nodded. “It doesn’t help that the professor just assumes we already know half the concepts.” “At least you all get to take that class,” Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie grumbled. “I’m stuck with Arcane Structures, and let me tell you, if I have to listen to one more lecture on the properties of ethereal bonds, I’m going to lose my mind.” “Didn’t you choose that class?” Chai Latte Cookie asked. “…Yes, but I regret it.” You laughed, shaking your head. “Guess we’re all suffering in our own ways.” The conversation continued as you all finished eating, trading complaints about professors, assignments, and whatever else came to mind. Despite the grumbling, there was a sense of ease it was nice to just talk without stress looming over you.

Eventually, as breakfast wrapped up, you leaned back in your chair and sighed. “Alright, I think I’m gonna head to the library for a bit.” Chai Latte Cookie blinked. “Seriously? It’s the weekend, and you’re choosing to study?” You shrugged, stretching your arms. “I wanna see if I can actually get through some stuff on my own before my next tutoring session. You know, put my newfound knowledge to the test.” Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie raised an eyebrow. “Alright, who are you and what have you done with our friend?” You rolled your eyes. “Ha ha.” Earl Grey Cookie chuckled. “Well, good luck with that. Don’t burn yourself out.” “Yeah, don’t spend all day in there,” Chai Latte Cookie added. “We’re still hanging out later, right?” “Of course,” you assured them, standing up and grabbing your things. “I’ll meet up with you guys after.” With that, you bid them goodbye and made your way toward the library, feeling oddly eager to challenge yourself. Studying on your own had always been a struggle, but for once, you actually wanted to see how far you could go.

A/N Please enjoy!! and as always follow and reblog for more bangers 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

I am almost done with a couple of requests I'll probably revise and post tomorrow thanks for being so patient with me <3

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[gpcwsl]

Alessia Russo x Reader

Bedtime kiss

WC: 496

MasterList

Warnings: Lighthearted teasing, Brief moments of playful tension, Soft romantic gestures, short?

Song: Your Best American Girl - Mitski (I know it isn’t the same song as the picture - just listen to this one instead, lol.)

Alessia was already curled up under the duvet, her golden hair scattered across the pillow, illuminated faintly by the soft glow of the bedside lamp. She glanced at her phone, scrolling absentmindedly, waiting for you. Her familiar smile appeared when you finally walked in, her eyes warm and inviting as they tracked your every move.

“You took your time,” she teased, setting her phone down.

You chuckled softly, pulling on a loose t-shirt as you approached the bed. “Needed to finish up a few things,” you replied, slipping under the duvet beside her.

Her body instinctively shifted closer, seeking the comfort of your warmth. Alessia always waited for your goodnight kiss, a routine the two of you had developed over the last two years. It was her favorite part of every day — that brief, tender moment where everything felt simple and right.

She tilted her head slightly, her lips already pursed in anticipation as she turned toward you. But instead of leaning in, you reached out and switched off the lamp on your side of the bed, plunging the room into darkness.

There was a beat of silence.

“Uh… hello?” Alessia’s voice broke through, laced with confusion.

You didn’t respond immediately, adjusting the duvet and settling in comfortably on your pillow.

“Wait, hold on. Where’s my kiss?” she pressed, her voice a mix of amusement and indignation.

You bit back a grin, pretending not to hear her.

“Babe,” Alessia said again, this time drawing out the word dramatically. She reached over and lightly poked your arm in protest. “You can’t just skip the kiss! It’s illegal. Against the rules. Relationship sabotage.”

You finally turned toward her in the dark, unable to hide your smile anymore. “I’m pretty sure no one’s going to arrest me,” you teased.

“Well, they should,” she shot back. You could hear the pout in her voice, and it made your chest tighten in that familiar, fond way Alessia always did.

She shuffled closer, the faintest brush of her hand against your waist. “Come on,” she whispered, softer now. “Don’t leave me hanging.”

You sighed dramatically, as if you were truly contemplating your next move. Then, without warning, you leaned in and pressed your lips against hers. Alessia melted instantly, her hand slipping around the back of your neck to keep you close.

“That’s more like it,” she murmured when you pulled back, her voice low and content.

“Happy now?” you asked, even though you already knew the answer.

“Hmm,” Alessia hummed, settling back into her pillow with a satisfied sigh. “I’ll let you off this time. But don’t think I won’t file a complaint if you do that again.”

You laughed softly, closing your eyes as her hand found yours under the covers, fingers intertwining like they always did. “Noted,” you said, squeezing her hand gently.

And with that, the two of you drifted off to sleep, her steady presence by your side as comforting as the kiss you almost skipped.

[bookshelf-dust]

someone worth leaving home for

eddie munson x fem!reader

gif by @cowboylikemunson

word count: 2,695

warnings: some alcohol use, swearing, a little suggestiveness? otherwise pure fluff

synopsis: you’re not really one to go out on the town much. being at home is just…better. but maybe there are some people worth getting out of your pjs for.

a/n: the amount of time this has been sitting, left to collect dust because i just couldn’t get a good footing on it or decide what direction to go in is vile. but i finally did it!! and i think it turned out pretty cutesy. if you’ve been in the market for something fluffy to get through the horrors life brings you, i hope this’ll help. love you!! <33

————

“Will you quit dragging your feet, already? For one, you’re gonna scuff your new boots, which I paid good money for, and for another, we’re never gonna get close enough to the stage if you don’t pick up the pace.” 

Tatum skips ahead of you, her skirt flouncing behind her. You scoff, shoving your beat-up compact back into your purse, along with the wine colored lipstick you’d been applying. “I just don’t understand your obsession with bars. I much prefer drinking at home. In my pajamas.”

“It’s not gonna kill you to come out with me for one night.” Tatum says your name. “Besides, I already told you the lead singer is kind of your type…” The last word leaves her mouth with a sing-songy lilt to it. She pulls open the door to The Hideout for you. “God knows you need some physical affection,” she mumbles. 

“What was that?” you laugh, cupping your ear with your hand. “You wouldn’t happen to be shit-talking your best friend, now would you?”

Tatum flips her hair over her shoulder. “Sometimes shit-talking is the best form of motivation.” 

It’s not exactly light outside, what with the time change and it getting dark so early, but somehow it’s darker inside the bar. There are a few neon signs hung up on the wall, large beer company logos staring you down. Your boots immediately stick to the floor beneath you; peanut shells crunch under your heels. 

It’s the kind of disgusting that holds nothing but nostalgia and a strange sense of comfort. You go to take a seat at the bar, but Tatum is quick to grab your hand, pulling you across the oblong room and in front of a small-ish stage. Your brows knit together. 

“What do you want to drink? I’ll get it. These are the best seats in the house, and I damn sure am not about to let anyone take them.”

You spout off the first thing that comes to mind, hoping it’s even something this place will have. You bring your purse into your lap. “Best seats my ass.”

Tatum slams a glass down on the table in front of you. Your heart smacks against your ribcage. “Jesus fuck!” She laughs when you clutch your collarbones, eyeing the pinkish liquid in your cup.

“These might be the grossest seats in the house, but they sure are good for checking out the band.”

How she even heard your snide comment from the bar, you’ll never know. Tatum takes a swig from her beer, waiting for your eyes to widen. You decide not to give in to temptation. 

“You brought me here so you could ogle the singer in a shitty band in an even shittier venue?”

“Hey, beggars can’t be choosers.”

Your eyes roll back into your head and you take a long sip from the plastic straw in front of you. “And no,” Tatum continues, “you pessimistic little shit. I have eyes on the drummer—hello. Do you even know me? The front-running guy is much more your type. And he plays like, an electric guitar or something. You know what they say about guitarists…”

“Okay, stop. You sound so sure that you know exactly what my type is, and I just don’t think that’s fair, I mean, I don’t do that to you—holy shit…”

Tatum leans back in her chair, the front legs lifting ever so slightly. She claps her hands and giggles. “Ha! Told you so!”

The back of your hand makes contact with her clammy bicep. She takes it in stride. 

The band, a group of four, has appeared on stage, skin glimmering in what can only be described as a ghostly manner due to the cheap lighting. There’s a guy taking a seat at the drum set with floppy brown hair, an earring, and a ratty gray sweater on. “Does he have big sad eyes?” you ask Tatum, raising an eyebrow. 

She might as well have squealed. “You bet your ass he does!” 

You look at your best friend as the group begins to play a cover of something that sounds vaguely familiar—maybe you’ve heard it on the radio before—but that you can’t place. You won’t tell her, but you’re glad she dragged you here tonight. The love-dazed trance she’s in makes it worthwhile. You’re not gonna let her leave without getting that guy's number.

A quick glance around the place shows you that only a few other people are paying attention: the lone bartender, an older group of men, some possible teens in one of the corners sharing a pack of cigarettes. You swing your head back in the direction of the small stage, shocked to find the lead singer giving you a once-over. 

You can’t decide if you’re intimidated or intrigued. His mouth is just barely pressed against the microphone, his lips twitching into a smirk as you maintain eye contact with him. 

This man doesn’t look like anyone else you know. Sure, he’s got a similar style cut to his hair, the same dark jeans plenty of people wear in such a small town. But he’s the kind of person you can look at and just know that they’re trying to do bigger things. Reach for things bigger than themselves and the lives they grew up having. 

He seems to be wearing a couple different necklaces, a messy stack of brackets on his left wrist, an Iron Maiden shirt that’s been torn more likely from wear than in the depths of a factory. He’s the kind of gorgeous people write poems about. Hell, the kind of gorgeous people paint because they have to document it. Something about his bone structure, his lithe movements, the curve of his throat.

You find yourself unable to look away from him even as you sip your too-sweet cocktail. Your elbow nudges Tatum’s. You’re hoping that by leaning into her budding crush, yours will go unnoticed. Hopefully she’s forgotten about it since you haven’t said anything since he walked out. “You planning on asking for the drummer’s number before we leave tonight?” you ask, smiling when her cheeks flush. 

“I really want to. And they always seem to stick around after they play, to buy a beer or smoke in the alley out back. I mean, I did put on a push-up bra.”

Your shoulders shake with laughter. By the time their set is over, you’re pretty sure you only really knew one song they played—and that was only because your dad likes it. 

————

Tatum glances over her shoulder. You give her a lookin, raising your eyebrows and hands in tandem. She cringes, though it looks more like a victorious smile. She gestures at you with her index finger. Almost done. 

She’s been talking to the drummer—Gareth, you’ve now learned—for twenty minutes. You wish they’d just exchange numbers and head off in their separate directions already. The balls of your feet are starting to ache in your boots. 

You let your eyes flutter shut for just a moment as you relax into the brick wall behind you. God, you feel old. You’re ready for bed. 

There’s a shuffling sound off to your left, the slam of a door. “Shit, Gare, you got a light? Mines out.”

You look up, looking for a face to match with the voice you’ve just heard. It’s the guy from before, one of the others from the band. 

“Yeah, man, here.” Gareth fishes a silver lighter out of his pocket and passes it over. Tatum glances at you, jerking her thumb back in the guys direction. Well, he’s gorgeous, she mouths. You roll your eyes. 

Once he’s lit his cigarette, the still unknown man looks at Gareth and asks, “You about ready to head out?”

You grin to yourself, tuning out the rest of their conversation, their exchange of introductions with Tatum. You’re looking down at a particularly round rock when another pair of boots appear in your line of vision. Your head shoots up.

“Hey,” he grins, “Didn’t mean to scare you. I’m Eddie. Tatum said you’re with her?”

You let out a short, little puff of air laugh. “I am. My best friend since the seventh grade and the only reason I’m not in my pajamas by now.”

If possible, he’s even prettier up close. There’s a smattering of freckles across his nose and under his eyes. The sly line of a dimple drawing up next to his mouth. The first thought you have about him at this moment is how much you like his hair. 

Eddie chuckles, blowing the smoke from his cigarette away from you. “Ooh, are they good pajamas?” The playfulness in his question catches you a little off guard. 

“They are,” you start. “They’ve got Garfield on them.”

He smiles at you. “Cute. Poor Odie though, right? When’s he get to be on a pair of pajamas?” 

“Oh, don’t worry. I have a t-shirt with them both, so he’s not totally left out.”

Eddie stuffs a hand into his back pocket. “Good. I was worried. What’s your name, gorgeous? You know, so I can look you up in the book if I find some Odie pjs.”

Normally you’d be embarrassed by how quickly you’re being charmed by this man, but he’s so damn cute that you don’t care. You tell him your name. He smiles again, slower this time, and tells you how pretty it is. 

“I’ve never seen you here before tonight,” Eddie says. 

“It’s my first time. Tatum begged me to come out with her, but I know it was really just because she wanted your drummer’s number. Usually I’m happy to drink at home.”

Eddie looks over at your friend standing with his. Gareth is writing something on a gum wrapper. 

“Well I’m certainly glad I got to meet you. You looked very pretty out there. Hope we didn’t disappoint though?”

You wave your hands. “Oh, not at all! I enjoyed it. I liked the mix of covers and originals. You’re very good. You have a…strong stage presence. Very assertive.”

He drops his cigarette, snuffing it out with the heel of his boot. “Yeah?” There’s a sick little smirk on his face when he glances back up at you. 

You hum. “You’ve got that whole…rockstar look about you, y’know?”

“So…is all that stage presence enough for you to come back next week? You’ll only have to be out late one night. If you make it, I’ll buy you a drink. We can keep talking about how pretty you are and how you feel about my assertiveness.”

“Are you flirting with me?”

“Are you flirting with me?”

“Trying!”

The both of you burst out into giggles, enough so that Tatum and Gareth look over to see what’s wrong. 

A yawn from you interrupts the gleefulness. 

“Hey,” Eddie says, smiling at you. His eyes take on a pretty sheen. “I’ll let you go, alright? Before you pass out on the sidewalk.”

You stick your hand in your purse and rummage for a pen. “You have anything for me to write on? You know, so we could talk a little more and I can answer your question.”

Eddie never has shit on him. Suddenly he pulls out his pack of cigarettes, flipping it over and handing it to you. You snort down at the little box, but scribble your number in the white space anyhow. “I can also apologize for my shitty flirting,” you tell him.

“Practice makes perfect,” Eddie says. 

Tatum skips over, grabbing your hand and blowing a dramatic kiss at the two men behind you as she drags you away. “Goodnight, boys!”

————

“What the actual fuck are you doing?”

Eddie appears in the living room, a pair of ratty and worn pajama pants sitting on his hips, a hand in his tangled hair. 

“What’s it look like?” 

He tilts his head in order to make eye contact with you. “Some weird Exorcist shit.”

What he’s referring to is your downward dog pose. You took up yoga a little while back, not only because it gave you something new to do, but it also helps keep you grounded. This is not to say you’re perfect at it, but it’s fun. 

It’s been just over two months since you met Eddie. He’s always felt like he’s gotta do a hundred things at once, like he’s constantly on the go—being pulled in all these different directions. Wayne used to tell him that if he didn’t learn to relax, one day his head was gonna fly off and his body would just keep on running. 

Somehow being with you, being with a total homebody, has mellowed him out. He can’t quite explain it. Maybe the chemicals in him finally evened out (he thought that was part of puberty or something). Really it’s because he’s never really understood being grounded—not until you. 

“You can join me,” you tell him, lowering yourself to sit on your haunches. “If you want. It’s just some stretching.”

He settles onto your carpeted floors, pressing a warm kiss to the center of your forehead, his hand cupping the back of your neck, thumb caressing your hairline. 

“You gonna drag me to the hospital when I throw out my back?”

“Of course.” He watches, enamored, as you shift your position. “Here, I’ll show you my favorite one. It feels really good for your hips.”

You get into a child’s pose, letting your knees fall wide so that your hips open up and relief runs up your spine. The effects of sleeping in the fetal position—an Eddie glued to your side no matter how much you move. 

You look over at him and blink. Hesitantly, Eddie attempts to copy the way you’ve folded your body. His knees just won’t do whatever it is yours are doing. They’re not very spread and his back is a little too hunched.

“Shit,” he fusses. “This shit hurts! Must be some feminine magic or something. How are you not in pain right now?”

“Here, try this one instead.” Eddie gets into a cobra pose much easier. His back cracks and he groans.

“Baby, honey, sweet fucking woman of mine—I genuinely don’t think my spine was made for this.” He sits back down, mesmerized when you do a pigeon pose, saying how good it feels and how your mind quiets for a few minutes. 

Eddie chuckles to himself. Your head pops up. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing…I was just thinking that I also know of a few ways your mind could get real quiet.”

“Eddie!” you shriek, reaching out to smack his arm. “Be serious.”

“I am—”

“Come on, just do this one with me, okay? If you throw your back out I’ll give you a massage or something. Besides, relationships are about compromise! Think about how many pairs of my shoes are all sticky because I like you so much that I get dolled up and follow you to a hundred different bars to hear you sing.”

“A hundred is a bit of a stretch. But, I digress. I will try this with you, m’lady.”

Your body makes a triangle as you return to downward dog, coaxing Eddie with you. His hair falls away from his eyes and your gaze travels to the soft skin of his tummy, the sparse hair below his belly button. It’s at that moment that you realize Eddie is also eyeing you. His eyes are glued, very obviously, to your ass. 

“Eddie, this is supposed to be relaxing, stop ogling me!”

“I saw you over there. You were being a perv with those eyes, babe. Don’t act like I'm the only guilty party.”

“You first! You always start staring first.” 

“You’re right. And if I didn’t have a staring problem, you wouldn’t be doing this with me right now.”

“Technically, I made the first move.”

“You absolutely did not.”

“Yes, I did!”

“No, you really didn’t.”

You swipe at Eddie’s ankle, knocking him off balance. You shuffle quickly across the carpet, burning your knees but not caring. 

“Just shut up and kiss me already, Munson.”

Eddie just about tackles you, cupping your face and bringing you flush to his chest. “Yes, ma’am.”

————

note: none of the gifs or images i use are mine! i get most of my images from pinterest or here, and gifs from about the same. please let me know if i ever don’t credit someone properly!

[coquitokisses]

Messy hunt, beers and bad decisions | Dean Winchester

Pairings: Dean Winchester x female!hunter reader

Word count: 2.6k

Warnings: smut, mdni!! kinda enemies-to-lovers, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), slight choking if you squint, use of alcohol (they might be just a bit tipsy lol)

A/n: this took a turn I wasn’t expecting holy shit I can’t believe I wrote this 🙈 anyway, enjoy lmaoo (also, I know I said in the warnings that this was enemies to lovers, but I see it more kinda like frenemies to lovers lol)

You roll your eyes and let out a frustrated sigh for like the hundredth time while Dean was just going on and on about how careless and reckless you were in this hunt as he took care of a wound you had close to your shoulder, result of said hunt.

You both came to work on this vampires case, per Sam’s orders because he says he’s sick and tired of dealing with you both and that you need to sort out your issues and work in peace. So he decided it was a good idea to send you both on this case to “work on your issues”. Which he was kinda right, you do bicker a lot and you can see why Sam is getting sick of it. But in your defense, almost every time, it’s Dean’s fault.

“I swear, it’s like you do this on purpose.” Dean says

“Right, because I wanted to get sucked dry by a bunch of vampires.” You roll your eyes

“It sure seemed like it.”

Once you and Dean found their nest, you both headed there, prepared to kill them all. You kinda went your own way without noticing as you were following a vampire that led you straight into their nest where there were five more vampires that gave you one hell of a fight until Dean got there to help you.

Just in time, by the way, after they wounded your arm.

“You could’ve died in there!” He continued saying

“Alright, I’m sorry! God, can you just drop it already?” You snapped

“No! Not until you stop doing stupid shit like this!” His voice was stern

“I’m not a little girl!”

“Then stop acting like one, dammit!” He looked at you, his brows slightly furrowed and you could clearly see how mad he actually was

But not mad because you didn’t listen, which you never do most of the time, but mad because he almost lost you. Mad because he didn’t even noticed when you left his side. Mad because when he got there, you were very close to be their personal blood bag. He was mostly mad at himself for not being able to get there in time and they actually hurt you. It wasn’t bad, but they did.

You opted to not say anything back. He finished patching up your wound and then he went out to “get some air”.

You decided to go get a shower as you were starting to feel just a tiny bit tipsy after the few beers you had while Dean was patching you up, you were ready to get in bed after the long day you both had.

After some minutes, you come out of the bathroom, hair damp, with a long sleeve t-shirt that was long enough to cover the sleeping shorts you had on. Dean was sitting on the table, with a beer bottle of his own while cleaning up the guns and knifes, and when he heard the bathroom door open, he turned his head to look at you.

“I’m sorry for yelling at you.” He said, his voice was ten times softer than it was when he was yelling at you earlier

You sigh “It’s fine.” You replied as you grabbed the beer bottle you left on the nightstand

“You just.. you really pissed me off.”

You scoff “When do I not?” You turned to look at him

“Don’t play the victim card now.” He rolled his eyes “You know what you did.”

“I didn’t mean to stray from you, I thought you were right behind me.”

“That’s your problem, y/n, you always assume.” He said “You need to be aware of everything around you.”

“Can we please just skip the scolding again? I’m tired.” You said drinking the last of the beer that was left and then left the empty bottle on the table “So, good night.”

“Oh no.” You were ready to go to your bed but he grabbed you by the arm as he got up from the chair “We’re not done.”

He made you turn back around, your chest just inches away from his and his hand gripping your arm still.

“Okay, then say whatever you’re going to say so I can go to sleep.” You said, completely ignoring how close you two were

Because you were very close.

“You drive me absolutely insane, you know that?” His brows were slightly frowned

“You make sure to let me know every day.” You smiled sarcastically “And right back at you, sir.”

He opened his mouth to say something but immediately closed it back up. Instead, his eyes trailed down as he let out a breathy chuckle followed by a sigh. His eyes met up with yours again and you couldn’t help but feel nervous about how his green eyes were literally piercing you.

“Stop looking at me like that.” You pushed his hand off you and then you softly pushed him away

“Like what? Like I literally wanna leave you here stranded?”

“You know you won’t do it.”

“No, of course I won’t, but I desperately want to sometimes.”

“Sometimes I wanna stab you in the throat with my knife, but you don’t see me complaining.” You shrug

He just rolled his eyes and decided to ignore you. You grabbed another beer and then laid on your bed as you watched tv. A few hours later, Dean was now done with cleaning the guns and the knifes and he has just changed his clothes to something more comfortable to sleep.

“Hey.” He called you from the bathroom door and you turned your head to look at him “Let’s change that bandage, come on.”

You left the half empty beer bottle on the nightstand and then dragged your feet to the bathroom. You leaned on the sink letting out a tired sigh and just closed your eyes starting to feel really tipsy now.

“What’s the matter with you?” He asks taking off the bandage

“You.” You replied

“I haven’t even talked to you.” He says

You open your eyes to look at him “Your presence alone is enough to drive me crazy.”

“Are you still mad at me?” He asked raising an eyebrow

“Are you?”

“Actually, I am, but unlike you, I’m mature enough to put it aside.” He grinned

You scoff “Yeah, sure you are.”

“Do you want to sleep with a gauze on or you prefer another bandage?”

“Do whatever you want, I don’t care.” You replied letting out a sigh

He didn’t say anything else and just kept on cleaning the wound. He put a gauze over to cover it and once he was done, you were ready to head out of the bathroom until you felt his hand grab your arm.

You rolled your eyes “What now?” You turned around to face him

“Come on, y/n, can we just be at peace for once?”

“We were fine, but you always find a way to piss me off.” You say pushing his hand away

“Oh now I’m a bad guy for trying to get you to do things right?”

“It’s just the way you tell me those things! You’re acting as if I’m a little girl.”

“Well then stop acting like it and maybe I’ll stop treating you like one.”

“You know? You should take the advice, because sometimes you’re as insufferable as a five year old, I swear.” You snapped back

“No I’m not.” He rolled his eyes

“Yes, you are, almost every damn time, but better not say anything cuz then it’ll probably trigger your anger issues.” You say as you walk out of the bathroom

“I don’t have anger issues.” He frowned following you

“Of course you do!” You turned around to face him “Can’t say anything because you’ll go crazy and start a whole ass fight because of it.”

He rolled his eyes “Oh shut up.”

You scoff “Why don’t you make me, big guy?” You say turning back around and continuing walking towards your bed

Dean was looking at you kinda taken aback by your response, but he was quick to grab you by the arm and turn you around. And before you could even protest by the way he held your arm so tight, his lips crashed into yours sending an electric spark down your spine. It caught you by surprise but you couldn’t really resist not kissing him back. The way his tongue made its way into your mouth, exploring and claiming you, made it even harder for you to pull away.

You knew this was wrong and that it was something that you’d probably regret later. But the way the argument got so heated and, also, the effect the alcohol was having on you, you couldn’t push him away.

It was impossible.

Instead, you were pulling him closer by gripping his shirt with one hand and with the other one, you placed it on his nape deepening the kiss.

“God..” he managed to say in between kisses as he started to walk towards the bed, making you go backwards “You’re insufferable..” he breathes on your lips before kissing you again

This time, his hands traveled down to your thighs and he lifts you up making you wrap your legs around him. He made it to the bed where he laid you down and only pulled away so he could take off his shirt, after that, he was devouring your mouth again.

His hands were traveling up and down your body, leaving your skin burning. He managed to take your shirt off and started leaving kisses down to your neck where you could feel him leaving marks as he made his way down to your chest.

You felt his warm tongue on one of your nipples making you let out a soft moan as your fingers softly pulled on his hair.

He continued leaving a trail of kisses down your stomach and his hands were quick to pull your sleeping shorts down along with your underwear. You felt his breath on your thighs before he left soft kisses on each one and then, you felt his warm tongue running up your folds making you let out a louder moan that was music to his ears.

He was devouring you and hearing you moan out his name was only fueling him to keep going. But as much as you were loving the way he was eating you out like a starved man, you needed more. You needed to feel him.

You softly squeezed his shoulders and he understood coming back up to your mouth kissing you just as desperate as he was before.

“God.. take this off..” your hands went down to his pants to pull them down

“You sure you wanna do this?” He asked between kisses

“Please, just shut up.” You say almost out of breath as you pull his pants down along with his boxers

You put your hand on his chest and push him, making him lay back on the bed as you get on top of him putting your legs on each side of his body.

You could see in his eyes that he wasn’t expecting you switching positions like that, but he liked it. Hell, he loved it.

“Never thought I’d see you like this.” His hands ran up your thighs giving you a soft squeeze in each one

You lean down, just inches away from his lips and whisper “Then you better enjoy it because this is a one time thing, baby.”

A smirk was forming on the corner of his lips “God, I sure hope not.”

You got back up again and you finally sink down on his length, watching him trying his best to repress a moan, but that doesn’t really work when you take him all the way. His hands are gripping your thighs so tight that you’re sure is gonna leave bruises and his head falls back into the pillow as he closes his eyes, cursing under his breath.

You begin to move, rocking your hips in a slow, torturous rhythm that has him desperate to just grab your hips and thrust up into you, but he tries to control himself.

“Shit, baby.” He groans running his hands all over your body until one of them grabs you by the neck pulling you in for a passionate kiss “You feel so fucking good.” He mutters on your lips

You start to increase the pace, moving your hips up and down gaining some loud and the most hottest groans from Dean. His grip tightens, fingers digging into your skin as you keep up the rhythm. His breathing gets heavier, his control slipping with every movement.

And then he just snaps.

Before you can react, Dean flips you onto your back, pinning you beneath him in one swift motion. You feel like the air is knocked out from your lungs, but the way he looks at you, eyes dark, pupils blown wide, sends a rush of heat straight through you.

He doesn’t hold back. He grips your wrists with one of his hands, pinning them above your head as he lines up his dick in your entrance and thrusts into you hard, setting a brutal pace that has your back arching.

“Fuck, Dean! Oh my god..” you moan trying to get your wrists free from his grip

With his free hand he grabs you by the waist increasing his pace. He’s relentless, making sure you feel every inch of him with each thrust. His mouth is everywhere, your neck, your jaw, leaving marks and occasionally biting your lip softly.

He finally frees your hands and you immediately move them to his back digging your nails in it.

“Just like that.. don’t stop.” You choke out

“I won’t, sweetheart.” His hand wrapped around your neck, only applying a little bit of pressure “I’m not gonna stop until I have you trembling under me.”

He claimed your lips once more without slowing down his pace. Each thrust knocks the air from your lungs, the pleasure increasing with every movement getting you closer and closer to your release. His name spills from your lips in breathless moans, and he loves it. He loves the way you’re squirming under him and the way your body responds to his touch.

Dean’s control is slipping fast, but he doesn’t stop, not until you cum. He can feel you’re close by the way your body begins to tense up underneath him.

“Just let it go, sweetheart.” He mutters brushing his nose with yours, his green, dilated eyes staring straight into yours as he brushed his thumb on your bottom lip “I wanna see that pretty face of yours when you cum.”

His words alone were enough for you to cum, your body trembling, your orgasm hitting you like a train accompanied by a loud moan that made Dean smile satisfied.

“Fuck..” you whimper feeling the spasms of the orgasm slowly fading

It doesn’t take him long to cum as well. Thrusting deep into you, letting out the sexiest groan you’ve ever heard, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he spills every drop of his seed inside of you.

You stay in that position for a little while, until you could both catch your breath. You could feel his heart racing against your chest and yours was too.

He slowly pulled out of you and laid beside you, both of you looking to the ceiling wondering what the fuck just happened.

“Well that was one way to deal with our issues.” He says

“Oh shut up.” You roll your eyes “This is definitely not happening again.”

“We should argue more often so Sam can send us to work more cases alone.” He says putting his arms behind his head

You scoff “In your dreams, you sick fuck.” You say throwing a pillow at him before you got up from the bed

You could hear his laugh as you walked to the bathroom to clean yourself up and use the toilet.

“What the fuck just happened?” You muttered to yourself as you rubbed your temples while sitting in the toilet

You let out a sigh and shook your head trying to just forget about it because what’s done is done.

And if you were being honest with yourself, it was fucking good..

series masterlist • main masterlist

A/n: I need a cold shower 🫠

Taglist: @mychemicalfalloutpilotsstuff @multiversefanfics @ladykitana90

[sparkleyun]

7 minutes in heaven (pt 2)

part 1

pairing: jake x fem!reader genre: fluff, highschool au synopsis: after taunting you for an entire year, the last thing you expected was for a party to change everything between you and Jake. One simple game made you feel like you are talking to an entirely different person. wc: 2.7k warnings: none!! just pure fluff

The moment you step out of the closet your best friend is already at your side, eyes gleaming with curiosity. You barely register her rapid questions before brushing past her, your heart still hammering in your chest. The room feels too loud, too bright, too suffocating.

Jake is right behind you, you can feel his presence without even having to look back. The space between you two feels completely different. You don't know what to do with it, nor how to process what just happened in that tiny closet. The way he spoke to you in a serious manner, no teasing, no jokes, just his actual feelings.

He apologized, he admitted it.

He wanted your attention. He wanted you.

You need air, so without a word, you push past the crowd and slip out the back door, letting the cool night air hit your face. The sounds of the party are muffled now, replaced by the chirping of crickets and the distant hum of traffic. You inhale deeply, trying to steady yourself.

Your best friend follows, of course. She always does.

"Okay, spill." She demands, crossing her arms. "What happened in there? Because that was definetly not just two people sitting in a closet for seven minutes."

You hesitate, wrapping your arms around yourself. "He… apologized."

She blinks. "Wait, what? Jake Sim? Apologized? To you?"

You nod, chewing on your lip. "He said he didn't mean to actually hurt me. He was just trying to get my attention."

Her eyes widen. "Oh my God. That's basically a confession!"

"It is not!" you argue, but the heat rising to your face betrays you.

She lets out a laugh. "Oh, it so is. That boy has been messing with you all year because he likes you. Classic cliché."

You shake your head. "That doesn't make sense. If he liked me, why would he-"

"Because he's an idiot?" she interrupts. "Because he doesn't know how to just say, 'Hey, I like you. Wanna grab coffee sometime?' Some guys are like that. They tease, they prod, they push buttons because it's the only way they know how to get attention."

You exhale, rubbing your temples. "I just… I don't know what to do with this."

She shrugs. "Talk to him."

You stare at her. "Talk to him? Are you serious?"

"Yes! Clearly, you guys have some unresolved tension. And let's be real, you don't actually hate him. If you did, you wouldn't be out here freaking out about this."

You scowl. "I am not freaking out."

She gives you a look. "Okay, sure. And I'm Beyonce."

Before you can argue, the back door swings open again. Your stomach drops when you see who it is.

Jake, obviously.

Your best friend glances between the two of you, smirks, and then pats your shoulder. "I'll leave you to it. Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

You shoot her a glare, but she's already skipping back inside, leaving you alone with him.

Silence stretches between you, heavy and uncertain. Jake shoves his hands into his pockets, rocking back on his heels. "So…"

You cross your arms. "So?"

He exhales sharply, looking up at the night sky like he's gathering his thoughts. Then, he finally speaks, "Look, I meant what I said in there. I really didn’t think I was actually bothering you that much."

You hesitate before responding. "You were."

He nods slowly, accepting the truth of it. "Yeah. I get that now. And I'm sorry. Really."

Something in his voice makes you start to believe his words. Maybe the honesty? Or the vulnerability. This isn't the Jake you're used to. The cocky, teasing boy who always seemed to have a witty remark ready with that irritating smirk on his face. This is different. He sounds different, the way he's acting...it all makes it more believable.

You shift on your feet. "Why me?"

His brows furrow. "What do you mean?"

"Out of all people," you say, voice quieter now. "Why did you feel the need to get my attention?"

For the first time tonight, Jake looks nervous. He rubs the back of his neck, glancing away before muttering, "Because I like you."

Your body stiffens at his response, you couldn't tell if this was just another way for him to mess with you or not. Everything was so confusing.

He exhales, shaking his head at himself. "And yeah, I know, I went about it in the dumbest way possible. But I didn't know how else to talk to you. You always seemed so… untouchable. So focused, so above all the dumb high school drama. I didn't think you'd ever notice me otherwise."

You blink, taken aback. "Jake, you're literally one of the most popular guys in school."

"Yeah, and you've never cared about that. That's what I like about you. You don’t pretend to be someone you're not. You're just… you. And I've been an idiot trying to get your attention the wrong way." He says, the regret and guilt of his actions hitting him harder the more he thinks about it.

You don't know what to say. Part of you is still skeptical, but another part...the part that remembers the way his fingers brushed against your wrist in the closet, the part that can't ignore the sincerity in his eyes and voice...it feels something else entirely and it's taking over your heart.

You take a deep breath. "Okay. Let's say I believe you. What now?"

Jake hesitates, then offers a small, nervous smile. "Let me make it up to you."

You raise an eyebrow. "How?"

"A real conversation. No teasing, no games. Just us, tomorrow. Coffee maybe?"

You stare at him, considering. Before you can overthink it, you nod. "Okay."

The relief that washes over his face is almost endearing. He gives you a small, proud smile. "Okay!"

For the first time since you met Jake, you feel at ease talking to him. It was weird, really. An hour ago he was messing with you like he did all year long, and now it's like he's shifted into a completely different person, but you still keep your guard up.

───

Jake paced outside the coffee shop, shifting his weight from foot to foot. The morning air was crisp, carrying the scent of freshly baked pastries and coffee from inside. He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. He'd never been this nervous before, never over a simple meeting. But this wasn’t just a meeting. This was his chance to finally make things right.

When you arrived, he spotted you instantly. You were scanning the shop with a cautious expression, clearly unsure about this whole ordeal. The second your eyes met, he offered a smile, waving you over.

"Hey!" he said as you approached, his voice softer than usual.

"Hey." you replied, still wary.

He held the door open for you, and you both stepped inside. The warmth of the café was a stark contrast to the chilly exterior, the hum of conversations mixing with the whir of the espresso machines. You glanced around before following him to a small table near the window.

"Thanks for coming." Jake said, settling into his seat. He looked... different. Less smug, more sincere. It threw you off.

"You were oddly persistent about it." you murmured, placing your hands around the warm cup the barista had just handed you. "Figured I'd see what all the fuss was about."

He chuckled, but there was something hesitant about it. "Yeah, well... I wanted to talk. Really talk."

You arched a brow. "About?"

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "About everything. About how I've been an idiot. About how I should've never treated you the way I did."

You blinked, caught off guard by his blunt words. "I mean... yeah, you were kind of the worst."

He winced but nodded. "I deserved that."

For a moment, neither of you spoke. You watched him, waiting for the usual teasing comeback. But it never came. Instead, he looked at you with what seemed like a look of adoration. The eyes never lie.

"I didn't realize how much I hurt you until that night at the party," he admitted. "I thought it was all just... harmless. But it wasn't. And I hate that I made you feel that way."

You stared at him, fingers tightening around your cup. You wanted to be cautious, to hold onto your resentment. But there was something undeniably sincere in his voice. And that sincerity was making your heart do things you weren't ready for.

"Jake..." you started, but he shook his head.

"Just- let me say this," he interrupted gently. "I don't want to be that guy anymore. I want to be someone you actually want to be around. Not someone you barely tolerate for the sake of staying out of drama. I don't want you to hate me, and if you do, I understand. But I want to prove to you that being around me can be enjoyable, and that was all an act I put up because I was too scared to tell you the truth. I really am sorry..."

Your breath hitched. He looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered in this moment. He didn't just want to apologize, he wanted you to get to know him for who he really is, he just wanted a chance.

You didn't know what to say. So, instead, you took a sip of your coffee, trying to compose yourself. He watched you, waiting patiently.

Finally, you exhaled. "I don't know how to trust that you mean it."

He nodded slowly. "Then let me prove it. Let me make it up to you. However long it takes."

The weight of his words settled between you. And despite everything, despite the history, despite the wariness still lingering in your chest, you found yourself wanting to believe him.

You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head. "You're really persistent, huh?"

He grinned, leaning forward. "Is it working?"

You rolled your eyes, but your lips twitched into a reluctant smile. "Maybe. A little."

His grin widened, there was no smugness in it. Just relief and joy.

The conversation flowed easier after that. The tension melted away, replaced by something lighter. He asked about your classes, about your latest book obsession, about things he never cared to ask before. And it was nice, you were actually having a good time speaking to him, despite your original reluctance.

At one point, Jake excused himself to the restroom, leaving his phone face-up on the table. You weren't going to snoop, but when the screen lit up with a message, your eyes flickered to it instinctively.

Karina: So... are you two together yet? Don't mess this up, Jake!

Your stomach flipped. Why is your best friend texting him? Together yet? You hadn't even figured out what you were feeling, but she clearly knew something you didn't. And then it clicked. Before the party, she had been acting strange. Downplaying Jake's actions towards you? Inviting him while she knew how much he hurt you...

The truth is, Jake had reached out to her before that night. He had asked for help. That's why he came to the party, to find a way to talk to you.

// Jake ran a hand through his hair, pacing slightly as he held his phone to his ear. "Are you sure this is a good idea?"

Karina sighed dramatically on the other end. "For the hundredth time, yes. You want a chance to talk to her, right? The party is the perfect place. A little noise, a little chaos, less pressure, and you won't have to awkwardly text her out of nowhere."

Jake exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I just… I don't want to mess this up again. She already thinks I'm an asshole."

"Well, to be fair, you are an asshole," she replied, unimpressed. "But you're trying now, and that counts for something. Just be honest. And don't- don't act cocky. You do that thing where you smirk like you're untouchable, and it's annoying as hell."

Jake groaned. "It's just my face."

"Then change your face."

He laughed despite himself, then let the nerves settle in again. "And you're sure she'll be there?"

"Yes!" your best friend said, exasperated. "Now stop overthinking it. Just show up, be nice, and maybe, for once in your life, tell her how you actually feel."

Jake let out a breath. "Alright. I'll be there."

"Good. And if you screw this up, don't even think about texting me for damage control. It's all on you."

Jake chuckled. "Noted."

As he ended the call, he exhaled slowly. This was his shot. He just had to hope you were willing to take a chance on him too. //

By the time Jake returned, you were still processing it all but decided to play it off. He sat back down, oblivious to what you'd seen, and flashed you a small, nervous smile.

Your chatter continued for a while. It was weird. You had never seen this side of Jake before. It was polar opposite to his annoying and rude popular boy side, but deep inside, you could tell that that wasn't the real him. The person sitting in front of you right now is who he really is. Or at least that's what you were hoping for. You wanted to trust your instinct, you wanted to be right, but you just weren't 100% sure yet.

When the coffee cups were nearly empty and the sun was starting to set, Jake hesitated, fingers drumming against the table. He looked at you like he was debating something.

"What?" you asked, raising a brow.

He inhaled sharply, then let it out. "Can I do something crazy?"

Your heartbeat kicked up. "Depends. How crazy?"

He didn't answer, not with words anyway. Instead, he scooched closer to you and leaned forward slowly, watching for any sign of hesitation. When you didn't pull away, when your breath caught but you didn't move, he closed the gap and kissed you.

It was soft. Gentle. Nothing like what you would have expected from thee Jake Sim. It was hesitant at first, like he was afraid you'd push him away. But when you didn't, when you instead found yourself melting into it, he deepened it just slightly, his fingers brushing against yours on the table.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes searched yours. "Too crazy?"

You exhaled a shaky laugh, your lips tingling. "Maybe, but I can't complain."

His grin was radiant, but then his expression turned more serious. "I meant what I said before. About wanting to be better. And... I want to do this right."

You swallowed. "Do what right?"

His hand found yours, tentative but steady. "Us. I know it's sudden, and I know I have a lot to prove, but... will you be my girlfriend?"

Your heart slammed against your ribs. Part of you wanted to tease him, to make him sweat a little. But the bigger part of you, the part that had wanted this for longer than you cared to admit, was already giving in.

You squeezed his hand, smiling softly. "I think... I'd like that. But you have a lot to prove to me."

Jake let out a breath, like he had been holding it the entire time. His fingers tightened around yours, his grin breaking into something so genuine it made your chest ache. "If i had to, i'd spend the rest of my life making sure you know how much I truly love you."

a/n: omg I'm sorry this took so long to post I hope it's good at least 😭

Tags: @vivimura @teireiii @en-chantedtomeetyou @bloomiize

[fixated-cookies]

been thinking of this idea 4 a bit ... wanderer! (possibly also fem?) y/n cookie entering the faerie kingdom and meeting yan! pv and white lily, 'taking' them in and yeah. smut ensues ...,,,, PLEASE UGH IM SO DOWN BAD FOR THEM BOTHHHHHH

this took a while to brainstorm, i'm assuming this after shadow milk cookie got resealed into the silver tree and white lily became the new defender. bare with me you guys, I'm not far in the game PLEASEEE, I'm getting all my information from the fandom wiki and videos !!

WARNING- yandere, smut, dub/con

Perhaps as a traveler who explores the edges of earthbread, it was only natural your resources ran out. You're low on water, food, and in dire need of shelter.

You’re starving. Your throat is parched, your body weak. Every step feels heavier than the last. Your vision blurs. You just need to rest. Your eyes flutter, trying to stay awake. You accidentally stumbled over a root and crashed into the ground, knocking you cold out.

I think pure vanilla would find you first, perhaps he was on a stroll through the forest only to be welcomed to your battered body passed out on the ground. He would panic first, assuming you were possibly dead, and would immediately be at your side for assistance. After checking your vitals, he'll look you over, eyeing your injuries and dirtied clothes, performing his healing magic to heal your smaller injuries.

I always thought of pure vanilla as having a sleeper build, like, I know this man skips meals commonly but he's still a powerful ancient cookie. His physical prowess is going to be more advanced than a normal cookie anyway. Imagine—his robes and gentle posture hide the fact that his body has been honed through centuries of wielding magic.

he'll pick you up bridal position and carry you back into the faerie kingdom, grateful that you weren't injured heavily. He carried you all the way back to white lily's new home.

She opens the door, expecting Pure Vanilla’s usual return—but instead, she sees him standing there, cradling an unconscious traveler in his arms. Her eyes widen, her hands immediately flying to her mouth. "Wha..." She'd open the door wider, letting them in. "What has happened?" She would be so worried that something has happened inside the kingdom.

Meanwhile, Pure Vanilla is calm. His grip on you doesn’t waver. If anything, he holds you closer. He reassures white lily. "Don’t worry, Lily. Nothing has happened in the kingdom. Everything is safe. She was found just outside the kingdom, it seems..." He thinks quietly for a second "like she wandered for quite a while before she passed out❞

His voice is calm and unwavering, as he places you onto the couch softly, placing your head underneath a pillow to get you comfortable.

"They must have been so exhausted…" Her voice is soft, barely a whisper, as if speaking any louder might disturb you. She gazes upon you softly and empathetic.

Your consciousness drifts back slowly, warmth surrounding you like a comforting embrace. The first thing you notice is the soft pressure of a cloth against your skin. A warm, damp towel glides across your face, brushing away the dirt and exhaustion from your travels. Then, over your arms—small, delicate movements, as if whoever is tending to you fears they might hurt you.

White Lily Cookie sits beside you, damp cloth in hand, her delicate fingers brushing against your skin as she cleans away the last traces of dirt. Her dark fuchsia eyes are filled with worry, but also relief.

"Oh… you’re awake."

She says quietly. She offers a small, reassuring smile. She explains how you got here, how you most likely passed out in the forest somehow, and that her dear friend, Pure Vanilla, carried you back here to safety.

Next, you'll hear soft footsteps, your tired eyes fall onto Pure Vanilla, another soft smile on his face as well. "Ah...you're awake, that's good...Here have a drink, I'm sure you're parched." He offers a drink of water towards your dry mouth. Now...you were placed in their care.

Things go well for a while, their kindness allowing you to stay until you heal and get better. At least that's what you thought. Perhaps you feel like you're overstaying your welcome some days, feeling strange for not being able to help out because their just so kind they take on the responsibilities for you. There was a time you wanted to sweep just to feel useful for once, only to get the broom taken by Pure Vanilla.

As soon as you pick up the broom, his hands are already over yours, his grip gentle but firm as he takes it away. "Oh? You don’t have to do that, dear." His voice is warm, but the way he plucks the broom from your grasp is effortless, absolute. the smile on his face feeling mocking towards you. He reminded you about your injuries...injuries that healed days prior. Resisting the urge to roll your eyes into next year you simply went into another room.

Hell, even trying to help cook was a nightmare, you weren't allowed to touch the knife or be near the stove in fear you would get burnt and gain another injury. As if! You rejected many of their advances to shower you with their care and attention. You were only supposed to stay for a week at most, not nearly a month...

Of course, you tried to leave multiple times, which only resulting in them shaking their heads and convincing you to stay.

"its not safe"

"Please, my dear, just until it gets warmer outside?"

All different types of excuse, ring in and out your ear, but this time...you're putting your foot down. You gathered your belongings, not even bothering to stock up on food as you wanted an easy and quick escape.

Your fingers tremble against the doorknob, your heart hammering in your chest. Just a simple turn and you’ll be free. Just one step—

"Oh, dear… Are you trying to leave us?"

Pure Vanilla’s voice is gentle, almost amused, as if you were a child caught sneaking out past bedtime. You freeze. You turn slowly, gripping your bag tighter. He stands a few steps away, his usual smile in place, but his golden and blue eyes seem… dimmer.

White Lily is just behind him, her expression soft yet so very sad. She looks at you as if you’re breaking her heart.

"Is our care… not enough?" she whispers. You turn back towards the door.❝I appreciate everything, but I can’t stay,❞ you force out. You turn the doorknob—

Pure Vanilla moves.

He’s fast.

Before you can react, a hand cups your cheek, thumb stroking your skin. "Let’s not do this," he coos. "I apologize...if our care wasn't to your standards..." he sighs out. "I-its not tha-" you stammered out becoming interrupted by his soft hushing. White Lily steps forward, pressing a hand to your arm. Her touch is featherlight, but her grip does not leave.

They look at each other, gazes meeting each other. Pure vanilla mouth opens first"My dear… You look so exhausted." His voice is laced with something thicker, heavier than usual—like honey drizzling slow and golden from a spoon. "Wouldn’t it feel nice to lie down? Just for a little while?" White Lily leans in, her arms wrapping around you from behind, her warmth pressing into your back.

You open your mouth to protest "Just come with us. We’ll take such good care of you." Guiding you away from the door. Never once in your life have you seen yourself as weak, in fact, you being strong was one of the sole reasons of you exploring the world...but underneath their gazes...

You'll find yourself on their bed naked being peppered in wet kisses, them on both sides smothering you in their affections. Praises dropping from their lips like sweet syrupy honey. Your eyes are cinched closed in shyness and embarrassment of it all. He hums against your skin, his hands nestling into the crook of your thighs while White Lily nestles close on your other side, trails soft, petal-light kisses down the curve of your neck.

"You’re so tense," she sighs, voice dripping with concern. "We need to fix that, don’t we?" She gifts you a deep kiss. You can feel Pure Vanilla's long fingers teasing your cunt, rubbing tight circles onto your clit gently listening to your cute moans.

After getting you all nice and wet you'll find yourself arching you back into pure vanilla cock while licking at white lily's pussy. Her sweet moans and praises make you tighten onto his cock that's rutting into your cunt oh so deeply.

"Good—ah~ girl..." He groans deeply, tightening his grip on your waist. "Just let us...take care of you" his pace becomes quicker, eliciting a whine that vibrates into White Lily. Her hand lays onto your head gently guiding you onto her more sensitive bits.

"We love...you" she whines out, "So, so much"

Even when you cum onto his cock, even when you scissor against white lily. Their devotion and love will continue to suffocate you

-

Man this took all day to write, I kept writing myself into dead ends, hahaha sorry if the ending is rushed my brain just ended up shutting down. I think this is the longest (?) I've written on my blog? idk, writing for two characters is quite a challenge at times and I ended up burning out, criessss

[when42-0fallasleep]

Duke thought Tim's story about the mysterious flower shop was the effect of him skipping to many nights of sleep until the morning after that.

He had just finished his usual morning patrol as Signal when he saw something- some weird, green, giant aura light the Amusement Mile up. It gave him literal chills down his back, to be honest, but that's the more reason to check up on it, athough it hurted his eye to look directly at it.

Imagine the surprise he had when the center of that aura is a floating little girl, around Damian's age, with shocking white hair put into low twintails and black beret. She was also wearing a suit with turtle neck, long sleeves that cover her hands, and shorts under a transparent skirt, with a sliver belt with the buckle styled as the letter "D" with a "P" inside.

Suddenly, toxic green eyes turned to look at him, and she flashed a smile with too-sharp teeth.

"Hiya!" The little girl chirps, "The name's Phantasy! You're one of the Bats, right?" Duke nodded at that, "Phalya asked me to clean this mess here- and yikes, the ecto-contamination!"

Phalya... that's the name of the flower shop's owner that Tim talked about. Okay, it seemed like she kept her words.

"Ecto-contamination?"

"Oh, right, how should I explain this... uh," Phantasy tilted her head in thought, "It's the stuff that comes from the Infinite Realm, basically like, the equivalent of oxygen here."

Another mention of the "Infinite Realm", Duke noted, as Phantasy continued.

"Well, I've taken the plants away, and purify the air too! You're welcome by the way. But still, keep this place closed for at least a week for sure," The little girl smiled, "Well, that's that, buh by-"

"Wait!"

Phantasy flinched a little at Duke grabbed her hand.

"Uh... sorry, didn't mean to scare you or something but..." Duke pointed to a street vendor nearby, "Do you want some ice cream?"

They got ice cream. Phantasy wanted a strawberry scoop and a chocolate one, so Signal bought it for her and got himself chocolate and vanilla.

The vendor's owner, a sweet middle-aged woman, then told him, "Now you should hurry back to your friends, my dear, it's too hot for that ice cream to stay cool for long."

Huh? But Phantasy was right here with him?

The little girl floating beside him just snickered as his confusion flashed by on his face.

Signal thanked the lady, then they both got to a rooftop nearby and sit down together with their ice cream.

"So... What is the Infinite Realm? If you don't mind me asking?"

The white-haired girl looked at him, like, looked at him. It felt like the clear suspicion in her gaze could dig a good hole on his face but more.

After a little while, Phantasy just shrugged

"Meh, it's not a sensitive topic, it's just... well this is normally not something the livings should know about, but okay," The white-haired girl said, then gave her ice cream a little bite, "The Infinite Realm can be described as the cross section between universes and the glue sticks them together at the same time. Non-living beings lives there, ruled by the High King."

Oh, so, is she a ghost? That should explain why the ice cream lady didn't see her then.

"So... like, ghost? You are one right?"

"Yeah! But ghosts like me are just like, a largely populated ethnicity in the Realm," Phantasy quipped, "There are ghosts, shades, neverborns, gods, angels, Ancients, et cetera. All non-living beings."

"Shades are different from ghosts? And what are neverborns and Ancients?"

"Gosh, Phalya is right! Your Bats ask too much!" Phantasy chuckled, "Yes, shades are different! Well, not that much, but like, okay," She then stopped to take a breath.

Well, this seems to be a long answer. But Duke got the time anyways.

"Both ghosts and shades are formed by lingering emotions, but ghosts are people died with hell lots of them and enough ectoplasm. Shades just, don't have enough ectoplasm to become a ghost or none at all, but a hell lot of shades can sometimes merge into one, but that's unstable and don't last long because they can't form a core. They would just scatter into shades again."

Phantasy took another bite of her ice cream, then licked the cone a little for the melted part, before continueing, "Neverborns are just like the name suggests: they aren't born from the living. Some formed by concepts like time, space, stuff like that- that's the Ancients. Some other are created by ghosts, like their child of sort. Some are clones of ghosts, and they are called mirrorborns! Like me!"

Wow, that was a lot. Thankfully his helmet had recording features so he could review it later.

"You guys have a king?"

"Oh, yeah, we do," Phantasy nodded, "He's super chill! People always praise him for being a savior since he defeated the last one- super tyrant by the way- and took the throne for himself! Well they don't know how much of an ass he is though," Her voice sounded fond at that, and, "He saved me from my fruitloop of a creator."

...That sounds like a lot of trauma to be unpacked. But anyways, a King means a government, right? Maybe the Justice League might want to talk to him in the future.

But then, what should he ask now?

"Do you live around?"

Phantasy blinked at him, and Signal blinked back at her. He didn't know why he blurted that question out, either.

Then the smaller girl just chuckled.

"I'm just visiting, since most of my fraid is living here," She told him after a moment.

So there are more ghost around aside from Phantasy and Phalya- huh, they must be family, since their name both started with "Pha" after all.

"Fraid? As in, your family?"

"Yeah, fraid is the ghostly term for family!" Phantasy smiled, "And speaking of my fraid, I should probaly go to back to them. They are a bunch of worrywarts, so if I've gone for too long, they're gonna freak out."

And following her words, she open her mouth- with too many sharp teeth- and chomped the rest of her ice cream as she stood up, "See you later, Sunshine! Probaly!"

And she just... disappeared like that.

Hold on, Sunshine? Why did she call him Sunshine- right, he forgot to give her his codename.

Duke sighed. He could feel the incoming troubles in the future are not so far away.

Tim, in his Red Robin suit, with a lead-lined box by his side, secured by a strap across his shoulder, rechecked the address Poison Ivy gave him- to a flower shop with no name.

Normally plant problems in Gotham can be associated with her, but since she and Harley Quinn became official, they have promised to try not to harm the citizen. (Well, Harley promised, and Ivy didn't really gave her words, but everyone and their mothers now know she would never let her girlfriend down for life, so yeah.) But this is still her specialty, so questions are fine, hopefully.

"Plants is my specialty, yes," Ivy let out a sigh of disappointment, oh no- "But these types magiacal plants unfortunately isn't mine, nor Swamp Thing's if you are about to ask," Great, double sucks, "But I know someone. Normally she- well, normally her type of people keeps to themselves, but I think she would be interested in this."

And that was how he ended up here, a flower shop too close to Crime Alley for his liking, and well... Ivy vouched for her, but stranger danger never has an age limitation around here. And also he was still wondering how had he never notice the shop before in his life-

And the door to the shop suddenly openned.

There stood a girl with midnight black hair with a little olive tint under the light, lavender purple eyes with black eyeliners, black nails, and a black dress- the whole gothic vibe and all that. She raised her eyebrow at him, and, "Well? You've been standing here for like, 15 minutes. Come in."

He has been standing there that long?

"Oh, sorry, just, well-" Tim tried to calm himself. "Er, I have some questions related to a plant problem, and Ivy said I should come here to ask you."

"Ah," The girl nodded, "Okay, come in. And call me Phalya."

Phalya took Red Robin to a small room behind the counter, going pass the various pots and bouquets of various types of flowers under dim light, then sat him down next to a little tea table.

"Tea or coffee?" Phalya asked, to which he shook his head, "Well okay, your lost."

At the corner of his eyes, some vines then reached out to grab a teapot, and poured her a cup of some sort of red tea, to which she whispered a small "Thank you" and settle the cup down on her table.

"So, plant problem," Phalya started after a sip of her cup, "Pamela didn't told me much, just that you will come seeking answers soon. What kind of plant problem are we talking about now?"

"Pamela?" Tim thought, they must be close. Another question for later then.

"We found an unfamiliar type of radioactive plant suddenly appeared at 17:53 yesterday and released a type of weird gas that affect the citizens on Amusement Mile," It wasn't a pleasant scene at all, as the image popped up in Tim's mind: the dead quiet, the green air, the people lying everywhere.

"The effects started with a nausea, then fainting. We had to quarantine the place. We need help to make the antidote for it, but the plant didn't come up on any of our scan," Tim then pulled out a picture of the plant on his wrist computer, then showed it to Phalya, "This familiar?"

The goth girl put her cup down and studied the image a little, then raised a corcerning eyebrow.

"I know these plant, but the problem is that they shouldn't be here, at a large quantity," She mused with another sip, "They are plants belonged to the Infinity Realm, so it would affect the livings in a negative way. It's curable, don't worry, just let them rest in bed for a couple day. They should be all fine before..." Phalya stopped to think a little, "Right on midnight tomorrow. I will ask someone to cleanse the place for you guys, too."

That was... oddly specific.

Phalya must understand his confusion then, "Okay, I know you have a lot of questions, you lots of Bats and Birds always do," She put her head on one hand, and waved the other a little at him, "I can't answer them for you right now, since anyone that might have placed these babies here might be trouble. I know you have a plant sample in that box there, so I'll take that. There might be some clues."

At that, a vine came out from somewhere and take the strap off the box from him. Tim instinctly hold onto it, but the vines seemed to be stronger.

"Oh don't be like that, you won't find out what kind of plant it is anyway," She sipped her tea again, "I- well, we will find you later if there is anything to share... or not."

Tim didn't like her grin at all.

"Until then, Birdie."

Suddenly, a force pulled him out of the shop's waiting entrance to the ground outside. Tim landed with an "Ooof", then,

Then when he looked up, the flower shop disappeared.

[spicycinnabun]

for make me write: 🤖🤖🤖🤖

adore this au!!

The team had decided they were going for a beer after work. Tommy had skipped the last two outings, so he agreed.

He shouldn't have.

“Bring your girl along, huh?” Sal said. “We all wanna meet that little pistol you're bein' so tight-lipped about.”

All eyes turned towards Tommy. He didn’t react much beyond a quiet hmm, though his pulse jolted.

EB, who was busy organizing the tools in the rig, started getting noisier. Clang! Bang! Slam!

“I’ll ask,” Tommy hedged, pulling his chamois through his hands. She’s not my girl. She doesn’t even exist. “Not sure I want to subject her to you boneheads.”

Anderson laughed. “Aw, come on. We’ll play nice. Won’t we, boys?”

“Can I come?” EB asked abruptly, turning to face them, prybar clenched in his hands. His firemark darkened as their conversation halted.

Tommy frowned.

EB had never asked to join them before. They'd never invited him, either.

EB was always at the station. A permanent fixture. He only left to go on calls or to run errands.

It hadn't occurred to Tommy that he might want to come out and do something unrelated to his tasks. Maybe bots needed to unwind, too.

Eventually, there was a ripple of shrugs and okays.

EB looked to Tommy first, seeking. Tommy nodded. Then, EB looked to Gerrard.

Gerrard scoffed. “Fine. Just don’t break anything. We’ve spent enough on repairs already. You’re leaking money like a faucet, EB600.”

EB nodded, full bobblehead mode. “Y-yes. Understood, Captain.”

“I, uh... actually don't think the bar allows androids, EB,” Bailey interrupted, hesitant.

“Let me check.” EB’s LED flickered for less than a second. “Oh. You’re right. It's an anti-android establishment.” He failed to hide his disappointment, deflating like a balloon. “Um, n-never mind. You guys have fun.”

He turned back to the drawers of tools, arranging them much more quietly than before.

Tommy had seen the signs on the doors. It hadn’t bothered him before how androids were treated, but now that he was close to one, his feelings had shifted.

“We can go somewhere else,” he said. EB failed again to hide his reaction, this time a hopeful noise full of static. Tommy succeeded in repressing a smile, just barely. “The drinks there are overpriced, anyway.”

“I know a place that does flaming Thirium shots,” Anderson offered, eyebrows raising.

Gerrard sighed, breaking them up. “Alright, ladies. You can enjoy your cocktails and gossip hour later. Back to work!”

⚙︎

tag list: @brassm-tagged @leashybebes @thesuspiciousflyingjellyfish @setmeatopthepyre @bibuckeroo @station18908 @hmg621 @buffaluff @disastardly @figuringitoutaloud @bbbuckalou @ambernotember @theredrenard @hyperfocusthusly @tedious-waffle @screamlet @xmidhel @nochance-noway

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[777rare]

ASTROLOGY OBSERVATIONS PT.10

THESE NOTES ARE ONLY A STUDY OF MINE AND HAS/HAS NOT BEEN PROVEN YET, SO IF IT DOES NOT RESONATE WITH YOU, FORGIVE ME AS IT WAS ONLY A STUDY/OBSERVATION OF MINE.

I DO NOT PLAGIARIZE, COPY OR REWORD ANY OF MY FELLOW ASTROLOGY OBSERVERS POSTS AND I DEMAND THE SAME IN RETURN.

This also has an 18+ touch here and there so you can skip if you're uncomfy with such themes or YOU ARE A KID.

•I've observed that those who are born natural actors have strong Moon influence in their chart. This is because moon is responsible for our emotions and our ability to handle our emotions. Our ability to express what's deep within our mind and heart [expression does not just have to be verbal (mercury)].

So a native with strong Moon influence on the ascendant (esp. harsh aspects), or even venus and even having moon aspect asteroids like Actor or Talent can make us understand that they are born actors. These people become amazing and unique artists in any area of expression and emotions.

Even people with Moon in the 5th house, 10th house and 11th house become naturally born actors. These people are naturally very talented in anything expressive and informal (informal, in the sense, what allows them to expand and not be restricted, things that involve thinking outside the box and not having to curb down their talents).

I've noticed so many all rounders have this placement. I have also observed that people having moon aspect chiron or in water signs can make the person use their hurt emotions to better perform in acting (esp. when they have moon in the 10th house). Ex: Alia Bhatt, Tom Hanks, Vikrant Massey.

Even natives having moon in a water/air signs can become the most talented actor if they also have 5th house placements. Ex: Kamal Haasan, Rajnikant.

Examples:

From left to right:

1st row: Zendaya, Vikrant Massey, Kamal Haasan

2nd row: Lady Gaga, Tom Hanks, Alia Bhatt

• Saturn in the 5th house natives find it very hard to open up their heart easily. A lot of trust issues when it comes to love. These people do not date many people in their life but whenever they do, it goes on for a while like many months to even a year. Even a couple of years but finding a committed partner is not easy for them. When I say dating, I mean offline dating.

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• Saturn CONTRACTS while Jupiter EXPANDS. Whenever Saturn sits will result in contraction of the area often pushing the individual to try and expand that area or work on that area so it grows but all efforts result in slow progress along with little positive results. Wherever Jupiter sits is where there is massive expansion in your life and that area continues to grow more and more as you keep working on that area.

Ex: Saturn in 11th house = subjects related to friend circle, elder sibling, social settings, expressing yourself, future plans, etc.

Jupiter in 9th house = subjects related to knowledge, philosophy, various cultures and traditions, religions, foreign languages, travelling, pilgrimages, teachers, etc.

• How do you know if a Scorpio Mars really loves you? (Romantically)

Even if they're frustrated or angry, they'll try their level best to speak kindly with you. You are their soft spot. They can't look at you in the eye when they say hurtful stuff because at that moment they aren't feeling well and they know damn well what they're saying ain't true. They will never lash out on you..no matter how angry they are, they'll make sure not to throw that all on you.

From my observation, these people will literally say the most mean shit to anyone when they're frustrated, tired or angry. They won't mind lashing out on them or just saying them to 'fuck off-' when they are in a bad mood but they'll do the complete opposite with the person they love. They are very sensitive towards the feelings of the person they love and this can be quite a struggle for them to handle because they're so used to just saying mean shit to people without hesitation when pissed and now they don't wanna hurt the person they love aww😮‍💨 They'd rather go punch a wall than to say something extremely rude to the person they love.

[speaking from experience]

• Again, like I mentioned in my other post, A lot of people aren't aware that Moon is also a very sexually driven planet. Where Moon sits and which sign Moon sits in can indicate how sexual you are deep down, like what turns you on, what makes you want to have the baby of a person, what makes you wanna rip that person's shirt off, etc.

Example:

✓Moon in the 10th and 11th house or in Capricorn and Aquarius natives are freaky as hell deep down when it comes to sex. They want the type of sex that involves handcuffs, blindfolds, vibrators, tying up the hands, etc. They honestly want the type of sex that breaks the bed lol.

✓Water Mars and Mars in water houses natives want to get dominated by their partner. They want to be put on their knees or told what to do in the bedroom by their partner. They also like positions that involve lot of rotation and touching the partners most delicate parts like the nipples, etc.

✓ In astrology the flavours of food and types of food are represented by different planets, being:

Sweets are ruled by Venus.

Alcohol and drugs are ruled by neptune.

Salt is ruled by Saturn. Also dark coloured foods and bitter food.

Yellow or orange coloured Foods are ruled by Sun. Even foods with rich flavour and strong taste.

Red colour vegetables or food and spicy food are ruled by Mars. Also food that induce heat in the body.

Fats are ruled by Jupiter.

Milk, bland foods and dairy products are ruled by Moon.

Green and leafy vegetables are ruled by Mercury.

Consuming a lot of that food item can indicate that planet (ruling the food) being strong in the chart.

Few food examples for each planet:

Moon: Cucumber, watermelon, milk, coconut, papaya, water, algae, seafood (crab, mussels, oysters, clams…), cabbage, soups, noodles, eggs.

Sun: Citrus (orange, lemon), cinnamon, egg yolks, sunflower oil & seeds, ginger, saffron, grapes, peaches.

Mercury: Cabbage, Broccoli, Spinach, green Capsicum, nuts (cashew, walnuts, pistachio), lemongrass, dill, lavender, berries, fiber-rich foods (bananas, plums).

Venus: Honey, figs, mango, avocado, fatty food (duck grease…), greens, sugar, dates, cakes & biscuits, sweet potatoes, plantain.

Mars: red meat, spices (Chili, cayenne & sichuan pepper), tomatoes, basil, black coffee, curries, pepper, raspberries, redcurrant.

Jupiter: Fish, (peanut) butter, fried foods, seed oil, saffron, bananas, “umami” foods.

Saturn: Sesame seeds, Salt, lentils, oats, rice, pickles, kimchi, soy, root veggies (radish), durian, pickles.

• Is it just me or does every single person with water placements and 4rth,8th and 12th house placements always wonder how others go about their day without spirituality and the universal guidance...like I always wonder how can one even go about their day without chatting with the universe😅😂 but also I'm then very much happy and grateful that I was chosen among others to walk this beautiful path.

.

• Cancer over the 8th house/ Cancer Mars = Masochistic people. They love sex that involves biting, hickeys and yeah, all those kinds of stuff. My friend has this and she bites anyone she really likes and loves...yes, she bit me😂 and no,not like the literal biting, it's a soft kind of one don't worry. My fellow Cancer Mars's and 8th housers aren't cannibals, chill😂👍

.

• Where Saturn sits is the area we criticize more or get criticized and put down more than we are celebrated. Ex: Saturn in the 4rth house makes a native get put down, get a lot of empty promises and getting disappointed later and get hurt by their family, specifically the mother, rather than being appreciated for what the native has achieved and being motivated by his/her family more. This native's emotions and pain are also ridiculed or not taken seriously by their family members. Lack of emotional support and lot of criticism from the persons family.

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• Where Neptune site is where you are a little too liberal for the sake of 'the subject of the house'. Also you are a bit too open there or tend to overshared there too. Ex: Neptune in the 5th house = love, romance and fun. Neptune in the 11th house = Having friends and connection, etc.

Thankyou for Reading through this today!

Have a great day and I hope you all stay for the next one😊❤️

[thorne-kreizler-fanfiction]

-"Sometime during the night you both got rid of your clothes as your bodies demanded more closeness, your skin against his" YOUR BODIES DEMANDED MORE CLOSENESS, I'M SHOUTING

-"If the blade entered your king’s body a bit to the right or at a different angle, you would be sleeping in an empty bed and the only place you would be able to see Thorin’s face would be the marble effigy at his tomb in Erebor." You have no right to make me form tears like this

-"even if just for a moment" sTOP-

-"Now, however, in the darkness of the night, he is still yours, just for a while longer." oh-❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

-"The raven mane of his hair interspersed with silver strands, like veins of a precious metal encased in a rock" THIS WAS AMAZING WRITING AND VERY DWARVISH LIKE. I'm starting to suspect you are a dwarf…

-“Maralmizu, Thorin,” I need to close the computer and take a moment to regain composure-

-“'Can’t sleep?' he murmurs with a charming smile" MAHAL KEEP ME FROM GOING CRAZY

-Roäc!!!! I am going to CRY

-"A few clumsy niceties about how he enjoyed your time together and how he will always remember you, yadda yadda yadda." Lol. That's so sad but it made me laugh

-"This is the last time he plays you like his harp" ÄULE AND YAVANNA-

-"Nothing else matters beyond this little island of joy you created in the cruel ocean of time." stop this, please-

-"You are not afraid of the L-word any longer." I'M KICKING MY FEET

-THIS SMUT WAS SO CUTE😭

-ooh the amount of oceanic symbolism here😭

-"You are sure your hazy mind plays tricks on you. He has just called you his tiny songbird. He has called you his. No, you must have heard it wrong." STOP IT RAGNA I WANT TO ATTEND YOU TWO'S WEDDING BUT THAT CAN'T HAPPEN IF YOU DON'T SEE HE LOVES YOU TOO FOR DURIN'S SAKE!!1!

-"This blissful picture is not written in the stars, not for you." oh-

-"Perhaps they should have named him Stoneheart instead." oooh the dramaaaa

-"this is how a goodbye tastes like." STOP ITTTTT LATHALEA I WILL FIND YOU

-“Ragna… come with me to Erebor,” I JUST SCREAMED SOOO LOUDLY!!!1 FOR DURIN'S SAKEEEEE

-"No, of course not, you stupid, stupid Ragna! He just enjoys having you in his bed, have you forgotten about it again?" RAGNA STOP IT YOU ARE MAKING ME RAGE!!1!11

-"your own private map room if you wished so" I WANT TO CRY. HE'S SO THOUGHTFUL

-"His eyes are closed but you somehow know that they are as blue as his father’s." THE TURMOIL OF EMOTIONS I'M FEELING RIGHT NOW WILL MAKE ME EXPLODE

-"this is one of his flanking maneuvers" RAGNA YOU MAKE ME FUCKING MAD. JUST OPEN YOUR HEARTTT!!! WHY IS IT SO HARD TO ACCEPT LOVE??

-"looking more like a stone statue of one of his ancestors at the Main Gate of Erebor. Stern and lifeless." I want to cry. This writing is so great

“Tell me, Ragna. Let me hear it.” I screamed

-THORIN WHAT YOU DOINGGGGG YOU JUST HAD TO SAY "I LOVE YOU"

-"Instead, you have locked yourself in your rooms, trying to pretend that the world beyond your door doesn’t exist." I am fucking depressed and I feel a void in my heart

-i'm trying so hard not to hate on these two idiots but it's hard

-"One of Thorin’s braid beads. In your own bed." I'm crying

-"Since then, every day looks the same: work, work, more work, and staying at the office until late evening, until you are numb with tiredness." Oh I know how this goes. Trying to hide your heartbreak under piles of work papers. Yikes…

-"And then that bloody letter comes and turns everything upside down." MY HEART JUST SKIPPED A HEARTBEAT

-LATHALEA I HATE YOU FOR THIS AND BECAUSE I KNOW THAT NEXT CHAPTER WITH THORIN WILL HURT ME TWO

-I still have tears in my eyes...

All Is Fair in Love and Trade –  Part 6/9

Relationships: Thorin x Reader Rating: E Warnings: smut, angst

You can read the other parts here: The Masterlist Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 ...

For @gwen-ever 💙 Thank you for your support and help and everything else, you know yourself 🤩 A special thank you to everyone who has commented, reblogged and supported this fic! I'm really grateful to you all, you give me the strength to continue writing 💙💙💙

Khuzdul phrases: Maralmizu - I love you Zunshanush - [intimate diminutive] tiny bird Zunshanushê - my tiny bird

* * *

All Is Fair in Love and Trade, part 6/10

Later that night

A tear rolls down your cheek and you sleepily wipe it away. Last wisps of a dream are quickly fading away, leaving you slightly disoriented. You can’t remember much besides a lingering feeling of softness and warmth. Something tickles at the tip of your nose. Something coarse and reassuringly warm, just like in your dream. You open your eyes and it takes you a moment to realize that you are still in Thorin’s bed, cuddled up to his bare chest. Sometime during the night you both got rid of your clothes as your bodies demanded more closeness, your skin against his. Now your lover is laying down on his side, one of his arms resting against your hip, your legs entangled, You run your hand through his thick chest hair, but he doesn’t react to your caress, still in deep sleep. Covering his left pectoral, there is a dark blue tattoo of a raven, barely visible in the faint light of a single candle. The tips of your fingers are tracing its outline, admiring the detailed pattern, feeling the strength of Thorin’s body slumbering beneath his skin.

Your gaze shifts down, to the side of his abdomen, where a long, knobby scar meanders through the peaks and valleys of his muscles. It is not the first time you see it, but only now you have a moment to look at it from up close. There are so many tales and songs about the Battle of Five Armies and the bravery of Thorin Oakenshield that you know very well how it was inflicted. Azog the Defiler. If the blade entered your king’s body a bit to the right or at a different angle, you would be sleeping in an empty bed and the only place you would be able to see Thorin’s face would be the marble effigy at his tomb in Erebor. Thank you, Mahal. Thank you for sparing his life. Thank you for bringing him into my life, even if just for a moment.

You have spent two weeks with him, only two weeks of your long lives, but it was enough to make your heart beat faster. It was still worth it, no matter the emotional turmoil you have been through. You know that whatever you have found in each other’s arms is going to end before long, in a couple of hours, as soon as the dawn of the new day comes. The King will return to his mountain, leaving your heartache in his wake. Now, however, in the darkness of the night, he is still yours, just for a while longer. Your fingers continue their explorations, as if trying to commit every inch of his body to memory. The raven mane of his hair interspersed with silver strands, like veins of a precious metal encased in a rock, his strong neck, the powerful line of his shoulders and arms, his broad torso narrowing into lean hips, his sinewy thighs dusted with coarse hair, pressed against yours, his legs intertwined with yours. Yes, you will always have your memories, the memories of an arrogant, irritating king, of a daring warrior, of a splendid lover. Of your Thorin and that tender smile he gave you in your bed last night, melting your heart. Now, his face is peaceful, the lines of his usual frown smoothed out by sleep. You feel a sudden, irrational burst of warmth in your chest and before you can think, you hear yourself speak. “Maralmizu, Thorin,” a shadow of a whisper leaves your surprised lips, and you are hoping that the night will keep your heart’s secret safe.

The tips of your fingers once again brush against the raven tattoo, the bird’s eye watching you attentively, its beak shut. A silent witness of your moment of weakness. You place your hand over the ornament and feel how Thorin’s chest is slowly rising and falling.

This would be a good moment to leave, you think, to disappear in the darkness while you still have the strength to do it in a composed manner. You have just said your farewell and there is nothing more keeping you here. You cast one last glance at Thorin’s oblivious face and start carefully disentangling your legs from his.

Suddenly, a hand covers yours on his chest and you are staring into the clear blue eyes of your king. Well, there goes your strategic retreat.

“Can’t sleep?” he murmurs with a charming smile that makes your heart flutter.

“Your raven kept me company,” you smile faintly, your muscles tensing in anticipation of what is to come. Woman up, Ragna! You have always hated goodbyes, and, let’s face it, you suck at them, but you know Thorin well enough by now to expect a short and efficient one. Look, he opened his mouth. Here it goes. You hold your breath. “Roäc?” one of his eyebrows lifts in surprise and his gaze follows yours to his chest, his hand still covering yours. “So he has a name?” you point your chin at the tattoo, letting out a sigh. Just a moment longer, then. “I had the tattoo made in Dunland, after Erebor fell, to remind me of what I left behind.” his face darkens, his hand clutches yours. “I raised Roäc from an egg, we were almost inseparable. But then Smaug came and every dwarf alive had to leave the Mountain.” “And… what happened to Roäc?”

“He stayed. He would not leave Ravenhill nor his kin,” Thorin closes his eyes for a barely noticeable moment.

“I am sorry to hear it,” you answer, your eyes set at your hands clasped together. “I never thought I would see him again, and yet he waited for me for over 150 years. Roäc was the first raven to greet me when I returned… home.” He makes a small pause and you see his Adam’s apple bob in his throat.

“It must have been a happy day for you both,” you pat the image of the raven on his skin. “It taught me that one should never lose hope,” his intense gaze meets yours, and there is a new spark at the bottom of his eyes, something you can’t decipher.

“Hope…” you repeat. Hope. How ironic. Rapidly you close your eyes in an attempt to stop them welling with treacherous tears. Now is not the time, Ragna! You need to hold on a bit longer!

Thorin’s hand, still clasped together with yours, slides towards the center of his chest. You can clearly feel his strong heartbeat beneath your palm.

“Ragna, I…” he says. Oh. Absorbed by his words, you have completely forgotten about what has to happen now. You’ve had enough lovers to know where this is going. A few clumsy niceties about how he enjoyed your time together and how he will always remember you, yadda yadda yadda. After that, it will be time for you to leave for your chambers where a cold and empty bed is waiting for you while he is to return to his comfortable life in Erebor. The end.

You decide to save you both the embarrassment of that meaningless conversation and bid him goodbye in the only way you are good at. When you place your finger on Thorin’s sensual lips, his eyes widen in surprise, but not another word leaves his mouth. Instead, your hand moves to his bearded cheek, cupping it gently, enjoying the tickling sensation of his beard gently scraping against your palm for the last time. And then you kiss him.

He lets out a hum when your lips meet his. But this is not a ravenous, hungry kiss from before. It tastes like the first strawberries of summer, fresh and sweet, making your lips tingle, its careful tenderness going straight to your head. His hand sinks in the hair at your temple, his fingers gently running through your locks.

“Ragna…” he breathes against your mouth, his nose rubbing against yours, his thumb brushing against your cheek. But this is not the time for talking. You place a small kiss at the corner of his lips, and then another and another, sealing them with a myriad of soft pecks. His hand cups the back of your head and he responds, peppering your whole face with gentle kisses. He moves his lips lower and you stifle a small whimper when he repeats his ministrations on your neck.

“Ragna…” he murmurs against your throat, and then kisses you just below your earlobe, eliciting another whimper from you.

“Ragna...” his lips brush against your ear, gentle like a dove’s wing, making you purr with pleasure, while his hand starts unhurriedly travelling down your back, tracing the line of your spine, making you shiver with delight. This is the last time he plays you like his harp and you want to make the most of it.

Thorin’s hand slides down to your waist and then slowly, sensually travels up again, while his lips trail over the swell of your breast. Passion stirs inside you as you press your hips towards him, feeling the red-hot hardness of his manhood between you. A rumbling groan leaves him as his mouth attentively worships every curve of your breasts. Oh, Mahal, you want to feel him all over your body. When his thumb brushes against your nipple, a shadow of a moan escapes you.

“Ragna…” he murmurs once more. Now he is back to kissing your mouth with impossible ardour, and you are drawn to his eyes, darkened with lust. They remind you of a sea on the brink of a storm.

No, you are not going to let him talk. Not now. Not yet. Knotting your hands in his hair you return his kiss. You revel in the hardness of his warrior’s body against yours, sensing the signs of a coming squall that is going to carry you both away.

You place your hand on his chest and push it gently. When his back rests flat against the bed, your lips cover his, meeting in yet another sensual kiss. Your silky locks fall around you, a curtain of hair shielding you both from the whole world. Now, in this very moment, it is only you and him. Nothing else matters beyond this little island of joy you created in the cruel ocean of time.

Unhurriedly, savoring the moment, you straddle his hips. A spark of recognition flickers in Thorin’s eyes and a familiar half-smile appears on his face as his hand travels upwards along your thigh to rest on your bare hip. You wrap your hand around his silky hardness and guide it straight to your core.

“Ragna...” he purrs as you lower your body on him, taking in his formidable length, your breathing shallow. His fingers dig into your skin as you are impaling yourself in one steady push. It feels so ecstatic. So right.

He is buried in you to the hilt, but doesn’t move, waiting for you to adjust to him. You rest your hands on his chest, taking in deep breaths and finding his gaze. His eyes are like the late evening sky on a warm summer evening, adorned with flickering stars. A silly thought crosses your mind: if you were to make a wish now, would you see a falling star in his firmament, carrying it to fulfilment?

Please, stay with me.

“Ragna, lovely Ragna,” he whispers.

As you hover over him, Thorin cups your cheek, oblivious to your unspoken plea. There is something in the way he speaks, something sweet and tender, that once again makes you wish you could hear him say your true name in this tantalizing voice of his.

“Thorin,” you respond, leaning into his palm and brushing your lips against it. Your chosen name for his chosen name. Your heart for his passion. A fair exchange. No strings attached. One last time.

This is when you rock your hips against him for the first time. Not breaking the eye contact between you, you lift yourself up slightly only to slide all the way down with a sigh accompanied by his low grunt.

Don’t let me leave. Please, don’t go.

This slow, sensual dance of your bodies is what you would call lovemaking. You are not afraid of the L-word any longer. You pour your heart into every caress, every move you make. It does not matter if he doesn’t reciprocate your feelings. Yours will have to be enough for both of you tonight. It is your farewell gift for the king of your heart.

Please, show me, how can I melt your heart? How can I make you see?

Thorin’s hands are wandering across your skin, caressing you gently, as if he was admiring a marble statue sculpted by the greatest stone masters of Erebor. The intense feel of his manhood inside you is overwhelming. Taking in the new, incredible sensations, your body continues the slow, steady movements. Now it is not about chasing the diamond peaks of pleasure; it is about enjoying these precious moments between you for as long as you can. It is as if Thorin understands your thoughts, because his caresses become in an equally unhurried manner; his every touch is attentive and careful, leaving your skin tingling with delight.

I want this night to last forever. Please, let it never end.

His eyes are hooded with pleasure, the dark waves of his hair scattered across the pillows. Thorin is yours now, just for a few moments longer. Only yours. You press your weight against him, taking him in once again, rocking back and forth with a moan while he pulls you down, his hands caressing your back and buttocks tenderly. A whimper escapes your lips at this change of angle, all the sensations intensifying, your breasts pressed against his muscular chest.

Thorin’s hands firmly rest on your hips as he thrusts up into you, slowly, purposefully, again and again, finding a way to plunge deeper inside of you than ever before, not stopping, navigating you both through the wild waves of your ocean of passion.

“Ragna…” the sound of his deep, husky voice fills your ears as he thrusts into you once more.

With a stifled cry of pleasure on your lips, you give in to your passion. Your body tenses in with pleasure, waves of ecstasy washing over you, taking over all of your senses. But you are not alone. Thorin is there, not letting you go, riding out the storm beside you. You are holding onto him as if he was your raft on the high seas, your only salvation on the stormy waters of the ocean. A few more erratic thrusts and his delicious warmth spills inside you, making you shiver with pleasure. He is right there with you, sharing your bliss, your hearts beating to the same rhythm.

My heart belongs to you. Only you.

“Thorin…” you whisper into his skin, as you lay down, your limbs heavy with bliss, your cheek against his chest, clinging to him, feeling his arms closing around you in a tight embrace.

“Zunshanushê,” he murmurs back tenderly, his fingers running through your hair as the storm of ecstasy slowly subsides around you. You are sure your hazy mind plays tricks on you. He has just called you his tiny songbird. He has called you his. No, you must have heard it wrong. The word he must have spoken was Zunshanush. Just a tiny songbird. A pet name. A songbird from the Iron Hills he will perhaps recall from time to time with a smile, back in Erebor.

You wish the circumstances were different. You would have been his Ragna, and he could have been your Thorin. You would start each day with a kiss and braid each others’ hair every morning. You would fall asleep in a tight embrace every evening, just like you are embracing now. And then, a little pebble or two would appear in your lives, giggling, saying their first words, making their first steps, running happily around the mountain, learning to ride a pony...

Ragna, you need to pull yourself together and stop being mawkish. This blissful picture is not written in the stars, not for you. First of all, you are painting an ideal, overly romantic picture of your happy life with none other than the arrogant, bullheaded King Under the Mountain! Have you suddenly forgotten how irritating and full of himself he is? Have you forgotten how you both have your separate lives and completely different duties to fulfil? And if that wasn’t enough, there is the matter of you living under two completely different mountains, separated by days and days of travel.

You know what you have to do now. Get up, gather your things and go. You have to ignore the whispers of your heart and forget how good it feels to have his strong arms around you, once and for all. Need something to snap out of it? How about this tiny little detail: Thorin Oakenshield is only interested in your body, nothing more. Perhaps they should have named him Stoneheart instead. The only way you are going to have your “happily ever after” with that dwarf is in your dreams. Damn your luck and your silly feelings. Couldn’t you have fallen for someone else? Preferably not an extremely annoying and unfeeling king?

There is something wet on your cheek, and you brush it away, only to realize that these are your tears. You feel their salty taste on your tongue. This is how a goodbye tastes like.

“Ragna, what is it?” Thorin murmurs into your hair.

You press your face into his chest in panic. He can’t see that you are crying! The last thing you want is for him to pity you. Take a deep breath. That’s it. Calm down, Ragna, you can do it. You know how to hide your emotions. Imagine you are back in the council chamber.

“Nothing, it’s nothing,” you hear yourself say and then you clear your throat. “It is almost dawn, isn’t it?”

You can almost hear his heart beating in the silence that falls after your words. And then he takes a deep breath. “Ragna… come with me to Erebor,” he says, pressing his lips against your head.

Oh. You have not seen it coming. Does he mean…? No, of course not, you stupid, stupid Ragna! He just enjoys having you in his bed, have you forgotten about it again? The only thing that matters to him is not your sharp mind, but the thing you have between your legs! And now he is probably thinking that you will gladly obey him, like a lowly scullery maid, becoming simply yet another submissive woman in the long line of his conquests, just because his majesty wishes so! Over your dead body!

“That’s a good one!” a dry laughter escapes you as you feel a stab of pain in your chest. You hope Thorin doesn’t notice how much the sound you have just made resembles a sob. He doesn’t join your chuckles, but grunts instead.

“Does my proposal sound amusing to you?” his words rumble in his chest against your cheek. You sit up to face him, feeling the anger, the pain, the disappointment rising their ugly heads within you.

“Return with you? As what? As a lo…” great, here we go again. The L-word refuses to pass your mouth this time. “As the king's concubine?”

“Would it be that bad?” he rises on his elbows, meeting your gaze. “Come with me and stay in Erebor. You will have everything you could ever imagine, and more. New apartments in the royal wing, dresses, jewels, your own private map room if you wished so, and a table.”

“A table?” you frown.

“Yes, a table, and two comfortable armchairs by the fireplace. We will sit there in the afternoon and you will tell me how bad my ideas are and how much you dislike them... And yes, I will be the one to keep you warm in my bed at night.”

“Do you think I want this?” your frown deepens. Seriously. Is he that stupid?! It looks like you need to spell it out for him. “Do you think I would like just being just rich and doing nothing all day long while you are busy with the matters of state?” Thorin shakes his head slowly and sighs.

“For most of my life, I did not have any of these riches, but now I can use them in any way I wish. You deserve a life in luxury, Ragna...” he sits up and tries to take your hand in his, but you move away. You know very well that the moment he touches you, the moment you feel that pleasant tingling on your skin, you will agree to anything he proposes.

“What luxury would it be if I wouldn’t be able to speak with you nor anyone else for more than an hour a day or so? What about every single of my actions being closely observed and scrutinized by everyone under the mountain?! Oh, and I almost forgot about people bowing at me just because I happen to sleep in your bed! Is this what you think I want? A golden cage?!” you hear your heart pounding in your ears.

“Do not speak to me of golden cages!” he gives out a roar. “I lived in one, and I know how it feels, both inside and outside! If you come with me, you will not have to suffer any of it. I am offering you only what is best! Can you not see it?”, his stormy stare bores through you as he leans towards you, his eyes narrowed, his jaw set in anger.

“So now I am to throw my whole life away on your whim only to pleasure you every night?! And to be shunned when you are bored with me?” your hand clenches into a fist. Does he not see how much pain he has caused you already? Why is he adding more? Is he really that thick?!

“This is not…” he starts, but your fury takes over and you cut him off. You are not finished yet. “What about my career? Do you have any idea how hard I have worked to become Lord Dain’s advisor? How important my work is for me? Do you think I can abandon my responsibilities just like that?!” you throw words at him as if they were daggers. “And you have the nerve to propose it now, knowing how much depends on the upcoming treaty negotiations with Mirkwood?!”

“I do not care about Mirkwood!” he roars back at you. “It has nothing to do with you and me!”

“Well, then clearly we are of different opinions on this matter! A good negotiator thinks of everything before presenting their offer, and you clearly haven’t! Are you even speaking to the right person? Why me? You can have any other woman to warm your bed at night!”

“Ragna…” he growls your name in one long purr. “Are you truly asking me this? Have we not been enjoying ourselves?”

“This is not the point! Here, I’m respected, I’m making a difference, and in Erebor, I’d be just another bed warmer!” you spit out the last words as if they scorched your tongue. “Do not speak of yourself this way! This is not who you will be under my Mountain!” he slams his hand against the bed.

“Then who would I be? What would happen if you were to find yourself a queen? Would I be expected to keep on being your mistress, discreetly hidden away in the deepest corridors of the mountain? Serving her king whenever he feels like?” you feel the salty taste of tears on your tongue, an explosive mix of pain and rage running through your veins. A hazy image suddenly appears before your eyes, you looking at a sleeping babe in a beautiful bed as you brush one of his dark locks off his face. His eyes are closed but you somehow know that they are as blue as his father’s. “What if I were to give you a child? What life would I be expected to lead, along with your bastard son or daughter? Would we be required to live away from you, from anyone’s sight, not to offend your queen’s sensibilities? Or would we have to leave your mountain, never to return?! Do you really think I’m like one of your ladies, ready to fulfil any of your wishes, without a single thought?”

A dark silence fills the chamber for an eternity, or maybe it is just a few heartbeats. At this point, you are not sure any longer. Thorin’s bedchamber feels equally dark, as dark as the vision of your hypothetical, but quite probable future in Erebor. Luckily for you, you won’t let the stupid, arrogant dwarf in front of you destroy your life. Now he is glaring at you without a word, his own face set into a grim expression. And then he explodes.

“Stop this nonsense at once, Ragna! It won’t happen! Nothing of the things you said will happen! You are different! Do you hear me?!” Sparks of anger brighten his stormy eyes.

“How can you say that?! How do you know?! And am I truly different from other women who keep you company at night? Different how?” You demand. Did he really think you imagined him to act like a chaste and proper ruler from the ancient dwarven legends? Did he expect you to think that his nights in Erebor were filled only with peaceful sleep and thoughts about the bright future of his beloved kingdom? Seriously. Life is not a fairy tale.

The King opens his mouth, looks at his fisted hand and unclenches it slowly. Then he clears his throat and lowers his gaze along with his voice, “I sleep better when you are around.” He has to be joking. That sudden change in him baffles you. What is he up to? Is he trying to soften you up? What a cheap trick.

“Let me get this straight. The King Under the Mountain wants me to go with him to Erebor so that he has pleasant dreams?”

Thorin looks back at you, and you can notice a shadow passing over his eyes as he sighs.

“This is not what I mean, Ragna,” he says in a quiet voice.

You pause for a moment, tilting your head slightly. This… this is so unlike him. It takes you a moment, but then you understand. He is a great strategist, that is what they say about him, and this is one of his flanking maneuvers. Everything is a battle to him, even your last conversation. This is a way for him to gain an advantage over you and counterattack when you least expect it. You have to be on your guard, Ragna!

“What do you mean, then? Have you forgotten our arrangement? It was just an adventure, a treat to sweeten up the negotiations,” you retort, ignoring the stinging tears. You can’t stop them from running, you can’t swallow them any longer. Each of them burns a trail down your cheek. It hurts more than you expected it to.

“So it was all business to you? This? An additional hidden clause to this trade agreement?” he gestures at the crumpled bed sheets around you, his shoulders suddenly sagging. Now that shadow is cast over his whole face, its features set in stone. But perhaps it is just a trick of light. Because… he can’t be that sad, can he? It is not as if he was about to lose his favorite trinket. Besides, he has a whole damn treasury of them! He won’t ever notice your absence; while you… you know you will never forget him. You wipe off the tears from your cheeks. He follows your movements with his eyes, but never makes a move, looking more like a stone statue of one of his ancestors at the Main Gate of Erebor. Stern and lifeless.

“I…” for the first time in your life the words fail you. You feel his gaze burning your face. How can you tell him how you feel…? How can you find words to describe this shard wedged painfully into your heart, making you feel restless, clouding your mind, making you change into a helpless puddle of emotions every time he is around…?

“Tell me, Ragna. Let me hear it.”

But the right words don’t come. You will not give him the satisfaction of an answer so he can gain the upper hand and easily use you any way you like. The moment you tell him how you feel, you are lost. So you stare at your hands instead, trying to control their trembling.

Thorin waits for a few heartbeats and then speaks, as if to himself, “I see.”

He gets up from the bed and walks over to his desk, the light from the fireplace dancing over his muscular, well-honed body of a warrior. But you realize the time has come. From now on, the Thorin who held you close mere moments ago is out of your reach. Only Thorin II, King Under the Mountain remains. You search blindly for your clothes, your vision blurry. When you raise your gaze, he is already dressed, wearing a pair of loose trousers and a crumpled shirt that somehow makes him look even more alluring, and yet no longer yours to touch.

“You are right, Lady Ragna, this was just a negotiation.” he speaks coldly, in an official manner, and yet you notice a hint of anger ringing in his voice. Clearly, he is not as unaffected as he wants you to think.

You made him furious, and you are glad. An eye for an eye. He shouldn’t have offered you that humiliating arrangement. He shouldn’t have hurt you the way he did, but he did, and now he is paying for it.

King Thorin Oakenshield’s back is turned towards you, while his hands rummage among the papers on his desk. “I will not require you any longer. That will be all.”

Not able to utter even a word, you dress as quickly as you can, and leave his chambers, ignoring the shaking of your hands, and the heavy weight in your chest. This is for the best, isn’t it? So, what is wrong with you? Then why are you feeling the way he surely wanted you to feel? So worthless, so replaceable? As one of the many tools he would use in the forges, and then cast it aside when it is no longer needed, and then move from one anvil to another. An object. That is what he made you feel like. Once something useful, something important in a way, now an useless piece of scrap metal. You are happy he is suffering, you are happy that for once you made him feel something, something that was not pride, nor triumph. You are happy, Ragna, aren’t you? But if you are happy, then why your tears won’t stop tonight, why every breath hurts so much, why do you want to turn back? Why do you want to run into his rooms and take back every word you said? Isn’t it exactly what you have wanted in the very beginning? A profitable trade agreement and a bit of fun on the side?

* * *

This is the last time you speak with the King Under The Mountain during his visit to the Iron Hills. You don’t get any sleep in the early hours of the morning, but you arrive to the council chamber for the ceremonial signing of the treaty, making sure you look your best, wearing the most lavish gown you own (the one with the deepest cleavage, to turn away everyone’s attention from your reddened eyes). You make a point of staring at the painting of Lord Dain’s great-great-great-great grandfather while he and the king make their speeches. His majesty signs the cursed treaty, but Thorin never graces you with even the smallest of his looks, his brow constantly furrowed, his gaze as stormy as the autumn sky.

Afterwards, Lord Dain applauds you for serving the Iron Hills admirably and securing favorable treaty terms. Everyone else congratulates you for another great success. Soon after, the King of Erebor leaves back to his Mountain. You should feel triumphant, but instead you hear that little voice inside you growing louder as the distance between you grows: “Was this truly what you wanted, Ragna? Was it?”

* * *

Thorin is gone. The king left the Iron Hills a couple of hours ago. You have never gone to the Main Hall to bid him farewell as everyone else did after the treaty was signed. Instead, you have locked yourself in your rooms, trying to pretend that the world beyond your door doesn’t exist.

Thorin is not here. Sitting down on your bed, you move your hand across the mattress, as if hoping to feel the lingering heat of his body. Unfortunately, the bedsheets are unpleasantly cold under your touch.

Thorin has left. He is not coming back. Your bed is empty. Just like your heart.

You are about to get up when your fingers find something small and hard beside one of your pillows. One glance is enough to recognize it. One of Thorin’s braid beads. In your own bed. As if you weren’t trying to forget that he was here, along with his warm gaze, gentle kisses and tender caresses. You still remember the way he held you in his arms. Something aches in your chest and you need to take a deep breath to chase the tears away.

Bringing the bead to your eyes, you recognize all the details. It is made of silver, and there is a small sapphire along with the rune “T” and the symbol of the royal house of Erebor etched in it. You barely register when your hands find one of your braids and clasp the bead around it. The glistening metal complements your hair color well. You steal a glance at your reflection in the bedroom mirror. This is how you could have looked like in another life. Sighing hopelessly, you shake your head. Oh dear, Ragna, is this how bad it got you? Dreaming away about wearing Thorin’s marriage braid along with his bead? Weren’t you supposed to hate being chained to another dwarf this way, surrendering your independence, your freedom? Ah, well. Last night made clear that certain things between you were never meant to happen. Forcefully, you pull off the bead from your hair and throw it blindly on the floor, your vision blurry once more, your cheeks wet yet again. Stupid Ragna. Stupid negotiations. Stupid king.

You decide to sleep on the reclining armchair in the study that night and every night since then. Every time you look at your empty bed, your mind makes you recall how it looked when he was there, so close to you, slumbering peacefully, not a frown sharpening his features. It hurts. You have to ask one of the maids to change your bed linen. Why? Because Lady Ragna, one of Lord Dain’s chief advisors, cannot be trusted to change her own bed sheets. If you had a chance, you would press your nose against the crumpled fabric, inhaling Thorin’s lingering scent, and then shed another round of helpless tears. All because of that one evening you spent together in your chambers, kissing and embracing. Damn him.

That one evening of wallowing in self-pity and drowning your sorrows in Dorwinion wine you promised yourself turns into three days. On the fourth day, Lord Dain finds you in your office sleeping on a pile of documents. You have completely forgotten about that inspection of the forges you were supposed to attend to together with him on that day. You mumble your apologies, trying to ignore the pounding headache and a wave of nausea. He sends you home, telling you to sleep it off.

On the fifth day, you come to your office completely sober and throw yourself into work. Somehow, you manage to survive the day without thinking of Thorin more often than twice every hour. Since then, every day looks the same: work, work, more work, and staying at the office until late evening, until you are numb with tiredness. This way you fall asleep before your head hits the pillow, even though your dreams do not bring you any relief. You don’t really care about it, because at the end of the third week you manage to work out a fragile truce between your heart and your mind (hey, you’re a great negotiator, after all!). The deal is simple: you don’t think and don’t speak about Thorin, making an effort to bury all the memories of him in the deepest corners of your brain. In return, the constant dull pain in your chest is becoming more and more tolerable every day. And then that bloody letter comes and turns everything upside down.

* * *

Three weeks after Thorin Oakenshield’s visit to the Iron Hills

You are staring at a piece of thick parchment emblazoned with golden letters, the Royal Seal of the King of Erebor proudly gracing its bottom part.

Your eyes glide over all the mandatory titles and lengthy niceties only to focus on a single sentence:

It is with great honor that we invite Lady Ragna, daughter of Eldi, to the annual Durin’s Day Feast in Erebor.

The letter is signed in black ink, and you recognize the handwriting:

Thorin, son of Thráin, son of Thrór, King Under the Mountain

The parchment is shaking. No, your hand is shaking. And your heart is beating fast, too fast. Ragna, calm yourself down! It’s just a stupid letter! You take a deep breath. Then you fill your goblet with water (you can’t even look at the Dorwinion wine any longer, not since… nevermind!) and drink it in one gulp. You read the invitation again, but the blasted letters don’t want to disappear nor form another name. It is clearly addressed to “Ragna”. You.

Thorin Oakenshield, the king of all the Dwarves of Middle-Earth, the dwarf who captured your heart and then tore it apart, wants you to attend his famous Durin’s Day Feast.

Shit.

* * *

The Masterlist Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 ...

Please let me know how you liked this chapter! 🌟🌟🌟Oh, and I have a small announcement to make! 🌟🌟🌟 This fanfic grew yet again (surprise), a bit more (surprise) than I thought it would (surprise). So next week you are going to get a new surprise chapter - showing what happens with Thorin after he returns to Erebor and before he sends that letter to Ragna.

Read it? Like it? Reblog it! Taglist: @fizzyxcustard @shrimpsthings @dark-angel-is-back @sherala007 @amelia307 @jotink78 @anyaspidergirl-blog @tschrist1 @rachel1959 @saltwater-in-the-afternoon @xmly-xo @justfollowtheroad @kirenia15 @linasofia @bitter-sweet-farmgirl

[deeversuswords]

‧˚₊ Whipped

pairing: bakugou katsuki/f!reader summary: Katsuki comes home to a disaster. In the middle of it is none other than you. contains: established relationship (more like married), domestic mishaps, fluff • ao3 link a/n: based on a real story... enjoy! 🧡

Katsuki swore his soul packed and left his body.

His kitchen. His kitchen, which he had renovated a month ago, was in shambles. It was like a damn hurricane swept through, ravaging everything in its path. Dirty dishes and balled up paper towels everywhere he looked. Smudges of yellow on the counters, on the walls, on the floor, and probably on the ceiling too, but he didn’t dare checking. His blood pressure was already up and running in his temples.

Smudges that sparkled in the blinding light as if they were something other than…what even were they from?

He inhaled deeply, nose twitching at the strong smell of egg, before finally acknowledging the kneeling person, scrubbing the hell out of the floor—you.

“What the fuck happened to my kitchen?” he gritted in your direction.

You shot him a glare. “Shouldn’t you ask what the fuck happened to me?”

“You look fine, but my kitchen…” He pinched the space between his brows. “Did someone break in, or some shit?”

“Yeah. The stupid hand blender you bought,” you snapped. “It’s a trap. I wanted an omelet, Katsuki. An omelet! But I was feeling lazy and wanted to skip the beating the eggs by hand, so I thought ‘Hey, let’s try this tool my wonderful husband just bought.’” The back of your hand smacked your forehead as you groaned, frustrated. “The eggs flew when I tried whisking them. On the lowest fucking speed!”

He blinked. This couldn’t be real. “You got your ass kicked by eggs? Damn.”

“Are you mocking me right now?”

Not a chance in hell could he stop himself from choking on a laugh. The images his mind worked so hard to visualize were next-level comedy. His pretty wife, all excited for a quick meal, taken out by a slimy blob of protein and whatever the hell was in the yolk.

“Not funny, you jerk!” You hurled the dirty rag at his head, and he dodged to the side, wincing in absolute disgust when it hit somewhere behind with a wet splotch. Hiring a cleaning crew it was. Fuck’s sake.

He tsked, crossing the distance in two long strides and crouching in front of you. A grin broke on his face as he grabbed your face with one hand and squished your cheeks between his gloved fingers. “Wanna watch how it’s done?”

“Want to befriend the couch tonight? Maybe snuggle up to that blender from hell?” you shot back, ending it with that sweet, sweet smile that only fueled him into teasing you further. You were too fucking adorable.

In all honesty, he couldn’t care less about the mess. You could set the whole house on fire, and he’d still feel this maddening warmth spreading outward from the center of his chest. “And have my pretty girl miss me in bed? Not a chance.”

You scoffed. “I won’t—”

He pulled you into a kiss, shutting down your lie. Sure you weren’t going to miss him. As if he didn’t know your antics. Half an hour without him in the bed and you’d stomp your way out of the bedroom and sneak into his arms.

He kissed you slow, with every single drop of love his soul had. A silent apology for briefly focusing on what didn’t matter. But only for a few moments, because mere moments were all Katsuki could manage before his greediness took over.

Too hot, and too fast, he burned. From the inside out.

And you weren’t helping his case. Ravenous little thing, hungry for his taste, for his touch. Yanking him to the floor with you, in the mess you created, eager to make another.

[ch3rish-ning]

•엔하이픈──── CHOSEN FATE, TRUE LOVE

SYNOPSIS / When a mere prince falls in love with a simple girl, he

must choose between a life that’s been destined for him or a life of passion.

SPOTIFY/ (wc. 1.8k) enha Sunoo x fem ! reader , Romance─── .✦

Genre / Headcannons/ romance, Strangers to lovers,/ angst

• this is my first time publishing a work of mine, it’s a bit rushed!! But I would love to do more writing!’ (^q^)

REBLOGS + FEEDBACK appreciated ♡

“To be led by your heart is a foolish game, but to lead with your intuition is the way through life.” The last line of the oldest novel reads. As I slowly begin to shut the book with a drawn-out sigh, I rub my temples and begin muttering under my breath barely audible , There is no room for me to entertain such thought, so I must live with half a heart. Adjusting my crown and forcing a smile, I leave my chambers immediately, greeted by known servants.

“Good afternoon, your Highness. The weather is delightful today. I hope you enjoy your stroll in the gardens.” I acknowledge their presence with a gentle smile, unlike my father, who rarely speaks or smiles, consumed by his duties. As I wander the hall, I reflect on the distinction that separates me from the common people: “Prince.” A title placed upon me since birth, but “king” evokes a far more sinister feeling . A burden that I fear I cannot bear alone. I observe my father, and the pain he carries after Mother’s passing. He has never been the same. His affection has grown cold and waning as the days pass. I cannot fathom a life such as his.

………….

I shake the thought, making my way outside taking in the many acres of land, feeling the sun kiss my skin like never before. I wander through gardens noted that they’ve been tended to since the last time I came out. Flowers of many colors bloomed, and grass taller than the tree stumps swayed by the wind. But my eyes gaze upon something far more beautiful than the gardens.

A woman, whose skin is far more kissed than my own. Her beautiful figure sat in the grass, and her side profile displayed for all to see. Beauty that can cure even the most loneliest man in the world. I walked up carefully, not wanting to startle her, but she seemed to notice me before I could even approach. “Goodness, what can a girl do to get a bit of peace around here???” My eyes widened in surprise. I beg your— and an instant cutoff before I could finish. “ I mean, seriously, it’s bad enough that Mother nags at me all day and night, but to be interrupted in my time of relaxation is infuriating.”

………….

I furrow my brows in confusion, thinking to myself, Is she unaware of who I am? Certainly, she can’t be. I shake my head. My apologies, it wasn’t my intention to bother you, but I couldn’t help but wonder why you sit here alone. I slowly sit myself beside her getting a better look at her features. Breathtaking is all I can think, causing my heart to skip a beat. Her once annoyed voice now filled with calmness begins to speak, “If you must know, that castle is stuffy. Working all day to service some mean king and his bratty son is no fun, so I come here to think”. Bratty?? Me?? I wonder if this is so.

Have you actually met the prince yet? I mean the way you paint him seems a little harsh. I wince replaying her words. Huffing, she speaks once more, “Not exactly…but if he is anything like his father, then I’m sure he has to be absolutely terrible.” Laughter for the first time in a while erupts from my chest. Terrible?! don’t you have a way with words. How can you judge something based on the outside when you have yet to see the inside, not to mention you’ve never actually met the prince? Silence fills the air.

“Well….I suppose you’re right…but— shit! I forgot Mother wanted me to return in an hour.” Brushing off her dress, she hurries, leaving no room for hesitation before I could even speak. I fall back in the grass with laughter and confusion. What an odd girl… I think to myself, and yet little did I know she would be the ruler of my heart and my downfall.

……..

Preparing for tonight’s ball, I adjust my garments and look in the mirror. Dare I say I cut up pretty nice. Many women try to gain my attention with flattery, but flattery is not what I seek. Truly, I don’t even know what my heart seeks. Making last-minute adjustments, I head down to the ballroom, all awaiting my entrance.

The royal announcer bows slightly and begins to speak, “Your Highness, the Prince has arrived.” All bow to me as I walk with my head held high and a confident stride. I make my way towards the feast in need of a drink to calm my nerves. That’s when I notice her across the room dressed in something more lavish than her cotton dress from earlier. Her face is almost frightened when she notices my approach, as if I was some sort of hideous beast. “Your Highness, forgive me…truly the words I said earlier meant nothing….if I had known, I wouldn’t have…” trailing off, she adverts her gaze from my own.

A small grin forms on my face. Sunoo….call me Sunoo, highness coming from you sounds so foreign, and anyway, you were casual when you weren’t aware of who I was, so allow it to remain that way. Would you care to chat for a bit ? I’m expected to waltz my way around this room and somehow find “the one,” but something in me would rather sit here and talk…with you. She looks at me somewhat surprised. “Well, I suppose I can’t refuse a prince that could be treasonous, and I rather like my head very much.” Yet again laughter falls from within me as if it were the most natural thing to happen to me.

………

“You don’t believe in love?” She asks, as we’re far into our conversation, uncaring about those who talk and waltz around us. I wouldn’t know the feeling…I have an idea of it, but I have yet to experience it…. I shake my head. That’s besides the point. My duty isn’t to fall in love; my duty is to rule once my father is gone and produce heirs. “Oh, how I feel for you…love is everlasting; ruling is just for a time until you fade out and die.” Her words wound me ever so slightly, but I don’t allow it to show as I begin to speak. If you would excuse me, this has been a lovely chat, but I’m afraid I have to retire to my chambers now that this ball has come to an end. Frowning disappointedly, she follows me down the hall as I continue walking without turning around. “Have I somehow offended you? Truly, that wasn’t my intention. I only spoke from the heart, but it seems I’ve mistepped.”

Avoidance is all I’ve ever known. Reaching my chambers, I close the doors, leaving no more room for her to speak, but her voice echoes from outside: “Just as cold as your father, I see…isolate yourself then, I will no longer be a bother.” And with that, her steps fade away, and my heart weighs with heaviness, heaviness that I chose to ignore.

………

Weeks later:

Tension follows us through the halls as we cross paths occasionally. Too ashamed to say anything, I decide to write her in hopes of growing some sort of friendship. I refuse to be anything like my father, especially in another’s eyes.

“ dear ____ ,

Forgive me…I don’t like how things left off. I’m not used to talking about these things, let alone writing notes.I’d hate to push a new companion away when I rarely have any now. As embarrassing as it is to say,it’s true. If you’ll accept, meet me in the gardens.

~ 𝓢

…………

I wait in the gardens, aware that she’s received my letter, given the fact I had my servant deliver it. The stars scatter amongst the sky, and I notice a figure in the distance. “I was feeling nice and decided to join you… not because of your letter or anything,” she says, hiding a smile as she sits beside me. The tension that was once there no longer lived as I let out a breathy laugh. Either way, I’m glad you came. I hadn’t realized how much her presence affected me— everything from her laughter to her stupid jokes to her silence and her beauty.

“You know…I wasn’t really mad all this time…I thought it was better to keep our distance. I mean, you’re the prince, and I hardly think you should be seen with me. We’ve both been distracted, and it’ll only make a mess out of things…” she speaks as she hugs her legs to her chest. Tilting my head slightly in confusion, I look her in the eyes. Is it so wrong to enjoy a friend’s company? But we both know deep down “friend” isn’t the word in our hearts.

Title doesn’t have to rule us, so why not allow ourselves to live and move freely…what you said about love being everlasting but not title or duty makes me want to be bold. “So then allow yourself to be bold.” Her eyes search mine, time seems to slow as everything moves fast and I take the initiative to lean in and kiss her— the sweetest kiss that could ignite fire in anyone’s soul. Allowing her lips to melt into mine as the moonlight falls on our faces as nothing else seems to matter.

At that moment I knew my heart was with her, as all my worries and fears of loving and being loved began to melt away. Maybe things can be different. Maybe I can rule. Just I’ve always been meant to, but also love. Maybe I don’t have to be my father but be my own man.

Next day:

As I wake from my slumber, reminiscing the way her lips felt against mine, a small smile plays across my face. Hearing a small knock on my chamber door, I’m met with a letter from one of my servants. Breaking the seal, I slowly begin to read.

“To your highness, it is with my greatest pleasure to inform you that you are now engaged to the daughter of the Knox family, Lady Kenna Knox. The Royal Union is to take place within the next coming months, and a meet is to be arranged for you both to get to know each other.”

As I feel myself slowly fade out, the room begins to spin. Last night’s memories no longer take place in my mind, but new worries arise. I feared a day like this would come but never thought it would happen. Father didn’t even think to give me a heads up. Is there any way I can possibly love freely and be my own man, or must I simply accept my fate and be bound to a life of duty..

© CH3RISH-NING , 2025

[scoupsakakitty]

Could you write a seungkwan x idol reader maybe angst but fluff in the end hehehe

The Letter You Never Sent | idol!Seungkwan x Reader | angst, fluff

It had been a long day for Seungkwan, and as usual, his mind was buzzing with new lyrics he wanted to jot down. While Seventeens schedule had kept him busy, the creative process never stopped. He always carried around a notebook, but that day, his mind had wandered off, and he’d forgotten it at the dorm. It wasn’t like he hadn’t planned to stop by Y/N’s place; it was just another reason to visit, another small moment they’d spend together, even if it was just a few hours.

Y/N wasn’t home when he arrived, as she often wasn’t these days. He was used to letting himself in, having known the code to her apartment door for years. It was their routine—a casual thing, like family. He liked the quiet comfort of her apartment; it had always felt like his second home.

With a quick glance around her living room, Seungkwan spotted a pad of paper on the coffee table. Perfect. He grabbed it, along with a pen, and began scribbling down the lyrics that had been swirling in his mind. His pen moved furiously across the page as the ideas began to solidify. He was so absorbed in his thoughts that he didn’t notice the piece of paper that had fallen out from underneath the notebook—a letter, creased and worn, as if it had been kept hidden for years.

Curious, Seungkwan set the pen down and reached for the letter. It wasn’t like him to go snooping through Y/N’s things, but something about the way the letter was half-hiding under her notebook caught his eye. As he unfolded it, he recognized her handwriting instantly. His heart skipped when he read the first few words:

“Seungkwan, I don’t know how to say this…”

The message was brief but heartfelt, and Seungkwan immediately felt a pang in his chest. But as he continued reading, the words sent a shockwave of confusion and anger through him. Y/N had written this letter to him years ago—back when he was a new debutant, struggling to find his place in the world. And yet, he had never known about it. Not until now.

The Letter

Seungkwan,

I don’t know how to say this. There’s so much I want to tell you, but I don’t even know where to begin. I guess I’ll just say it: I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember. I don’t know when it started exactly, but I know it’s been years. Even before your debut, even when we were just friends, I felt it — the way my heart would race when you smiled, the way my chest would tighten when you laughed. It’s always been there.

But I’ve had to keep it hidden. Not because I wanted to, but because I had to. Your management told me it was too dangerous for you. They said it would ruin your career, your reputation. They told me that if anyone found out, it could destroy everything you’ve worked so hard for. They made me believe that if I told you how I felt, I’d be the reason you wouldn’t succeed. I couldn’t bear that. I couldn’t risk losing you—not just as my best friend, but as someone who meant so much more to me than words can express.

So, I’ve been pretending. Pretending that we’re just friends. Pretending that I’m okay with watching you grow and shine, knowing deep down that I’ll never be the one standing next to you on that stage. I’ve watched you achieve your dreams, and I’ve been so proud, but at the same time, I’ve been holding my breath, keeping my distance. I can’t let my feelings get in the way of your future. I won’t.

But it’s getting harder, Seungkwan. Every time I see you, every time I hear your voice, every time you smile at me, it breaks me just a little more. I keep telling myself that this is for the best—that I’m doing it for you—but I’m not sure how much longer I can keep this up. It hurts. It hurts so much to hide this from you, to pretend I don’t care when everything inside of me screams that I do.

I just wanted you to know. Even if I can’t say it to you in person, even if I can’t hold your hand, I want you to know that I love you. I always have. And I always will.

Please don’t hate me for this.

—Y/N

This section of the letter conveys the deep emotional struggle Y/N went through, hiding her feelings because of the pressure from HYBE. It adds a layer of guilt, love, and sacrifice, giving Seungkwan a stronger reason to be upset with both Y/N and himself.

Seungkwan’s mind raced as he read the words over and over again. The rawness of the confession hit him like a wave, and anger began to bubble up from somewhere deep within him. How could she have hidden this from him? How could she have kept this secret for so long?

He wasn’t sure how long he sat there, reading the letter, feeling his emotions shift from shock to disbelief, to something darker—hurt, betrayal.

By the time Y/N returned, the letter had already been set back down on the coffee table, neatly folded again. Seungkwan could barely breathe, his thoughts too loud in his head. He needed answers.

The door clicked shut, and he heard Y/N’s voice calling his name, familiar and comforting. But for the first time in a long time, it felt like it was coming from a distance. He stood up from the couch, walking toward the door to greet her.

“Seungkwan?” Y/N stopped short when she saw the look on his face, and suddenly, everything felt heavy.

“Where have you been?” he asked, his tone sharp and colder than he had intended. He wasn’t sure why he was so angry, but the letter had made everything so much harder. Why hadn’t she told him? Why hadn’t she trusted him enough to share something so important?

Y/N froze, clearly sensing the shift in his mood. “I—I was out with a friend. Why? What’s wrong?” she asked, her voice filled with concern.

Seungkwan didn’t answer right away. He glanced over at the coffee table, where the letter was waiting. Then, without thinking, he grabbed it and held it up in front of her, his gaze burning with frustration.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he demanded, his voice tight with anger. “Why keep this from me for so long? You wrote this… years ago, and you never said a word to me.”

Y/N’s eyes widened, her face paling as she took in the sight of the letter. “Seungkwan, I—”

“No, don’t say anything yet,” Seungkwan cut her off, his emotions flooding out. “You hid this from me. You hid your feelings from me. You made me believe we were just friends, when all this time, you felt something for me. How could you keep this from me?”

Y/N opened her mouth to say something, but the words stuck in her throat. Seungkwan could see the guilt and regret written across her face, and it only made his anger grow stronger.

He took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm inside him, but it wasn’t easy. “I’ve worked so hard for my career,” he said, his voice thick with frustration. “I’ve sacrificed so much to get to where I am more than I ever wanted. And I didn’t even realize it.”

Y/N flinched at his words. “Seungkwan, that’s not what I wanted. I never wanted to ruin your career. I never wanted to be a distraction. I did it because I care about you. Because I wanted to protect you—because I didn’t want my feelings to get in the way of everything you worked so hard for.”

Her words cut through him, leaving him feeling both hurt and conflicted. “So you just thought I wouldn’t care? That I wouldn’t notice how much you were hiding from me? You don’t think I could’ve handled it? That I wouldn’t have wanted to be with you, too?”

Y/N took a step closer, her voice trembling. “You don’t understand, Seungkwan. I had to choose. Your dreams, your career… they meant more to me than my own feelings. I couldn’t risk hurting you, ruining everything you’ve worked for. I thought if I kept my distance, everything would be okay.”

Seungkwan’s anger melted into frustration. He knew how much she cared for him, how much she always wanted the best for him, but this—this silence—had been a wall between them, and it had hurt him more than she probably realized.

“You should’ve told me. I could have handled it,” he said quietly. “I could have chosen to be with you, to figure this out together. But you didn’t give me that chance. You just let me walk around, clueless.”

Y/N’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears. “I’m sorry. I was scared… I was scared of losing you.”

The silence between them stretched, each of them holding on to emotions too strong to ignore. Finally, Seungkwan dropped his gaze, taking a deep breath. His heart ached as he realized how deeply this had hurt both of them. She had tried to protect him, to shield him from her feelings, but in doing so, she had unknowingly created distance that neither of them needed.

He reached out, pulling her into a tight hug. Y/N hesitated for a moment before letting her arms wrap around him as well.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I should have told you. I was just trying to protect you.”

Seungkwan nodded, resting his chin on her shoulder. “I understand. I do. But don’t you ever think that you’re a burden to me. I would have chosen you. I would have always chosen you.”

Y/N pulled back just enough to look him in the eyes, her tears finally falling freely. “Really?”

Seungkwan smiled softly, brushing the tears from her cheeks. “Yeah. Really. We can figure this out, Y/N. Together.”

She smiled back, and for the first time in what felt like forever, the weight of the world seemed to lift from both their shoulders. The space between them was finally gone.

And as Seungkwan leaned in, kissing her gently, all the uncertainty, all the hidden feelings, faded away. They were finally being honest with each other. Finally ready to let their feelings lead them forward.

[milessunflowers]

pls pls pls wag!isack or wag!arthur

fuck it we ball why not both

wag!isack hadjar x f1 driver!male!reader

wag!arthur leclerc x f1 driver!male!reader

synopsis: headcannons on how i think arthur and isack would be as wags

author's note: WAG!ISACK AND ARTHUR!!! WAG!ISACK AND ARTHUR!!! GUYS IDL IF YOU CAN TELL BUT I WAS SO EXCITED FOR THIS BECAUSE THEY ARE JUST AALBFWKKSLSD

ISACK HADJAR!

he doesn't go to many races since he is more focused on his writing degree

but he is always live streaming the races from his devices

and totally not live tweeting it

he gets heated if you get a penalty or crashed into

will literally call his friends and just blow off steam in french

and his friends are just like "uh, yeah, totally dude"

he always texts you right after the race and makes sure you're okay if you crashed

and if you win/score points, he's throwing parties to celebrate over facetime

not a man of very encouraging words, but he is very sweet with the words he does gives

he is more of a man of action i feel

definitely tells you he is proud of you but shows it a lot more

wither way, you adore it

plus a lot of his writings involve you

youre his muse

you literally skip a race to go to his graduation

you surprised him there with a set of new pens, notebooks, and even a new laptop

hes just so happy to see you that he practically drops his degree/diploma to hug you

when isack does start going to more races, the fans are absolutely delighted

they ask for his autograph since you only talk about how amazing he is and how he's going to be a bestselling author one day

and he's super friendly to the fans, especially since he stops you so they can get your autograph too

the fans love him more than you now

which to you is the best thing ever

because like who wouldn't love your amazing boyfriend?

ARTHUR LECLERC!

he goes to every single one of your races

always in the garage/hospitality

everyone knows him and sre extremely friendly with him

they adore him honestly

and he's like such a good energy to keep in the garage since he's just so happy

plus he's learning to become either an engineer or a teacher

i couldn't choose because honestly both work for him

plus he would just be the cutest, most sweet teacher out there, am i right?

anyways

so he is also getting hands on experience in the garage (between either helping with the car or babysitting the grid's kids)

and he always has a blast, especially since you are an amazing racer

but if you happen to dnf or have a really bad crash, his entire body just tenses and his face is just stuck in a fearful expression

when you are cleared by medical, he is clinging to you and not saying anything

hes just holding on tight to you for the longest time before he tells you to stop giving him heartattacks at age 24

that makes you smile and forget about the rest of the race

he is also really sweet with the fans and makes sure you spend some time with them (even if you already do) because they support you

and he trades bracelets with them, i feel, because he is just obsessed with them

he has a whole collection in a jar in the entry way to your flat

you even add some in there for him

once more, your fans start to like arthur more than you

so you turn it into a competition (that you ultimately lose)

its all fun and games and makes you both happy

TAGS! (if you want to be added lmk!)

@op-81-lvr-reblogs, @koalapastries, @justaf1girl, @ghostking4m, @spoonfulofmilo, @seonghwaexile, @alex-wotton, @raizelchrysanderoctavius