Most of these are taken from my Wattpad account! (Twtrash01)
Send me requests for the following Fandoms: Teenwolf, Vampire Diaries, Dolantwins, OUAT(Peter Pan, Robbie Kay, Supernatural, Suicide Squad, The 100. Basically I’ll write for any fandom. I’ll write non-smut as well. Be specific in what you want! *I DON’T OWN ANY GIFS* I know this is Peter Pan but just pretend because It fits.
(Happy Valentines Day! Enjoy!❤️) “Sweetheart? I’m home.” I heard my boyfriend of three years call out.
dine and dash (stefan salvatore au ft klaus mikaelson, part xi)
Plot: You and Stefan dated for three years while in high school. You
both thought your relationship would last, but college managed got in
the way. So you two decided to break up. You left to
college in Massachusetts and Stefan stayed in
Mystic Falls. While you were gone, things changed between you and a
certain original, but you hadn’t yet let go of Stefan. Now, almost six
years later, you’re both invited to Bonnie
and Kol’s wedding. It’s time for a reunion.
Pairing: Kol x Bonnie, Damon x Elena, Caroline x Enzo, Klaus x Reader, Stefan x Reader (mentioned), Stefan x Ivy
Warnings: language maybe? strong feelings
A/N: OKAY SO I KNOW I SAID I MIGHT MAKE THIS 13 PARTS, BUT I LOVE THIS ENDING AND WOULD LIKE TO KEEP IT THIS WAY. I know we haven’t gotten to the wedding festivities or anything yet, and I know I said I’d like to write about that, but I don’t know. this feels right. of course, the final say is up to you babes. pls read this and let me know what you think! (no gifs
“Alright,” you take a deep breath, calming yourself as you speak. “I
want to apologize. I led you on for years, kept Stefan in my heart when I
should have let go. You’re right, and it was foolish of me. I’m sorry,
“Hey, hey,” he whispers, one hand reaching down and
grabbing both of yours. “Look, that’s all in the past. You needed
closure, and I should have been more understanding. I’d never been loved
the way that you loved Stefan, I’d never experienced that love myself.
At least not until I realized the depth of my feelings for you. Then I
“Nik,” you whisper his name apologetically, looking over at him and noticing a small smile on his face.
not done yet, love,” he whispers right back, pulling into the hotel
parking lot. “I just want to say that you’re forgiven. I understand, I
do. Now it’s my turn to apologize,” he slides the car into a spot and
turns off the engine, sighing as his eyes meet yours. “I apologize for
not telling you how I felt sooner. I apologize for saying the horrible
things I said earlier today. I apologize for bringing Valerie into this
whole mess. After everything we’ve been through, I can’t seem to shake
you off. There’s not a single time that I’m not thinking of you. And
listen, I know there’s no way that I can wipe away all the negative
things that I’ve done, but I would like to try. If you’d let me, of
“Klaus, I’d–” he places two fingers over your lips, not
allowing you to answer right away. He just poured his heart out to you,
he loved the pleasantly surprised look in your eyes and he didn’t want
to forget that any time soon.
“I want you to take some time
and think it over, please,” he whispers, leaning forward and placing a
gentle kiss on your cheek before pulling back. “Come on, let’s go inside
and see what havoc they’ve wreaked.”
“Caroline,” Bonnie whines and stomps her foot as Caroline makes sure everyone is in their designated rooms. “Caroline! Are you sure we–?”
“Bonnie you and Kol cannot sleep together the night before the wedding! You two have to stay in separate rooms, no argument,” Caroline raises her brows at Bonnie, daring her to do the opposite of what she asked.
“But the wedding isn’t for another week! Are you seriously planning on keeping us apart for a whole week before the wedding?” Bonnie gives Caroline puppy eyes and Caroline bites her bottom lip.
“Bon, I don’t know. I have to consult with Y/N, and then I can–”
“I heard my name,” you and Klaus walk over to the two girls, a few bags in each of your hands. “What’s up?”
“Well, Bonnie wants to sleep in the same room as Kol until the night before. I said I’d have to consult with you before giving her an answer.”
“Before I let you know my take, I have one question: where the hell is the maid of honor?” You scoff, looking around for Elena. “We’re making all the tough choices and she is–”
“She’s on the phone with the DJ, yelling his ear off. She also just got off the phone with the priest,” Caroline shrugs and you both make a face.
“You know what? She can keep doing that. Now, I think Bonnie staying in the same room as Kol is a good idea, at least until the night before the wedding. Then she has to stay in her room. What do you think Care?”
“I think that’s a great idea. While she’s with Kol, you can sleep in her room since y’know, um,” Caroline clears her throat and looks away from Klaus.
“Right, Valerie,” you whisper, shaking your head as you think of the conversation you and Klaus just had in the car. “Well–”
“Actually she’s gone. She left,” Klaus speaks up and you all look at him, surprised and confused and relieved all at once.
“What do you mean she’s gone? Where did she go?” You furrow your brows at him and he looks down, slightly ashamed to own up to his failed tricks.
“She went back home, to Paris. She only accompanied me to help me explain myself to you,” Klaus shakes his head, slowly looking up at you. “She’s got a husband back home, some well-endowed French architect. They’re our allies and she offered to help me. She thought that if I finally admitted my feelings to you, I’d be less prone to committing massacres.”
“I bet she didn’t expect my newly found bloodthirst, huh?” You chuckle, taking in Klaus’s nervous appearance. “Either way, I’m spending the week in Bonnie’s suite. It’s bigger.”
“And bigger is better,” Caroline mutters under her breath causing Klaus to turn a bright red as you and Bonnie laugh uncontrollably.
“Right, well I’m just gonna, yeah I’m,” Klaus clears his throat, dropping the bags and slowly walking away from you three.
“I’m gonna take the bags to their owners, you two gonna be okay here?” You pick up the bags Klaus left behind and lift them along with yours, cracking your neck as Bonnie and Caroline nod.
“We’ll be okay. You be careful!”
“Will do, Care!” You call out and drop all the bags in their designated rooms. The last bag belonged to Stefan. You approach his room with a small smile on your face, the smile falling as soon as you hear the yelling. Stefan must’ve told her about what happened this morning.
“You kissed her, Stefan! Who’s to say you won’t do that again, huh? Who’s to say–?”
“Me! I say that I won’t do that again. Ivy, please,” you hear Stefan’s pleads as you stand right outside the door. You hear how much it pains him to even think of losing her.
“You said you didn’t care for her, Stefan. That’s clearly a lie. This entire time, all you’ve done is follow her around like a lost puppy,” Ivy’s full out sobbing at this point, this morning’s actions taking more a toll on her than you thought possible. “I love you, Stefan. I can’t be with you if you don’t love me, too.”
“But I do love you, Ivy. I love you so much,” Stefan’s voice is coming out in choked whispers as you hear footsteps approach the door. “Please don’t leave.”
“Stefan, I–” You knock on the door and interrupt Ivy, unable to take any more of Stefan’s pain.
“Guys? It’s me, Y/N,” you whisper, secretly hoping they wouldn’t open the door. “Look, I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation. I know you hate me, Ivy. I get it. I kissed Stefan and I shouldn’t have. He’s not with me. I didn’t take your feelings, or his, into consideration when I kissed him. But I swear to you that’s all that happened. The only reason I did it was to get some closure. Our breakup happened so quick; I spent the past four years thinking about what could have been, pining over unresolved feelings. I came here and saw him with you, smiling bigger than I’d ever seen. He loves you. I just wanted the closure that he seemed to have found. I’m sorry, Ivy. I swear that this is my fault. Stefan and I care for each other, but it’s just platonic. I promise. Besides,” you chuckle, wiping away a silent tear. “I almost killed his brother, so you have nothing to worry about.”
You hear a couple soft chuckles behind the door, a few quiet apologies and declarations of love before the door is opened.
“Here you go,” you whisper and hand the bag to Ivy, your eyes meeting Stefan’s grateful ones as you smile at the couple. “I’m so happy for you both.”
“I still hate you,” Ivy whispers and you laugh.
“Understood,” you nod and turn away, the door shutting behind you just as it had all those years ago. But this time you got your closure. This time you had something else to look forward to.
The Other End of the Hall
“Guys,” Damon walks into Caroline’s room, desperate to tell his friends about what he’d just witnessed across the hall… only no one’s paying attention. “Guys?”
Damon’s greeting goes unnoticed yet again as the girls’ voice gets louder, now joined by Enzo’s take on the centerpieces and Kol’s question about chicken tenders.
“Will everyone shut up?!” Damon’s voice grows a few octaves as the gang quiets down and looks at him. “Ladies, we have this week planned to a T. Caroline, you made sure of that. Bonnie, this is your wedding. None of us are gonna let anything go wrong. Elena, babe please. We need you to be the sane one right now. Kol, no chicken tenders at the wedding. Although I may be able to sneak a few into the reception for you? And Enzo, it’s too late to change any details about the centerpieces. Caroline and Y/N will have your head on a platter as the main centerpiece. Speaking of Y/N–”
“Oh come on, mate!” Enzo yells and everyone joins him, completely ignoring Damon’s previous comments. The yelling is louder than before and it’s now accompanied by obscene hand gestures. So Damon does the only thing he thinks will get everyone’s attention: he gets on top of a table and cups his hands to the sides of his mouth to form an impromptu megaphone.
“Y/N FINALLY MADE A CHOICE!”
It’s a full moon, the light bouncing off the waves and the waves bouncing off your heels as you stare into the lake. You wrap your arms around yourself, a smile on your face as the wind gently kisses your bare shoulders and stomach. You hear footsteps approaching and you let out a content sigh, closing your eyes as he sits behind you and wraps his arms around you from behind. His face has made its way in the crook of your neck, a blissful look on your face as his stubble brushes against your jaw. You giggle softly, finally happy.
“Y/N?” You smile as you hear your name rolling off his tongue. “Is everything alright?”
“Everything’s perfect,” you whisper, nuzzling into him as he places a kiss on the side of your head. Everything truly is perfect.
What if the Enchantress came one day late? What if
the ball went as
planned, and the Prince went to bed that night human and cruel, and the next day was alone when she arrived? What if the staff weren’t nearby when the curse was cast? What then,
“The prince [was] forgotten by the world, for the
enchantress had erased all memory of them from the minds of the people they loved….” Dark!Fic. Inspired by this savagely sad post of @batbobsession‘s.
Part I: Not A Care in the World
The ball was flawless. In the garden, the roses continued to reach to the sky, and the storm brushed away; the lights shut off in the palace, one by one, and the music faded to silence. The prince went to bed with one or two or three pretty women he wouldn’t care for by the next day. Up in his room, Lumiere popped open a bottle of champagne.
Plumette, lighting the candles by the bed, grinned at him over the flames. He laughed and raised his glass.
“Another sublime night, ça va, mon amour?” The door creaks and in come Mrs. Potts, Cogsworth, Chapeau, the visiting musicians. The word has quickly spread that Lumiere and Plumette are serving leftover croquembouche in their room; the staff find places to sit, glasses to drink from, hands to join and caress. Mrs. Potts, in a rocking chair, smiles and holds a sleeping Chip.
You swear you hear singing whenever you enter the music hall. The void of empty velour seats seem to grow more obsolete the longer you stare, the large glass chandelier appearing to snap off of its chain every single moment, all of the inanimate objects in the room singing a story of its own. But this time, you hear actual singing coming from the stage when you set your bag on a spare table backstage.
A rich tenor melody dances its way into your ears as you peek out behind the heavy curtain to see a dark haired man belting his heart out with a perfect balance of vibrato, volume, and voice.
You stand there in awe as he stops abruptly and turns around to gaze in your direction. Slow heel clicks resonate under your feet as you slowly step out from behind the black drape to see him looking at you curiously.
“Hello there.” He greets with a warming grin as you look somewhat shyly towards him.
“Hi.” You manage to say before a wave of embarrassment washes over you and you let out a nervous giggle.
“How long have you been standing there?” The man asks in a distinct French accent and you cross your arms across your chest as you try to look at him directly without a hint of timidness in your eyes.
“Long enough to hear you sing.” You reply as you brush a stray lock of hair away from your face. “You’re wonderful.”
“So I’ve been told.” He laughs and you smile at him. “When I was thirteen, they called me L’ange de la Musique because of my voice. I didn’t realize how much that would mean to me later on.”
“We never do. At least until it’s too late.” You nod and he smiles at you.
“I’m Arno.” He tells you and extends his hand.
“Y/N.” You reply and take his hand gently.
“So Y/N, what brings you to the Palais Garnier?” Arno inquires. “I don’t believe you came here only to hear me sing.”
“My mother was the primadonna for the Paris Opera many years ago and she was teaching me before she passed five months ago. I remember when she would bring me backstage and all of the performers were in their costumes, ready to give everything for the show. That was the moment I realized I wanted to be an opera singer. ” You pause as you try not to let your eyes shed any more tears before you continue.
“When I told her I wanted to follow in her footsteps and at least achieve the position of understudy for the lead of one of the opera’s upcoming productions, she was so happy and even promised to be there on opening night before she died. I suppose I came here to see if to show me that singing was worth my time and devotion.” You finish and for a moment, you think Arno’s giving you a pitying look, the ones you’ve seen before one too many times, but instead, he’s giving you a different look. One you can’t pin quite accurately just yet.
Arno nods understandingly as he paces in between the distance from you to the stack of sheet music he had placed down earlier before you see his dark eyes light up with what you believed to be an idea.
“Perhaps I can be your new teacher. That is of course if you want one at all.” He offers and you turn your head to stare at him so fast that you feel like you could’ve snapped your own neck.
“R-really?” You stammer as you gape at him.
“Oui, ma chérie. It would be my pleasure.” Arno replied and you engulf him in a hug which clearly shocks him, but you as well. You immediately let go of him and laugh slightly to try and shrug off any embarrassment you were currently experiencing.
“Thank you.” You reply and he picks up his music again.
“Meet me here tomorrow at noon. We’ll get started then.” Arno informs and takes his leave as you continue to stand there with a giddy smile on your face and hope in your heart.
‘The people weren’t wrong,’ you thought as you walked backstage. He truly was an angel of music.
Atlanta was home for almost eighteen years, and though I’ve only known Paris for the last nine months, it’s changed me. I have a new city to learn next year, but I’m not scared. Because I was right. For the two of us, home isn’t a place. It’s a person. And we’re finally home.
Lola and the Boy Next Door
“Are you ready?” he asks. “I am.” “Are you scared?” “I’m not.” He takes my hand and squeezes it. I hold my head high toward my big entrance, hand in hand with the boy who gave me the moon and the stars.
Isla and the Happily Ever After
“The last page.” He gestures towards the table, where a pencilled sketch is being turned into inked brushstrokes. It’s a drawing of us, in this café, in this moment. I smile up at him. “It’s beautiful. But what comes next?” “The best part.” And he pulls me back into his arms. “The happily ever after.”
“Atlanta was home for almost eighteen years, and though I’ve only known Paris for the last nine months, it’s changed me. I have a new city to learn next year, but I’m not scared. Because I was right. For the two of us, home isn’t a place. It’s a person. And we’re finally home.”