#but uh…not great to ski in it

[slothquisitor]

I’ve got almost 8k written of the eldritch horror au but like…I’ve got soooooo many essays to grade this weekend, and I just want to keep working on it.

Real life is just not cooperating with the hobbies right now.

[autumnapricot]

Lestappies fed through Brazil!!!! How do you feel about this whole weekend? It was such a rollercoaster oh my god I hope you’re feeling better!

phew, the weekend was an emotional rollercoaster, as max said himself! i‘m happy i did end up tuning in for the race though!! also—lestappen content everywhere, we really were fed so good 😋

also, you see, lestappen lestappening and my faves doing well heals. flu and cold gone, seasonal depression gone, the sun is shining, the air is crisp, the colorful leaves are rustling their dance down the concrete streets—life is good.🥰🧚‍♂️

thank you for asking🤍

[marmotsomsierost]

I just made it about 50 seconds in this song before going 'wait what' so do me a favor, click the link and don't look at the description.

It's not a rickroll, that's too easy.

[vividxpages]

✩˚౨ৎ˚✩‧The Great War PART 1 ✩₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧

PART 2 + PART 3

pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!Reader

words: 1700

summary: Jace and you are lovers, but stand on opposite sides of the war, not allowed to see each other anymore. But love always finds a way. (inspired by “The Great War” by Taylor Swift)

warnings: angst, reader is Alicents's daughter, the Greens being a bad family, hurt/comfort!, kissing

a/n: help, I'm obsessed with this boy and every song starts to sound like a possible fic idea for him!!!

𓆩♡𓆪

All that bloodshed, crimson clover Uh-huh, sweet dream was over My hand was the one you reached for All throughout the Great War

Sometimes, you could only breathe above the clouds.

Up here on your dragon’s back, the trouble you left behind underneath you did not matter anymore. You thought of the castle that slowly poisoned you from the inside, the dark nights where you thought you were completely alone in the world with no comfort in reach but the memories you carried with yourself.

Once there had been laughter at the dinner table, the halls filled with the family you had not seen in months. Now, you only saw your brothers and your mother together in one room during council. You shuddered at the memory of today’s meeting, snuggling deeper into the saddle and closer to the dragon who kept you safe in the sky.

(“Maybe we should send our dear sister.” Your brother Aegon had proposed at some frustrating point of an endless council, taking a deep swig from the wine glass in front of him.

You had simply stared at him, silent. No one was really listening to you anyway and you were past the point of turning to your mother pleadingly. She was just as silent, always frowning, always doing nothing. “What do you mean, Aegon?”

“We can weaken them from the inside.” He had spoken to the others then, who at least looked so confused as you had felt. “Send them my little precious sister who a certain bastard son always had a weak spot for. I don’t see the problem if you kill him while you’re fuck-“

Your chair had screeched over the floor and fell down with a loud thud on the stone floor. You had clenched your hands into fists as you stood, fury in your eyes.

“Aegon, stop with such nonsense.” Alicent had said quietly, but it wasn’t enough. It was never enough. You fled.)

You welcomed the tears on your cheeks like an old friend, letting them cool your skin as you stirred your dragon through the sky, opting to just turn right and never come back to Westeros.

But oh, how your heart still clung to them.

The family up north in the realm, the family you had lost forever in the middle of his conflict.

Suddenly, you felt your dragon tense and directed your attention to the west, where a shape of a big shadow flickered through the clouds. Your mind began to race with what you’d do if Aemond had followed you, always being damned to bring you back when you had strayed too far away from Kings Landing.

But this shadow was not big enough to be Vhagar.

And those dark curls did not belong to your brother.

You gasped as your dragon let out a recognizing screech, lunging forwards through the clouds until you and the other rider could almost touch at how close your beasts were.

Time seemed to slow down as they flew past each other, teasingly snapping at each other’s necks with the joy of being reunited, but there was no doubt. As you raced through the skies, you looked into your Jace’s eyes.

You let out a broken gasp and quickly looked over your shoulder, but he and Vermax were already out of reach, descending down beneath the clouds. And suddenly, you knew where he was going. You spurned your dragon on, the wind cutting into your skin as you raced after them, faster and faster until you let your dragon spread its wings for a quick landing by the beach Jacaerys had chosen.

Only the silver moonlight illuminated the shore by the cliffs, void of any other soul who could witness the forbidden reunion between the two of you. If you had been in company, Jacaerys would’ve already been dead or held captive.

But you were alone, for the first time in months.

You slid down your dragon’s back, nearly blind by the need to reach him, to throw yourself into his arms like you had dreamed so often.

When you had seen each other for the last time, there had not been a war yet.

And Luke had been still alive.

(You had cried for hours when Aemond had returned, blood still drying on Vhagar’s massive teeth. You had begged your mother to write a letter, just a simple letter to Jace, but everything at court had still been too fragile to do anything but be in shock over what had happened up there. It had nearly driven you mad, to know that somewhere Jace was suffering the loss of his little brother and there was nothing you could do to comfort him.)

Now, he was right there in front of you, leaving Vermax behind him and running towards you on the wet sand by the water. You broke out into a sprint as well, a disbelieving laugh that was anything but amused leaving your tight throat as his features became more and more clear to you.

You crashed together like two waves.

The embrace was nearly violent as his arms slung themselves around you, lifting you up and pressing you into him. There was no strength in your bones anymore and if Jace wouldn’t have held you so tightly, you would’ve crashed onto the ground, shattering into a million pieces.

Only Jace was holding you together right now.

He was everything you had been missing in those terrible weeks. He smelled like sea and wind and smoke and your hands shook as you combed through his wet curls, your tear-streaked face securely hidden in his neck.

You never wanted to let go of him and it seemed like the feeling was mutual.

“Gods- my love…” He mumbled into your ear and you let out a choked sob as you held each other. It was like he could not decide where he wanted to touch you first. His hands drifted over you restlessly, up and down your spine, holding onto you as if you could disappear again at any moment.

“How did you find me?” You asked breathlessly, your bottom lip still trembling dangerously as you caressed his cheeks, needing to refamiliarize yourself with the feel of his skin on yours.

He swallowed thickly, unshed tears glistening in his beautiful years. “I remembered the route you liked to take when you needed to stop thinking. And it’s cloudy today. No one saw me coming. I’ve been waiting for a cloudy night like this for weeks-“

His voice broke and you pulled him closer again, shudders of pain and longing and relief to be with him going through you in an endless loop. How much had changed since the last time you had seen eye to eye: Your father had always said you’d make a good match back then and now Jace had one brother less and you were a captive in your own home.

“I missed you so much.” You whispered, resting your head on his shoulder as you both looked out on the ocean. “I- oh Jace, I tried to write, I wanted to send you a letter, but- I wasn’t allowed. I couldn’t help you and-“

“It’s okay.” He said, but it sounded lifeless, void. “It’s not your fault. I wished I could’ve been there for you too. I know how much you loved Luke.”

Gods, you wanted to cry and never stop again. Even now, Jace was trying to be strong for you, as he had always been.

“I’m so sorry.”

“I love you.” He told you and cupped your cheek, looking deeply and longingly into your eyes. “I missed you every second we’ve been apart. Have you been treated well? Have Aegon and Aemond-“

“I love you too. I want to come with you.” You interrupted him fiery and he shuddered at the insane idea of it, the consequences unimaginable and likely deadly for one of you. “Please, please, let me come with you, I can’t stay a single day there, my mother is not the same anymore and- my brothers have been horrible with the things they want to do to Rhaenyra and you.”

He shushed you gently, drawing his arms tighter around you and swaying you back and forth. “I’ll find a way. I’m not letting you stay there alone for much longer, my love. It makes me sick to think about you being alone in Kings Landing, believe me, but…mother says it’s not safe, not yet-“

“I won’t cause your family any trouble, I promise-“

“It’s not us we’re fearing for.” He smiled sadly at you. “It’s you. I won’t summon your brother’s anger on you. I’d rather take it on myself, but- we need to be a little more patient, okay?”

You could see how much effort those words cost him and you had no doubt if it was his choice to make, he’d take you with him to Dragonstone and never look back. You watched his throat bump with tension, his jaw set, his lips pressed together tightly.

A sudden small smile danced over your face. “So you only came to me tonight because you wanted to see me?”

His eyes were dark with longing, with wanton he could not give in to, not tonight. “My love...I needed to see you.” His thumb lovingly brushed over your cheek, the pad of it briefly touching your lips.

There was so much you wanted to say, so many things you needed to tell him and hear from him, but in this short moment you were only a girl and he was a boy. Your boy.

 He met you right in the middle, delicately holding your face between his hands as your lips met, desperately kissing you as his taste exploded in your mouth once again. He kissed you drunk, enveloping all your senses until all you felt was him. His lips were dry and salty from the long flight over the clouds and along the coast, your runny noses sliding against each other, but it was perfect.

Your heart was mended with every little sigh into your mouth, his long lashes brushing over your cheeks, your hands tangling in his hair…

You thought that maybe, in another lifetime, the two of you could’ve been able to stop the war.

Another part of you knew that you always had been damned, cursed.

You blinked into the starless grey sky above you as Jace began to ravish your neck with wet kisses and you thought of the old saying passed on from generation to generation.

Every time a Targaryen is born, the gods flip a coin.

On which side would yours land if you ever lost him?

On which would his land when it finally sank in that he could never have you?

[naomi-nana]

✎ᝰ. in the name of you .

in a world where everyone forgot their own religion, it's not wrong for luka to look at your ethereal self and immediately mistake you for a divine being, no?

featuring : luka

cw : female reader, implied stalking(for just a little), luka is obsessed with reader, luka isn't obsessed with hyuna in here for the sake of the story lol🙇‍♀️

a/n : i made a till one, and now i'll make a luka one! i was trying to make it seems as if luka is obsessed with reader, but i was having a hard time showing it, and ended up making it seems like luka had become a better person after meeting reader lmfaoo😭🙏

from the moment humans were taken away forcefully by those disgusting aliens—they all had forgotten about their creators. the one who gave them life, the one who gave them the will to continue living. each day felt like a stab to the heart, it feels as if someone had taken your lungs out of your body, before putting it back inside again.

it feels empty, like a void.

while all the kids run around anakt garden happily, although not genuinely, all luka could do was lean on one of the trees, while holding his knees close to his chest. what can he do? what does people expect him to do? he is a weak child, a child born with diseases, a child unable to live without support from others, including the tree he is currently leaning on. without anything to lean on, to hold on to, what was he supposed to do, weak and dependent as he was?

nothing. he could only weep himself to sleep every day, and it changes nothing. he has heard from the other kids that there is a powerful divine being that could help you in times of distress, how it's called god, how you're supposed to believe in it for it to help you, and he did. luka believed in god for a day, but nothing had changed. his everyday life had remained the same.

like waking up early, even though he doesn't know what time it is because of all the fake painted skies the aliens put in the garden, go eat breakfast with the other kids, with no one else sitting besides—"hey, is this seat occupied?" in the midst of the suffocating silence, a cheerful, almost unreal voice had reached his ears. he had first thought that it was just his imagination, his desperate feelings of wanting to be accompanied by someone. but it wasn't, as the voice echoed in his ears once again.

"uh, hello...? did i catch you on a bad day? i'm so sorry, i'll find another seat then." after what felt like a minute, he finally looked up at the person talking to him, only to notice that they're gone. he clenched his fist in regret. he should've looked up earlier, he should've answered whoever that was, but he didn't. such a shame, he thought to himself.

after half an hour, luka finished his breakfast and was getting ready to leave, before being stopped by someone whose voice was so familiar to him, it almost feels as if he is dreaming. "hey, um... i'm really, really sorry for bothering you earlier. as an apology, i got some bread for you!" that cheerful voice had struck something inside him, his eyes grew wide slightly, and his hand trembles at the sight of you. if he were to believe in the divine, he would immediately get down on his knees and pray for you, an angel.

your soft gaze, your skin that looks almost as delicate and fragile as a glass, and your small fingers offering him the bread you got for him. it took him almost a minute to react, and all that came out of his mouth is just a small gasp, so small that even you can't hear it. "don't tell anyone about this though, but i stole it from someone's unfinished breakfast! so take it, please?" you shoved the bread to his face, which made him raise his eyebrows. but he took it anyway.

he examines the bread carefully, to which you took great offense. "i won't poison you, so there's no need to look at it so intensely!" you pout at him. if you squint your eyes really hard, you can notice the faintest hint of smile on his face, and probably the first time he has ever smile so genuinely.

his everyday routine had consisted of the same, basic thing. but, now that you talked to him, it changed his life forever. it changed his views of the world, of everyone. some kids may have believed in the divine from the moment they were born, but luka just believed in the divine the moment she graced himself with her kindness.

from then on, whenever luka woke up and entered the garden, the first thing—or person he looks for, is you. whenever he went to the cafeteria, the first person he approached is you, and when luka went to his first performance on stage, the first person he looks for in the audience is you, holding a cream-colored lightstick.

whenever luka goes anywhere, the first person he looks for, thought of, and wishes to see first... is you.

his god, his universe.

and if he happens to notice some... imbecile, or other people trying to approach you, he won't hesitate to show them that no one can approach his angel without consequences. no one other than him.

naomi-nana. do NOT repost, do not use,(with or without permission), do not reccommend or talk about my works outside of tumblr.

[cowboylikefaith]

with great power...

art donaldson spiderman! au x reader

summary: stanford has a masked superhero on the loose, and you're trying to crack down on his identity. little do you know, it's your boyfriend art.

warnings: cursing, injuries, reader highkey gets mugged, art is being mysterious af, reader is incredibly oblivious, sappy at the end sorry, not proofread

author's note: HI so this is actually my first time writing a fic ever... but this au idea has been absolutely rotting in my brain for the past week or so and i need to get it out. enjoy!!!!!!

╰🕸️ ₊✧ ﾟ❤️⚬𓂂➢

"dude!" you say barging into art's dorm (not realizing that your poor boyfriend was in the middle of a nap) "look at the topic the newspaper just assigned me. some shithead on campus is doing parkour in a scuba suit, people are calling him 'spiderman'."

art is pulled out of his trance-like state when he hears the name fall out of your mouth. you feel bad after realizing you woke him up, seeing him wipe his tired eyes with a pout on his lips. "hey pretty" he says with a lopsided smirk on his face "what were you talking about? some spider-idiot?" you hop into bed next to him "yeah it's nothing...sorry for waking you up, just go back to bed, 'kay?"

you don't know what's been up with art recently. he rarely returns your calls, he's always tired, and when he's awake, he's either in a rush or incredibly sluggish. you asked patrick about it and he said that the beginning of a new tennis season is wearing both of them down. seems reasonable, right?

now, it's been a few weeks since you were assigned this story, and jess (your senior editor) wants you to photograph and interview this spiderman guy, because apparently he's some kind of campus superhero (returning stolen laptops, helping drunk sorority girls avoid getting hit by cars, the usual) however you have no leads so far.

until one day, tashi tells you a story about how he saved a freshman from the tennis team from being hazed, and you decide to ask your boyfriend about it.

"you don't know anything about a kid named steven mcdonald, do you?" you ask art as you settle down to watch some gossip girl.

"that freshman who survived a hazing incident? yeah, i know of him" he replies as he pulls you into his arms and kisses your forehead.

you pull away with furrowed eyebrows "well did he...say...anything about that night?"

"uh no. no, not really" he says (a little distantly) "anyway! i seriously don't understand why serena loves dan so much, nate is obviously the better choice for her."

you roll your eyes sarcastically "wow donaldson...really smooth transition! way to change the subject there honey."

"i'm sorry.." he replies as he plays with your hair "it's just that...i don't want you getting mixed up in that kind of stuff. if you got hurt.." he sighs "i don't know what i'd do with myself"

and so you promise art that you'll stop working on the article...until jess says she'll kick you out of the stanford star if you do.

one night, as you're walking back to your dorm after dinner with tashi and patrick (third wheel much?), a man in a black ski mask suddenly approaches you and orders you to put your hands up.

"give me your fucking heels lady...and your purse!" he demands.

"oh god no" you shut your eyes and groan "please sir, these are really expensive and- and these are manolo blahniks!! my mom bought-"

before you can finish your rambling, you can hear a thud, and when open your eyes, you can see that he's been wrapped up in some web-like substance.

"don't worry, he's not dead" a figure says as he walks out from behind the criminal. you feel like you know him, you can't even see his face but something about him is just so familiar, and you can't put your finger on it. until..

oh my god

"oh my god! you're spiderman! thank you so much, seriously. that guy could've killed me" you say excitedly, forgetting about your past opinions about him.

art- i mean spiderman, chuckles and says that it's no problem, and asks if he could take you back to your dorm.

"yeah! i would love that, thank you." you reply "actually, could i take your photo? i'm doing an article about you for the stanford star." oh and art eats it UP. he's doing stupid poses and acting silly and goofy (just to hear you laugh of course).

you get back to your dorm safely, and spiderart bids you farewell. just before he leaps out your window, he pulls a red stanford cap (one that you've never noticed, and one that looks suspiciously like art's) out of his pocket.

"hey, maybe i'll see you around" he says as he puts the cap on...backwards. something that only art would do. lucky enough for him, you're too tired to notice.

"...and those are the differences between meiosis and mitosis." you're trying to study for another biology exam when all of a sudden you hear a tapping noise on your window.

at first you think it's a bird, or some frat boy trying to piss you off by throwing empty beer cans at your window, but the tapping turns into banging and you start to hear sounds of pain through the glass.

you run to the window and see a boy in a familiar red and blue suit sitting on the windowsill. this time with a huge gash in his side.

"spiderman? oh my god, get inside, what happened?" you ask while scrambling for a first aid kit. art falls onto your bed, unknowingly bleeding all over your new floral sheets. he groans and holds his side, mumbling something about...well god knows what.

art protests as you try to patch up the very open wound by his waist. "you're just like my boyfriend art," you say with a grin "he gets all fucked up during his tennis matches and doesn't let me help him out." you can hear him through the mask but you can't tell if it's a laugh or a whimper.

"jesus- how long is this going to take? i have an econ final to study for" he says with a wince. "not very long if you sit still, spiderboy" you retort "why don't you take off your mask? you must be dying with that thing on."

you feel his face, and it feels...familiar. you slowly take off the mask, and reveal art's lips, sculpted nose, blue and brown eyes, and tousled blonde hair.

suddenly you realize. you realize the reasons for the missed calls, hurried kisses, and rain-checked dates. all this time you've been thinking that it was tennis kicking his ass, when really art was kicking other people's.

"hi honey" art mumbles, same lopsided, boyish smile that you fell in love with gracing his face "i'm sorry. i should have told you." before you can say anything, he kisses you and sneaks his hands to the small of your back. you can feel him smiling into the kiss as he pulls you into his lap.

"i missed you" you say, pulling away with a pout. you card your hands through his blonde curls. "i know, i know, i'm sorry pretty girl, it's just that...i don't want you to worry about me." art replies, pushing your hair away from your face.

you flick his forehead. "you dumbass. of course i'm going to worry about you, whether you like it or not...because i like you. a lot. no matter what kind of freaky superpowers you have." art lets out a weak chuckle, then he kisses you like a man stuck in the desert for 40 days. you can feel him drawing small circles along your hips and caressing your thumb.

you pull away one last time. "now tell me spiderboy...how did you go from tennis team captain to stanford superhero?"

[hopelesswrites]

Music Boyfriend part 1

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Part 1 / 2 / 3

Summary: Eddie is an anonymous frontman of Corroded Coffin and meets his long-time pen-crush while on the run from the law.

Notes: This is HEAVILY inspired by movie Dinner in America, I was obsessed with the dynamic and felt it fit Eddie and Reader so well. general plot similarities but not a complete retelling of the movie.

Eddies POV

Sweat dripped down the nape of Eddie Munsons neck, chest raising and falling at a rapid rate, his hooded reflection an image of fierce rage as he attempted to calm down his heart and mind after the show. It was the biggest crowd they had played for. At least 100 sweaty bodies mashed together screaming his lyrics. Eddie was in a euphoric state the whole set, Corroded Coffin was finally making it in the scene, people were actually taking them seriously.

“Great show tonight dude” Gareth the bands drummer spoke as he walked past smacking his palm against the skin of Eddies exposed back.

“Owners talking about getting us back next weekend”

Eddies heartbeat was still pounding in his ears when he roughly ripped off the black ski mask from his head, damp curls sprawling out from their confinement.

Shouting could be heard from outside before the door to the small green room slammed open. “They’re looking for you man” Jeff ran in. Eddie could hear the police outside the door, their voices getting closer.

“Quick get out of here and lay low, whatever you did this time they’ll forget in a few days”

Eddie cursed before haphazardly putting his mask back on and shrugging his leather jacket on his shoulders before entering the cold night air.

The cops were looking for Eddie, and with the mask on he was no longer Eddie, he was Vandal, Van for short, but he made a run for it just to be safe.

Eddie knew back at the bar his band will be getting interrogated right now. But their story was always the same “we don’t know no Eddie; the lead singers name is Van”

He liked to keep his real identity a secret on stage. It was easier due to all the trouble he gets up to during the day and he just preferred the anonymity of it, he could be anyone once that hood came on.

Down the street now Eddie slowed to a brisk walk, pulling out his pack of cigarettes and lighting one, taking a long drag once he finally got a breath. He smiled at the irony of that, thinking of ways he could incorporate that into a lyric, connect it back to the bands rebellious non conformity message.

After a few more minutes of walking Eddie made it to the nearest service station, pulling his hood off and stuffing it in his jacket pocket before entering. He beelined straight to the confectionary section ripping off a chocolate bar and stomping down the aisle for a packet of chips. At the counter he watched the bored clerk perk up at the sight of him, adjusting her shirt to show off more cleavage.

“What can I do for you” she asked in the most flirtatious voice she could

“Uh, cheapest bottle of bourbon please” Eddie answered giving the girl a wink before she turned around to grab the bottle.

“What time do you get off?” Eddie leaned his elbows on the counter so his eyes were in line with her chest, noticing the way she pushed her chest out more and stood with her hand on her hip.

“I’m here all night, but it’s pretty dead, I can lock the door” She replied seductively. Eddie considered his options. Try to go home to his uncle who likely already received a visit from the cops, or hole up here with a pretty lady until the authorities cool off for the night.

The answer was obvious.

-

Eddie was rudely awoken by the zip of his leather jacket hitting him in his eye socket. Groaning he stretched in the plastic chair he had curled up on, flinching when he pinched a nerve in his back. Uncle Waynes couch would have been a better option.

“You have to leave now my supervisors going to be here” A voice spoke above him.

Eddie squinted open one eye to see a dishevelled version of the girl he met last night. On the floor to his right was an empty bottle of that bourbon and a plastic cup with the remnants of his last few cigarettes.

“Get me another packet of Marlboros would ya” Eddie resumed his stretch, rubbing the eye that he could already feel a small bruise forming around.

He heard movement and a small box hit him in the chest.

“Out! Now!”

Eddie scrambled to his feet shrugging on his jacket realising he still had no shirt underneath.

“Can I pinch a shirt?” Eddie asked the girl frantically cleaning up the back room they spent the night in.

“They’re next to the drink fridge, hurry” she answered, uninterested in Eddies company by now.

Eddie walked out the back entrance of the service station clad in a shirt saying, “Warning, Choking Hazard” with an arrow pointed downward, he chuckled to himself, pleased with his selection before lighting up another cigarette and making his way in town. He was starving and could use a greasy cheeseburger to soak up some of the alcohol still swirling through his system.

If he was lucky, the police had forgotten about Mr Wheelers stolen car and Mrs Norris’s once perfectly manicured lawn (he didn’t see the pot hole, he was trying not to pop Mr Wheelers tyre obviously).

Down the main strip of Hawkins Eddie kept his head down trying not to draw any attention. He was on 80% of these peoples hit list, been done dirty by Eddie one way or another. This was why he was so eager to blow up with the band and get the hell out of this shit hole. He approached the record store, interested in this week’s new releases. Him and the band had been trying to get Corroded Coffins album in store for months. Keith the asshole kept saying they weren’t selling amateur garage band shit, so Eddie deeply despised the place.

Like a magnet Eddie found his way to the metal section, browsing the albums he already knew and loved when one cover up the back caught his eye. It was Corroded Coffin, he had hand drawn that cover himself, he recognised the charcoal smudge scanned onto the left edge of every album they printed. It cost him a fortune, only two existed in vinyl format and 50 cassettes, all the copies they hand out at shows now are hand scratched mixtape style covers. This was one of those 50 official cassettes.

“Its limited edition, hence, the markup” A soft voice spoke from behind Eddie. He turned his head and scowled at the girl stood behind him. She was twiddling with a sticker that read ‘SALE’ a crooked name badge on a too big shirt with ‘Hawkins Records’ printed on the opposite side.

“Yeah, I know its limited edition, its one of 50” Eddie spat back protectively. Who was this girl telling him about his own band?

“Its one of my own copies. I bought two because I’m such a fan and wanted a backup but Keiths been pushing back their request to sell in the store, so I sacrificed my spare to put out, they deserve to be in stores, have you heard of them?” The girl rambled, seemingly forgetting her own surroundings once she had started talking.

“Of course, I’ve heard of them” Eddie grumbled putting the album back. “Better question is how have you heard of them”

Eddie turned fully now to look at the girl. She was nothing like the people who come to his shows, she radiated too much of a cautious, anxious energy. She looked uncomfortable in her own skin and ashamed of her own actions, but Eddie was no psychoanalyst, he couldn’t make those kinds of conclusions. She looked up at him but a little to the left, never making eye contact and she had a twitch in her leg that looked a little like Gareth tapping a kick drum.

“My friend Jack showed me their album, he works here Monday to Thursday, he’s really into metal”

Eddie looked her up and down as he tried to work this girl out, she was fucking weird, and that was saying something coming from him, the towns resident freak.

“Did you know the bands lead vocalist Vandal wears a mask?” Her leg began to twitch more as she continued to talk about Eddie, to Eddie.

“He stays anonymous when he performs, I find it so hot no one knows who he really is” Her twitching turned into a small bounce and Eddie stepped back away from her.

“Oi! Nutcase, stop harassing the customers, get back to work!” Keith yelled from the front of the store, shutting down this girl’s excitement. This didn’t sit well with Eddie at all.

“Does he always talk to you like that?”

The girl looked down at her shoes nervously. “Yeah, he does”

Eddie grunted, “He’s an asshole, you know that?” The girl only nodded back.

Her submission to the asshole up the front only enraged Eddie more. “Hey! Keith!” He shouted across the store, stomping up to the counter.

“Find someone else to pick on” He growled before planting one hard punch to Keith’s face, definitely breaking his nose. Other customers in the store looked up, curious about the commotion.

“And treat your staff better”

Keith groaned in pain, “She’s fucking useless man, what the fuck”

Something in Eddie felt protective over this girl, and he wasn’t sure why. She was a fan obviously and a part of him felt indebted to her for her devotion to his art, whether she knew it or not.

“Come on” Eddie grunted, pulling the strange girl by her arm and out of the store. He knew it wouldn’t be too long before Keith calls the police and they’re hot on his trail again.

“Where are we going?” She asked still being dragged by Eddie.

“To your place”

Surprisingly it didn’t take any convincing at all for this girl to lead Eddie in the direction of her house, taking backstreets to avoid attention. Eddie added this to her list of traits that made her a freak, who the hell takes a guy like Eddie home after that?

“Hey, stop” Eddie interrupts once they were far enough away, he thought they’d be safe from authorities. “Fuck this shit” he said ripping off the name badge from her uniform. “You don’t need that shithole” The girl looked at Eddie now, analysing him.

“Am I fired?”

The question baffled him, how does he answer that. Did he just get her fired?

“Like I said, you don’t need that shithole” He punctuated, motioning for her to continue walking, he was still fucking starving.

-

She led him up to a plain white house, perfect coverup assuming Keith doesn’t talk. Inside, it was as plain at the exterior, perfect picture of boring suburbia. Eddie couldn’t help comparing it to somewhere they’d send him to torture him.

“My Dads on a trip and my Moms at work, no one will find you here” The girl said, practically reading Eddies mind.

She walked him through and into the kitchen offering him a glass of water, which Eddie rejected as he pushed her out of the way to scan her fridge.

“Where’s the beer?”

The strange girl shrugged, “Dad doesn’t like beer”

“Is there any booze in this house?” He asked, already getting irritated.

“Well, dads got a special bottle of whiskey he saves for Christmas each year in his study, he says its vintage”

“Perfect” Eddie answered, “Go get it”

He continued to rummage through the fridge, pulling out bread, turkey meat and cranberry jelly. The girl stayed put, not answering Eddie. “Is there a problem?”

“Its Dads special Whiskey, he only drinks it on Christmas”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Whatever”

Once his sandwich was made Eddie began to look around the house, looking for anything valuable he could snatch on his way out tomorrow. “What’s your deal then?” Eddie called from a gallery wall near the front entrance, viewing a series of boring family photos, this family didn’t even go on vacation, every photo looked like a Macys photoshoot.

“What do you mean?” She asked sneaking up next to Eddie, causing him to jump and hold his chest.

“Fucking creepy, don’t do that” He hissed before composing himself, “I mean, what do you do besides work at the record store, did you go to college? Actually, how old are you?”

“I’m 20, I did one year at college, but mom thought I’d be better working and getting some life experience and going back later when I gained a bit more confidence”

Eddie noted the way she spoke to the wall rather than to Eddie, so he turned to face her directly, encouraging her to do the same.

“You think you’re getting life experience getting yelled at by Keith?”

“Not really”

Eddie crossed his arms, “what do you want to be doing then?”

The girl took a moment to consider her next words, biting her lip in thought. “Follow me” She led him up a flight of stairs and into a bedroom with the most contradicting aesthetic Eddie had ever seen. Her bed was cutely decorated with girly blankets, a pile of stuffed animals in the corner. Cascading over the bed was a frilly canopy covered in fairly lights. To the opposite wall was a white traditional vanity with a pretty jewellery box decorated with glittery stickers, and various lip glosses and juvenile makeup products. The walls however were covered in aggressive Metal band posters. Eddie spotted a concert advertisement poster they had put up around town for one of Corroded Coffins gigs. She had a stack of cassettes beside her bed that Eddie imagined didn’t contain a single Madonna album.

“I want to start a band” She spoke quickly, rummaging through a cardboard box of letters, papers and various craft equipment.

“I don’t have anyone to join the band, but I’ve been writing songs” She pulls out one envelope generously decorated in stickers. “I sometimes send the love songs to Vandal from Corroded Coffin” she explains turning around to show Eddie the letter she had, addressed to his uncles PO box.

Eddies stomach dropped, face void of any blood as he stared at the familiar envelope connecting the dots between this girl and the girl he’d been fantasizing about for over a year now.

This was fucking bad.

[lh44girl]

A New Year’s Spark

It was the perfect winter retreat. Lewis had invited a few close friends to his sprawling mountain cabin in Colorado to ring in the New Year. Snow blanketed the ground, the fireplace roared, and the house buzzed with easy laughter and clinking glasses. You felt grateful to be included in his circle, even though being around Lewis always made your heart race a little faster than it should.

He was a friend—a good one at that—but there were moments when his smile lingered a little too long, or when his teasing made your cheeks flush. Tonight, with the cozy atmosphere and the gentle glow of the firelight, those feelings simmered just beneath the surface.

The evening passed in a blur of board games, drinks, and stories, and by the time everyone retreated to their rooms, the cabin was silent except for the soft creak of settling wood. Exhausted, you slipped under the plush duvet, letting the warmth lull you into a deep sleep.

The dream hit you out of nowhere. You were in the kitchen, but it wasn’t like before. Lewis stood close, too close, his dark eyes locking onto yours. His hands brushed your waist, his touch searing. You were raped in his strong arms his lips hovers around your ear “I notice how your body respond around me, you’re captivating” he murmured, his voice sending shivers down your spine

Before you could answer, his lips claimed yours, hot and insistent. Your fingers tangled in his hair as you whispered his name— “Lewis…” you moaned his name. You’re body arching towards him as desire overtakes you. As one of his hands trace along the line of your sweet spot, you murmur in your sleep “God, Lewis ..” the words spilling from your lips unbidden.

In the quiet hallway, Lewis Froze, he was passing by to get some water when he heard his name, his eyebrows shot up as he realized the tone was not one of distress. a slow, amused grin spread across his face , while passing by your room.

The next morning, you woke up remarkably well rested,though vaguely aware of a dream that had left you warm and flushed . You stretched lazily walking around to find Lewis in the kitchen brewing coffee. He seemed his usual self—relaxed, charming, and effortlessly cool—but there was a glint of mischief in his eyes whenever he spoke to you.

“Morning” you greeted each other

“Sleep well ?” he asked casually over breakfast, leaning against the counter with his coffee mug.

“Yeah, surprisingly well ,” you replied quickly, avoiding his gaze.

He smirked. “Good to know. You seemed… pretty comfortable last night.”

Your spoon clattered into your bowl. “What does that mean?”

He shrugged, his expression innocent. “Nothing. Just saying you were… vocal. Must’ve been a great dream.”

Your face turned scarlet as the memory of the dream hits you like a freight train . the implication sank in. He knew. He noticed how you cheeks turned all the colors of red, how your lips were shivering as you bite your lower lip trying to contrôle it while hiding behind your coffee mug

“I—uh—don’t remember,” you lied, your brain stuttered, trying to focus on your coffee as your cheeks burned, and your legs crossed and squeezed together. you felt that your panties were socked & needed to run back to your room asap.

“Mm-hmm,” he said, clearly unconvinced but merciful enough to let it go. He noticed all your body language, and how you weren’t aware that your Pjs were a little bit of a light fabric showing how your nipples were hard and perky

During the day, activities out door took place, you were not a skier so you ended up just around your friends who skied or on the snow motorcycles . When it was time for dinner or just being inside, everyone was busy with preparing food or drinks or just deciding on indoor games, Lewis all day long couldn’t take his eyes off of you, when none was looking or noticing, his gaze would linger a little long on you, noticing the color of your laced lingerie that would pick out of your jeans or through that cotton top warmer. You on the other hand, your face said it all, flushed as if you had a fever coming along, even one of your friends where worried you got one !!

That night, as Lewis lay in his room, his thoughts betrayed him. He had brushed off what he heard with teasing ease, but the memory of your voice murmuring his name had replayed in his head all day, the way you looked in the morning perky & undeniably messy cute & shy . Now, as he drifted off, the boundary between reality and fantasy blurred.

In his dream, you were standing in front of him wearing nothing but the black laced lingerie that he noticed picking from your jeans and through your white blouse ( that he had noticed during the day) smiling coyly. The air crackled with unspoken tension. He reached out, his fingers trailing along your arm as your breath hitched. In the dream he could remember all your delicate details , your neck,your breast,your smell, he explored your body with curiosity with his soft finger tips. The dream escalated quickly, and when he woke up with a sharp intake of breath, the remnants of it lingered in vivid detail. He groaned, running a hand over his face“This is bad,” he muttered to himself, his body betraying him ,waking up with boner he couldn’t hide. Lewis decided to take a cold shower just to try to brush off the excitement.

The next day, he couldn’t stop noticing you. The way you tucked your hair behind your ear, the soft laugh that escaped when someone made a joke, the curve of your neck & waist as you leaned forward. It was maddening.He found himself stealing glances, his mind wandering to places it shouldn’t. Every little movement you made seemed to draw him in, and the tension simmered beneath the surface. Each time, both of you were next to each other, he would steal a smell of your perfume, perks of being short & petite he would stand behind you hovering over you. Your face would turn red, and you would feel hot to the point that you wanted to be out side in the snow in your underwear. Lewis also experience uncontrollable excitement each time your hand touches his or you to would end up just next to each other on the crowded couch on movie night. During the skie trip, you were having trouble with your snow board, Lewis offers to help, this made the tension between the two of you more accelerated, holding you close by the waist , manhandling you so you won’t slip and fall , hearing you laugh with excitement. His touch to you , having his breath minty fresh next ear and neck trying to explain the technique. He was surprised that he had no contrôle over his excitement having to deal with a boner (publicly) while you on the other hand, had trouble keeping your panties clean.

By the time New Year’s Eve arrived, the two of you could hardly meet each other’s eyes without feeling that undercurrent of something unsaid. As midnight approached, the group gathered around the fire to count down, champagne glasses in hand “Ten,Nine..” everyone cheered, but your gaze met Lewis’s, & the rest of the world seamed to blur.

When the clock struck midnight, the room erupted in cheers, but for a brief moment, it felt like it was just the two of you. He leaned closer,his lips hovered over yours stealing a kiss at midnight while saying, “Happy New Year.”

The weight of his words & both of you exchanging a kiss hung between you, a promise of something yet to come.

[aventurineswife]

Aventurine wife but Sunday pfp smh

Lol but I have 101 pulls saved so far for Sunday so in celebration I would like to request Sunday with reader who gets him a gift to welcome him to the express. I'd probably do something hand made cause I think those kinds of presents are meaningful.

Welcome to the family, Sunday!

Summary: you create a handmade bracelet as a meaningful gift to welcome Sunday aboard the Astral Express. The bracelet, crafted with celestial beads and lavender thread, symbolizes connection and kindness. Though Sunday harbors a twisted belief in the Sweetdream Paradise, the gift resonates with him, leading to a quiet, shared moment of understanding between you two.

Tags: AE!Sunday x Reader, Handmade Gift, Emotional Connection, Gentle Romance.

A/N: SHHH!! 🫣 I'LL CHANGE IT SOON!! Take this in the meantime 🤲

The Astral Express hummed with the soft glow of stars as it sliced through the cosmos, an endless journey across the universe. You stood at the side of the locomotive, your hands fidgeting nervously. Today was important. Today, you would welcome Sunday—one of the most revered members of the Oak Family—aboard the train.

Though you knew Sunday as a man of great dignity and wisdom, you also knew there was more to him than the poised leader he projected to the world. His belief in the Sweetdream Paradise was something you couldn’t quite reconcile with, but you respected his view—no matter how different it was from your own. After all, there was a certain kind of pain in seeing the world with so much uncertainty.

But this gift… you hoped it would speak to him in a way that words never could.

You'd spent weeks working on it, carefully handcrafting each detail with a kind of tenderness that only you could understand. It wasn’t much—just a small, intricately woven bracelet—but it was imbued with something personal, something that could perhaps touch the hearts of those who wore it. The bracelet was made from pale silver thread, woven together with strands of glowing celestial beads, each one meant to symbolize a star that would never fall from the sky. You had used thread dyed a soft blue, the color of skies, which seemed fitting, considering Sunday's ethereal nature.

You glanced at the door to the cabin, waiting for his arrival.

When it finally slid open, there stood Sunday in his usual immaculate attire, the long tailcoat flowing elegantly behind him. His eyes flickered over the room, his expression a mix of curiosity and recognition as they landed on you.

"I see you’ve been waiting." he said softly, his voice carrying a certain calm authority, yet with an underlying gentleness.

You felt a flutter of warmth at the sight of him. You’d only spoken in passing since he had boarded the Astral Express, but today, there was something different in the air. Something intimate.

You cleared your throat, stepping forward slowly. "Yes, I have. I, uh, wanted to give you something… a small gift," you said, holding out the bracelet, the delicate glow of the celestial beads catching the light.

Sunday raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "A gift?" he mused, taking the bracelet gently in his hands. His gaze softened as he examined it closely, the soft blue strands catching his attention.

"You don't have to accept it," you said quickly, a little embarrassed. "I just thought it might be meaningful—since, well, you're new here and all."

His fingers brushed over the beads as he looked up, and for a moment, his eyes met yours, piercing yet somehow gentle. "You believe in meaning behind these things," he said, almost to himself. His voice was softer now, as if he was considering something deeper.

"Yes, I do," you replied, your heart racing a little under the weight of his gaze. "Sometimes, a gift doesn’t have to be grand to carry meaning. I thought this might remind you that even in the vastness of the universe, you’re not alone. You don’t have to carry everything by yourself."

A faint smile played at the corners of Sunday’s lips, but it was not the usual serene, distant expression he wore. It was something softer, warmer. "You would choose such a gift for me," he said, his tone shifting slightly. "A reminder that, even in a world built on ideals of survival, there is kindness."

He turned the bracelet over in his fingers, lost in thought for a moment. "I suppose... I can accept this," he said, his voice gentle yet resolute. "Not as a symbol of weakness, but as a testament to the strength of connection."

You felt a rush of relief, even as your chest tightened at his words. He didn’t see it as an escape or an illusion—he understood it, in his own way. This gift, this simple gesture, was something that transcended the dream of a perfect world.

You smiled softly, watching as Sunday carefully slipped the bracelet onto his wrist, the delicate strands of blue and celestial beads now draping across his skin.

"Thank you," he murmured, his voice softer than you'd ever heard it. "For the kindness you’ve shown me. Perhaps... there is meaning beyond what I’ve dreamed."

You nodded, heart swelling with a quiet happiness. "No matter how far the stars may stretch, we’re all connected, Sunday. Even in the Sweetdream Paradise, you're not alone."

A flicker of something warm passed through his eyes, the glimmer of gold and navy that always seemed to hold a thousand unspoken truths. "No," he agreed, his voice carrying the weight of the cosmos. "Perhaps... we’re not."

As the Astral Express continued its journey through the vast, starlit expanse, you both stood together—silent, yet connected by a bond that neither the dream of paradise nor the harshness of reality could sever.

[chanlix-honey]

Run It Again (Bang Chan)

Warning: Smut (+18), pet names, daddy kink, fingering, fear of thunder, and a panic attack occurrence. Please let me know if I missed anything! Minors, please do not interact.

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: Thank you all for your patience! Without further ado, here's my first Bang Chan x Fem Reader fic. I'm thinking of making this a series, but I have too many ideas and not enough time to write. Let me know if you would like me to continue this, and make it a series with all the boys!

It’s Friday night, and you’ve just come home from a long day of doing voiceovers. With your throat a little sore, you decide to boil some water for a honey tea and change out of your work clothes. Once you’ve changed into your sleepwear, your phone rings. Your manager, Delilah, is calling you.

“Hey Y/N, are you busy tomorrow?”

“Uh, no I don’t think so. Why, what’s up, Delilah?” You ask. You hear her sneeze, sounding distant from her phone. 

“-choo! I’m so sorry for calling so last minute, but the animation team just told me they finished the final scenes for the show,” she starts.

“Ah, ok.” Your kettle clicks off, signaling that your water is boiled. You return to the kitchen, grabbing a cup, spoon, and a honey jar. 

You shoulder your phone to multitask the call and your tea. “And you know what else is great? Cough cough—The director called just before I called you to say that the voices need to be done by Sunday morning so the team can review it.” 

You stop your movements, putting down the honey. 

“What?”

“Yeah…I know.” 

You both sigh on the call together. Delilah clears her throat.

“Could you come in tomorrow morning so we can make any necessary edits before the review?” Her coughs crunch on the other end of the line.

“Definitely, I’ll be there in the morning.” 

“Great! I’ll email you the script now so you can take a look at your lines beforehand. I’m so sorry for all of this, I’m—cough—sure this is inconvenient for you.”

“It’s okay, really! Like I said, I have no plans for tomorrow.” You reassure her. 

“Ok, thank you...I’ll see you tomorrow! I’ll send the script now. Good night, y/n!” 

“Got it. Good night Delilah.” You both hang up.

You stir the honey and hot water in thought. 

As much as you love voice acting, sometimes the job can be stressful. You’re grateful that this job lets you express yourself through characters and it pays your bills. And to be working with the company of your dreams—Stray Kids—is unreal. You remember watching Skzoo as a kid and the joy it brought you. And yet, you can’t help but think that there seems to be some lack of communication (and time management?) within some departments. Hyunjin–head of animation–often loses his head if Felix isn’t around to check in with him.

Finishing your tea, you put the cup in the sink. You head to the fridge to grab some leftovers and put them in the microwave to heat up. Once the food starts rotating, you hear your phone ding. Checking the notification, you read the email. It’s the script for tomorrow’s session.

The TV plays in the background, but you don’t really pay any mind to it until this moment. “Be sure to bring an umbrella if you’re planning to go out tomorrow, as there is a high chance of rain tomorrow…”

You skim through your lines until the microwave beeps. You take out your food and begin to read through the script carefully.

“Okay, let’s do this.”

—

You arrive in front of the production building. 

Dark clouds billow the skies, and the sound of thunder floods your ears. You scamper into the building quickly, umbrella in hand. When you enter the building the rain begins to pelt down on the ground. You jump, as lightning strikes outside. For a moment, you stop and breathe deep and shaky breaths. Once you’ve calmed down, you take the stairs to the second floor. All the recording booths are at this level, making it helpful for your trembling knees.

“Let’s hope it doesn’t last all day,” you mutter to yourself. 

You’ve always hated storms. They’ve terrified you ever since you were a kid. The strong winds always made you paranoid, thinking of the worst situations. When thunder breached your ears, you would always hide under a blanket to muffle the noise. Your parents used to let you hide in their closet to calm down, usually with a stuffed animal or blanket in hand. 

Even today, they stress you out. As if coming to work in the morning for a last-minute session wasn’t stressful enough.

Entering the recording room, you put your stuff down on the couch with a sigh of relief. Thank goodness for sound-proof rooms. Comfortable with the atmosphere, you head into the booth. You take some headphones sitting on a small table in the booth and put them on. Waiting for Delilah and the others to come in, you open your phone to review the script some more. After a few minutes, you get a text from her.

Hey Y/N, just wanted to let you know I can’t make it to the studio today. I woke up with a terrible cold. One of the other guys will come in to watch over your session.

Ah, ok. Thanks for letting me know! I’ll stop by to bring you some soup. Take it easy in the meantime!

One of the other guys? Who could it—

“—Y/N? Can you hear me?” A male voice takes you out of your thoughts. You widen your eyes as you’re familiar with that voice. Looking up, you see him.

“Oh good, you can. I’ll be filling in for Delilah, so just do your lines as if I wasn’t here.” He smiles.

The director is here? Why him, out of everyone? Your hands begin to clam up.

Changbin or Han is usually here to fill in if something happens. 

“Ahm, I got them working on other projects this morning, so their schedules are full.”

“Oh, I said that out loud, didn’t I?”

He nods, sheepishly. An embarrassing moment of silence passes and his voice fills my ears. 

“Right, go ahead and start from line 5, I’ll play the scene just two lines before yours, so be ready.” You nod in agreement.

The scene plays and you’re cued in to say your line. “Hello! I’m Joy, the host of this series, where the boys bake…”

You breeze through your lines and before you know it, you’re nearly done with this session. 

Until, this line. 

This is great! Mmm, this pastry is so good, mmm…

You tense up, forgetting that line felt a little lewd for your liking. You thought about it while reading through the script the first time. Realizing that Delilah would be there to listen in, the anxious thought went away quickly. 

But Delilah isn’t here. Chan is. The director of this whole project is here watching you voice your lines.

No way. No way I’m doing this line in front of the director. It feels weird…wrong even. I can’t do this! 

You’ve never really interacted with a guy in that way before. There is zero experience in that field. You never even touched porn or smut books to find out. You run away when guys flirt with you. The idea of interacting with someone to that extent terrifies you. Doing anything that even remotely puts yourself in a situation that could lead to uhm…doing more…sets you off. You’re worried you would mess up. Especially since you wouldn’t know what to do. You find that trying to function becomes quickly more difficult.

You curse to yourself at the cold that took over Delilah. 

The count-in starts, quickly realizing you're up. And the line is next. “This is g-great! Sorry, I stuttered.” He pauses the recording to talk to you.

“No worries, we can always cut it. Just try it again. I’ll give you the last line to prepare yourself.” He instructs, hearing the count-in tick in your ears.

“This is great! M–coughs” he pauses it again. “Is everything okay Y/N?”

“coughs, clearing throat y-eah, yeah. Sorry, I just had something caught in my throat *coughs* I-I’m fine.” You move away from the microphone to clear your throat some more. After a moment, you stretch and take deep breaths to calm down.

“I’m alright now, I can do it this time!” 

“Ok, let’s take it back to the last line.” You nod and hear the count-in once more.

The line plays and you’re ready. “This is grea-AH!” You jump back from the microphone and take your headphones off. Chan bursts into the booth concerned.

“What’s wrong?” He asks.

“A spider..” you pant. “I saw a spider on the mic…” He looks around the mic and the ground to find it. 

“Spider? I don’t see it anywhere.” He keeps looking around but to no avail. You could’ve sworn you saw it! Didn’t you? Or maybe was it just your hair in your face? 

He sighs and rubs his eyes. 

“I know we’re almost done, but let’s take a break. It’s still early, and we’re both clearly tired. We’ve been going at this for a few hours already.” His head tilts towards the door leading back to the recording space. You follow him begrudgingly.  

He must be so annoyed with me. Maybe he’ll fire me for this… You think to yourself.

Once exiting the booth, you see him back in the chair staring ahead, lost in thought.

After a few moments, he speaks again. 

“I’ve noticed you’re having trouble finishing the line.” He looks at you. Chan gets up from the chair and saunters over to you. 

“I-I just got it yesterday...I’m just flubbing over this one.” You reassure, avoiding eye contact. Keeping a distance, you walk backward as he continues coming towards you. 

“Honest. You just said yourself, it’s early. W-we’re tired. I-I’m tired.” You stammer. Unable to walk any further, your back presses against the wall. Chan places his hand on the wall, near your face, and leans in closer and closer, just until there’s a few inches of space between your noses.

“I don’t believe you. I think you’re nervous.” he sneers, picking up on your nerves.

“Is it…because of me?” He questions.

“That’s..I–” he gently grabs your chin and tilts it up, bringing your vision back to him.

“Delilah tells me you’re great at what you do. Am I wrong?” You feel your face getting hot.

“N-no, you’re not..” you mutter.

You hear your heartbeat travel from your chest to your ears. Blood continues to rush to your face. You start to feel your pussy thrum at the situation.

“Hm. Thought so.” The hand on your chin travels to your lips. His thumb brushes his thumb over your bottom lip.

So soft…I could kiss her right now. He thinks.

“Have you…have you been with someone before?” He looks down at your lips, licking his. Your eyes widen at the question.

“I-!” You close your mouth, trying to collect your thoughts. He looks back up to you, waiting for your response.

“I don’t think that question has anything to do with my work—”

“—Oh but it does. Have you ever felt a man’s touch before, Y/n?” Your brain short circuits. You struggle to find words.

“Have they…” his hand slinks down to your hip, his other hand still perched on the wall.

“Taken care of your needs?”

“Uh…” you begin to feel a wetness growing in your panties.

“Maybe…pleasured you before?” His hand shifts some more, resting on your thigh. His thumb rubs towards your inner thigh, fingers reaching close to your womanhood. You feel yourself vibrate under his touch.

“I…” his hand stops moving on your thigh, waiting for your response. 

“N-no..” you whisper. “You’re the first.” He hums in response, as his eyes darken.

“Then can I–no. May I, take care of you?”

All the lights were cut off, and all the electronics whirring in the room were powered down. Chan looked around in the dark room, realizing what had just happened.

“Eep!” You quickly grab onto Chan’s shirt and hide in his chest. 

“The storm must have knocked out the electricity. It’s alr–”

“–Please.” His attention is brought back to you. 

“Please, uhm…” You wrap your arms around his shoulders, combing your fingers into his hair. He smiles.

“At your service.” He leans in to kiss you, closing the gap. 

For the first time in your life, you feel so...aware of your body. Blood pumps to your fingers. Goosebumps lay atop your skin. You feel your hair standing up. You feel the fuzz on your soft sweater. The chill rushing up your back. The throbbing in your jeans. The warmth of his touch. His hands ride up under your sweater, just enough where he can feel the skin above your jeans. 

The smell of Chan’s cologne wraps around you, and it's so rich. It’s a light vanilla smell with a bite of cedar and a dash of cinnamon–it’s all you want to smell. And his hair is so plush. It’s like feeling a pillow. You want him, and yet you can’t do anything. You don’t know how.

Your lips move with tenacity, with caution. Anxiety prisons your well-being and you freeze, unsure of what to do next. Chan notices this and pulls back. He rubs his thumbs on your hips to help you calm down.

“Is this ok? Do you want to stop?” He asks.

“I-No. I’m sorry, this is ok…I just don’t know what to do.” Your mind is going a million miles per hour. You struggle to grasp where your head is. All the possibilities of what-ifs, hows, and should-I thoughts whir into the blender that is your mind. You’re slipping into the rabbit hole. A dark pit of void that is filled with racing thoughts. The void strangles you, seeping into your lungs. They continue to fill, ready to burst–

“—Y/N?” A pin drops. You hear your name breathe past his lips. 

“Hey. Hey, it’s alright. We can stop if you’re not feeling ok.”

“No, sorry I–I just need a second.” You shakily sigh. “Can I–is it ok if I hug you? Sorry, I–”

He pulls you into his chest, and a small poomf sound is heard, as he wraps his arms around you. Your body vibrates for a moment. Your anxiousness has nowhere to go, so it encapsulates your body. You take deep breaths to really try and calm down. Chan rubs the small of your back–ever so softly–you hum in response.

“Don’t apologize to me ever again. And you don’t have to ask if you need something from me. Just tell me, and I’ll make it happen.”

“Sor–I’ll-I’ll try.” You sink further into his chest as you feel your heart beating to a normal level. Your shoulders slump and you wrap your arms around him.

You start to hear his heart beating in his chest. It’s nearly all you can hear.

After a few minutes, you let go of him and he gently pulls away.

“How are you feeling?” He whispers.

“Better.” You sigh in contentment.

“..And about…?” He leads. You feel your face get hot again.

“Oh! Uh, y-es. I’m still–yes.” You nod. “Tell me at any point if you want to stop, ok?”

“Alright,” you respond. He leans down to your ear and whispers.

“Good girl. Listen to your body and let it talk for you. I’ll do the rest.” He brings his hands to your hips once more. He tilts down, his face breathing down your neck. Softly, he presses his lips to it. 

Again. 

Again. 

Again. 

He keeps at this to trail down your neck and a bit past your collarbone. He stops just above your sweater, where it lays. 

“I’m going to take this off of you, ok? Raise your arms for me, baby girl.” You do just as you’re told, and he pulls your sweater off of you, revealing your chest and baby pink bra. You’re itching to hide your chest as a habit but you’re more curious to see what else he does next. So you tame the itch. 

“Beautiful. Absolutely beautiful.” Chan takes you into his arms and kisses in between your breasts. He sucks and licks all around your exposed flesh, leaving marks. In the midst of this, he slips one of his hands onto your bra’s clasp and undoes the latch. Coming up to your shoulders, he slides the bands of your bra off them.

“Do you know how gorgeous you are?” You look away, blushing some more. You feel your lower region pulse. A soaking feeling sits in your panties once more and you moan quietly. Though not quiet enough. 

“Fuck baby girl,” Bangchan grabs your thighs and lifts you. “Daddy wants to hear that again.” You wrap your legs around his hips. Chan kisses you again, his tongue threatening to take dominance. He licks your bottom lips for entrance and you comply, letting him explore your tongue. 

He leans you on the wall to take a hand to one of your breasts. With his right hand free, he teases your nipples, pinching and pulling at his own discretion. You moan and whimper in his mouth and Chan can’t help but praise you. He pulls away from the intense kiss while continuing to play with your breasts.

“That’s it pretty girl, you’re so good for me.” Chan nuzzles himself into the other side of your neck, leaving kisses all over it. 

“Everyone should know you’re mine,” he growls. He sucks and bites your neck, intentionally bruising it. 

“O-oh Chan…” you whimper. Still on his hips, you feel his stiffness. You need more of him, this isn’t enough.

“Mmh..” you grind on him once and your pussy twitches. Both of you are still clothed. There’s so many layers between you two. But you can’t help it. You want him. You need him. 

Before you realize, you hear Chan groaning in your ear.

You grind on him again. And again. And again.

“Fuck baby, you’re so eager. You want my dick, huh? You want daddy’s dick in you, princess?” He growls.

You stop for a moment, feeling your body flutter in response to Bangchan calling himself “Daddy”. Rolling off his tongue so pleasantly, so confidently. You plead to yourself mentally, wishing he would say it again. You whine, melting into his body.

“Yes! P-please. I n-need it..daddy.” He coos.

“Aw, you're so cute. You like it when I call myself daddy, don't you princess?” Your face feels hot.

“Y-yes..I really like it..” you mutter, hiding your face in his neck.

“Such a sweet girl. I can’t deny you begging so nicely for me. Daddy will give you what you want…but first, I’m going to take your pants off ok?” He speaks softly.

“Ok.” You nod.

He puts you down to unzip your pants. Pulling them down enough to see your matching pink panties. Your damp spot is revealed and he hums at the sight.

“My, my, baby girl. All soaked, just for me.” He gets down on his knees.

Chan kisses your pussy between the panties and pulls them down, along with your pants. You step out of them, now completely naked. He looks up to you.

“Let me hear you more princess, ok?” Chan plants his face into your region and you squeal in surprise. It’s a new feeling. An odd feeling. A good feeling. Really good. He licks your clit slowly and you whine.

“Ah..d-daddy. That feels good,” you sigh. Chan licks a long stripe, close to your cunt. You feel the pit of your belly sink. At the same time, it feels like something’s unraveling, like a blooming flower. One by one petals peel away from its center. Your cunt pulsates, aching for more.

Chan speeds up, his tongue flattening and stretching between your folds. He alternates his pace, all in attempts to rile you up. This works, as you feel..something grow.

This bubbling feeling…feels like it’s going to burst…

“I’m–I’m–” 

Before you can form your sentence, your body shakes, erupting a wave of shock and pleasure throughout your body. He stops his actions to give you a moment.

“Good girl, let it all out for Daddy,” He brings a hand to your head, petting your hair gently.

Once your body relaxes, you feel something warm and wet come out of you. 

“Ah, you’re so pretty when you cum babygirl.” He kisses your temples gingerly. 

You could barely feel his kisses as your body felt like it was floating. You feel hazy, but good. All you’re thinking about is Chan and you feel butterflies in your belly. Your thoughts move slowly. Drifting around like clouds. Eventually, come back to yourself.

“Doing ok cutie?” He asks.

All you could muster up to say was “Mhm”. You smile up at him, laying a hand on his cheek. 

“We didn’t get to, um–” He interrupts.

��It’s ok, I came when you did. We can work up to it next time.” He grabs the hand on his cheek and kisses it.

“N-Next time?!” You blush.

“Of course…and we have some things to talk about before we get there. Would you like to get lunch together?”

Thunder dispels the sweet moment you both shared. “Can we order in?”

“Of course. We’re gonna be stuck inside for a bit.” He giggles.

“Let’s get you cleaned up first, yeah?”

[vrystalius]

How would Sanemi react if every time he and his crush were about to kiss, someone interrupted? He and his crush love each other, but they haven't confessed their feelings yet, so whenever they're alone, someone interrupts their romantic moment! 💚

Being interrupted while you’re trying to confess… again.

Note: Thank you for requesting, hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Sanemi x hashira!reader

You wanted to unwind after a long day of gruelling training and finally relax in the hotsprings for the rest of the evening. After removing your sweaty uniform and putting it aside, you stepped into the water

You let out a soft sigh after letting yourself get submerged. There’s no one else but you around, so you can swim around and splash in the warm water as much as you want.

But after finally setting down and leaning against the cooling rocks, you heard someone else enter the water. You lifted your head to glance at the person that joined you, only to find the wind hashira staring back at you.

Oh, great.

Sanemi was staring back at you with wide eyes. He slowly submerged himself into the water, hiding his naked body from you. His face flushed and his whole body stiffened.

You averted your eyes and looked the woods surrounding the springs, trying to ignore the hashira’s presence all together.

But surprisingly, Sanemi sat down right beside you. He crossed his muscular arms across his chest, not sparing a glance at you.

The tension was palpable and it was fairly awkward between you two.

“Do you come to the springs often?”

Sanemi spoke up, not looking at you, staring at the skies above. It felt like he was trying to avoid looking at you.

“Sometimes.”

You turned to look at him but glanced away quickly again.

“Great.”

“Mhm.”

Silence fell over both of you until you felt the water move around you. Sanemi turned to look at you, quietly. He opened his mouth to say something, but kept quiet. You glanced back at him.

Fuck, you’re so beautiful. Your glistering skin was glowing and the warm light of the lanterns illuminated you in the most gorgeous way possible. You were looking at him through your lashes. You know what you’re doing to him, aren’t you? Sanemi’s face began to heat up and the words got stuck inside his throat again. He fell for you after watching you train for the first time but never admitted his feelings out loud to anyone. You’re probably going to reject him anyways, so why even try?

Gods, Sanemi has the body of the most refined warrior, you thought to yourself. Scars decorate his skin and his muscles are so tense and pronounced. His forearms were so large and defined, if Sanemi wanted to, he could easily toss you around. Not that you would mind. You have been crushing on him for a while now, just admiring him from afar. You were too nervous to act on your feelings.

You two were just staring at each other, admiring your bodies.

“Sanemi… I- uh.. wanted to tell you something. F-For a while now.”

You tried to seem as calm as possible. You and Sanemi were in this exact situation before two weeks ago. After you two were training and sparring together, you were just about to open up your heart to him when Kyojuro’s booming voice interrupted you, asking if you two would like to join the other hashira to go out and eat in a newly opened restaurant. You were so disappointed that you couldn’t confess to him that day…

But now, your heart was racing so quickly, you almost feared you’ll die on the spot before being able to confess. But you needed to get this off your chest for the sake of your sanity.

“Yeah?…”

Sanemi’s eyes widened slightly. Are you about to confess to him? That would be too good to be true, that way he doesn’t have to do it himself. Oh, please confess to him. He subconsciously leaned towards you and rested his weight on one arm. He felt your breath on his face.

“Uhm, I-I actually-“

“You two are here too!!”

The water rippled around you and Sanemi as the love hashira moved towards you two. Sanemi moved away from you again, turning his head away from you two. She joined sat down beside you. Mitsuri had a bright smile on her face, practically beaming at the both of you.

“I never knew you two liked it here!! I come here almost every night! The water is very good for your skin. I heard it even helps healing scar tissue, Shinazugawa-sama!”

Mitsuri leaned over, glancing at Sanemi and his scars. He was not looking back at her.

“‘m leaving.”

“Whaaa? Already? Did I interrupt something?”

Sanemi grumbled and moved away from you and Mitsuri, towards the exit. The love hashira pouted and glanced at you.

“What’s up with him?”

You just shrugged. Is the universe against you confessing your love to Sanemi for some reason?

💠

Ohhhh I liked writing this a lot! This was fun! Thank you for reading and I hoped you enjoyed reading it!

Make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough <3

Take care if yourselves!

[gardens-light]

Hi um can I request for B-127 and femme s/o who has the same relationship of Wall-E and Eve. Let's pretend that earth existed and s/o space pod accidentally landed in the surface of cybertron instead of earth ( this takes place after the energon started flowing again in cybertron)

Hi! First of all, many apologies for the super long wait. And second, this is such a super cute prompt! Hopefully I was able to balance out the inspiration from Wall-E, but also staying true Bee's character. Enjoy!

A Love From The Stars

Content: Transformers One, B-127 x GN/Robotic-Humanoid Reader. Events' takes place after TFO. Fluff/Comfort. Friends to Lovers.

Song Inspiration: Dusk Till Dawn- Haluna ft. Le Bober

Word Count: 5200

Cybertron.

A world once drowning under Sentinel Prime's rule, now was slowly healing. The great city of Iacon may stood in ruins, but life had begun to return. Streams of glowing energon carved their way through the wastelands, bringing colour and movement back to the planet’s surface.

And amid the silence of forgotten places, where the wreckage of old ruins lay buried in dust and time, he remained.

B-127.

The little scout had always been different from his kind. While his fellow Cybertronians focused on rebuilding Cybertron’s grand civilization, B-127 was drawn to the little things.

The way the neon-lit skies shimmered at night. How energon rivers pulsed like veins of life through the metal ground. The odd trinkets he found buried in wreckage—tiny, discarded pieces of Cybertron’s past that no one else seemed to care about. But Bee cared.

He spent his days wandering the wastelands, gathering remnants of the old world, arranging them into small collections in his makeshift home—an abandoned bunker, (despite Orion Pax insisting on giving him a shiny new apartment in one of the many towers of Iacon) now filled with glowing artifacts, mechanical flowers, and rusted, half-functional trinkets.

He had no words to explain why he did these things.

Only that it made him... happy.

That was, until.... you arrived.

A streak of white fire tore through the atmosphere, spiraling out of control. A pod—small, unfamiliar, alien—screamed toward the surface.

Bee’s optics widened. A ship? No, not Cybertronian. Too compact. Too… organic in design.

The impact sent a tremor through the land. Dust and metal debris lifted in the air as the pod skidded across the abandoned wasteland before coming to a shuddering stop.

Bee hesitated for only a moment before sprinting toward the wreckage. His wheels screeched against the metallic ground as he skidded to a stop, optics wide as he took in the sight before him.

The pod was definitely not Cybertronian. It was smaller, smoother—its design almost organic. Steam hissed from the edges as it powered down.

Something moved inside. The hatch hissed open.

A figure stepped out, sleek and strange with a body crafted of smoother, softer in design, with joints more flexible than any Cybertronian he’d ever seen. They were a machine, but their form carried organic elements, like someone had taken human aesthetics and merged them into something mechanica. Optics—large and filled with wonder—glowed with soft golden light.

You moved with grace, but also with hesitation, scanning your surroundings with wary precision.

“Hi!” he blurted, waving. “You're definitely not from here! This is Cybertron! I’m B-127, but you can call me Bee! Do you have a name? What are you? Where did you come from? Did you mean to crash, or was it an accident? Oh—wait—do you need help? I can help! I love helping!”

You froze, optics flicking across his frame.

B-127 was bigger than you, towering over with his Cybertronian build. His voice was loud, too fast, too much at once.

Your servos twitched, instinctively tensing, as systems buzzed with high alert.

Bee immediately noticed your hesitation. His processors scrambled for a way to fix this.

“Oh—uh—sorry... Too much?” He took a step back, raising his servos in what he hoped was a non-threatening gesture. “I talk a lot. I get excited. Sorry. Let’s try again, uh—what’s your name?”

You couldn't help but study him.

He was… odd.

Unlike most life forms you had encountered during your journey across the stars. They were intimidating, cold, and strategic, this one? Was open, eager, and oddly friendly.

After a moment of hesitation, your voice came out in a soft tone. "Y/N.”

Bee's features lit up immediately.

“Y/N? That’s an awesome name!” he grinned, optics bright with enthusiasm. “Nice to meet you, Y/N! Okay, so—uh, you crash-landed, right? Need any help?”

You glanced back at the pod. The hull was scorched, panels dented from impact. Sparks flickered from the damaged circuits inside, the impact fried the control panel.

“…Yes,” you lowly admitted, taking a deep breath before continuing. “My pod is damaged. I don’t know if I can get it operational again.”

Bee perked up, his words almost sang in a chirpy tone. “Oh! Oh! I can totally help with that! I know a place—Macadam's! It’s got tools, parts—I mean, I can’t promise high quality stuff, but we can patch your pod up! You know, if you want.”

Your gaze returned to him, hesitation stealing your words once again. Your processor just couldn't make sense of this situation, attempting to calculate any possible outcomes or if trust was even an option.

And yet... there was something about Bee—weather it was his unfiltered enthusiasm, or his genuine desire to help—made you pause.

Finally, you slowly nodded.

B-127 grinned so wide his faceplates ached. “Oh, this is gonna be fun!”

Before your processor had the chance to process the situation, Bee quickly grabbed your servo. Pulling you into a world you had never known.

Roughly a week later.

You didn’t expect Bee to talk so much. Or, rather, you didn’t expect him to talk this much.

He never stopped. He moved too fast for you to keep up, words tumbling from his mouth, his servos gesturing wildly as he talked.

“And this—this is the Hall of Records! Boring place, but it’s got Orion Pax in it- Sorry! It had Optimus Prime. He's really great! Over there’s Wheel and Cog—best place to get a drink- Oh! Oh! And this is—”

You barely had time to process before he was off again, voice filled with excitement.

You… wasn’t used to this.

On Earth, most robots were built for efficiency. Function. Even among your human creators, there was always a purpose behind every action.

But Bee? Bee just seemed to love being alive.

He found joy in the smallest things. The neon glow of streetlights, the hum of a passing hovercraft, the way Cybertron’s metallic landscape shimmered under the twin moons.

And—somehow—his enthusiasm was contagious. For the first time since landing, you found yourself smiling.

With B-127, every day was an adventure. Simply learning from one another and enjoying the little things in life.

You taught him how to appreciate silence. (The first time you both sat and simply watched the energon rivers flow, he fidgeted for five minutes before finally settling down.)

Bee showed you all the hidden beauties of Cybertron—the abandoned gardens where metal flowers still glowed faintly with stored energon, secret tunnels where the sky opened up to reveal endless stars.

Throughout your conversations you showed him human culture, teaching him about art, music, and—his favorite—movies. (He became obsessed with old Earth films, particularly ones about heroes saving the day.)

You both worked late into the night, sitting beside each other while fine-tuning the pod's mechanics. But fixing your pod was easier said than done.

B-127 had scavenged and brought everything he could find—wires, tools, even a few panels from an abandoned hovercraft. You simply watched, arms crossed, as he proudly dumped his haul onto the ground, once returning to the crash site.

“Alright! Let’s get to work!” Bee chirped.

You arched an optic ridge. “Do you... even know what you’re doing?”

B-127 hesitated. “…Kinda?”

A heavy sigh escaped you, massaging your temples. Please... if there is a Maker, don't leave me stuck on this strange planet...

Yet to your surprise, B-127 was quick, resourceful—his servos moved with surprising dexterity, weaving together circuits and rerouting power sources. And your knowledge of Earth technology helped guide him through the complex repairs.

Of course there were moments of frustration.

“Bee, that’s the coolant system, not the power relay.” Your words came out sharper than intended.

“Ohhh. That explains why everything just shut off.” But his smile never faded, simply correcting his mistake and following your guide.

And there were moments of success.

“Yes! You got it working!”

Bee's spark sent out zaps of fireworks throughout his circuits, as you threw your arms around his neck. “See? I told you I’m good at this.”

As days turned into weeks, your friendship deepened. And slowly—without realizing it—you started looking at each other differently.

You'd often caught yourself watching him when he spoke, your optics tracing the way his entire body animated whenever he got excited.

B-127 realized he liked the way you'd smile at him. The way you tilted your head whenever confused. The way your servo felt when it lingered in his own.

The way he would glance at you whenever he thought you wasn’t looking. The way his optics would glow just a little brighter whenever you laughed.

B-127 didn’t realize what was happening. He just knew that being with you just... felt right.

That he liked your voice. That he liked showing you new things. That your presence made his spark hum in a way he didn’t understand.

One Night at Your Pod's Crash Site

You finished the last circuit connection inside the pod.

The systems whirred to life. Your ship was fixed.

You should have been thrilled, but instead, all you could do was look at B-127, who stood beside you, staring at the ship’s controls with a strained expression.

He was... quiet... Too quiet.

Bee should have been happy. But instead, he felt… hollow.

Noticing his unusual quietness, you placed a hand on his arm. “Bee?”

“Well! Looks like you’re all set!” Bee blurted out in a way that sounded far too enthusiastic- even for him. Forcing a large grin across his faceplates. "You can head back to Earth—just like you wanted! So that’s great, huh? Super great. Totally, absolutely fantastic!”

You studied him. “…You don’t want me... to leave...?”

B-127’s venting stalled. “I—I mean, it’s your home, right? You should go. You want to go,” he said quickly, looking anywhere but at you. “Isn't that what you wanted? To fix your pod? And now it’s fixed, and you’re leaving, and that’s just—just perfect, because, y’know, it’s not like I was gonna miss you or anything, pfft, no way!” He waved a servo dismissively, laughing nervously, but the forced cheer didn’t reach his optics.

For once, you allowed your body to do what it wanted to do. What you wanted to do. Gently, you cupped his face in your servos.

"Earth is home! S-So why wouldn't you-" B-127’s words immediately died.

His optics widened, his vents hitching as your thumbs traced soft, barely-there circles against his cheek plating.

“U-Um... Y/N?” he stammered, his words uncharacteristically unsure. “What… what are you doing?”

You didn’t answer.

His back hit the cool metal of metallic the feild, his optics still locked onto yours as you carefully guided him down onto his back. Bee let out a surprised little sound, he didn’t resist—he just... stared up at you, his spark thudding erratically within his chassis. His systems buzzing with something completely foreign yet... overwhelmingly good.

You hovered over him now, one servo resting lightly on his chassis, your optics flickering from his surprised gaze to his lips.

B-127 froze, ventilations hitched, his voice barely audible. “Y/N…?”

Again you remained quiet, simply settling over him, your frame pressing lightly against his chassis.

Bee's spark stuttered. His servos hovered awkwardly at his sides, unsure of what to do. A-Am I supposed to hold them? Is this some kind of Earth 'goodbye?'

You leaned down, so close that he could see the faint glow of your optics reflecting in his own.

Then—softly, deliberately—you kissed him.

It was soft. Warm. Delicate.

B-127 short-circuited. His entire system stalled.

Your lips were gentle, moving against his own with a tenderness he had never known. A featherlight press that sent a shockwave throughout his circuits. His spark flared, surging with a new and unfamiliar heat, something so intense it almost overloaded him. The feeling was entirely new- sending a tingling sensation throughout his frame.

His servos twitched, hovering awkwardly in the air, unsure where to put them. His fans kicked on full blast, his spark hammering against his plating.

But then...he melted.

B-127 tentatively kissed you back, his movements shy, hesitant and unsure at first. But then—his servos grasped at your waist, pulling you closer.

And suddenly, he was chasing after the kiss, following the intoxicating warmth that made his entire frame shudder.

A soft gasp briefly escaped you as he tilted his head, deepening the kiss.

Something switched in him.

His hesitation vanished, replaced by a desperate need to feel more of you, to memorize the way your lips felt against his own.

His spark thrummed within its chamber, syncing with your power core in a pulsing rhythm.

He didn’t even realize that he rolled you onto your back, caging your frame beneath his while his mouth moved hungrily against yours.

Your servos slid up his spinal struct, digits caressing the base of his helm.

B-127 let out a sound he didn’t know he could make—a deep, gravelly purr—as you tugged him closer.

The kiss turned hotter, more needy, your frames pressing flush against each other as his spark reached for your energy core in ways neither of you fully understood.

It was instinctual—something far beyond simple affection.

It was like... your very beings were somehow calling to each other.

B-127 blinked dazedly, his optics bright and unfocused. As you broke the kiss, a chuckle escaped you, brushing your nose against his.

“…Oh,” he muttered, voice hoarse. “O-Oh, Primus, I didn’t mean to—uh—I mean—I did!—but I didn’t—I just—”

His words immediately fell silent, as you placed a digit to his lips. Looking up at him with that sweet smile that he loved.“ I didn’t mind. I... quite liked it actually."

B-127 stared at you, dazed. “Y-You… did?”

You leaned in, forehead resting against his.

“Very much.” You murmured, pressing a soft peck to his lips.

Bee short-circuited all over again, making a noise that was definitely not a squeak.

You couldn't help but laugh, as he rolled off you. Laying upon his back again, a subtle warmth radiating off his frame, his spark pulsing within his chassis as you cuddled into his side.

He just stared at the starry sky, processor reeling. As he subconsciously wrapped an arm around you, allowing your helm to nestle in the crook of his shoulder.

“…Bee?...”

“Yeah?”

"Do I... have to go back?”

Bee's spark skipped a pulse. Whipping his head down towards you, his expression stunned. "W-What?"

You tucked yourself closer, voice barely above a whisper.“…Would it be… okay if I stayed?”

“You… You want to stay?” Slowly, he pulled back just enough to look at your optics, his servos lightly tracing circles over your back.

“…Only if you want me to.”

B-127’s features softened. "I’d really like that."

You smiled, tucking yourself more against his frame.

As your optics closed, allowing a soft sigh to escape you. Letting his warmth lull you into a peaceful recharge.

He didn’t need to understand why you had gravitated toward each other.

He didn’t need to question how you had become the most important thing in his life.

All he knew was. He never wanted to let you go.

[the-owl-tree]

changing skies predictions but im overdramatic and mean about them:

avos rehash of the ugh kids these days dont respect anything plotline but even worse, now with tawnypelt instead of her cringe husband

this will be the only allusion to avos. twigbranch and violetshine will sink deeper into background character hell. sorry avos protagonist enjoyers, the authors genuinely dont seem to gaf about them

the authors getting really mad that people like tigerheartstar so theyre going to make him an unreasonable antagonistic figure again.

probably squirrelstar too because she is now being subjected to the Leaders Curse

shadowsight is going to be alluded to but despite having such clear parallels to the main character he probably won't play a main part apart from someone calling him a dumb fuck for being manipulated

someone dies from being caught in the dynamite explosion that will hopefully blow up the moonpool forever. this cool death should go to some character that is old and that i like. however, i wish death upon those i dont like

leafstar going blind and it tying into her clan questioning her capacity to lead........is anyone else kind of bracing themselves for the worst here?

man. is this a tbc rehash but worse? guys tbc was great, you fixed the ashfur problem! you don't have anyone else to do that with unless you're about to do some bizarre retconning.

tbc but with moonpaw and uh mapleshade because we need fifty more mapleshade appearances before we even consider making another prominent female villain that doesn't die immediately

honestly. something really catholic is probably gonna happen considering how asc is going.

[badasmuse]

“Even The Sun Hides”

Bada Lee x Reader

Warnings: pure fluff, upset bada, lowercase intended

Summary: bada was having a bad day so you took care of her

Includes Eli.’s “even the sun hides”

hey.. bada’s been having a terrible day. she just got done crying please take care of her🩵

the text came in thirty minutes before she walked in the door.

“hi honey.” i whispered when she walked in. her eyes were red and swollen and her makeup was running down her cheeks.

“hi baby. what do you want for dinner?” she shrugs off her jacket and takes off her beanie.

“i’ll take care of that. how was your day?” i knew she wouldn’t tell me everything that happened.

“it was okay. we’re doing great.”

i lead her to the couch and stand behind her hand on her shoulders. lightly pressing on the knots there. she sighs and sniffles.

“what happened honey?”

bada starts silently sobbing. i walk around the couch and sit next to her pulling her into my chest. her sobs got louder and she grips onto my shirt.

i rub her hair and back soothingly letting her cry. i didn’t say a word holding her close waiting for her to feel comfortable enough to talk to me.

she then became silent. light sniffles left her and she looked up at me.

“i got makeup on your shirt.” she says hoarsely.

“oh honey that’s the least of my worries. do you want to talk?” i ask wiping her eyes.

“no thank you. not right now.”

i nod understandingly and stand up. “let’s get you in the tub. that could help you.”

she stands and follows me to the bathroom, leaning against the sink as i run the water. i add bubbles just for the fun of it.

“you can’t get in the tub fully dressed.” i say looking at her.

she pulls out of her head and looks at me. “what? oh right.. don’t look.”

i giggle and cover my eyes, “i’ve seen you naked before.”

“yeah but i don’t like when you watch me strip. it’s awkward.” i can hear the pout in her voice.

i hear her walk and step into the tub. i uncover my eyes and watch as she sinks in, long legs bent at the knees so her chest is covered by the bubbles.

“we need a bigger tub.” she mumbles.

i laugh and kneel next to her head, grabbing her favorite shampoo and massaging it into her scalp. her eyes flutter shut and she sighs.

i rinse her hair and add conditioner.

“are you hungry?” i ask.

“no i really just want to sleep.” she says quietly.

i hurry to finish her hair and leave the room so she can clean herself. i lay down the clean sheets and grab her clothes out of the dryer making sure they’re not too hot.

she comes out the bathroom in her towel and looks at me.

“get dressed i’ll be right back.” i run to the kitchen getting a bottle of water, she’s probably dehydrated from all the crying, and an orange. she’s gonna eat something.

when i go back, she’s sitting on her bed typing aggressively on her phone.

“uh uh.” i say snatching it from her hands. “eat this and drink some water. don’t even pick up that phone again.”

she pouts and nods peeling and eating the orange before laying down. i slide in next to her and she immediately cuddles into my chest.

“will you sing?” i knew it was coming.

i think for a little and settle on the song that usually helps her when she gets like this.

that’s just the way it goes, the highs the lows, nobody knows how you feel. even the sun hides, up in the the cloudy skies, we all have dark times, but we live good lives. it’s a good life.

after the short little vocalizing the song has, i look down at her and she’s fast asleep, fisting my shirt like i’ll run away.

my big baby.

[ramshacklerumble]

W-Woah! Didn’t expect to see you around here. Perfect timing, we’re about to cut the cake!

Groovification: [LOCKED]

Set to Home Screen: Uh…Do I look okay?

Home Transition 1: Should’ve known Lilia wouldn’t let me pass the dorm mirror without trying to scare the soul out of me first. The guy really knows how to make you feel alive.

Home Transition 2: Jorge and Hernando started the morning by squeaking up a storm. They were trying to sing to me, but between the two of us, I think I should get them some music lessons.

Home, after login: Hmm~ Hmm~ Hmm~ 🎵 Oh, haha. The Ramshackle Prefect invited me to listen to a musical from their homeworld on their magic gramophone. Cool, huh? I took a recording hoping Ortho might be able to clean up the audio.

Home Transition (Groovification): [LOCKED]

Tap Home 1: Check it out! Cater got me this awesome limited edition poster for one of my favorite films. I kept asking how he got it, but he just gets this sly look in his eye and won’t tell me.

Tap Home 2: Yeesh. Even on my birthday, Vil gave me a big ol’ chewing out over my hair, but then gave me a present. …It’s hair product.

Tap Home 3: People give Silver a wide berth because he looks so serious all the time, but he’s honestly a great guy. We’re planning on having a movie night, y-you’re welcome to join!

Tap Home 4: Dorms are forced to host birthday parties, so freshman year I felt kinda bad over these random dudes having to throw one for me. This year…it actually felt like they wanted to celebrate…heh heh.

Tap Home 5: A couple of freshmen asked how old I was turning and they looked so surprised. …Do I really look that old…?

Tap Home (Groovification): [LOCKED]

DUO MAGIC: Haha, let’s not to get too wild here, o-okay Floyd…? / C’mon, Flounder! How ‘bout we kick it up a notch?

big thank you to @moonyasnow for their bday boy background templates!

tag list:

@cyanide-latte @inmateofthemind @tixdixl @blithesharem @thehollowwriter @jovieinramshackle

@theleechyskrunkly @skriblee-ksk @boopshoops @the-trinket-witch @twistedwonderlandshenanigans @kimikitti

@felix-cant-ski @nightwingshero @water-writings @beneathsakurashade (dm to be added)

[ellieputellas]

give me a minute | part two of "if you’d have stuck around"

give me a minute, kiss me again, i'll say goodbye to cloudy blue skies i'd trade all i've got in my name for you instead of this pain — "give me a minute" by lizzy mcalpine

part one | part two | part three

🏷️: @simp4panos @moonystoes

The video went live, and it racked up views within hours. Comments poured in, with fans loving the new content and even new people from your own follower base growing interested in the content. You hadn’t expected it to take off so quickly, but the sudden popularity of the video felt satisfying. 

Soon, the video was the most viewed on your company's Youtube and TikTok. You wondered why it must have blown up; it felt like such generic fluff but a lot of people seemed to like it. 

The popularity of the video led to talks in your office of pursuing more sports content. You usually did pieces with celebrities, actors, influencers but maybe expanding to somewhat newer territories would be a great way to compete with other media companies.

Aside from discussing the popularity of the video, a bunch of your younger colleagues were smitten by Elisa. The effortless and nonchalant French vibe seemed to be all the rage with your officemates, much to your annoyance.

You were getting asked left and right about her by your younger co-workers. You tried not to seem annoyed as to not raise suspicion but frankly you were over it. You kinda liked it better when all the baby gays in your office were preoccupied with Emma D'arcy or Paige Bueckers. Hell, you preferred that shortlived era when everyone crushed on your girlfriend after she got a haircut. 

But no, instead, all anyone could talk was Elisa. Even your work friends groupchat was flooded with Tiktok links to edits of your ex-girlfriend. 

God, if you're real, you'd give us a new cute gay intern for these girls to focus on instead. You wished for it on more than one occasion over the past few days.

You were working on a new pitch when the bubbly intern Daisy peered over your cubicle with a cheeky grin on her face. "Y/N..." She said, extending your name in a cutesy manner. 

"Yes, Daisy?" You smiled but gave a cautious eyebrow raise at the younger girl. She had been one of the new staunch Elisa fanatics in your office, even trying to convince Casey to ask her dad to take everyone in the office to go watch the PSG friendlies match tomorrow. "This better be important."

She giggled and blushed. "You have a guest at the lobby."

You furrowed your eyebrows. "Is it a delivery?" You paused, thinking that it might be the magazine archives you requested for another thing you were working on. "You can just sign for that, y'know?"

She chuckled again. "No, no, I can't sign for it." She said before making a gesture for you to just come along.

You sighed and stood from your cubicle before following the intern. When you arrived at the lobby, you were met with the sight of the last person you wanted to see. 

"I told you I couldn't sign for it." Daisy commented.

"Oh," I said. 

Elisa stood up from the chairs in your office lobby. She gave you a weak smile before greeting you. "Hey."

You looked at her, clad in her team hoodie and joggers. She had a paper bag with her which you made notice of. You turned to Daisy who was basically as red as a tomato. You sighed.

You stepped towards Elisa. "Uh, what are you doing here?" You said in a hushed voice.

She blinked. She looked a tad nervous and awkward but you figured it might have been because Daisy had been very obviously gawking behind me.  

"I—I know this might be unexpected, but I wanted to drop by and thank you for the interview," she said, extending the gift. "The team…loved it."

You thanked her curtly, hesitantly getting the gift from her. "Do you... wanna talk somewhere more private? In the conference room, maybe?" You asked.

She nodded. You led the way inside your office. Elisa gave a friendly greeting to the intern who looked like she was going to burst in just a moment. You finally made your way to one of the vacant meeting rooms.

You shut the door behind you and the privacy curtains, knowing fully well that your co-workers would very indiscreetly pass multiple times just  to catch a glance of the new office crush.

You two stood awkwardly before you finally gestured for her to sit. She paused before sitting on the chair adjacent to you. 

You glanced down at the paper bag, only catching a glance of what looked like a jersey. "Elisa... why are you here?" It sounded more exasperated and hostile than you intended.

"I already told you." She answered, defensively. "The team's social media engagement blew up after the video and now all the tickets to our friendlies are sold out. The team just wanted to thank you."

You sighed. "I don't think I can take credit for that. Someone else conceptualized that video." You responded, shaking your head. "Besides, why just me? Gina took care of the production. Hell, Casey did even more than I did. All I did was read out a script written by some other person."

Elisa furrowed her eyebrows together, looking confused. "I don't know, okay? You were the one they remembered so you're the one being thanked. Is that so bad?" Her voice raised with annoyance. "God, can't you just say thanks."

You took a deep breath. Suddenly, you were teleported back to the time that you were always arguing like this — raised voices, misunderstanding, hostile tones.

"I'm sorry, I just thought you'd appreciate it." Her voice was more calm.

You nodded. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry. Thank your teammates for thinking about me." You responded, just wanting to avoid another argument. "What is it anyway?"

Elisa shrugged and her facial expression softened. "Why don't you look?" Her tone had a slight amusement to it. You looked at her and she had a small smile. "I thought of what to get you. Jackie wanted to get you flowers but uh, I think... I know you well enough and you might want this more."

You ignored what she had just said, not wanting to read into it. You lifted up the jersey. It was the Paris Saint-Germain away kit. You hummed. "Thanks?"

She chuckled at your reaction. "Turn it around." She rolled her eyes playfully. "You're so quick to react negatively."

Your eyes widened as you turned it around with your last name on the back and your old number from when you used to play — a five. A wave of nostalgia hit you.

"What?" Your voice was soft as you blinked at the sight of it.

Elisa scooted closer to you. "I had our staff get it done this morning and uh... I know that five is my number now," She started. "But it was yours before it was mine."

She put a careful hand on your knee. "I'm just giving it back to you... if you'd want it." 

Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked at the list of the new numbers assigned to each player at your summer camp. "Huh, why am I not five anymore?" You asked yourself in English. "Because I'm five now." A voice behind you said. You turned around to see a taller brunette girl with short hair, wearing a baggy jersey. "You got a new number because five is mine." You scoffed at the girl with a strong French accent. "I was here since last summer? I should have first dibs." You argued, thinking it must have been a mistake. She stepped closer to you, intimidating you with her height. "Well, obviously, I'm a better player so coach gave me first dibs." She smirked. "But I'll give it back to you under one condition."

"What?" You spat out. The smirk grew on the girl's face. "Date me." "No chance."  "Tough luck," She chuckled. "Guess you're stuck with... fifteen? What a shit number."

“Huh.” You murmured, remembering the memory. "Took you long enough to give it back to me."

"Yeah, yeah, to be fair, I wanted to give it back to you when we uh... started dating." She chuckled awkwardly. "But uh, you were done with football then so I might as well keep it."

You couldn't pinpoint what you were feeling at that moment. It was overwhelming — the memories, her proximity to you, her intoxicating scent filling the room, her hand on your knee.

She must have noticed that you were frozen in thought again. She took her hand away from you. "I see you like to overthink still." She joked.

You feigned a chuckle as you put the jersey on your lap, feeling the fabric with your fingers awkwardly.

Elisa, who’d been watching your reaction, cleared her throat. “There’s, uh… something else from me too,” she added, a little nervous. "In the bottom of the bag."

You just looked at her. She gave you a small smile before taking the paper bag from the table and sticking her hand in. She reached into something small — small enough to fit in her palm without you seeing what it was. 

Elisa pulled out a small, battered keychain — a football charm with a lucky four leaf clover on it. The steel was scuffed and dirty but it looked almost like it did years ago.

"Just another thing I want to give back to you," Elisa said. She dangled it in front for you to take. You stuck your hand out and let her place it gently on your palm. Your eyebrows furrowed.

"Elisa," You called out to the French girl after a winning scrimmage. You had scored a goal in that game and were an essential part of the defense line.  On the other hand, Elisa was subbed off early in the game after making a few crucial mistakes. It left her pissed off and moody so much so that even when your team won, she didn't bother to huddle with your team and celebrate. "You fucking bad sport," You commented before giving her a punch on the shoulder. "You think you could just bail without congratulating me for being the player of the match?" She didn't seem amused by your teasing. "Cool it, fifteen. It was a scrimmage." She warned, using the nickname she gave you. "Besides, I'm not in the mood." Your rolled your eyes at her immaturity. "Are you seriously not happy for me, huh?" She took a deep breath. Her eyes which had been previously dodging your gaze finally met yours.  "Fine, you did really well." She acquiesced. "I'm just jealous actually. I didn't have my head in the game, you know? Not even for the past few marches. But you're doing... really good. I loved watching you play. You're getting even better than I am." She pinched your cheek playfully and you swatted her arm away with a chuckle. You hummed as you batted your eyelashes at her. "You really have a crush on me, De Almeida." Her smile grew. "I used to... but not after I learned how cocky and arrogant you are."  You rolled your eyes. "Y'know what, I think I played really good cause of what I got at the supermarket this morning." You chuckled before swinging your backpack to your front, struggling to unhook the football keychain you got. "They had some promotional event where you could win a trip to Barcelona, a signed jersey, an umbrella, all that. But, I won this. The cashier said it was a lucky charm." You showed her the steel keychain. "It's not a weekend off to Spain but hey, it really must be lucky." You chuckled. You looked at Elisa and noticed that she had a soft gaze fixed on you with a slight smile. Her brown eyes seemed even lighter as she looked at you. You furrowed your eyebrows. "What?" She rolled her eyes. "You're such a gullible idiot." She teased as she touched your keychain. "This is just a corny keychain from the supermarket." You playfully pushed her again, making her laugh. She bit her lip, still looking amused at you. "Don't be mean." You told her off. "But if you feel that way, then so be it. I was supposed to give it to you but since you're such an ass..." Her eyes widened in instant regret. "No, no, I want it." She reached for the keychain but you swung your arm behind you so she wouldn't catch it. She grappled with you for the keychain, desperately trying to get it from you. In the process, her hand found its way to the small of your back, holding you in place to prevent you from further squirming. You paused and felt shocked at the sudden touch and proximity, causing you to lose focus on keeping the keychain away from Elisa. "Aha!" She exclaimed as she grabbed the keychain from you. "Now, I'm the lucky one." You sighed. "Okay, fine, you need it more anyway." You teased, under your breath. You expected a retort from the French girl but instead, you two fell silent and Elisa still had her hand on your back. You looked up at the girl. "What?" Her brown eyes were soft and they flickered from your eyes to your lips. "Don't worry, fifteen." She said in a hushed voice. "I'll trade you something for it." "It better be worth it cause that keychain is priceless." You said teasingly. "I hope you think it is," She said nervously before slowly leaning into you. You could see her hesitating, pausing a bit to gauge your reaction. You stayed steady and fluttered your eyes close as she finally closed the gap, capturing your lips in a kiss. 

Your fingers stilled as you stared at it. You were at a disbelief as to why Elisa even kept such a cheap keychain. You touched the chain part, noticing that it was noticeably newer and made of a different metal. 

Elisa must have noticed. "I had to get the chain changed at a jeweler this morning." She clarified. "It's gotten pretty flimsy over the years and it broke before I came here."

You stayed silent. She tried to lighten the mood by telling you how it broke. "It's funny actually... Before I came here, my car had some issues so I naturally had to take the taxi and my driver was so, so talkative. I really didn't care until he started talking about football."

"He started talking shit about the PSG men's team, which I found funny." She chuckled, pausing to look at you for a reaction. "Anyway, when he dropped me off at the airport and helped with my bags, he noticed I was wearing a PSG jacket and my bag tag had the PSG logo."

You looked at her, waiting for her to finish her story. "So, he carefully asks me if I was a fan, looking regretful at what he said and I said 'non... je suis l'un des joueurs.'" (No, I'm one of the players.)

You gave her a soft chuckle. She was beaming as she continued the story. "I just watched him look like this," She paused to make a shocked face with her jaw open and eyes wide. "And then he said... 'désolé, monsieur, je n'aurais pas deviné... je pensais que vous étiez une fille.'" (Sorry, sir. I thought you were a girl.)

You shook your head and chuckled. "So he thought you were part of the men's team."

She nodded, looking amused. "Yeah, supposedly." She sighed. "But anyway, as he was driving away, I noticed that the football charm on the keychain was gone. It was just the round part and the flimsy chain. So, I panicked."

"I feel like it was such a dumbass move to do in the airport but I left my luggage there at the drop-off to chase after the taxi," She said with a big smile on her face, recalling the incident. "It was like I was in a TV show running after a taxi and shouting but anyway, after probably four minutes of sprinting, I caught up to the taxi and rummaged the backseat and found the keychain lodged somewhere between the cushions."

She shook her head at the memory. "I thanked the taxi man and he looked incredibly annoyed, making him stop in the middle of a busy road. He started calling me crazy and he pointed at me and shouted 'Tu n'es pas PSG; tu es une fille!'" (You are not PSG; you are a girl!)

She laughed at her own story and you gave a weak smile. You started piecing her story together, recalling the shoot you had the other day with the other PSG girls. "So... you were late to the airport?" You clarified.

She nodded. "Yeah, my manager got so pissed at me for it too."

You exhaled, pausing for a moment. "I thought it was because you left your passport." You looked up at her.

Elisa realized her slip-up and shrugged. "I couldn't tell them I was late because I chased after a taxi over a keychain." 

Suddenly, you two fell silent again. You looked at the scuffed keychain once more. It was so worn down and dated. You couldn't understand why Elisa would keep it after all of these years. 

"When I gave you this keychain, you called me a gullible idiot for thinking it was a lucky charm." You recalled and gave a small chuckle. "Yet you kept it..."

Elisa ran a hand through her hair, realizing she had revealed more than she wanted to. "Well, I had it in my first game with PSG and we won. The times I forgot it at home, we lost miserably. I don't know. It's silly but yeah... I kept it."

You hummed and nodded. "You do know I didn't actually believe it was lucky back then..." You clarified. "I only said it to make you feel better about being benched."

She nodded. "I know." She sighed. "But the lucky aspect.... it's not the only reason why I kept it."

Again, there awkward and heavy energy filled the air. You ran your thumb through the metal, feeling the texture of the keychain against your  finger. You didn't know what to say. You didn't even know what to think. 

You knew what Elisa was trying to say but it was hard for you to make sense of it. She never made an effort to contact you after you broke up. You two haven't seen each other in years... yet here she was practically digging up the bones of your relationship which you have worked so hard to bury. 

Elisa was the first to break the tension. She put her hand over yours, gently running her thumb against your skin in the same way you were touching the keychain just now. You avoided looking at her but you could tell thay her brown eyes were fixed on you.

"I'm sorry..." She started with an almost undetectable shake in her voice. "I'm sorry I never reached out to you. I'm sorry that I'm bringing it all up now. And, I'm sorry... for what happened to us."

Your gaze stayed fixed on the table, afraid of what might transpire if you had looked at her face.

"I just..." She paused. "Je pense à toi tout le temps....et je regrette tout." (I think about you a lot still... and I regret everything.)

Your heart was beating fast and you've grown increasingly emotional. You just didn't know which emotions were there as they had tangled with each other inside of you. Elisa was still brushing her thumb against your hand and it felt like too much at the moment. It felt... wrong.

"It's been five years," You didn't know why you said it. You felt like the words just slipped right out of your mouth.

Elisa nodded. "Yeah, I shouldn't have let it take this long." She muttered under her breath. "I just had no way of telling if there'd be another chance for us and every day that passed just made it feel more and more impossible... but then I saw you. It just felt like a sign, you know."

You finally had it in you to look up at her. You nearly gave in when you saw her with her beautiful face and those warm eyes on you. But you shook your head. 

"You don't know me anymore," You said softly, trying to keep composure. "And, I don't know you."

Elisa sighed deeply but you could tell she understood what you meant. You were no longer young, in college, and sharing a small dorm with tiny, pushed-together single beds.

She was a full-blown football superstar and you were this writer with an established life here. Sure, a lot of your tiny quirks and habits stayed the same but you could just tell that time has changed you two so much.

"I know, and it's better now." She said, leaving you confused. "We got what we always wanted in our lives and now, we can... give us a chance."

You let our a sarcastic chuckle. 

"It sounds corny, I know." She rolled her eyes at her own statement. "But I mean it... why else would we have met again this way?"

Silence befell the two of you for the nth time. It just was too much for you to process quickly. You were suddenly forced back into the same situation you were years ago.

"Elisa... where do you see yourself in five years?" You repeated the same question you asked exactly five years ago. The very question you asked that caused you two to fall apart.

You looked up and her face just fell. It was her turn to be speechless. You let out another dry chuckle as you quickly wiped off your moist eyes. 

"Five years ago, you said you'd be in a major club and playing the Olympics and travelling the world." You reminded her. "And you got everything you asked for."

You paused and cleared your throat to avoid your voice from cracking. "I wasn't part of your dreams five years ago..." You nodded. "And for the past five years, I worked on accepting that."

She looked at you with pleading eyes but she stayed silent. You sighed shakily. "You don't get to undo the past five years just like that."

A part of you felt broken; you felt like you were still that same girl five years ago crying over never being a priority to her girlfriend. If past you knew about what you chose to say now, she'd be ripping her hair out.

Surely, you'd prefer it, right? Your dream job with your dream girl who also achieved all her dreams. A chance to be together and still have it all. It seemed like the ideal scenario.

But it wasn't that simple.

You made peace with your break-up. You built this life that you had now brick-by-brick. Sure, you got a bit lucky with getting a girlfriend who was basically a media nepo baby. But you still worked your ass off to get everything you wanted. There was still so much more for you to do... and you just knew you couldn't do that if you were with Elisa.

"What am I supposed to do, Elisa?" You asked. "Quit my job? Leave my girlfriend? Abandon my life, my friends, my family and go back to Paris so I can be your football WAG?"

She looked annoyed. "I'm not asking you to do all that. I just... want another chance, okay?" 

"Did you even think this through? What would you do if I agreed to give you a chance?" Your voice started to get louder. "I'll just go end things with my girlfriend — whose dad, by the way, is my boss — and just date you? What if you realized I'm not the same as I was before? Then, I would have lost everything while you still get to keep being PSG's star defender, Elisa de Almeida."

Elisa grew frustrated but you knew her words were making sense to her. "I didn't think it would be so offensive to tell you that I still care about you after all these years." She raised her voice. "You're acting like I'm wrong because I still love you."

You were shocked but you tried not to show that you were taken aback by her declaration. Elisa sighed and ran a hand through her hair. "There... I still love you." She repeated it. "I just wanted to remind you that a long time ago, you loved me too."

You looked at the keychain and the jersey and felt your heart twist in pain. Part of you loved hearing Elisa say that she still loved you after all these years but the logical, more mature side of you knew that she was being selfish, naive, and immature. She may have changed a lot career-wise but she was still the same selfish and immature Elisa she was five years ago.

You took a deep sigh, feeling a bit shaken up. You avoided looking at Elisa. "I think you should leave."

Elisa said your name and tried to reach out to you to touch your hand again but you shook your head. "Please just leave."

Elisa paused. From your peripheral vision, you could see her contemplating. You knew that as much as she wanted to stay and convince you, she had a game in San Diego to attend to.

For a second, you thought she'd ditch the game — some desperate attempt to beg for you back. If that happened, you wondered if you would have given her a chance. After all, that would have shown you that she was finally prioritizing your relationship (or in this case, a shot at a relationship again) — something she never did when you were together. You were certain that you wouldn't have given in that easily... but deep inside, you knew it would have changed a lot of things. 

But you weren't given that dilemma. 

Elisa stood up. She paused to take a breath before leaving you in that meeting room alone. You didn't bother to lift your head when she left. You just let your head hang low and let the tears fall.

a/n: i didn't proofread so pls lmk if there are any mistakes! i write pretty quick but the last chapter might take longer! hopefully, i can finish by this weekend hehe lmk if u wanna be added to tags