#guys...i hope you all had wonderful holidays and i wish each of you all the absolute best in 2024!

[steddiealltheway]

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays :) This is way longer than I thought it would be, but it's been a while since I've written, so I think I needed it. I hope you all have a wonderful end to your year <3

Steve thought it was fate when he reached into Dustin’s old Santa hat and picked up a crumpled piece of paper with Eddie’s name scribbled on it. He had a gift stored away for Eddie that he bought weeks ago, and he was hoping there would be some way to get it to him without making it a big deal or something. Miraculously, the tiny slip of paper gave him that chance.

Now, two weeks later, Steve feels like his nerves are on fire as everyone gathers around in his living room, waiting to receive their gifts.

He goes off to the guest bedroom where the party had dropped off their gifts under the bed with the promise of not peaking - per Steve's request. Mike complained that the system was a little bit much, and Steve couldn’t argue with him. He just didn’t want to give away that he was Eddie’s secret Santa.

And now that he has pulled all the gifts out from under the bed, his stomach churns and his heart races. He just hopes his gift doesn’t cross a line or bring up unwanted memories, especially since he and Eddie aren’t exactly best friends.

Well, okay, they’re close. Considering the number of times Dustin has insisted they all hang out now that they’ve all been trauma-bonded, Steve has spent a lot of time with Eddie. But he hasn’t gotten a lot of alone time with him.

Sure, there have been a few times when Eddie has stopped by work, but Robin was always close by - not that Steve minded at all, except he got tired of the looks she would give him after Eddie left as if she was expecting Steve to say something. He doesn’t know what exactly he would say, but he will admit that it was always sad watching Eddie go. Maybe he should tell Robin he wishes he could stay a little longer, maybe even after hours.

The thought reminds him of the one moment they spent alone that Steve can't help but recall often. Even his present to Eddie is based around that moment which resulted in him purchasing something definitely higher than the price limit, but none of the kids would know that so it’s fine.

There’s a light knock on the door behind him, and Steve turns around. “Hey,” Eddie says with a small smile. “Everything okay?”

Steve smiles back, willing his heartbeat to slow down a bit. “Yeah, just trying to figure out how to get them all at once.”

“Let me help,” Eddie says, already bending over to grab half the stack that Steve had pushed out from under the bed. “You don’t happen to have a Santa suit do you?”

Steve’s eyebrows furrow. “No?”

“Damn. Next year, okay? And I want to be Santa.”

The corner of Steve’s lip quirks up and Eddie's eyes light up, looking awfully proud of himself. The two hold the gaze for a few moments longer than they should, but it’s not like that's new to them.

“Guys! What’s the holdup?!” Dustin yells.

Steve sighs and offers Eddie a now irritated smile before leading the way to the living room, glancing down at the names on each present before handing them out. He and Eddie finish around the same time, and Steve notices there are two clear spots for them in the small circle on either side of Dustin. He almost makes a snarky comment to Dustin, but he holds his tongue, knowing Max and El will shoot them irritated glares if they start bickering.

"El, why don't you go first?" Steve suggests as he sits down, not giving the rest of the kids a chance to argue about it. After all, no one is going to protest after all that El did for them.

El smiles and carefully opens her gift, but Steve spaces out a bit, lost in thought about his gift and questioning if it will be an appropriate thing to bring up in front of the kids. Eddie had shared the moment only with Steve and even hesitated in doing so, so maybe he doesn't want it to be broadcast to the kids. Shit.

Steve snaps back to reality when El knee-scoots over to Dustin, pulling him into a tight hug and thanking him for her present. Dustin flushes an interesting shade of red that Steve is definitely going to bring up later when he himself isn't panicking. For now, he moves the game along. "Alright, Dustin gets to open his gift now since he was the Secret Santa," Steve announces, nervously glancing at Eddie, hoping the excited look doesn't mean the gift is from him. He's not sure if he's ready for Eddie to open his gift yet.

Luckily, the gift is from Lucas, and Steve breathes a sigh of relief. But as the game continues and more people unwrap their gifts, Steve finds himself getting a bit impatient as he waits for someone to get their gift from Eddie. It's only when Max is last to open her gift that Steve realizes that he and Eddie are the only two remaining which means...

"No way," Eddie says with a big grin. "We're the only two who got each other."

Steve slowly looks down at the gift in his hand, neatly wrapped with a beautifully done bow that seems so unlike Eddie who always seems to be in a rush, doing everything with an almost frantic energy that Steve kind of adores. He wonders what he must've been like sitting still, carefully folding each curve of newspaper and taping it all together before neatly tying the red ribbon around the box into a beautiful bow. "You did this?" Steve can't help but ask, hoping he didn't just stick his foot in his mouth.

"Yeah," Eddie says somewhat bashfully as he pulls his hair in front of his face. "You do the honors." Eddie gestures to Steve's present and nervously rambles, "It isn't much really..."

Steve carefully undoes each fold, seeing the care Eddie took in wrapping a small box that Steve pulls the lid off of. He stares down at a small metal-looking thing and picks it up off the paper it's on top of. He presses it and startles a bit as it buzzes.

"A hand buzzer," Dustin laughs in disbelief.

"Maybe you two need to hang out more," El suggests innocently.

Eddie clears his throat. "There's a note in there, too, but you don't have to read it out loud in front of the kids or anything."

Steve keeps ahold of the little buzzer and picks up the note, staring at a few numbers in confusion before following an arrow that elaborates 24/7 Walkie Channel - especially at night. Steve flushes a bit red at the joke, but as he reads further, he realizes it's not a joke at all. In fact, he knows exactly what this is referring to.

-:-:-:-:-:-

Eddie walks up to the counter of Family Video and raps his knuckles on the counter. "Now tell me, what exactly is behind that restricted section with the red curtains?"

Steve rubs his temples and gives Eddie an unimpressed look. "You know exactly what's behind there."

"Well, maybe I want to hear it from my favorite employee. After all, you're supposed to help me with all my needs."

"Alright," Robin announces loudly, "I'm taking my break."

Steve hears the break room door shut behind him, and he drops his head in his hands with a slight groan.

"That embarrassed, Harrington? I thought you were like the expert here. Especially since Robin isn't allowed back there, but..." Eddie trails off but suddenly his voice gets much closer yet softer. "Hey, sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. Sometimes I push too far without realizing and-"

Steve cuts him off with a short wave of his hand. "It's not that. You're fine really. Just didn't really sleep last night."

"Company or..." Eddie goes for a joke to lighten the second half of what he's implying.

Steve sighs and glances up at him. "It the 'or' option."

Eddie gives him a sympathetic look and glances around at the empty store before leaning on the counter, right into Steve's space, but it's comforting rather than intrusive. Eddie softly says, "I get it, man. The night terrors are... they're intense. I still see Chrissy when she..." He looks away, swallows hard, and takes a deep breath. "I get it."

Steve glances up and sees a matching haunted look in Eddie's eyes that Steve catches in the mirror from time to time. "It's harder late at night. I get this urge to reach out to everyone and make sure they're okay and..." Steve sighs and lowers his voice, "still alive." He shudders slightly and laughs humorlessly, "But it's not like I can just call everyone's house at night and wake up them and their family. I usually just wait for the urge to pass but it's harder for me with some people." Steve swallows hard, knowing what Eddie will ask next.

"Like who?"

Steve glances up at Eddie and says, "Robin of course because she's my best friend. Max is tough too because of how close she was to dying and you just never know if that thing will come back or not."

"He's gone for good this time. You know what Owens said," Eddie presses gently.

"Yeah, but I've heard it before," Steve argues. But he can't deny that things definitely feel more final now. Like maybe they're finally over. Still, he can't just let his guard down on the off chance that his gut isn't right for once.

Eddie shifts and nudges Steve's elbow with his own. "Anyone else though?"

Steve holds Eddie's gaze for a moment, and he sees the exact moment Eddie knows exactly what he's thinking as the memories of Eddie's lifeless body in Steve's arms flood in his head. "You were... gone there for a little while. And sometimes I wake up, and I think that you didn't make it. That the nightmare I keep having is actually reality."

Eddie gives him a pained look and places his hand over Steve's. "You can call me at any time. Day or night. I'll try my best to answer, especially at night."

"Eddie, I don't want to make you lose sleep any more than you already are."

"But I'm probably already awake. And I don't care if I lose sleep for you, okay?"

Steve glances up at him and flushes a bit as his eyes flicker down to Eddie's lips. For a moment, he thinks he might understand what Robin's looks mean, but he glances away before he can truly think about it. "That's not the only problem though," Steve confesses quietly.

Eddie just squeezes his hand, waiting for him to elaborate.

With a deep breath, Steve hooks his thumb on top of Eddie's pinky and squeezes back for some support. "I hate speaking in that empty house. My voice seems to echo, and it makes me feel more alone than I already am. And sometimes it feels impossible to speak about things. Like my voice doesn't work or something. I don't know."

"I get it," Eddie says simply, squeezing his hand again. "But really, if you ever need to call or stop by or anything. I'll be there." Steve holds Eddie's gaze, thinking maybe the upcoming night won't be so bad.

Before Steve can really say anything else, the bell on the front door dings loudly and he and Eddie practically jump apart. The customer doesn't even so much as glance at them, but they both still keep their distance, recognizing that the moment is over.

-:-:-:-:-:-

Steve stares at the little list in the note.

One Buzz: Checking in. I will buzz back so you know I'm okay. Two Buzzes: If you need to hear my voice. I will respond over the walkie and talk for as long as you like. Buzz multiple times, and I'll stop. And trust me, I will talk your ear off, so I won't get offended when you buzz. Three Buzzes: If you need me to call ever. Don't be afraid to use this one. Wayne is still working night shifts, so you're really no bother if you want to call first. But this way, I can be the one calling you so you don't have to worry about waking me up or anything. Really. The buzzes aren't too loud, so they shouldn't wake me up. Let me know if you want to add anything to this list. I have an identical list with my hand buzzer at home that I would be happy to add to at any time. Merry Christmas Love, Your Secret Santa

Steve stares at the note in his hand almost too stunned to speak. He doesn't think he's ever received a more thoughtful gift in his life. He pinches at his nose and tries to shut his emotions down a bit, and Eddie must catch on because he loudly announces, "My turn!"

Steve takes a deep breath, forgetting entirely about the gift he got Eddie. He watches as Eddie tears the wrapping paper off the small box then dramatically and very slowly opens it up with a big smile, knowing he has the kids' impatient attention practically in the palm of his hand. But when he finally sees the gift, his smile and whole act drop as a look of realization crosses over his face.

Steve's heart pounds in his chest.

Eddie slowly removes the little glass bottle filled with brown liquid and silently stares at it.

"What is that? Some type of fancy bourbon?" Max asks with a scoff.

Steve watches Eddie's eyes get slightly glassy, and he's quick to announce, "Something like that. But alright, we have to move on before your families start coming to pick you up. Was a snowball fight next on your cheesy list or something?"

Dustin is quick to defend the list the group came up with, but Steve is quicker in pushing them all toward the front door. "I'll be there in a bit. Eddie and I have to clean up."

The kids all rush to put on their coats and shoes, not wanting to be a part of any type of cleanup. Once they run outside, Steve closes the door and rushes back to the living room where Eddie's still staring at the bottle, a single tear going down his face. "You... you remembered... and you... you got... how?"

"Of course, I remembered," Steve says, thinking of what Eddie told him months ago.

-:-:-:-:-:-

Steve sighs and stuffs more things into a box from Eddie's closet. Dr. Owen's people had finally given the trailer the all-clear, so they were finally able to get the remainder of Eddie's and Wayne's things out of there. Of course, the kids had spent about an hour helping with the living room before taking a very very long break at Max's place. Steve assumes it will be lasting until the rest of the trailer is cleared out.

"They're great help, aren't they?" Eddie jokes as he brings another box into the room.

"Absolutely. Always willing to lend a hand. That is until they decide that the adults can just slave away for them."

"Someone needs to give them a lecture," Eddie sighs, pulling out a pile of clothes from his closet.

Steve scoots the box over and asks, "And why does that person always seem to be me? Especially when they don't listen to me."

"You're just so motherly," Eddie says with a big smile, dimples on full display.

Steve can't help but smile at the sight. And luckily he's staring his way when Eddie picks up another stack of clothes and suddenly hurdles something Steve's way. And even luckier, Steve's reflexes are quick, so he's able to easily catch the smaller glass bottle.

Eddie's eyes widen and he quickly grabs at the bottle, wrapping his hands around Steve's in the process. "Jesus H. Christ." Eddie's grip tightens as he stares at the bottle and breathes a sigh of relief, dropping his head to Steve's shoulder. "Have I ever told you that I'm so glad you're a jock?"

Steve snorts. "No, but whatever in this bottle must be important enough for you to admit it. So, tell me, what's in it? Alcohol? Some type of weird liquid drug?"

Eddie pulls back and looks away, still cradling the bottle and Steve's hands. "It's nothing. Just, hold it gently while I find another shirt to wrap it in."

Steve gently grasps the bottle and brings it closer, inspecting what it could be when he's hit with a bit of deja vu. He tests his suspicions and carefully removes the cap. "Eddie, why do you have an almost empty bottle of perfume in your closet?"

Eddie turns to him and asks, "Please, don't tell me you sprayed it."

"I didn't. The cap just gave it away."

Eddie quickly takes the bottle from his hand and puts the cap back on. "It's nothing. Like I said." He rolls it carefully in a t-shirt and places it in the box.

Steve slowly approaches and looks down at the box, frowning when he sees it start to blend in with the other pile of clothes in there. "I'll be right back," Steve announces before running out to his car. He opens the trunk and sighs, grabbing a shoe box and carefully placing his emergency date shoes in the corner of the trunk before taking the box inside.

When he gets back to the room, he reaches into the bigger box, fishes the shirt-wrapped perfume out, and places it gently into the shoe box before setting it aside. Steve glances up and notices Eddie staring at him. "Is that the emergency date shoe box?"

Steve is going to give the kids or Robin a lecture later about giving away people's personal information. "Yes," he admits.

"So, where are the shoes?"

"In my trunk," Steve says, moving onto Eddie closet to grab the last of the clothes.

Eddie pauses before asking, "You put your emergency date shoes the kids told me to never touch in your trunk to give me a box for my perfume?"

Steve shrugs. "Yeah." He stuffs everything down and closes the box, pushing it toward the door. But he's stopped by Eddie's hand on his arm.

"Why?" Eddie asks.

Steve straightens up and puts his hands on his hips. "It's clearly important to you, and I wasn't going to let you forget about it and accidentally throw it again when I'm not there to catch it."

Eddie holds his gaze for a few moments and Steve almost breaks the eye contact, not used to having Eddie's attention directly solely at him. But he feels like that will change in the future.

Eddie shifts and places a hand on Steve's back, leading him to where he placed the box. He picks it up and opens it, slowly unraveling the perfume and staring at it as if debating if he wants to share the story with Steve.

Steve just waits, not wanting to pressure him. Instead, he lets the moment play out.

Eddie breathes out, "It was my mom's."

It hits Steve all at once the implication of the phrase.

"She would wear it all the time. I remember she would put it on once in the morning, once in the afternoon, and once before going to bed. I told her it was silly to do that before bed, but she told me it was only silly if I let it be." Eddie smiles at the memory before growing distant in his expression. "When she got sick, she started forgetting the time more and more. So, I would remind her. And toward the end, I started putting it on her when she felt too weak to spray it."

Steve shifts and lightly rests his hand on Eddie's back as he continues, "I told my dad that she should be buried with it. That she would want to have it with her and wear it all the time." Eddie's voice cracks a bit and he clears his throat. "He told me that was silly."

Steve shifts closer to Eddie so their sides are pressing together, trying to give him physical support because he's unsure of what to say.

Eddie shakes his head and smiles sadly. "I kept it since then. And I used to spray it all the time, and god, the guys at school would make fun of me for smelling like girl's perfume, but I didn't care. But maybe I should've listened to them because now I only have this much left." He holds up the bottle to emphasize his point, the perfume so low that it seems to barely cover the bottom of the glass.

"One time, I brought it to a perfume store to ask what brand it was. I thought maybe I could save up and buy another one." Eddie shakes his head again. "But the lady accused me of stealing it. She said there was no way I would've been able to afford it in the first place. That there was no reason for me to even have it unless I was looking for a cheap buck to make."

Steve's grip on Eddie's back presses a little firmer as he feels anger and disgust toward the woman overflood his system. "That's fucked up."

"A bit, yeah," Eddie agrees. He glances at Steve, and Steve realizes how close they are, but he doesn't try to move away. "Do you want to smell it?"

Steve's brows furrow. "Eddie, there's barely any left in there, don't waste it on me."

Eddie smiles somewhat bashfully. "No, it's alright. I haven't used it in a long time, and after everything we went through, I need the reminder."

"If you're sure, then yes. I would love that."

Eddie holds out his wrist and lightly sprays the perfume. He uses his other wrist to rub it in before he holds it up to Steve's nose. Steve takes a deep breath and is suddenly taken back to a vague memory from a Christmas years and years ago when Steve was too young to succumb to the disappointment from his parents who were still around. But it's a happy memory nonetheless.

"What do you think?" Eddie asks.

Steve smiles softly. "I think your mom had great taste. And it smells really beautiful. I wish I could've met her."

"Me too," Eddie replies softly, staring at the bottle.

-:-:-:-:-:-

"My mom had the same one. Years ago it was gifted to her. I ended up finding the bottle in one of the drawers in her bathroom. It was still in the box, so it wasn't too difficult to find at the store," Steve admits. He holds out his hand and says, "Here. I have to show you something."

Eddie carefully places the perfume back in the box and takes Steve's hand, following him up the stairs and into his room. Steve regrettably lets go of Eddie's hand to pull out a box from under his own bed. He holds it up to Eddie who gasps, "Steve, this must have cost you a fortune."

Steve glances down at the five boxes of perfume and shrugs. "There was a Christmas sale. Plus, I was able to use my Harrington charm a bit."

Eddie grabs the box and carefully sets it on Steve's bed before quickly wrapping his arms around Steve and pulling him in close. "Thank you. God, this is the best gift I've ever gotten."

Steve squeezes him tight. "Same with yours."

They remain in each other's arms for a few moments, not rushing the embrace or questioning how long they're allowed to linger. Only, when Steve starts pulling away, he starts questioning his next move. Because more than anything he wants to kiss Eddie.

The realization hits him hard. He knows exactly now what Robin's glances mean and what she's been expecting him to say. Of course, deep down he knew, but he just hadn't had to face it head-on yet. But here he is and... "Eddie," Steve says softly, lingering in his space.

"Steve," Eddie replies quietly, eyes flickering down to Steve's lips, already knowing what he means.

Steve takes a deep breath, feeling his heart pound in his chest as he asks, "Can I?"

"Hell yes," Eddie replies.

They both move together at the same time, meeting each other in a gentle kiss which they linger in. Steve moves away to breathe and shifts to cup Eddie's face with his hands and bring him in again. He kisses him with all he has, filled with the awe of the thoughtful gift he received, joy of the gift well received, and the overwhelming feeling that this is right.

Steve breaks the kiss with a smile and whispers, "Merry Christmas, Eddie."

"Merry Christmas, Steve," Eddie says breathlessly before kissing him again.

And it really is a merry Christmas.

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie ficlet #steddie fanfic #steddie fic #merry christmas #steddie christmas

[buckys-wintersoldier]

When we are older

Pairing: BestFriend!Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x BestFriend!Girlfriend Reader

Summary: You and Bucky are best friends since childhood and you have the plan to marry when you’re older. But when you move away he turns into an idiot.

Warnings: hurt/comfort, angst, Bucky being an idiot for a while, but much of fluff

Wordcount: 6.7k (I know it’s so long but please, it’s worth it [at least I hope but it is I guess])

A/N: After you all wanted to read this one I wrote it and you know it with the title “Only love can hurt like this” but I had planned to name this one “When we are older”. The song “Older” by Ben Platt inspired me a bit, so I hope you enjoy that. Divider made by @firefly-graphics.

A/N²: Thank you to @cosmicbucky for encouraging me with that idea and helping me with some ideas for this one, that really means a lot.

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist

Taglist: @nicoline1998enilocin @sergeantbarnessdoll @bucky-barnes-lover @kandis-mom @felicitylemon @ergle-barnes @sweater-bee @identity2212 @cjand10 @bookishtheaterlover7 @km-ffluv @harleycao (want to be tagged? Here)

10. March 1925

"Happy Birthday, Buck!", you scream and throw your hands around his neck. He immediately wraps his arms around you and presses your little body against his. "Now you're 8 years old,", you say with a proud smile on your lips, and you kiss his cheek gently.

"Come, I will show you my presents," he whispers, and he takes your hand into his little one. He runs, pulling you along with him, with a huge smile on his lips. He is so happy to have you with him. His little doll, his best friend and the one he loves the most.

When you both arrive at the table, you are fascinated by all the presents. "My new stuffed cat. I will call her Alpine. Mommy said, I will get a cat when I get older." He puts his stuffed animal into your arms. It's a little white cat with ocean blue eyes. They immediately remind you of Bucky's eyes. "It looks so sweet, and her eyes are as blue as yours," you say, patting the little head of the stuffed animal.

"And here," he says, climbing on the table to find something else to show you. He hands you a picture. It shows the both of you during the trip a few weeks ago. Bucky stands behind you, and his hands are wrapped around your waist, while you both stand in front of a waterfall. His head turns towards you, and you still know the words he whispered into your ear.

"We are going to marry one day, aren't we? I love you so much, my doll. You're the most wonderful girl in the world, and I will love you forever."

You both giggle when you look at the picture. His one hand wraps around your waist while you lay your head on his shoulder. "You still remember what your answer was?", he smiles, and you nod. How couldn't you?

"You're so sweet, Buck. I will love you forever, too. Can we marry at the beach? Or in the tree house?", you asked, and his answer was "Everything for my doll."

He put the picture back on the table and wanted to do the same with the stuffed animal when he saw you wrapping his arms around him and cuddling. "If you cuddle Alpine more than me, I'm mad,", he says, giggling, before you both walk back to the other guests. All of them are adults, but you both don't mind; you have each other, and that is everything that counts for you.

Bucky and you lay in the tree house, watching the stars and the moon, while most of the guests are home again. His hand is around you, and he presses you tightly against his body. "I wish we were already older; then we could marry,", he whispers, kissing your forehead.

You absolutely love his forehead kisses, and you're the only one doing it. Even when someone told him to kiss another girl, he hit the guy in the face. "You remember the theater when you almost wanted to hit the man's face?", you ask, and Bucky nods, breathing loudly against your skin and making you giggle.

The week before the holidays is always filled with much fun for the students. And this time it is a theater performance. You wait for Bucky before you walk into the room with the other kids and adults.

"Hey, doll,", he says, wrapping his arms around you. He kisses your forehead gently. You walk together into the room and take a seat next to each other. When the lesson starts, you both pay attention to the people explaining what you all have to do. But you and Bucky can't stop looking at each other every now and then. He smiles widely when you meet his gaze, and his eyes brighten whenever he looks at you.

After finding out more about the characters, the plot, and the role for everyone, you start to exercise the performance. You're on the stage right now. You play the fairy, which you really want to play, and walk in the background before you have to go to the prince to tell him what he has to do. Bucky stands in front of the stage, looking as often as he can towards you while he plays his role as the prince.

When you walk towards him, he smiles widely, while the princess sits in front of him, looking into a book. A dwarf has enchanted her, and the prince wants to help her before they are going to marry each other.

You reach them and walk a circle around them. "You don't need to fight against the dwarf; you only need to kiss her. The kiss of true love, my prince.", You say your lines and walk around them both before you go off the stage. He follows you before he turns his head to the princess.

Bucky leans down, but he is a few inches away from the princess. "James, you need to kiss her. Just her cheek or her forehead,", the man says. Bucky turns around and looks at him with half-closed eyes, and his eyes darken. He is angry, and you know that because when someone makes jokes about you, he looks like that too. "I don't want to kiss her,", he says, folding his arms in front of his chest. "We talked about that scene. It's just her cheek or forehead,", the man tries again, but Bucky shakes his head.

He walks off of the stage and towards the man. When he stands in front of him, he doesn't even reach the chest of the theater teacher. With his little fingers, he points up to him and speaks between clenched teeth. "I. Don't. Want. To. Kiss. Her.", he points out every word.

You smile at the scene in front of you. Little Bucky is a big man, but Buck acts like he is bigger and could throw the man down when he wants to do it. "But a prince has to kiss the princess,", the theater teacher says, pointing towards the princess before he looks back at Bucky.

Bucky shrugs and walks towards you. The man looks at the two of you in confusion when Bucky presses his lips on your forehead, making you blush. "I've kissed my princess. And she is the only one I will kiss. I'm not going to kiss a 'would like to be' princess. Only my princess, and she is playing the most wonderful fairy because she is the most wonderful and perfect girl on earth. Understood?", he says, looking with an angry gaze back at the teacher.

He smiles and shakes his head lightly. "Oke", he says, clapping into his hands. "Then you don't have to kiss her. Put your head on her head,", the teacher adds, and Bucky nods proudly of himself before he kisses your forehead again and walks back on the stage to practice the theater performance.

You both lay in the tree house, looking at each other and talking about everything and nothing. Both of you love to just be there; it's like your little home. And you're almost planning your wedding and your future life together.

"No matter what happens later, the one person I take care of, protect, and need in my life is you, my doll,", he says, and you blush, giggling about his words, but you want it too; you want him.

28. June 1933

Bucky stands in front of you. His arms are around your waist, and he presses you against his chest. He is still bigger than you, and over the years, he has gained a lot of muscle. The cute little boy turned into a young, wonderful man, and almost every girl loves him, even some boys.

"You know I still love only you,", he whispers, and his voice breaks a bit. "We are gonna marry one day. It's not that long until we can marry,", he jokes, but you can feel the tears running down his cheeks. You smile sadly when you pull away. Just a bit to look into his eyes.

His eyes are red, but he smiles slightly. He tries to give you some strength. "I love you too, Buck,", you whisper, and you know he will wait for you. Shit job from your parents, so you have to move to the other side of the country. But he is yours, and you're his; you both have said that. His lips meet yours, and you can taste your salty tears while you lay your arms around his neck, pressing him more towards you.

When you have to go into the car, he waves and runs next to it before your parents drive too fast for him. You lean your head back and close your eyes. The tears stream down your cheeks quietly. You know he will wait for you; you know you're the only girl in his life; and you know he wouldn't do the things you both did. But no matter how much you know that, you don't want to move away, even when you know you can come back in a few months, maybe some years.

You pull out the little letter he gave you before you take your seat in the car.

For my doll.

When you unfold the letter, you can see the whole paper covered with blue ink and his handprint, which you love. But you also see some points with smeared ink, and you know he cried when he wrote the letter for you.

Hey, doll. 

I hope you will have a good start at the new school there. If not, write to me, and I will come to you as far as I can. Believe me, I wanted to tell you that I will never find the right words. I had a couple of weeks to think about the perfect words.

You smile at his words, knowing he is right. And so both of you could just cuddle and kiss each other. Lying in the tree house again and feeling the things you already felt eight years ago.

Can you imagine that I got Alpine eight years ago? And now we have the real Alpine for a year. I told you about a surprise; I will tell you what it is. When you open your suitcase, you will find something you really love. And I can't get the picture of you with it in your hand out of my head. So I decided you both are perfect for each other until I can hold you in my arms again when I visit you. When you open your suitcase, you will find Alpine there. The stuffed animal, of course, but you have loved her since my eight birthday, so she is yours, like I'm.

You feel the smile on your lips with every word you read, but also the tears. Your mom takes you out of your thoughts and off of the letter for a moment. "We planned a trip, and we could ask Bucky if he wanted to come with us. Actually, we already asked him and his parents, and they said yes,", he says, stroking your knees with his hand. You smile even wider and look at her. "That sounds perfect,", you say before you turn your attention back to the paper.

I love you so much, and I can't wait to hold you in my arms again. A second surprise for you is the chocolate you like the most. I put it in your favorite cup. This is the chocolate we had our first kiss with. Or it was the reason for our first kiss.

You chuckle lightly when you think about the kiss. The first real kiss you both shared was the first time your lips met his, and the feeling of butterflies in your stomach grew.

It was when the two of you were in the tree house, like always. You watched your favorite movie while eating your favorite snacks. When he was looking at you, Bucky pointed to your face. "Was it there?", you asked, giggling, and he sat up. You rolled yourself to the side and looked up at him. "There is someone chocolate,", he whispered, kissing the corner of your mouth. Then he placed his lips on yours. "I think I got you mixed up with the chocolate,", he whispered against your lips, making you laugh softly.

He told you a few minutes later that there was no chocolate, but he wanted to kiss you. He laid on his back again and was looking at you while he told you. You leaned your body over him and kissed him again, while his hands moved to your hips and he pulled you onto his lap.

I love you, my doll; I always have and I always will. I can't imagine a life without you because you are my life. I hope we can see each other in the next holidays; otherwise, I will go crazy.

And I know you will be the most wonderful girl at your new school, and they will love you. I hope it is for them; otherwise, they miss the best person there is on this planet. I believe in you, and I'm so proud of you, doll.

I love you 'til the end of the endless line.

Your absolutely best friend, boyfriend, and one-day husband, Buck.

You have never talked about boyfriend or girlfriend. It was something usual for you two. You love each other, and there is no one else in your lives. So no one of you needed to say that directly or ask for it; you both are perfect for each other, and you know it since you're little kids.

5. September 1933

It's your first day at your new school. During the time you meet a boy, he lives just a few houses away from you, and you both become good friends. He is as old as you, a blonde-haired, muscular boy named Steve Rogers.

The two of you had a lot of time during the holidays, so you spent this time together. He helped you to avoid the pain in your chest, and he helped you to live at least a bit without Bucky by your side whenever it's possible. And Steve made you laugh as often as it was possible.

"Steve, where are we?", You laugh and look around. You're in the middle of a big room, but no one except the two of you is there. "In the classroom. Oke, maybe not, but I thought it's here,", he says and looks around.

You laugh even harder when he starts to scream like a little girl. "What the fuck?", he shouts, and when you look at him, he stands behind a table. "A spider,", he says, scratching the back of his head and blushing. "But it looks like a very big dinosaur or something,", he mumbles, trying to climb over the table again.

You look at him. "A dinosaur, really, Steve? You remind me of Bu-", you interrupt yourself, and your eyes widen. "Sorry, I'- not wanted,", you stutter quietly, but he shakes his head. "It's oke; don't worry. I know you miss him,", he says, and you nod your head, feeling the tears in your eyes, and wipe them away with one hand.

You feel his arms around you, and he holds you until you calm down a bit. "Can we go to our class now? I think this isn't the right room,", he whispers, and you chuckle lightly. Then he takes your hand and pulls you along with him out of the room and into the next room.

"Mrs. Y/L/N and Mr. Rogers,", the teacher says, pointing to the seats in front of him. You already don't like the place, but when you complain, the teacher will hate you. So you just walk to the table and take a seat, looking up at your teacher. He nods and continues with his lesson.

While you work on the tasks, your teacher walks around, and he often stands next to you. Steve sits next to you, and whenever the teacher isn't next to you, he makes jokes, and you almost burst out laughing whenever he says something.

"Steve, this is way too funny,", you say and giggle lightly. "Is it?", The voice of your teacher appears behind you, and you feel the cold shiver along your spine. "Sorry,", you mumble, but it doesn't help much to get less homework.

The lesson feels like two hours when you finally hear the bell and you almost run out of the room. You have a short break right now, and you want to use it to write a letter for Bucky. You told him you would send some his way, like you two did during the holidays.

When you reach a bench, you sit down and search for paper and a pen. You don’t need to think too long about things you write; you always have something to tell him, even if it’s only ‘I miss you’ or ‘I love you’.

Hey Buck.

Like I said last week, school started today, and it’s not too bad. I and Steve were late because we were in the wrong room, but it was oke. He made a lot of jokes in the lesson, and the teacher saw it.

But no matter how funny he is, he isn't like you. I really miss you, and I hope we can meet during the holidays. And in a few years, we can finally marry. I wish we were already a bit older.

How are you, and how is the school? Still as boring as always?

I love you, Buck.

Y/N.

You write, and when you finish it, you smile and put it all back in your back. With a look at the clock, you see the next lesson starts in a few minutes, so you walk back to go to your math class.

"Y/N!" Steve shouts and smiles at you when you walk closer. “Let’s go to math class, oke? And what do you think about a movie night?” he asks, and you nod immediately. “Sounds perfect,” you say, and the two of you make your way to the next classroom.

10. July 1935

You haven’t seen Bucky for eight months now, and he doesn’t write you letters anymore. You miss him so much, and it gets worse every day. Not even Steve can help you, so he made the best plan for the holidays, and when he stands in front of your door and shows you tickets, you smile lightly.

“We are going to meet him,” he says, and you look confused. “In the cinema?” you ask, and Steve chuckles. Then he shakes his head and hands you the tickets. You look at them, and when you realize this, your mood immediately changes to happiness.

Those are two tickets for the train, and when you read the place you are going, you can’t stop smiling. “We are going to meet Buck?” you ask to make sure you haven’t read something wrong. Steve nods at you, and then he points to the date. 10. July; 10.25 a.m.

"Steve, that’s in one hour,” you say, and you turn around to look for everything you need. He looks at you with amusement but also with adoration in his eyes. He takes a seat on your bed while you put everything in your bag.

When you suddenly turn around, you face Steve. “You’re the best,” you whisper, and you wrap your arms around his neck. “I know,” he chuckles, and he kisses your cheek gently. “But now let’s go,” he says, standing up to walk out of your room. You follow him.

The drive to Bucky takes a while, but with Steve, it isn’t boring. The two of you play some games and talk about everything and nothing. Even when you have already told him a lot about you and Bucky, you can always find other things for him to tell Steve. And he listens even when you talk for hours about it, and sometimes he asks you things so he can listen to more of your stories.

“He doesn’t have holidays yet, so we can go to school and meet him there,” you say while you wait to finally arrive at your home. Even when you live in another place now, your old home is still your home because of Bucky.

The next station is the one the two of you need to get out of the train. So you put your things into your bag and put on your jacket before you walk to the door with Steve. A big smile forms on your lips when the train slowly stops, and you would jump up and down when you could, but there are a lot of people, and you don’t want to embarrass yourself or Steve.

“Do you smell that wonderful air?” You ask when the door opens, and you take a deep breath. Steve chuckles, but nods then. “It’s nice here. So where is the school?” He asks immediately and looks at you.

He loves to see that huge smile, your lips, and the way your eyes brighten when you think about Bucky. Steve knows that Bucky means a lot to you, so he feels your joy inside of him as well. And he knows you to see that you’re so excited about the trip like he is. Steve can finally meet Bucky, the boy you always talk about and who seems like a really nice guy and lovely boyfriend.

You make your way through the streets to the school. With every step, you feel the excitement inside of you growing, and when you see the big building, you want to run there.

“There we are, almost, this building there,” you say, and you smile wide when you point to the school. The two of you walk next to each other along the street. With every step, you see more of the building and the schoolyard.

“When you walk around the corner and then along the street, you reach my old house,” you say, pointing to a corner. Steve follows your finger and looks interested. “It looks beautiful here, even better than in your stories,” he laughs, and you do as well. “Thank you for coming here with me,” you mumble before the two of you walk over the schoolyard.

“No problem. I prefer to see that beautiful smile of yours,” he chuckles, and you look up at him before you take his hand and pull him with you until you reach the entrance of the school.

There are already a few students, and when you look around, you see your favorite brown-haired boy. “Steve, Steve, there he is,” you mumble excitedly and walk closer to Bucky, who stands next to a tree and a little bench. When you walk closer, you see a girl standing in front of him, and she laughs about something.

“Buck,” you say, and he immediately turns around. He nods towards you and looks up and down at you before he looks at Steve. Bucky looks like a young man now; he has muscles, a slight beard, and his short brown hair is messy, but his steel blue eyes are still the same, as are his looks as well.

He turns his head back to the girl, excuses himself, and then comes closer to you and Steve. “What are you doing here?” He asks and nods to Steve. “I wanted to see you. I wrote a few letters, and now Steve said, we come here." You mumble and look up at Bucky.

The brown-haired boy nods and opens his mouth, but before he can say anything, another girl comes closer. “James, it was wonderful yesterday. Do you think we can do it again?” She asks, and you feel a cold shiver along your spine.

“But not today,” he says, and the girl smirks at him before she walks back to her friends. “Sorry,” he mumbles and looks back at you. You feel like you don’t know Bucky anymore. He looks so different, and his gaze and voice are so cold that you shiver whenever you look at him.

“How are you?” You ask, not knowing what else you could ask. "Good, and you? It looks like you found someone,” he says, looking at Steve, who stands next to you. “He is my best friend, but we are not together,” you say, and there is just a nod from Bucky.

“James, babe,” the girl he excused himself calls him. He looks annoyed and turns around. “Even when I fuck you, I told you not to call me ‘babe’ and I’m busy right now,” he groans, and you gasp quietly. The girl mumbles something, but Bucky just shakes his head and looks at you again.

“Sorry,” he says, and you feel the tears in your eyes. "Do you sleep with her?” You ask, and he chuckles darkly before he shakes his head. “I don’t sleep with her; I fuck them. Those girls beg for me; they are on their knees to spend a night with me. And I can do whatever I want with them; they are like fucktoys,” he explains, and you feel a tear rolling down your cheek. “What happened?” You whisper, and he looks confused before he shrugs.

“Buc-“ he interrupts you. “James,” he corrects, and you feel like you're in front of another person right now. The sweet boy who wanted to make you smile, loved you when you laughed, and wanted to marry you isn’t in front of you right now, and you don’t know why he is the way he is right now.

“I have my next class now, and after that, I go to a party with some girls to fuck them, so I need to go to my class now. It was nice to see you. If you want to get fucked too, you can just ask, but I’m sure he is also really good," he says, looking at you before he looks at Steve. “Have you fucked her, or are you the one making love?” He laughs sarcastically and waits for Steve's answer. “I don’t fuck her, and I haven’t slept with her. She loves you so much that she says no to everyone who just wants to dance with her, except me,” Steve says, placing an arm around your shoulder while you feel even more tears streaming down your cheeks.

When Steve says that you love Bucky, there is a moment where he looks like a lost puppy, a broken boy, but it immediately changes into a cold gaze, so you're not really sure if you saw it right. With a nod, he walks to the entrance of the school.

“Now we are older, and I wish we were younger,” you mumble and hide your face in Steve’s hoodie. He holds you tight against him and rubs your back with his hand, trying to calm you down while he mumbles sweet words into your ear.

“It’s oke. I have you, and he is hurt; he can’t see that he is doing this to you too,” he whispers, and you look up at Steve. Your eyes are red, and your cheeks are wet while you look up at him. “What do you mean? He fucks with all of those girls here,” you mumble, and you feel the tears burning in your eyes again. Steve uses his thumb to wipe them away and looks at you with a small smile.

Before he answers, he lifts you up, you let him carry you to the bench, and he sits down with you on his lap. “Have you seen that gaze when I told him you love him?” Steve asks, and you nod. “He misses you, and he is hurt. Maybe you should talk to him,” Steve explains, and you shake your head. “Noo,” you whisper and lean your body against Steve’s, your head resting on his shoulder.

“It wasn’t an offer; you will talk to him or I will,” he demands. “I don’t want to”, you mumble against his neck, and you close your eyes to get some sleep. Steve rubs your back slowly and helps you to sleep while he looks to the door, waiting until Bucky can go home.

It’s not too long until the door opens and the first people run out of the building. When Steve finds the brown-haired boy, he looks at him until he recognizes him and walks towards the two of you. You're half asleep when Bucky stands in front of you and looks at Steve. “What are you still doing here?” He asks and then looks at you with a loving gaze for a moment.

“I know you have a party you want to go to and fuck all those girls, but I want you to know that there is one girl who really loves you and she waits for you. When she saw you with those girls today, something broke inside of her, and I know you’re hurt. I don’t know why, but I don’t want you to hurt her. There was no one other than you she was talking about, and whenever someone asked her to go out, she said no,” Steve says, looking at Bucky with a serious look. “When you’re hurt, then tell her. But don’t act like you don’t love her. I can see that you have that look when you look at her; it’s only then. So warm and loving,” the blond-haired boy says, and Bucky swallows hard.

"Maybe, but I have something to do today,” Bucky says, wanting to turn around, but Steve stops him. “When you go to the party without talking to her, I will tell her that there is nothing about you that she always told me about. And that it’s not worth it to wait for someone like you; there are a lot of boys who would treat her better than you do right now,” your best friend says and strokes your back. You mumble something in your sleep while Bucky looks at you. Then he nods. "Let's go to my house,” he says, and Steve stands up with you. Bucky swallows hard when he realizes Steve’s words, and when he sees you, his gaze softens.

“Want to carry her? Otherwise, I would do it,” Bucky offers. “It’s oke, but her bag,” Steve answers and points with his head to your bag. Bucky smiles lightly when he sees the bag. You have had that one since the two of you were little kids. Then he throws it over his shoulder and walks next to Steve.

They don’t talk, but Bucky looks almost every second at you, making sure Steve holds you and because he just wants to see you. “Stevie?” You mumble, and Bucky's heart races when he hears your sleepy voice. He adores the one, at least as much as your voice in general. He missed hearing you talk, but he wouldn’t admit it; otherwise, he would feel the same as he did when you moved away.

“I have you, princess,” he mumbles, but Bucky hears it. And he wants to hit Steve right in the face when he calls you ‘princess’ but he knows he has no right to do it. “Are we at home?” You ask, but Steve shakes his head. “No, James is here, and we go to his house now,” he tells you, and you nod while you feel the tears again.

You let your best friend carry you to your second home, or it was your second home when you and Bucky were kids, but now you’re not sure about it anymore. “My mom is home,” Bucky says, and you feel a warmth running through his body when you hear his suddenly soft voice.

When he opens the door, the three of you walk inside, and Steve lets you down. “You can go into the living room; I just need to call someone that I have no time for parties right now,” he explains, and you nod while you walk into the living room. Steve follows you. You still know everything in that house, and it feels like nothing has changed except for a scratching tree in the corner of the room and a white fur ball lying on the couch.

“Alpine,” you say softly, and the little white cat lifts her head to look at you. She has steel blue eyes, the same as Bucky's, and she looks exactly like the cat Bucky got on his birthday when he turned eight.

With a few steps, you reach the couch and hold your hand in front of the cat. Alpine sniffs at your hand before she leans against it and lets you scratch her ear. "You are such a sweet little fur ball,” you coo. You turn your head to Steve and point with your head next to you on the couch.

“You can sit here. What did you say that he is so nice now?” You ask, and Steve chuckles lightly. "I told him the truth about your feelings, but I also told him that there are a lot of boys who would treat you like the princess you are,” he explains, and you smile at him.

When you hear footsteps behind you, you turn around and see the face of Bucky’s mother looking at you. “Y/n, I haven’t seen you in a while. You’re such a big and beautiful young lady now,” she says with a huge smile on her lips, and you nod before you stand up and almost run into her arms for a much-needed hug. “I missed you so much,” you whisper, and she agrees before she lets go and looks at you again. “I was sure you would be a gorgeous young lady, and you are,” she whispers and then looks at Steve.

“Hello, I’m Steve,” he greets the woman, and she nods before she walks closer to him and hugs him as well. “James is in his room?” She asks. “He wanted to call someone because of a party." You shrug and sit down next to Steve. Bucky’s mother takes a seat on the armchair across from you.

“I’m so glad you’re here, that the two of you are here. When you moved away, Bucky wasn’t the same anymore. In the first time, he tried to be as much as he was, but with every day, he turned more into an idiot. I haven’t seen him crying like that when you moved away, and I guess he changed into the one he is to avoid his feelings,” his mom says and sighs quietly. “I try to talk to him; I miss my little Buck, the one who wanted to marry me when we were young, and we didn't want to wait any longer there,” you chuckle. Steve listens to you and smiles lightly when he sees your chuckle.

Just a few moments later, the brown-haired boy walks downstairs again and comes into the living room. He doesn’t say anything when he takes a seat next to you, so you sit between your two favorite boys. He clears his throat, but then he is quiet again.

“Steve, I’m sure you heard a lot of stories about them; do you want to see the pictures of them? There are some really funny ones; I’m sure you will like them,” Bucky’s mother says and stands up. Steve nods with a wide and mischievous smile. “Love ya, princess,” he whispers into your ear. “Love ya too,” you say before he follows the woman out of the room.

Then you’re alone with Bucky, his jaw clenching, and he rubs his sweating hands in his pants. You look at him and see how nervous he is; he isn’t looking at you. “Buck, listen, oke,” you start, but before you can continue, you see tears streaming down his cheeks, and you interrupt yourself.

Suddenly, he stands up before kneeling in front of you, his hands on your thighs as well as his head. You place one of your hands on top of his head and run your fingers through his soft, brown hair. “I’m sorry, I love you,” he whispers against the fabric of your pants. You scratch his head softly and wait until he looks up at you.

After a moment, he lifts his head, and your eyes meet. His tears are wet, and his eyes are red when you wipe his tears away. He breathes deeply and then opens his mouth to say something, but before he can, you can see the tears streaming down his cheeks again. “It’s ok,” you mumble, and you glide your fingers through his hair.

“I’m sorry; I didn’t want to hurt you, never. I love you so much, but when you moved away-“ he starts, sobbing before he continues to speak. “Everything was so empty, and no matter where I was, we were there together. I missed you so much that I wasn't able to leave my room for weeks. And even so, there is everything that reminds me of you. I’m sorry for being an idiot; I wanted to think about aging nothing for a few minutes, but I haven’t thought about you then,” he whispers between even more sobs. He let his head fall down on your thighs again. “You really were an idiot,” you chuckle, and you capture Bucky’s face with your hands so he needs to look at you.

“But you’re my idiot,” you mumble before you lean forward and kiss him softly. You're not sure if it’s what he wants, but as soon as your lips meet, he wraps his arms around your waist and presses you closer. You feel the love and happiness, as well as the butterflies in your stomach, when his lips meet yours and his adorable blue eyes look lovely into yours. “Do you still want to marry me? We can do it; now we are older and can marry,” he whispers against your lips, and you nod. “I definitely want to, Buck,” you mumble. He smiles at you when you continue talking. “But no other girls anymore, and don’t be jealous about Stevie; he is nice,” you say, laughing, and Bucky nods with a smile before he kisses your forehead.

“No other girls and not jealous of Steve,” he chuckles, and it’s like his mother and your best friend heard you because they walk back into the room and see the two of you smiling at each other.

“Do you want some cake as well?” The woman asks, and you immediately look up at her with a wide smile. “What kind of cake?” You ask, and Bucky laughs when he sees your eyes brighten. “Your favorite,” Bucky whispers into your ear, and you push him back to jump to the kitchen.

"Cake, I’m coming,” you say, and the three others look at you while they burst out laughing before they follow you. When you reach the kitchen, you see the big cake on the table, but before you are there to steal it, you feel two strong arms around your waist and pressing against a body. “Do you like Alpine? She looks like my stuffed animal; do you still know it?” He asks, and you nod while you try to reach the table with the cake.

“Do you want me to bring you the cake?” Steve asks with a laugh, and you look at him with your best puppy eyes. "Yes, please,” you say, and he takes the cake but walks away from you, and you hear the two boys laughing. “You’re mean,” you mumble. Bucky kisses your neck, and you feel goosebumps all over your body.

“You’re the most wonderful girl, and I love you, my doll,” Bucky whispers into your ear, and you smile widely. “I love you too, Buck, but now give me some cake,” you say, smiling, and he shakes his head, looking at you with adoration and love in his eyes while Steve comes back with cake and places it back on the table.

#mcu #bucky barnes #marvel #marvel mcu #james buchanan barnes #james buchanan bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #sebastian stan bucky barnes #bucky barnes x yn #bucky barnes x teen!reader #james bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #james barnes x y/n #james barnes x you #james barnes x reader #bucky x fem reader #bucky x reader fanfiction #bucky x female reader #fluffcember #fluffcember 2023

[calliopesdiary]

“Super Boy and the Invisible Girl”

based on; superboy and the invisible girl from next to normal!

summary; fem!potter!reader knows while her parents love her, that james will always be their favorite. leaving her wishing she were invisible… until remus lupin comes along.

warnings; just fluff and angst, reader is a potter, reader x remus lupin, cussing here and there, james being oblivious, sirius black being a prick, reader is a ravenclaw, reader struggles with eating, one use of y/n, (i tried guys 😭)

a/n; came up with this idea on holiday! hope you all enjoy 🥐

not proofread or edited

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superboy and the invisible girl

Home for the holidays with the Potters were no joke, bright christmas trees decorated every corner. light tinsel strung across each fireplace. mistletoe hung on the doorways. christmas lights hung on the exterior of the house. but for you, it never felt like “home for the holidays”, it felt more like; solitude for the holidays.

You knew your parents loved you, make so mistake of that. it was just depressing to be able to tell that your parents did indeed have a favorite child. James, The golden child, he could truly do no wrong in their eyes. He was seeker on the Gryffindor Quidditch Team, than there was you, who could only stand to the sides. Story of your life, really. You often wondered what it’d be like to be able to magically appear and disappear whenever she pleased. which— she could practically do if she didn’t talk at all at family gatherings. it felt like your entire family preferred James, it was all; “how’s James’ studies?” or “We are just so proud of James, i mean— he’s a seeker for Gryffindor! couldn’t be prouder, really”. it didn’t bother you— most gatherings, but Christmas at home was just… different

Maybe it was the fact whenever you asked your parents if you’re friends could come for a change, but they would always apologize and explain that they had already spoken with James about his friends coming over, typical.

Maybe it was that you really couldn’t stand Sirius or Peter. but something about Remus was calming, not sure what, but he was much sweeter and calmer than the other three.

“James!!” Euphemia squealed as she practically jumped into him. “Hi, Mom” James’ dazzling smile was annoying to you, but absolutely adorable to Effie. She hugged his friends closely, like they were her own children. and then, You walked into your own house, and all you got was: “Hi sweetie, missed you” She pecked your forehead and smiled, before walking off too soon to ask about Quidditch or his grades, leaving you to stand in the doorway and peer at your house as you slowly traveled up the stairs and went to hide in your room. It was nicely decorated, besides— it’s not like you had much help. You flopped down on your bed, finally allowing the melancholy tears roll down your cheeks, not soon before wiping them away.

he’s a hero, a lover, a prince. shes not there.

You heard a quiet knock on your door. “Come in.” You called, hearing the door to your bedroom creak open softly. “Hey… I just came to drop this off.” Remus held his hand out with a small box resting on his palm. “Who’s this for?” You snickered, gently taking the box. “Well… you, of course” He admitted shyly, “Oh…” You seemed surprised, to his confusion. “You look surprised?” He chuckled softly at your puzzled expression. “I’m not. It’s just— people don’t really give me gifts. But I appreciate it. a lot” He simply smiled, and nodded a soft goodbye, retiring to his own room to presumably unpack. You on the other hand, carefully tore open the package he had given to you, placing the ribbon down gently on the side table. The tiny box revealed a small necklace with a small crystal on the end and a note reading;

“Ive noticed you tend to be forgotten, but I finally thought of something to possibly make you smile.

Happy Christmas, Dove.

Remus”

You smiled— obviously. Possibly the sweetest note you had ever received, not that you received many, But it was special nonetheless. You assumed that Euphemia was probably making dinner. You detested eating in public, it scared you. people watching you while you ate? watching how much you were eating? living hell.

You knew you couldn’t get yourself out of this one. Besides, if not Remus, someone would’ve called you out for it, whether it was your oblivious brother or Sirius mocking you for it, someone would. You quickly slid on some “acceptable” clothes and quietly walked down the staircase, before running back up to clip on the necklace Remus had given you.

“Hi, Dad” You mustered up some sort of smile, not really meaning it but attempting it for him. “hm? Oh! y/n. lovely to see you, dear.” Fleamont replied, clearly occupied chattering with Sirius about recent Quidditch strategies. You sighed, sliding into your usual seat, which was luckily next to Remus. What was this connection you felt with him? probably just comfort, atleast— you hoped. James would go ballistic if you and Remus liked eachother, even if he barely paid any mind to you, he’d still care. eventually, Effie served dinner. It was an array of different meats and vegetables and such. Yet you didn’t grab much, “Are you gonna get any more?” Asked Remus, having a worried expression on his scarred face. “I’m not really hungry.” You answered, “Oh.” He shrugged, he didn’t think much of it, just girls being girls. You ate your tiny portion and opted to say at the table rather than leave, maybe your parents would ask how your studies were.

Fleamont cleared his throat. “So, Boys. How’s everything been going at school this semester?” You narrowed your eyes, taking a sip of water so you didn’t spat something out you’d regret. “Good, so far atleast. Slytherins usually get in the way of enjoyment.” Sirius stated, while you felt your blood boil since you were good friends with some Slytherins, including his own brother, Regulus Black. “Well that’s typical. What about Quidditch? Wins for Gryffindor?” He placed some more food in his mouth. “Won every games this season, Slytherin plays bloody dirty, and the Ravenclaws are to busy shoving their heads in books to be any good.” James replied, knowing full well you were a Ravenclaw, but he must’ve just forgotten that you were there. “They should read some books about Quidditch.” Sirius snickered. “Detentions this semester?” Effie added. “No.. Course not.” Peter blatantly lied. “But we have played some bloody brilliant pranks on Slytherin this year.” Sirius added. “Thats how it’s done, boys!” Fleamont laughed.

I wish i could fly, I’d fly far away from here.

You’d felt it coming, the word vomit. after hours of silence from you, you finally spoke up.

“What about me?” You asked, The entire table falling silent.

“What about you?” Sirius snickered, as did James.

“I- I just didn’t hear that anyone wished to know about how my school year went.” You were done with silence. “Why would we? you probably just sat in your dorm, reading.” James snarled, going back to his food. “So it doesn’t matter that I made top marks?” You inquired, “That’s great, love. But your brother has won Gryffindor wins recently and—“ You cut her off quickly. “And you haven’t gotten a chance to hear him brag for 3 months? forgive me.” You started defensively. “I’m sorry, but i’m not going to sit here and listen to you ask James and his friends how they are and how their studies are when nobody bothers to ask me the entire night.” You absolutely knew that you felt angry, it was just your first time speaking out on the matter. “Quit lashing out, you’re being disrespectful.” Fleamont stared daggers into you. “You know, atleast James has the guts to not pretend to actually love me.” You took a sip of your water while everyone else gasped and took glances at eachother. “How dare you!” James started. “I just want to know why you guys only care about James? what did I do?” You asked, with small tears filling your eyes.

“Oh, Honey. You’re not pretty enough to be this stupid.” Sirius spat

slience.

superboy and the invisible girl

he’s the one you wish would appear

he’s your hero, forever your son.

than there’s me.

You sat up and bolted off, real tears filling your eyes this time. How fucking could he? Time had felt like it froze for the solid hour you spent outside your house sobbing, wondering if they regretted anything. You wondered yourself if you regretted you had said, but you didn’t feel guilty, you felt betrayed. You tried so hard to not believe him, yet you did. The rose bushes swallowed you whole as you laid in the soft grass, sobbing quietly as you heard several people walk past you, attempting to find you. until Remus hovered over you, “Dove, your hiding spots are getting all too simple.” He smirked, clearly attempting to lighten the mood. You sniffed, rolling onto your side to continue your crying. “Shh… Dovie, I hate seeing you cry…” He crouched down to your level, wrapping his arms around your midriff and pulling you up to him as you cried. “It’s okay, baby… everything’s okay… nobody’s mad… please…” He whispered sweet nothings into your ears as his warmth eased your crying. “It’s like the minute James is in the room, nobody cares about me anymore.” You were shaking softly. “They love you, Dove. I love you.” Remus kissed the top of your forehead. “You don’t mean that.” You stated, seeming quite sure of yourself. “I do, please.” He sounded so reassuring, like you could trust in at all costs. “I- Is James mad at me?” You asked, unsure of yourself. “Not anymore, I’m pretty sure Effie talked to him, but I came to find you.” He shrugged, resting his chin on her shoulder. “I shouldn’t have lashed out.. it’s just— I cant stand to be forgotten time after time again.” You admitted, blushing softly as he gently pressed you against him. “Everyone understands, Dove. I think they’d like to apologize.” He grinned at her, since her tears had stopped. “You hungry?” He asked, pulling out chocolate from his jacket pocket. “I don’t know if I really need that—“ You started to protest. “Nonsense, eat.” He practically force-fed you the chocolate. “Thank you.” You giggled softly. “And i think you might need this, too.” He pecked your lips, leaving you speechless. “I could never forget you.” He stood up and practically ran off. “Remus Lupin!” You yelled, darting after him

Looks like someone finally remembered you.

end ☁️

#marauders era #remus lupin #sirius black #fem!reader #marauders #james potter #peter pettigrew #reader #remus lupin x reader #angst with a happy ending #superboy and the invisible girl #potter!reader

[jjungkookislife]

Quarterly Fic Rec List 2023 #4

Hello! This is the last list of 2023! These are the wonderful fics I ended my year with! I hope you enjoy them! If anyone would like to be removed from this list; please let me know! As always each of these fics has its own content warnings, and most, if not all are 18+ so Minors Do Not Interact!

Seokjin

daydream @joonie-beanie

summary: Your literature professor has a bit of a…gift. A gift that let’s him see other peoples thoughts when he wants to. And despite the fact that he warns his class openly about this gift, one day you forget, and find yourself in a bit of pickle when Kim Seokjin reads your mind, and finds you imagining some not so school appropriate scenarios…involving him.

pink panther @gimmesumsuga

summary: The one where your boss, Kim Seokjin, tries to show you how beautiful you are

9 months to fall in love @floralseokjin

summary: It seems like everyone around you is either already in love, or in the process of falling, and while normally you couldn’t give a damn, finding out the co-worker you’ve had a teensy crush on is dating someone else at the office seems to sucker punch you right in the gut. It’s stupid, and you’re irritated at yourself, but you can’t seem to shake out of the funk you’ve fallen face first in. Feeling lonely and heartsore, and mad for no reason, during drinks with your best friend you spot a man at the bar. Tequila confident, you make your way over to the stranger, and successfully one thing leads to another. The next morning you leave before he’s woken up, feeling satisfied in one way, but still as discontented as ever. Telling yourself it was an inebriated mistake, you quickly try to forget about it. Only, three weeks later that night comes back to haunt you – in a very unescapable way…

dream come true @sugaurora

summary: Since your brother had warned you years ago that his best friend Seokjin was off limits, you’d only allowed yourself to safely fantasize about him in your dreams. You’re not sure why tonight his lips feel so much softer and his hands so much warmer than usual, but you’re also not about to complain.

whole @yoongiphoria

Yoongi

can't afford love @dollfaceksj

summary: Your childhood dream of having 2 children in a big house with a blooming marriage by this point in time has been eliminated the moment divorce came knocking at your door. With only one child and finding yourself back at square one, you ask your ex-husband—Min Yoongi—if he’d be down to fulfill 1 of these 3 things on your childhood’s bucket-list. And no, it’s not giving you a big house.

u suck !! @kithtaehyung

summary: Jimin’s cul-de-sac is filled to the brim with autumn leaves, trick-or-treaters, and halloween spirits. but the scariest part of the night? yoongi himself. and the way he looks downright sinful in his costume.

three tangerines ^

summary: throughout high school, you sometimes caught glimpses of your brother’s older friends: some of them were sweet, some of them were smart. but the one closest to him? that guy was a total f*ckboy from day one. after a foray of horrid relationships spanning years - ending with one that broke up with you for an alarming reason - you needed advice on what the hell you were doing wrong… and this wasn’t a conversation for anyone sweet or smart.

broken pt. 1 ^

summary: chilling conversations prolong things even further… until everything goes to hell.

ghostface killers @gimmethatagustd

summary: You’ve had your eyes set on Yoongi for as long as you can remember. What you didn’t know is that he’s had his eyes on you, too.

red & white @sweetestofchaos 💜

summary: you and yoongi have something to share this holiday

Hoseok

spookie coochie @gimmethatagustd

summary: The only monster Hoseok wishes you were interested in finding this Halloween season is his monster c–

drink champagne in my airplane @bangtanintotheroom

summary: Your friend Hoseok decided to use his excessive wealth for good and take the both of you on a much-needed vacation. The flight was meant to be relaxing until he broke out one of his most expensive bottles of champagne.

a holly, jolly crisis @kpopfanfictrash

summary: At this time last year, you thought you had it all. A kick-ass screenwriting job for the hottest TV show in LA, an actor boyfriend whose career was taking off and an affordable apartment with not one, but two bathrooms. Fast-forward to now and you’re single, soon-to-be jobless and searching for a way to scrape together January rent. Everything seems to be falling apart, which was why you told your family you weren’t coming home for the holidays. Enter your little sister, Sara, who recently became engaged to her boyfriend, Yoongi and needs you home to celebrate. The biggest problem? Returning home means you’ll be forced to face everything and everyone you left behind, including Yoongi’s best man – and your ex-best friend, Hoseok.

12 lays of christmas @minisugakoobies

summary: Your brother’s best friend Hoseok really likes your cookies 

it's a promise @sahmfanficbts

arranged marriage au

Namjoon

close, closer, closest @augustbutwinter

summary: you know your soulmate is close, but you haven’t met them yet. every day your counter goes up when you pass that one station. until one day it doesn’t.

make an effort @7ndipity

summary: When you ask Joon to be your fake boyfriend, he ends up finding out about your very real crush on him. Luckily for you, the feeling’s mutual.

a word from our sponsors @ugh-yoongi

summary: you’ve co-hosted a podcast with namjoon for three years; have known him even longer. the two of you have always been the picture of platonic, but that hasn’t stopped the internet from doing what the internet does. the shipping? a little weird at first, but you can understand it: two attractive twenty-somethings always in close proximity to one another, obvious (platonic!) chemistry—people have created ships for less. the fanfiction, though? also pretty funny… until you can’t stop thinking about it.

Jimin

cloud nine @suga-kookiemonster

summary: “he’s here again,” viv whispers. “you know who. the hot guy who’s totally into you.” and he is hot--devastatingly hot enough that you know he can’t actually be into you, because the universe simply doesn’t work that way. that still doesn’t stop your heart from pounding when he smiles at you from across the room.

menace @eoieopda

summary: Far and away the worst of your brother’s friends, you added Park Jimin’s presence in your life to the long list of grievances you held against Seokjin. Too bad you can’t keep your hands off him.

crescent bound @parkhabits

summary: One night you’re having the best hookup of your life and the next you’re being told that the little mark on your neck is more than just a hickey and that Park Jimin was more than you expected too.

the dark side of the moon @dovechim

summary: falling in love at first sight is cliche, not until it happens to you on a dark night in a lonely alley. but you’re only human, while Park Jimin is Alpha of his pack; it could never work out. so you resort to pining for him like a wolf howling at the moon, but when Jimin goes feral, that’s when everything changes. 

a remedy for mondays ^

summary: all you wanted was just one day off work. but for that to happen, you need to invent a plausible reason. and then somehow, somewhere along the way, things get out of hand, and now people think you’re having a baby with your co-worker Park Jimin after a one-night stand. confused? join the club.

heavy petting @kittae

summary: Your boyfriend is not just a cat hybrid, he’s also very needy! When you come home from work and you expect him to be all over you, you’re fairly disappointed to find he prefers a nap over some well-deserved quality time. You’ll make sure to pay him back for that.

the devil in his details @johobi

summary: Evil comes in many forms. In this instance, it’s a 5′8″ pretty-boy with an even prettier dick. And you’re the form you want him to come in.

me, you, and this thing we have between us @boymeetsweevil

summary: You’re pregnant and jimin is…happy about it

devil's advocate @7cypher

summary: You had met the devil on a hot summer day. He had shown up in a red polo, red cap, and white sneakers on his feet. That day, you had invited your devil into your home and he hasn’t left since.

no strings @kpopfanfictrash

summary: It started off as such a simple question. How to know if you’re bad in bed? Of course when you asked, you didn’t imagine Jimin would actually answer.

the ten days of ex-mas @kpopfanfictrash

summary: Three months following the worst break-up of your life, you finally feel ready to start moving on. The world, it seems, has other ideas when you pick up the phone and find your ex-boyfriend calling. Jimin Park, star right winger of the NHL and (until recently), the love of your life, has a very large problem. Despite the courage he regularly shows on the ice, in his personal life, Jimin is kind of a coward. When you broke up this fall, he could barely admit it. Not to his neighbors. Not to his friends. Not even to his family, who are expecting him home for Christmas. In a desperate plea for more time, Jimin begs you to pretend you’re still dating – and to his surprise, you agree. Faced with a second chance, Jimin is determined not to squander it. If only fixing a relationship were as easy as falling in love.

Taehyung

midnight @sailoryooons

summary: Taehyung loves being your prince charming, even if it means trying to find where you’ve wandered off to in the middle of a Halloween party without your shoes. 

the holi-date @kpopfanfictrash

summary: When your ex-boyfriend becomes engaged to his new girlfriend at your annual Holiday party, you admittedly are not in the best place. Which explains why you down six shots of alcohol, enthusiastically drop it low on the dance floor and – oh, yeah – tell everyone you are also dating someone. The only problem? You are obviously not. Good thing your neighbor happens to be cute and in need of a ride to work every morning.

of lace and lust @hobidreams

summary: friendship rule number one: don’t imagine how amazing your best friend’s cock would feel inside you. except that’s all you can think about after accidentally discovering taehyung’s kink for panties. specifically, the lacy ones you’re so fond of wearing.

hush @suga-kookiemonster

summary: four seats, five bodies. “careful, sweetheart,” he breathes into the shell of your ear, hands tightening over your waist in warning. you lick your lips, pausing just long enough to ponder: what if you don’t want to be careful?

rotten angelcake @inkedtae

summary: she’s as sweet as angelcake; he likes her honeyed rotten. this is a series following the complicated relationship between a sugar baby, sugar daddy and his corruption kink.

sausade @kimvvantae

summary: no one is born to be alone and no one can be complete in oneself - that’s why, in this world, every person has a pair, someone that complements their soul in every aspect. you, however, are an exception to the rule, for the mark on your wrist indicates that your pair has passed away way before you were born.

kinda hot @kimnjss

summary: you’ve always been cute, soft, tiny in taehyung’s eyes. but that’s changing one night when you’re accidentally sending him a naughty picture. forcing him to realize, maybe his best friend is kinda… hot?

Jungkook

jungkook drabble @euphoricfilter

summary: obsessed gf m/c and equally as obsessed boyfriend jungkook. he’s the light of her life, and she’s the reason he smiles

blessed with a curse @sweetestofchaos

summary: When your company throws a mandatory Halloween party, you aren’t thrilled. You’re even less thrilled when a delusional coworker ruins the party and places a curse on everyone because her crush, the resident werewolf, Jeon Jungkook, rejected them.

seasons don't fear the reaper @augustbutwinter

summary: life is short, they say. one day everyone meets their death, they say. how often can you meet yours before he takes you with him?

because i love you ch. 13 @readyplayerhobi

summary: According to society, Jeon Jungkook should not be with you. He should be with a younger, hotter and thinner girl instead of wasting his time on you. It’s a good thing Jungkook doesn’t care what society thinks then.

a holiday snowdown @kpopfanfictrash

summary: The Inn on the Hill is in trouble. Or that's what your boss, Namjoon, says during the last-minute All Staff holiday meeting he calls. You need money, and you need money fast, or his parents are planning to sell the resort. When no one can think of an easy solution, Namjoon proposes his parents' idea: a weeklong social media blitz with a celebrity guest. The celebrity? None other than Jungkook Jeon himself: two-time Olympic gold medalist, world-class snowboarder and the nation's sweetheart. What's the problem? You happen to have met Jungkook Jeon before, and sincerely hoped you'd never see him again.

all grown up @btsgotjams27

summary: A family reunion brings back the young boy you grew up with. Though he wasn’t the doe-eyed boy you once knew, he stood in front of you all grown up.

this is us ^

summary: you start to fall hard for jungkook.

OT7/Multiple Members

carnival of terror ch. 2 @theharrowing

summary: The carnival is in town, and it is unlike anything you have ever experienced. Will you make it out alive?

the gentlemen @honeymoonjin

summary: Sick of unsatisfying hookups, boring relationships or the company of your own hand? Apply today for the chance to be on bangasm.com’s very first reality show! Seven attractive young gentlemen will be vying for your choice of who is best in bed. All from different backgrounds, these men claim they’ll be able to rock your world, so don’t hesitate! Apply now!

of storms and vampires @wishesunderthestars

summary: During the worst storm you have witnessed in your life, a bat crashes on your window. When you bring it inside your cottage to take care of it, you realize it isn’t simply a bat but a baby vampire. Your past has come back to haunt you because Jungkook’s sire is no one else but Min Yoongi, who you had left behind when you disappeared five years ago.

oh, little red @jincherie

summary: You knew they warned you about that path for a reason, you knew you shouldn’t take it as a shortcut. You knew, but you were running late, and you did it anyway. Oh, little red, just what have you gotten yourself into?

Ateez

Seonghwa

let me keep you warm @sweetestofchaos 💜

summary: “Are you cold?” “A little bit but I’ll be okay.” “Come here, let’s get you all warmed up.”

#jjungkookislife fic rec list #jjungkookislife fic rec masterlist #jjungkookislife fic recs

[tsimvkas]

soft launch — mason mount insta!au

A/N: just tried to do something funny and cute whilst i’m still writing the next fic. i’ve never done this before 🫣 but im quite proud with the result. hope y’all enjoy it xx

pairing: mason x fem!reader | masterlist

masonmount

liked by benchilwell, kaihavertz, yourusername and others

masonmount nice sunny day with… summer 😎

username my beautiful boy

⤷ username our* beautiful boy lol

benchilwell missing my favourite mount already… summ should visit uncle ben

username who took these?

⤷ username someone from his family?

⤷ username just what i thought but according to jazs stories he took summer on his own

⤷ username can we just appreciate the pics? god he was missing for days and you’re losing your mind over something so simple, it could’ve been anyone walking around the park

yourusername

liked by yourbestieuser, benchilwell, masonmount and others

yourusername my little aesthetic perfect day

username the life i wish i had

yourbestieuser girlll those are some flowers uh?

⤷ yourusername 🤫

benchilwell sushiii

⤷ username hello????

⤷ username ariana what are u doing here

⤷ yourusername rhymes with benjii

username why ben and mason just started following her?

⤷ username bc they want to?

⤷ liked by yourusername

username im so lost, she is ben’s gf?

⤷ username if’s not, he’s losing

⤷ username right??? i loved her account

masonmount

liked by yourusername, benchilwell, yourbestieuser and others

masonmount thank you all for the birthday wishes 🤍

username happy birthday baby 🫶🏻

username the pink phone case? im not blind sir

⤷ username RIGHT? SHOW US HER RN!!!!

benchilwell bit sad you didn’t invited me to birthday breakfast but wish you a happy life anyways 🙄

⤷ masonmount yk i love you

⤷ benchilwell yea yea just teasing, i do respect others’ dates

⤷ username so he was on a date?

⤷ username tells us the name benjamin and ill k1ll her

⤷ username bitch show our future mother some respect

⤷ liked by masonmount

yourusername happy birthday mase 🥳

⤷ username ohhh is she the ben’s girl y’all talking about?

⤷ username i don’t think so, they seem to be just friends

⤷ liked by masonmount

⤷ masonmount 🥹 thank you

username what a fluffy cake 🥺 i wonder who made it

⤷ liked by yourusername

yourusername

liked by masonmount, yourbestieuser, benchilwell and others

yourusername nice week

yourbestieuser my breakfast presence was replaced lol

⤷ masonmount you and ben need to stop complaining

⤷ yourusername i think we should invite them to the next one and they can be distracted with each other

⤷ username and i think you should stop dropping things like this and give us a real confirmation

⤷ username they can’t bc they’re not together lol

yourbestieuser but i love to see you receiving what you deserve my baby 🫶🏻 flowers and coffee and attention that’s all i ever wanted for you

⤷ yourusername ily so much 😫

benchilwell oh i know that hand

⤷ username is it yours?

⤷ benchilwell idk, it is?

username IS THAT MASOJ HAND I KNOW HIS HAND OMG

⤷ username IS DEF MASON FCK

⤷ username feels like seeing my baby getting older 🫠

username shit mason is lucky

⤷ liked by masonmount

benchilwell

liked by yourusername, declanrice, masonmount and others

benchilwell holidays with my favourite people

username bfr are you soft launching her?

⤷ benchilwell jesus can you guys relax she’s my friend you’re paying attention to the wrong guy

⤷ username BENJAMIN WHAT DO YOU MEAN

⤷ username OMG SO MASE IS SOFT LAUNCHING HER

⤷ username isn’t that obvs? but y’all are pretending you don’t see it so your boy is still single

masonmount take your hands off of her 😠

⤷ username WHOS HER

⤷ benchilwell jealous mate? 🥱

username anyone knows her @?

⤷ username it’s yourusername

⤷ username ohhh she’s so pretty, mason is a lucky guy

⤷ liked by masonmount and benchilwell

masonmount

liked by yourusername, benchilwell, kaihavertz and others

masonmount revenge

⤷ benchilwell MASON MOUNT

yourusername cute

⤷ masonmount don’t play with me i’ll take revenge on you too

⤷ username wait i just- ?

⤷ username yeah girl they def something

declanrice lol what he did to you

⤷ masonmount he couldn’t find a girl to love him so he’s trying to take his friends’

⤷ benchilwell LIAR I WOULD NEVER

⤷ declanrice well that’s not what i’ve heard mase

⤷ benchilwell SHUT UP DECLAN

⤷ masonmount YOURE KEEPING SECRETS FROM ME????

masonmount

liked by maxverstappen, yourusername, benchilwell and others

masonmount partying with the enemy

maxverstappen you’re so judas coded

⤷ masonmount you know i love you more

⤷ landonorris so you love him more?

⤷ masonmount idk go ask sainz

⤷ liked by pierregasly

benchilwell it’s funny tho she’s always pissed with the results and you wanting cuddles

⤷ masonmount BENJAMIN SHUT UP

⤷ benchilwell no? you posted my sleepy pics

username who’s the girl???

⤷ username i think it’s @/yourusername

username at least she has taste,, forza ferrari 😋

⤷ liked by yourusername

yourusername

liked by yourbestieuser, benchilwell, masonmount and others

yourusername sun, bae and his favourite ice cream or he would stay the entire trip with the biggest pout the world has ever seen

masonmount your words don’t match with the hot man in the last pic

⤷ benchilwell funny tho, i don’t see any pics of me

⤷ masonmount that’s bc you’re ugly

username WAIT SHE FINALLY POSTED HIM

username THE LAST PIC???!!!! oh jesus he’s so hot

⤷ masonmount thank you

⤷ yourusername right?! ik

yourbestieuser oh girl you’re so so pretty 🥺 my baby

⤷ masonmount and mine

⤷ yourbestieuser not sure about this tho

username damn girl you’re hot

⤷ yourusername thanksss ☺️

⤷ masonmount if you like ur balls delete it

masonmount

liked by pierregasly, yourusername, yourbestieuser and others

masonmount happy valentine’s day, baby girl

yourbestieuser FINALLY OMG IVE BEEN WAITING FOR AGES

benchilwell thank god they’ll stop asking me if im dating

⤷ username so you’re single? 😏

benchilwell happy for you my cute pies

⤷ yourusername when you’ll get a gf tho?

⤷ masonmount well i heard something…

⤷ benchilwell keep your mouth shut

yourusername ily ☹️

⤷ username MOM

⤷ username you better give us boyfriend content

⤷ masonmount ilym ☹️

⤷ declanrice jesus you two make me sick of my stomach

declanrice my babiessss

⤷ yourusername we love you too

#mason mount imagine #mason mount fanfic #✧･ﾟ: *✧ rwmsdale — works

[momolady]

Placide the Paralangua

The festival of Ash is fast approaching. but before the excitement can build, there is lots of planning in order to prepare. Few humans are selected for the festival, but there is another handful that get to work closely with the Paralangua elders in order to plan and prepare the great event.

Female Reader x Male Monster (both cis)

===============================================

It had been a remarkably cold winter, marked by occasional snow flurries which were a rarity for your neck of the wood. You were used to a chill in the air, maybe some cold rain or ice, but this year felt different. It was as if a shift occurred somewhere in the fall and a wind of change had swept through the trees.

It did not stop your work though, and even through the holidays you worked on coordinating the Festival of Ash that would be happening in the spring. For the past few years now, you’d been hired as the main event coordinator for the yearly festival. All your life you had attended it, so it was an honor to be given this opportunity. This also allowed you a rare access to the paralangua elders in order to receive their input on the festivities.

You’re able to work from home and have set up an office in one of your spare rooms, but you’ll often have meetings with the paralangua that take place elsewhere. Usually you meet with a singular elder each time.

This year, your baby cousin, Lucie, had returned home and the two of you have been hanging out a lot. This year, she is one of the chosen for the Festival of Ash and she will be paired with one of the paralangua during the ritual.

“I’m so nervous,” she said. “I’ve heard so many different stories, I’m not quite sure which one to believe in.”

You had your back turned to her as she talked, fixing you both a cup of hot chai.

“You work with them, right?” She asked.

You smiled back at her. “I do. The elders vary, but they’ve all been very kind.” You took the steaming cups and set them on the coffee table. “It’s strange working with them after being told all our lives that they are a mysterious lot. But really, they're just like anyone else.

“But they’re giant albino lizards,” Lucie laughed.

“Gators,” you corrected. “And they’re quite beautiful to look at.”

Lucie picked up a cup. “You think so? I’m still not sure what to think. It makes me nervous picturing myself being…being with one of them.” Her cheeks blossomed into a bright pink and she kept her eyes casted away.

You chuckled. “Especially since it will be your first time. I can understand how that would make you nervous. But reportedly, they are excellent lovers.”

She fidgeted in her seat. “How big are they?”

“Well, considering most of them make me feel short, I’d say they’re very tall,” you laughed.

“No, I mean-” Lucie took a sip of her chai. “How big are they?”

You glanced at her with surprise. “Oh. Well, that’s one part of them I’m not familiar with. I usually don’t get that intimate while planning the festival.”

“I’ve looked online and I don’t know if I could possibly take anything bigger than a breadstick.” She held a shivering, terrified look in her eyes. “I sometimes wish I’d never been chosen.”

A spike of pain went through your chest.

“You get to have sex whenever you want, you can marry or date anyone you want. I’m twenty-one and still haven’t kissed a guy. All because I’m a stupid chosen.” She set her cup down forcefully.

“Careful.” You pulled her cup back. “And don’t say it’s stupid. You’ve been given a wonderful gift. And the paralangua who fights for you in the labyrinth is going to be yours for the rest of your life. They’re going to love you and adore you.”

“But it’s scary,” Lucie whispered.

You reached out and took hold of her hand. “You’re the lucky one here, Lucie. I understand you’re nervous, but trust me. Once you meet them, you’ll understand all the stories we heard as kids.”

Lucie pouted and sighed. “I hope so.”

“Besides, the dating pool these days is murky. I’m not that lucky,” you chuckled. “Have you seen the state of dating apps?”

Lucie’s smile returned. “Yeah, that’s true.”

The following afternoon you had a meeting with one of the elders. You drove to the castle on the hill and were greeted by him at the door. You were pleased to see it was Placide, your favorite elder to deal with.

Placide opened your car door for you. “Good morning. Another cold one, isn’t it?”

You gathered your things then took his offered hand to stand. “They’re calling for a snowstorm this weekend, can you believe it?”

He scoffed and rolled his dark, red eyes. “I will believe it when I see it. But the way the weather has been this winter, I would not be surprised.”

Placide made you feel petite in stature. He was so tall and broad it was intimidating. But he had a way about him that made you forget that. Unlike some of the other elders, he talked to you on your level, he got personal with you. It was easy to talk to him, which is why you enjoyed working with him. Not to mention his deep, buttery voice made your knees weak.

“I just hope the cold doesn’t linger in spring. I would hate for the labyrinth and the waters to remain cold, especially for our chosen this year.” Placide said as you walked inside and towards the dining hall.

“My cousin is one of the chosen this year, and she’s nervous enough about it as it is.” In the dining room you set your things upon the table, taking out your planner and laptop, both of which you felt were even less suited to the grand room than you.

Placide came up behind you and pulled out your chair. “Well, for her sake I hope the weather warms up.”

“Thank you.” You sit down and open your planner to the notes you had thought out last night. “She’s been asking me all sorts of questions about it. But I’m not quite sure how to answer her.” You ducked your head down and your smile remained sad. “I was never chosen as a child.”

Placide tilted his head up slightly. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

You shook your head. “Oh, it’s nothing now.” You opened your laptop a bit too forcefully. “What about you? Did you ever battle in the labyrinth?”

He chuckled. “Yes, I did. But it was a long time ago.” A distant look came into his eyes and he avoided gazing at you.

“Any advice you’d give to my cousin? She’s nervous about, you know, her first time and all-” You stop. “Oh god, that’s horribly inappropriate, isn’t it? Ignore me! That’s weird! I’m so sorry, Mr. Placide.”

He chuckled. “Just call me Placide, honey. And no worries. I was terrified the first time my victory and I were…you know.”

Your eyes pinched. “Victory?”

Placide’s smile became soft. “That’s what we call one another. Not exactly brides or grooms, are we? But we’re victories to one another. We fought hard to reach one another within the labyrinth; each coupling, each poly group that forms is a victory.”

“That’s really romantic. I didn’t know that part.”

Placide’s eyes cast aside again. “My victory, Carine was her name, she used to say that our first night together was equal parts awkward and sweet. As long as you can laugh together at things, you can conquer most obstacles in each others’ embrace.” He lifted his head up. “She used to love coming to the festival and talking to all the young ones going into the labyrinth. It was her favorite part every year.”

“Does she not do it anymore?” You asked cautiously.

Placide sighed. “I’m sure she does, in spirit at least.”

You felt completely awful. You brought this all up, and now you were having him talk about his deceased wife! You’re a monster, you thought to yourself.

“I’m so sorry,” you tried to smooth things over.

He shook his head. “I like talking about her. I didn’t have her as long, so the more I can talk about her the better that makes me feel.” He smiled. “But we do have business to attend to. So tell me, how goes it with the vendors?”

“Uhm-” You tap at your laptop to get it to turn back on. “So far, so good. A lot of locals are still willing to donate food to be served. And uhm-” You drop your planner onto the ground and reach down to get it. “There’s a lot of crafters this year who applied so-” Your head hit the bottom of the stone table with a loud thud that echoed through the door.

“Honey, are you okay?” Placide jumped up from his chair and came towards you.

You held the back of your head with one hand, while gripping tight onto your planner with the other. “I’ll be okay.”

Placide moved your hand aside to look. His hand felt so cold against the injured part of your head, it was nice.

“Do you feel tired at all?” Placide asked.

“I’m just embarrassed.”

Placide looked into your eyes, gazing really for what felt like the longest time. “I’m just making sure you don’t have a concussion.”

“I have a notoriously thick skull.” You tried to laugh but you were more nervous than you realized. Having Placide this close was doing some damage on the girly side of your heart. “Seriously, I was on a bike once as a kid and went right through the fence. Not a scratch on my head, and I went head first.”

Placide pulled his hand back and there was a touch of blood on his fingertips.

“That’s yours?” You asked.

Placide’s brow raised. “You’re hurt. Let me take you to Adele, she’ll be able to assess things better than I. Give me your hand, honey.”

He takes hold of your hand, then wraps his arm around your waist as you stand. For a moment, you thought this could be the cover of a romance novel.

“I’m fine, really!”

“I’m not risking it,” Placide said with a stern tone. “I’d hate myself if I sent you home and you drove your car into a wall or something.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.” You stopped when you saw the sharp look in his eye. “I’m joking. I’m joking!”

Placide led you further into the castle than you had ever been before. You passed by some paralangua and humans, all of whom seemed curious by your being there.

Placide knocked on a door with a golden plaque upon it. The plaque swung aside and bright pink eyes started out. “Placide, what the hell do you want?”

“This is our event planner,” he said. “She hit her head upon the table and now she’s bleeding a bit.”

“From where?” Adele snipped.

“The back of her head.” Placide sounded confused.

Adele closed the plaque and opened the door. “Oh, good. If it was her eyes or nose or something, that’d be bad. Just wait out here, Placide. I’ll get her looked at.” She closed the door behind you.

Adele was another one of the elders you liked to work with. She wasn’t flowery like the others, she was direct and liked asking questions that helped you sort things out.

“So you hit your head?” Adele had you sit down then pushed up your hair to examine. “I hate that stone table. I feel like laying on it like that lion in those kids books. How are you feeling, girl?”

“Like I hit my head.”

“Oh, good. I would have been concerned had you said you felt like you hit your knee.” She pushed your hair over the top of your head and wrapped some gauze around it to keep it out of the way.

“Is everything okay?” You asked.

“I’m just going to clean up this cut back here and keep you talking. I don’t think anything is wrong, but Placide overreacts to these sorts of things.”

“I told him I had a thick skull,” you murmured.

Adele dabbed something onto the cut that burned and stung; it made you kick your legs.

“Hold still.” She blotted at the cut with a bandage. “Yup, ole Placide is going to worry over you now.”

“Why?”

Adele let out a heavy sigh. “He was never quite right after Carine died. They were both so young, and trauma does things to a person.”

Your stomach sunk with how sad that was. “Oh.”

“I think you’ll live though. But if you start feeling any sort of way, you go to a hospital.” She said, helping you to stand up. She took off the gauze holding your hair up. “And be careful of that cut back there. It’s not awful, but getting shampoo into it will be.” She opened the door and Placide stood alert then relaxed when he saw you.

“Is everything okay?” He asked.

“Should be, the girl has a pretty thick skull, so she’ll survive long enough to have regrets.” Adele shut the door behind her without another word.

Placide still looked at you with concern.

You offered him a bright smile, hoping to reassure him. “I’m fine really. Let's finish our meeting.”

“Are you sure?” He walked along beside you. “You don’t have to continue if you don’t feel like it. I would gladly reschedule.”

“I’m fine, I can get through this meeting.”

He nodded. “If you’re sure. I’m sorry if my worrying comes off as annoying.”

You shook your head. “Adele told me about Carine, I understand why you do worry.”

Placide’s gaze faded into something pitiful. “I don’t like seeing people I care about in pain,” he said simply. “But I suppose that’s anybody.”

Your heart fluttered as if it had wings. “Anybody worth their salt, anyways.” You placed your hand upon his thick arm. “Thank you.”

He smiled and nodded. “I’ve grown fond of our meetings. Being an elder, things tend to get stuffy. I enjoy your company because it makes me feel-” He hesitated. “Well, it’s a highlight of my week when I get to see you.”

He needs to stop or I am going to allow this crush to progress further than it needs, you think to yourself.

You leaned in closer to him. “Don’t tell any of the other elders, but you’re my favorite.” You gave him a wink and he laughed. “The others feel so serious all of the time.”

Placide pulled out your chair for you again. “They’re still part of the age where this is all ritual, pomp, and purpose. They don’t see the fun in it like the younger generation does.”

You smirk at him. “Do you not consider yourself part of that generation?”

His smile grew. “How young do you think I am?”

“Hard to tell,” you smiled shyly up at him. “But considering you're an elder I would say you’re older than me, but younger than the elders you work with.”

Placide chuckled. “Well, you’re partly right. Paralangua don’t age like humans, so would it surprise you if I told you I was fifty?”

You stared for a moment, slowly easing back in your chair. “You’re not.”

“I am,” he laughed. “Is that really so hard to believe?”

“What’s your skincare routine?”

Placide laughed loudly and graced you with a big grin. “Having thick scales.”

You clicked your tongue and shook your head. “Damn. And here I am bragging about my skull.”

“This is why I enjoy our meetings.” Placide’s smile softens. “You always make my day brighter like this.”

He needs to stop or you’ll catch feelings, you thought.

“You too.” You say this then immediately open up the planner in hopes of covering up the sentimentality floating all around. “Vendors!”

“Yes, vendors,” he chuckled. “Last year we had that lady who made the flower crowns. I was hoping we could get her to do some ornate ones for the chosen group this year.”

You nodded and smiled. “I had that idea too and already brought it up with her.”

“Another reason I like you so much. You already have all the good ideas.”

Your cheeks flushed and you returned to discussing business as usual. As the meeting ended, the back of your head was pretty sore, so you were planning on putting a bag of frozen peas on it when you got home.

“Let me walk you out.” Placide took your bag and carried it for you. “How are you feeling?”

You put your hand on the back of your head. “There’s a knot for sure. But I have a bag of peas in my freezer that’ll take care of me tonight.”

Placide opened the door for you. “I may be stepping out of bounds, but I could come by and bring you dinner tonight so you wouldn’t have to worry. I feel responsible.”

Your stomach flipped. “Oh, no, no,  it’s okay really! It’s not your fault I hit my head. You don’t have to.”

His smile was gentle as he looked at you. “What if I just wanted to bring you dinner?”

Your stomach flipped again. “I mean…I like food.” You hated yourself and tried to recoup. “You don’t have to really! I’ll be fine, you don’t need to go out of your way. But if you wanted to-” You trailed off, unsure where to go.

“I want to,” he said. He opened your car door for you. “What time would be best?”

“Five, I suppose.” You still were still a bit confused. “I’m the one that hit my head though. You don’t need to worry.”

“It’s not just that. I want to see you, outside of this castle and not have to talk about the festival. I want to see you and only you.”

Not fair, not fair, not fair, not fair, the words ran through your mind. “You can’t say things like that, Placide, and expect a girl to stay okay for the rest of the day.”

Placide chuckled and kissed your forehead. “To feel better.”

Not fair, not fair, not fair, not fair!

“Drive home slowly. Just in case.” Placide handed you your bag. “And I will see you at five.”

“Thank you.” You weren’t sure what to say, and that probably wasn’t the correct answer. You sat in your car for a second, watching as Placide went back towards the door. He turned and waved at you, making your heart spike into your throat.

“Okay then…it’s a date,” you murmured in disbelief.

==================================

The first Festival of Ash you could remember attending, was the one where you were taken to see if you’d be one of the chosen. At the time, your town was small and there weren’t very many kids your age. It had been very likely at the time you were going to be chosen. The ceremony progressed as normal, but you weren’t selected.

All your friends had been chosen, and they talked about it all the time. You smiled and nodded along, congratulating them on how lucky they were. But of course, you were lucky too. You could date anyone you wanted. Sure. You could. Time went by, and by your twenty-first birthday you had placed yourself on the other side of the world, away from home, and away from the Festival of Ash that year, the year your friends would no longer be chosen, and instead be with their paralangua in the labyrinth.

It didn’t bother you, you could date whoever you wanted. It really didn’t bother you.

What did bother you was that your hair looked greasy and awful, but Adele had warned you about washing your hair while you had that injury at the back of your head.

“Oh sure, I have to injure myself like this.” You fussed with your hair, trying to style it one way and then another. But absolutely nothing looked good to you.

You tapped your forehead where Placide had kissed you. “Don’t get your hopes up. That never works out.” You put on an old, favorite beanie to cover the greasy hair as well as put extra protection around the bump growing from the back of your head.

“Just act cool. You can do that at least.” You strolled out into your living room and sat down upon the sofa. “Nonchalant. Casual. Cool,” you repeated the words to yourself. You picked up the remote to turn the TV on. But then the panic set in of having to select something to watch, so if Placide came at that moment, you could have something interesting on. Whatever you had on would be a reflection of yourself, an intimate peek into your daily life, the way your mind worked.

True crime documentary? No. Too creepy.

Something based on Jane Austen? No. Too desperate.

Maybe a video game walk through? No! Too corny.

Music? No! Your music is weird!

There was a knock on the door and you placed your remote down gently. No harm, no foul. You got up and went to the door, peeking on your video doorbell who was there. It was Placide, dressed in a very dapper wool coat and carrying a bag in each hand.

“Crap, he looks nice. And I look like an off the hours goth girl.” You calmed yourself. It didn’t matter. This was going to be a nice visit.

You opened the door and smiled. “Welcome! Glad you found the place okay.”

Placide stepped in and you offered to take one of the bags. “You have a beautiful house. I was surprised.”

You furrowed your brow. “You were?”

“I mean-” Placide cleared his throat. “I was expecting something much smaller. You said you lived alone, right?”

“This is my family’s ancient stomping grounds. I inherited it from my grandmother. The kitchen is this way.” You led him down the hall. “During the wedding season I rent it out for extra money.”

“That’s not a bad idea. It’d be a perfect place.” Placide stepped into the kitchen and looked around. He shed his heavy coat and hung it aside. “It’s so cold out. I’m glad your house is warm.”

“Surprisingly good heating system for an old house, right? Do you need helping with anything?” You asked.

“I just need to heat a few things up.” He set some wrapped dishes down on the table. “How are you feeling, by the way?”

You touched your hat and shrugged. “Hurt and embarrassed still.”

“Don’t be. Embarrassed that is. But is the pain bad?”

You shook your head. “Only if I touch it. And here, this is the stove.” You stepped aside to let him near it.

It did feel a bit awkward, but you couldn’t tell if it was all just you, or if maybe Placide was feeling it too.

“It’s odd, I’ve never talked to you outside of being an elder,” you chuckled. “I’m not sure how to quite…go about it.”

Placide’s tail twitched upon the hardwood floor and slightly perked up. “Just treat me like any other man you’d have in your home.”

“Not had that much experience there either,” you muttered under your breath.

Placide put the dishes into the stove. “Although, I am a bit shy myself. After Carine, there weren’t many women who piqued my interest.”

“I piqued you?” You wanted to hit your head again.

Placide chuckled. “I enjoy talking to you. Our last event planner used the same things every single year. But the past few years you’ve worked with us the Festival of Ash has changed and grown, it feels like it did when I was a young man again.”

“I would argue you’re still young.” You cleared your throat and glance aside. “I just know the festival is important for us. Not just the paralangua or the chosen. But everyone here knows it’s special.”

Placide’s smile is soft, but it was the way his eyes graze over you. There's confidence there, as well as a nervous vulnerability. “It’ll take a minute for the food to warm up. Maybe we should sit down.”

“Oh sure, here is fine. Or the sofa might be comfier for you.” You stepped towards the doorway, leading him back to the living room. He took a seat, curling his tail around his waist so it curled over his thigh and draped down.

You sat on the ottoman, a bit too anxious to sit on the sofa with him.

“You said your cousin was chosen. How is she looking forward to it?” Placide asked.

You shrugged. “Somedays she’s excited, other days she’s nervous. When I was growing up, most of my friends had gotten chosen too. I used to be so jealous of them.”

Placide tilted his head to the side. “Did it ever bother you?”

You swallowed. “Sometimes. I mean, I was happy for them. It was such a great honor and all. I got to see them get excited and nervous too.” You bit down on your lip. You sighed and shook your head. “There weren’t a lot of families here back then. Our group was small. So I felt left out a bit sometimes.”

“I’m sorry that happened, honey.” Placide’s smile was gentle as he looked at you.

“It’s fine really,” you tried to laugh. “I figured there was another purpose for me so-” You shrugged and brought a knee up to your chest. “I’m not worried about it anymore. What about you though? How was the labyrinth for you?”

“It was so long ago,” he chuckled. “I just remember all the build up and the adrenaline. The fighting was worse back then too, like you said, there were lesser people here long ago. So at the time I really had to fight my way through all the others my age.” He pulled up a sleeve and showed a scar on his arm that hindered the pattern of his scales.

“Back then, the ceremony didn’t really start until everyone had their stitches complete.” He offered out his arm towards you.

You touched his arm and ran your fingers up the scar, feeling how cool and smooth his scales were. “It was that brutal back then, huh?”

“Extremely.” Placide held your eyes for a moment then he sat up and pulled his sleeve back down. “There weren't enough humans to go around, and all of us wanted our own victory so badly.”

You wanted to ask more, but you felt that was prying too deep.

“I think everyone wants to feel like they’re being fought for in one way or another. I think that's why being chosen is so sought after. You want to feel like someone, anyone, wants you.”

You catch yourself in a nod then clear your throat. “It is nice.”

“I know romance is hard these days. But I’ve always been a bit of a dreamer.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Why don’t you come and sit beside me? I’m cold blooded and any extra warmth helps.”

Your cheeks warmed and you moved from the ottoman to the sofa, sitting near Placide and feeling more anxious than before. “It's a nice sofa. My grandmother bought it before she died, so it’s new-ish.”

“I see,” Placide chuckled. “It is nice.”

His hand was alone and vulnerable beside him. It was placed strangely though, almost like a piece of candy before a trap. You placed your hand upon the sofa, inching it towards his until your fingers brushed against his hand. His hand moved and then it was touching yours. You looked away as your hands touched then held one another.

“Do the paralangua allow this?” You asked out of nerves.

“It’s not exactly tradition. But it’s allowed.” He moved in close to you. “Although I do feel a bit strange. It’s been a long time and I like you.”

You leaned into his side. “I like you too.”

He chuckled. “Good. Or else this would be much more awkward than I feel.”

You laughed too and for a moment things were quiet. The two of you sat there, holding hands, and then a warmth seemed to grow between you.You shifted, facing one another again, and Placide’s mouth opened.

“Oh no, my spinach puffs!” Placide stood and held out his hand again. “The food should be ready now.”

Dinner was delicious, you ate more than you expected. But it was the conversation that came afterwards that you enjoyed most. You and Placide talked over coffee about little things. It grew from there as you talked about music, your love for punk and his surprising confession of playing guitar when he was young. From there, the night felt natural and time slipped away until you noticed the wall clock.

“I can’t believe it’s one already.”

Placide double checked it and laughed. “I had no idea! I thought it was still so early. Perhaps I should go.”

“Sorry I kept you so long. I’ll wash your dishes and bring them back later.” You rose to show him to the door, but he didn’t move. He remained sitting at the table with a stern look upon his face.

“Is everything okay?” You asked.

He sighed. “I want to kiss you, but I’m afraid of what will happen when I do.”

You licked your lips. “Nothing has to happen. It can just be a kiss.”

Placide stood and approached you. “I can promise you, it won’t be. So if we kiss, you’ll have to promise me you won’t let me get away with anything.”

It was just suggestive enough for you to enjoy it, and just a little cute. “You’re making me the responsible adult here?”

“If you can try to be.” Placide’s hand rested upon your waist. “One of us needs to think clearly.”

His hand brushed against your cheek, the smooth scales and dark claws made you shiver. “Should we pull straws for it?”

Placide bent down and there it was, the kiss. You were taken back for a second, almost watching down at yourself while it happened. But you returned to the present, pressing closer and closer to him as the kiss deepened. You held onto him as a moan rumbled in his chest.

Placide was the one to pull back and his hands both rested upon your waist, holding you tightly so you didn’t come closer or move farther away.

“See…” You cleared your throat. “You did well.”

“But I could sink deeper,” he growled against your ear. “I feel it. It’s an old desire but I know it.”

You smoothed your hand down his chest. “But-”

“Yes, but.” Placide released you. “We both mentioned it has been a long while. We shouldn’t let want override our own needs.”

“Right.We have lots of time anyways.” You handed him his coat.

“You would think so, but even from where I stand, time doesn’t matter. It only moves forward, and it can pull us under that current.” He slipped on his coat. “So that is why I’d like to know when I can see you again.”

You lost your breath for a beat. “I’m free tomorrow?”

Placide smiled. “Tomorrow then.”

For the next few weeks, you and Placide met regularly. Nothing more than kissing happened, but there were moments where it felt like something more would happen. But you stopped each time, agreeing to wait and make sure it was right.

One evening, you woke up on the sofa lying on Placide’s chest. The TV had gone back to the main menu, and it was the only light on. You laid your head back down, resting it upon his chest.

“I’m sorry,” Placide murmured.

His voice started you and made you jump. “What?”

“I felt you stir,” he whispered. “And I almost called you Carine.”

You sat up, seeing his eyes were still closed tight. “I was half awake,” he said.

“I understand. It's okay.”

Placide sat up and sniffled. “But I’m with you. I know that. I care for you deeply, more and more each day. And it was so long ago.”

“How long?” You asked. “I’ve wanted to know, but I’ve been too afraid to ask.”

Placide breathed in and let it out slowly. “I had her for ten years, and then she was gone. Then another ten years went by, and then another.” Tears filled his eyes. “Somedays it feels like yesterday.”

You held his hand tight. “I know.”

“She made me promise not to give up. That I was too good to not share.” He smiled sadly. “I feel like I’ve let her down.”

You cupped your hand around his face. “Do you really think that?”

His red eyes turned to yours. “I think it. But I know she wouldn’t.”

You kissed him then rested your head upon his shoulder. “Then stop it.”

His hands rubbed up and down your back. “I’ll try. I promise.” He lifted your head and kissed you again. Once again there was that unspoken desire between you. This kiss could go either way, all you had to do was decide.

“I want you,” Placide growled.

You panicked. “That’s nice.”

He laughed and held you tight in his arms. “If it wasn’t so cold out, I’d take you into the labyrinthe right now.”

“Why there?”

He sighed and cupped his hands around your face. “To make you feel like a victory. I know it bothers you, and I was hoping I could wait and make myself behave until spring. But the more time I spend with you, the more I can’t stop thinking about how much I want to be with you. I think like I’m young again, and I keep driving myself crazy.”

You bit your lip to contain your smile. “Have you touched yourself thinking about me?” You said with a teasing tone.

Placide grunted and averted his eyes.

“If you want to wait until spring, we can. I would like to see it for myself and have you win me over.” You kissed his neck and cheek. “If you can wait. I will too.”

Placide’s hands tightened around your hips and he fidgeted his lap. “I’m not sure I can. Right now I feel…frustrated.”

“Maybe I can just help with that.” You laid a palm in his lap.

“Wait-” His voice choked and he captured your wrist in his hand.

You kissed him, pressing up against his chest and easing him back down upon the sofa. You sat back up, tugging off your sweater and his eyes bulged. You kissed down his chest, the smooth, plate scales felt cool to your lips, but you were growing warmer and warmer with each second.

“Tell me about the labyrinthe.” You say as you straddle his lap again.

“Uhm-” He breathed in deep. “It’s beautiful. Lots of lush moss and vines. It goes deeper than most people think.”

You dip down, kissing his belly as he talks. Your fingers find a mound between his legs that’s begun to open and dribble out a viscous ooze.

“There’s places to swim, but it’s the underground lake that’s my favorite.” He whimpered and his hips bucked.

Your fingers were inside and bit by bit he revealed himself. The top was ruby red, and compared to the rest of his pale body it stood out. Even more so, the size of him was prodigious. The thick base of his cock was baby pink and when it was fully released it laid against his stomach.

“May I?” You asked, sliding yourself down to be between his legs.

“Please, keep going.” Placide gently cupped the back of your head, careful as there was still a tenderness there. You kissed along the shaft, dragging your tongue up to the tip. The slippery ooze that covered him was slightly sweet and barely unpleasant. You brought him to your lips, kissing down the side and feeling his pulse twitch.

Placide gulped and tried to breathe. “I would…I would take you to that lake in the labyrinthe and lay you there upon the moss. You would…you would know how badly I wanted you, how much of a prize you really are.”

Pausing, you tried to decide what to do. You sat up, removing the rest of your clothes and Placide placed his hands upon you. He kissed you and nipped your skin, burying his face against your soft form  until you sat upon his lap.

“Don’t move,” he growled into your ear. “I can feel you…so warm and wet.” His claws sunk into your back. “Don’t move or I’ll take you right here. Right now.”

His cock pressed against your mound. As you breathed, your body moved and rubbed against him.

“I want it,” Placide panted.

“Me too.” You looked into his eyes. “I can’t wait for spring when you’re right here. Show me the labyrinthe when it’s warm. But you’ve won me now.”

Tears were in his eyes. “I won’t waste this. I promise.” He adjusted himself, moving so that he could be inside you. You let out a long, strangled sound then buried your face upon his shoulder.

Placide turned so that his feet were off the sofa and you we leaned into him. He arched his hips, pressing deeper inside you. He held you up just a bit to pull out but he was deep within a second later.

“So warm,” he whimpered.

“So big,” you whined back.

Placide swallowed and pressed his forehead against yours. “I’m trying to control myself. You’re not helping things.”

“Don’t hold back. I want it.” You wrapped your arms around his neck. “Go ahead, do what you want with me.”

He shook his head. “I want to but-”

You kissed him, pressing your palms down upon his shoulders so he pressed into the sofa. You rode him, taking what you wanted if only to let him know you were ready for anything he could give.

“Oh god, honey-” he growled.

“Stop waiting and just-” You saw nothing but a blur before you and you were on the floor. Placide was on top of you and lifting your legs up before he pressed deep inside you again. It was another blur again mixed with snarls and grunts into your ear. He pressed himself into you, giving you everything he had.

A bright light woke you from your dreams. And while your bedroom was dark, the sharp, white light that reflected from your window was a thick blanket of sparkling snow. You rested back into your pillow with a deep sigh. You then felt arms around you, and kisses upon your neck.

“Good morning,” Placide whispered.

Your body remembered all at once his ferocity last night and you felt a shiver crawl down your spine. “G-good morning!”

Placide chuckled. “It was nice having this warm body last night. When it snows like this all I want to do is cuddle.”

“I almost thought I dreamed last night.”

“I went a little too hard, I’ll be gentle next time, promise.” He kissed your cheek and wrapped his body around you.

“Tell me again about the labyrinthe.” You say as you stroke your hands down his body. “What will you do to me there?”

Placide growled. “What I won’t do to earn my victory. Lay back, I’ll show you.”

#exophilia #tertophilia #monster romance #monster boyfriend #monster lemon #monster x human #monster x reader #teratophilia writing #exophilia writing #momolady monsters #my writing

[cyberp-1-nk]

HOMESICK S/O + OBEY ME BROTHERS.

☆ Masterlist / Requests ?

SYNOPSIS. How they'd react to you feeling homesick, and assuming that you're going to leave them behind forever.

PAIRINGS. Lucifer x Reader, Mammon x Reader, Leviathan x Reader, Satan x Reader, Asmodeus x Reader, Beelzebub x Reader, and Belphegor x Reader.

GENRE + WARNINGS. This is angst, but with a comforting/fluffy end.

WORD COUNT. 3,066

TAGS. @xpixie

LUCIFER !

☆ He's not stupid. He knows that you miss your home— he hears the way you talk to your human-world friends on the phone.

Lucifer had solely just been passing by your room— he hadn't intended to invade your privacy, but curiosity gnawed at him. You never really spoke about the human world, and to hear another human talking to you had piqued his interest. Listening intently to your conversation with your old friends. He had been curious about what was happening in the human-world lately, and he thought eavesdropping on your calls might give him some insight.

As he listened in, he heard your friend excitedly recounting their latest adventures. They had gone to a concert, tried a new restaurant, and hung out at the park. It sounded like they were having the time of their lives. Occasionally, he heard more of your friends interrupt each other, all equally excited to speak to you again. It's clear you were loved in the human-world as well— a pang of jealousy throbbed in his chest.

But then your voice came through the phone, and Lucifer could hear the sadness and longing in it. "It sounds fun," you said quietly. "I wish I could be there with you guys." Lucifer felt a pang of sympathy for you. He knew what it was like to feel homesick and lonely— when he had first arrived in the devildom after the celestial war, he had missed the celestial-realm deeply. He wondered if there was anything he could do to help you feel better.

He listened a little longer as your friends tried to cheer you up. They promised to take lots of pictures and send you updates, and they told you how much they missed you too. Lucifer could hear the genuine affection in their voices, and he felt a flicker of hope that maybe you would start to feel better soon. As he glanced at your face— he noticed how little beads of tears started to prick at your eyes. You quickly cleared your throat, and wiped your tears.

☆ He won't mention this to you unless he needs to. He'll silently try to bring more of the human world to you— he'll do some research on human-customs, holidays, and even your personal culture. You'll notice he starts to ask more questions about the human world, your favorite things about it. You'll eventually notice this, and reassure him that he doesn't need to put in all this effort to make you stay— you love your home, but you love him more.

MAMMON !

☆ Mammon is an idiot, but he's an observant idiot— only when it comes to you though. He notices the way your expression changes whenever you reminisce about your family, or how much fun you've had with your friends.

You leaned against Mammon's shoulder, your voice laced with bitter-sweet nostalgia as you spoke about your memories of your friends back in the human world— something you rarely did. "We used to do everything together," You said with a smile tugging at your lips. "Parties, road trips, late-night hangouts. It was so much fun." Mammon listened intently, a small smile creeping onto his face as he watched you reminisce. He loved seeing you happy and carefree, even if just for a moment.

But as you continued to talk, Mammon noticed a shift in your tone. Your voice grew incredibly quieter, and Mammon could see the tears starting to prick at the corners of your eyes. He put his arm around you, pulling you close. "I miss them so much," You said, your voice breaking. "I miss everything about being back there. The smells, the sounds, the people. It's just not the same here."

Mammon's heart ached for you as he watched you struggle with homesickness— he wordlessly adored you, he didn't want to let go, but he also didn't want you to be so sad. He knew that you loved the devildom and all the adventures you had together, but he also knew that a part of you would always long for your old life. "It's okay to miss them, ya know," Mammon said softly, tracing circles on your back. "You don't have to pretend that you don't."

You nodded, a tear rolling down your cheek. "I know," you said quietly. "It's just hard. I feel like I don't belong here sometimes, like I'm trapped in a world that's not really mine."

Mammon hugged you tighter, offering you a small smile— a hue of blush overlapping his face. "Ya know we all love having you here, right?" he said. "We wouldn't be the same without you."

☆ He loves you so much— and doesn't want to let you go back to the human-world, and it's extremely hard for him to come to terms with the fact that there is a chance you might leave him behind. He knows he won't be ready for something like that. When you pull him close, and reassure him that you're here to stay. Please, you're gonna make him sob.

LEVIATHAN !

☆ Jealousy starts to eat at him when he notices how often you start to call your old friends. He starts to distance himself once he assumes you're going to leave him for good. He loves you, and can't bring himself to let you go.

Leviathan had been noticing a pattern in your saddened behavior lately. You had been spending more and more time on calls with your friends from the human world, laughing and joking with them. He could hear the longing in your voice every time you said you missed them. Leviathan couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy. He had grown so used to having you all to himself that the thought of you leaving him behind was unbearable.

One day, when you were finishing up a call with your friends, Leviathan couldn't contain his feelings any longer. He looked at you with a sadness in his eyes that you had rarely seen— it worried you. "Why do you spend so much time on calls with your human friends? Don't you know that I'm here, waiting for you?"

You were taken aback by Leviathan's sudden outburst. You had never seen him like this before— usually he'd only lash out in jealousy towards his brothers, he'd never seemed to mind your friends. You tried to explain that you missed your old life, but that didn't mean you were going to leave everyone behind. "Leviathan, I'm not going anywhere. I made a promise to you, remember? I'm here to stay."

But Leviathan wasn't convinced. "You shouldn't have made me fall for you if you were just going to leave me behind," he said, his voice cracking with emotion. "I thought you were different, but I guess I was wrong."

You could see the hurt in Leviathan's eyes, and you knew you had to do something to comfort him. You took his hand and looked into his eyes. "Levi, I'm not going anywhere. I promise. But I can't just forget about my old life. I need to stay in touch with my friends."

Leviathan looked at you, his eyes softening. He knew you were right. He knew he was being irrational, but he couldn't stand the thought of you leaving. "I understand," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I just don't want to lose you."

You pulled Leviathan into a warm embrace. "You won't lose me," you said. "I'm here for you, always." Leviathan buried his face in your shoulder, feeling comforted by your words.

☆ He knew that even though you missed your old life, you were committed to your relationship. And that was all that mattered. He was just happy you were here to stay.

SATAN !

☆ He brought some famous books from the human world, and started questioning you about them. It led to you talking about how you were gifted some of these books at some point in your life, which ultimately led to you reminiscing about your family. He let you ramble since you probably needed to get it off your chest.

Satan had recently returned from a trip to the human world, and he had brought back a few books that he thought you might be interested in. As you sat together in your room, he pulled out the books and asked you about them. Your face lit up as you recognized the titles. "Oh, I remember these! My family bought them for me when I was younger," you said, flipping through the pages. "I used to read them all the time."

Satan watched as your eyes glimmered with fond memories, but as you continued talking, he could see tears starting to well up in your eyes. "What's wrong?" he asked, gently wiping away your tears.

"It's just...I miss my family," You said, your voice cracking with emotion. "These books remind me of them, and how much they cared about me. I wish I could see them again." Satan didn't say anything, but he listened carefully as you talked about your family, and the memories you had with them. He could see how much they meant to you, and he felt a pang of sadness knowing how much you missed them.

After a moment of silence, Satan spoke up. "If you want to leave and reunite with your family, I'll let you go," he said, his voice soft. "I know how much they mean to you, and I don't want to keep you here if you're not happy."

You looked at Satan, surprised by his words. You knew how much he cared for you, and how much he had sacrificed for you. "I...I don't know what to say," You said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Satan took your hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze. "I'm not going to force you to stay here if you're not happy," he said. "But if you decide to leave, just remember that I'll always be here for you. No matter what. Even if you don't return, I'll always be watching over you."

☆ In that moment, you felt grateful for Satan's kindness and understanding. He seemed saddened at the mention of letting you go, and the sour expression that twisted at his face— but you simply laughed, and pressed a gentle kiss against his lips. You reassured him that you're not going anywhere.

ASMODEUS !

☆ When noticing how sad you seem, he tries to remind you of all the great things that are in the devildom— aka, him. Why would you wanna be anywhere else when you have someone as perfect as him always by your side?

Asmodeus had noticed that you seemed more down than usual lately. You spent a lot of time looking at old pictures from your home in the human world, and he could tell that you missed it deeply. He didn't want you to be sad, so he decided to try and cheer you up. While you were scrolling through your phone, Asmodeus noticed that you were looking at pictures of your old house. He could see the sadness in your eyes, and he knew he had to do something to make you feel better.

Without a word, he gently pushed your phone aside and took your hands in his. "Why would you ever wanna leave when you have me?" he said, looking deep into your eyes.

You were taken aback by his words. You had never thought of it that way before. "I...I don't know, Asmo," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Asmodeus smiled and took your face in his soft hands— tracing his delicate thumbs alongside your face. "There are so many great things in devildom. And I'm one of them," he said, his voice full of confidence. "Why would you wanna be anywhere else when you have someone as perfect as me always by your side?"

You couldn't help but laugh at Asmodeus's words. He was always so confident and sure of himself, and it was infectious. You looked at him, really looked at him, and realized that he was right. Asmo was one of the greatest things in your life, and you were lucky to have him. "You're right, Asmo," you said, leaning in to kiss him. "I do have you, and that's all I need."

☆ Asmo grinned and pulled you close, wrapping his arms around you. He knew that he couldn't replace your old life, but he was happy to remind you of all the good things you had in the devildom. He was happy to be there for you whenever you needed him.

BEELZEBUB !

☆ When he notices that you seem homesick, he can't bring himself to come to terms with it. He wants to be selfish and keep you all to himself, but he knows it isn't right. He can't keep you here if you aren't happy. He unknowingly distances himself from you, and seems to be eating more than usual.

Beelzebub had always been close to you— ever since you had made that pact with him. He enjoyed spending time with you, sharing meals and laughs, and he had come to think of you as someone he loved dearly. But something had changed recently, and he couldn't quite put his finger on it. You seemed more homesick than usual, and every time you spoke about the human world, your eyes took on a faraway look that made him worry.

You had noticed that something was off with Beelzebub lately. He had been avoiding you, not showing up to meals or events you had planned together. You decided to confront him about it, and found him in the kitchen, scoffing down large amounts of food as his back was turned against you.

"Beel, can we talk?" You asked, your voice gentle but firm— your eyes narrowed slightly as you questioned him. It was very unlike him to just— avoid you without saying anything. Usually, he was very straightforward with you. Beel turned around slowly, and your heart sank at the sight of his red, puffy eyes. "What's wrong, Beel? Are you okay?" You asked, stepping closer to him.

Beelzebub hesitated for a moment, then spoke softly. "I'm sorry for avoiding you. I just...didn't want to burden you with my problems."

Your gaze softened, and you reached out to touch his arm. "Beel, you can always talk to me. You don't have to go through things alone."

Beelzebub nodded, his eyes downcast. "It's just...I don't want you to leave. I know how much you miss home, and I can't bear the thought of you leaving us."

Your heart swelled with warmth at Beelzebub's confession. "Beel, I'm not leaving. I may miss home sometimes, but the Devildom has become my home too. And you guys...you're like family to me."

Beelzebub's eyes widened, and he looked up at you with a mix of surprise and gratitude. "Really? You mean that?"

"Of course I do," You said, smiling. "I don't know what I'd do without you guys. And I especially don't know what I'd do without you— I love you, a little more than the others. Don't tell anyone that though." He was caught completely off guard as you walked up closer to him and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in with a soft, but tight grip. He lightly flinched when you put your hand on the back of his head, but his muscles relaxed when he felt yout soft hands run through his hair. You smiled when you could hear his heartbeat, and it was beating fast.

☆ He knows you're here to stay— even if he gets worried sometimes.

BELPHEGOR !

☆ He probably gets really upset. He doesn't want you to leave, he doesn't even want you to have thoughts of leaving forever.

Belphegor had always been a laid-back demon, preferring to spend his days napping and lounging around. But lately, he has become more attentive to you. He had noticed how homesick you seemed, and he couldn't bear the thought of you leaving them behind— he already lost Lilith, he can't lose you too.

So whenever you were on the phone with your friends from the human world, Belphegor would cuddle up to you, nuzzling his head against your shoulder and purring contentedly. And whenever you tried to look at pictures on your old phone— the one you had bought in the human world, he would immediately sprawl out on your lap, his weight making it impossible for you to move.

At first, you found it amusing. Belphie was always so lazy, it was funny to see him so determined to distract you. But as time went on, you started to feel frustrated. You missed your friends and family from the human world, and you wanted to talk to them without any interruptions. One day, you had finally had enough. "Belphie, can you please get off me? I'm trying to talk to my friend," you said, trying to push him off your lap.

But Belphegor was fast asleep, his breathing deep and even. You sighed in exasperation, but something about the way he looked so peaceful made you hesitate. You looked at him for a moment longer, then spoke softly. "Belphegor, why do you keep doing this? Why won't you let me talk to my friends?"

Belphegor stirred slightly, then opened his eyes and looked up at her. "I don't want you to leave. I like having you here."

Your heart swelled with warmth at Belphegor's words. "I'm not leaving, Belphie. I promise. But I need to talk to my friends sometimes. It doesn't mean I love you guys any less."

Belphegor blinked slowly, then yawned and stretched his limbs. "I know. I'm sorry. I just...don't want you to be sad."

You reached out to stroke his head gently. "I appreciate that, Belphegor. But it's okay to be sad sometimes. And it's okay to talk about it."

Belphegor gazed up at you with sleepy eyes, and you felt a surge of affection for him. Despite his laziness and his quirks, he cared about you in his own way. You leaned down and gave him a soft kiss on the forehead.

☆ He eventually learns that you aren't going to leave, and it reassures him— he loves you, and just doesn't want you to go.

#obey me x reader #obey me #obey me x mc #obey me nightbringer #obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer #lucifer x reader #lucifer x mc #obey me mammon #mammon x reader #mammon x mc #obey me leviathan #leviathan x reader #leviathan x mc #obey me satan #satan x reader #satan x mc #obey me asmodeus #asmodeus x reader #asmodeus x mc #obey me beelzebub #beelzebub x reader #beelzebub x mc #obey me belphegor #belphegor x mc #belphegor x reader #obey me nightbringer x reader #obey me nightbringer x mc #obey me nb #obey nb x reader

[rkiveinmarvel]

in all the seas - sanji vinsmoke. des. fluff. post-timeskip!sanji. the one time sanji left baratie: led him back to you. notes. sanji might be ooc. this is a test fic, i just miss my boy so much. fluffy! fluffy! fluffy! sanji meets enemies-to-lovers troupe, poor boy is nosebleeding again, mentions of smoking (don't smoke too much, guys!), mentions of the straw hat pirates shenanigans. i miss sanji, i want to kiss his forehead and give him a hug! ;&lt;

hey! it's my first time writing for op (gosh, i remember when i said i won't write a fic for anime anymore but here i am now enjoying skypiea zoro ;P what a clown) n e way, sanji might be a little ooc here but i miss him so here you go, a fluffy sanji. i wrote this around 1 am so, please enjoy! happy holidays!

w.c: 2k (and i oop--)

Sanji was indeed a man with a lot of tricks up his sleeves: he’s from the family of mercenaries, part of the famous Straw Hats Pirate, and of course one of the greatest chef in all the seas, with his handsome face, strong kicks and talent in the kitchen, one could assume he’s everything a person can wish for, and that he is.

You’ve been working at the Baratie for years ever since the restaurant found its place on the East Blue, as a kid you were raised by Zeff along with a blonde kid who hates putting artificially made flavor on a dish. You cooked something with something artificially made, he hates it. He cooks you something, you hate it. It was a game of cat and mouse but somehow, Zeff saw this a familiar scene and a everlasting promise between two kids that somehow will always find each other.

“Sanji! I’m hungry!” The voice of Luffy woke Sanji’s staring into space, as the cook of the straw hat stood up, the sharpshooter of straw hats watches him intently. “Sanji, is there something wrong?” Then, he met Usopp’s wondering eyes, as in the back of his mind, he is back in the Baratie, back to you. He lightly shook his head, ignoring the sharpshooter’s question: was it the empty space of the kitchen that made him wish he was with you, was it the vast sea that made him wish you see the lovely view too, was it his new family made him wish that you should’ve met them too, instead of speaking out his thoughts and secrets, he gave Usopp a smile, perhaps a reminder to the sharp shooter that their cook is alright. 

The lingering look of longing is still on Sanji’s face until their next voyage on the vast sea, it made the straw hat worry, hell, even the swordsman is now giving Sanji a look of worry, but somehow, when the crew has met a nearby island, they hoped that their cook would have a peace of mind, a recollection of what he longs for, what his face wishes for. As the reached the shore, the crew pushed Sanji out of the ship as they gave him a reassuring look to take all the time he needs to fill the void that’s slipping in his emotion, face, and his cooking.

As he walked to the island’s market, a familiar scent danced in his nose, a cooking that smells like his first home, as his feet lead the way into a fully packed restaurant, a familiar sight of food greeted him. He immediately sat somewhere on an empty table as he scans the menu.

The time pass by faster than he expected, as for once, he ate the food with a smile on his face, perhaps, realizing that he may have a competition in being the best chef in all seas: but this trivial things did not bother him, until, he tasted an articially made flavor on one of the dishes. Instead of throwing his anger like he always do when arguing with the straw hat’s swordsman, he clicked his tongue and requested to talk to the main chef of the restaurant.

Clink. Click. Clink.

Empty Dishes after empty dishes came into the kitchen, with a smile on your face you were happy with the unending order in the restaurant, until your new waiter had come bearing news about the blonde guy at table 19, with a tired sigh, you removed your apron and went outside to talk to the blonde guy at table 19.

Clink. Click. Clink.

“What seems to be the problem–Sanji?” Your eyes widened as your eyes seem to betray the sight infront of you. The blonde man then catches your surprise gaze as he was about to light his cigarette. “Oi–your..” he stopped at his words as he catches and drowned himself into a familiar sight. You’re here. You’re here infront of him. 

Instead of saying anything, the both of you seemed to memorize each others faces. 2 Years is indeed a long time, you noticed his growing beard, he memorized the length of your hair, you noticed his new suit, he noticed the tired yet happy look on your face.

“So, you left Baratie.” The both of you uttered the same time, as a chuckle left your lips: Sanji felt like crying—he missed you so damn much. “Bet Zeff didn’t let you go that easily.” He commented as he gestured you to seat. “He actually did, telling me to look for you and kick your ass as we saw your new bounty.” You laughed as Sanji bottled that laugh in his ear. 

“Did he now…” He countered as he lips curved into a soft smile. “Stop looking at me like that.” You immediately notice his gaze, making him look away. “Looking you like what?”

Clink. Click. Clink.

—----

Clink. Click. Clink.

“Heard the Straw Hat invited you to be in his crew..” You stated as you sat next on the deck with Sanji as he lit his cigarette. He looked away as you asked the question. “He did. I don’t want to.” He openly sighed and filled the space with smoke, as you click your tongue, you grabbed the cigarette on his hand, and inhaled the smoke yourself. “So, I guess you’ll be here in the Baratie in all the end of time.” I laughed. 

“What? Do you plan to leave?” He wondered as you meet his knowing look as you just laid your head on his shoulder. “Depends. Your cooking sucks.” He chuckled as he glared at you. “You use artificial flavors in your cooking!” He sounded so offended. 

You nodded as you gave back his cigarette. “Go.” He knows that look, he’s way too familiar with that look. “Zeff can handle Baratie himself, that old man can be anything he wants. So, go.” 

Clink. Click. Clink.

“I’ll be fine, Sanji.” His voice seems to blend with sea and the seagulls. “It’s not about you.” He looked away as he hid his blush. “Is it?” I chuckled as you stood up and knelt infront of him. “I’ll be alright, Sanji, and besides, didn’t you say you’re going to prove to me that All Blue is real, how can you do that with you staying here.” 

“You’re really making this hard for me, you know..” He grumbles as you gave him a look. “I tend to make you suffer until the end of time, Sanji.” You smiled.

“Stop looking at me like that.” He softly uttered as he leaned in. “Looking you like what?” You replied as you closed the distance feeling his warm lips on yours, as the noise of the sea seem to silenced at this moment, seems like the seagulls have found a place to rest, seems like the warm rays of the sun has bit put on rest. As you pulled away, you met his eyes. “I’m still a better cook than you, you know.” He chuckled.

“Oh, I know. I know. Get out there, Sanji.” You smiled as you stood up, walking away from him, leaving the blonde boy with a distinct nosebleed and a lovesick smile on his face.

—-------

“So, you’re here.” He said with a smile. “Good to see, you still have your both feet on the ground.” You smiled as you saw that his bangs have changed its position. “You changed your look.” You commented as he just stares at you. 

“What?” You wondered as he just looked at the food: “You used artificially made flavors.” He complained as you rolled your eyes and just snickered. “You never really got over it, didn’t you?” you laughed. “Why don’t you walk over our kitchen, Mr. Sanji.” You teased as you stood up and lead him to the kitchen. 

The tour in the kitchen was just short and subtle; it surprised him that the artificial flavor he hates was actually made by you: he find it funny and continue to tell you that he is the best cook in all seas. By the time the tour finish, he caught a familiar wanted poster hanged on the wall. A poster that he hates so much.

“Seriously, that poster?” He rolled his eyes at you. It was his first wanted poster with no picture attached but an illustration. You chuckled at his antics: “What? The artist took your beauty really well.” You chuckled, as you stare at him.

“I miss you too, by the way.” You stood closer to him as he walked towards the wanted poster hanged on the wall. He blushes as he looked at you. “Does your miss kinda works its way on you giving me a ki–”

“ORDER UP!” Before he can continue, orders came in like a wave from the sea, Sanji frowned at the timing. “Oi, loverboy, talk to you later.” You tapped his shoulder as you left him on the corner, with a smile on his face. He hid his blush and walked back to their ship.

—-----

A familiar straw hat greeted your eyes as you walked on the shore. “OI!! SANJI!!” He shouted happily, as you noticed Sanji walking down excitedly as you approached their ship. As he ran towards you, he gave you a tight hug. “You’re acting like we didn’t talk earlier.” You grumbled in his hug, as you return it. “I had to keep my appearances, there were bounty hunters in the restaurant, after all. If they knew I had some connection on you, they might–”

You punched him lightly on his stomach. “I can handle myself, Sanji.” You sighed: “We’re both raised by Zeff, you know how he is.” you ran your hand in your hair as you looked at Sanji’s face dancing the sunset’s rays. With a teary-eye he looked at you: ah, they’re going to leave again. 

You nodded as you just offered your hand to Sanji as you both walk, quietly and appreciating the fondness of the gift of time in the shore. As you two walked, Sanji noticed that you never let go of his hand. “You actually missed me.” He said in such proud tone. He waited for a teasing remarks instead, you just nodded which surprised him.

“Missed you so much, ‘Ji.” You admit as he stopped his tracks and looked at you. Without saying anything, you embraced him as you hid yourself in his chest: god, he missed you too—so damn, much. He just nodded and hugged back your deep embrace. As the sun continue to bathe in the sea, you whispered the stories on how you got to the island and leaving Baratie. He listened intently as he drew circles in your hands, as the moon slowly reveal itself in the sky. He kissed your hand.

“Will you be here, ‘till I find the All Blue?” He asked, but his tone was pleading and full of hope. And just like before, you lay down your head on his shoulder: but this time, you grabbed a cigarette and lit it up as he muttered. “I’ll come back, you know that right?” He smiled as he grabbed the cigarette from your hand as he inhaled the smoke. You just nodded as you held him a little closer: for once, he thanked the past that you let him go—not only because he met an amazing crew but for once, you looked at him: not as a rival in cooking but someone—as your person. 

He thought the kiss from the past was just a mere kiss of heat of the moment, but here you are next to him and you looked so gorgeous—as if he was made to see you in all your shining glory—the lingering looks, the bickering, it all leads him back to you. “Go.” You muttered as he smiled as he kissed your hand. “We’ll be alright, Sanji.” That’s it, he leaned in and gave you a knowing kiss, a kiss that bears a sorry for the two years he wasn’t able to hold you and a kiss that carries promise of the upcoming and untold stories of the both of you—and by all the pirates in the world, he can’t wait to spend the rest of his days next to you in all eons, in all times, and definitely in all the seas.

fluff is like a new ground for me lmao, angsty-fluffy zoro and luffy coming right up!

⚘ masterlist 1 | 2 | 3

#sanji vinsmoke #sanji #black leg sanji #sanji vinsmoke x reader #sanji oneshot #one piece #one piece imagine #opla #one piece live action #sanji imagine #vinsmoke imagine #straw hat pirates #straw hat sanji #trinity_archives #one piece au #one piece sanji #sanji x reader #black leg x reader #vinsmoke x reader

[sunflowervoltwentyeight]

Happy 28th! Here is my March 2024 fic rec, organized by word count, from longest to shortest. You can view my other fic recs here. Enjoy!

Sunshine, Baby! by staybeautiful / @harruandlou (106k)

Louis was the first one down the row for their group. If he hadn’t been they would have never met.

He was turned around, walking backwards and saying to Liam, “No, I’ll get you to a real footie match next,” when he bumped into someone.

“Oops,” Louis laughed, tripping over his own feet. A hand curled around his upper arm as he nearly fell over the seat in front of him. “Sorry about that, mate.”

He turned around, still teetering in his vans, to apologize again, but the words dried in his throat. Another hand gripped his other elbow, steadying him, but all Louis could see were green eyes and dimples.

“Hi,” the man laughed, a bright, bubbling sound. “Are you okay?”

Or Louis is in his first year of law school, Harry is a junior on the swim team dreaming of the Olympics, and they both agree that they don't have time for anything more than friends with benefits... right?

Follow Your Arrow by Anonymous (78k)

Harry was the golden child, blessed in every way; Niall was the charming miscreant, a bad boy; Liam was the future-son-in-law parents of daughters dreamt of, and Zayn was the kid parents wished was their son. But Louis, Harry thought, Louis was the special one. 

It's senior year and everything is about to change.

Where We Landed by blueskiesrry / @blueskiesrry (70k)

The leaves were green the last time Harry stepped foot in Holmes Chapel, a stark contrast to the candy apple, butterscotch painting them now, years later. Harry first notices them on the train, gazing out the window with a downturned mouth. A warm something floods his stomach–memories, Harry imagines, of him as a boy, longing for the days when he’d live elsewhere and have to take this very train home for the holidays. He wonders how it’s possible to have once felt eager and euphoric at the sight of changing leaves yet now to feel nothing but tired. He sighs softly, turning away from the trees to look at his daughter, half-curled in his lap, asleep.

or: harry returns to his hometown with his sick daughter and more reminders than he bargained for of the boy he once loved when he left a handful of years ago

You'll Always Find Your Way Back Home by styleandsin / @styleandsin (43k)

Now, as he’s standing in the doorway, he’s trying not to get choked up. He hadn’t realized how much he missed this: the smell of his mother’s baking, the sounds of each of his family members, the sight of some of his old toys scattered about the foyer where his littlest siblings had presumably left them. All these things scream home, and he hadn’t felt at home since he left this house eight years ago.

 Louis needs a break from everything, from acting and the constant pressure of life in LA. He decides to move back home for a bit, some time with his family is exactly what can lift his spirits. What he doesn't expect is to fall in love. Both with the town he hated so much so that he couldn't wait to leave it years ago and with a curly haired florist that was the complete opposite of the guys he'd often meet in LA.

Something About Liminal Spaces by kingsofeverything / @kingsofeverything (34k)

Searching for inspiration for his latest book, and hoping distance will help heal his broken heart, Louis Tomlinson heads to the village of Piha on the west coast of New Zealand’s north island.

There he meets Harry Styles.

Fifteen years older than Harry, Louis tries to keep his distance, but Harry is impossible to avoid and harder to ignore.

At Risk, I Fold by clare328 / @bearmustard (15k)

2015 is a stream of hotel rooms and whisky on the rocks, tired glances and touching hands under tables. It’s the bears and the bees under a rainbow sky, and Harry and Louis have to figure out how to grow up together, instead of apart.

Wedding Bells Will Never Ring For Me by lousmoonshine / @lousmoonshine (14k)

After a failed proposal a few years back, Louis gets an unexpected invitation to his ex - Harry’s – wedding

Some Kind of Night Into Your Darkness (Colors Your Eyes With What's Not There) by larryismylifesource (5k)

Harry’s body buzzes with heat, like a current underneath his skin, because it’s been too long and his husband is right here and for once they have no obligations other than each other and he just wants.

“Lou.”

And Louis must sense it, the way the atmosphere shifts against him, the way Harry’s eyes get all big and dark with need, because he meets Harry’s gaze and then yanks him down for another kiss.

or, the boys get a day off in the middle of tour and harry and louis use it to their advantage

#28th appreciation #larry fic rec #march fic rec #monthly fic rec #fic rec #hlcreators #read

[writingmysanity]

Commit to the Bit (2)

Pairing: Sanji x Fem!baker

Word count: 4445

TW: slight violence. Jeff is a jerk and Sanji kicks him out... literally. Peter is an angel.

AN: Sorry this took so long to get out! Holiday, Family, Kids field trips, unplanned.. everything. Of course it all happens at once lol. There *will* be a part 3. Thank you so much for all of the love on part one, it really brings me so much joy to know you guys love them as much as I do.

<<part one part three>>

========

Morning comes sooner than you wished it to, earning a soft groan as you roll yourself out of bed. The far too close cry of your neighbor's rooster, who you've found often decides to scream whenever it pleases, startles you as it stands outside of your window as it does every morning. Yelping, you slip from the side, landing painfully on your butt as your blankets fumble to the floor around you.

For a moment, there is silence as he peers in the window, eyes locked on you as you stare back, eyes heavy with sleep.

“Can I not have one morning of peace?” you growl out, narrowing your eyes. At this, the creature squawks at you before bounding off from the ledge. As if congratulating itself on a job well done, you can hear it babbling to itself all the way back to its coop. Huffing, you push yourself to your feet slowly, tossing your blankets back onto the bed before moving to get your day started. 

It isn't long before you are standing before the bakery, keys in your hand, limbs heavy with the sleep you wish you had gotten. The warm night does nothing to aid in waking your sleeping thoughts, your body moving purely on auto pilot. 

“Good morning,” you hum to the body waiting for you by the door as you approach. “You’re on time.” you can't say you aren't surprised. This is an ungodly hour to most on a good day, but you had stayed up entirely too late the night before, conspiring with the strawhats on how this will play out, and what the plan will be. 

He seems almost offended that you expected him to be late, but sighs. 

“I get up this early every day,” he grouches a bit, pressing the door open once you unlock it, motioning for you to go in first as he holds it open. You pause, offering him a small, sleepy smile. 

“Thank you.” your voice is barely above a whisper, but you know he can hear you. He nods with a small smile of his own. 

“You’re welcome,” he says quietly back as you both wander into the bakery. You automatically start into your morning chores – sweeping, placing the chairs down from the table tops, wiping down the countertops. Sanji falls into step around you, helping you settle the heavier things properly, even if you didn't need the help. He just waved off your protests on being able to do it yourself with a smile. 

“Just because you can do it by yourself, doesn't mean that you should.” he stated clearly after Angie had left for the morning, as if it had been the most obvious thing in the world. Without another word, he moves to wipe down the various panes of glass around the shop, muttering about dirty pirates leaving scuff marks. 

As the morning drags on, his quiet quips continue, each one earning a huff from you as you work to keep your laughter to yourself. Though, the shake of your shoulders gives you away each time. 

You don't catch the way his eyes light up at the motion until later. 

Sanji is, of course, wonderful in the kitchen. You had hoped as much after learning about his culinary roots. This, of course, caused a slight problem for you both as you had to utter a sentence you never thought you'd have to say as you eye the way Marines continue to hover outside your door.

“Ruin the pastry, Rudy,” you hiss quietly at him when a few patrons come barreling through the doors. Sanji looked how you felt – scandalized. It hurts your heart to think of the wasted dough, but you have already put entirely too much into this bit. The unfortunate truth being, you can't let his own talent ruin it. He is still standing at his post in the kitchen, dumb founded, when you are whisked away to fill more orders. 

“Hello!” you sing everytime. “Welcome in.” 

You can feel his eyes on you, though you ignore the sensation. On more than one occasion, he has meekly brought you a ruined platter, eyes large and upset. You know he is upset at having to ruin a dish, something he never thought he would aim to do in his wildest dreams. In fact, it seems he is currently living his worst nightmare. Yet, he sells it well, whispering apologies when he “thinks” the current patron isn't paying attention. 

“What did I do wrong on this one?” he sighs, knowing full well what went wrong. 

Sabotage. 

The customer before you is quick to assure him with a smile. “It takes time, young man,” she states clearly, her smile turning teasing as her eyes turn to you. “You should have witnessed the dishes this one was turning out when she first started.” flushing, you wave her off with a pout.

“We don't talk about my apprentice days,” you huff, looking down at the pastry. Sanji does his best to keep the amusement from his expression. “I'll meet you in the kitchen here in just a moment and we can figure it out together” you offer patiently. He just nods, ducking back into the kitchen with one final glance at you that you don't catch, but your customer does. 

“But of course,” she muses, eyes twinkling in the bright morning light. “He’d perhaps make fewer mistakes if he could keep his eyes on what he is doing.” you raise an eyebrow at her as you finish wrapping her pastries. 

“Hm?” she just snickers. 

“It’d take a blind man to miss how he looks at you dear,” she hums delightedly. “And dare I say, you could do so much worse.” her tone turns almost sour as Jeff walks through the door, earning an amused huff from you as you hand her the wrapped package. 

“Thank you, Marie. It is always a pleasure to see you,” you say softly as she places a hand over yours with a wink and a nudge towards the kitchen before she turns to glower at the tall man standing behind her attempting to earn your attention through his normal antics. The huffs and whines do little but irritate you as he continues to wait impatiently, scuffing his boots on the panels that Sanji had painstakingly cleaned that morning. 

Oh he was going to hate that.

Marie stalls as long as she can, a mischievous smile stretched across her face as she listens to Jeff’s attempts to gather your attention to him grow louder and more frequent. You continue to answer her questions, your own amusement sparkling in your eyes as you watch her enjoy herself in irritating the man. 

“Well,” she finally calls slightly louder than she had been talking, after killing another five or so minutes asking various questions about the cooking processes and local yields. “You have been so hospitable, dear.” she hums happily, listening to Jeff grunt behind her in irritation. Even he wouldn't be rude enough to cut the woman off, being one of the few local elders left on the island. “Thank you for indulging an old lady.” 

You smile brightly, nodding to her, laughing softly. 

“You are always welcome, Marie.” you state softly. “Any of your curiosities, I am always happy to indulge in.”

Jeff, surprisingly, waits until she is out of the door before approaching the counter. His face is contorted somewhere between elation and mild annoyance, his smile twisting slightly as he says nothing at first. 

When you don't move to grab anything, he huffs. 

“Are you not going to get my order?” you raise an eyebrow at his tone, rough and harsher than usual as his smile twists down slightly. 

“You haven't ordered anything yet,” you answer, voice tight. You're proud of yourself when you manage to keep the smile on your face. 

“I order the same thing every time,” he insists, the elation falling from his face as the annoyance twists at his brows.

“I figured you wanted to try something new after not even touching the tart I fed you yesterday.” you raise an eyebrow. He may irritate you, but you haven't ever done more than turn down his advances and do your job. Perhaps it is your own restlessness of the situation you have put yourself in, the exhaustion from your late night, or the fact that he has spent the better part of the last 10 minutes acting like a spoiled child, but you can't seem to find it in you to placate his feelings at the moment. You watch as his jaw tightens, his eyes narrowing for a moment in thought. 

That would be a fair assessment for any other person, he deems. But you should know better.

And to be fair, you do. But you can't find it in you to care. 

“My normal,” he grouches, setting the coins on the counter top this time. The piles leave his hand, only half of them stacking into the nice piles he normally leaves while the rest skitter across the glass top. “Please.” he adds almost as an afterthought as he turns to settle into his seat next to the window. 

Without much more thought, you move to fill his order – a cup of coffee and a strawberry tartlet. 

The movements are almost routine, fluid in a way that is born out of years of repeated motion and muscle memory. Like every other day, you can feel his eyes on you, tracing your every move. Swallowing your urge to wretch, like you do every time, you turn with a small smile, moving to his side, placing his order before him. 

“Here you go,” you state, immediately moving to turn and walk away. Instead, like many times before, his fingers wrap around your wrist, keeping you from leaving his side. 

“When are you going to stop playing hard to get?” his earlier irritation bleeds through, though much more pronounced. The sting of being ignored and your general lack of excitement to see him finally coming to a head in his mind. When you move to pull your hand from his hold, his fingers tighten painfully, earning a small yelp. The noise startles him enough that his grip loosens just enough for you to snatch it from his hold, cradling it to your chest. 

“That hurt,” you hiss, rubbing the tender muscles there. The noise, unfortunately, caught the attention of the blond in the kitchen because he is coming out of the doors, concerned words dying on his lips, as Jeff is starting in on his response. 

“It's your own fault,” he snarls, reaching for you again. “If you'd just stop with your games, I would have already had you in my bed.” This time, his hand is knocked away as Sanji wedges himself between the two of you. 

“That is no way to talk to a lady,” the taller man growls, the timbre reverberating in his chest as he simultaneously presses closer to Jeff and gently pushes you further behind him, the heat of his glare making you shudder. Jeff is halfway to his feet when he recognizes the man before him, though sanji doesn't seem to care about that fact at the moment. If looks could kill, Jeff would have been obliterated several times over, seared into the earth with nothing more than ash left to be whisked away by the wind accompanied by the memory of his existence.

“I refuse to take advice from a pirate,” he spits the word, tone dripping with poison. “This matter doesn't concern you.” 

“Not a pirate,” you grouse, trying in your own stupor to keep up the charade. 

“You made it my business when you hurt her,” Sanji’s voice is steady, the chill of his words seeming to lower the temperature of the building, making you shiver. Nose to nose, neither man seems to want to back down. And you are quite certain of who would win, given it became physical. 

“Rudy,” you rasp, tugging at his arm lightly. “He isn't worth it.” you can already feel the emotions bubbling up. The pain in your wrist is little more than a dull throb, but you find it doesn't bother you nearly as much as the thought of the man in front of you getting hurt, or worse, killed, because of the trust fund man-baby before him. 

He allows you to tug him back, his eyes never straying from Jeff’s as he steps back enough to allow the man passage towards the door. Jeff snorts a laugh, lips tugging up in a mocking smirk. 

“Listening to a woman,” he huffs, shaking his head. “How pathetic.”

“Not nearly as pathetic as being unable to take the word no the first time,” Sanji bites back, lips curling into a smile, though it reads much more as a warning. His snarl hardens the gesture far too much for it to be anything but a threat. “At least I don't need to lay hands on a woman to prove I'm a man.” 

Slowly, then all at once. 

You almost don't see the way Jeff’s arm raises, his fist making contact with Sanji’s chin, a snarl on his lips. Automatically, you swing between them, a hand coming to rest on each of their chests in a weak attempt to separate them. Sanji does nothing to push past you, but Jeff tries to lunge forward again. His weight agitates your injured wrist, a resounding yelp tearing through the otherwise silent space. Without warning, you are moved. Sanji’s arm wraps around your shoulders as he brings you securely into his side. 

Before Jeff is able to make a move again, Sanji growls, kicking his body away from you. 

“Get out,” even Jeff is able to read the warning in his words, the unspoken promise lying just underneath, as his body crashes to the floor. He skitters through the door, not bothering to look back. Sanji doesn't move for several moments after the glass stops shaking from the force of the way Jeff had slammed it in his haste. It Isn't until you move to pull away from him that he stops glaring at the door, his arm tightening slightly over your shoulders for a moment before he relaxes enough for you to take a step back. 

When you move to reach for his face, the angry mark already beginning to blister purple and blue, he takes your hand gently with a shake of his head. 

“I am fine.” he insists, gently tugging your injured wrist into his hand. He cringes when you whimper at his tug, immediately apologizing. His fingers are gentle as he inspects it. “It isn't broken.” he states quietly, thumb rubbing soothing circles just below the blooming bruises of your own. 

“That’s something, I suppose,” you sigh, bringing your wrist to your chest again, cradling it there. He nods with a frown, gently ushering you into the seat as he busies himself with going to find the first aid kit he saw in the kitchen earlier that morning. You had barely enough time to fully process that he was gone before he was back, kneeling before you. Flipping the lid open, he rummages around until he finds some wrap he deems sturdy enough. 

“May I?” 

You don't hesitate to rest your wrist in his hands, watching quietly as he wraps it slowly. He is careful to keep it from being too tight, but tight enough to give the support you need. It's silent for several moments before he speaks up again. 

“How long has he been bothering you?” sighing heavily, you lean back in the seat, twisting your arm to inspect his handy work. It's clean, precise, and obviously well practiced. You don't look at him as you trace over the bandages, barely able to even feel the pressure of your fingertips through the wrap. 

“Years,” you admit. “Though, this is the first time he has gotten so physical.” 

He is silent as you sit there, allowing the moment to swallow you whole. You had never broached the subject with anyone, not even your father. Deep down, you knew it wasn't just Jeff’s forward tendencies or childish ways that made you uncomfortable. Sure, they didn't help, but they weren't the reason for placating the man's feelings for all this time. 

There was always a threat, a quiet red flag waving in the distance in the back of your mind when you were alone with him. 

Sanji doesn't say anything, he doesn't push where he already knows the answer. Sighing, he offers you a smile, soft and kind – heavy with understanding. And you hate it. 

“Perhaps you can help me understand what I did wrong with that pastry now?” he offers, standing slowly, offering you the hand that isn't holding the first aid kit. He is offering you a distraction, a way out of the spiraling thoughts weighing on you. Sighing, you nod.

“Okay.”

================

The rest of the day is calm, if not slightly awkward. Customer after customer filing in, seeing both of your states and immediately trying to figure out what happened and who would do such a thing. 

Some routine customers, patrons who live on the island, many are pirates who Sanji is heavily debating on if he should feed them Jeff’s name to let them deal with him. You are beloved, more so than you seem to realize as you just file around with a smile.

“Who did it?” one pirate asks, gruff and glowering as his eyes narrow on your wrist. As if sensing the topic, your head whips around, eyes zeroing in on Sanji with a slight pinch to them – a quiet warning that neither man misses. The pirate snorts, taking the neatly wrapped package from Sanji sending the blond man a motion. 

Later. 

Because of your wrist, Sanji has taken to doing all of the wrapping. And the lifting. And the stirring. 

At one point, you find yourself sitting and pouting at the counter like a dejected child. Your regulars chuckle at your antics, watching and admiring how well Sanji seems to have picked up the slack, swirling around you like a one man band.

He's doing the cooking, cleaning, baking – with your careful instruction – and often tending to the customers while you sit and watch. You hate how flawlessly he takes over, turning the quiet, calm atmosphere into something much more lively and brilliant. A change that many seem more than happy to lean into. His energy is quite infectious, despite the deep love for your gentle, quiet, care. 

One 

He counts to himself as he spins from one table to the other, placing a plate before the patrons with a grin and flourish as he spins away. 

Two

He sends a smile and a non-committal wink to the lovely older woman before him, earning a girlish giggle from her. The attention makes her feel the need to smooth her hair back, to check to make sure her appearance is in order. He and her husband chuckle as he sends the man a nod ��� a silent gesture that he means no harm. The older man just grins. 

“Blushing, honey?” The comment deepens her flush, earning a whack and a jovial laugh from the three of them. 

Three 

He finds himself nearly spinning himself into the wall to keep from toppling on top of the over exuberant body that flings through your door. Laughter echoes around you from the various tables as Sanji sputters to a stop with a confused pinch of his brows, and Peter finally finds himself settled before you with a grin. Laughing along with them, you put your hands out to steady the small body. 

“Peter!” you laugh, allowing the boy to fall into your arms happily. “You’re early for lunch” you coo. He tries his best to look sheepish, though it falls short. You don't catch how Sanji softens at your exchange with the small boy, already on your feet to gather the things you had been working on all morning. 

It had been the one thing you had been absolutely insistent on that you be the one to work on. 

Peter stands there politely, his arms pinned firmly behind his back, though the stance does little to distract from the way his body seems to vibrate from its need for movement. Smiling to himself, Sanji watches him try so hard not to move – to be good. He was always rewarded when he was good. Shifting before the counter, Sanji starts to help pack the items you bring to the front, humming happily. 

Peter is silent as he watches you both work together, a fact that you nearly comment on until he opens his mouth. His eyes flit between sanji and yourself before he speaks, a frown on his face, as if he is concentrating too hard.

“Are you her husband?” The question startles you both, and earns sharp laughter from the older couples lingering at the tables. Both of you are gapping at him, trying to find your answers to such a simple question.

“No, He’s-” you begin.

“I’m not-” Sanji starts, both of you fumbling over the quick denials. Peter doesn't concern himself with your obviously flustered states, eyes zeroing in on your wrist and Sanji’s jaw. 

“Who hurt you?” he asks bluntly. “Do I need to put a wanted poster back up?” The comment earns a harsh snort from Sanji, who in reality would love to make sure a poster for the overly confident, and abusive, merchant. But you won't let him, for whatever reason. He watches you retrieve a tartlet that you had set aside earlier, choosing to ignore Peter’s insistent gaze and his very blunt line of questioning. 

“Here.” you grumble, shoving the sweet thing into his hands. 

Almost immediately, he seems to drop the line of questioning, eager to shove his reward in his mouth, strawberry filling being smeared against his cheek. Laughing softly, you reach up to swipe the mess from his cheek, wiping it on your apron. 

“Messy boy,” you hum sweetly, earning a blinding smile from Peter, and unbeknownst to you, Sanji. “Come now,” you state, clapping your hands to your thighs to gather his attention again when it drifts to the pirate standing beside the counter. “I am sure your mother is hungry, as well.” Peter just grins, nodding quickly. 

“She loves your food.” he agrees, lifting his hand to present some berry to you. The same berry he has been trying to bully into your hands everyday for the last year, judging by the familiar tears. Shaking your head, you curl his fingers back around the money, ruffling his hair with love. 

“No,” you state simply, handing him the bag. He pouts a bit, shoving it back in his pocket.

“Tomorrow,” he huffs. You laugh, ignoring the pointed looks from those around you. Repeat customers know better, their eyes downcast though they do nothing to hide their smiles. Newer groups do little to hide their curious gazes. 

“We will see, little one. Now, off you go.” he just nods, taking off out of the door, though more carefully as to keep from spilling any of the food. In silence, you watch him go, smiling as he disappears into his mother’s shop. 

“You feed them,” Sanji comments softly after a moment. Blinking, you shrug, turning to take the remainder of what couldnt fit in the pack back to the kitchen. Sanji glances around, ensuring that everyone is cared for. No one seems to want to rock the gentle bubble created. 

They loved your gentle loving care. 

Without thought, he follows you into the kitchen, your voice barely reaching his ears as you busy yourself with tidying up. 

“Sometimes,” you agree. He watches you, Peter’s last comment echoing in his mind. 

Tomorrow.

“Daily,” he corrects you, his tone gentle. You pause, nose twitching, eyes narrowing – immediately on the defensive. 

“Listen,” you grouch, turning to glare at him, your ire catching him off guard. His hands lift quickly, hoping to show you that he means no harm, but you continue ranting though your irritation seems to fade. “If you're going to lecture me about business practices, making money or anything else – save it.” you sigh. 

“I didn't intend to do any such thing,” he assures you slowly, moving to take the knife from your hand, setting it back in the sink. You turn to face him more, arms crossed as you lean back against the counter. He doesn't force himself any closer, in fact, he backs off some, resting his hips to the other counter across from you. 

“What is your point, then, Rudy?” he snorts, his smile easing some of the tension in your shoulders. 

“How long?” he asks after a moment. You pause. 

“A year,” you sigh. “Maybe longer, at this point. I'm not sure.” he just nods. You expect many things, many questions. Why? What's the point? Why not make more money? Sell it at a discount. Poor business strategy. 

You weren't expecting the softness in his eyes, nor the gentleness of his touch when his hands settle on your shoulders, a quiet intensity burning in his eyes as he bends to maintain eye contact as he speaks. 

“What you're doing for them,” he starts slowly, as if trying to find the right words to convey how he feels. He struggles to find the words he wants –  his large vocabulary, the flowery words he peppers into every conversation, the seemingly endless stream of compliments. They all seem too small, too insignificant for how he's feeling, so he settles on, “it matters.” The sincerity behind the words startles you. 

Swallowing the emotion building in your chest, you force a smile, hand moving to rest over his as your head thumps to rest against his chest. You find yourself unable to take staring into the depths of his eyes any longer. The emotions swimming there crashing like a storm at sea, washing over you with their intensity. 

“It doesn't feel like it's enough,” you whisper, words thick as you hold back your tears, clutching at his shirt, an anchor in your storm. His arms shift from your shoulders to wind around your waist, tugging you deeper into his warmth, his chin coming to rest on top of your head. 

“I assure you,” he murmurs, flashes of Zeff and that blasted rock flickering behind his eyelids, a distant memory fading to various shades of gray where it had once been so vibrant. The only thing still flickering in color is Zeff before him, like a scene from an old movie. “It's everything.” 

==========

tag list: @fanaticsnail @sordidmusings @gingernut1314 @stray-kaz @short-honey-badger @ren-ni @rustypotatospork @@katiemrty @team--edward @gothgirl13 @terarria-sunflower

#vinsmoke sanji #one piece #black leg sanji #sanji x reader #sanji #one piece sanji #sanji x you #vinsmoke sanji x reader #sanji vinsmoke #blackleg sanji

[harrysfolklore]

another year

a/n: hi guys happy new year ! this blurb is inspired by the songs “another year” by finneas and “new year’s day” by taylor ! i really hope you like it <3

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Glitter covered the floor as upbeat music played all over the rooftop you and Harry were currently in, a handful of close friends and family gathered to say goodbye to 2022 and celebrate the upcoming new year.

You had a lot to be grateful for as you took in the last moments of 2022. It was the year that made you realize that love is not something that knocks on your door, it just barges in, and as you reminisced about all the moments you spent with Harry this year, including your first 'I love you', first anniversary and first holidays together, you grew emotional over reading the last page of a wonderful chapter of your life.

However, you were excited for the new year that was about to start, knowing that it'll be filled with moments next to the love of your life. From a stranger's eyes, it would seem like yours and Harry's relationship took off faster than an airplane, but the way you could draw each other with your eyes closed proved that what you had was strong.

Your train of thought was interrupted by two strong arms wrapping around you and a familiar scent that you knew all too well, belonging to the man that made the last 365 days worth it.

"I was looking everywhere for you, thought you'd ran off to find another bloke to kiss when the clock strikes 12." Harry said as he leaned his cheek into yours, making you tilt your head and place a kiss on his jaw.

"I thought about it, but none of the blokes around the area have a bank account as fat as yours." you joked for a moment, feeling his chest vibrate against your back as he let out a small chuckle.

"So that's all you want me for, the couple of dollars I have on my bank account?" he joked back, putting an offended tone on his voice to go with his act.

"That and your fantastic arse." you made him chuckle again and place a couple of sloppy kisses to your check before falling into a comfortable silence for a bit.

You were in a less crowded area of the rooftop your friends rented for the celebration and the loud music that played on the dance floor was just background noise for you, and as you stood wrapped up in your love's arms, feeling his chest rise and fall with every breath he took, your only wish for 2023 was to spend every minute with him.

"What's on your mind?" Harry said after spending a couple of more minutes in silence.

"You know, just thinking about how believing that Jesus Christ was born to save us it's an awful lot of pressure for a baby and that's why New Year's is the superior holiday." you shrugged after speaking, making Harry let out a laugh once again.

"You're mental," he began, "Are you drunk already?"

"Nope, I've been having mocktails all night, I'm not in the mood to get hammered." you said as you turned around to have a proper look at him for the first time since he approached you.

He looked absolutely dreamy, cream colored trousers and black button up shirt adorning his body, along with his sparkling green eyes and red tinted lips from the glass of wine he had a few moments prior.

"That's good, saw NyOh barefoot in the lobby with her heels in her purse, she's hammered already and it's not even midnight" it was your turn to let out a small chuckle at the your friend and her way to celebrate the new year.

"Any resolutions for the new year, baby?" Harry spoke again, running his hands through your arms as a way to warm you up a bit, the chilly air kicking in and making goosebumps appear on your skin.

"I don't really believe a resolution's gonna change me," you began, "But I would love to be a bit more open to the though of failing, you know? I just want to be a little less of a perfectionist and let things be a bit messy if they have to be." you shrugged and a smile appeared on Harry's face, he felt proud of your statement.

"What about you, lovie?" you let him pull you into his chest, wrapping your arms around his waist and feeling his strong ones take over your shoulders.

"Honestly, to have the gorgeous girl around my arms next to me for another 365 days." his statement made your heart melt, your wish was the same as his.

"You're such a sap, you know?" you threw your head back to look at his eyes, the sparkle on them still present.

"And I love you more and more each day, you know?" and without further notice and before you could reply, he crashed his lips to yours, making you savor the aftertaste of wine from his lips, he moved his arms from your shoulders to grab your face with both of his hands, deepening the kiss.

You pulled away after a few more seconds to speak, "Easy there, tiger. You can't shag me before midnight." he rolled his eyes with affection for a second, placing a final peck to your lips.

"I can shag you whenever I please, thank you very much." It was your turn to roll your eyes and lay your head on his chest again, listening to his heartbeats softly and feeling his hand caress your hair.

"You know, you take the piss at me for being a sap, but right now I can't find poetic ways to say that I hope this lasts another year" he spoke again, letting his words linger in the air and making your heart melt once again.

"I have no clue of where I'll be next year, but I want to be next to you for as long as you'll have me, lovie." you told him withe the softest voice you had, allowing yourself to be vulnerable with him.

"Who's the sap now, huh? Aren't you just a softie, baby?" he teased you for a minute, kissing the side of your face obnoxiously and tickling your sides a bit.

"Let's gather with the rest, It's time for the countdown." you ignored his remark and grabbed his hand to drag him to where everyone was getting together to count down the seconds before 2023.

Placing yourselves next to Mitch and Sarah, Harry stood behind you with his hands on your shoulders, his tall figure towering over you.

"10..9..8.." Jeff, the host of the night, made everyone chant along with him, excited grin's on everyone's faces as they got eager for the clock to hit midnight.

"5...4...3...2...1! Happy New Year!" everyone around the room erupted in cheers and celebratory claps, Jeff even popping open a bottle of champagne.

Harry's hands on your hips made you turn around to crash your lips into his, and in that moment you knew you wanted to start all of your years this way.

"So, another year?" He breathed out, pressing his forehead against yours and his hands not leaving your face.

"Another year." you promised, and with that your lips were against each other again.

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[annaphoenix1994]

First Christmas

Masterlist - Part 2 Here

Simon conquers his first real Christmas and gets a gift of his own.

"Merry Christmas, baby."

Tags: Pure fluff/Soft Simon/Domestic Simon/Slight angst

Additional Note: Simon gets a unique surprise when he sees an old friend. "Looks like you got yourself a win, yeah L.t.?"

Throughout the years, Simon dreaded the holiday season and hoped he could at least stay in active status as he didn't have a family to return home to. To him, Christmas was just another day with a dinner that the Captain would usually plan, Price being the one who did so on his unit. But unlike Simon, Price had a family of his own to go home to for the holidays as well as Soap.

On top of everything else, this would trigger his depressive attitude all over again, leaving him to wander alone in his thoughts, wishing he had what everyone else in his unit did. A family.

That was the longest tour of his life. Christmas really hit him hard that year and he spent the holiday being on guard atop a cliff that hugged their headquarters.

Roughly a few years later, Simon hadn't had to pick up the mask for combat since being home, surprised that he didn't want to go back after adjusting to a healthy relationship. After talking to his brother-in-arms, Soap, he didn't feel as guilty when Soap didn't want to go back to the field either. The men still called each other by their nicknames and made time to reconnect while bringing along their partners for quality time together as they enjoyed their early retirement.

Simon sat in his at-home office, looking at the medals and certificates that you had framed nicely for him to be a reminder of his honorable duties. He fidgeted with the balaclava that had a bruised and tattered skull print on the front of it. The pad of his thumb traced over it as he knew he wore it a lot while deployed, but vowed to never have to put it on again unless it called for war.

His attention darted towards the closed door, his gaze breaking from the photos of him and his comrades in uniform, posing in front of the helicopter that carried them to many destinations, one with the K-9 that was on their unit, Kyle, they called him as the Marines on his unit at the time compared the K-9 soldier's bravery and heroism the same that reminded them of Chris Kyle - the American Sniper, and one of him, Soap, and Alejandro. Christ, he was such a cool guy.

The door opened slowly after a soft knock. He admired how you respected his office as it was a sacred place. You were ignorant of how he spent his time overseas, nor did you question him about it, but you were always there for him whenever he needed to. "Hey," You smiled at him, still in your pajamas.

He was too, sort of... He didn't have a designated set of pajamas, but he figured a black t-shirt, sweatpants, and thick socks did the job just fine.

As for you, however, you loved the festive prints that were put on the fleece bottoms as the four seasons brought out a happiness that Simon loved to see. He wished he had as much light in his eyes as you did.

He looked at you with a heavy gaze, wondering how the fuck he got so lucky, but he forced the negative thought from his mind as he constantly feared he would lose you.

You picked up on that gaze and tilted your head in concern, "You alright?"

He nodded, watching you walk into the office and close to the desk, looking down briefly at the balaclava that he had been fidgeting with, "I'm going to start on the turkey," You said to him, referring to the Christmas dinner you had planned. He was eager to see your family again as your father was the complete opposite of his own - he was a true family man - something Simon admired to be. "You want to come with me?"

"I'll be there in a few," He replied, his sharp eyes never leaving your features. "Just thinking."

"I understand. I'll be here if you need me." You nodded, presenting that comforting smile that he loved so much coming closer to him, feeling your warm lips press against his forehead.

After a few minutes, what really ended up to be twenty, Simon gathered the motivation to join you in the kitchen, stopping briefly to eavesdrop as he heard you on the phone with someone.

"Around seven is fine - sure, absolutely! He'll be astonished! - Okay, just text me when you're near!"

He watched as you set your phone on the counter before continuing to mix ingredients in a mixing bowl, unaware of his presence. He waited until your hands were off of the bowl before snaking his arms around you, knowing you were likely to jump every time he managed to sneak on you and he wasn't in the mood to have to help clean up a mess of flour and eggs off the floor.

Surprisingly, you didn't jump clean out of your skin this time. Instead, you just gasped at the sudden warmth of his torso against your back and his chin against your neck before placing a delicate kiss there. "Coming to help me bake cookies?" You smiled, leaning your head back on his shoulder.

"I thought you were cooking the turkey."

"Multitasking, babe, it's what we women do so well."

"That and running your mouth." He poked, watching you gasp.

"I guess you're right... for once."

"I know I'm always right, sweetheart," He chuckled, kissing your neck again before making his way to the wine cabinet, getting himself a glass, but offering you one first. "Want one?"

"No, thank you. I'll save it for later." You nodded.

---

Evening had fallen and the small gathering at the house was going according to plan, except for one thing. You began to grow nervous as Soap was supposed to be there by now and judging by the lack of texts, he hadn't shown any sign of being near. You forced yourself to hold your composure as you didn't want to give away the surprise, but you couldn't help but worry. Glancing at Simon, he sat at the dinner table with your father as they were all patiently waiting for the rest of the food to be ready. You, your aunt, and your sister were helping you prepare the food, always insisting for the men to banter on about their days. And the fact that they would always try to sneak a piece of hot food before it was even time to eat. Especially the deviled eggs -- you had to physically hide them every year.

And make two platters of them -- your father, uncle, and Simon didn't give them any mercy.

"I'll be right back." You told your sister as you exited the kitchen, trying not to look in a rush as you pat Simon's shoulder on your way past him, a comforting gesture you had always done for him. You made sure that Simon wasn't watching you as you checked your phone, seeing a relieving text from Soap that had come through not even a minute prior:

Thank God, you thought as you walked towards the front door, making it look like you were changing into your slippers to keep any suspicion at bay. Thankfully, it worked.

Simon was hard to surprise, but you thanked your father for keeping him distracted.

You opened the door, smiling at Simon's brother-in-arms alongside his new wife. "Thank you so much for coming." You smiled, mumbling the words as you didn't want to ruin the surprise for Simon.

"Wouldn't miss this for the world, love," He nodded, greeting you with a warm hug. "He for-sure doesn't know I'm here, right?"

"Not yet, anyway. I was going to let you surprise him."

"Oh, I can surprise him." He smirked, his hand resting on the small of his wife's back as he guided her inside first. To your relief, the short hallway that led to the front door was enough to keep Soap in the shadows for a bit longer until it was time to surprise Simon. Truly, he didn't know what to say, but he knew he'd think of something.

He shrugged off his coat after helping his wife out of hers before shooting you a smug grin, nodding as if he were asking permission to make his presence known. You smiled as you let him take charge.

"Well, well, you really are quite the opposite." He said, referring to their last big battle together when he teased Simon about taking off his mask.

Simon turned around in his chair, truly stunned before standing to his feet, immediately stretching out his hand to grasp Soap's before the men embraced. "It's so good to see you, brother." Soap said, patting Simon's back.

"Where in the bloody hell have you been?" Simon asked in disbelief, stepping back to look him over, glad that he was still in one piece.

"Around," He shrugged. "I know we weren't in contact for a while, but I knew once she reached out to me, I had to come and visit and wouldn't miss it for the world."

Simon glanced at you with soft eyes.

"Well, I have a seat saved for you, sir." Simon said, repeating the same words Soap had said to him that night when he and Simon regrouped for a final agenda, although Simon was a bit hostile for the first half of it if he had to be honest.

Dinner wasn't quiet this time. All of the chairs were full, the food was hot, and the fireplace kept the house warm. It was nice to see Simon and Soap reunite, knowing he was comfortable around him as, aside from you, Soap had been alongside Simon the most, the men claiming their brotherhood with military status.

You were always one to get gifts for the ones you love, so it wasn't a surprise when you began handing a gift to Simon and your family, even Soap and his wife. It took a while for Simon to get used to gift-receiving, not knowing how to truly accept one due to lack of experience, but he was no stranger to giving gifts. In fact, he loved to shower you with them, going overboard sometimes as he sometimes felt he couldn't quite get it right when it came to showing how much he loved you.

For Soap and his new wife, you gifted them with a housewarming gift - well, multiple... you also went overboard when giving gifts. You just couldn't help it. Besides, it was a special occasion for Soap - he had just purchased a new house with his wife.

Amazon was your best friend when it came to buying multiple gifts.

You laughed as Soap and his wife opened the gift together, seeing that you had bought them a personalized cutting board (she loved to cook), a speaker that worked in the shower (Soap loved music and Simon always joked with him on base that he "should as well baptize himself" with the long showers he took), and an ornament for their Christmas tree that was a picture of them at their wedding in the middle - Simon being the best man as well as the men standing in attention, similar to how they stood in the photos in Simon's office.

"Thank you so much." Soap complimented you.

"You're welcome. I know you can make use out of it!"

"Definitely will."

Throughout the gift-giving ceremony, you were fulfilled as you loved the feeling of having family, hoping that Simon felt the same as you knew he had a rough childhood/early adulthood. You were glad Simon got along well with your father - the men even going on fishing trips every so often. Although you got each member of your family one gift, you had two for Simon - one of them being something he didn't know about, so you were going to save it for everyone to see, knowing he would love it.

His first gift was, of course, multiple items into one. You got him one of his favorite hoodies, his favorite cologne, and something new: an online pass for one of his favorite car video games that he and Soap had talked about at dinner - that conversation being planned too, ensuring that it was something of interest to Simon before you bought it. He wasn't a big gamer, but he liked to interact with a virtual world every now and then to take the edge off. And he loved racing cars. Now I definitely won't hear from him much anymore. He'll be too busy racing Soap, you thought jokingly.

He placed a thankful kiss to your temple, watching you as you opened your gift(s). When this man went overboard on showering you with gifts, he meant it. Inside the box was a gift card to your favorite coffee shop(...let's just say it was enough to keep you satisfied for a few days on your favorite iced coffee...), a pair of socks that had a cute print of your favorite animal on them, three books that you had always been wanting to read, but always forgot to order (he literally swiped your phone while you were sleeping and went through your Amazon cart), your favorite face scrub, and inside of a small velvet box was another diamond band to match against your engagement ring. To Simon, the bands he got you were to symbolize the years you have spent together. Having two bands total, he would want you to choose the band you wanted for when your wedding day came.

"Thank you so much, baby." You smiled, pressing a kiss to his lips as you immediately tried on the band, watching it fit snugly against your engagement ring.

"You're welcome, sweetheart."

"I have a surprise gift for you, by the way. It wouldn't have made sense to give it to you before everyone opened their gifts."

"You're making me nervous with that talk." He chuckled.

"Don't be nervous, you'll love it!"

You got up carefully, rushing towards your shared bedroom to retrieve the special gift you had been hiding from him for the past week from the closet. Walking back into the living room, he was still standing at the table, the wrapping paper from his gift box thrown away and his items sitting in the box, organized. Yep, the military never left him...

Simon began to feel suspicious as Soap and his wife approached the table as well, but those feelings subsided as it was only the four of you at the table. You smiled as you set the box on the table, wrapped in solid red wrapping paper. He looked down at it, his suspicion growing as he honestly thought it was a prank Soap had put together.

"It ain't gonna open itself!" Soap teased.

"The more you talk, the more resistance I feel on opening it."

Soap sighed.

"Don't be a wuss." He chuckled.

Simon shook his head, hiding the chuckle he wanted to let out as he was truly happy to be picking at Soap again. He missed it - taunting him and joking with him across their radios while on missions. It made the time go by faster.

Slowly, he opened the gift, seeing a white box underneath. It resembled a box that a cake would come in, but it was no cake. Using his pocketknife to cut the tape that held it shut, he then saw a mound of tissue paper under the lid. Now confused, he glanced at you briefly before slowly moving the tissue paper out of the way.

He was truly at a loss for words. His chest tightened, his heart thudded against his sternum, and his mind felt dizzy as if he were stunned.

It was an outfit for an infant with a positive pregnancy test on top of it and a copy of the ultrasound of the baby. A little blip.

You were only seven weeks and had found out on your recent check-in at your doctor. It was partially a planned pregnancy, but you nor Simon were in a rush but were prepared if it were to happen.

He was afraid to reach in and touch the items, afraid that they would disappear if he did. He couldn't believe it, but also couldn't find the motion to express what he was feeling. Happiness was an understatement and he hoped that you didn't think he wasn't happy with the gift, but you knew by seeing in his eyes that he was truly too stunned to speak. He then looked over at you, seeing the excitement in your eyes as he felt the time had slowed down around him. Everyone was looking his way now, making him feel like he was obligated to jump for joy, but he didn't move.

He looked back down at the items in the box, seeing your handwriting on a small card next to the test: 'I can't wait to meet you, daddy!'

That did it for him right then and there. He broke out of his few-second trance and approached you, "Are you serious?" He asked, pleading with his eyes that it was true. His hands were on your hips, closest to your abdomen as he was going to admire that bump of life that grew inside of you.

You nodded at his question, wrapping your arms around his neck as he carefully pulled you closer to him, leaving a couple-inch gap between you two, afraid that he would squish your belly. You were so delicate to him now that he was responsible for.

He was going to be the man he admired - your father.

He closed his eyes as he imagined it was just you and him in the room, ignoring everyone's curious gaze and congratulations as he pressed his face against your neck, keeping himself there before you felt his left arm come up behind your neck and to his face, seeming like he was pinching the bridge of his nose. He was holding back tears.

"Well, all-be," Soap smiled as he approached him from the side, patting his shoulder. "Looks like you've got yourself a win, yeah L.t.?"

#simon riley #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #ghost mw2 #simonghostriley #simon riley fluff #call of duty modern warfare 2 #call of duty #simon riley fic #simon riley drabble

[lis-likes-fics]

Rhyme and Reason

Pairings: Corinthian x dream!Reader Word Count: 8.7k words Prompt: Corruption Kink Warnings: NSFW, explicit descriptions of death/murder, torture, descriptions of blood, smut, fingering, oral (f!receiving), slight hair pulling, multiple orgasms, p in v, unprotected sex, corruption kink, creampie, fucking in front of a dead body... A/N: There are only two left, guys! I might be able to do this! This took a minute to write cause ADHD is a bitch. But I finished and I hope you like it! Thank you and Happy Holidays!

The little party you find yourself in is just that, little. It takes place in a bar rented out by the set of hosts, a get together with maybe a little over twenty party-goers.

It took so long to find him.

When your lord Morpheus disappeared some fifty years ago, you and the rest of the Dreaming were left…confused. You thought that maybe it was a test? He wanted to see how loyal his creations really were to him, their king. Would they revolt the moment he no longer gave orders?

But, after the first two decades, you concluded that he was just…gone. And you, among many dreams, left as well.

You spent the next twenty years in the Waking world, searching the world aimlessly for something to inspire you.

When Dream still resided in his realm, you would sing for him. He dreamed up a dream of music and song and you became. He loved your songs, he was inspired by the music you made.

When you sat in Fiddler’s Green, you would sing about the butterflies fluttering through the breeze or the bees in their honeycombs. When you sat by the sandy beach, you would sing about the lap of the tides against the mouth of the sea. When you looked up at the skies, you would sing about the sun and moon, how they loved each other so.

On some nights where you danced in the heads of your mortal lords, he would be there, in the seat in the back, listening to you soothe the minds of frightened children or ease the thoughts of anguished men.

Morpheus loved your sweet music, your heavenly song. You reminded him of someone, someone he loved very much.

Much he knew nothing of how you longed for more than your kindly poetry and prose. You loved the gift he bestowed upon you, but you grew weary of your melodies of dancing birds and sugar cane.

He knew nothing of the way you gazed at the dark and twisted dreams that walked his realm, the way they strut, the way they smirk, the way they spin their fables and tricks and white lies. You wished you could sing in deviant keys, tales of wicked fantasies and depraved beasts.

How you longed for the voice of a siren, rather than the whistle of a songbird.

So you looked for inspiration. And you found it.

The humans were a new kind of nightmare. Yes, they had so much love and light and whatnot, but the depravity. The debauchery and sin you found among their kind, it was more than you could have dreamed of.

You didn't just want to sing their songs, you wanted to create them. You wanted to write your verses as they wrote theirs. You wanted to sing your tales and inspire the rest in the same way your sweet lyrics did.

But you didn't know how. You searched all over for someone to teach you, to show you how to take their sullied natures and adopt them into your own poesy.

Soon you realized that no man could teach you how to sing. You'd almost given up your pursuits of fulfillment until you heard of him; a dream you'd never met but had heard of so many times before in the sleeping realm, a nightmare so infamous and so curiously revered by your former lord. You'd heard it through the mouths of chattering men, then read it in the paper. A “man” whose deeds were so reminiscent of the devil, everyone had to know his name, to know who to protect themselves against.

The Corinthian.

He captured men and took their eyes. He made them see all the wonders of the world. And you wanted to sing them.

It took so long to find him.

You seduced and bribed and begged your way through every little turn in order to get to him. And now you're here with a drink in your hand and so many inspirations surrounding you in this little bar.

And he is beautiful.

It's things like him that inspire you to sing. He’s charming and tall and the sight of him, his dark glasses—which hold more truth than eyes could ever tell—frame his face as the golden rim adores his golden hair. You catch yourself staring too often, so enamored and enchanted by the symphony that he is.

But he'd noticed you too, in the moments where your eyes don't find his. Of course he had. He knows exactly who you are, the music of the Dreaming. He hears it in every little breath you take, the gentle lilt of your voice. You were spoken of with as much regard as he was, though in the more virtuous way rather than in the way of his own notoriety.

What an odd little creature. He'd heard so much about you, how sweet and gentle you were. How Dream would sit for hours and listen to you sing in the meadow. And here you were, surrounded by the darkest of creatures, unbothered but so curious.

How nice you would be to…play with for a while.

“Well, hello there.”

His voice seeps into your skin and has goosebumps rising along your body. You turn and look up at the Corinthian like he was a sight to behold. Your eyes are slightly widened with wonder, and you look like you'll get to your knees and begin praising him at any moment, as though he is some great saint.

“Oh,” you breathe, trying and failing to be subtle. “Hi.”

He leans his elbow on the bar, looking you up and down through the dark of his glasses. “What's your name, little thing?”

You scramble to organize your thoughts once more. He's scrambled them with just the sound of his voice. “Uhm,” you stutter. Shaking your head, you offer him your name.

He chuckles lightly, his charming smile curling over his lips as he shakes his head. “No, hah,” he mutters, “I meant your alias.” He turns a little as he motions to the people in the room, dark souls able to be free in the little space of this bar. “Everyone here has an alias. What's yours?”

“Mine?” You clear your throat. “Oh…” You hadn't thought about that. You rub your palm against your thigh, smoothing your dress over your legs nervously.

He thinks you're precious. He turns with a chuckle, looking around the room before gesturing with his head toward two men talking amongst themselves.

“You see him over there? On the right?” he asks. You nod, staring at the man as the Corinthian speaks. “That's the Extinguisher. He's a pyromaniac. He traps his victims in their own homes and covers them in gasoline. Burns it to the ground, starting with them.” The way he speaks is like music, and you get lost in it.

He stares at the wonder on your face, his lips twitching into a curious grin. “Him, there? He goes by the Boa Constrictor. Like the snake. He ties up his victims real nice and tight until their skin turns purple and numb. Then he…” he breathes a little laugh, “...ties a rope ‘round their necks and keeps it there…nice and tight, until they stop squirmin’.”

He expects you to pale, to see the fear light up in your little eyes. But you don't. You stare, hypnotized by his voice and his words.

“Wow,” you whisper. “What about her?”

He smiles wide, looking at the woman in question. “Oh, her?” He licks his bottom lip. “She comes in a pair, only the public doesn't know that. Actually, they think it's a man. She and her friend over there are known as the Tailor, but they call themselves the Seamstresses. You see, it's easier to be taken seriously as a man in this age, otherwise no one would bat an eye at their art.”

Your eyes twinkle with wonder. He doesn't think you realize it when you grab his arm, clutching it as you continue to listen, watching the two ladies talk. He leans nearer to you, speaking gently into your ear.

“They slice the limbs off their victims, nice and clean cuts, and stitch them back together after they've already bled out.” He tilts his head. “They're actually quite sweet.”

You sigh, almost like you're in a dream. “Woah.”

He turns his body back to you, and you realize your hand grasping him. You let him go, offering an apology through a small smile as you looked up at him. He watches it fade, the wonder returning as you take him in.

“If I had to guess who you were…” he says quietly, his voice a whisper as his eyes wander your face, “I'd say you were the Whisperer.”

You tilt your head, watching every little shift in his face as he speaks. He smirks, “Am I right?” You blink at him, moving to speak but unable to find the words. “The artist who sews the mouths of her victims shut so they can't speak,” he seems to lean in further, his voice getting softer and softer as your eyelids flutter. “Sings a little song to them as she…slits their throats wide open.”

You sigh, nearly folding under the weight of his gaze. You nod gently. “Y-yeah,” you rasp, clearing your throat. “Yes, that's me.”

He smiles wide, leaning back to release you from the spell. You let out a breath at the distance, seeming to come back to yourself. “I admire your work,” he says. “That job you did up in Malibu was just…beautiful.”

You don't know where that is, but apparently this Whisperer did. You nod, “Thanks. Thank you.”

“In fact,” the tips of his fingers brushed your hand, turning it to hold in his palm, “I would love a demonstration. Up close and personal.”

You bring your other hand to graze the side of his palm. “Would you mind giving me the honor of witnessing it firsthand?”

You swallow thickly, staring at him. Firsthand… “Uh, I don't have…thread on me.”

He shrugs. “Well, I'm sure the Seamstresses wouldn't mind lending their tools. If we ask nicely anyway.”

“Well–”

“Come on,” he chuckles. “Just…one little show?” He shows a finger, grinning his charming grin.

So pliant to his word, you give in. “Okay.”

The proud grin he displays is wide and triumphant. “Well,” he says, “thank you very much.”

~

The Corinthian opens your door as you step out of the car, looking out over the large building lit up from the inside and crawling with people. He offers his hand, which you take gratefully as your stomach turns, anxiety and anticipation sharp in your gut. He gives you another charming smile.

You both walk inside, taking in the nightclub still in full swing. It's a Friday night, so there are plenty of people here looking to let loose after a long work day.

There's a small band on stage playing upbeat jazz, a singer performing for an enthused crowd. You know this song, you know every song.

The Corinthian’s arm wraps around your waist, pulling you close to him as he seems to glare at the bodies mingling with one another. It's possessive, like he'll cut the eyes out of anyone who so much as glances the wrong way at you. You lean into him.

He leans down to your ear, his smile returning as he speaks gently. “Who here sparks your interest?” he asks. “Who fits the bill?”

You look up at him. “What do you mean?”

“A target.” He looks around the club, as though he's searching for someone who sparks his own interest. “Most artists have a pattern among their chosen…” he makes a gesture with his hand, trying to find the right word, “canvases.”

You like the way he speaks. It's poetic.

You lick your lips. “What's your pattern?”

“Oh, me?” He shrugs, looking over the crowd again. “I don't follow anything specific.” Tilting his head, he hums, “I suppose I do have a bit of male preference… but I'm not picky.”

“Ah,” you mutter.

“Well?” he wondered. “Anyone?”

You look around at all the people, dancing and sweating and talking. Eventually, your eyes land on a man. He's tall and lean, with black hair messy from dancing.

He reminds you of someone.

“Him.”

The Corinthian’s gaze finds the object of yours. A grin curls devilishly over his lips.

“Very nice.”

“So…” you look up at him, “What do I do?”

The urge to play with you is strong, like it's embedded in the tissue of his being. “You don't know?”

You nod quickly, trying to figure out what to say. You're supposed to be a professional.

“Well, uh, yeah, of course I know,” you clear your throat. “B-But what do you think I should do?”

He chuckles, turning you to face him as his hands cup your waist. He leans in, moving slowly as his lips brush your ear. He lowers his voice to a deep hum. “I always find that seduction works wonders.”

You nod gently as he pulls aways. His black shades stare into your eyes, dark and compelling. “Alright.”

He chuckles, jutting his chin out toward the man, your canvas. “Go on,” he bids. “Take him to the hotel a few blocks down. I'll be waiting for you there.”

Again, you nod. He knows best.

“Okay.”

He grazes his knuckles along your cheek, granting you one last grin before turning and leaving you to your own devices. You would be fine.

You turn toward the dark-haired man, taking in a deep breath before setting a small smile upon your lips. You begin walking over to him, sinking into the music to blend in with the crowd. Even as your hips sway and your face shifts into something more sultry, your hands tremble as the anxiety slips into your skin.

Stepping up behind him, you get his attention by placing a palm on his slim waist. He glances down at your hand and follows it up your wrist, your arm, your shoulder, up to your pretty face as his own smile spreads across his pink lips. “Hello,” you smile gently, leaning forward just enough to tilt your head back to look up at him.

He turns, enjoying the way your hands shift to stay at his sides, your thumbs feeling over the fabric of his shirt. He’s handsome, easily falling victim to your own charm as he lets you seduce him. His smile widens, though he doesn’t look predatory, like a lot of men you’ve come across among the years. He’s charming.

“Well, hello there.” He looks you up and down, and you take in the sight of his pale blue eyes as he does.

You just keep smiling, and it’s all you have to do for him to fall further and further for your charm. “Hi,” you lick your bottom lip.

Considerate of you, he places his hand on your shoulder and brushes it down your arm slowly until he slips it into your hand, holding one of them and setting his other hand onto your own waist. Yours eased to his shoulder, and soon you were holding one another as you danced on a slow tempo to the quick rhythmed music.

“How's a pretty girl like you doing on a night like this, hm?” he wonders, his voice warm and just as smiling as his lips.

You shrug a shoulder as though you're shy. “I'm doing alright,” you chuckle lightly, breathily. “Are you having fun?”

He hums. “Now that you're here? So much fun.” He watched you appreciatively, biting his lower lip and sighing. “You lookin’ to play with little ole me?”

You tilt your head gently. “Do you like to play?”

“Doll,” he chuckles, “I love to play.”

You giggle softly, and you watch him seem to almost melt at the sound of it. “You wanna play with me?” you lean in a little closer.

“Do I?”

You stand on your tiptoes so your lips brush his ear as you whisper, your words light and airy. “Why don't we go somewhere more private so we can…play?”

He sighs longingly. “Oh, I love the sound of that.”

You smile wide, pulling away from him as you keep your hands firmly clasped. “Well, come on then,” you say as you pull him gently toward the door. He walks with you, joining your side and exiting the club with you on his arm.

As you're walking out, his lead taking you in the direction of his car, you find yourself humming the song that had been playing inside under your breath. His gaze turns to you and he finds himself even further under your enchantment.

What a wonder you are… An angel from heaven.

He helps you into his car, shutting your door and rounding to the other side as he takes his seat as the driver. “So where are we going?” he asks, looking at you with anticipation seeping through every pore.

You smile, and he swears you speak like a melody as you say, “I've got a room down at the hotel.” You bring a hand to your face as you rest your fingers just under your chin. “We shouldn't be interrupted there.”

He grins. “Whatever you say, doll.”

~

He's been so sweet, much closer on the sweeter side of the men you've met since you first came to the mortal plane. Graham, he said his name was.

You nearly felt bad about what was going to happen to Graham…but you wouldn't be putting him to waste. No, you would be honoring him. He would inspire your songs, he would give life to them. That was an honor you felt befit him, an honor he deserved.

The hotel comes into view, and your stomach flips. Graham parks, opens your door like a gentleman, and then offers his hand as the both of you enter the building. You glance around as you walk, wondering what you're supposed to do now. He just said to meet him here…

You walk, tucked into his side as you try not to aimlessly wander. He stays close to you, almost dutifully, and you don't notice the way he gazes at your face.

You look up at him, an innocent—almost naïve—glow to your eyes that makes his smile grow. “You're beautiful, you know that?”

You hum lightly, smiling gently. Your gaze wanders from his and falls upon a conference room door, the window on the door reflecting something off its surface.

Your eyes catch on the silhouette of such a familiar man. You walk over, pulling Graham with you as you push the door open.

“Thought we were going up to your room, doll?” he wonders. You pull him into the dark conference room, glancing around for your new mentor and finding nothing but shadows.

You turn back to Graham, thinking on your feet as you give him a smile. “I…just couldn't wait that long,” you chuckle lightly. You step forward, your hands on his chest.

He smiles, pushing the door closed behind him with his foot and turning the lock as he looks down at you with a smile. “Sounds good to me,” he grins.

He holds your body close, wrapping you up in his arms. Your smile falls as he leans in closer, and when his lips brush yours, you can't help but push him away with the gentle push of your fingertips.

He seems concerned as he takes you in, holding his hands up enough to show he isn't going to hurt you. “What's the matter?”

In the corner of your eyes, you catch a shadow. Your gaze lands on the Corinthian, hidden in the dark space behind Graham with a finger held up to his curling lips, and your breath hitches in a small gasp.

You watch him silently, watching as his hands gesture toward the both of you. He just nods, urging you on.

You look back at Graham, his eyes still just as concerned as before. You remember to smile, stepping back toward him as you slowly set your hands on his shoulders. “Nothing,” you whisper. You kiss him, and he takes a moment to allow you space before his hands fall to your waist again. His lips are soft, comforting.

Tilting your head, your eyes creak open to see the Corinthian again. He smiles reassuringly, lifting his hand to cover his eyes. After receiving your confused look, he just gives another encouraging gesture. You figure, he knows best.

Pulling away again, you keep your hands on his shoulders. Graham opens his eyes, watching you smile up at him. “Close your eyes?” you ask gently.

He chuckles, amused, “Why?”

You bat your lashes, a subtle but rapid blink that makes him pliant to you. “Trust me?” Your voice is gentle and small, a whisper he has nor reason to doubt.

He just sighs and laughs, shaking his head as he brings hand to cover his eyes, peeking at you teasingly before hiding behind his palm again. You look to the Corinthian for more instruction.

He raises his finger to tap his throat. You watch his other hand come up, balling into a tight fist. He punches his palm soundlessly. And you understand.

You place your gaze upon Graham once more. His pretty face, his messy black hair, his pink lips, his closed eyes hiding pale blue rings around his pupils. You clench your fist, feeling the tightness in your fingers, the strain of the skin over your knuckles.

You take in a deep bracing breath, and he's still waiting patiently for you. Patient, gentle, good.

And you strike him hard in his throat, your fist colliding with his Adam’s apple as his eyes bulge from his skull. He tries to gasp at the sudden impact, the sound barely coming out in a painful wheeze as he raises his hands to his throat.

He looks at you, his eyes wide with shock and confusion. His mouth is open wide as he gapes, trying so hard to speak, to breathe, to figure out why.

You hadn't even realized it when the Corinthian moved, his hands landing heavily over Graham’s shoulders as he wheezes and gasps, making the most dreadful sounds in an attempt to breathe.

“Hello, there,” he grins, Graham’s eyes finding him and bulging. When did he get there?

His gaping mouth tries to form a word, and the Corinthian tilts his head to hear it before chuckling lightly. “Don't try to speak. You'll find it hurts more.”

He pulls a chair from the large conference table and sits him roughly down onto it. Graham doesn't try to bolt, the door is locked and he isn't confident in his ability to get out of here with the Corinthian as your apparent partner. He tries to speak, to negotiate, but he can't get any sound past senseless croaks.

The Corinthian joins your side, wrapping an arm possessively around your waist as you stare at the man you'd doomed. Doomed. That's a nice word.

He opens up his jacket, reaching in an inside pocket as he pulls out the silver needle and red thread he'd procured from the Seamstresses.

“Now, beautiful,” he says, handing it over to you, “why don't you take this while I help you out a little?” You look at the tools he offers, blink a couple of times before picking it up.

His crooked finger brushes under your chin before he turns away toward your friend again. He rounds to another chair, which he pulls from its spot tucked at the table, a duffle bag you hadn't noticed before sitting in the seat. In the bag is rope, strong rope he uses to tie Graham to the chair as he kneels behind him.

You glance at the needle. “What do I do with it?”

He looks up at you as he wraps the rope around the back of the chair and his chest and ignores Graham’s struggles. He says it like it's obvious. “You'll sew his mouth shut.”

Graham struggles against the rope, but to no avail. The Corinthian makes a tight knot, looking at him with a warning in his tone. “I suggest you be nice and good for her or…” he smiles, his hands on his shoulders as his lips brush the shell of his ear, “I'll just have to intervene. And you don't want that.”

Graham goes completely still, sweating and crying now. The tears roll down his cheeks and he gives you a desperate look.

You realize your hands are shaking, like the first time you even stepped foot toward him.

“I…” you mutter, staring at the needle.

The Corinthian’s smile remains unchanged, encouraging. “Come on,” he says as he stands, walking over toward you once more. “Don't be shy.”

The anxiety curls in your stomach, shakes in your hands. You take a step back, turning to him timidly as you don't meet his eyes. “I'm… I'm not her,” you say, struggling to get the words out as the nerves eat away at you. “I lied… I'm not the Whisperer. I'm just…some dream… I'm just a dream.”

He laughs, and you watch him as the confusion sinks into the features of your face. Graham is out of both your minds as you stare at him.

“Well, I know that.” He chuckles, stepping into your space as he grabs your free hand, cradling it in his palm. “But you're not just any dream, are you? You're Aria. One of Morpheus’ special dreams, his little song.”

Irritation rises in your belly and you shake your head, stepping back and letting go of his hand. “I'm not Aria,” you bite. “Not anymore. I hate that name.”

He raises a brow. “Do you now?” His smirk is devilish. “Who are you then?”

You stare at him, offering the name you'd take thirty years ago when you left the Dreaming for the first time, your new name with its new rhythm and rhyme. The Corinthian repeats it back to you, tasting it on his tongue like honey.

You take your bottom lip between your teeth, another step taking you away from him. “But I'm not the Whisperer.”

He shrugs. “‘Course you're not. I made her up.” You watch him, surprise in every crevice of your face. He reaches out and takes your hands, pulling you close again as he watches you, the look I'm his eyes almost predatory as he lowers his voice for you to hear. His words seep into your skin.

“But you want to be, don't you?” He smiles, “I can see it in your eyes, you wanna be more than Dream's ‘little song’, don't ya?”

Graham watches, feeling his vocal chords easing in the slightest bit. He still can't speak, can't scream, can't get any sound out but a whisper so quiet, he still can't be heard.

“You want to be something not so sweet,” he continues. “You wanna sing something other than Kumbaya, holding hands with your neighbors and bein’ all nice and happy.”

Your lip twitches at the mention of that song, a campfire song that felt like a pinnacle of your distaste for the music you've been forced to sing. “I hate Kumbaya,” you mumble.

He chuckles. “Don't we all?” He brushes his knuckles along your cheekbone, smoothing down to rest underneath your chin. “You can be so much more than that. I know it. You can leave behind all that sweetness, and become like me. Remake yourself in your own image.”

He raises your hand, still cupping the needle and thread in your palm. “All you have to do…” he gently pushes your palm toward your body, separating each word as he does, “...is take the needle.”

He takes a step back, giving you space to think.

You look down at your palm, contemplating. This is it. This is your chance to become more than a little songbird. You could become better. You could fulfill your own hopes and dreams and become a better version of you.

Your fingers curl over your palm.

Your eyes turn on Graham, and fear flashes across his face. You take the first step toward him, then another, and he begins to squirm in his chair as you do. The Corinthian tuts, walking toward him as he places his hands on his shoulders to keep him down, still.

He smiles, a dark and wicked smile. “There you go,” he encourages. “Do it. Become more than that sweet little dream. Do what you want to do, not what you were made to.”

You take the string of thread and punch it between your thumb and forefinger, stilling your breath completely as your slightly shaky hands work to thread the needle. It takes a moment for you to get it through the eye, letting out a relieved sigh when you do.

Graham keeps squirming, despite the uselessness. You stand in front of him. “Take a seat,” the Corinthian says. “It'll be easier.”

You set your free hand on his shoulder, lowering yourself onto his lap as you straddle him. His mouth forms a word, the slightest whisper tearing painfully from his throat as it did. Please. Please. Please.

He casts a desperate, pleasing gaze upon you, his life in your hands—the hands of the beautiful siren who had forsaken him. You watch him with an unwavering gaze, the anxiety and anticipation curling your brows.

He is so good. So genuinely good. The kind of good that stares at your face and calls you beautiful. The kind that keeps calling you beautiful until you no longer have the capacity not to believe it. He's the kind of good that holds you when you're sad, wipes away your tears when you cry. The kind of good that makes you feel better about living in such a cruel world.

And you want to feel bad about taking his life away, about taking the rhythm of his heartbeat away.

But you can't, and you don't. And honestly, a rage and desperation flares within you as you stare at him. Because he is good. And that's just the problem, isn't it?

For so long, all of your songs have been so good. Songs about dancing birds and twinkling stars and buzzing bees. Songs about hope and love and care and whatever else. And you're sick of it.

You were only drawn to him because he's good.

You need something new, something a little fiercer than the blazing sun in the sky, something a little darker than the moonless night. You need inspiration.

And he could give it to you. The Corinthian would help.

You begin to move your hands toward his face, and Graham desperately tries to move away. You sigh, looking up at the Corinthian. He understands immediately.

Taking Graham’s face in his hands, he holds his head still and his jaw securely closed. He bears his teeth like a frightened animal, breathing quickly as whispers of protest strain in his crushed vocal chords.

You use one hand to hold his lips closed. The Corinthian nods along with you. “Just at the corner. Right there.” You slide your pinched fingers over to the left corner of his lips. “Very good. Now just…push it in…”

You position the needle, holding there for a long time as you internalize taking this step. All you have to do…is push it in.

The needle pierces his flesh, sinking into his skin as he screams silently, held still as a statue by the Corinthian, as though his strength is nothing to him.

The sharp end comes out on the other side of his bottom lip, and you pull it all the way through as the red thread becomes redder with the blood staining it. You pull until you have enough length, tying the end off with steadier hands.

“Very good,” the Corinthian praises. “See? You're a natural.”

He takes in his success, his great triumph. Dream's little song…nothing more now than the outlines of a nightmare waiting to be filled in with a little more color. He almost feels drunk off the sight of you, straddling this man as you continue to pierce him with your needle and sew his lips shut, tight, taking away the one thing you were made to do.

Sing.

Such a sweet little bird you are now, a corrupted and twisted little dream in the hands of a wicked nightmare.

He watches you thread the needle through his flesh as Graham continues to cry and try and try and try to scream, to have someone hear him, save him from the pain and torture. But you're all alone in here, locked inside this room with nothing but the night…

As you focus, you find yourself easing into the task. Pinching and piercing and pulling and repeating. You smile, calm as a melody comes to mind.

You hum it, lower and slower than the original speed. The Corinthian watches, in awe of you as you continue to work. He almost swears the rhythm of Graham’s silent breaths and cries begin to form to the rhythm of your song.

“Say ‘Night-ie night’ and kiss me,” you whisper, leaning forward to kiss the tip of Graham’s nose. “Just hold me tight and tell me you'll miss me.”

You poke the needle through the end of his lip, piercing the far right corner slowly, calmly. “While I'm alone and blue as can be…” You tie the end of the knot, singing a little slower as you do. “Dream a little dream of…me.”

You lean forward and cut the thread with your teeth, taking in the sight of your good work. The Corinthian lets Graham go, and he just sits there, still sobbing, his face wet with tears and blood and sweat.

“Look at that,” the Corinthian admires, laughing deep in his throat as he sets his hands on your shoulders and shakes his head. “Beautiful.”

You stare at him, taking in the sight before you. The Corinthian’s hands fall to your waist, and his head rests at the crook of your neck. Graham’s eyes struggle to stay open, his vision blurry with tears and the adrenaline and pain crashing down and making it hard to find the will to stay conscious.

“Look at all your hard work,” the Corinthian hums, the sound of your song still playing in his mind. “How does it feel?”

You look at him. His dark blood is crimson as it stains his shirt. His messy black hair is only worse now, his pale blue eyes brighter and paler as his pupils grow to the size of a coin.

He looks beautiful, you think.

“Different.”

The tip of his nose brushes underneath your ear. “Do you want to finish it off?”

You nod gently.

The Corinthian fishes a sharp blade from the inside of his jacket. He takes your hand and wraps it around the handle, gripping it tight and helping to guide you.

“Right…” he moves the tip of the blade to press against Graham’s straining neck. He presses it right under his chin, starting from the far right, opposite the needle, “...here.”

“Here?” you ask as he lets go, keeping the blade steady.

He nods. “Right there.”

You lift your other hand to hold the back of his neck steady. Graham watches, terrified. You stare him dead in the eyes, unblinking, unwavering.

You carve the blade into his throat and slice. All the way across, you take your time in slowly slitting his throat. You only blink as the blood sprays out of his sliced arteries and spray all over your face and neck. It keeps spraying and keeps spraying, coming in spurts as he chokes on his blood, gurgling and coughing.

You continue to stare at him, even as you've finished even after he has died and the light has left his eyes and the songs have left his soul. His eyes are bulgy and he's drenched in blood. Butchered.

Out of the corner of your eye, you catch a dark hand reaching out to Graham. You want to turn, to see her take him, to watch as he is swept away in the hands of Death to his afterlife. But you don't. Watching Graham, you see the flickers of hope in his eyes die out as the life leaves him and replaces it with emptiness. A momentary silence is filled with the gentle flap of wings.

The Corinthian comes back to mind as he pulls you back enough to see the whole of your work. He shakes his head in admiration, smiling wide.

“Your first one,” he says.

“My first one.”

“How does it feel?”

His hands on your hips pull you back against his body. You lean into him. “Different.”

He chuckles lightly, one of his hands moving from your waist in favor of sliding up the length of your body to wrap around your throat, resting there as he holds you securely. His other hand slides down your arm and takes the knife from your hand.

“I think you liked it,” he hums in your ear, dropping his knife on the table with a clatter and holding your neck tighter. “Having his life in your hands?”

You swallow thickly, staring at the dripping blood as the crimson on your face dries. “I–”

“Say it,” he cuts you off, his lips right by your ear, his teeth nipping at the lobe. “You loved it. You loved silencing him.”

He feels your shallow breaths beneath his palm. Still dazed, you say, “I–”

“Say it.”

You take in a slow breath, filling your lungs before you admit it, the curling in your stomach gone and replaced by the chills along your skin. “I loved it,” you sigh. “I loved silencing him.”

He smiles triumphantly. “I know you did,” he chuckles. “Now look at you. A new person, a new dream.” His smile widens and his hand tightens. “You're just like me.”

“Just like you.”

“A nightmare.” His lips graze the shell of your ear.

“A nightmare.”

You lean into him with a slight moan when his lips press against your neck, kissing it with insistent lips and insistent teeth. “Just like you,” you whisper, like the repeating lyrics of a song.

“Just like me.”

Your eyes flutter at the way his teeth nip at your flesh. “A nightmare.”

“A nightmare.” He turns you around in his arms, moving you so your back presses against the table. His lips crash down on yours, swallowing you whole as they do. He can taste the blood staining your lips. You melt against him, weak and wanting as his body presses flush against yours. He bends you back against the table, laying you down as his lips trail down to the skin of your neck, kissing and biting and sucking.

“Look at you,” he breathes. “A corrupted little dream.”

Corrupted. You like that word.

“Corinthian,” you moan, bringing your arms up as your hands wrap around the back of his head and keep him close to you.

“My little dream,” he scoffs, his hands gripping your body tightly.

You go to speak, but he cuts you off. He laughs wickedly. “But you're not a dream, are you? And you're not a nightmare.”

“Cor–”

“You're just a little whore, aren't you?” he smirks, riding your shirt up as his hand slips under it. “A little whore who wants to be something else.”

You moan. “A whore.”

His face is inches from yours again as he speaks quietly, his voice low and rough and dangerous. “You thought I wouldn't know what you were when I saw you?” he questions, finding it amusing. “You thought I wouldn't know you were just a dream trying to be something she isn't?”

Your breath has picked up, heavy as your head spins. “I–”

He's not having it. He silences you again, holding your throat still as he makes you look at him, as he makes sure you can't look away. “Let me show you what you are,” he breathes. “Then I'll rebuild you into something you can be.”

Enchanted by him and his words, you breathe deeply. “Show me what I am,” you echo.

He nods, “That's right.”

“What I can be.”

“Good girl,” he praises. He attacks your mouth once more. It's a bruising kiss as he wraps you up in him. His hand grips your neck tightly, constricting your breath a bit as he does. With one hand, he rips your dress from your body and lets it fall to the ground in rags. You gasp as he does it, your body now exposed to the chilly air as you're left in nothing but your undergarments.

He hums deeply as he looks over you. He smiles. “Dream had it right with this body,” he says, running his hand over your skin and listening to the way you moan.

He hooks his finger around the waistband of your panties, pulling them roughly down your legs to reveal yourself to him. “Look at you,” he breathes as he smooths his hand over your mound. “You're so pretty, aren't you?”

You moan when his long middle finger sinks inside of you, sliding between your damp folds. He's surprised by how wet you are, though he supposes he shouldn't be.

You immediately clamp down around his finger, and he lets out a long sigh. “Such a tight little thing.”

Your legs move to close at the intrusion, not new to the feeling but still not quite used to it either. He just forces them apart, keeping you spread wide for him as he does. “Don't you hide yourself from me,” he says, thrusting a second finger inside of you as you moan at the stretch.

He pumps his fingers in and out of you, collecting the gathering wetness as he watches you through his dark glasses, admires the way your body responds to him.

Your hips meet his hands as he keeps touching you, eager to feel more of him as your shallow breaths continue to pass between your lips. When he pulls his hand from you, you whimper at the loss, clenching around nothing in an attempt to feel him again.

You watch as he sets his fingers on his tongue, closing his mouth around them and suckling with a deep hum. He caresses your name with his lips as he looks down at you. “You're delicious, sweetheart,” he says, and your body keens into his touch.

His hand around your throat tightens as he bends down so his face is hardly separated from yours. “I bet you'd just love to feel my mouth on you, hm?”

You nod quickly, “Please.”

He laughs darkly, kissing you roughly and letting his mouth trail down your body—down, down, down until his mouth ghosts over your fluttering pussy.

Your back arches when you feel his hot mouth against you. His tongue laps against your folds and he suckles around you, tasting the sweetness of your nectar. His tongue flattens against you as he begins to lick you up.

His hand loosens around your throat before ultimately letting go to hold your grinding hips down. Your mouth falls open and you give into him, tangling your fingers in his hair and encouraging his mouth against you.

He laps at your pussy like you're the finest wine. He can taste the virtue that pulsed in your veins, and he can taste the darkness beginning to replace it. His tongue delves inside of you, his lips wrapping around your throbbing clit and suckling gently.

The pleasure jolts through your body like a fire, and you’re entirely willing to let it consume you. You want to feel its burning flames lick at your flesh, searing it from bone to turn you to ash and create something new out of the remains.

The Corinthian sinks three fingers into you after a while, pumping them in and out as you enjoy the delicious stretch with closed eyes, moaning and grinding. He looks up at you, looking for your eyes and finding them hooded.

You mewl when he pulls away from you. “No, no, no,” he says. “Open your eyes, sweetheart. You gotta watch me make you mine.”

You do as you're told, opening your eyes and doing your best to keep them that way. He praises you with another “good girl” before he's wrapping his lips around you again.

He enjoys every second immensely, tasting the sweet nectar of your arousal as he coaxes it from you, taking the grinding of your hips every time he curls his fingers or sucks on your clit.

You moan his name as you feel the rise in your stomach tightening with an oncoming pleasure. You clench around his fingers, your clit pulses against his tongue. You've forgotten all about Graham's body slumped in his bindings, you'd forgotten the blood staining your face and neck. It's all the Corinthian.

You throw your head back roughly and gasp when you cum, your head spinning as the back of it smacks against the table. Your thighs tremble and shake as he refuses to let up, sinking his tongue deeper inside. Your moans almost sound like tiny cries as you grind your hips into his mouth.

He licks his lips, tasting you on his tongue with an immense amount of appreciation. "You're fucking delicious, baby,” he hums, smirking dangerously.

He sits up to his full height once more, his hand finding its place around your throat as he bends down to kiss you again. The taste of yourself on his tongue is intoxicating.

His lips smack as he pulls away from you. Without a word, he flips you onto your stomach atop the table. He grabs a handful of your ass, squeezing it roughly. The breath is forced from your lungs as your chest presses against the table.

The Corinthian tangles his hand in your hair as he roughly pulls your head up, making you look up as your eyes fall on Graham.

“Look at him,” he hums. “Look at all that good work.”

You do. You take in the sight of him with a new set of eyes. The red thread keep his lips shut tight. He'd made such wonderful sounds when you'd sewn them. You'd taken his song and added it to your own, his fear and his desperation had been the perfect addition to your symphony.

His blood soaks his clothes, as well as your face, what was once crimson now darker from being exposed to the air. You can still hear the way he choked, the way he gasped for air that wouldn't come.

His skin was so pale, his eyes that were once a pale blue now cloudy and grey with the mask of death. His once pink lips are just as grey. You can still see the smile they made, the words they spoke. The things he could sing.

You could still hear him singing.

You moan when the Corinthian’s hand presses between your slick folds again. He smiles, another dark chuckle slipping from his lips. “There you go,” he says. “Nice and slick for me. Be a good girl and say please.”

You let out an airy breath, mumbling a tiny whisper of, “Please.”

But he isn't convinced as he groans and shakes his head. “No, you can do better than that, sweetheart. Now I'm not going to give you what you need until you say please.”

Desperate and needy, you let out another breathy moan. “Please,” you whine again, louder this time as your words form into a melody. “I need you. I need you to make me yours.”

He's drunk off your obedience, the way you gave into him so easily from the start. He inclines his head, satisfied. “Good girl.”

The jingle of his belt buckle fills your ears with its gentle ring. Your pussy flutters when you feel the tip of him press against your folds. “Please,” you whisper again.

You let out a long breath when he buries himself to the hilt inside of your hot cunt. A rough groan falls from his lips, the tip of his cock pressing deep inside of you as you lose your breath.

You grip the table, allowing the pleasure to fill you as he holds your hips tight. You moan at the stretch of him inside you.

The Corinthian lets out a deep breath, steadying himself as he pulls out just barely to the tip before roughly thrusting back into. You moan loudly, your head dizzy with the feeling blossoming inside of you.

He doesn't allow you a slow build. He doesn't give you the privilege of easing you into the monstrous nature of his love. Instead, he holds you steady as he fucks into your tight pussy, snapping his hips in and out of you without sparing a second for you to adjust to him.

He grunts and groans behind you as he uses you to his need. He feeds off your moans, their song-like nature filling the air and seeming to hypnotize him into wanting even more of you, into needing even more of you.

The sound of his hips smacking against your ass fills the room. It joins your moans and his dark grunts, blending together perfectly.

“Listen to you,” he grunts. “You're my little song now.”

You can no longer think straight, your head spinning with pleasure, with the sound of Graham's singing in your head, with the sound of flapping wings.

You watch Graham as if through rose-colored glasses, the pleasure mixing with the sight of him creating something you've never felt before as you continue to moan meekly.

And, for a moment, you think of Dream.

As a melody plays in the back of your brain, a new melody you've never heard before, you think about how much you want to show Dream.

But he abandoned you. And, before that, he'd created you as a sweet dream that could never know anything other than harmony. And you hated him for that.

So, as you watch the blood drip from his sealed lips, you smile and give into the Corinthian completely. His fingers press to your clit, and you shudder as you feel yourself getting so close, so close to falling apart and forever becoming the Corinthian’s song…ready to leave Sweet Dream behind forever.

The pressure builds as his speed on your clit does as well. You clench around his cock, your head light and your moans scratching your throat. “Corinthian,” you whine. “I'm so close.”

His hips snap into yours a little harder. “I bet you are,” he huffs. “Don't worry, sweetheart. I'll make you nice and full.”

The pleasure rises within you until you can’t hold it in anymore. With a thrust of his hips and a circle of his finger, you fall apart. Your whole body shudders as you let out a loud, breathy moan as it all comes crashing down. You give in to the Corinthian’s symphony of death.

A rough groan, bordering on a growl, erupts from his throat as he shoves his cock as deep inside you. He gives in to the squeeze of your cunt and cums, grinding his hips so deep as he fills you to the brim.

And with one last thrust, with his cum buried in your fluttering pussy, he claims you as his. He lets go of your hair, pulling out of you with a heavy sigh.

You whimper at the loss of him, laying on the table as your legs shake.

The Corinthian’s arms wrap around you, picking you up and pulling you to stand as he embraces you in another kiss. You lean into him, letting his lips meld against yours.

He looks over your face, the new clarity in your eyes. He smiles.

“Sing me a song, sweetheart.”

And you do. You sing a song of a dying promise, the sounds of the symphony you'd just created allowing you to sing a melody of broken hope and shattered dreams.

You sing for a long time as the Corinthian listens to you, enchanted by your song, by your new dream.

Now, you belonged to him.

The Sandman taglist: @poetic-fiasco @the-nerdy-goddess @life-on-needs @fanreader @jamiethenerdymonster @sarahbullet235 @majestyjade @melinoe-the-rat @katsukis1wife @sugakookieswithacupoftae16 @hatterripper31 @kplatzman @kmc1989 The Corinthian taglist: @waitingformysandman @honey-im-hotdog @saltysasque @anotherblackreader Tag yourself here...

#corinthian #the corinthian #corinthian x reader #corinthian x you #corinthian smut #corinthian fanfic #corinthian fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #the sandman #the sandman fanfic #the sandman fanfiction #reader insert #female reader #10 days of smutmas

[fluentmoviequoter]

The Price of Christmas Connections

Day 8 of 12 Days of Ficmas

Pairing: Dalton Lambert x reader

Summary: You knock on Dalton's door and offer him some Christmas cookies, and when he offers to pay, you gladly accept.

Warnings: so much fluff; I think I forgot how to write for Dalton.

Word Count: 0.9k+ words (sorry it's short, I liked the idea but couldn't figure out how to make it longer then got too busy to try)

A/N: Like I said in the warnings, I need to watch The Red Door again bc I feel like I'm not writing Dalton as well as I used to, but I have finals this week so this is the best I can do for now. I may revisit this next week and rewrite it if anyone is interested, but for now enjoy some fluff (which Dalton very much deserves after the semester he's had)!

The best part of JPU, in your opinion, is that your last class of the week is across from the art building. Better, is that you get to see the guy you wish you knew. You know his name because his friend yells it whenever she is around. But that is all you know about Dalton. Though you want to know more.

Dalton watches for you when he leaves Professor Armagan’s class, wondering what it would be like if he dared to introduce himself. You’ve waved at Dalton a few times, and he’s awkwardly returned it or pretended not to see you. Every time Dalton walks back to his dorm, feeling disappointed, ashamed, and prepared to get yelled at by Chris.

When December begins, you can’t help but imagine how different the holiday season would be if you could talk to Dalton, get to know him… fall in love with him. The last idea hits you out of nowhere, but you mean it. The rest of the students at JPU seem disinterested in the time of year, with no sign of the Christmas spirit anywhere to be seen. Deciding that something needs to be done, you pull on an invisible Santa hat and set out to bring the spirit of Christmas to JPU until everyone goes home for Christmas.

You pile all of the homemade decorated cookies (and some undecorated, in case someone doesn’t like icing) onto a Christmas platter you picked up from the nearby grocery store. After dressing up with a Mrs. Claus dress pulled over your warmest leggings and a long-sleeve thermal shirt, you leave your apartment and walk to the nearest dorm building. Nearly everyone on the first floor accepts at least one cookie. By the time you reach the third floor, you’re preparing to return to your apartment to refill the platter. As you knock on a door, you count the cookies and decide to offer the last three to whoever is in the dorm. The door opens, and you smile, hoping to spread a little light. You see Dalton on the other side of the door, and your smile grows.

“Hi,” you greet. “I’m handing out Christmas cookies, could I interest you in one? Or three?”

Dalton’s jaw drops nearly imperceptibly as he looks between you and the platter.

“I’ve been watching you, I wanted to meet,” he blurts out. His eyes widen as he rushes to correct, “I mean- not like stalker-watching you, I just know when you have class and I wait until I see you when you leave. No, that’s not better, um-”

You laugh, shifting the platter so you can lay a hand on his arm. “It’s okay. I’ve been wanting to meet you too,” you admit.

Dalton nods, unmoving because you’re at his dorm and touching him. His mind races, forming plenty of things to say, but nothing comes out.

“So, do you want a cookie?” you repeat.

“Oh, yes, please. You- you can come in, if you want, since you said you wanted to meet me.” Dalton cringes as he finishes, whispering an apology.

“Sure,” you agree, entering his dorm.

You set the cookies on a clear corner of his desk, walking to the edge of his bed to inspect the art on his wall. Each piece tells a different story and you feel like you know Dalton more after each picture.

“Are you selling the cookies, or? I mean, I’ll pay for them if you are,” Dalton says, watching you look at his pictures.

He notices your eyes light up as you turn to him and say, “No, I’m not selling them, just handing them out. I’ll accept payment anyway, though.”

Dalton’s brows furrow as his arms drop. You realize you confused him with the conflicting information, so you decide to show him instead. Grabbing his sweatshirt, you pull him to you, kissing him as payment for the cookies, for allowing you to come in and get to know each other, and most importantly, and the opportunity to fall in love with him.

When you pull away from him, breaking the kiss, his eyes remain closed as he mumbles, “That works.”

“I’m glad we finally met,” you tell him.

“Me too.”

“There’s still cookies over there.”

Dalton rolls his eyes and smiles before leaning in to kiss you again.

✯✯✯✯✯

After turning in your last test, marking the official beginning of Christmas break, you run to the art building and wait for Dalton to finish his final presentation for Professor Armagan’s class. When the door opens, you perk up, standing on your toes to watch for Dalton.

“Dalton!” you yell, waving at him when he appears.

He smiles, rushing down the stairs and pulling you into his arms as he asks how your final went. 

“Cookie girl!” several people yell, hooting and pointing at you. “Be my Mrs. Claus!” one of them requests.

“My cookie girl,” Dalton says shyly, looking into your eyes as his arms tighten around you.

“Your cookie girl,” you agree, boldly kissing him in front of all the students.

The previously interested guys boo playfully as they continue walking, and you hear Dalton’s friend yell his name in surprise. You pull back, turning into Dalton’s shoulder before facing her.

“This is Chris,” Dalton introduces you. “Chris, this is my cookie girl.”

You roll your eyes at Dalton as you shake Chris’s hand.

“Oh my gosh, my roommate saved me one of your cookies; they were so good!” she gushes.

“Best priced cookies I’ve ever gotten,” Dalton says as he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you against him.

Because of a few cookies, you went from staring longingly across campus to see each other to running into his arms. They’re the best-priced cookies you’ve ever had, too.

#fluentmoviequoter12daysoffics #dalton lambert #dalton lambert x reader #dalton lambert fluff #dalton lambert fic #dalton lambert imagine #insidious #insidious the red door #fem!reader

[lachlanzeez]

Instagram posts of the Wednesdays cast <33

Parts: [1] [2] [3]

Y/n is percy's s/o and is a little sister to hunter. Def in love with jenna, so with hunter it is all platonic because he has a husband!

girl in the photo of "y/n" is from pinterest, i do not own the picture

go follow their instgrams:

@jennaortega @percy @hunterdoohan @ememyers @joysunday @timburton @oliverdwatson @georgieebleu @riccigrams @calum___ross --------------------------------------------------

@y/nisjennaswife

followers: 7.8 million

following: 367 hundred

posts: 34

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@y/nisjennaswife: My woman <33

liked by: 5.1 million

comments: 112k

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@jennaortega: Love you xoxo

@y/nisjennaswife replied to @jennaortega: I love you too my woman xx

@percy: @jennaortega why you stealin my girlfriend?!

@jennaortega replied to @percy: shes mine now

@y/nisjennaswife: My favourite people xox i love yous

liked by: 2.1 million

comments limited to friends only:

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@jennaortega: love yous x

@ememyers: your my favourite too!!

@oliverdwatson: xoxo

@hunterdoohan: merry christmas everybody! and love you to y/n xxxx

@y/nisjennaswife: NOOO HE STOLE MY WOMANN! HOW DARE YOU @hunterdoohan

liked by: 986k

comments: 354k

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@jennaortega: i would never replace you my beautiful woman x

@hunterdoohan: Hahah i would never steal jenna from you, i love you more than her x

@jennaortega replied to @hunterdoohan: WHAT!

@percy: you still have me xoxo

@y/nisjennaswife replied to @percy: hmmm

@oliverdwatson: what the hell

@ememyers: Lovely picture

@y/nisjennaswife: i love you @jennaortega but i definitely ship wenclair! @ememyers

liked by: 3.6 million

comments: 334k

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@georgieebleu: YESSSS WENCLAIRR

@y/nisjennaswife replied to @georgieebleu: YESSSS

@Timburton: very wonderful actors, congrats on your emmy @y/nisjennaswife

@y/nisjennaswife replied to @timburton: Thanku tim!

@oliverdwatson: ship ship ship

@ememyers: haha thankyou y/n!

@jennaortega: xoxo

@y/nisjennaswife: Good afternoon everybody!

likes by: 5.3 million

comments limited to only friends:

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@jennaortega: afternoon my woman x

*liked by y/n*

@ememyers: pretty girll xx

@percy: my girlfriend is so bae

@y/nisjennaswife replied to @Percy: that's so cringey babe haha xoxo

@oliverdwatson: ima steal your girl @jennaortega and @percy

@georgieebleu: pretty and where did you get the shirt?

@joysunday: STUNNING

@hunterdoohan: go y/n, rocking that outfit!

@calum___ross: love the outfit y/n !

@y/nisjennaswife: I had a wonderful year, meeting all these wonderful people and i wish we had more time in romania but it must have come to an end. I love all of you and thank you @timburton and @netflix !!

@georgieebleu @joysunday @jennaortega @percy @oliverdwatson @hunterdoohan @tim burton @ememyers @riccigrams

liked by: 7.4 million

comments: 2.1 million ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

@jennaortega: love you y/n i really enjoyed our time together and hope to see eachother soon! xoxo

@georgieebleu: love you y/n!!!!

@oliverdwatson: had a great time with you too y/n i really hope we stay in touch with each other!

@joysunday: miss you already even though we called 10 mins ago !!

@percy: love you babe and really miss you guys even though we are going to see each other soon!

@riccigrams: awe y/n! i will miss you too! i hope you a great christmas holiday and stay in touch with me okay!

@y/nisjennaswife: replied to @riccigrams: will do ! xoxo

@hunterdoohan: love you y/n i have had a great year with you guys and will miss you a lot ! fielder said that he already missed you too!

@timburton: had a very lovely time working with all of you and had a great time, have a great christmas everybody!

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hope you guys had a great christmas and got what ever you guys wanted! have a happy new years !!

xoxo

-lachlan zeez

#warnings #wednesday netflix #wednesday addams #wednesday spoilers #wednesday #hunter doohan #tyler galpin x reader #tyler galpin x you #tyler galpin #the addams family #x reader #rowan laslow x reader #xavier x reader #xavier thorpe #rowan x reader #anon answered #anon <3 #ajax petropolus #x you fluff #flop era post #fanfic #x reader fanfic #best friend #brother #bianca barclay #wednesday cast #ajax x enid #enid sinclair #kent #davina

[pascaloverx]

Strangers?

Part Six

previous part next part

Author's note: This fanfic is set in the creation of Jenny Han. Conrad Fisher and other characters mentioned in the future do not belong to me. I hope you like this fanfic, depending on how it goes, I'll decide if this fic will have more parts or just this one. This fanfic is recommended for all audiences, there will be no adult content in it, only possible inappropriate language and alcohol consumption. Brief content of violence in this part.

"So, are you the type who enjoys feel-good movies?" Conrad asks over the phone, considering you're in separate cars conversing through the speakers.

"I'd define my movie taste as eclectic, but I do have a soft spot for romantic comedies." You respond, smiling, especially since Conrad had been recommending worthwhile films, none of which were romantic comedies until now.

"I think I need to watch some movies with you. I really have no idea how you can endure watching films that are essentially about two people denying their love for two hours." Conrad says, sounding a bit skeptical, which doesn't surprise you.

"I'm just a girl, standing in front of a guy, asking him to accept my taste in movies." You say with a smile. You highly doubt Conrad has ever watched "Notting Hill."

"I feel like this is a quote from some movie. Are you pulling a prank on me?" You smile, while finding it surprising that he noticed you made a reference.

"It might feel like a movie quote, but no tricks here. Just channeling a bit of 'Notting Hill' charm." You assure Conrad with a playful tone.

"What's your favorite Christmas movie? Every romcom lover enjoys a good holiday film..." He's a bit smug, but you really like some Christmas movies.

"Look at him presuming something, but to answer your question, my favorite Christmas movie is 'The Holiday.' There's something about Kate Winslet and Cameron Diaz in the same movie that makes me happy." You say noticing that you're about to get home which means you're going to introduce Conrad to your mother.

"Even though I'm not a big fan of Christmas movies, I'm a huge fan of 'It's a Wonderful Life." Conrad says, expressing his appreciation for the classic film.

"So, you're into classics. That's good; we can introduce each other to new films. And speaking of introductions, remember I'm taking you to meet my mom, right?" You say, keeping the dialogue consistent.

"Anything I should know before we get there?" Conrad asks, sounding concerned.

"She'll refer to you as my boyfriend even if I say otherwise. She might ask too many questions, but don't feel like you have to answer anything that makes you uncomfortable." You explain to Conrad, preparing him for the meeting.

"If this is the worst that's going to happen, we'll both be fine." Conrad speaks in a calm tone. For a moment you wished you could kiss his face.

As you both pull up in front of your house a few minutes later, you can hardly believe you're about to introduce Conrad to your mom. As you step out of the car, you hear a male voice calling your name. You glance at Conrad, who is approaching you, but it's not his voice you're hearing. It's that jerk's voice.

"You moved on pretty fast for someone who swore they loved me just last month, don't you think?" Noah says, approaching you, but Conrad steps between the two of you, and you can't help but feel like this is a nightmare.

"You have no right to demand anything from me, and you shouldn't even be here, Noah. This place is too humble for your luxurious ass." You say, feeling an inexplicable anger, yet not wanting to involve Conrad in your problems.

"Dude, I suggest you back off and leave." Conrad says, completely shielding me with his body, which I find endearing, but there's a fear that Noah might do something harmful.

"And who are you to tell me what to do?" Noah sneers at Conrad, then turns to you and asks, "Is this the best you could do to replace me?"

Before you know it, Conrad and Noah are exchanging blows, rolling on the ground like two dogs, right in front of your house. You then get the idea to hop into the car and honk the horn, hoping to embarrass Noah or maybe even have your mom show up with a baseball bat.

"What the hell is going on here?" Your mom exclaims, likely coming from work with shopping bags in hand. Noah is terrified of your mom ever since she once declared she'd hunt him down to the ends of the earth if he ever hurt you. Noah and Conrad immediately separate, getting up and straightening themselves out. Poor Conrad, he's nursing a cut on the corner of his mouth.

"Your daughter is cheating on me with Ken's project from Wallmart." Noah speaks with all his voice, which made you incredibly angry. Your furious mother rushes in towards Noah.

"You wash your mouth before talking about my daughter like that, now I suggest you get the hell out of here before I press charges against you." Your mother speaks in a threatening tone, you feel so happy to have your mother's protection. You decide to help Conrad get into your house with your mother while Noah goes away.

"So this is the boy you spent this time away with, my daughter really doesn't waste time." Your mom says with an amused tone and you fell super shy. Conrad smiles discreetly.

"Mom, stop embarrassing me and give me these groceries." You say, taking the groceries from your mother's hand as the three of you are entering your house.

#conrad fisher x reader #spotify #tsitp conrad #conrad fisher fanfic #conrad x you #conrad fisher #belly conklin #reader insert #the summer i turned pretty #jeremiah fisher #tsitp fanfic #Spotify