#i promise it really is this deep these books are fucking ridiculous
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𝑺𝑯𝑨𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑩𝑬𝑫𝑺 𝑾𝑰𝑻𝑯 𝑬𝑵- !
𝘚𝘔𝘜𝘛 !! 𝘚𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴.
HEESEUNG felt all too giddy with you in the same bed as him. he couldn’t help but sneak glances and looks here and there, especially when the moon cascaded over your little body compared to his. you barely took up half the bed in comparison to him, and don’t get him started on those short shorts and tank top that did horrible jobs at hiding your modesty. by one am, your legs are thrown over the creases of his elbows, his name rolling off your tongue like a mantra as your shorts dangled just over his shoulder. he couldn’t keep his desires at bay.
SUNGHOON acted tough like sharing a bed with you was no big deal, but on the inside it was an internal battle for him not to pop a boner. that stupid moomoo you wore that accentuated your breasts and ass definitely didn’t help keep one from forming in his sweats. he promised to keep it PG tonight but when you slid into bed besides him, smelling like a fresh sweet cake he couldn’t keep his hands off of you. he pulled orgasm after orgasm from you until your moomoo was somewhere over the clouds, your chest and throat covered in hickies he’d have to explain tomorrow.
JAY was decently good at keeping his composure. he had shared a bed with you numerous times, but this time it was different because this time you were his. with your ass pressed to his pelvis, his hand underneath your top, gently fondling your right breast he tried to lull off to sleep. but your whiny moans and twitching ultimately ruined all the composure he had. flipping you onto your stomach, he mounted from behind, tearing your shorts and panties off in a slick motion for better access. the others wouldn’t let you two share a room anymore because they got no sleep with how loud you were.
JAKE purposefully made sure every trip that you two ended up together, if that meant bribing everyone with lots of money so they’d willingly book a hotel with one less room for everyone. Jake would sadly break the news to you, pouting to really add to the bit. in the end, it worked in his favor because you’d be straddling him that night, his hair between your fingers as you rode him like your life depended on it. Jungwon would end up banging on the door, asking you two to kindly “shut the fuck up.”
SUNOO was nervous every time you had to bunk with him. he’d go the extra mile to make sure you were comfortable, he wouldn’t even sleep without socks. one night, all of that flew right out of the open window when you cuddled up to him, tucking your face into his collarbone. your soft whimpers of enjoyment fueled something inside of him, he tapped your back gently. it was nothing but fireworks from that night on, blissful orgasms that made both of you see stars and shake violently against one another.
JUNGWON being the leader it was only right that he let you bunk with him. he had a set of rules that seemed to go right through the floor when you came back from a steamy shower with dewy skin and a nighty that hugged your body in all the right places. you asked him if this was alright for his “rules”, whilst smoothing your hands down your body. he sucked in a deep breath, looking towards the door before ultimately deciding whether or not he wanted to be ridiculed in the morning. needless to say, after an eventful, blissful night with Jungwon, that nighty was ripped to shreds and he had to explain what all those weird sounds were last night.
NI-KI put his cold feet up the back of your shirt and kicked you off the bed with both very large feet.
K BYE!!
actually, before i leave i wanted to say thanks for all the reblogs and likes!!! i really appreciate whomever likes and blogs, thanks a ton! and please if you feel comfortable (AND 18+ because i’m not playing) leave some requests of what you wanna see and what member !! besides ni-ki <3
#enhypen#jay#heeseung#jungwon#smut#kpop#sunghoon#sunoo#writing#ni ki#jake sim#sharingbedtrope#enhypen smut
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*slides into your inbox because HSR requests are open*
Hey Vi! I was wondering if I could request some heacanons for Sampo, Blade, and your boy Luocha with a reader who likes to play with/run their hands through the boys hair? They all have such pretty hair and I want to play with it!
Anyway take your time of course, and I hope you're doing well! Please remember to take care of yourself!
playing with their hair
✧ ɴᴏᴛᴇꜱ: ryker, yayyy, thank you for sending in a request! you made me think about sampo and realize that he's the funniest fucking character in the entire game and so much fun to write for. i had a blast with his banner too, the song fits him so well 💀🩵
btw requests are open and if you guys would like to read more of my works, check my masterlist!
✧ ɴᴏᴡ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ: carried me with you — brandi carlile
✧ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ: sampo, blade, luocha
✧ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: very slight angst in blade's (i'm so sorry, i'm trying, i promise)
Sampo loves when you play with his hair. He'd be 100% down for you trying ridiculous hairstyles on him but on a good day he'll put a pillow in your lap and puts his hands behind his head, sinking into the soft fabric. He closes his eyes when your fingertips start carding through his blue strands of hair. "This is the good life", he sighs and winks at you, "now all you'd need to do would be feeding me grapes like they do in the movies and things would be perfect." "Wait until I throw you off the couch", you shoot him a warning glare. "Hey, hey, I jest", he puts his hands up defensively and laughs.
"You know I'm lucky to have you", he takes your free hand into his and presses a kiss to your knuckles, "this is like we're straight out of a romantic piece of literature, don't you think?" You raised an eyebrow at him: "You're not exactly what I'd consider a romance novel protagonist."
He sighs. "True. I'm more like, the court jester who fell in love with the pretty royal heir", he reaches up to cup your cheek, caressing it gently with his fingertips. "And I love you for it", you laugh as he sits up to press a kiss to your lips. You bury your fingers in his hair whilst kissing back.
You take a deep breath and drift off into your own thoughts now that Sampo was quiet for a moment. A rare occurence, really.
As you enjoy this moment with your beloved, you think back to the chaos that was all over Belobog recently. "Hey, what do you think our friends from the Astral Express are doing now?", you wonder and Sampo sinks back into your lap again, resting his cheek against your stomach. "Maybe fighting a giant, strong lady with the help of a dragon, but what do I know?", he shrugs with a satisfied smile on his face. "Isn't it usually the other way around?", you raise an eyebrow. "It is, isn't it?", he puts a finger to his chin and chuckles.
You laugh and ruffle his hair. "You always have such an overactive imagination. You should write a book." "As much as I'd slay as an author, I'm just doomed by the narrative like the rest of us, darling."
Blade enjoys when you run your fingers through his hair. It's a sensation that momentarily distracts him from everything else that is going on in that busy, but tired mind of his; so it's well-appreciated.
He will not let you mess up his hair under any circumstance. Kafka calling him "Bladie", a terrible habit that rubbed off on you, was bad enough. He didn't need her and Silver Wolf to tease him about having a ponytail on top of his head with several braids going off from it, tied together with colorful hair ties.
Thankfully, you were sane enough not to attempt that.
But he does let you do a few nice hairstyles that look good on him; like a simple, long braid. He doesn't care for what he looks like after all these years of being alive but you seemed to find joy in it and it made his daily life easier sometimes to have his hair put together in a braid.
Sometimes when you sit behind him and braid his hair, you press a few teasing kisses to his neck. Unfortunately for his usually so serious demeanor, Blade is the most ticklish person you have ever met, so that's one of the only things that gets a laugh out of him; even if he didn't feel it emotionally. You brush a strand of his hair back, relishing in the sound he made so rarely; a slight tinge of sadness in your heart and a thought you didn't dare voice.
I wish I could see you laugh more... I'd do anything to make you happy.
He also lets you brush his hair every morning if you want to. His hair is so soft, as you have told him many times. He always wonders how something so simple could bring you so much joy; but he's glad that it does.
Luocha always takes good care of his hair; after all a professional appearance was important for a merchant. His hair is very soft and silky and you have a great time brushing and braiding it.
He teaches you how to do his signature hairstyle. It's quite difficult to do on his own so he appreciates that you're happy to help. This pretty much became a routine for the two of you in the morning.
Sometimes he'd try to get up at night to go to the bathroom and find you accidentally laying on his hair. He hisses an "ouch" under his breath, sometimes waking you up in the process. Once he's back in your arms, you massage his scalp and carefully run your fingers through his blond strands to make up for the painful accident.
In the morning, you tend to sit behind him and do his hair, often littering his neck and shoulders in the process. "Is this just an excuse for you to give me kisses?", he chuckles and shakes his head. "I suppose you caught me", you sigh with a smile on your face and Luocha turns his head to pull you into a deep kiss that catches you off guard. You quickly melt into the gesture, closing your eyes and noting how pleasant the taste of his lips is. You presume he applies lip balm in the morning before you do his hair but you never actually saw him do it.
When he gets home after a long day, depending on what hairstyle you did for him, his scalp hurts sometimes when you undo his braid so he loves to rest his head in your lap and have you ease brush your fingers through his hair.
#honkai star rail fluff#honkai star rail x reader#honkai star rail blade#blade x reader#blade x you#sampo x reader#sampo koski#sampo koski x reader#sampo x you#luocha x you#luocha fluff#luocha x reader#hsr luocha#luocha#sampo#hsr x reader#honkai star rail
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Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)
Series Masterlist | Previous episode
Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 8.3 K Warnings: none Prompt: It's time to set up a trap with the boys! It has to be fun, right? This IS a Wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it. Proofread by lovely @aremuslupinsimp
Chapter 60: Stone in Love
Wednesday 12th, 1977 - 12:34 AM
Lily didn’t take too long in the bathroom, and you went inside right after her. The girls had showered after arriving on the train, you, on the other hand, had only mildly gotten yourself looking decent before walking to Gringotts, and that was because you knew you had to look presentable. You suspected that after the entire mirror adventure, running around Hogsmeade like a crazy person, and making out with two boys at the same time, you urgently needed one yourself.
You looked in the mirror, and thankfully, you didn’t look as bad as you assumed you would. You did have a parted lip that you hadn’t noticed before, and your wrist was still slightly sore, but you looked brighter than you had looked in the morning. The evident sadness from then was now coexisting with a newfound joy, the tinge of someone completely in love –and happy about it– evident in some of your features. The shine in your eyes, the curve of your lips, the dreaminess of your gaze. It was almost ridiculous how much a small talk had changed the way you felt, and looked.
You took a deep breath and turned on the shower, basking in the way the warm water fell over your body, so soft and kind, so unlike the blazing fire, and the cold snow, that you almost wanted to fill the tub and stay there. You were still slightly sleepy, but the shower was enough to wake you up.
By the time you stepped out of the shower, Mary had also fallen asleep, and Lily was sitting on her bed while reading a book. “You’re leaving now?”
You nodded, and yawned, “Hopefully I’ll get some sleep after the preparations are ready.”
“Good luck,” she said and yawned.
“Sleep tight,” you replied with a smile, took James’ cloak and wrapped it around yourself, completely disappearing before her eyes. There was an air of child-like joy in Lily’s pupils as she saw you do it. She might have been immersed in the magical world for years, but every now and then, something caught her eye that reminded her of just how fascinating magic could be. People might have called the way she saw things a “muggle outlook” but Lily refused the idea of ever taking it all for granted. She loved being mesmerized by magic, and she never wanted to stop being fascinated by it. She smiled, looking at the door open and close by itself and then went back to her book.
She was trying to find a toad-repelling charm. If there was anything completely unrefutable about Lily Evans, is just how much she wanted to be prepared for any situation that she might face. And with the little to no information you had given her, she wasn’t eager to find herself surrounded or –Godric forbid– vomiting toads without being able to stop it. She really hoped it wasn’t the latter, Barty had charmed Nox like that in first year after he said something about Evan. She had been in the infirmary checking on Remus and she had to leave the room before he woke up because she too, had gotten the urge to puke. What a terrible jinx that was.
Luckily for her, having the entire school puke toads, was not on your plans, you were only trying to infest it. You walked down the stairs making as little noise as possible. You thought of using a spell to silence your steps, but it was quite late –about 40 minutes later than your original meeting plan– and there seemed to be nobody around. You walked towards the boys’ dormitories and gently knocked on their door.
“About fucking time,” Prongs whispered as he opened the door. Once it was closed, his voice went back to normal. “We were thinking you bailed on us!”
“He was, not me,” Remus said with a shrug.
“Why did you take so long, anyway?” Peter asked.
“Oreos,” you retorted. “And girl talk.”
“You talk about me with Lily?” Prongs said as he raised his eyebrow at you.
“What? Do you think girl talk is always about boys?”
“No?” He retorted, dragging that O a little too much.
You scoffed, “We did not. I’m sorry to inform you, our agendas don’t always include complaining about our boyfriends.”
“What are Oreos anyway?” Peter asked about at the same time that James murmured “Complaining about our boyfriends?” He had a frown on his face and looked terribly upset at the idea of Lily complaining about him.
You didn’t even bother to hide the smirk that had appeared on your lips. “Oh, a very muggle thing,” you retorted. The boys didn’t need to know what an Oreo was, at least not until you bought them a pack, at which point they’d be too busy delighting in them to remember that you had been late for the prank because of some cookies.
“A very muggle thing?” Remus asked, eyebrows raised, his tone clearly telling you he knew exactly what they were. Hope made an Oreo / triple chocolate cheesecake that was to diе for.
“Indeed, Moony,” you retorted as you shot him a look. “And talking about muggle things, I brought you something,” you said as you pulled out the Aero bar from your pocket. “Have you tried it?”
“Don’t think I have,” he said as he looked at the chocolate. “Thanks, Luv.”
“How come Moony always gets treats and I never do?” Sirius said with a small pout.
“Somehow I knew you would say that,” you said as you pulled out a tiny chocolate frog and placed it right in front of his mouth. “I got these at Muggle London, they don’t jump but they’re tasty. Open up.”
“That’s what he said,” James said and got a short slap from Peter who looked mortified. Somehow he was the only one in the entire group who saw you more as a girl than as a Marauder.
“Oi! What was that for?” James complained as he rubbed his arm. Meanwhile, Sirius had taken a bite out of his chocolate, you expected him to take it all in, but instead, he bit right in the middle, causing the filling to spill down his mouth and your hands. It was liquidy and it kind of looked like cough syrup.
“Oh, I guess it was blueberry,” you said as you noted the purple colour drip from your hands. You took the other half of the frog and plopped it into your mouth, “It’s actually my favourite,” you added as you licked the back of your palm. They were small kitten lips, just trying to get the stickiness out of it so you could wipe them on your shirt but somehow that had caught the attention of the two boys.
Perhaps they were too imaginative, or the kisses from a few hours ago had left them wanting more, but both boys had their mouths watering at the sight. James and Peter were still arguing in a hushed tone so neither of them noticed their gazes until you felt you were being stared at. “What?” you asked as you turned to Remus. “Got something on my face?” You eyed Sirius who was also starring.
Perhaps if Peter and James weren’t there, Sirius would have retorted with “A kiss” and jumped on you, but instead, he cleared his throat.
“Nothing. It looks like it was a good chocolate,” Remus said, somehow calmly.
“You think?” you asked as you pulled another one from your pocket and held it up to his mouth in the same way you had done with Sirius. He glanced over at Peter and James nervously, but their small discussion had turned into a relatively heated quarrel. He then eyed Sirius who nodded with a small shrug.
Remus leaned towards your hand, taking the chocolate with his teeth without breaking it, his soft lips brushing against your fingers in some kind of way that made Sirius wish he could drag the two of you somewhere private and kiss your pretty lips until he ran out of breath.
“Good, yeah?” you asked as you saw him smile mischievously as he bit the chocolate. You didn’t understand the look he and Sirius had, but he did, and he did not miss the way Sirius was looking at the two of you. First your way and then his, he never thought he’d love being the centre of attention of Sirius’ piercing eyes as much as he did right then.
“Delicious,” He replied with that same, devilish smirk. Sirius would have scoffed if he hadn’t been just as lured by him as if he had been with you.
You smiled and turned to the two boys still deep in their discussion. “Okay, that’s enough, we’ve got a spell to teach you,” you said as you placed a thick book in the centre of the small circle you had ended up in. Quite similar to the one you’d been in back in your room with the girls. The book fell down on the wooden floor with a thud so loud it snapped Peter and James out of their quarrel.
“What? I thought you were going to do it with Moony,” Peter said.
“If the school didn’t have thousands of classrooms perhaps. We’re thinking we have to split into 2 teams. The team with three takes the bigger places, such as the great hall, the courtyard, the stairs, the astronomy tower, and the longer halls, the team with two takes the other classrooms. Especially the ones with classes tomorrow, but also the empty ones in case the teachers think switching classrooms would be a solution.”
“Classes will be cancelled, no matter what,” Sirius said with a smirk.
“And is it complicated?” Peter asked with a frown.
Remus tilted his head to the side, “Well…”
“You’ll do great Wormy, I know!” You said with a thumbs up and opened the book. “What Remus and I designed was a variation on Arresto Momentum,” you explained.
“The freezing time spell,” Remus continued. “More technical versions can freeze a person before they fall to their dеath, Quidditch coaches are all taught how to perform it–”
“Simpler ones are used to freeze food in time so it does not go bad. Muggles need refrigerators and stuff for that,” you continued. “But the tricky thing with this one–”
“Is that we needed to time set them, like a bоmb. And all of them at the same time.”
Sirius was looking at the way the two of you quite literally finished each other's sentences completely in awe. While he had already been in love both with you and with Remus, the fact that he could kiss either of you mid-sentence was beyond thrilling. You were both insanely pretty, almost unfairly so. Sirius was sure you were saying something important by the way you both pointed at the book and flipped your wands in a very specific way, but he was so entranced by you that he hadn’t been listening at all.
“You got it?” You asked Peter, he was moving his wand up and down and then in a circle and saying a couple of spell words, albeit a little clumsy, he was saying the words right and making the correct movements.
“Did I?” He asked as he loosened his grip on one of the decoy swamp-bombs (the ones that had no swamp but just a little water inside). The ball stayed in its place until James grabbed it and put it in his pocket.
“James mate, that’s a–” Remus started, but you placed your hand on top of his and threw him a knowing look. A small eyebrow wiggle and a tiny little smirk. He shook his head in amusement but didn’t press further.
“Yeah?” James asked.
“A great swish and curl,” you said as you imitated the swish on his wand. “Also, I think Pete is ready too,” you smiled. “You just need to add a little more confidence with the wording,” you added as you turned to him. “It’s Arresto Momentum um debiat” you added.
“Um debiat,” Peter repeated.
“You got it, Puppy?” you asked, turning to Sirius, who only now seemed to be snapped out of his trance.
“Uh, yeah…” he replied with a confident nod, only now turning to actually look at Peter and James moving their wands and practising the new spell. He leaned towards Prongs. “What were the words again?” he asked in a whisper.
“Oh, my Merlin!” James complained. “You’re keeping this twat with you,” he added as he turned to you.
“Hm… I suppose I’ll have to take one for the team,” you said with a shrug and a smirk.
“You love having me as your team, shut up,” Sirius retorted with a playful scoff.
“Moony is going to be with us, yeah?” Peter asked.
James threw a look at Remus and smirked himself, “Don’t think so, Worms. Vixen and Moony are taking the bigger places since they’re faster with the spell. We’ll take the classrooms.”
“Oh well,” Wormy said with a sigh. “Should we hide the balls in the corners, in case someone notices them?”
“We probably should, yeah,” Remus replied. “That way even if one of us fucks with the spell they’d have to find the rest of the swamp-bombs before they actually explode.”
“Brilliant idea, Pete!” you said with a warm smile, Peter smiled confidently after that. He knew he wasn’t all that great with charms, but he got little pride from getting ideas that turned out for the best every now and then. Like the cuddles, he was still pretty shocked by how well it worked in the end.
Sirius threw you a look, not quite jealous but not quite happy about you praising Peter either. It’s not that he didn’t like Peter, but he was still kind of bothered about the PDA discussion they’d had earlier, even if he had been playing him just to get on his nerves, he wasn’t too happy about being told when he could and couldn’t kiss his girlfriend; unless it was you telling him, that is.
“Okay, then, we ready?” you asked. “Who's keeping the cloak?”
“Well, if you disillusion me and Peter, you three should have it,” James said, thinking of how cosied up you’d get under the cloak. You had been there for him every time he tried to have Lily fall in love with him. He considered his duty as your best friend (since Remus was your boyfriend now) to ensure he provided you three with lots of quality time together. Besides he hadn’t seen Remus this happy in so long, he wanted that smile to grow bigger. He wanted all of your smiles to do so. “Besides, you'll be going to the red zones.”
The red zones was a term employed by the boys to reference the areas with the most teachers and prefects around at night. Places like the library (which you would not touch because both you and Remus valued books too much to risk them being damaged by the toads), the great hall, and the grand staircase.
“Sounds like a plan,” you said with a smile and took out the wand, successfully making both boys almost completely invisible. “The swamp-bombs?”
“Under the bed,” James said as Remus pulled a small bag that had been extension charmed, and then another one. “The blue bag has the most.”
Peter leaned over –at least you assumed it was Peter, if the faintest whisp of neatly tucked hair was anything to go by– and took the purple bag. The colour of the bag faded after his hand touched it, it was almost completely gone by the time he lifted it from the floor.
James whispered something, and you didn’t even notice they were leaving until the door opened by itself and closed seconds later. “I really need to learn that silencing charm, James has truly mastered it.”
“Bet it’d come in handy,” Sirius teased, and you reproachfully threw the cloak at him, understanding full well his implication. He took the cloak and the bag and stood from the floor. “All right, we don’t have all night, we better hurry this up,” he added as he extended his hand for you to take. You stood up and then did the same for Moony who, once he was up, took the cloak from Sirius.
Remus extended it around himself and held it over his head, welcoming the two of you inside. You smiled and got in, Sirius followed with a smirk, standing almost unnecessarily close to the boy. Not that you were standing much farther. Both –per James’ prediction– had cosied up to the taller boy like you did when you were in your animagus form.
Remus tensed at first, being brought back to before you were with him, to having to worry about being caught smelling Sirius’ hair or looking at the back of your neck. And then you pulled your hand behind your back and searched for his, taking it in yours and giving it a gentle, reassuring squeeze. He relaxed almost instantly, smiled and squeezed your hand softly in retort. Since you’d kept the cloak, Peter and Remus had gotten the map. That meant you’d have to be extra careful while walking around the school.
If only we had two of those, you thought as you walked towards the door. Remus held his finger to his mouth, and for a few seconds, your breaths were the only thing either you or Remus could hear. “It’s empty, let’s go,” Remus said and Sirius opened the door. The three of you stepped out and in a matter of seconds were out of the door.
The hall was empty, Remus was set to patrol that night, along with Frank Longbottom, the Gryffindor head boy whom you hadn’t met yet –at least officially, you’d seen him around– but was kind of close to the boys. And Remus had convinced him he’d take care of the prefect’s duties. According to Remus, Frank was trying to sway a girl named Alice (not the one you knew, a different one) and he was going to be working on writing her a letter all night.
“What do you even do when you patrol?” asked Sirius after he yawned, you instantly did the same. It was as if the sleep that you’d gotten after drinking the cookies was coming back to you, slightly stronger than before.
“We literally just walk until the clock ticks midnight and then we come back to our rooms,” Remus said. “Frank talks a lot about spells, he’s a little clumsy like Peter, but he’s really clever regardless. When I’m with Lily we just discuss things like what we saw in class or the themes of our essays. Sometimes we just talk about muggle stuff,” he retorted. He was speaking low, not quite in a whisper, but enough for it to be muffled by the cloak. James had added a sound-blocking spell to it, it wasn’t strong, but it was enough to cover for words as soft as Remus’.
“Where are we going first?” you asked, holding back another yawn. You knew Sirius would instantly tease you if he noticed you were sleepy, and while you didn’t hate his teasing, you didn’t want Remus to have the impression his new partners were childish.
“Great Hall?” Sirius asked.
“We want them to go off in class, I was thinking we could have those set a little later, you know how Dumbledore loves taking the students to the Great Hall in a contingency.”
“Imagine! They think it’s safe, and boom, toads!” Sirius added.
“How do you even know about the contingency plans?” you asked with a frown.
“We’ve caused a couple of them,” Sirius retorted with a smug smirk. “How does it feel to really be a troublemaker in the end?”
“I sometimes feel it’s your madness rubbing off on me, you know?” You retorted and Sirius gasped.
“Speak softer,” Remus chided when he heard a portrait yawn in the background. “I was thinking we could do the stairs first. Prefects are rarely there.”
“What about the portraits?” You asked, tilting your head. “They can be as bad as the Peeves when it comes to ratting someone out.”
“Nah, they won’t bother you as long as you don’t wake them up, most of them just take the time to relax,” Remus responded with a shrug. “If anything happens I’ll just tell them I caught you sneaking and I’ll report you.”
“Who would have thought it’d be so convenient to have the law in your pockets,” you said with a teasing smile and got a slight shove from Remus. “And we didn’t even have to bribe him!”
“Oh, if I have to pull the Perfect card, you’re most definitely gonna have to make it up to me.”
You eyed Sirius, it was dark but the slight shine on his eyes was unmistakable, he was, like you, eager for something like that to happen.
“Should we split to cover more ground?” you asked as you stared down at the massive staircase.
“It would be the best…” Remus said hesitantly. He clearly didn’t want you to pull away from him.
“Promise I’ll be thinking of you,” you said, placing a short kiss on his cheek and disillusioning yourself. You exited the cloak with about 15 small balls hidden all over your pockets. You walked towards one end of the stairway and started to perform the spell over the small little balls. They looked almost kike gobstones, which was great since, even if they were visible, they wouldn’t be all that suspicious.
“Aren’t you going too?” Remus asked Sirius when the boy grabbed some of the balls from the bag and placed them in his pocket.
“Thought I’d see you do it a couple of times to make sure I got the hang of it,” Sirius said as casually as he could.
Remus groaned in return, “You so weren’t paying attention to either of us when we explained.”
Sirius didn’t even try to deny it, “You both looked too pretty, I’m sorry.” He didn’t miss the blush that crept up on Remus’ neck when he said it. “So, pretty boy, care to teach me?”
“Are you serious?” Remus dеadpanned. Regretting his words as they came out of his mouth.
The other boy’s smile grew wider, “As a matter of fact, I–”
“You have to flick your wand to the right, to the left, do a swish and then flick it again, towards 9 o’clock though. You got the words, yeah?”
“Rude,” Sirius said with a small pout and followed Remus’ instructions seamlessly. Moony was almost jealous of how easy it was for Sirius to do it. You and he had taken so long to develop the spell for him to come and master it in seconds.
“Like this?”
“You’re just a show off,” Remus retorted as he pushed Sirius lightly, but the other boy just took the chance to hold on to Remus’ hand and pull him closer. Both still under the cloak.
“Allow me to thank you, Professor Moony,” he said flirtatiously, planting a short kiss on the boy’s lips and slipping off the cloak with a disillusionment charm.
Remus had to take some time to recover, blinking and staring at nowhere in particular, only being brought back by the moving of the stair underneath him. He was taken by surprise and lost his balance for a mere second before he remembered where he was and what he was meant to be doing. He tried not to think so much about the fact that he could literally walk up to you or Sirius and kiss you and how you would happily return the kiss, because if he did, then he might as well call the whole prank off and bring the two of you back to the room now that Peter and James weren’t around.
By the time you were done with placing your swamp-bombs and turned to look for the boys, you realised just how hard it would be to find them now that everyone was using some kind of invisibility magic. You looked around for a while, trying to spot something that could reveal it, but it was almost useless, there was no way you’d spot either of them. You resorted to trying to use your other senses.
You took in a deep breath, trying to channel Vixen’s sense of smell, but while you had gotten much better at transfigurations, and you had managed to do things like getting those fangs out and ripping your skin, you were not so good as to be able to just do that, not without turning into Vixen at least. You were just about to do that when you remembered that you didn’t have to solely rely on your senses, but that you could rely on theirs too.
“Remus,” you whispered. “Hey, Remus! Where are you? I’m done.” You blinked a few times, looking around to see if you spotted any sort of odd movement, and you thought you saw something move in the background when you felt a pair of hands grab you from behind and drag you inside the cloak. You sucked in a breath, and his hand was over your mouth in a second.
“Shhh,” he whispered to your ear soothingly. “It’s me, Little Witch.”
“Holy shit, Rem, why the hell from behind?”
“I was there,” he replied with a shrug. “You seen Sirius?”
“Thought I saw something move over there,” you said pointing at a stair that was moving on the other corner. Remus leaned closer to you, his head almost resting on your shoulder as he looked at the point you referred to. He was squinting his eyes in the direction of your finger, not realising how close he had gotten to you or perhaps he would have gotten as nervous as you were.
But it was the good kind of nervous, the sort of heart-fluttering sensation that you got when you are close to the person that you like so much. While both Sirius and Remus had realised their feelings for each other and for you a while ago, you were just now noticing how much you liked Remus, and how many things about him you liked romantically. It was like being brought back to the Slug Party where you weren’t able to stop ogling him.
He really was outstandingly pretty, so much that you wanted to kiss him. “You know Rem…”
“Mhm?” he asked, tilting his head slightly as if trying to see better, while his eyes weren’t on you, he looked comfortable with the closeness.
“Sirius and I have a bit of a tradition…” Now he turned to you, eyebrows knit. “It seems like whenever we’re on a stealth mission,” you added, turning your face to his as well, you were standing so close that your noses were pretty much brushing against each other. “Something comes over the two of us, and we end up doing the most outrageous thing.”
“Like getting caught?” He teased.
You scoffed, “Of course not! We’ve never gotten caught.”
“What about that time at the Slytherin’s?”
“He got caught, I didn’t!” You retorted, He raised an eyebrow as if to remind you that the only reason you hadn’t gotten caught was because he had been there to stop you. He had been tempted to kiss you then, perhaps as tempted as he was now. “But that’s not it.”
“Then?”
“Well when the tension rises,” you leaned a little closer to him, “and the adrenaline is in the air–” Your mouth was centimetres away from his, “we tended to–”
You didn’t even finish, Remus got the idea and he was more than eager to join your little tradition. He was the one to close the gap, your lips crashing against his in a rather urgent manner. As if he was trying to kiss you for every time he had wished he could and had to restrain himself. He tasted like chocolate and cherry wine (probably because of the filling of the chocolate frog he got earlier).
Despite his urgency, it was you the one who bit his lower lip and pressed your tongue against his mouth. He was quick to part them and chase your tongue with his, there was something about the way he kissed you that made your knees weak, in the same way that Sirius’ kisses did. Like you wanted to melt into him, allow him to mould you to his body instead of moulding him to yours. But then there was the other part of you, the one that didn’t like losing control and fought back for it, your hand rushing to the back of his neck and pulling him down to you while allowing your hands to play with his hair. It was much shorter than Sirius’ but that didn’t mean you couldn’t pull on it just slightly.
He moaned into the kiss when you did and it was hard for you to hold back the smile as you separated for air. You were about to go back to kiss him when you heard a door shut from the side. You pulled apart from and looked towards it, biting your cheek to swallow the gasp you would have instinctively made.
“It’s Severus,” you whispered as you stared at the greasy-haired boy. He was walking with his head held high, his Prefect badge, perfectly polished adorning his chest. You rolled your eyes and turned to Remus again, his lips were rosy and he was also panting a little, you never thought he could look prettier and here he was, all kissed out and looking like a prince. “You find Sirius?”
Remus turned to you with eyebrows raised. He was too busy finding your lips to look for Sirius. “We have to distract him,” you mouthed, not daring to speak any louder, despite the charms the cloak had, you couldn’t risk it. You were not going to get caught by Severus Snape, of all people.
“How?” He asked.
You smiled mischievously at that. “Insecti,” you whispered, effectively conjuring about 4 thick flies, directing them straight towards his hair. Remus looked at you with interest, while the flies buzzed about all around Severus.
“Go away!” the Slytherin said as he frantically waved his hands over his head. Hitting one of them with the back of his hand but still being followed by the rest. “I said go away!” He said again, much more irritated. He was going up a flight of stairs, and you knew he wasn’t distracted enough to fall, regardless you were keeping a very close eye on him. Finally, he took out his wand, and the moment he did you pulled just the tip of yours from the cloak.
You smiled, “Mucus ad nauseam,” you whispered this time. He sneezed.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” he said as he took out a handkerchief to stop his runny nose. It was a simple spell that you found in one of those trick books the boys had to sneak out of the restricted section. “It must be the fucking flies,” he complained again.
Remus threw you a diverted look and you winked his way. Severus sneezed again, waking one of the portraits. “Shhhh,” the man said by placing his hand over his mouth. “Some of us are trying to sleep.”
“It’s not like I can control them,” Severus muttered under his breath, and then sneezed again, this time a little louder. Just to piss him off. But he inadvertently woke up a couple more of the portraits.
They had already started whispering about, a lady in a horse shushing him while on another one, two men that had been playing chess started discussing his outrageous behaviour. “Who’s responsible for this squawking?” a man with an Auror uniform asked. Severus sneezed again. “Ah, it’s the Slytherin kid, of course, it’s the Slytherin kid,” Said Lady McDougal as she pointed at him.
Severus rolled his eyes, trying to hold his next sneeze while also hitting one of the flies with his hand. Remus turned to you, pulling out his own wand and pointing it towards him. “Sonorus,” he whispered.
“Stupid ancient portraits, they should start minding their own fucking business,” he muttered again. Except this time, Remus’s charm had made his voice a lot louder. So loud that instead of a whisper to himself, as he intended, his voice resonated all over the Grand Staircase. He froze, looking around the portraits as he gulped.
“Who are you calling ancient?” A very old man asked from the right wall. “I thought you’d be wiser since you’re a member of my house.”
Severus was about to apologise, but he sneezed instead. “And he won’t stop making noise even after we asked him!” the portrait that had shushed him first added.
Some portraits were looking at him with disapproving glances, others were muttering among themselves while, the most outspoken ones, were straight up telling him off.
“Cannot believe the prerequisites for becoming a Perfect have stump so low that someone like you has gotten the honour,” a man with curly black hair added. “When I was the Headmaster of this fine institution you could only achieve such a position by being at the epitome of the student body. Only truly exemplary students…”
“Shut up Nigellus,” another portrait said. “Nobody liked you when you were Headmaster!”
“He kind of reminds me of…” you muttered as you looked at the portrait of Nigellus, who had now engaged in a heated discussion with the portrait of a Quidditch player.
“Nigellus Black,” Remus said with a smile. “He’s nothing like our Sirius but he’s got those pretty eyes of his.”
“Should have known…” you smiled as you turned to him.
Severus sneezed again, successfully driving the attention –and anger– of the quarrelling portraits towards himself.
“Well boy, what are you still doing here? Go lock yourself in your common room or something!” Nigellus said, you snickered, covering your mouth with your hands to avoid making a sound.
Severus wiped his runny nose with his sleeve. “BIoody portraits!” He said as he rushed towards one of the halls, and away from the stairs.
“BIoody portraits,” one of them mocked in a high-pitched tone as he passed by. It was the portrait of a younger boy, and he didn’t think twice before flicking his index and middle finger at him.
“Let us sleep!” an old lady with a flower dress shouted from the very top.
Severus cursed under his breath as he shut the door, loud enough to get cursed again by the rest of the portraits. “Slytherins,” Lady McDougal said with a sigh, “It had to be one of them.”
Another lady agreed with her while some Slytherin wizards shook their heads in disapproval. Meanwhile, you and Remus couldn’t stop eyeing each other with a satisfied and diverted look. That’s when you saw green sparks coming from one of the doors.
“Is that the Slytherin boy again?” One of the portraits asked.
“Let’s go,” you said, knowing full well it had been Sirius and not a Slytherin. By the time you and Remus got close enough, you could distinguish his beautiful black curls through his disillusionment charm. Remus extended the cloak around him and suddenly the three of you were back in the little safe heaven James’ invisibility cloak provided.
“That little act of yours was brilliant,” Sirius said with a smirk in a low tone. “Where next?”
“The Great Hall,” Remus said. The three of you made your way towards it, stopping by the library before you got there. “We should probably lock it…”
“Or they’ll try to give classes inside,” Sirius added.
“A simple locking spell won’t be enough,” You said and took a deep breath. “What if we disappear it?”
“What?” Remus asked with a frown. “How?”
��We could hide it,” Sirius said with a nod. “Make it seem like it has disappeared even if it’s still there.”
“Exactly, something close to a disillusionment charm, but for things.”
“And then we could fill it up with something like escargot slime, nobody would want to get close to it.”
“Snail,” you said before Remus even threw you a confused look. You had no idea why Sirius would remember the French word (which was far more complicated) than the English one but one time you had forgotten how to say spoon and went for cuchara instead. You turned to Sirius, “Where would we even get snail slime, though?”
“Don’t worry about that,” he said with a smile and turned to the massive library doors. He took in a deep breath and cast a disillusionment charm, followed by you and then Remus. The door had completely disappeared after the third spell. Sirius smiled and turned to the door. “Cochlea bitumine,” he said, suddenly there was a green, snot-like slime all over the floor and wall. You sighed, it didn’t stink, but the smell was rather potent.
You took a swamp-bomb from Remus’ pockets and stared at it for a second, “I think they’ll rather enjoy this ambience,” you smiled and hid it inside the smile, while you avoided touching the viciousness of it altogether. Then you whispered the words of the spell. Sirius imitated you, and you ended up hiding about 6 of them just in the area.
The great hall remained pretty empty at night, you had never been there, but the boys were familiar enough, apparently, the ghost didn’t really like being there when there wasn’t people, there were no portraits, and while the charms in the sky became a little fickle when there were people there after hours, it much easier, once you were inside.
The complicated part was getting in. Since that’s where the Prefects gathered before and after their patrol, it was much harder to get through the open halls that took you inside. Lucky for you, you had taken the cloak, which meant your life would be made easier.
“Ready?” Sirius asked with a smile. You were standing just below the stairs, and peering up at the hall. There were three Hufflepuff prefects there. You recognized one of them as Alex Wood’s classmate, but you weren’t familiar with the rest.
“We could try to distract them first?“ you said.
“But then they would know someone’s out and about, and James and Peter would have people looking for them, they have no cloak.”
“Then we become as stealthy as ninjas,” Sirius said with a confident nod. He’d been reading some Daredevil comics Andromeda had sent him and he had been fascinated by the idea of them.
“I could turn into Vixen.” You shrugged, “they would never figure out I’m a student and not just a rogue fox.”
“It’s not as believable as if Wormtail did it…” Remus replied as he shook his head.
You were still discussing strategies when a ghost mounting a horse came in screaming through the side. “Someone has been in the classrooms,” he roared. You grabbed both boys’ hands and dragged them towards the great hall as the Hufflepuff scattered from the door and tried to talk to the very altered ghosts.
“I guess they’ve been discovered,” Sirius whispered as you all arrived at the Great Hall.
“Mhm,” you agreed. “We need to be more careful now.”
“Perhaps not quite,” Remus said thoughtfully. “They’ll probably go talk to the portraits, and Severus was the one causing a mess, so they might pin the classroom incident on him too.”
“Sir Pendragon would have said Potter and Pettigrew were there if he had spotted them. He’d take any chance to drag either of us down.”
“Huh? Why?” you asked curiously.
“Peter thought it would be funny to share a rumour about him in second year. He told everyone he didn’t lose his head on a joust, but that it had been eaten by a Wilddeoren,” Remus explained.
“They were a lot more common back in the day,” Sirius added. “Anyway, I think Sr. Nicholas found out it had been Peter and told Sir. Pendragon since he wanted to join the headless hunt. The man has hated all of us since then.”
You laughed and shook your head. “You should make friends with the ghosts, not make them your enemies.” Sirius just shrugged, smiling and sending you one of those winks of his. He then pulled some orbs from his pocket and placed them on your hand. “Ready to cause mischief?”
“Definitely,” you retorted with a smile, placing them in your pockets and then grabbing another handful. You disillusioned yourself before stepping out of the comfortable warmth of the cloak and walked to the back of the hall. You did hear the uneasy rumbling of the ceiling, as if it knew someone was around when they shouldn’t be, but you ignored it until you got all the way to the teacher’s table. You placed swamp-bombs underneath it, three by the windows and some on the closer gargoyles. Meanwhile, Sirius and Remus were making sure all the tables had swamp-bombs underneath them. And for good measure, they also hid a couple next to the floating candles.
Once you were done, you all reunited back in the same spot near the door, it was Remus –who still had the cloak– the one that dragged you inside as soon as he spotted you, or rather, smelled you, since he’d managed to do that way before the saw through your disillusionment charm.
“Hey,” you said with a smile once he pulled you to him.
“Hey,” he responded, like the idiot in love he was. You smiled, as you looked up at him, and he leaned in to press a short, quick kiss on your lips. “Sirius is on his last bomb.”
“How do you know?” you whispered.
“I counted them,” he told you with a shrug.
“No wonder he calls us nerds,” you said with an amused scoff. You were both pulling Sirius into the cloak mere minutes later.
“Where to now?” He asked with a smile, Remus was tempted to press a kiss onto his lips as well but decided perhaps right at that instant it wouldn’t be proper. Not that either of the three cared too much about proper, but Remus still had more common sense than the two of you.
“The tower,” you said as you yawned.
“You tired?” Sirius teased. You blinked and shook your head in response. Not that you didn’t have perfect reasons to be tired, but the idea of falling asleep in the middle of a prank was so absurd to you, that being tired –no matter how sleepy you actually were– seemed preposterous.
Sirius tightened his lips as he tried to hold back a smile, he had known this for a while, but when you were sleepy, you got into a cuddly mood, and when you were in a cuddly mood, he got to be as clingy as he wanted to be. He wondered if he’d be able to hug you and Remus at the same time later that night, without having to turn into Padfoot, and picture how amazing that might be.
“You think they’re outside still?” You asked as you leaned your ear on the door.
“They’re not,” Remus said confidently. “Even the portraits are asleep now.”
“Good,” you said as you cast a silencing spell on the door and pushed it open. “Let’s go!”
The portraits at the Great Hall were also much calmer now, which is why you tried to be as quiet as possible as you climbed up the stairs that would lead you to the Astronomy Tower. “Looks like they’re already falling asleep,” Sirius said. “You think they’re still mad at Snape?”
“They won’t get over being called ancient anytime soon,” Remus said with a smile. “And with how much they gossip, they might turn the rest of the portraits in the castle against him as well.” You let out a low giggle after that and covered your mouth almost in an instant. When you heard one of the portraits wake up the three of you threw a look at each other and rushed towards the tower as fast and stealthily as you could.
Once you got to the stairs you looked up, it was a rather long stairwell, leading all the way to Professor Spellman’s territory. The divination classroom was dark and gloomy at night. There was a rather faint light coming from the window, but the classroom was only lit by a single black flamed candle. Spellman had talked about that in a previous class.
According to him, black flame candles were better than normal candles in divination spaces because they didn’t disturb the light from stars as much.
“Lumos,” Sirius said and pulled out the tip of his wand from the cloak. “I don’t think there’s any ghost here now,” he whispered as he turned to you.
“Prefects don’t come here often either. They do check the top of the observatory, but that’s just because some people use it to make out.”
“Oh, really?” You said with a smirk, managing to shake off the sleepiness a bit more.
“Don’t get any funny ideas,” Sirius told you and you pouted as you looked at him.
“You’re the one with the funny ideas most of the time,” you retorted. Remus shook his head in amusement, took some of the swamp-bombs and handed them over to the two of you.
“Focus, we can discuss those funny ideas once we’re done.”
Sirius turned to you with an eyebrow raised and a smirk that you retorted with a raise of an eyebrow and a similarly satisfied smile. After the small exchange, the two of you went on your way to set up the classroom. Once you were done, the three of you stepped out and went straight to the observatory. You split up again, this time not bothering to disillusion yourselves, and started placing some swamp-bombs all over the place.
When you were done, you walked over to one of the small lookout spaces and leaned both of your arms on the railing, looking out towards the Black Lake. It was the same railing in which Evan had threatened you not so long ago. If someone had told you then that he would save your life months later you would have called them crazy. And here you were, in that same railing, thinking of how sudden the change had been.
You took a deep breath, trying not to let thoughts of that night cloud over your happy ones, “What is it?” Remus asked as he approached you, leaning close enough that your shoulders bumped into each other.
“Nothing,” you said almost in a whisper. He raised one of his eyebrows. “Everything,” you sighed and then yawned. “Godric! Why am I so damn sleepy,” you asked as you rested your head on his shoulder. “It isn’t even that late...”
Remus turned to his watch, “It’s almost 2,” he said.
You yawned again. “I didn’t even wake up that early,” you complained. Your eyes were closing on themselves, and Remus was tall, warm and so reassuring that your eyes almost refused to stay open.
“But you had one hell of a day,” he retorted softly.
You hummed in response. “That indeed,” you yawned. “But still, there’s something weird about it…” you said with a long sigh. Remus was thinking of an answer when he felt a little bit more of your weight reclining against him. He turned towards you only to notice your evened-out breath and completely relaxed expression.
“Little Witch?” he whispered, the lack of response confirmed his hypothesis, you had fallen asleep as you reclined into him. Remus smiled, looking at your slightly parted lips as you breathed in and out the chilly winter air. He wasn’t sure he had ever had the time to look at it from such an angle.
Not that you hadn’t already used his shoulder as a headrest, but he had never felt comfortable just blatantly staring, in case someone else was watching, in case somebody noticed how irrevocably in love he was with you. But you knew it now, and Sirius knew it too, and you were both okay with it. So he stared, at your lashes, and your nose, and the curve of your lips, like he was seeing you for the first time, even if he had been dreaming with them for months now.
The snow was gently falling outside, the lake shimmered with the reflection of the stars and the forest was as dark and alluring as ever. But not even the beautiful, shimmering stars in the sky were lovely enough to divert his attention from you. He was in a trance so deep that he didn’t even hear the steps from behind.
“Hey Moony did you–”
“Shhhh,” Remus said softly, turning to Sirius as he rushed a finger over his mouth. “She’s fallen asleep.”
Sirius frowned and tilted his head, you had never fallen asleep in the middle of a prank. “Don’t you think that’s weird?” Sirius whispered.
“With the day she had?” Remus retorted. “It might just be the only thing she’s done that makes any sense.”
Sirius shook his head with a smile, “It’s not the only thing,” he retorted, leaning in closer to Remus, and laying his head on the boy’s free shoulder. “She got us together, and we make sense together.”
It was almost ironic, that when Remus finally managed to rip his gaze away from you, it was only to look at Sirius. Sirius with his confident smile and sparkling eyes, he would have sworn they were shinier than the stars and the shimmering reflection of the crescent moon in the black lake. The snow might have been falling like glitter in the water and dissolving into sparkly droplets of dew, but his eyes were lost on the endless grey of his best friend, his boyfriend. Remus smiled, “Yeah, we make sense together.”
Series Masterlist | Next Chapter
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Oh No, There’s Only One Bed
Bradley Bradshaw x reader 2k words summary: The hotel is all booked out and now you have to share a room with Bradley Bradshaw. Worse, you have to share a bed.
there’s not much plot in this. so like dont get your hopes up. im not happy with how it turned out
prequel to “Oh No, There's An Arm Around My Waist”, can be read seperately tho
top gun masterlist
“You have got to be kidding me.”
You couldn’t help yourself, already regretting the words once they’d left your mouth. The poor receptionist played no part in this - it wasn’t his fault. You weren’t usually this rude to hotel staff.
“I’m sorry ma’am, but we’re all booked out for tonight. It’s a twin room or no room at all.”
“C’mon, we can make it work.”
You looked up at Bradley like he was out of his mind. And he even had the audacity to grin at you. “It’s just one night.”
“You can’t be serious.”
You couldn’t believe that he was actually supporting this dumb fucking idea. “We can’t share a room. We can’t share a bed, Bradshaw.”
He raised his eyebrows and you bit your lip, mentally roundhouse-kicking yourself in the face. Why did you have to be so obviously avoidant? Your fight-or-flight was kicking in at the mere proposal. It was too obvious. Were normal people as desperately opposed to the idea of sharing a bed with a friend? Probably not. So why the fuck were you?
Because maybe Bradley was not just a friend.
Because maybe you were totally in love with him. And because maybe you’d rather die than ever admit that and get rejected.
“I mean-” You scrambled for words, for a quick excuse that would make sense, that would save you from at least some of the embarrassment. “You know, like, we’re friends. Friends don’t share a bed.”
Welp, that did not work. Horrible miss. Dart stuck in the wall-kind of miss.
“I’ll build a pillow wall if that makes you feel better”, Bradley promised, failing to hide his amusement. You clenched your jaw.
You shouldn’t. You really shouldn’t.
“There’s other hotels”, you tried, desperate to find a different solution.
“Yeah”, he nodded, almost too enthusiastically. “Sure. Because those aren’t booked out.”
Alright. So maybe he had a point.
The only options here were sleeping on the floor of a subway station in San Diego or sharing a bed with him. And the fact that you actually took two seconds debating whether getting chlamydia would be worth not having to sleep pressed up against Bradley’s (warm and very comfortable) chest in a clean bed told you enough about just how far you’d fallen for him already. You were in too deep. And after tonight, you’d be a goner.
But you really, really did not want to spend the night on the subway.
“Fuck this”, you muttered, turning back to the poor receptionist who looked like he’d rather be on the subway getting chlamydia himself than here and forcefully smiled at him. “We’ll take the room, thank you.”
...
The door swung open and you blindly reached for the light switch, flipping it on before trudging into the room with your suitcase in one hand and the keys in the other.
You parked the suitcase in some random corner, threw your jacket onto the tiny table and looked up only to see that Bradley had already claimed the left side of the bed, arms and legs spread out, eyes closed. There was a lump in your throat as you watched him breathe that should not have been there. Neither should the flutter in your tummy. Neither should the heat in your cheeks when he opened his eyes and caught you staring.
“This is like some fucked up scene straight out of a shitty rom-com”, you complained - the only thing you knew how to do so you wouldn’t drool. He looked way too attractive doing literally nothing. You were not okay with that. Especially now that you had to share the bed with him.
He tucked his hands behind his head (his biceps flexed ridiculously) and chuckled.
“You love rom-coms”, he reminded you.
“Yeah, but only good ones with actual plot and characters that have personality.”
(This was, in itself, an absolute and total lie and Bradley definitely knew that. He was right - you loved rom-coms. You loved all of them. Especially the shitty ones with no plot whatsoever except “Oh we’re two idiots in love”. But you’d thought it would be much more fun if life played out like that - you hadn’t thought it would be like this.)
“You’re a bad liar”, he laughed, propping himself up on his elbows to get a better look at you.
“Am not”, you protested. He hummed.
“You definitely are.”
Then he patted the other side of the bed again. “Stop pouting and get in.”
You rolled your eyes and turned away from him, bending down to put your suitcase on the ground and undo the zipper.
“Gotta change first, Bradshaw. You can build that pillow wall while I’m in the bathroom.”
His chuckle followed you even as you closed the door behind you half a minute later and it took you longer than it should have to change into pajamas - shout out to your shaking hands - partly because you spent five minutes brushing your teeth, looking at yourself in the mirror and trying to calm your nerves by telling your reflection all kinds of reassurances. (”It’s just one night” and “If you stay on your side you won’t even know he’s there” and “You’ll both be asleep anyway”)
You almost had a heart attack when you left the bathroom again.
Because yes, Bradley was still in bed, and that in itself was stressful enough. But mainly because he’d kicked the covers to his feet and his pajamas, if one could call it that, consisted only of his briefs.
At least he had the decency to look apologetic.
“Sorry”, he said, gesturing at himself. “I don’t have sleepwear with me. I usually sleep naked.”
Because of course he did. Of course Bradley fucking Bradshaw slept naked.
“Uh”, you managed, mind completely blank. You were very, very much aware of the fact that you should say something. You just did not have the mental capacity to come up with anything whatsoever.
There was a goddamn Adonis in your bed.
If you’d thought you weren’t wearing much before (because you really weren’t, you’d expected San Diego to be warm and had only packed a skimpy little nightgown) then Bradley was wearing literally nothing.
And, well, he kind of was wearing nothing.
Couldn’t he at least have kept the covers up? But no. You knew him. He was basically a live heating pad. He’d die if he pulled them up.
“Okay”, you eventually managed to croax out, forcing your feet to work, to carry you to the right side - your side - of the bed, to flick on the lamp on your bedside table and turn off the big one, all without thinking. “Yeah, no worries.”
“Good.” He nodded his head for what had to be the better part of ten full seconds. “Good.”
The silence felt awkward. You were just sitting on the edge of the bed and he was propped up on his elbows on his side, staring holes into the air, not saying anything. Eventually he cleared his throat.
“Wanna, like, sleep?”
“Oh, yeah.” You busied yourself with the covers so you wouldn’t have to look at him, carefully sliding underneath them. “Yeah, we probably should.”
Only the rustling of the sheets filled the room until you were finally lying flat on the mattress, head resting on the pillow, and then there was silence again and you wanted to scream. This was more uncomfortable than anything else had ever been with him. Usually it was easy and light and that was why you liked him so much, that was why the two of you had initially become friends at all, but this... this was so heavy. Like something looming over the two of you that neither was addressing, just staring at it, aware that it was there but not doing anything about it.
This time, you cleared your throat, reached for the bedside lamp and turned that off too. The room was dark without it. You could only make out his contours next to you, hear the sound of his breath.
“Good night then”, you whispered, listening as his sheets rustled as well as he lay back, turning onto his side so that he was facing you. For a moment you felt the urge to do the same, but before you could even think about moving you were already swatting the idea away with an imaginary broom and locking it out of your imaginary house. Like hell you were gonna face him. Nuh-uh. You’d rather take the subway and the chlamydia after all.
“Good night”, he said softly, adjusting his hands one final time before the quiet of the night enveloped the two of you.
You tried to even your breathing, to focus on anything but him so close to you. You needed to sleep and you needed to sleep quick. But your mind was racing, your heart was beating so fast and so loud that you could hear it, your skin was burning up and you felt like you were about to lose it.
You managed about five minutes before you turned away from him, onto your side, in hopes that that would make it better.
It didn’t.
Five minutes after that, you tried lying on your stomach. Which, to nobody’s surprise, worked no better. It took almost fifteen minutes for you to find the courage to turn onto your right side, to turn so that you were facing him after all. He hadn’t moved an inch.
In fact, he hadn’t tried to sleep at all.
When you turned and caught sight of him (bare chest and messy hair and fuck) you almost screamed. His eyes were wide open, watching you, reflecting the little moonlight that was flooding through the windows.
“Jesus”, you whispered, pressing a hand to your chest as he grinned, his face mere inches from yours. “Bradley, you scared the hell out of me.”
He didn’t even react to that.
“Can’t sleep?”, he asked instead. He was so close that you could feel his breath on your skin when he spoke. You had to swallow.
“No”, you admitted. For a moment you thought maybe he hadn’t heard you, maybe he’d fallen asleep, but then he moved his arms and you felt a shiver down your spine when his fingertips brushed over the exposed skin of your arms. He wrapped one arm around your waist, his palm resting on the small of your back, and pulled you closer to him. So close that your knees bumped into his thighs. So close that your hands bumped into his torso. So close that your nose bumped into his throat.
All of them were innocent touches: chaste, easy, light. His skin was barely grazing yours. But they were enough.
Enough to go crazy over. Enough to hold your breath for a good half minute.
“Relax”, he muttered, his other hand threading through your hair and holding you just as close as the one on your back.
You swallowed hard.
“Bradley”, you murmured, not knowing just yet what you were going to say. Maybe you would have pulled away. Or maybe you would have bit the bullet and, for once in your life, taken the chance - maybe you would’ve told him right then and there just what you felt for him. Because friends certainly didn’t do this.
“We’ll talk tomorrow”, he muttered, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head and immediately silencing your inner monologue. “Tomorrow. Just sleep for now.”
#top gun#x reader#top gun x reader#bradley bradshaw#bradley bradshaw x reader#rooster#rooster x reader#bradley rooster bradshaw#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader
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Forbidden Fruit Part 4
Description: Your relationship with Eddie is all consuming. How will you deal with the aftermath?
A/N: I love this series, this Eddie, and you lot. You're beautiful and I love you. My God, comments and reblogs are my lifeblood, please comment, please reblog. I’m not always responding due to my mental health but I see you and I love you I promise.
Warnings: NSFW, Minors DNI, this isn’t for you babies, p in v unprotected sex (surely you know this by now) Age gap, Eddie is 43, reader is 21. Violence, I’m not saying more I don’t want to ruin it ;)
4k words
Masterlist Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 5
Light dapples through the hotel curtains, uncovering swirling dust motes in the air, dancing in front of your vision. Yawning, you feel warmth and safety; Eddie's side flush with yours, your legs entwined in a sleepy embrace.
His breathing is slow and deep. As your hand rests lightly on his chest, you can feel it. In, and out. It's comforting, a comfort that reaches into your bones and warms them from the inside out; your entire being at peace. The skin on his chest is soft, a slight spackling of chest hair lays under your hand. Unconsciously, you're already running your hand through it, fingers stroking his inked chest.
Hair splayed on the pillow underneath him in an angel's halo, his lines are finer, relaxed. He looks so peaceful and content that it makes your heart swell. A smile plays at your lips, one that touches every part of you. A perfect moment.
The steady breathing changes, and he moves beneath you, a rough hand reaching up to stroke your shoulder.
"Mornin' sweetheart."
His voice is gruffer than usual, enriched with sleep, the deeper cadence unknown to you before this moment. God, you would do anything to hear it every morning.
"Morning baby." Returning his greeting with a croaky one of your own, he wraps his arms around you tighter, almost possessively.
"This is nice."
You purr your approval, tightening your own grip around him.
"So, breakfast?" You ask.
"Five more minutes." He replies, pulling you on top of him to deepen the hug.
********************
The day was spent together, being the couple you never got to be in the real world. Breakfast at the hotel was delicious, you held hands until it got in the way of eating. Then a drive, where he took you shopping and bought you a dress just for you to wear tonight. You told him you'd pay for it but he insisted. Lunch at a quaint cafe in town was just perfect. Then a walk, arm in arm as you explored the place.
Back at the hotel, you were taking advantage of the suite he'd booked, soaking in an enormous bubble bath you're pretty sure you could do a few laps in. You had invited Eddie to join you, but in his words, 'if that happens we're never gonna eat dinner sweetheart.'
Drying off, you get ready for your date tonight. The other bra and panty set you bought just for Eddie resides under the beautiful purple satin dress he had bought you, along with your own hold ups and heels. Piling your hair high on your head in the fanciest updo you can manage without a team of hairdressers, you frown at your reflection. Not perfect, but good enough.
Mascara, a soft eyeshadow, and a lipstick to compliment your skin tone completes the look. Transfer proof, of course. You were going to dinner with Eddie after all.
As you're spritzing perfume, you hear Eddie's deep muffled voice from the other room.
"You ready princess?"
"Yup, coming."
Breathe, it's Eddie, why the hell are you nervous?
But this is the first date you've been on with him really. Butterflies flutter in your stomach in expectancy. Exiting the bathroom, you lock eyes with your date.
Eddie looks good. Ridiculously good. He's handsome, that's a given, but seeing him in a suit? Fucking hell.
The black suit jacket he's slung over his shoulders looks expensive, clearly tailored to him, with matching dress pants. A black shirt with a slight sheen to it clings to the muscles on his torso, it might be satin, or silk. He's even wearing smart shoes; they gleam in the light. No tie, you notice. Not that it surprises you, he doesn't look the type to even consider a tie, even for the most formal occasions. Not that you miss it; the top buttons of the shirt are undone, showing off his chest tattoo and a thick silver chain.
"Eddie, you clean up good." You smile. Real good.
"Sweetheart, fuck me…" He's frozen, staring at you.
"Eddie, you've seen the dress!" You laugh, walking towards him.
He stumbles back, holding his hands to his heart as if you shot him.
"But I didn't know you'd kill me when you put it on!" He exclaims, dramatically falling to one knee.
"Eddie…" you laugh, walking toward him.
"I don't know… if I can… go on." He breaks down on the floor, hand outstretched in a silent dramatic plea.
"Eddie you idiot!" You giggle, grabbing his hand and pulling him upright.
You're impossibly close now, bodies an inch from touching. All joking forgotten, he grabs you by the waist, pulling you close. Hot breath fans across your face as his lips nearly touch yours.
"We better go to dinner. You look so, so, sexy, that if we don't…" a kiss is forced onto your waiting mouth, full of longing.
"I'll hike this dress up and fuck you against," stopping to look around, he points, "that wall."
Your fingers wrap around his, bringing them to your mouth.
"Maybe later."
"Hmm, promise?"
"Promise."
Tugging him toward the door, he huffs dramatically, flinging his head back like a toddler.
Making your way to the door, you turn around suddenly.
"Wait. We need to play the part, right?"
Eddie looks at you, amused.
"Yes? What you thinking sweetheart?"
A plan comes to mind, making you shiver with anxiety. Hoping against hope that Eddie doesn't run a mile, you take his hands in your own, sizing up a likely candidate. That ring looks perfect, the backing is a straight band. Taking it off his finger, you place it on the ring finger on his left hand, backwards. You do the same with one of yours.
Holding your makeshift wedding bands next to each other, you look up at him.
"See? Playing the part."
He surveys them for a moment, a moment that has your heart beating in your throat.
"Perfect." Bringing your fingers up to his lips, he kisses the makeshift band.
"Dinner?"
Shoving your feelings down as far as they'll go, you swallow the lump in your throat and grab his outstretched hand so he can lead you downstairs.
Arm in arm, you enter the dining room together.
"Mr and Mrs Munson, here for dinner?"
Your heart skips a beat at his words.
It's just a part we are playing, that's all. Don't let it go to your head.
"Of course, please follow me."
After being ushered to a table, you order food and drinks. Then you talk, and talk, and talk. He's really opening up to you finally. All about high school, his love for music, his life. The conversation continues as you eat, about him becoming a mechanic, finally opening his own shop and building it from the ground up. He's charming, and funny; each piece of information gives you just that little extra insight into the man you've come to care for so much.
You start to tell him about your own life, some things you've never told anyone before. You speak about school too, your qualification in English Literature that you are working towards which you'd mentioned before, and looking to train as a teacher after that, which you hadn't. Or, you thought you hadn't.
"I know sweetheart, you told me that."
"Did I?" Racking your brains over the last couple of months just leaves you coming up empty.
"Yeah, about six months ago. We were in the kitchen, I was helping out, fitting the stove. You were wearing that blue skirt with the flowers on."
Oh.
"You remember that?" Wide eyed, you pause from taking a sip of your wine and stare at him.
"Yeah. Sorry, that came out really creepy." He smiles but doesn't meet your gaze, as if he's ashamed.
"Eddie, how long have you had a crush on me?"
"Honestly? Nearly a year. I remember seeing you all dolled up for your 21st and thinking I was being a fuckin' pervert."
"Well, that makes me feel a little better. I kinda had a thing for you around the same time. Dressed up a bit when you were around." Admitting it is embarrassing, but also freeing. A weight you didn't know you were carrying is lifted, flying free to the heavens.
"Ah, so that wasn't my imagination. Why'd you think I helped out around yours all the time? I gotta admit, that bikini you got, the red one. Fuck, that was when I knew I was down bad" he smirks, reaching over to hold your hand.
"I got it for you." You whisper, touching his outstretched hand.
"Naughty girl."
Your thighs clench under the table. A rush of blood to your cheeks aided by the wine you've drunk makes them burn hotly at his words.
"Sorry to interrupt." You both turn to see your waiter looking very awkward.
"Would you like any more to drink? Or the dessert menu?"
Eddie looks at you for confirmation.
"No, no we're fine. Can we take the rest of the wine upstairs?" Eddie's eyebrows raise at you, fingers stroking the hand he's still holding.
"Of course, have a pleasant evening Mrs Munson."
As the waiter departs, you stand up immediately.
"Oh it's like that, is it?" Eddie's grinning, the devil dancing in his eyes. He palms the bottle and pulls you from your seat so fast you may have whiplash, guiding you to the elevator.
Once the doors close you are on each other like a rash sharing an urgent, messy kiss. One of his hands is in your hair, pulling you toward him greedily as your tongues fight for dominance. You pull at his shirt, silky material bunching under your desperate hand.
The elevator doors ping open and he throws you over his shoulder like a caveman, landing an awkward smack on your ass since he's still holding the bottle of wine. You shriek as he practically runs down the hallway, placing you down gently to fumble with the room key.
Throwing your arms around his neck as he does so, you press needy open mouthed kisses to him, hitting any skin you can reach. Eddie's breathing is laboured, from his impromptu sprint as well as your attention on his neck.
"Sweetheart, I can't get the damn key card in the thing when you do that!"
Laughing, you suck a bruise in his neck making him groan as he puts the card in the slot. It flashes red once, twice, then finally green, the door swinging open taking you by surprise, so much so you nearly fall.
Vision sliding sideways as Eddie drags you in the room; he kicks the door shut with his foot and reaches for you once again, slamming your back against the wall.
"Was it this wall?" He asks, voice a throaty growl as he undoes his belt with one hand and whips it through the loops at lightning speed.
"Huh?" Thoughts are impossible right now, unable to see through the alcohol and lust that clouds your judgement.
Eddie's hand reaches and grabs you by the neck. All you can focus on is his rough grip, squeezing at the sides of your throat, and the heartbeat hammering in your cunt.
"The wall I was gonna fuck you against. This one, yeah?"
Nodding emphatically, you reach your eager fingers to his pants, palming his rock hard length.
"Fuck." Letting go of your throat he pulls your dress up and over the curve of your ass, exposing the tiny thong you were wearing.
"These new too?"
"Yeah."
As you answer he rips them off, the flimsy lace falling apart.
"I'll buy you a new pair."
His mouth is on your neck before you can protest, teeth biting harder than usual as he unbuttons his pants to push them hastily down.
Calloused fingers seek your pussy, rubbing through your folds.
"God, you're already soaked sweetheart."
You whine, back arching against the wall.
"Just fuck me Eddie, please, I need you."
The tip of his hardened cock runs through your seeping wetness as he lifts you up. Legs clamping around him instinctually, your fingers grasp the lapels of his jacket, tearing it down his arms. It's flung off and away, your hands gripping his shoulders.
He plunges his throbbing length into you then, large hands grabbing you by your ass, helping him to fuck up into you at an unforgiving pace.
The sounds of your conjunction are slapping through the room, your slick making dirty squelching noises that would make you cringe if you had any thoughts in your head. All that's echoing in your brain is Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. A heartbeat.
He's pounding into you so hard your head starts hitting the wall, the thunk echoing.
"Fuck, sorry, just hang on," he says, gripping you harshly and carrying you over to the bed. He throws you down, making the air force out of your lungs with an 'ooft' noise.
Then he's pulling your knees up, giving you no time to breathe as he pushes into you hard, hitting that spot inside that makes you quiver and beg.
"Eddie, Oh God!"
His grip, his thrusting movements, his harsh demeanour has your head spinning. You're on the brink of unravelling.
"Eddie, please, can you- fuck, can you hold my throat again?" You plead, voice hot and raw from moaning.
"Sweetheart, anything for you." Gravel in his voice. His lips curve into a smile, but there's no mirth in it. His face is hard, and something about it is setting your insides on fire. One hand glides its way up and over your curves, coming to rest on your neck. Rough finger pads squeeze onto your throat at the sides, not too hard, though enough to make your head reel and your pussy clench.
The string holding you to this reality snaps then as you gasp for air, fibres flying free. You unravel, entirely and completely, dissolving into a mess of tangled threads.
Eddie merely grunts his appreciation, fully lost in the depths of your cunt, beast mode well and truly activated. Short fingernails dig into the flesh of your hips, ass, thighs, hard enough that you're sure he's drawing blood.
He releases into you with a bloodthirsty groan, nearly collapsing onto your fucked out form.
After a few breaths, he manages words.
"Sorry princess. I get a bit… rough when I've had a drink."
"Don't apologise. That was… Just, need more of that."
"Now??" His eyes widened impossibly at your words.
You giggle at the incredulity in his voice.
"Maybe in like, ten minutes?" You pout.
"Twenty."
"Done."
********************
The time had come. You had both had to rid yourselves of the fairytale, the fantasy, and drive back separately to your real lives. It left a bitter taste in your mouth, a lemon rind of reality soaking onto your tongue, sour and unwelcome.
Saying goodbye was a sickening experience that you'd rather forget. A brief hug and kiss in the hotel car park, making you feel cheaper than you ever did. Like some sort of prostitute. It hurt, more than all of this put together.
Driving away with tear stained cheeks, you sought solace in the roads of tarmac ahead of you. That, and the last words he spoke to you which echoed your head, 'soon, sweetheart, soon.'
You pulled up to your family home and noticed your mom's car in the driveway. Walking in and dumping your bag at the foot of the stairs you shout out in a feigned cheery voice.
"Hey, I'm back from Stacey's house!" The lie you had told them. One of many.
"Hey honey, we were just heading out! Tell us about it later, we'll see you soon!"
Your mom rushes by you in a cloud of perfume and smiles, your dad in her wake. A kiss is laid on each of your cheeks as she waltzes out.
The house is silent and still. You move to the kitchen to fix yourself a drink.
A knock startles you for a moment, making water slosh out of the glass in your hand. Looking up, you see the vision of your desire silhouetted in the patio windows. T-shirt tight across his frame, hair dishevelled, and his usual bright face frowning with discomfort.
You open the door and he stands there, looking you up and down, like he hadn't seen you for a week, even though it had only been a couple of hours. He makes no move to join you however.
"Your parents, they gone?" .
"They just left. Why?" Your eyebrows tighten in confusion but widen in surprise when he strides inside, grabbing you by the ass and lifting you up.
He drops you unceremoniously onto the counter top, your nearly bare ass on the hard granite. His lips are on your neck, but instead of hot kisses, warm breath is breathing life into you.
"This weekend, it was supposed to be it."
"What do you mean?" You ask as your stomach drops.
"This." He gestured to the air between you both, "was it. I was going to say goodbye."
"But, Eddie-"
He interrupts your heart burning to ash, stopping the flames with a simple wave of his hands.
"I said this was supposed to be it. But I-I can't." He lifts his head to look you in the eyes, hands gripping onto the flesh of your thighs desperately.
"I care about you too much. We need to come clean, fuck the consequences."
His mouth is on your jaw, nipping at you harshly, hands groping at your flesh as if this were the first time, or the last time.
You moan, throwing your head back as your fingers grip at his shoulders, feet digging into his back to force him between your legs, closer to your expectant heat.
"Honey I forgot my purse-"
The world freezes. Your mother, still as a stone, stuck in between shutter speed frames. Her keys have fallen to the floor, splayed on the floor in her shock.
"What the fuck!"
Your dad stands behind her, face twisted as you've never seen it; volatile, angry and red. A vein is popping deep in his temple, cheeks nearly purple in their rage.
Eddie steps away, body shielding you with his hands held upward in supplication.
"Mick, look, we can explain-"
"Explain? Explain why you've got your hands all over my daughter??"
"Listen, I-"
"You fucking listen, get out of my house!"
Eddie steps away from you, hands still outstretched to the heavens as your mouth falls open. You're in shock, limbs refusing to respond to the impulses you're sending via your brain to move, damn it, move.
Eddie exits the front door, your mother and father behind him.
Finally, your legs find it in their muscles to listen. You shakily follow, finding your lover standing on the grass on the lawn, your father in front of him, clenched fists at his sides.
It's not long before your fathers fist strikes out, landing on the side of Eddie's face with a glancing blow. Eddie staggers and stands firm, eyes flashing defiance, but hands making no move to defend himself.
"Eddie, what the fuck do you think you're doing? She's half your age!"
"Mick, just listen, I know what this looks like, I'm sorry, but-"
"No, there's no sorry, she's my fucking daughter!"
The other fist lands, hitting Eddie square in the eye. This time he falls backwards onto the well manicured lawn, hands still reaching to your father, begging. Neighbours are beginning to edge their way outdoors, drawn by the carnage.
"But I love her!"
The words you never thought you'd get to hear were spilling from his soft lips, not a doubted syllable between them. The words you begged for silently, in the dead of night. Time stands still, at least for you. Your mom is frozen in time with you, hand hovering over her mouth. Your father, however, breaks the spell.
'Get the fuck off of my property."
As Eddie stands, you remember your voice.
"No! No, Dad, I love him too. I love you Eddie!" Tears brim in your eyes, threatening to spill over your cheeks at the slightest blink.
"You, inside. You don't even know what love is!" His angry fist is outstretched toward you, giving you a frightening glimpse of your father that you've never known.
"Mick, calm down, we should listen-"
Your mother is silenced with a violent glance.
"Inside, both of you. We'll talk in the morning."
There's nothing you can do but witness Eddie getting up and walking to his house without a backwards glance.
********************
Three days. It's been three days since that fateful encounter; three days since you knew your feelings towards Eddie were reciprocated. Your mother and father have practically kept you under house arrest during that time, holding some unknown shift pattern in order to keep you there.
As far as you're aware, your father has lost it. It was never in him to discipline you as a child, but it seems he reached his limit that day, threatening to incarcerate you until the end of your time on earth was spent.
Your mother is softer about this, but no amount of talking seemed to sway him. You'd even tried to sneak out of the house to find him at the foot of your window.
It was early. Sunlight was seeping through the folds of your curtains as you lay there, cheek fastened to your pillow as it has been for a while. Bed sores were a real threat; not that you cared. Nothing mattered anymore, apart from the fact that Eddie loved you, and you loved him, and you were never going to see him again.
A distant noise reverberated outside, one you barely cared about. Footfalls then, on the landing. Familiar footfalls.
As your door flings open, you look up with bleary eyes.
"Did you mean it sweetheart?"
It's Eddie, your Eddie. Flinging your body off the bed, you envelop him in an urgent embrace.
'Oh Eddie, I'm sorry, I didn't know that-'
'Shh sweetheart, it's OK. Just… did you mean it? Do you love me?"
"Eddie, I love you more than anything."
His lips press against yours, hard, firm and brief.
'Good. Pack a bag. We need to be quick."
"Why, where are we going?"
"Vegas."
Masterlist
Tag list (if you want to stay please reblog my sweethearts!)
@hereforshmut @g4ys0n @winchester-angel @eddiemunson95 @corrodedcoffincumslut @shazzie33 @severusswife @daluamaia1 @callsignraver @lightvixxen @newlips @eddiethefreakkmunson @hollster88 @ali-r3n @bebe07011 @roanniom @eddiesprincess86 @eddiemunsons-missingnipple @daisyridleyyyy @lolalanaie @dandelionnfluff @latedawnsearlysunsets92 @luv-flor7777 @topaz1983 @pixxie2004 @harmfulb1tch @findmeincorneliastreet @eddies-puppet @fertilitygodkiszka @freshsagegarden
#ms gexy writes#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson#eddie munson x you#eddie munson fanfic#eddie x you#eddie x reader#older!eddie#older eddie munson#eddie stranger things#eddie my beloved#eddie munson x fem reader#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x younger reader#stranger things x reader#stranger things smut#stranger things#stranger things x you#stranger things x y/n
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i promise
minatozaki sana x fem!reader
summary: promises are made to be broken
cw: angst, slight fluff, suggestive towards the end, mentions of cheating, men dni
wc: 1.9k
a/n: my first fic!! please feel free to leave any feedback or suggestions :) pink text is a flashback
it's been one year. one year since you got your heart ripped to pieces. one year since your entire soul was crushed and you were broken down into absolutely nothing. one year since the girl you loved and thought loved you back left and took remnants of your heart with her. but that was a year ago. a lot can change in a year, right? now you were genuinely smiling again, going out with friends, finding peace. thoughts of her slowly faded away, only the good moments popping up once in a while. you were moving on.
at least that what's you thought until she showed up at your front door at 1 am on a saturday night.
you heard soft knocks on the door as you sat on the couch, catching up on the last few chapters of your book. since it was raining tonight, you thought nothing of it. until you heard it again, this time louder and more familiar. you recognized that stuttered pattern of knocking that sana had, memories of the daily occurrence of her showing up unannounced flashing through your mind. still, there's no way it would be her at your door right? not after how things ended between you both.
—
"you're being so fucking ridiculous right now, y/n. i told you it was just a work trip, right? do you not trust me?" the venom laced in sana's voice made you flinch. "i do trust you, sana. i just want the truth this time that's all." tears welled up in your eyes at the thought of her questioning your trust in her. "i just needed a break from all this" sana gestures her hand around the room, almost pointing directly at you. "all this? what are you saying?" you hesitated as you realized the intention behind her words. sana scoffed as she pressed her hand to her forehead, pacing around the room. as you stood there watching her get increasingly frustrated, you couldn't help but dread hearing her answer. you wanted the truth, but you knew it would hurt so much more than hearing her usual excuse.
the silence in the room was filled with your soft sniffling and tears that started falling without you even realizing it. sana froze up and took a deep breath, opening her mouth to say something, but not coming up with anything. your eyes were glued to the floor and your body felt weak. you couldn't even bare to look at her. "just tell me what really happened that night. please." your pleading was barely audible and your voice was small. "nothing happened, y/n. i promise."
this wasn't the first time she had been on a "work trip" and came back with a piece of evidence of her sins. it's the fifth time you've allowed her to walk all over you and force you to just accept it. "i saw it." but this time you were fed up with the lies. done with her blatant ignorance for your feelings. "what are you talking about?" sana asked as she started cracking her knuckles, a nervous tic she has. "the lipstick mark on your shirt. and the pictures. i saw it." you started choking up and the tears started flowing again. there's a pause in the atmosphere and sana doesn't say anything. she goes to sit on the edge of your shared bed. thinking. thinking of another bullshit excuse to give you. "i'm sorry." was the only thing she could come up with this time.
sana stood up and slowly walked over to you, your back turned and body frozen. she grabbed your hand and interlocked your fingers with hers. you hated it. you hated the way her hand fit perfectly in yours. hated the way her hands were the perfect amount of warmth and how soft they were. you were repulsed by her touch. and it hurt so fucking bad. you loved her so much, but you couldn't feel anything for her except disgust. you snatched your hand away from hers, making sana jump. you looked up at her for the first time in what felt like hours. you scanned her perfect features for any sense of guilt, or regret. nothing. only finding a small smile spread across her lips after finally making eye contact with you.
"you should leave." you managed to say as you silently praised yourself for having the courage to. sana's smile dropped and her eyebrows furrowed, confused. she chuckled in disbelief, not fully understanding the weight behind your statement. "what?" her voice slightly above a whisper. "i said you should leave." you bit your lip hard enough to draw blood as you tried to hold back your tears and looked her directly in those pretty eyes of hers. fuck. sana slightly stepped back, shocked at the depravity of the situation and the consequences of her actions. a few minutes passed and sana collected herself enough to walk out of your room and house, slamming the door behind her. you broke down onto your knees as soon as you heard the door close, sobbing and debating if you made the right decision.
—
putting your book down, you got up to look through the peephole of your door, seeing the exact person you never thought you would ever see again. "what the hell?" you thought to yourself as you slowly unlocked and opened the door. seeing her again made your breath hitch and you felt those pushed down feelings crawling back up. her clothes were drenched with rainwater and her hair was damp. "hi." you saw a held back smile form on her face. you stared at her and stood back to let her in without saying anything. sana cautiously walked inside and took her shoes off, dropping her soaked jacket next to them. you noticed how her hair got longer. darker. her eye bags were abnormally visible and her figure got slimmer. god, has she been eating properly? you quickly shook off that instinctive concern towards her and brought yourself back to reality.
"do you want tea?" you asked, knowing it was the usual when you were together. sana would come over and you would make each of you a cup of tea as you sat on the couch together. loving each other. but that's not what it is anymore. "no, i'm good. thank you." you nodded in response, slightly hurt at the end of the tradition. as you shuffled around the kitchen, you heard her call you.
"y/n." sana's tone was serious and you turned around from the kitchen island to face her. "can we talk? please?" she sounded so vulnerable. a side of her you don't remember seeing. you walked over to the couch and sat down on your usual side. the same couch where laughter and better memories were once made. sana joined you and sat on her side. your assigned spots on the shared couch remained the same, making you smile to yourself.
sana was stiff. reserved. her leg was bouncing up and down as she cracked her slender fingers on her left hand. your eyes were focused on her. observing her. "how are you?" you asked to try and relieve the tension in the room. "good, good, yeah. i've been good. how about you?" she was lying again. "i've been good too." sana looked at you and seemed almost upset hearing that. she nodded and looked back down to her feet.
"why are you here, sana?" there was no answer from her and you saw how restless she was getting. in the moment of silence, you reflected on things and realized how much you missed her. you missed her intoxicating scent. her presence. her laugh. her smile. it felt like home to you. she was home. all you wanted to do was hug her and tell her everything was okay, but you knew it was wrong. you silently cursed yourself for feeling this way.
"i just needed to see you." she finally said. "i wanted to properly apologize for what i did. everything. i fucked up i know. i'm so sorry, y/n, i took you for granted and i didn't realize what i was losing. i'm sorry. i'm so sorry." her words were all jumbled together and she said sorry more times than you could count. her vulnerability was fully shown, tears streaming down her face and into the palms of her hands. you felt yourself crying along with her, but you quickly wiped the tears away. after choking out a couple more apologies in between her sobs, she looked up and saw your glassy eyes. she turned to face her body to you, giving you her full attention. "i've honestly been so lost without you y/n. i'm not doing good at all. i lied, okay. ever since that night, you're all i think about. i regret everything y/n i'm so fucking sorry. i still love you so much. i never stopped loving you. i was just too dumb to realize what i was doing to you. i’m so sorry for hurting you like that." sana frantically spewed out everything and you wondered just how long she's been waiting to get it off her chest.
she slightly slid closer to you, careful not to overstep the invisible wall between you. "y/n. please. say something. anything?" sana watched you intently as you sat there, unable to form a coherent sentence.
"why did you wait until now?" you finally said as you wrapped your arms around yourself in a form of self comfort. "i don't know. i just needed time to think. i was immature and was too embarrassed to admit it." she shook her head, disappointed in herself. "but i want us to try again. doing things the right way this time. maybe. i don't know." she sounded unsure of herself, almost like she was leaving everything up to you. she glanced at you to look for a reaction. any reaction. you let out a deep sigh. "sana.." your grip on yourself got tighter, grounding you. this was everything you've ever wanted to hear from her. everything you asked for back then. part of you wanted so badly to drop everything and say yes right then and there, but the rational part of you was forcing yourself to hold back.
"i know. yeah it's a bad idea." she sounded defeated and ran her hands through her damp, tangled hair. "i just don't wanna get hurt again, sana. i've been happy." you winced when you were reminded of what sana put you through. she looked at you with those same pretty eyes, slightly pouting. she moved even closer to you than before, placing her hand on your knee.
her perfume was strong and you felt an odd sense of comfort from it. she observed your face and admired your soft features. she reached her hand up to tuck your hair behind your ear, making every move gently and carefully. you untensed your body and let your arms drop into your lap. sana rested her hand on your cheek, caressing your smooth skin while she looked at you like you were the most precious thing in the world. you leaned into her touch and she noticed it right away, smiling at your action. you missed her so bad. but it was so wrong. you were making such good progress. you were healing. how dare she just show up like this and fuck everything up?
but none of that mattered anymore when her face somehow got impossibly close to yours. her thumb soothingly rubbed back on forth on your cheek as she eyed your lips with a slight hint of lust. your breathing got heavier and the tension was imminent. your eyes fluttered closed as you leaned in and closed the gap between you two, feeling her soft, warm lips against yours. you moaned into the kiss, deepening it with your hands pulling her closer around the back of her neck. she tasted so sweet that it was almost addicting. sana kissed you back passionately, using this opportunity as a way to show you how sorry she really was. you pulled away to catch your breath, pressing your foreheads together, breathing together in sync. "i'm not gonna hurt you ever again, y/n. i promise." and you knew it was only a matter of time before her promise was broken again.
#twice imagines#twice x reader#twice angst#kpop x reader#sana x reader#sana angst#twice sana#minatozaki sana
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If 👏 you 👏 don't 👏 like 👏 it don't 👏 play 👏 it 👏
No one here is forcing you to omfg.
Jesus. What exactly is the point of coming onto a blog you very RUDELY state you aren't interested in... to tell us you aren't interested in it?
Do you want a medal?!
Ffs.
If people want an anti-hero, IF there are a lot of them, they can go search on interact IFs log. people can stop whining jesus christ.
I get it, really. It's frustrating MCs who have no control, but it's a journey MC won't be like that for the entire book! 😒 my main issue with books like that is only that for most of them, MC has no ally's, and some writers are like heavy on the MC abuse. I can think of two books off the top of my head i dipped out of because 6 chapters in and everyone is still horrible to MC including the ROs and MC is just a fucking doormat being ridiculed and punched down. In those instances, i don't blame the writers if thats the direction they want to go, but it makes me very uncomfortable, especially with immersion.
This, however, isn't that. IT'S NOT EVEN REALLY OUT YET. Anon wrote this to a writer with another blog where MC is going through some deep shit but not once have i felt that uncomfortable feeling because MC has hope and people that love them and i enjoy reading about their growth and pain.
Can we not judge things that has not even had a blog for 24 hours
Sorry for my rant, Tol... I'm just tired of seeing this shit constantly.
Promise i had a RO related question when i started this.... 🫣🤦🏻♀️
sometimes i think people forget that they're sending a message to a real human person, and it's pretty sad. if i ever acted like that towards anyone my grandma would come back to life and smack me over the head.
thank you for the sweet message!
#asks.#could just make mc even more of a loser lol#and let's not even mwntion my other projects because if this lil thing got that much of an reaction#i can't imagine how it'd be with the other ones lol#hungry dogs eapecially. trauma all around. full bunch of losers.
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Sunflower: Book 1, chapter 15
Tom Hiddleston x OFC Series rated: M Chapter warnings: Our flashback is a bit.. Uhum. Steamy? AN: Do we get our conversation? How childish will Mia be? Can she act like a goddamn adult? LETS FIND OUT!
Masterlist
~~~~~~<3
It had been four days. Four long, slow days. Four days where Mia could try to think without the overwhelming presence of a stranger in her space. Four days where Mia found herself longing for that presence.
Tom had been gone for four days and it had been twenty four hours since she had heard from Tom. Radio silence filled the air, though she tried to drown it out with music, television and conversations. How could silence gnaw at her heart in the very same way as the insane devotion that radiated off him did?
He was busy. He was working. He was… not here. And that bothered her. A lot. It shouldn’t, but it did. And that killed her. Not physically, but god did she kind of wish it did.
She wasn’t clingy typically but she couldn’t help it. This was his fault. He demanded that she invest. How could she not when he insisted on finding any crack in her heart to worm his way in and try to find purchase to take root.
He had made her think he was different. Hell, he had all but said he was different.
This was supposed to be different.
But here she was, four days alone.
Sally was asleep and the apartment was large, empty and frigidly silent. She had worked a early shift and tomorrow had a late one. Exhaustion was deep in her bones but she needed to stay up way too late tonight.
What was it like to have someone to be at home with, to not be alone in the silence of the night when she had no choice but play chicken with the morning light?
A ping from her phone caught her attention. Glancing at it, she saw it was just another news push notification. It wasn’t a feature she wanted but it was installed automatically with the latest software update. There was enough in her life to be anxious about without getting 24 hour updates every day of the year on what god awful thing was happening in another state or country. It had been a few weeks but she hadn’t been able to figure out how to turn it off.
It was just a matter of time until she figured it out though. She swore it. Every time it had gone off it had given her false hope that he finally sent something, she swore she’d figure it out.
This was ridiculous.
The reason for the radio silence was obvious. She had been right and he realized it. It was that simple. No need to pine, question and dance like a goddamn schoolgirl.
With time away, Tom realized that everything Mia had said Saturday morning was right. In a few days or a few weeks she would get a notice from some lawyer initiating the annulment. Would he cancel the card he left for her to use?
It’s not like it was hard to replace, really. It was just a credit card, he obviously could live without the physical card for a while. How hard would it really be on him if he changed his mind?
“Some promise that was.” Mia tossed the card absently onto the end table next to her.
Ping.
Ignore it. There was no point in checking. It wasn’t him. it was never him.
Okay, she was being a bit dramatic. Really dramatic, maybe. She didn’t know. It was dumb. She was being dumb. It was too soon to decide he ghosted her.
“Fuck,” She slumped back on the couch. “I guess I’ll be able to say I got ghosted by an actor.”
Ping.
She couldn’t help it, she grabbed her phone knowing exactly what she’d find. It would be a second news story of little to no importance to her day to day life. An auto accident near by that slowed traffic patterns or a missing person on the other side of the country. A storm in Brazil or a heatwave in India. It would be a protest in China. It would be nothing.
It was a text message from contact Tom.
“Can I call?” The message read. Another followed, “It’s late, I know.”
She sent a single k back and waited for the other shoe to drop. There was nearly no wait for the phone to come to life in her hand. She hadn’t added a picture to his contact, it was just Tom H lighting up her screen.
Nothing more.
She took a deep breath and answered, “Hello,”
“Is everything alright?” Tom’s tone was difficult to pinpoint.
“Yeah-” She cleared her throat and sat up. “I’m fine. It’s fine. Everything’s fine. Just lay it on me.”
“Lay what on you?” Tom sounded confused and that confused her. “What are you talking about?”
“You haven’t said anything, all day.” Her eyes burned and her throat felt tight. She needed air. The apartment was suffocating as she stood.
“It has been a minute, I suppose.” He was picking his words carefully.
“Can you just- why are you calling?” The glass door slid closed behind her. If Tom was going to do whatever she wanted to not have to worry about Sally waking up for it.
“I wanted to talk to you?” Tom sounded unsure, on the other side of the country he had found himself off balance.
“About what?” Mia felt the anger sweeping in to push away her sadness. It wasn’t healthy but it was a bad habit that she often found solace in. Anger was safe. For her at least, not those in her way.
“You’re upset with me?”
“Stop asking questions.” Mia snapped. “What do you want?”
“I wanted to make sure you got the couch alright.” Tom’s voice was starting to pull tight. “Why did you think I wanted to call?”
“To tell me I was right.” Mia’s voice cracked. This was it, their first fight was going to happen and it hadn’t even been two weeks. “To tell me…”
Tom’s tone changed from the defensive and softened considerably. He may not be able to read her mind but he knew she was hurting. “I’m not calling to ask for an annulment. Why on earth did you think that?”
“You never texted back. You stopped talking and I just- It’s been over a day and it’s been slowing down. It was just-” she clamped down on the words as her voice threatened to give away how close she was to tears, that safe anger winking out in her shame.
“You missed me?” his voice was so soft. “I got absorbed in work. I’m sorry.”
“No, no.” Mia forced a chuckle. It was all a misunderstanding. She was acting like a love sick schoolgirl. She was a grown ass woman married to a grown ass man. She shouldn’t be crying and thinking their marriage is over just because he didn’t text her for a day. “I swear- I’m not clingy.”
“It’s alright.” Somewhere on the other side of the universe, he sat down heavily on the too big bed. “Things are new and delicate. I’m just as guilty for not being aware.” Silence ticked on. While they had texted while he was away (until it stopped) they hadn’t actually talked on the phone.
“I saw part of your interview.” Mia wasn’t sure why she said it.
“Which one?” Tom asked, his voice warming to life. “What did you think?”
“The one where you talked about me.”
“Did I- Was what I said alright?” Tom wasn’t totally sure which one she was talking about but he didn’t want to complicate things more.
“I don’t like lying.” Mia said. “I know why you need to but I don’t like it.”
“It’s not really lying, its just implying different and reinforcing our privacy.” That still sounded like lying to Mia but she let it go. She was pretty sure he more than implied they knew eachother for longer than a night in the segment she watched anyway.
He could lie so easily and didn’t even agree with her on the definition of lying. The fact that he played pretend well enough to do it for a living showed he was good at telling lies too.
Shaking her head, she pushed the thoughts away. Tom had never given her a reason to think he would lie to her. He has been earnest and honest from the moment they woke up Saturday.
“Hiding parts of my private life is just a fact of my life. If I want to hold anything back for myself without the public picking it apart, it needs to be protected from them.”
“I know.” Mia sighed as she leaned against the railing. The fight felt like it had been narrowly avoided.
“It’s people in my life I tell the truth but to protect the people in my life I don’t tell the world the whole truth.”
“I know, I know-”
“It’ll take time to get used to.”
Silence filled the air again. This time it didn’t have that same icy chill to it. She had missed him and that scared her.
“Tom?” Her heart beat too hard in her chest. Did he miss her? Even just a little?
He hummed on the other side of the universe and she wondered what he was doing. They had a time difference of three hours. It was late for her but even later for him. Was he preparing to go to bed? Was he just getting in from a night on the town?
“What is it?” He asked after she failed to say anything.
She wanted to tell him she missed him. She wanted to ask when he was going to come back. She hated it.
“Don’t be a stranger.” God, that was so lame. Out of everything she could have said, that’s what she came up with?
“I have been, haven’t I?” It was Mia’s turn to be silent. She wasn’t sure what to say. It was weird to be married to a man she didn’t know.
“I mean, what’s what we kind of still are, aren’t we?” It was the best she could come up with to say.
“I’m sorry. I’d gotten busy and fallen away from texting you. I- Luke tacked on a few appearances. The trip got extended. Usually it’s nothing, I didn’t think anything of it. Until I did. But by then- I didn’t know what to say.”
The ability to apologize was not one that Mia had seen much in the men that had spent time in her life. It reassured her that he could do something as simple as say ‘sorry’.
“I should be back by Friday.” Tom said, sounding sure. Just as sure as he had sounded before he left. “I promise.”
“Don’t.” Mia’s voice came harder than she intended. “Don’t promise if you don’t have control over keeping it.”
“Mia-”
“I need to get to bed. Work tomorrow.”
What moments of warmth they had shared during the call had cooled. Would it always be like this? She hoped not. Could she ever feel safe enough to stop icing him out as soon as things warmed up?
“I’ll call again tomorrow?” Tom fell back on the hotel bed. This call had not gone how he intended but who’s fault was that? He should have just told her when the plan changed.
“If you want.” She didn’t know what else to say as she stepped back into the apartment, locking the sliding door behind her.
“I do want.” Tom hesitated, “It’s good to hear your voice. To talk to you. I missed you.”
She didn’t know what to say. Couldn’t say anything. Her heart pounded in her chest and her hands trembled. “Goodnight, Tom.” Was what she managed to squeak out before disconnecting the call.
~~~~~<3
Tom pressed her against the door. His hand was large and firm against her waist, holding her right where he wanted. Fumbling, with his wallet trapped in his pocket, he struggled with the other hand. His pants were tight around his hips and his current state of mind didn’t help matters.
Her nails scratched at the hair at the back of his neck as she clung to him. It felt like she was floating, swimming through a sea of desire and alcohol. She needed him. She wanted him. “Hurry.”
“Got it.” The wallet slipped out. It was a struggle to flip it open with one hand, then find the hotel keycard. In the process of getting the card out, he dropped the leather wallet to the floor.
His breath was hot in her ear. Lips worked, leaving harsh kisses along her neck. As he worked the card into the slot, he moved his hand from her waist to her breast, stopping for a firm squeeze that had a soft moan slip from her lips.
“I need you.” She whimpered as the door beeped, denying entry.
“Who do you need?” Tom asked as he flipped the card around, trying different sides hoping one would work.
“My husband.” That set fire to him.
The door beeped the correct tune this time, granting them entry. Tom hooked the door handle with his hand, slapping it down clumsily after yanking the card from the door. The door swung open, no longer providing a solid surface to support their weight.
Tom held her up with a arm flung around her waist as they stumbled in. He kicked blindly, relying on feel alone to help him ensure he kicked his wallet somewhere into the room.
“My wife.” Tom breathed as he kicked the door shut behind them. Alone at last.
~~~~~<3
Taglist:
@winterisakiller, @alexakeyloveloki, @jennyggggrrr @dangertoozmanykids101, @tilltheendwilliwrite @tinchentitri @wizardcherryblossom @buttercupcookies-blog @violethaze @kats72 @soulpiercing @evedia
#Tom hiddleston x ofc#tom hiddleston x oc#Tom hiddleston x original female character#Tom hiddleston x original character#tom hiddleston fanfic#Tom hiddleston fanfiction#tom hiddleston rpf
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Hello friends! First SSS of the year for me. Also an early post because I want to write after sleeping and maybe some validation early in the day will help 💖 I have six snippets from six WIPs to share (only the fifth one written today, which makes me sad because I really wanted to share new new words, but it's okay) and I want to talk about them, so I'm throwing everything under the cut with the tags.
You can vote for the WIP you'd like me to continue the most (except Like We Had A Clue, because I know people are waiting for an update and it would skew the vote hahaha). Pick one of the other 5! Though as always I'll follow inspiration and not what the people want.
Love you all <3 hope you're taking care of yourself in these trying times.
1. First EGF WIP. I have many ideas for EGF, but considering a) possible writer's blocks, b) exams, c) other non EGF related WIPs, I honestly don't know how much I'll manage to write. This one is the most “urgent” one because it's a collab with @aroace-genderfluid-sheep and he's already done so many cool things for it and I'm so excited!!! The snippet I'm sharing is all I've written for this fic. Oh well!
“You could've at least sent us to Dante's inferno. That would've been intellectually stimulating.”
“This place is plenty stimulating.”
Of course it is. It's a fucking sex dungeon.
2. Second EGF WIP. I shared something from this already. There's hope I'll finish this one because it's short, but knowing myself I can't make promises hahaha.
“I’m sorry,” they say. Their voice is deep and smooth, like I imagine a cello would sound if it could talk. “I don’t think I can have dinner with you tonight.”
I can’t hide how much it stings. Of course my monster under the bed would come out just to reject me.
3. Like We Had A Clue. Chapter 5 is outlined in detail but I'm still struggling so much with it. Have some sentences I might have shared already in the past because I wrote them months ago!
“Are you trying to trap me, Snow? Keep me here to make food for you forever?”
“What if I am?”
I raise an eyebrow. His hand is still on my arm. He lets it fall.
4. WIP I shared from a couple of weeks ago. I want to have fun with this so I'm not forcing myself to write it, but I also really want to finish it. It's a struggle, always 🤣
(There's nothing innocent about four thousand words of Fangvald having a pity wank after Cherry spat on his face and demanded to know the true motives behind his betrayal.)
But it's fanfiction. Exploring fictional worlds and fictional characters and fictional relationships.
It would say nothing about me if he hadn't also linked two of my longest 4am rants about loneliness and deserving love.
5. Mystery WIP. I started plotting it yesterday and I've already lost steam. We'll see if it ever gets written.
25/12, 11:27AM
basiltea: Of course I'll help you.
basiltea: You can't be trusted to handle this alone and make it work.
Excalisbury: I LOVE YOU
basiltea: I'm just saving you from yourself.
6. Picture book story! The issue with this one is that I have to rewrite it completely. I have @johnwgrey's super useful notes, but I hate rewriting and editing with a burning passion, and this story needs so much work it hurts. But I'll do it!
Of course Snow had no reason to trust him. The fact that Baz had decided he’d never even try to hurt him again couldn’t erase five years of antagonism. Especially because Snow didn’t know about his change of heart. (It would’ve been ridiculous. Hey, Snow, I decided I don’t hate you anymore. Quite the opposite, instead. Can I kiss you?)
That was a lot. I feel like Simon and Baz are possessing me because I want to write SO MUCH, I literally can feel the words pushing to get out, but the second I open a doc it all fades out. Ugh. Hopefully I'll be more motivated in the morning.
So many no pressure tags for you lovelies:
@wellbelesbian @urban-sith @tea-brigade @sillyunicorn @mostlymaudlin @facewithoutheart @palimpsessed @otherpeoplesheartachept-2 @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @forabeatofadrum @fatalfangirl @prettylightsbigcity @whatevertheweather @jbrrring @confused-bi-queer @moodandmist @bookish-bogwitch @letraspal @dragoneggos @captain-aralias @takitalks @excalisbury (stealing your @ for Simon's Discord username hahaha) @otherworldsivelivedin @cutestkilla @ileadacharmedlife @gekkoinapeartree @bazzybelle @basiltonbutliketheherb @messofthejess @ivelovedhimthroughworse @nightimedreamersworld @artsyunderstudy @foolofabookwyrm-activated @ionlydrinkhotwater @yellobb @orange-peony @ic3-que3n @whogaveyoupermission @katmiscellanious @yeonjunenby @erzbethluna @larkral @chen-chen-chen-again-chen @shrekgogurt @raenestee @onepintobean @stitchyqueer @hushed-chorus
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okay pt. 2 to this bc i made myself sad with the first part :')
They were back at Skyhold... that is, he was back at Skyhold, having returned with Varric and Cassandra, and Solas was nowhere to be found. The mages had snuck away after their altercation and he’d been poring over the fight. Both fights, really.
He was still pissed off but he couldn’t deny the growing swell of guilt. “My friend is dead.” It couldn’t be easy. Atros didn’t understand Solas, had never understood him, but he had seen that the man was gentle, that he was compassionate, and that he cared deeply and tried to help whenever he could. He kept trying to make sense of the situation and then shying away from it.
What if it had been one of his friends who had died? He didn’t know who his friends were, couldn’t recall any he’d use the term for... except maybe Solas. Trying to think it through like that was ridiculous though. What if Solas had died, and Solas had yelled at him for mourning Solas? No, it was ludicrous. He just wouldn’t be able to understand. He’d never understood the mage and it didn’t seem like that was going to change tonight.
But he did understand that he’d fucked up. That he’d lashed out at a horrible time. And he did understand that Solas might never return. That he might have ruined everything.
What was there to ruin?
He’d been in the rotunda for some time now, sitting at the man’s desk and idly toying with a quill he’d left there. He had considered looking through his books, trying to find something of interest, trying to sate the curiosity that was ever-present, but he felt he’d caused enough damage for one day. So it was just him and this damn quill, surrounded by Solas’ art and the faint tang of his paint that smelled like him and Atros was trying so hard to ignore that being the main reason he was here. It was comforting and familiar.
He jolted when the door opened and stood up quickly, almost guiltily, dropping the quill back to the desk like it’d burnt him. Solas stood in the open doorway, looking icy and distant. “Inquisitor.” The greeting was cold and Atros bristled before he forced it down and away. He didn't want to pick another fight. He was just surprised that Solas was back. Pleasantly surprised - but that was all.
That was all, right? He tried to ignore the rush of relief, not wanting to untangle the implications of it right now. Or ever.
“You’re back,” he announced awkwardly, unnecessarily. Solas scoffed.
“I’m not one to abandon my responsibilities. Nor my promises.” That was targeted and his hands clenched, watching as Solas’ eyes narrowed slightly. He’d noticed. Atros took a deep breath and forced his hands to relax.
“Guess not,” was all he said, stepping back from the desk. It felt too weird to be there with the mage in the doorway. Like an inversion of their usual dynamic. Instead he walked towards the scaffolding, leaning against the armature. “Look...” he trailed off, unable to maintain eye contact.
“Spare me.” He snapped to attention at the cold response, watching as Solas strode purposefully over to his desk. “You have made your priorities abundantly clear, Inquisitor. I shall not trouble you with my personal affairs again.” He picked up the quill and tossed it aside like it was stained. He glared, feeling the same pulse of anger that he’d felt on the field.
“Dammit, I’m trying here,” he snapped, pushing off the scaffolding. “I get it, you’re pissed, but-”
“Pissed?” Solas whirled around, that same heat in his eyes as before. “You think I’m angry? No, Inquisitor, I’m mourning. I lost someone dear to me today and all you can think about is yourself. Well, I’m here. I will follow your command. But do not expect me to salve your wounded ego.” He took a step back. Just like before. Fuck. He hated it when Solas made him retreat, he hated it. He hated him. The smug, sanctimonious bastard.
“Hey, fuck you!” He closed the distance and this time Solas didn’t back down, didn’t make himself any less threatening, just met his eyes with a cold intensity. “You think I need you? You think I’m here for you to comfort me? You don’t know anything about me!” Fuck. How many times have they had this fight? His voice, his words, it all flooded him with a sickening sense of familiarity. Would they ever stop? He growled, frustrated, and turned away. “Shit. No, I’m... look.” He was forcing his voice down but he couldn’t meet Solas’ eyes. Not right now. “I just- I didn’t know if you’d come back.” Solas laughed, so condescending and sharp that it made him want to punch the damn mage. He restrained himself. “You’re being an ass right now, but I guess that’s fair.” He had to force each word out, but at least Solas didn’t laugh again. He didn’t respond at all, in fact. Atros still couldn’t meet his eyes. “Enjoy this. You’re not going to hear it again. But...” he took a deep breath and finally looked up, meeting his gaze as evenly as he could. “I’m sorry.” Solas blinked, clearly taken aback.
Atros, meanwhile, felt like his skin was on fire. He felt itchy and desperate to flee and-
Solas hand settled so gently around his wrist. Then his posture softened so fast that Atros briefly thought he was falling, unaided by the fact that the mage looked absolutely worn and exhausted.
“Thank you,” he said quietly, squeezing Atros’ wrist gently before withdrawing. He took a step back, leaning against his desk, and Atros took that as his cue to leave.
He was glad Solas was back.
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Saturday in the Greenhouse...
CW: Swearing
It was a late September afternoon, the last of the summer warmth was slowly leaving the grounds of Hogwarts and the cool autumnal breeze was bringing in deep shades of red, yellow and orange on all the trees that surrounded the greenhouses.
Regulus Black was alone, his outer robe and bag were discarded on a bench, his shirt sleeves were rolled up and his tie was loose around his neck. He’d put his wand behind his ear and his face was deep in concentration as he sketched mandrake leaves in his workbook making sure to label all the correct parts and their uses.
He was leaning over on a workbench surrounded by all types of magical and unusual greenery. He had always preferred to do his herbology homework this way, he didn't think you could truly capture a plant by copying someone else's sketches from a book, you had to study the living thing.
Of course, none of his friends agreed with him, well maybe Pandora did but she had better things to do on a Saturday so here he was alone, quite frankly just how he liked it.
His silent study was abruptly interrupted when the doors of the greenhouse swung open.
“Now, I expect each one of those pots to be scrubbed ready for my classes on Monday,” Professor Sprout said firmly.
Regulus closed his eyes and took a deep breath rubbing his hand on his temple annoyed. How dare someone get a Saturday detention when he wanted to study? He started to gather up his sketches and notes.
“And Mr Potter….no Magic, your wand please,” she said and with that Regulus heard the doors go again.
Well, Fuck.
Not only had his study session been interrupted, but it had also been interrupted by the most arrogant, loud and obnoxious person at Hogwarts. There was no way he’d be able to sneak out without Potter seeing him and calling him some ridiculous nickname or teasing him about being Sirius’s baby brother. For some reason, because he was Sirius's best friend James Potter thought he had some kind of claim over Regulus, and Regulus hated it. Why couldn't it have been anyone else? He’d even take Sirius himself…
As these thoughts swirled through his head, he stepped back and carelessly knocked a watering can from a shelf behind him. It came down with a loud crash.
Well, Fuck.
“Hey who goes there, Demon reveal yourself” Potter shouted as he walked around the corner and came face to face with Regulus, his body still ridged from the crash.
A big grin spread across Potter’s face he looked delighted. Regulus hated it.
“Well if it isn’t my little Reggie, got detention too have you? What a naughty boy you are, what did you do? I promise I won’t tell Sirius,” He said walking towards him and throwing his arms around Regulus’s shoulder.
“Me? Well, Sirius put a baby chomping cabbage in Snape’s bag, and then when he found it Snape the little bugger said it was me? And can you believe it your beloved brother let me take the fall, oh how I was wounded.” He lent back putting his hand to his forehead in a fake fainting motion.
Regulus shrugged him off, he hated being touched, his face turned to thunder and carried on packing away his things.
“Ooo silent treatment, how very mysterious you are.” Potter looked at the sketches Regulus was throwing in his bag, and grabbed one.
“Oh, so you are studying? Should have guessed, no way you'd ever get a Saturday detention.” Potter looked at him his grin just as big as ever. He held up the sketch.
“Wow, Reg these are so good! Mysterious and arty, what more could a girl want?” He said fluttering his eyelashes.
Regulus scowled and snatched the paper back, “Shove off Potter, haven’t you got pots to be scrubbing?” He snapped
“Woah, touchy baby Black, it really does run in the family” Potter chuckled to himself.
He then flicked his wand and the pots started to stack and the dirt on them vanished. Potter nodded his head with a satisfied grin on his face.
Regulus rolled his eyes, “you aren’t supposed to use magic? Didn’t she confiscate your wand?”
Potter snorted, “ah Regulus, so young, so good, so innocent. Professor Sprout took my fake wand, the one I always keep on me for this very reason.”
“What if she checks?” Regulus didn't know why he was asking this, it’s not like he cared.
“Well in six years of detentions no one ever has, so I doubt they’d start now” Potter replied with a sly smile.
“Whatever” Regulus grunted as he pushed by Potter on his way to the door.
“Leaving already? I thought we could talk, catch up like old friends do” Potter fake cried running after him.
Regulus kept on walking forward and threw his hand back towards Potter with only two fingers on display.
“Well now I am telling Sirius,” Potter said with laughter in his voice.
Regulus kept walking.
“Your sketches are really good Reg, I really meant that” Potter shouted, not following him this time.
Regulus stopped for a moment but then carried on, pushing the greenhouse doors open.
He couldn’t wait to get back to his dorm and tell Evan and Barty what an absolute prick James Potter had been.
#regulus black#james potter#jegulus?#enimes to lovers#he just wants to study#fanfic#oneshot#marauders headcanon#marauders#james potters birthday#yesterday#enimies to friends to lovers#demon reveal yourself
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So I’m trying to follow the advice of successful authors to write every single day. I set my daily goal at 1k-3k words per day, and I stop anywhere within that range as soon as my writing quality starts to diminish from any mental exhaustion.
I started the second draft of my novel (a companion to a punk/rock concept album I’ve been working on over the last couple years) on Wednesday. I’ve made sure to work on the book on all 6 days so far. Wednesday through Monday. This will say I posted it on Tuesday, but that’s because I haven’t gone to sleep yet. 🙃 I made sure to write a minimum of 1k words each day. If I reach 1k that’s a decent day, 2k is a good day, and 3k is a great day. I only hit 3k once, Monday night, where I got sucked into the story and wrote a ridiculous 3,598 words, after which I stopped, despite only being a couple pages away from the end of the chapter. I really wanted to just finish the chapter, but I had promised myself I would stay within a limit, and so I did. There were two days where I found it difficult to get to 1k words, and it took me almost just as long to get to 1300 as it had taken me to get to 3k today. Everyday was a little different, depending on the difficulty I was having with different sections/scenes/chapters in this story. I’ve been stopping anywhere within a scene or chapter once I decide I’m too tired to write as well. I’ve found it fairly easy to pick up from wherever I left off the previous day, so no need to push myself past my limits unnecessarily just to finish any particular section.
Results so far are 14,493 words written in 6 days. I worked anywhere from 2 hours most days, to 4-6 hours on the few days I had written over 2k words in a sitting, typing 10wpm at the slowest (lots of pauses) to 50wpm at the fastest (this speed was rare tbh). Not only is my weekly word count very high from following this advice, but I’ve also seen greater improvement than expected in prose, descriptive detailing, and dialogue within my story. I’ve never felt so proud of my writing before.
I do admittedly write fast. I averaged 4K-8kwpd when writing the first draft, as I was focused on getting the story into the real world, not on making it good. But I would often only write 1-2 days per week, and sometimes take weeks or months off between bouts of writing. It was very clearly unsustainable. I had gone full pantser as well for the first draft. I don’t think that kind of writing speed would be possible if I were following a proper outline. The point of putting myself into a 1k-3k limit was to make writing daily a more obtainable goal, and to give myself more time to really get deep into the story while I write.
A daily writing goal doesn’t have to be a minimum of 1k words either. At 300 words per day, a person would still complete a 50k word novel in 6 months, and they would see improvement in their writing over time from all of that beautiful daily practice.
So yeah, when the top authors in the world keep giving us the advice of “write everyday no matter what,” when we ask how to become better writers, they’re not fucking around. It really does work, and the good results are quick to present themselves. I highly recommend giving it a shot.
#writing#writing books#writers on tumblr#aspiring writer#aspiring author#authors#just writer things#lgbtq writer#writerslife#writing tips#writing advice#daily writing#daily writing challenge#1000 words
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WIP whenever meme
I'd not come across this one before and don't know the rules, so apologies if I'm doing it wrong! Tagged by the lovely @captastra and I am assuming from the name that this is about posting a piece of a WIP at some stage in its development at some point.
So, hoping I've got that right, and thanks for the tag!! and here's the opening of my long-half-finished summer cricket league story.
Setting is in the Guau-guau 'verse, which features the Rogue One crew as everyday people in west London. This is for @thenewleeland by the way; long-promised, maybe one day soon to be delivered!
The cricket match
In Re. yr. interest in local club league, the email was titled. Bodhi blinked at his phone screen. In Re. yr. He tried to remember when he’d last seen a wording like that. Informal in a way, but the informality of – what – his grandparents’ generation? It made him weirdly uncomfortable.
As he opened the email, Luke came into the sitting room of their flat carrying the tea tray and Jyn began hastily sweeping papers and books off the table. Bodhi read quickly and started to swear under his breath, and they both looked round.
“What the - Bo, are you okay?” Luke sounded completely taken aback by the strong language. “Is something wrong?”
“Oh fuck, fuck,” Bodhi said again. “I’ve made a total cock-up.” He rubbed the back of his neck, wishing he could undo the impulsive action of a few days ago that had led to this.
“Why, what’s going on?” Jyn asked. “Is something wrong at flight school?”
“What? Oh no, nothing like that. It’s about cricket.”
“You’re dropping f-bombs over the cricket?” Luke smiled. “Aww, honey, it’s just a game.”
“It’s about our little team. I think I – I think I may have got us in deep shit.”
His fiancé and sister exchanged a glance and blinked at one another, like actors in a comedy, before Jyn came over and sat down beside him on the sofa. “Talk to me, Bodhi. Is it Ealing council? If we’re in trouble for paying ball games in the park or something, remember that’s on all of us, not just you. No-one told us it was against the rules.”
“We didn’t ask,” Luke pointed out.
“Yeah, well, everyone plays sports there all the time so I don’t see why we should have to ask when—"
“It’s not the council,” Bodhi interrupted. “It’s – it’s all my fault. Remember we were talking about if we could maybe join the local club league next year, if we could get a full team together? I – I contacted them. Just to ask. It’s about that. It’s a formal invitation. From the captain of the current title holders. To a, to a, like, a challenge match, to test if we’re good enough.”
“Blimey,” Jyn said. “A challenge? Straight off the bat, if you’ll pardon the phrase? That’s a bit over the top, isn’t it?”
“He suggests we have a friendly limited-over match one weekend. And then he goes into all the details about requirements and allocated drinks breaks and whatnot and it all gets terribly formal and oh shit, it’s just - I’ve really fucked up so badly. I should never have asked.”
He handed her the phone and she read while Luke poured him tea, and opened the biscuits.
“So,” Jyn said, accepting a mug and then a hobnob “this WH Tarkin brackets Captain close brackets wants to have a 40-over match one Saturday between his team from – Empire Gyms, hah! – and us. The sides to provide one umpire each and tea to be at Empire Gyms’ expense as being the senior team. Crikey, how ridiculously formal. He makes it sound like a duel. Okay, who’re we going to field then? Bags I bat at number four.”
“Jyn, come on, we’re no way ready to play a formal match, we’ve just been knocking a ball about and having a laugh.”
“We’ve been challenged,” Jyn retorted. “By some pompous old buffer who thinks the local club league is his baby. Talk about a big fish in a small pond. He sounds so smug. Someone should show him the little folks can play too, thank you very much Mr Tarkin.”
“Jyn, no…”
“Jyn yes. Seriously. We can’t just get all British and embarrassed and say we didn’t mean it. We’ve been challenged to a fight, we have to turn up at least. Bodhi, come on!”
“Tell her she’s nuts,” Bodhi implored; but Luke was grinning at his future sister-in-law’s excitement.
“If we don’t even show up, then for sure, we’ll never get into the league,” Jyn went on. “If we give it a bash then at least we’ve taken a chance and had a go.”
She passed the phone to Luke. “Read it. Tell me I’m not over-reacting. This bloke sounds so bloody old-school, and really possessive. It’s like all local cricket is his domain and none shall enter the realm without his say-so. I want to punch his nose already and I haven’t even met him.”
#my writing#wip whenever#guau-guau 'verse#@captastra#@thenewleeland#thank you for the tag#cricket match AU
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Might piss some people off with this, but it needs to be said.
Example #384329482742 of how NOT to critique/review writing: This.
No opinion is universal. No feelings are universal. What one person finds to be awful writing is what someone else would consider a masterpiece.
Insulting it with remarks of "This book is so bad", "it's boring and no one cares", and "this is stupid" over everything you dislike about it is not constructive or helpful, and telling other people how to write their books is just plain bad practice.
Are there extremes to be avoided? Yes, of course. Nobody wants to be faced with the ENTIRE cast of Naruto and Naruto Shippuden in the very first episode, and nobody wants to be faced with a million in-depth character introductions in the first chapter either.
But some people enjoy a fleshed out cast early on, so 4-5, maybe 6 characters is perfect for some people. Others prefer a lone protag, so anything over 1 is too much. Telling people NOT to introduce more than 3 characters in the first chapter can be taken either way (good or bad) but putting it as a hard and fast rule is just not the way to go.
I think the two things about this that irk me the most are:
"Worse than fanfictions" and "pointless dumb conversations"
"Worse than fanfictions" is probably the shittiest way you could say it. Know why? Because there are a fair chunk of fanfictions that are better than some of the shit on the NYT Best Seller list. "Worse than fanfictions" implies you see fanfic as an inferior writing form, that it's inherently worse than original fiction. That's so fucking elitist and such a ridiculous view to have. As if writing fanfic means you're a subpar writer, inferior to original fiction. Fuck that, and fuck anyone who thinks that.
"pointless dumb conversations" irks me because who are you to say what's pointless or dumb? Who are you to say it's even bad if it is pointless? If every single interaction, every single word and event, is of deep, powerful significance, then NONE of them are. "When everyone's super, no one will be" applies UNIVERSALLY. If every single statement and event has deep significance, then why should we care so much? Oh man, so excited to see Deep Quote #237492872978 after Major Event #284739467235734872 here in the third chapter, so very- where's the substance? Where's the character? Where's the personal touch?
Look, I get it. You want the booktok experience of "grip me by page three and don't let me go until I've finished the book" but that just isn't how it works. "Ooh keep reading, it ramps up, but does it really?" Yes! It does! That's how things work!
You start small. Introductions, setting the stage, establishing the story and it's elements, and then you build, you crescendo, until you hit a climax, and then you relax, you coast down.
Don't go around telling people to write the way you have here. You want to know what's really stupid?
Demanding people cater to the most anti-reading readers. You could be writing instead of reading? Is reading such a goddamn chore?
To anyone and everyone who made it this far, here's MY advice:
Write your way. Ignore OPs godawful "advice" and write YOUR way.
There are a billion people writing to appease algorithms and tiktok-level attention spans. We don't need MORE people dumbing down the writing, I promise you.
Write YOUR way. If it happens to be exactly what OP describes, that's fine! As long as you're writing that way because it's just your way of writing.
Anyone can write how they're told to write. Only you can write the way YOU write. So do your thing, your way, and you'll find your audience. People like OP seem to think every book needs to cater to their tastes or else it's bad writing, when in reality, every book just needs to cater to the author's taste. Their audience will find them, and those who don't like it can fuck off and read something else.
Things that immediately turn me off a fiction book
I'm pretty picky with what I read, because the time I spend reading is time that I could spend writing. I generally know if I will like a book within the first chapter, and I feel no shame in giving up if I'm not vibing with it.
And no, I don't believe in the "oooh read further it warms up" because does it? Does it really? Do I want to waste time finding out?
Frankly, at this point in life, I read more nonfiction than fiction because there's just so. many. bad. books. that are getting published. Worse than fanfictions.
Anyway, here are the things that make me give up. Maybe hearing this will help you as you write your own masterpiece.
Too Many Proper Nouns
Three characters maximum in the first chapter or two. Do not throw dozens of people at me. I will get confused and give up. Let me get to know the main character, by themself or with a few of their closest companions, before you make me remember everyone else. And go deep with those characters! I want someone to stick with!
You can reference other characters, to create a sense of a deeper world, but do not go all-in on them. Make it clear that they are just there to provide a bit of context, and we don't have to remember them yet. We should only be meeting three characters maximum.
Throwing Us Immediately Into a Dramatic Action Point
This is controversial I know, but I hate when something immediately starts with a battle. I don't care if any of these people live or die. I don't know them. I haven't grown attached to any of them.
Even just a page or two to get to know them first will help. You can have them gearing up for a battle, thinking about what's going to happen, maybe talking to their friends, maybe checking their armor, whatever feels natural for them. But do not just start with stabbing people! I don't care about them yet!
Too Many Details
Many this is just me, but I simply do not care about every piece of armor your character is wearing. I don't need to hear a play-by-play of every single color of every single thing because I don't care. Pick out a few specific things for me to focus on and that's it. Stop overloading me with colors and patterns and armor styles.
Yes, yes, you've done your research on historically accurate gear. That's great. It would be good for a movie. But if I have to look up different armor pieces every five seconds, I am glossing over it and moving on. I don't care. I'm here for the story. If I wanted an infodump about medieval armor, I would simply pick up a nonfiction book (and maybe I will).
White Space Syndrome
Tell me what the overall scene looks like instead of all these hyperspecific details of certain objects, like carts or emblems or whatever. I want to know where I am!!
Don't just say "a forest." Tell me what kind of forest. Tell me if it's a young forest or an old snarly forest or a swampy forest or a cold alpine forest.
Don't just say "a castle." Tell me if it's a bustling castle or a gloomy castle or a rundown castle.
Don't just say "on the sea." Cold sea? Tropical sea? Far far away from land or is land in sight? These are the things I want!
Too Much Backstory
For the love of god do not explain the entire history of this culture in the first chapter. The first chapter is for getting to know the characters we're going to be following. You can introduce those things slowly and carefully as the story unfolds.
I get that fiction writers are delighted by all the worldbuilding (or research, in historical fiction) they have done. But the reader does not care right away. They need to get invested before all those little specifics matter at all. My eyes glaze over and I give up because I don't want to have to remember all of that all at once. It's like you just threw a college textbook at my face.
Plus, if you're doing third-person limited, you have to remember that the character is not going to be thinking all of that! They won't say all of that either! Because they know all of that!
Even a general on the brink of a major battle is not going to go "yes, this all dates back to when we took Iuanfutila back in 181, when the brave Iuanfutilans protested the rule of our Yawwbaawnwhryr leaders ...." They are focused on the present moment, and they may discuss the backstory later. Tell us what we need to know now because that is what the character would be thinking too.
"Oh, but Topazadine, how will the readers understand the context if I don't tell them??"
There's a battle. Two groups are at war. Or something was stolen. Or two people are fighting. Whatever. We understand those things. We can get the basic gist of how things are going to play out by just showing us these things happening. Then, as we have gotten a feel for the characters, you can tell us more about the context.
If you walk into a store that's being held up by an armed robber, do you give a shit about his backstory, or do you only care once that person has been arrested and you have to testify? I think we know the answer. You're not going "ohhh why is he doing this??" at first. You're going "HOLY SHIT THERE'S A GUN WHAT'S GOING TO HAPPEN NOW???" and then you'll care about the other stuff later.
Too Much Play-by-Play
I also do not need a play by play of a fight scene. I need to know the general movements, and then the overall atmosphere. I want to feel what the character feels rather than feel like I'm watching a football game.
Your reader will fill in the gaps if you give them enough information, but when you overload them with every single action, they're now trying to keep track of what went where instead of how this moment is supposed to feel. And now the action and drama has gone out of the writing because it's become a manual of fighting techniques.
Pointless Dumb Conversations
"Oh, could you turn around for me? I want privacy."
"Sure, of course, I'm a respectable man." Manfred knew that a lady-in-waiting would be unsettled by the presence of a strange man, so he wanted to be respectful.
"Thanks."
"You're welcome."
Oh my god no one cares!!! No one!! We don't need this exchange. Cut it. This is stupid. Unless something is actually happening or something is meaningful about them saying this, shut up.
How to Not Write a Horrible First Chapter That Makes People Ragequit
Can you tell I'm mad today? I started and stopped three different books because they were all so bad.
Three characters max in the first chapter, with deep discussion of each. (One or two is better.) General appearance, demeanor, profession, whatever.
Restrain the urge to infodump! Dribble it out over the chapter!
Give the setting more attention than random little details that ultimately do not matter. I don't need to know the pattern of the curtains on the horsecart that's about to be burnt. Don't care.
Do not give a play by play of every single action that a character takes because it's boring and no one cares.
In media res is great but do NOT start with a big climactic intense battle or fight or whatever because we don't know these characters and don't know who to root for (or why we should care).
Your character is not going to give us a history lesson in why this conflict is happening. Do not do it yourself either. Give us just enough to get intrigued and no more. Think how your characters would think and what they would prioritize in discussions.
If a conversation is just pleasantries and has no purpose, drop it, we don't care.
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dont read this if youre intending on reading animorphs this is spoilers and its actually worth not getting spoiled
i think one of my favorite parts of the animorphs ending is like, in the first half of the series the readers and the protagonists both have this perception that the andalites are going to come and save everyone and that the kid’s guerilla warfare is just buying time for help from above but by the end its pretty clear that the andalites arent the savior figures theyve been led to think and they have to save themselves.
in a worse series, the fact that once the fleet finally shows up they intend on just wiping out the earth for damage control and dont want to save anyone would have been like. a shocking plot twist or something but in this its like theres this steadily building dread that thats how its going to be but you think MAYBE not. and then it happens and its like well built up to and makes complete sense. its this really harsh sort of moment in the general coming of age and loss of innocence theme of the story where they really DO have to save themselves and fight back against their own so called saviors. (and its like a component of the series general “do the ends justify the means” thematics bc technically it Was true that they were wholly devoted to ending the war, its just that they were willing to accept an entire planet as collateral damage to do so)
i dont know why k.a. applegate went this hard like the characters im talking about look like this
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vulnerable - ellie williams
summary: you and ellie are best friends, but there’s something more there. you figure out what that ‘something’ is together.
warnings: language, bit of mwah and sexual tension i guess. i only proofread this once, because if i do it more than once my autism and anxiety tells me its fucking horrible and to never ever post anything ever again and delete my tumblr account and move to mexico so im sorry if there are mistakes.
notes: the last of us ii ellie x fem reader. Fluff and i think a little bit of angst as well (if i did it well) also a bit of spice (nothing too spicy though) both characters are 19.
word count: 2.6k tehe
a/n: my first ellie fic, hope you guys like it. It’s literally been 3 months since ive posted anything and here i am, not dead!! (only on the inside) okay, i am putting the authors note here because i know a lot of you might not make it to the bottom, or might not read the bottom, but let me say this: if you’re one of my peter parker stans, i promise you, something is coming. I’m just exploring my horizons a bit and that being said, i am writing and accepting requests for peter parker and ellie williams. so please don't hesitate to msg me.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧ *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
Being born in an apocalyptic world full of devastation and death only promised one thing: loss. So, finding people, survivors to call your family was not something to take for granted.
Ellie was your best friend in the entire world (or whatever was left of it). You didn’t really know what friendship looked like before the world turned on itself, but you could imagine it looked something like your friendship with the girl.
You don’t even remember how the two of you started talking when you first arrived in Jackson. The both of you were shy and awkward and didn’t really go out of your way to make conversations with people, so it was baffling enough you had somehow managed to forge a friendship that didn’t only consist of stutters and awkward waves.
Everybody around you knew you were completely infatuated with each other, but they also knew it was a little more than just two best friends. Whenever you felt the tingles in your arm when hers brushed with yours, or the way your stomach flipped when she walked into a room, you told yourself it was because you idolised her. Because she was Ellie. How could you not? Despite this, you knew deep-down your feelings for the girl weren’t only friendly.
And there she was, laying right next to you in your bed, reading a comic she found while out on patrol in the voices she thought the characters had. Of course, she just ended up sounding like an absolute dork, but it was one of the things you loved about her. You were rolled on your side and facing her, while she was flat on her back, comic caressed between her long fingers.
“Wait, wait, wait. This one here,” she pauses to take a deep breath, switching herself into character but not being able to push past all the giggles escaping her mouth. You can’t help but laugh into her shoulder as well. Her happiness was contagious.
“Spinner-moth! I have come to avenge- “ she laughs through the most ridiculous voice, and you instantly explode with laughter, slapping the comic book out of her hands while you both shake until you have tears coming down your faces. You can’t help but watch her. Jaw tilted up to the ceiling, mouth open with laughter, nose scrunched and eyes clenched shut as tears escaped them.
For everybody else, it was rare to see moments like these; where Ellie was exclusively herself, giggling so hard her cheeks started hurting. But for you, you were lucky enough to see it fairly often. Ellie really did feel like she could be her weird, talkative, crazy self around you that she had suppressed around everyone else. This kind of comfort was a little frightening for her, she just had to hope and pray she didn’t come to regret it.
“You are such an idiot!” You swipe at the tears on your face and the two of you slowly calm down, the remainder of one last giggle lingering in the air before it's silent again.
There were many moments like these throughout your bond. Too many to count. You did remember the first time you ever saw the girl laugh. You’d just fallen off your horse after trying to mount it, landing straight in a puddle of mud. You almost hated her for laughing at you, but a few minutes later you joined her, and then she taught you how to properly get on a horse.
“Damn, my ribs are fucking aching.” Ellie snickers, rubbing at the bones of her ribs, lifting her shirt ever-so-slightly to expose her stomach beneath it. You fight to keep your eyes on her face, but that doesn’t last long before she disappears under the sheets. With a fond smile, you join her, both of you then lying on your side to look at each other.
You let your eyes flicker across her face. From the green eyes staring right back at you, to the auburn hair that was splayed across her face. You wanted to lay next to her forever and trace the freckles on her face. Your eyes fall to her lips that were lifted in a shit-eating grin.
“You good?” She asks you in a teasing tone, eyebrows scrunched together and raised.
Under the sheets, it really did feel like a riff to another world. Like the thin piece of fabric that was enfolding the two of your bodies somehow dragged you away from reality and humanity. It was somewhere you could be vulnerable and honest without facing the repercussions later. At least, that’s how it felt. And maybe that’s why you decided to blurt the first thing that came to your mind.
“Has anyone ever told you how pretty you are?” You reach out to brush some of her hair behind her ear, skimming the soft skin of her cheeks gently. Pretty was putting it lightly. Right then, under the blankets with only the dim lamp on in the otherwise dark night, beaming in just enough to see her face, she was perfect.
You can’t help but smirk cheekily when Ellie’s cheeks turn a shade of pink, and once she understands your expression, she grabs the collar of her shirt and lifts it up to cover her face, exposing the skin just above the belt of her jeans.
“You’re an asshole!” She scolds, but you can practically hear her smile.
“Hey! I’m serious.” You laugh, grabbing her wrists and pulling them away from her face until you can see her again. “You’re hot. And you know it too.”
Ellie snorts. “Oh, me? Yeah. I am so hot. I have a line at my door of people just trying to catch a glimpse of me.” You could tell Ellie wanted to divert the conversation. She didn’t like talking about herself much, or when the attention was on her, or compliments, or anything of the sorts.
“Okay, okay. I’ll drop it. But, just to clarify, I really do think you’re beautiful.” You bite your lip, feeling a wave of emotion wash over you at the girl’s pink cheeks and shy smile. It was like you were looking at her with newfound vision.
“Well, so are you.” Ellie makes an awkward face and does her best to avoid your eyes while she reaches out to you, fingers dancing delicately across the faded stretch marks below your hip that were exposed when your shorts had ridden up.
You watch her expression soften, eyes intently focused on the pattern her fingers were drawing against your skin.
“What are you thinking about?” You ask her, and your heart swells at the immediate smile that lights up her face. You resist the urge to brush your fingers against her cheek again. Instead, you rub your thumb over the scar on Ellie’s outstretched arm that was barely covered by her tattoo.
“You know,” she starts, a breathy laugh leaving her lips as she shakes her head at herself. “Joel told me a couple of days ago that he thinks you like me. Like, like me, like me,” Ellie only pauses for a moment, but in that moment, you feel your heart drop so hard you’re surprised it doesn’t shoot out and hit the wall behind you. “And I said, ‘well that’s not possible, Y/N doesn’t even like girls, so-“
“First of all, where is Joel? I’d like to personally deliver, this-” you stick your middle finger up at Ellie, “- to him,” there’s a playful grin on your face to compliment the amused one on hers. “And, second of all, who said I don’t like girls?” You raise an eyebrow at her, not missing the way her eyes light up in the slightest. She was sure you could hear her heart thumping in her chest.
Ellie splutters and trips over her words. “I didn’t- well, I just thought-“ she cuts herself short, lips falling in a straight line and making a face that says ‘shit, you got me.’
“Okay, that’s my bad. I shouldn’t have assumed,” a breathy huff escapes her lips and she covers her face with both of her hands, groaning into them.
You giggle at her reaction, still feeling the slightest bit giddy as well. Jesus, was your crush that obvious to everyone around you, but you?
“And thirdly, what if I do have a crush on you?” Your voice is a little higher than usual, probably because your hands were beginning to sweat and your throat was tightening up, the telltale signs you were nervous as fuck. You try to keep a neutral expression.
Ellie moves her hands away from her face, eyes flickering around your own, searching for a sign, any sign to tell her if you were joking. A few moments go by and she shakes her head, plastering a smile on her face with a roll of her eyes. “You don’t.”
“What if I do?” There’s no hesitation.
Her face falls back to a curious expression. This was everything she’d been waiting to hear.
This kind of comfort was a little frightening for her, she just had to hope and pray she didn’t come to regret it.
Her walls shoot up. Her cheeks turn pink. Her heart is pounding anxiously in her chest, looking for a way out. It also wants to shield itself from you. You, who could break it in seconds with two words; ‘I don’t.’
She bites her lip, a flash of a hurt expression lasting for a split second, before she’s throwing the sheets off her and climbing out of your bed. Your bed, where you comforted her whenever she fought with Joel, when she broke up with Cat, when she had a rough day patrolling. Where you kissed her forehead and stroked her hair until she fell asleep. The bed she slept in more nights than her own.
Maybe you were telling the truth. Maybe one day she’d believe you. But from the moment she met you, she spent everyday convincing herself she could never be with you, that she didn’t deserve you. She would only be your best friend, nothing more. It was too late.
“Ellie, what’s wrong?” You call out, jumping out of your bed after her and following her into the living room. Her hand was on the door-knob, ready to leave, but you grabbed her wrist to stop her. “Look at me.”
She freezes, lip between her teeth, eyebrows furrowed as she tries to compose herself enough to face you. What feels like hours later, she turns around, eyes immediately meeting with yours, and your heart aches at the tormented expression on her face.
“Ellie?” You had no idea what went so wrong, so quickly. You don’t release her wrist, scared that she would leave the second you did, but you move your other hand to her cheek, only for her to turn her face away. Your heart drops, you feel the tears spring to your eyes as she stares back at you like you’re not really there. “Can you just tell me what’s wrong?”
“You’re lying. I get it’s a joke, and it’s funny, but at what cost? My feelings?” She raises an eyebrow at you, she hoped you couldn’t see how hard it was to keep a straight face.
You just shake your head, mouth open in shock as you stare straight back at her. “Ellie, what if I do?” You push, eyes unwavering to show how serious you were.
“What are you doing, Y/N? Seriously.”
“I want you to tell me, what if I do? What if I do, and I’m scared to tell you, because I know you’ll freak out? Like you are right now.” You release your hold on her wrist, swatting frustratedly at the single tear that falls from your eye. “What if I do, but I’m scared you won’t want me back?” Your voice cracks as it falls just above a whisper and you turn away from her, holding your hands over your eyes and willing yourself to keep it together.
Ellie takes a deep breath in, feeling a little less vulnerable when you’re turned away from her. She wrings the ring and pinkie finger on her left hand, staring down at them as she fumbles over the words to say. She hated seeing you cry. She could count only on one hand how many times she’d been the cause of your tears.
“You know what my biggest fear is?” She looks back up and at your back, seeing your shoulders visibly stiffen at her words.
“Spiders.” You sniffle after a few moments, not daring to turn around.
Ellie looks down again, a small smile on her face at the fact you remembered. “That’s kind of my, bullshit-superficial answer I give people,” she fidgets with her hands again, tongue toying with the inside of her cheek as she ponders whether or not to tell you. “My biggest fear is… Losing people - you know, ending up alone and stuff.” She wipes her hand across her nose, not looking up as she sees you turn around out of her peripheral vision. It was easier to talk to you when it seemed like you weren’t there.
“So, when I realised I liked you, I convinced myself that nothing could happen between us, that you’d never like me back, because liking you and thinking you didn’t feel the same seemed a lot better than liking you and trying to, you know, be more than friends, and then losing you because of it.” She admits, only looking up when your feet move towards her, just in time for your hands to cup her cheeks and pull her into a kiss.
Ellie’s eyes are open in shock, but once she recovers, she’s kissing you just as hard, just as passionately with a level of delicacy at the same time. She kisses you like she’d been dreaming of this moment since forever. She’d never tell you that she had.
Her hands grab onto your wrists, then they’re on your cheeks, then they’re resting on your sides, right where your ribs are. She doesn’t know where to hold you, she can’t get enough.
Your tongues lock in something of a frenzy. Lines are blurred, friendships are ruined, but something else, something better is sizzling in its place. Something Ellie is already terrified to lose.
“I don’t wanna lose you,” Ellie slightly pulls away, breath tickling your lips and words falling out in pants. Eyes glued shut, forehead tilted down to yours, she doesn’t see the look of pure love in your eyes as you stare up at her.
“Then don’t.” You whisper, stroking your thumbs over the freckles on her face.
Minutes pass like this. Your hands on her cheeks, hers on your side, foreheads touching and eyes closed.
“Everything has changed.” Ellie mumbles after some time, her voice hoarse and crackly.
“Change isn’t always bad, El.”
She opens her eyes at this, just as you do, and she smiles.
A small, simple smile that told you she trusts you. That she’d try with you.
You bite your lip, trying to stop your own smile from being so gigantic that you look like an idiot.
“You know, I’m still going after Joel.” You remind her, butterflies swarming in your stomach when her eyes meet with yours, a cheeky glint in them.
“Be my guest.”
Ellie was right, everything did change in that moment. Your safe, happy and healthy friendship morphed into something a little more dangerous. You both knew it was something you had to work hard at. Being in a relationship was hard enough, throwing an apocalypse in to the mix added a certain feeling of doom to it.
Between the two of you, there was a silent agreement. You’d have her and she’d have you. No matter what. Two best friends who loved each other, kissed each other, told each other things only lovers do.
She’d give her life for you, you’d do the same for her.
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