#i couldn’t stop thinking of them and this song

[hello-sweetheart]

You know that trope where Person A thinks Person B is just being nice but they’re actually flirting. What about the opposite? Person A misreading their behavior and being the only one falling impossibly in love.

Clumsy in Love part 4

Eddie rubs his hands over his face and presses the heels of his palm into his eyes.

Im such a piece of shit. God, how could I just do that.

He’s pissed at Steve for not saying something sooner, for waiting until Eddie had something good in his grasp. But he’s angry with himself too.

How stupid is he, really? Did he really not notice until it all came face to face?

He has Adiel’s number memorized, but he knows which of Steve’s beauty marks form constellations.

Mostly, hes confused. His feelings are a jumbled mess and he’s never been good at sorting them out. Naturally, he turns to music. Dio has serenaded him these past few days. Wayne has steered clear of his shit show.

How do you feel right now?

What do you see?

Where would you be right now?

Hey angel what about me?

Jesus fucking fuck. He attempts to run his hand through his hair only it doesn’t get too far, rings snagged in his tangled hair. He can feel the oil built up on the strands and knows it’s time to get his ass out of bed. He doesn’t.

“Angel, Angel, angel. You were my angel. Just not anymore.” He mutters to himself long after the track has finished and another song plays. He’s learning to let go still, even after he’s ended it.

You know what really makes him feel like a dickhead? That Adiel got hurt because of him. He didn’t deserve to get caught in Eddie’s bullshit.

Guilt eats him alive.

His conscious hurts and his heart trembles, tumbled in his chest, but he doesn’t feel the heartbreak the way he should. That world-on-fire and breath burning feeling. He can’t find it.

Like a masochist he wants for it, desires it, deserves it like sinner.

Those last few weeks were enough for his feelings to settle, for his heart to make a decision with or without his input. He tried—god fuck I tried—to feel that skipped-beat flutter when Adiel smiled his way. Could almost convince himself he could. That Adiel’s interlocked hand in his still felt an extension of himself instead of something foreign.

It used to feel like I belonged at his side. Why did it have to stop?

He’s wronged a friend who trusted him to keep his heart safe. A friend who had already been through so much. And Eddie added to that lifetime of hurt because he couldn’t figure it out himself.

Because he was too stupid to see and too stupid to know.

He thinks of Steve’s lips, like he has now for days. Weeks. His heart twists, rung out. That skipped-beat flutter that betrays him.

Fuck. Fuck, man.

He has to stop yanking at his hair like he can train himself out of feeling it.

Do your demons, do they ever let you go?

When you've tried, do they hide, deep inside

Is it someone that you know?

You're just a picture, you're an image caught in time

We're a lie, you and I.

“I’m so fucking sorry,” he tells no one because he needs to say it until he can forgive himself a little. Until he can make himself believe that Adiel will forgive him, in time.

“I’m so sorry,” this time says it to himself, covers his face with his hands and finally cries.

Against his fucking will he cries, can’t hold onto it anymore. Ugly retching sobs that can only come from mourning an almost.

Finally, after days of like solitude, Wayne creeps in un-intrusive as a shadow. His hand on his shoulder may be the only thing that keeps Eddie from disappearing.

“I could’ve loved him, Wayne. I could’ve—I did. I think I fucking loved him and I didn’t know until—until I didn’t anymore. And then—and then I just couldn’t again.”

I wish he got to know that. That even for a short time, I had loved him.

Wayne, ever a man of few words, sits with him and lets him have his silence.

———

It’s a little over a month after that that Steve pays him a visit.

He’s smart enough to show up when Wayne isn’t home, looking sheepish as he shuffles on his front step. At least he has the gall to look him in the eyes.

All this is because of you, he thinks. His dark under eyes, his pallid skin. The rage in his blood. The almost that he had.

“Why are you here?” He looks taken aback, almost shrinks in on himself.

“I… the boys said that you, well.” Steve rubs the back of his neck, his hair longer than when Eddie last saw it. It slips through Steve’s fingers. “You never came by again and I wanted to see you. To talk? Can we talk? Can’t… can’t I come in?”

Having Steve in his home, in his space, is dangerous.

Those eyes are deep, soften by tired shadows.

“No,” his swallow is audible and steels himself, “Why should I want you in my home, Steve?”

Steve stands there lips parted and hands clenches at the bottom of his sweatshirt, eyes shined over. Eddie takes the chance to step forward. Everything inside him is too much.

“Don’t you understand what you did? I was happy. And you, fuck, you ruined it! Steve! You!” He out of the door way now and Steve steps back, back, back.

Steve’s face is red in shame. Eddie’s in anger. His pointed finger jabbed at his chest, accusing.

“You couldn’t just let me be happy? Why? Why did you kiss me, Steve? Why then? Was it because you couldn’t stand that I finally had someone? Say something!”

Steves eyes overflow, “Yes! I could stand it because I love you, asshole! I thought, I don’t know—I thought you loved me, too. Okay? Me. We both felt it—tell me you felt it too, Eddie? It wasn’t just me, right?

“You were everywhere and everything. You’d smile at me and it was the sun. So close, always right there and it was like we were—we were teetering on the edge of something amazing. And I was so happy, Eddie. So happy that day ‘cuz I thought, it was just us, right? Me and you. Just us. Together.

“But then you saw him and your weren’t even listening to me. You didn’t hear a word I said, did you? You only had eyes for him. You left me there and I didn’t know what to do with myself ‘cuz suddenly all you’d talk about was him. Every day and every minute we were together. After thinking, after thinking you loved me too.

That I had you.

So yes! Okay? I kissed you because I was selfish and I needed to know. I needed to know if any of it was real. If there really was nothing there.”

Steve’s breathing hard by the end of, words a wavering wet string of rawn vulnerable pulled out of his chest. He’s looking at the floor, hair covering his eyes, and shoulders trembling as he hiccups.

Then, everything feels still. Calm inside. For the first time in ages, Eddie feels like he can take a deep breath and not fall apart. He closes his eyes for a second and just breathes. The fight escapes him with the last breath.

“You ruined me, Steve. You ruined me in a way that even I didn’t understand. I didn’t know, not until that night, about how you felt. And I’m sorry if it was my fault, if I did and said things to make you feel that way, okay? But I didn’t… I didn’t feel that way about you. Not then. Not when you kissed me.”

“And now? Eddie? Do you… could you feel that way for me, now?”

“If it weren’t for you,” he begins, “Adiel and I… we could’ve had something great. But then you—and I— I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I wondered so much on why you kissed me that night, replaying every moment together, to see what you saw. And ended up feeling… feeling what you felt.”

He takes the chance to move forward the last bit of space to reach to him, have him look him in the eyes. Both of them mirror images of despair.

“You ruined me, Stevie. Everything was different. It wasn’t perfect anymore, I couldn’t make it perfect again. And I couldn’t be who I had been with Adiel knowing that I couldn’t find in me what we had before. That maybe, this has the chance of being something amazing, too.

I stopped seeing you everyday, so I saw you in everything. I stopped speaking to you, and you became the voice inside my head. It was maddening.”

Eddie laughs and wipes away the tears from Steve’s eyes, they fall faster when he smiles a weak and small but real thing.

“Adiel and I, we fit together; we were good together. But despite that, I didn’t want him anymore. I didn’t know why, I think I still don’t, but… I don’t need to know. I just need feel it, Stevie. And I feel it. I want this. Me and you. You have throughly ruined me, for anybody else.”

This time the kiss is different. It’s shared elation, wet and salty on the tongue, and clumsy as they try to fit into each other. Disappear in one another.

“Are you still mad?”

Those brown eyes don’t resemble gems of green, but they’re filled with incredible warmth and Eddie sees home in them,

Sees a life with them,

It’s own kind of precious.

And he laughs.

“So much, Stevie. I’m mad and heartbroken and falling jn love and happy and so so sure of us. I think, I think I still need some time, I’m really fucked—no, no, shouldn’t cry anymore,” he says as Steve’s face scrunches and it’s so unbelievably cute if he wasn’t blaming himself for it all.

“I just want to make sure I do this right this time. And if I, if I invite you in… I won’t be able to.”

Steve rests his forehead against his, there is heat between them, “But I have you, right?”

“Yeah, took me a while to figure it out but… yeah. Yes. You have me, Steve. God, and I have you. And tomorrow, tomorrow you’re going to come over and pick me up at 6 in the evening so we can eat shitty pancakes at the diner.

And then we’ll figure this out together.”

Part 3 <💛 End, thank you for reading and for all the feedback!

[rezwrites]

Hey, can you write something for Agatha Harkness? I love her. Yandere/Dark! Agatha Harkness x reader, reader is summoned to be part of Agatha's coven and Agatha grows obsessed with reader after becoming her friend and feeling a connection. Thank you 🩷

Of course, also I’m very sorry that this took so long!

a/n: slight au where the road is real/Rio has no presence.

Agatha and Teen had approached you asking for your assistance in walking The Road. Laughing in their face at the absurdity, “The Road is a myth.”

Even if it wasn’t, it was a death trap. Many stories from your mother and her coven about The Road have passed your ears. Every witch, with the exemption of Agatha Harkness, lost their lives trying the reach the end. You’ve felt inadequate as a witch, unable to resonate with a coven of your own. Even though you’d love to have that sister and companionships you’ve done well enough without them.

Teen droned on as you walked away from them. Only stopping in your tracks when Agatha chimed in talking about forming her own coven. A lesson drilled into your brain since the day you were born resounded within: Agatha Harkness is not to be trusted. Turning around you regarded them both, warily. Awkwardly handing you a card Teen expressed that he’d hope to see you there.

Contemplation weighed heavy on your mind the rest of the day. The possibility of finding a coven was tantalizingly, but you’d have to suffer through the proximity of Agatha and the other witches she convened. Deciding the end outweighs everything else you make your way to Agatha’s house in Westview.

Agatha kept a close focus on you the moment you made your presence known in her home. Her eye constantly shifting to you as you sung your part of The Ballad. You’re voice is beautiful she thought, like a bird singing its morning song.

After pairing with Agatha in the first trial you notice Agatha gradually getting close to you. Thankful that you had her as an anchor in your hallucination, you doing that same for her. Taking the opportunities to know more about you, realizing she’s slow to open up about herself. Rightfully so, since much of the air is still tense with distrust around her. She seemed genuine when she asked about you, making small gestures to be sure your safe- keeping you close to her, guiding your steps so you don’t trip. Her hands softly brushing over you from time to time.

After losing Alice, your distrust cemented again. Insisting that she couldn’t control it, you strayed away from her. Agatha lets you go, not without keeping close eye on you. Watching you gravitate towards Lilia, Agatha internally seethes.

Lilia’s words of wisdom and talks about her travels brought you solace. It was a devastating experience to see Lilia close the Iron Maiden, locking herself in the trial room. Screaming her name, pounding on the door the tears rushed down your face. Agatha had to drag you away and calm you down, Teen staying behind to comfort Jen.

“Lilia, no. How could she?” You could help but sob at the loss of her. Falling to your knees, your face in your hands.

“There’s nothing we could’ve done.” Agatha rests her hand in your shoulder, lightly squeezing it. Wiping your tears, you stood up brushing yourself off.

“Stay with me. I want- no need you by my side.” Agatha’s voice firmed, “You need someone to take care of you.”

“No I don’t. You think I’m weak don’t you?” Your face twists in irritation.

“That’s not what I’m saying.” Her fists clenching and unclenching.

“Then what exactly are you saying, Agatha?” You exasperated, throwing your hands up.

“In certain situations I can protect you. That’s all I want to do, darling.” She reached out to you, retracting her hands when you stepped away.

“I can protect myself. We’re almost at the end.” You walk back to gather Jen and teen, leaving Agatha alone.

Slipping into your shoes everything goes black until slit of light appears, revealing Agatha pulling you out of a body bag, “It’s alright dear. It’s just the last trial.” Observing Jen unbind herself and Teen find a body for his brother, your hope shrunk as they disappeared from the trial room.

You remained silent as Agatha grieved, planting something in the ground. You rested beside her as she cried, rubbing circles on her back. Humming a small tune you watched the lights go out by the second; attempting to make peace that this might be the end.

Agatha’s gasp caused you to look down where you saw a dandelion growing from the soil. As the ceiling started crashing down Agatha pulled you up from the floor, guiding you to the door. Coming out of the trial room you both find yourselves in Agatha’s backyard, Teen and Jen waiting for you both. Teen offered Agatha some of his power only is she doesn’t take all of it.

Watching Jen and Teen leave, you stared in thought. The Road was a waste. You didn’t find your coven, the one that Agatha conjured up dropped like flies. Back to square one with a heavy heart in your chest. A soft grip on your wrist pulled you out your bleak thoughts, but you didn’t face her.

“You think The Road didn’t give you what you needed, but it did. You’re just too stubborn to see it. The companionship you crave so much, you don’t a coven… you just need me.” Agatha’s pupils turned purple as your mind grew hazy, struggling for clarity.

“Shh…don’t fight it, darling. I’ve got you.” Agatha’s honeyed voice rang through vividly. Holding you tight against her chest, Agatha pressed her fingers closer to your temple, “I failed to protect someone once, I won’t let the same happen to you.”

[hoe4hotchner]

hi! could I request singer reader dating Aaron and the BAU doesn't KNOW but founds out after she drops her album/song about him (I'm thinking juno, bed chem by Sabrina etc).

Valkyrie | [A.H]

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x singer fem!reader | WC: 0.9k | CW: No use of Y/N, but reader's stage name is Valkyrie in this, Fluff, relationship

The team had scattered across the bullpen, taking a rare break between interviews and paperwork. Penelope, however, was anything but quiet. She was vibrating with excitement as she stormed into the room, tablet in hand and an undeniable spark in her eyes.

“Okay, stop everything you’re doing,” she announced dramatically, catching everyone’s attention. “Have you heard this new album?”

Emily, sitting at her desk, glanced up with a smirk. “What album?”

She held up her tablet like it was a piece of holy scripture. “Valkyrie’s new album just dropped. I’m telling you, it is life-changing, soul-touching, cry-your-eyes-out amazing.”

You were Valkyrie - the pop sensation who had taken the world by storm over the last couple of months. Known for your breathtaking voice, and your way of writing lyrics that felt personal even to the audience, like you were pulling the words straight from your soul. What the team didn’t know was that Valkyrie, the woman with chart-topping hits, was Hotch’s girlfriend - and the subject of your latest songs? Well, that was him.

"Valkyrie? Isn’t she that singer you’ve been obsessed over lately?" Derek asked, teasing.

“First of all, it’s not an obsession; it’s an appreciation of an amazing artist. And second,” Garcia held her finger up for dramatic effect, “her new album, Into You, is… well, I’m not saying it’s about someone in her life, but these lyrics, guys… they’re personal.”

Spencer, ever the analyst, raised an eyebrow. “What makes you think it’s about someone specific?”

“Oh, Spence,” Garcia sighed dramatically, tapping her tablet to pull up the lyrics. “Just listen to this - ‘Your steady presence holds me still when the world spins too fast. In your arms, I finally find my way home.’ Does that not sound like she’s writing about someone she loves?”

JJ tilted her head, intrigued. “It does sound pretty intimate.”

Derek grinned. “Sounds like someone’s in love.”

Emily leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. “I wonder who it’s about.”

Meanwhile, Hotch had been quietly observing the conversation from his office, a small, secretive smile playing on his lips. The lyrics they were quoting were all too familiar to him. He’d heard them months ago when Valkyrie - well, you - had played the demo for him late one night, curled up together in his living room. You’d been nervous, watching him for a reaction as your voice filled the room. But there had been nothing but pride in his chest, knowing how deeply you felt for him.

"Hotch!" Derek’s voice called as he stepped out of his office. “You ever listen to this stuff?”

Hotch looked up, his calm mask firmly in place. “Occasionally.”

“Occasionally?” Garcia gasped, horrified at his indifference. “Aaron Hotchner, how can you be so nonchalant about THE Valkyrie?”

He merely raised an eyebrow, his expression neutral. “I’m aware of her work.”

Spencer, still analyzing, added, “There’s been a lot of speculation about who her songs are about. She’s private, so no one really knows who she’s dating.”

Derek chuckled. “She’s probably dating some regular guy, someone outside the spotlight.”

At that, Hotch couldn’t help but suppress a grin. He supposed, in a way, he was that regular guy - well, as regular as the head of the BAU could be.

Just then, Garcia pressed play on the song, and your voice flowed through the speakers, soft and intimate. It was the song you’d written just for him, though no one else knew that. The one that talked about finding calm in the chaos, about love that was steady and unwavering.

JJ’s brow furrowed as she listened closely, some of the lyrics sounding a little too familiar, her eyes drifting toward Hotch, catching the subtle change in his expression. “Wait… Hotch, you wouldn’t happen to know something about this, would you?”

The team went quiet as all eyes turned to him. Hotch met JJ’s gaze, his lips twitching into the faintest smile. He debated for a moment how much he should reveal. You had both agreed to keep things quiet after all, your lives were public enough without everyone knowing about your relationship. But as he looked at his team, he realized it was time.

“I do,” Hotch finally said, his voice steady.

Garcia’s eyes went wide, her tablet nearly slipping from her hands. “WAIT… WHAT?”

Derek blinked in disbelief. “No way.”

“You and Valkyrie?” Emily asked her tone somewhere between astonishment and amusement.

Hotch’s small smile grew a little. “We’ve been together for a while now.”

The bullpen exploded into noise - questions, laughter, disbelief. Garcia was beside herself. “YOU’VE BEEN DATING VALKYRIE AND DIDN’T TELL US?”

Hotch shrugged slightly. “It wasn’t relevant to the job.”

Emily shook her head, grinning. “I can’t believe you kept this a secret.”

“Believe it,” Hotch replied, his tone light but still full of pride.

Penelope, still in shock, glanced at the tablet, then back at Hotch. “That song - this whole album - it’s about you, isn’t it?”

Hotch didn’t need to answer, but the look in his eyes was enough confirmation. Spencer, still processing, muttered, “Well, that certainly explains the lyrics.”

As the team bombarded him with questions, Hotch’s mind wandered back to you. Despite the craziness of your life in the public eye and his demanding career, you had found something rare and beautiful together. And now, it seemed, the secret was out - but somehow, he didn’t mind.

[lvmoure]

Jump Then Fall part 3 CS55

Pairings: Carlos Sainz x childhoodbff!reader

Summary: In which your love is really worth waiting for.

Warnings: none, pure fluff

Part 1 part 2

You couldn't help but smile as you looked around the beautifully decorated hall. Fairy lights draped from the ceiling, casting a warm glow over the room, and fresh flowers filled the air with a delicate fragrance. Your friends Clara and Rafael were finally getting married, and the love between them was almost tangible. It was a picture-perfect day, and everyone was celebrating, caught up in the magic of the moment.

Beside you, Carlos adjusted his tie, looking a little uncomfortable in his suit. You chuckled as you nudged him playfully. "Stop fidgeting! You look great."

He grinned, his eyes twinkling with that familiar mischievous spark. "I'm not used to wearing this many layers. I'd rather be in racing gear."

"Well, sorry to tell you, but I think you pull off a suit pretty well."

Carlos’s face softened, and he held your gaze a moment longer than usual. "You don’t look so bad yourself." His tone was light, but there was something else there—something that made your cheeks flush.

You laughed it off, but you couldn’t deny the warmth that spread through you. Being with Carlos was easy, natural, but recently you’d felt a change in the air between you. Moments like these, when he looked at you with that unreadable expression, made your heart flutter, making you wonder if maybe, just maybe, he felt the same way you did.

As the ceremony began, you found yourself watching the bride and groom, taking in the way they looked at each other. There was something so pure, so raw in their expressions—a kind of love that didn’t need words. You stole a glance at Carlos, and your breath caught in your throat. He was watching the couple too, but as if sensing your gaze, he looked over at you and gave you a soft, almost shy smile.

Carlos couldn’t help but feel a pang of something he didn’t quite understand as he watched Clara and Rafael exchange vows. The way they looked at each other, like there was no one else in the world, made him wonder if he’d ever find someone who made him feel like that.

But then his gaze shifted to you, standing beside him, your eyes fixed on the couple. You looked radiant, with a soft smile playing on your lips, your eyes shining in the candlelight. He felt his heart skip a beat, and for a moment, he imagined what it might be like to stand beside you at an altar someday, exchanging vows of your own.

He quickly shook off the thought, feeling foolish. You were his best friend—had been for as long as he could remember. But recently, he couldn’t ignore the way his heart raced around you, the way he found himself wanting to be closer to you, to hold your hand, to tell you things he’d kept buried for so long.

As the ceremony came to an end, he leaned over and whispered, "They look happy, don’t they?"

You nodded, looking at him with that soft, warm smile that never failed to make his heart stutter. "They do. It’s amazing, isn’t it? Finding someone who feels like home."

Carlos swallowed, his gaze dropping to the ground. "Yeah," he murmured, his voice almost too quiet to hear. "It really is."

The reception was lively, with laughter, clinking glasses, and the occasional cheers from the crowd. You and Carlos found yourselves at a table with some other friends, but you couldn’t shake the feeling of his gaze lingering on you throughout the evening. You tried to ignore it, focusing on the music and the joy of the celebration, but eventually, it became impossible to ignore.

During a slow song, Carlos leaned over, his voice a little uncertain. "Do you… do you want to dance?"

Surprised, you looked at him, but the softness in his expression made your heart ache in a way that felt both exhilarating and terrifying. "I’d love to."

As he took your hand and led you to the dance floor, you felt a rush of warmth spread through you. His hand rested gently on your waist, and as you swayed to the soft melody, everything else faded away. It was just the two of you, caught in a moment that felt timeless.

For a long while, neither of you spoke, content to let the music fill the silence. But then Carlos looked down at you, his eyes searching, as if trying to tell you something without words.

"Thank you for being here with me," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

You felt your heart pound as you looked up at him, wondering if he could hear it. "Where else would I be?"

The dance ended too soon, and you returned to your table, but the feeling lingered. You knew something had shifted, something deep and unspoken. And as the night went on, you couldn’t help but wonder if Carlos felt it too.

A few days after the wedding, Carlos couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d missed his chance. He’d danced with you, held you close, and for a brief, beautiful moment, he’d felt like he was exactly where he was supposed to be. But he hadn’t said what he wanted to say—what he needed to say. The fear of losing you had kept him silent, but he couldn’t keep these feelings locked away anymore. He had to tell you the truth.

One evening, he called you, asking if you could meet him by the lake where the two of you had spent so many summers. It was a place filled with memories, where you’d laughed, argued, shared secrets. And now, it would be the place where he’d finally tell you how he felt.

When you arrived, you looked curious but a little nervous, as if sensing the weight of what was about to happen.

“Carlos, is everything okay?” you asked, your voice soft.

He took a deep breath, his hands shaking slightly as he reached for yours. "There’s something I need to tell you, and it’s… it’s been on my mind for a long time."

Your brows furrowed, and he could see the concern in your eyes. But he pressed on, knowing that if he didn’t say it now, he might never have the courage again.

"I… I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember," he confessed, his voice trembling. "I didn’t want to say anything because I was afraid it would ruin what we have. But I can’t keep it to myself anymore. You’re… you’re everything to me."

He paused, looking at you, trying to read your expression. The silence stretched between you, each second feeling like an eternity.

His words hit you like a wave, leaving you speechless, your heart racing so fast you thought he could hear it. You’d dreamed of this moment for so long, but now that it was happening, you didn’t know what to say.

“Carlos,” you whispered, trying to steady your voice, “I… I never thought you’d feel the same way.”

He gave a small, shaky laugh. “I was so afraid, so scared that I’d lose you. But I couldn’t keep pretending that you were just my friend.”

You felt tears prick at your eyes, overwhelmed by the weight of his confession. “You don’t know how many times I wanted to tell you… but I thought it would be too much, that you’d never see me like that.”

Carlos took a step closer, his hand moving to gently cup your cheek. "I’ve only ever seen you like that," he murmured, his gaze soft and full of a love so deep it took your breath away.

In that moment, everything fell into place. All the years, the stolen glances, the unspoken words—it all led to this. Without another word, you leaned into him, letting the moment finally bring you together in a way you’d both been waiting for.

---

The day of your wedding dawned bright and beautiful, sunlight filtering through the windows as Carlos stood by the altar, his heart pounding with excitement and nerves. He’d never imagined that this day would come, that he’d be here, waiting to marry the woman he’d loved all his life.

When you walked down the aisle, his breath caught. You looked radiant, every bit the picture of beauty and grace, and he felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude that you were his, that you’d chosen him.

As you reached him, he took your hands, feeling a surge of emotion as he looked into your eyes. This was the moment he’d been waiting for, the one he’d dreamed of but never truly believed would happen.

When it was time for the vows, he took a deep breath, his voice steady as he began.

“From the moment I met you, you were my best friend,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “You’ve seen me at my best and my worst, and you never gave up on me. I don’t know how I got so lucky to have you in my life, but I promise I’ll spend every day making sure you know how much I love you. You are my heart, my home, my forever.”

He squeezed your hands, his eyes never leaving yours, his heart laid bare in his words.

As you listened to his vows, you felt tears gathering, each word resonating deeply within you. When it was your turn, you took a steadying breath, looking up at him, knowing that this was your chance to tell

him everything you’d kept in your heart.

“Carlos, you have been my rock, my joy, my everything. For as long as I can remember, I’ve loved you, even when I was too scared to admit it to myself. You are my best friend, my love, and my greatest adventure. I promise to stand by you, to support you, and to love you more every day. You are my past, my present, and my future.”

As you finished, you saw the tears in his eyes, and you felt a surge of happiness like nothing you’d ever felt before. When the officiant finally pronounced you husband and wife, Carlos pulled you close, his kiss soft and filled with all the love and promises you’d shared.

Surrounded by family and friends, you knew that this was only the beginning of a beautiful life together—a life filled with love, laughter, and the kind of happiness you’d both dreamed of.

Because sometimes, love is worth waiting for.

[brainddeadd]

He Never Will

the song

Luke watched her from across the table, his heart sinking as she recounted yet another story of how her boyfriend had let her down. He’d lost count of how many times he’d been here, listening to her vent about another guy who didn’t see her for who she really was. Luke knew he wasn’t perfect, but it tore him up every time she looked at him with those sad eyes, asking him why things never seemed to work out.

Tonight, he couldn’t hold back his frustration any longer.

“Why do you even put up with this, Y/N?” he asked, his voice low but steady. “I mean, if he doesn’t know what he’s got by now… he never will.”

She sighed, picking at the edge of her napkin. “It’s not that simple, Luke. I just keep thinking… maybe he’ll change, you know? Maybe he’ll finally realize what he has.”

Luke clenched his jaw, the words he’d been holding back slipping out. “If he doesn’t know what he wants by now, he won’t until it’s too late. And you deserve so much more than waiting around for someone who might never get it.”

She looked up at him, a little surprised at the intensity in his tone. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down, but he couldn’t stop. Not this time.

“Y/N,” he said gently, “why are you settling for somebody who treats you like… like you’re just someone he can live without? Don’t you see that you deserve someone who would never be able to let you go?”

She stared at him, a flicker of realization crossing her face, but she quickly looked away, as if afraid of what she might see in his eyes.

“It’s just… it’s complicated, Luke,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

“It’s not that complicated.” His voice softened as he leaned closer. “He’ll only know what he’s lost when he’s all alone. And by then, it’ll be too late. You don’t have to try so hard for someone who doesn’t even see how lucky he is to have you.”

She swallowed hard, her eyes glistening, but she didn’t pull away. “I guess… I guess I just keep hoping he’ll change.”

Luke’s heart ached, but he pushed down the frustration, focusing instead on her. “Maybe you’re just holding on to the idea of who you want him to be, not who he actually is.”

Silence hung between them, the weight of his words settling around them. She looked at him, and he could see the hurt, the hope, and maybe—just maybe—a hint of something he’d been longing to see for so long.

“Why do you even care so much, Luke?” she asked softly.

His heart raced, but he didn’t look away. “Because I’m sick of seeing you get hurt. Because… you deserve someone who’ll see you for who you are and treat you right. Not somebody who keeps making you wonder if you’re good enough.”

Her lips parted slightly, and for the first time, he saw the spark of understanding in her eyes. The truth he’d kept hidden for so long was right there between them, finally exposed.

“Luke…” she whispered, her voice trembling. “Why didn’t you say anything sooner?”

“I didn’t want to push you into anything you weren’t ready for,” he admitted, voice thick with emotion. “But I can’t keep watching you wait for someone who won’t change. You don’t have to settle for that. Not when there’s someone who already sees everything that makes you… you.”

She blinked, a tear slipping down her cheek, and he reached out, gently brushing it away. In that moment, the distance between them disappeared. She leaned into his touch, and he saw it—the realization, the acceptance, and the spark he’d been waiting for.

“Luke,” she said softly, her voice barely a whisper. “I think… I’ve been waiting for you all along.”

He smiled, a mix of relief and joy flooding him as he gently cupped her face, drawing her close. “Then don’t wait anymore,” he murmured before closing the distance between them, his lips finally meeting hers in a kiss that felt like home.

In that moment, he knew—she’d finally let go of the ones who couldn’t see her, and he’d finally found the courage to show her that he had seen her all along.

[a1ecmcdowell]

( AFTERCARE ) . . .ㅤㅤTHREE !!

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ─ ㅤㅤㅤㅤTHE new rock band in town has some nerve, causing mayhem in the venue next to your studio every night. but how do you stay MAD at the lead singer when he looks at you like that ?

PART TWO. half - past five !ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤMINORS DNI!! includes, fictional locations. fictional bandmates. weed mentions ( brief ). semi-public fingering. finger sucking. praise if u squint & minor degradation if u don't. jensen is wearing rings (that's it that's the whole warning and it's necessary). reminder that this is a slowburn!!

parts will get longer, probably, as relationship develops.

ㅤㅤㅤ─ word count: 3.6k

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤprev partㅤㅤㅤ.ㅤㅤㅤmasterlistㅤㅤㅤ.ㅤㅤㅤnext partㅤㅤㅤ.

ㅤㅤA/N. me calling it a slowburn vs them getting raunchy in chap 3 i am A LIARRRR. I STILL SAY IT'S A SLOWBURN ... IT'S NOT ALL SUNSHINE N RAINBOWS ... also what did i say huh. parts wld get longer! almost double last one! i got carried away aftercare!jensen is jus really sexy ok leave me alone.

mirrored glass shakes against the dance studio’s walls, making your reflection warble along with it. one of the mirrors is significantly looser where it’s pressed to the wall, and you just wait for it to fall, because it wants to, doesn’t it? why doesn’t it just give in? 

there’s some pent up frustration in you. clearly. the person —  well, the main one contributing to the literal and metaphorical walls in your life starting to crumble — responsible is just thirty or so steps away. and, of course you’d know that exactly, wouldn’t you? 

you’ve been pacing since you showed up. first outside of the building, when you saw the sunset blvd sign hung up and alight in one of the dingy windows of the venue. it was like a physical sign, really, that jensen was there to stay. much to your chagrin. 

even the instructor at the studio, lindsey, had something to say about your fidgeting. you’d gotten out of class early that day, and what better way to relieve your stress than to go over routines you knew in your sleep? 

except you couldn’t. at least one step in every song you tried to practice, you stumbled on, and with each song you tried again and again, you messed up more, like giving the thought of your failures any attention was exactly what they wanted to burrow in your bones. 

that’s when lindsey, who’d been cleaning off the mirrors in preparation for her upcoming class, said something. “laurel hit you with a hard routine?” 

“no,” you snap without meaning to, guilt washing itself over you the moment the words leave your mouth. she was innocent in your little problems. “just— thinking too much.” 

“i’d argue that the point of dancing is to stop you from thinking.” 

and she was so right that you could have cried. it was infuriating, knowing your problems and what was causing them, and being completely incapable of doing something to stop them. 

you didn’t answer her; nothing productive would come from this conversation when you were too in your head to see outside of your thick skull. instead, you snatched up your phone and clicked play on the sleeping beauty track you’d been working on. 

“why are the mirrors so loose?” lindsey asked, then, incredulity laced in her words, and that was what started your pacing. 

you’d take fifteen of the thirty seven steps from the inside of destiny dance to sunset blvd, and turn back. rinse, repeat. sometimes more than fifteen. most times less. it was so stupid, wanting to pick this fight, knowing it wouldn’t go anywhere. 

but you were at your wit’s end. and maybe, just maybe, you’d started to miss those piercing green eyes that watched you from outside of the venue next door while you practiced. 

masochism is a hell of a thing. 

you don’t even know what caused the breaking point to hit you, but it did, probably an hour into your relentless back and forth with yourself. and suddenly, you were pushing open the glass doors to sunset blvd.

for once, it’s dead silent. but you know that they’re all here, all four members of whatever-the-hell band, whatever-the-hell their names were. the parking lot had four cars in it.

it’s easier like this — empty stage, empty seats — to stomp your aggravated little ass up to the side of the stage. there’s a couple of steep steps leading up to the stage, and your steps echo on the hollow wood of each. 

your hand closes around the tall, dusty curtain leading backstage, when someone else shoves it back fiercely with all of the confidence of someone who thinks they’re alone. 

you jump, but the person screams. a high, piercing scream that echoes around the ( admittedly pretty good ) acoustics of the room.

it’s a guy — lanky and tall with long hair to his shoulders. he holds a hand over his chest, knuckles white from how tightly he’s gripping onto the ripped band t-shirt he wears. metallica. at least you’d heard of that one. 

“jesus christ,” he wheezes out, and you can’t help the way your eyes drop to the blunt in his fingers at his side. surely smoking weed wasn’t good for him. 

you keep that to yourself, though. you did just scare the life out of him, after all. “where is everyone?” 

he blinks a couple of times, and you visibly watch his eyes focus on your face. recognition flares in his deep brown eyes. “our local little dancer, here to grace us again.” 

you roll your eyes. “i have a name—” 

“yeah, yeah, but you never asked for mine, so i’m sure as shit not asking for yours.” he raises the blunt to his parted lips, sucking in a deep inhale. he says, around the exhale of smoke he releases, “reggie, by the way.” 

oh. this was reggie. the little pissant that tried to blow your eardrums when you first showed up here. last time you saw him, you didn’t pay much attention to him. 

you still weren’t going to, unfortunately for him and the way his mouth opens to keep talking to you. 

“guess we’re even.”

reggie grimaces and at least has the decency to look apologetic. you take a step forward to pull the curtain back again and step backstage when he speaks again.

“noa’s in the ladies room. steven’s in the men’s, with—” 

jensen. god, what the hell was wrong with you? there was no reason for your heart to stutter at the sheer thought of him. 

this was your problem, after all — the one buried beneath the ones that you tried to claim as your problems instead: you wanted to see him. he hadn’t been outside consistently, not even when you were leaving. there were a couple of days in that week where you didn’t see him, only knew he was there at all by the number of cars in the back parking lot. 

you say a quick thank you before you finally do step underneath the lifted edge of the heavy curtain, a puff of dust clouding in your lungs the moment you let go of it. 

you break into a ticklish cough as it coats your tongue and the inside of your mouth, too focused on trying to catch your breath again to pay attention to where you’re walking. 

“what, you take a hit of reggie’s blunt but not mine?” he says, his voice still as deep as you remember, smile just as chastising. “didn’t know you were into scrawny guys. never stood a chance, did i?” 

then, and only then, do you manage to shoot a glare up at him. and of course, jensen is smirking, dimples embedded in his cheeks, eyes practically glimmering with the taunt. 

no— they were really glimmering. the green was so much more pronounced today, with the whites of his eyes stained pink. oh, hell. 

“it’s dust.” 

jensen whistles lowly under his breath, leaning back in a mock gesture of surrender, before he settles back fully on his feet. “yyyeeah, reggie’s shit is shit.” 

“no—” your face flushes, both with a twinge of embarrassment and irritation. “i mean, it’s literally— like, it’s literally dust. this place is covered in dust.” 

jensen laughs, loudly and heartily, and it makes your toes curl in your pointe shoes. you really were a wreck; reduced to rubble by this man whose sole purpose, it seemed, was to get on your last nerves.

“s’what happens in abandoned places, princess,” he says slowly and drawn out, like he was talking to a toddler. you bristle at it, nose twitching, and that only makes him laugh a bit harder. “oh, come on. thought we were friends now.” 

your mouth closes, then opens, and closes all over again. friends. you certainly weren’t aware of when that happened, especially since— 

“you haven’t been outside in three days.” god, could your voice sound any smaller? your face flames with embarrassment, not having wanted that to be the thing you say to him in response, but what could you do now? 

jensen’s smile softens. softens! as if you could feel any less mortified. “my pretty princess is missing me, is she?” 

“oh, go to—” 

“hell?” he finishes, eyebrows shooting up as the word leaves his mouth. “only if you come on down with me.” 

you can’t even bristle again before he’s crowding your space. one step forward from him, and two steps back from you. it’s not a very wide hallway, though, and before you knew it, you were trapped.

trapped in the cage of his strong arms, back to the brick wall. this close, you can see the swirls of ink adorning his skin, black wisps of fire and symbols that you don’t know. his hands come up to properly cage you in; palms flat on the wall by your head. 

“you want to, don’t you?” he murmurs, his gaze dropped to your lips. everywhere his eyes land, your skin burns. he’s fire, and you’re ice, and you’re completely molten, melted at his feet. “c’mon, princess,” he says just as softly, “tell me what you want.” 

the words to leave are right there on your tongue. they’re right there, heavy and palpable, and yet they don’t leave the confines of your closed lips. 

jensen’s smile widens, becoming more devilish than sweet. his breath reeks of alcohol and weed this close, but there’s the faintest underlining of mint. your senses are turned up too high to handle this properly — and he can tell. “oh, i see,” his voice is so deep and rough that it makes your skin tremble, “my pretty girl wants me to show her, does she?” 

no, you try to say, but it’s stuck just like the rest of your protests, right there behind your teeth. if only you had the strength to lift your arms and tug your jaw open, to force the words out, because suddenly your head is nodding. 

“good girl,” he says, and one of his hands slips from the wall to your chin, index and thumb holding it between his fingers as he tilts it up to meet your eyes. “but i’m sure you’re used to hearing that, aren’t you?” 

his voice is soft and rough at once, like he’s sharing painful secrets right in her ear. his tone, though, is full of a venom that you don’t want to think about. shame is already so thick on your skin that it feels like paint; the last thing you want is to let his chastising words get to you just as much as your desire for him. 

“pretty,” jensen continues as his hand slips lower, running over the thin fabric of your leotard. it’s innocent at first, the backs of his fingers running down your shoulder. still, it lights you up as if he’d just kissed you. “good. innocent.” 

his hand slips further down, his ring-adorned knuckles tracing over your breasts. they peak beneath that little brush of a touch, nipples aching against the skin-tight of the leotard. 

“i was sure that even good girls get tired of being good,” he mumbles, his face inching closer to yours, nose to nose. “but then i met you, and you just can’t help it, can you? that incessant need to be good?”

jensen’s head drops into the crook of your neck, his facial hair on your sensitive skin making your breath hitch. his laugh is breathless in your ear, against your shoulder, as he presses his lips on the space above your collarbone. 

and his hand keeps moving. it outlines a straight line down the center of your breasts, down your sternum, and stops just below your navel. 

“or maybe…” he trails off, his other hand dropping from the wall and grasping at your skirt, tugging it up in one quick movement. it draws a shuddering gasp from your parted, dry lips, another thing that makes him chuckle. “maybe you do it because you like it. is that it, princess?” 

you can’t even bring yourself to answer him. your skin feels hot and alive, like electricity dances through your veins. livewires sparking beneath the surface of your skin. 

your hands, though, reach for the leather flaps of the jacket on his shoulders. you need something to touch to keep you from slipping too far into the abyss of this. 

his fingertips brush across the thin strap of fabric covering your throbbing, sensitive pussy, the heat in your lower stomach burning and crackling and tight. you can feel the edges of his fingertips grazing the edge of the inseam of the leotard. “yeah, i thought that was it,” he rasps, another of those breathless laughs pressing into your collarbone, “of course the good girl likes to be told she’s a good girl.” 

one of his hands still holds the edge of your skirt up, and the other sweeps the thin fabric away, letting cool air dance across your exposed, slick cunt. 

your mouth finally finds the words it wants to say, and they stumble out in a quick succession, an unintelligible sentence. “jensen— there… people—” 

“reg is off his ass,” he mutters, his mouth still grazing and nipping at the sensitive skin of your collarbone, “steven’s in the fuckin’ bathroom doin’ lines still, and noa’s probably in the bathroom doin’ him.” 

his eyes flick up to meet yours, the green now just a thin ring around the deep intensity of his pupils. “no people around, pretty princess,” he assures, his lips curling into that teasing smile of his — though now, it’s much softer. 

you barely get a chance to acknowledge any of his words before his calloused thumb slips between the slick folds of your pussy. you stutter out a gasp as the electricity of his touch travels your lower stomach and up, up, up, sending your heartrate fluttering quicker.

jensen massages the sensitive, swollen nub of your clit, his eyes locked onto yours, gauging your reaction to his painstakingly slow circles. his teeth hold his bottom lip captive between them. somehow, his eyes look even more blown now that your gazes are locked. 

you try, you do, and it’s an honorable effort, to keep any sound from slipping out of your lips in response to the tantalizing grazes of his hand between your legs. but a muffled whimper starts low in your throat and shudders out, and it’s enough to encourage him to keep going. 

“little louder, baby, i can’t hear you,” he whispers with his nose pressed against yours. he uncurls his fingers, letting you feel every brush of his fingertips as they drag across the expanse of your spread pussy. “i know it feels good, baby, can feel how fucking wet you are.” 

it’s cruel, the way he can touch you like this and say such things about it, while you’re completely spread out for him and at his mercy. “fuck you,” you seethe through your teeth, though it holds none of the malice you wish it did — instead coming out like a whimpering whine. 

“uh uh, not yet,” he laughs breathlessly across your face, and his long middle finger stops at the dip of your entrance, traces the wetness dripping from it, smears it further up your spread pussy. “you’re not ready for that yet, pretty girl. and i wanna make you feel good. don’t you want it to feel good? when you do get to have me?” 

he talks to you like you’re something innocent, something he’s more than happy to break and ruin. chastising and seductive all in the same breath. jensen doesn’t even give you the time to answer before he pushes that same finger inside of you. 

he’s wearing a ring. you didn’t even see the ring when you were talking to him — admittedly, you were only looking at his swollen lips, darkened eyes, sweaty hair hanging just below his ears. but you felt it now; his already thick finger stretches you out, and the ring adds to it the moment he’s deep enough inside of you. 

it’s a shockwave of pleasure all at once. you don’t even try to stifle the moan this time, your head falling forward to knock against his. “there she is,” he praises, his voice much deeper and raspier than it was moments before. “i knew you had it in you.” 

that’s when he starts to move. it’s still only that one finger pushed to the hilt of his hand inside of you, but the ring scrapes the edges of your walls with every thrust he pushes it into you. the pace is slow, deep, like he was making love to you with nothing but his hand. 

of course he wasn’t, though. jensen didn’t seem like the type to make love, and the point is proven when his fingers curl, and stars erupt in your vision. 

“god,” you choke on the word, gasping and panting on his face, your breaths mingling with how close you are. 

jensen grins. he’s always fucking grinning, like he knows exactly the effect he has on the people he touches. “mmm, close, but not my name.” 

“go — to hell.” 

he pumps his finger in and out of your soaked pussy, so hard that the sound of each wet movement punctuates each moan you loosen. “told you already,” he grunts, pulling his ringed finger out of you just enough to where you can only feel the tip of it teasing your stretched entrance. “not without you.” 

there’s never any warning with him, never any indication of what he’s going to do before he’s already knuckles deep into it. and he adds a second finger, another ring adorning it, and pumps the both of his fingers deep into your pussy. 

it’s too much all at once. the feeling of his fingers curling inside of you like quotation marks to each of his thrusts, the fact that there were three people scattered around the rest of the small building, potentially seconds from walking out into the hall and seeing the debauchery he was inflicting on you— 

you hook your leg up and curl it around his waist, giving him a better angle to keep fingerfucking you, and for you to be able to take him deeper, harder, faster—

the invitation isn’t lost on jensen, either. the hand that’d been holding your skirt up releases it and hooks under your thigh to keep it held there. “look at you,” he grunts between his clenched teeth, “bein’ so fucking good for me.” 

your throat feels raw from the effort of trying to keep your voice down, trying to keep every single noise clamped behind the barriers of your tight lips. and it’s too much. and you can’t even really think straight, not with the cool metal rings so tantalizing on your inner walls, with his thick fingers so deep you can feel the tips teasing your cervix. 

your lips part on a shuddering moan, finally uncaging the desperate, guttural sounds that’d been building since he started to touch you. the tightness in your lower stomach coils, tighter and tighter; a snake capturing its prey, a girl clenching tightly around the fingers that thrust into her. 

for once, jensen is dead silent, and you really wish he’d talk, even if it was just to continue teasing you, because all you can hear in this hallway is the gushing sound of his fingers in you and your crescendoing moans, and—

your head falls back against the brick wall behind it, the thud hardly registering in your mind as your leg tightens around his waist, as his fingers keep up there relentless pace, as you pulse around his knuckles and against his palm in tune to your heartbeat.

it’s overwhelming, how fast you fall apart right there in his hands. “fuck— jensen—” your body goes still and taut for a second before it goes completely boneless, your face burying in the smoky smelling leather of his jacket. even as your pussy throbs around him, even as you’re still so sensitive that your body is practically trembling, he doesn’t relent. 

not for another ten or so seconds. and you do count, because it starts to feel like a punishment instead of for pleasure, even as you grind your hips down to take him deeper. 

his fingers slip out of you, wet and glistening with your juices. his eyes are somehow more glazed than they were, still rimmed red and glimmery. “open up, princess,” he rasps, the smile on his face more lazy than the smirk he wore earlier. 

who are you to deny him anything right now? you barely know your name, your legs numb, your heart racing from the comedown. 

“good girl,” he praises lowly once your lips pop open again. jensen pushes his wet fingers inside your mouth, pushing down on your tongue to push your mouth open wider. 

tasting yourself around the salty smoke flavor of his fingers is almost enough to make your legs buckle. his eyes watch you intently, glancing between your eyes and your mouth. 

and maybe you are sick of being good. maybe he was right all along, with every word you deemed chastising and prodding. it only takes a blink for you to close your lips around his fingers and swirl your tongue around them in your mouth, around the rings. 

“goddamn,” he chuckles, breathless and exhaling. “maybe you are more fun than you let on.” 

you didn’t know, then, that this was the worst possible thing either of you could do. because now, you knew he’d let you in when you came around, and now he knew how easy you were to break.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤFEEDBACK & REBLOGS APPRECIATED!! < 3

tags! @happyladyduck, @casatoan, @mo0nwalker, @manicjk, @stereotypicalbarbie, @inpraise0fbacchus, @fitxgrld !

[metallicames]

Hi there! here is the second part. Hope you like it.

Translated by @nausicaamusiclover20 ❣️

Wild Things

Description: you and the guys from Metallica went to an afterparty in a pub in Seattle and James needs you, again...

WARNINGS: smut, explicit content, rough sex, dirty talking.

The energy inside the arena had been electric, but here at the Rocket, it was absolute chaos. Not a single person was sober—people were stumbling, dancing, shouting, and even vomiting. I spot my friend Matt making out with a girl against the bathroom wall, while some of his friends slump around a nearby table, two of them with their heads down, completely out from all the drinking.

In a quieter corner, the guys from the band look worn but happy, celebrating with yet another round of beer. I notice faint lines of white powder scattered on their table, but before I can think too much about it, Kirk is beside me, shouting to be heard over the noise, “Which song pumped you up the most?”

We start talking about the show, laughing over his solos and the way Lars seemed like he’d tear his arms off playing Battery. The memories pour out, reliving every song, every moment. Time blurs in the chaos, and everyone’s laughing, with James goofing around, throwing playful jabs at Lars and the others.

At some point, I slip away to the bathroom, and as I’m stepping back out, a hand grabs my wrist and pulls me into a dim room, lit only by a few soft blue lights. The walls are made of dark plexiglass, and a lone, abandoned pool table sits at the center.

It’s James. His eyes are dark, intense, and he pulls me close, kissing me with a sudden, fierce urgency. I feel a rush of surprise and thrill, a smirk on my lips as I kiss him back, slipping my hands around the collar of his leather jacket, pulling him even closer.

It doesn’t take long before he turns me around, pressing me forcibly forward so that my chest meets the cool, worn felt of the pool table. I feel his body close behind me, his hands guiding me as his breathing quickens. He leans down to murmur close to my ear, “I can’t stop fucking you!” and then slaps my buttock. A thrill runs down my spine, and I find myself whispering, almost pleading, “Please...fuck me, James. I need you to fill me completely...again.”

He exhales a low, almost primal sound, his hands tightening around my waist as he draws me close. His touch is both rough and tender, his fingers brushing along my hips. He lifts my skirt and moves my panties on the side. The sensation immediately makes me shiver. With a smirk on his face he spits on his hand and starts rubbing my clit and my already wet cunt . Then he entered me fully making me moan loudly. The sensations are overwhelming, and every nerve feels alive and the position increases friction which makes me feel even more pleasure. “Please Jamie... faster!” I sayed sighing “As you wish, baby” and he started thrusting even faster, resting his hands on my hips. The thrill of being in this moment, hidden away, the exhilaration of the music and chaos outside, that everyone can enter but I couldn’t care less because even if someone entered, I would never notice. Every breath, every heartbeat, feels like it belongs only to us.

I can’t see his face, but I feel his urgency in the way he holds me, the rhythm of his breaths, and the tension in his grip. It’s a shared, silent connection—an electric, irresistible pull that feels like it could last forever. “Fffuck James, you’re so deep...” I cried while I’m trying to claw my way onto the surface of the pool table. “Am I hurting you?” - “No, just fuck me, don’t stop please!” I encourage him, he takes my free wrist and brings it behind my back, squeezing it with his strong fingers, using it as further leverage to stabilize the movements and make them even deeper.

I feel completely lost in the moment, my eyes rolling back as pleasure overwhelms me. Soft moans escape my lips, intertwining with James's deep, breathy responses. I can feel the makeup I carefully applied earlier begin to run down my cheeks, a reminder of how intense this experience has become. 

A powerful wave of sensation builds inside me, threatening to sweep me away. “You’re so wet... I can feel you’re close" he whispers, his voice barely above a breath, sending shivers down my spine.

My body responds instinctively, tightening around him, as if trying to draw him in even deeper. Every movement sends ripples of electricity through me. “Fuck, you’re making me me cum!” he exclaims, each word punctuated by gasps that only heighten my own desire.

Suddenly, I’m overwhelmed by a wave of pleasure, crashing over me like a tidal wave. I let out a desperate, “Oh my goddd” as I reach my peak, trembling uncontrollably and squeezing my legs instinctively as I ride the waves of ecstasy that leave me breathless.

I turn my head slightly, catching a glimpse of James out of the corner of my eye. He looks dazed and filled with desire, his tousled hair falling across his face. When our eyes meet, he pauses for a heartbeat, breathless and intense. Then, with a deliberate movement, he wraps his hands around my neck, just enough to make me arch my back slightly, and resumes his frantic rhythm.

“I’m going to wreck you!! I want to fill you completely.." he gasps between breaths, his voice low and urgent, makes me lose my mind.

At this point, I feel utterly lost in the moment, my body overwhelmed by pleasure and the intensity of our connection. The way he drives into me, pressing me against the pool table, is exhilarating and surreal. I can hardly believe he still has this kind of energy after the wild night we’ve shared.

“Fill me up, James, I’m all yours” I manage to breathe out, surrendering to the powerful wave of sensation that washes over me.

With a deep, primal groan, he reaches his climax, and I can feel him pulsing inside me. It’s a rush of warmth that envelops me, and I instinctively tighten around him, savoring every last moment of our connection. He empties himself completely, and as he collapses against me, his head resting on my back, I can hear his heavy breaths, a testament to how spent he is.

In that moment, everything else fades away, leaving just the two of us, entwined and breathless, lost in the aftermath of what we’ve shared.

As I try to gather myself, I hear a tapping sound on the plexiglass behind us. I turn my head slightly and catch a glimpse of Lars, who initially pretends to make out with the wall before shifting to simulate being intimate with an imaginary girl. I don’t worry too much; I’m still covered by James's body, and I know that Lars, being James's best friend, has probably seen it all. James bursts into laughter and calls out, “You idiot!” Lars walks away, still chuckling, leaving a light atmosphere in the room.

James slowly pulls away from me, letting out a soft sigh. “Damn, I’m exhausted,” he says as he starts to get dressed.

I glance at the clock on the wall: it’s 5:30 am. I get dressed too, still a bit dazed by everything that has just happened.

“Are you going to sleep with me tonight?!” His question feels more like an affirmation, and there’s sincerity in his eyes.

“yes, sure. but I need to check where Matt went. He was pretty messed up when I last saw him,” I reply, trying to keep my tone light.

“Okay, don’t worry. We’ll call him a taxi later,” he reassures me with a casual wave of his hand.

As we step outside, I start looking for Matt and finally find him slumped on a bench in the pub, mumbling something incoherently. He’s completely drunk. We head out together and call a taxi. Before we let him go, I slip a note into Matt's jacket pocket: “I’m staying at James’s, don’t worry. What a crazy night!!! Kisses.”

We watch him stagger away, then climb into the band’s van. I sit across from Kirk, who looks at us with a mischievous, high grin. I’m sure James and I look like we’ve just had the best night of our lives. I can feel my cheeks flush as I turn to look at James. His hair is tousled, his cheeks are flushed, and there’s a light sheen of sweat on his skin. Next to Kirk, Jason is eagerly kissing a girl I’ve never seen before, while in the back, Lars is sprawled between two girls, resting his head on one of their shoulders.

James leans his head back, clearly spent, and at one point, he reaches for my hand. When he finds it, he gently squeezes it, running his thumb lightly across my knuckles. The ride lasts about ten minutes, and I thank the creator of elevators because if I had to climb four flights of stairs, I would probably be dead.

We enter James’s hotel room, which he usually shares with at least one other bandmate, often Lars, but tonight he has it all to himself. The place is a mess: beer bottles and various alcohol containers scattered everywhere, T-shirts strewn about, and the bed is in disarray. “So typical of James,” I think with an amused smile.

He quickly sheds his clothes, leaving only his boxers, and collapses onto the bed, utterly exhausted.

“Can I borrow one of your shirts to sleep in? I don’t have anything with me,” I ask, poking my head out of the bathroom.

“Sure, grab the one on the chair. It should be clean,” he replies, his voice drowsy.

I slip on the shirt I find, soft and smelling like him, then lie down beside him. He turns to face me, his eyes already half-closed. God, he’s so handsome. Unable to resist, I lean in and give him a soft kiss on the lips.

He responds immediately, sliding his hand between my thighs, creating a warm, enveloping sensation. I sink into a heavy sleep, feeling his body close to mine, a perfect refuge as the outside world fades away, leaving just the two of us, wrapped in a comforting haze of sensation and the promise of tomorrow.

To be continued

𖥸

[lucedilunax]

Forget about us - A. Matthews

Songs masterlist

song: Forget about us - Perrie

pairing: Auston Matthews x fem!reader

summary: Retrospection from Auston and his (ex) girlfriend relationship

warning: none i think???

words: 1.8k

note: I tried to write without a name so tell me what you think and which one you prefer more, with or without!

masterlist

---

One night in 2016 changed her and Auston’s lives. He just came to play hockey for local team. She got accepted on university here. Both clicked in a minute. They’ve been just a teenagers but after one party, they saw future with each other and they knew, they are made for each other.

After a month, Auston asked her to be his girlfriend. She was over the moon. He was her first true love. In 2017, she moved to his house. Despite their busy schedules, they always found times for every week dates. People were saying that they’re soulmates.

Auston had never been afraid of showing her on social media. They were one of the most popular couples in NHL. On every home game, you could see her face in the stands, rooting for him. He was more than grateful to have her by her side. She could say the same about Auston. She felt his support every time when she was at her low.

Everything changed at the beginning of 2024. She wasn’t going on his games. People were assuming that she’s pregnant and doesn’t want to be in spotlight. They hoped to see soon a ring on her finger, but this never happened. When people were asking about her absence, Auston decided to make a statement. He wrote on his Instagram that they split up. It was shock to everyone. They always looked so in love with each other and after almost 8 years of dating, they broke up. They never shared the information why they decided to part away. Lot of journalists were asking Auston questions but due respect to her, he never said anything. All they were left with, were memories.

Saw you blew up, and I’m proud of you

After they split up, she stopped paying attention to hockey. It was too hurtful for her. All she knew about this sport was thanks to Auston. With time, the city started to overwhelm her with the memories. She moved to Quebec City. In new place, she felt alive without hockey on every single step. She made new friends and got a new job. She found new hobbies like yoga and painting. She started to discover herself from the beginning.

In one of the hot and sunny days in August, she was driving her car to work. She was late already and forgot to plug her phone to put on her music. She turned the radio on just to have something playing in the background. She couldn’t drive in silence. The radio station was playing the most popular songs until they started sport news and then, she heard his name.

The journalist said “John Tavares is not the captain anymore! Toronto Maple Leafs just announced that Auston Matthews has become 26th captain in the franchise history and first-ever born American to be their captain…”. She couldn’t focus on the rest of the news. All she felt were tears going down her cheeks. She knew her makeup is ruined but she didn’t care.

She wanted to act surprised, but she couldn’t. She knew that he deserved the “C” like no one else and one day he’s gonna get it. She was super proud of him. Before she left the car, she grabbed her phone and wanted to write to him with congratulations but she stopped herself.

She started talking about this to her friends. They weren’t pleased that she’s mentioning her ex-boyfriend, but they saw how happy she is while talking about him. She was smiling all the time, and they haven’t saw her that joyful since she and Auston split up, so they let it slip.

I don’t want you ever to forget about us in the front seat,

Listenin’ to songs that made you think about me

Auston was always nervous before the games. It was causing arguments between him and her because he was taking his frustration on her. She came up with great idea. Most players take naps before matches, but he wasn’t one of them. One day, she told him to get into the car. He obeyed and sat in passenger seat. She started the car and was driving around city. She put music on and talked to him about the tv show she’s currently watching. She wanted to keep his head busy and far away from hockey.

He loved their trip and asked her before every home game to go on a little trip. She gladly accepted his offer but from now, he was driver. He preferred to have her on passenger seat where he can keep his hand on her thigh.

She was very specific about the music. She was always the one to choose songs. Auston didn’t mind it. He saw how much of a joy it is for her, to show him her favorite songs or just put one of her playlists. She loved singing in the car and soon after, Auston was doing this with her. It was always a great fun for them. For these little moments, he was grateful.

After they break up, Auston continued this tradition to calm his nerves. Before every game, he was driving around and listening to songs from her favorite playlist. It wasn’t the same like with her. He was now all alone in the car. Singing wasn’t that much fun without her. He tried couple times, but it felt wrong to him. Instead, he decided to listen to her playlist when he was driving to the rink for a game.

But when I hear your name, it’s still so raw

Auston loved her name. It was so unique, yet so normal. It was a pleasure for him to say it. He was feeling pride when he was introducing her to new people and could say it out loud. To call her his. He was using pet names towards her like love, dove, sweetheart or baby, but none of the nicknames could replace her name and how much he loved it.

When they broke up, he felt like her name is a forbidden word. He never said it again. He hated hearing it from others mouth. It felt wrong to him. When he started to hooking up with other women, and heard that one of them share the same name, he ditched the woman. It was a fresh wound for him. He didn’t wanted to disrespect the legacy she built in his life.

Do you remember the way we fell, and,

Like everything froze with just once glance?

They met in one of the clubs. Her friends visited her and decided to go and get drunk. She was more than willing for this idea. It was a casual night out. She hasn’t planned to meet anyone. She just wanted to enjoy her and her friends.

Auston went to the club with his friends to celebrate his draft. He was delighted that he’s gonna be in NHL. He planned to get drunk and maybe to hook up with someone. Nothing binding. Although this changed when he saw her.

When their eyes met in the club, both froze in a spot. She felt like she saw the most handsome men in the world. He felt like he saw the most beautiful woman in the world. He wanted to go and talk with her, but he lost his confidence. He was confident that this gorgeous girl must be in a relationship. When his friends saw his state, they pushed him to make a move.

Auston went to talk with her, and they clicked immediately. They found out that they have common passions and interests. The next day, he asked her on a date. They’ve been spending every day together and after a month, Auston asked her to be official for what she was grateful.

I don’t want you ever to forget about us

I know we were never perfect, but I think about the life we never had

She loved talking with Auston about their future. When they adopted a dog, she felt like it’s a big step for them. She always imagined their married life in a big house with a dog and kids. She was the only child and she dreamt about having at least three kids.

Auston always listened to her stories about their future life but never said anything. He saw future with her, but he felt like it’s happening to fast. Yes, they’ve been together for almost 8 years, but he hasn’t felt the need to settle down. They just adopted a dog and now, she’s talking about kids. He wanted to focus on hockey and feel free, without kids around.

He knew that he should put a ring on her finger. They’ve been together for so long and she deserved that, but he was scared. He wasn’t ready to be married. He wasn’t ready to have kids. That’s why, he decided to break up with her. He didn’t want to keep her behind with her plans. He knew how much raising a family means to her.

She couldn’t accept the fact that he’s breaking up with her over this. She wanted to fight for their relationship. Both were madly in love in each other, but Auston didn’t wanted her to regret staying with him when he’s prioritizing his career over their future life. Although, after thinking about it, she realized he’s right. Auston was keeping her from this. That’s why she agreed to split up. It was heartbreaking moment for them, but they knew it’s the best decision since they want different things.  

Yeah, we both found different love, and we’re movin’ on

After they broke up, Auston started hooking up with other women. Soon after, he fell in love with one of the girls. It wasn’t the same kind of love but still it was love for him. He moved on from his past relationship, but he could never forget her. He believed that she was the best thing that happened to him, but he knew, she never will be his again.

When she moved to Quebec City, she haven’t planned on looking for a new boyfriend. All she wanted was to heal. Through common friends, she met another guy. He was loving and caring towards her. When he asked her to be his girlfriend, she agreed. Even when she wasn’t feeling it in 100%, she was happy to have someone by her side.

I don’t want you ever to forget about us

She and Auston moved on, but the 8 years built them. They became the best version of themselves thanks to each other. Maybe they haven’t been together anymore, but they couldn’t forget about each other. Their love damaged them from having next relationships. She was comparing every guy to Auston and Auston was comparing every girl to her. With time, they realized they’ve made huge mistake by breaking up with each other but none of them wanted to reach to the other and try to get back together. They moved on but they haven’t forgot about each other.

---

Thanks for reading💕

[mourningliliesmorningglories]

Blowing Smoke

A Jegulus song lyric one shot. I'm trying a new layout so lmk what you think! Guys this actually came to me like a fever dream.

wc: 1042 // @jegulus-microfic

Regulus isn't stupid. He sees it, all of it. He sees how she looks at James and how James looks back at her. It wasn't enough for him to have Regulus because you always chase the things you only get a taste of. This too, Regulus knows all too well. He stays hidden in the astronomy tower, behind tapestries, and alcoves in the dark. She can be loved out loud, in the common room, in the great hall, in the daylight. Today is the end day. Regulus plays the part of executioner and guilty both. He knows that to love something is to lose it too. That does not make this easier. 

James crashes through the door of the tower, rumpled and blushing. He was always loud, always the centre of attention. His eyes land on Regulus, and just for a second, Regulus stills. He can't keep this, but god, how he wants to. Maybe he never even had it, but there's something there, just not worth playing second for. James carries that boyish smile, the one reserved only for Regulus, but it's too late. A sacrifice is only a sacrifice once the blood is drawn. 

"Tell me, is she prettier than she was on the internet?" Regulus' face shifts into indifference. No preamble, no games. He is still a Black at the end of the day. 

"Reg, what are you talking about?" James shifts uncomfortably. He knew this was coming. Not this soon though, he pleads, not right now. 

"Are your conversations cool, like are you even interested?" Regulus stands, leaning against the railing of the tower. His arms sit crossed over his chest, less to be intimidating, and more to keep his heart where it should be. His tone is light, conversational almost. 

"This is about Lily." James' voice is toneless, his eyes immediately dull. Not now. Not now. 

"Who else, James, who else?" 

In any other scenario, you just might have been able to convince Regulus he was wrong, that James was just trying to protect them both. Maybe he would've believed that a year of hiding was worth it, that kissing in cupboards and avoiding eye contact in the dinner hall was just the way it should be. But Regulus will not be an object of shame outside of his home, he won't drag that ignominy behind him when he doesn't have to. 

"She's my friend." His eyes narrow. "I'm not going to avoid her just because she makes you insecure." James isn't an argumentative person. In fact, he's a talker, a placater, and so he can't quite figure out why defending Lily comes to him so easily. 

"I know what you are, brighter than the stars." Now Regulus' voice is pure mockery, just so he can see how far James flinches. "Did you mean that then?"

"That was a private conversation. Who even told you about that?"

"I don't think me finding out is the issue here."

"She was upset, she's got so much going-"

"And me, James? How much have I got going on?" Now Regulus promised himself to stay put together, but this, this is his frailty. Too emotional, too expressive when it counts the least. "I'm your dirty little secret because Sirius wouldn't be able to handle sharing. I'm one wrong step away from my parents beating me half to death. So tell me." 

"No."

"Tell me what the fuck is so awful in her life you just had to recycle the same line you used on me?"

James is quiet, chest heaving. He can feel curls sticking to the nape of his neck from sweat. How could he choose? How could Regulus make him. The silence was crackling like it was electrified. A blush crept up Regulus' cheeks. He looked younger in that moment, and something tugs at James' chest, but a callow face does not mean weakness. 

"Tell me if she takes you far." And James knows exactly what Regulus means. Even through his derisive tone, Regulus had something that kept James grounded, something that kept him tethered. And he hates it. 

"Far away from you." James is angry now, but he can't quite tell who it's at. "Far enough away from all the baggage you've been carrying." His head is a mess, and the only person who could help won't. Who the fuck does Regulus think he is? What the fuck has he done?

"My baggage? Oh, you're funny, Potter. Go on, run away again." Regulus' tone is harsh, derisive. "Up another hill to all the girls who'll help you bury it."

"Oh, fuck off Regulus. Back to surnames? Really? Can't we just talk?"

"About what? The lying? The running? The hiding? No, we can't fucking talk. Grow up."

"Baby Black, so insecure, so naive." James' words are trite to Regulus. "And the girls? What fucking girls? How could I when you're always just behind me?"

"Apparently that still didn't stop you." A flicker of hurt runs through Regulus, but he tamps it down. 

"You know nothing about me. You don't understand. I have a reputation. Everyone thinks I'm single, and Lily's just there. What do you want me to do when I'm constantly pushed in her way?" James is bright red and the air is cloying. His head is buzzing, and he just wants it to stop. "Everyone expects me to be put together, to get the girl, to be cool and funny, and attractive. I thought you'd get it."

"They're just blowing smoke," Regulus smiles, except it's not a smile at all. "I'll say what they won't." It's a realisation. Regulus knows that despite everything, despite being James' dirty little secret, he still has one thing James doesn't. 

James told Regulus the truth, everything. Every false laugh. Every tired smile. Every sleepless night. 

And James knows it too. 

"Reg, wait. Stop. Please." His hand reaches for Regulus, but he just misses, brushing the cuff of his jumper. 

"I know everything they don't." Regulus' footsteps echo all the way down the stairs. 

And for the first time in his life, James feels something bubbling up in his chest. A subtle burning that felt like agony. 

For the first time in his life, James Potter couldn't have the thing he wanted most.

[mourningliliesmorningglories]

Oh this is so Vienna coded. Oh I am thinking so many thoughts.

People Sirius Black did not get enough time with:

James Potter (10 years)

Harry Potter (2 years)

Remus Lupin (13 years)

Regulus Black (10 (good) years)

Fleamont and Euphemia Potter (7 years)

[kuneruru]

[azariah-z-fell]

Crowley : ready for it

To

Aziraphale : wildest dreams

[hello-galad]

Cid has a battered old radio in his workshop. It catches a frequency that plays old songs, sometimes nostalgic for couples dancing to the rhythm of soft blues, other times all it plays is rock music and Cid hums the lyrics absentmindedly.

Sometimes Cid can hear soft humming coming from somewhere above him, as silent as the turning of pages. Vincent likes to read, perched most of the time on one of the crates or the wing of one of the planes. Sometimes a rafter, others a chair next to Cid’s as the engineer goes over blueprints and equations.

That day the radio station plays a soft but rhythmic melody that Cid will be the first to admit he doesn’t know how to dance to, but he doesn’t really care as he reaches out to Vincent with an extended hand in invitation. Vincent, who had been watching him swing around the workshop, a feeling of peace and happiness in that smile that carefully keeps the cigarette Cid is smoking in place, accepts Cid’s extended hand. Without warning he is lifted from the chair, twirled around and back in the blonde’s arms.

The song ends and is followed by a softer one that Vincent recognizes from back when he was still a Turk for ShinRa.

They sway together to the voice of the singer who reminds her love that she’s forever theirs.

[pepperpixel]

“And it’s! Clean out the bank and, bump off your daddy,

You can come live with us amidst the has-beens and the addicts!

These are crazy times down at Costello music!

You can answer the phone and talk any way you choose it, come on!”

More Betty and Magic Man! And… I maybe should wait to post these as part of a photoset cuz… I do still have more wip stuff of them but… I spent all of today coloring these chibis I wanna upload them ghgh-

[sunnyyflowerrs]

itafushi & work song (hozier)

major jjk 266 spoilers!!! including panels

“i was burning up a fever, i didn’t care much how long I lived, but i swear that i dreamed her, she never asked me once about the wrong idea”

“my babe would never fret none, about what my hands and my body done. if the lord don’t forgive me, i’d still have my baby and my babe would have me”

“no grave can hold my body down, i’ll crawl home to her”

[yellowjacketslesbian]

taivan as cardigan lyrics