#You owe it to yourself more than you owe these celebrities anything

[inlovewithquestionablecharacters]

Luffy X Reader: Love bites

Only joined the One piece fandom recently and i'm already obsessed with Luffy ❤️

Warnings: Smut, public sex (they're asleep but still), biting, hickeys, oral (f reciving), cum eating, unprotected sex, penetration(p in v), fingering, handjob, kissing, fluff, luffy being luffy.

Word Count: 3,2K

The crew had just come back from a rather successful adventure and decided to celebrate over some drinks. Some drinks turned into many drinks and now you found yourself surrounded by your drunken crew mates, the moonlight shining against you. Usopp was passed out on the floor mumbling in his sleep, Nami and Zoro were having a contest to see who could do the most acrobatics without getting nauseous and Sanji was off to the side flirting with a statue you'd retrieved in your mission. You observed your crew with a small smile. You hadn't drank as much as the others so you were just a little buzzed. Maybe a little more giggly than normal but nothing too bad. You closed your eyes, breathing in the salt air.

You loved this life. The pirate life. Sure, you were constantly on the run and it seemed everyone had something against your crew but it didn't matter. You felt at home with your bundle of misfits. Your odd little family. You'd owe Luffy for the rest of your life for dragging you along. Without him you'd still be stuck on your little island withering away in boredom and loneliness. Luffy had this effect on him, this hidden talent of finding people who needed him without them even knowing it. Luffy was…. 

Where the hell was he?

You opened your eyes abruptly, searching the ship for your raven haired Captain. Nothing. Luffy was nowhere to be seen. He was probably in the kitchen you thought. Just as you were about to close your eyes again you felt something grab you. Your instinct was to fight but when you saw his familiar smile the fear disappeared. Luffy had wrapped his arms around you and dragged you over to where he was sitting. He'd dragged you across the ship like you weighed nothing. Even after knowing him for a while his abilities still surprised you. 

"Hi Luffy.”

“Hi!”

His breath smelled of alcohol and his words came out slower than usual. You couldn't help but smile at the way he looked, all blissed out and beautiful. Falling for Luffy was easy. Inevitable even. He just had this energy to him, this magnetic pulse that seemed to drag you to him. 

The rest of the crew felt it too. It was why they decided to join him on his adventure with little hesitation. But what you felt was different. You’d catch yourself admiring your Captain constantly. It didn’t matter if you were in a fight, running for your lifes or just hanging out on the Merry your eyes always seemed to dart in his direction. You wondered if the crew noticed it. You thought you were very discreet with it, sneaky even. Sure there were times when your gaze would linger for too long but no one had ever mentioned anything so you thought you were safe. It’s funny how oblivious people can be when they choose to believe something. 

“You okay Luffy?”

“Better now.”

Luffy’s arms wrapped around your thorax like an odd meaty corset. You gasped slightly when you felt him lift your body up and place you on his lap, your legs settling on the sides of his thighs. Luffy was an affectionate person. He loved  physical touch but this was another level of contact. One you weren’t used to receiving. You placed your hands on Luffy’s shoulders forcing him to release you slightly so you could look at his face. 

“Are you sure you’re okay Captain?”

Luffy closed his eyes, taking a deep breath in as he did. When he opened his eyes once again there was an odd look to them. You were used to seeing his bright eyes opened wide with joy or wrinkling on the sides as he smiled, something he did a lot. But now his eyes had a certain look to them. They looked a lot like they did when he was serious about something but there was a slight twist. A sort of seductive energy to his gaze. His eyes bore into yours causing you to swallow dry. Luffy tilted his head to the side a little before moving to look at his arms wrapped around you. You watched as he licked his lips slowly. You opened your mouth to ask him once more if he was alright but before you could do so Luffy pulled your chest flush to his and sank his face into your neck. You felt his nose move against your collarbone, your eyes fluttering shut at the feeling.

“You smell so good.”

You felt him take a deep breath in, the warm air tickling your skin. 

“Could eat you up.”

“Luffy, are you sure you’re-Ah!”

Luffy’s teeth sank into your neck without warning causing you to moan out. Before you could even process what was happening Luffy was already kissing the place where he’d bit you, his tongue lapping over the tender skin before sucking gently. Your head lulled to the side instinctively giving your Captain more access to your flesh. Your breath came out in short bursts as Luffy continued to lavish your neck in hickeys. You didn't expect this. Not from your Captain. Not from Luffy. Yet here you were. 

Your hands moved to the back of his neck grabbing the hair on the base and giving it a small tug when Luffy gave you a particularly rough suck. Luffy groaned at the feeling, his hips moving up to rut against yours. You felt the stiff outline of his dick against your clothed cunt. This is really happening. You weren't just imagining things. The thought seemed to snap you out of your lustfull daze. You grabbed Luffy's hair tugging him on your neck with force. Your Captain glanced at you questiongly calling out your name in a whisper.

“What's wrong?”

“You're drunk Luffy.”

“So are you.”

“Not as much as you are. I’ll remember this in the morning. I won’t regret it but you-”

“What makes you think I'd regret this?”

You opened and closed your mouth trying to come up with a good answer. The truth was you weren’t used to people desiring you. You’d grown up in a place where everyone made you feel like you weren’t enough. Not pretty enough, not smart enough, not good enough. After being told that your entire life it’s hard to believe it isn’t true. And Luffy was, well he was Luffy. Luffy your friend, Luffy your captain. Luffy the boy who had saved you. The boy you loved. Woah, first time you'd allowed yourself to admit that.

“Hey.”

Luffy seemed to sense your fears, his hands unlatching from your body so that he could hold your face.

“There are better people out there, Luffy.”

“I don't want better. I want you.”

Your eyes widened at Luffy's words, lips quivering slightly. You placed your head against his nuzzling your nose against his. Luffy grinned against your skin before placing a peck on your lips. You leaned back, glancing at Luffy's lustful eyes before latching your lips to his. The kiss was messy, the way Luffy liked it. He devoured your mouth, sucking at your bottom lip. You opened your mouth to him, tongues tangling with each other in a sort of desperate dance. Luffy's hands found their way to your ass grabbing onto the flesh roughly. You moaned against his open mouth, hips grinding down on his crotch. 

“Ah porra, isso gatinha.” (Oh fuck, thats it darling.)

You didn’t understand anything when Luffy spoke Portuguese but the sound of his voice when he talked in his mother tongue did something to you. You pressed your thighs against Luffy's legs trying to get some much needed friction. Your captain noticed your needs, his hands travelling down to your pants. His fingers toyed with the buttons before glancing up at you.

“Can i?”

“Yes please Luffy. Need you.”

The whine in your voice made Luffy growl, his hands working rapidly to gain access to your pussy. The moments his digits found their way to your folds you keened. Your body launched forward, head resting on Luffy's chest. He played with your folds, gathering up your juices in his fingers.

“So wet for me baby.”

“Only for my Captain.”

Luffy liked being called Captain in general but the way the title sounded slipping out from your lips did something unspeakable to him. He plunged a finger into your cunt grinning at the small moan that escaped your lips. He thrusted his finger into you for a moment before adding another one. You gripped onto Luffy's arm, your nails digging into his forearm. Your eyes fell on Luffy's arm as he fingered you, watching the muscles contract as his hand worked on bringing you to bliss. You didn’t expect it, the thought had never occurred to you but before you knew it you were sinking your teeth into Luffy's bicep. Luffy's hand stopped moving against your pussy, his whole body going rigid. Fuck. Did he not like it? Had you ruined the mood with your actions?

“Luffy i’m so-”

“Do that again.”

“Huh?”

“Do that again.”

Luffy's voice dropped an octave as he spoke, his eyes glossed over and his pupils blown wide. You looked at him hesitating for a moment before biting down on his arm again. The moan that ripped itself from Luffy's throat was feral. His hips bucked up into your forcing his fingers to go deeper into your pussy and causing you to let out a moan of his name. Your hand clasped around your mouth, eyes widening as you remembered where you were. You turned your body so that you could see where the others were. A sigh of relief left your lips when you realised that the rest of your crew were passed out. Completely unaware of what you and their Captain were getting up to. You turned your attention back to Luffy caressing his hair before placing another kiss to his lips. You bit his lip and tugged causing his skin to stretch a little as you did. You let out a giggle.

“Sorry!”

“It’s okay. I liked it”

“Oh yeah?”

You repeated your action this time grinding your hips down on his as you did. Luffy gritted out your name, teeth finding your neck once more as he bucked up into you. He removed his fingers from your cunt and shoved them in his mouth. 

“So sweet. Taste so good.”

Luffy's innocent eyes glance up at you.

“Let me taste you.” “You don’t have to Luffy.”

“I want to. Please let me eat it.”

“Oh-okay.”

Luffy manoeuvred you off his lap laying you down on the bench. You watched as he tugged down your pants exposing your cunt to him. Even in the dark you could see the smile that appeared on his face as he glanced at your pussy. He kneeled on the ground tugging you by legs. He placed either leg on his shoulders, his fingers playing with your folds. 

“Look at that. So pretty.”

“Luffy please…”

Luffy didn’t want you to beg. He had no desire to tease you. All he wanted was to make you feel good. And that was exactly what he did. Luffy ate you out like you were the last meal he’d ever have. You had to bite into your hand to keep yourself from moaning too loud and waking the others. The thought of one of them waking up and finding you like this scared you but in a strange way it also gave you a small thrill. You liked the thought of people seeing Luffy worshipping you like you were the only person in the blue sea. Luffy enjoyed the thought too but for a completely different reason. He liked the idea of the crew seeing that he was the one who made you feel like this. That you were his and his alone. You didn’t notice it because you didn’t value yourself but anyone in the crew would worship the ground you walked on if you’d let them. But you’d chosen Luffy and he wanted everyone to know it.

“Luffy baby-Uh ah-i’m close!”

Luffy wanted you to cum, he wanted to see the way your face scrunched and your eyes rolled back but he didn’t know if he could last much longer without being inside you.

“Can I put it in?”

“What?”

“Can i fuck you right?”

Your orgasm was clouding your mind and Luffy's fingers made it hard to think straight so it took you a moment to understand what he was asking. The second you understood you nodded your head enthusiastically.

“Please Luffy, need you baby. Need you inside.”

Luffy's arms wrapped around you once more lifting your limp body with ease before settling you down on his hips again. Your hands found their way into his pants grabbing a hold of his cock and making him hiss. You licked a strip down your hand tugging Luffy's pants down so that his dick could be free. You watched the pre cum leak from his shaft, your thumb moving to collect it before placing it in your mouth. You sucked on your thumb, eyes never leaving Luffys as you did. You gave his cock a couple of strokes, observing his Adam's apple move as you fastened your pace. Luffy's hand wrapped around yours stopping your motion. You raised your eyebrow in question. 

“If you keep doing that I'll cum.”

“Maybe that's what I want.”

“Well I plan on cumming inside that pretty pussy of yours.”

You paused, surprised at Luffy's words. You didn’t imagine something so naughty could come out of the sweet boy's mouth.

“If that's okay with you that is.”

“Oh sweet Luffy.”

You leaned down so that your mouth was near Luffy's ear before whispering. 

“I want you to stuff me full.”

That did it. Luffy's hands moved to wrap around your thighs, lifting you up so that he could line his dick up with your entrance. The both of you moaned as your bodies joined. Your walls fluttered around Luffy's dick making him bite down on your shoulder. You sank your hands into his hair, grinding your hips against him slowly.

“Luffy you have to move…please-ah uh- move.”

You started to set the pace, bouncing up and down on Luffy's cock with ease. After a while your legs began to hurt and your rhythm started to falter. Luffy could tell you were close to cumming, not being so behind himself, and decided to take over. He began pistolling into you using his arms as leverage. In a matter of seconds the two of you were seeing white. You screamed out Luffy's name as you came, feeling his seed paint your walls. The two of you stayed silent against each other trying to catch your breath. You heard someone stir behind you causing you to look back. You went to get off of Luffy but his hands held you in place.

“Luffy someone’s awake we have to-”

“Shhh wait a minute.”

Usopp appeared from the other side of the deck, his hands against his head as he stumbled over. He didn’t seem to notice where he was going but then his eyes fell on you. He called out your name and you ignored him, hiding your face in Luffy's neck.

“Luffy is she okay?”

“Yeah she’d just tired. I’m going to take her to bed.”

Luffy stood up his dick shifting against your sensitive walls. You moaned and Luffy hissed at the feeling. Luffy's arms were wrapped around your ass in a way that made it impossible to notice you weren’t wearing any pants. You could feel Luffy's seed running down your bare thigh. 

“Oh okay. I think I'll go to bed too. My head is killing me.”

“Goodnight!”

“Night Captain.”

Luffy watched Usopp pass by the two of you without doubting a thing. He even stopped for a moment and whispered goodnight to you, completely unaware of what was happening. As soon as your sharpshooter was out of view Luffy raced across the deck to his bedroom. When the two of you arrived he unwrapped his arms from you and placed you on his bed immediately tugging you to the edge and kneeling down. Luffy spent the rest of the night with his face buried in your cunt pulling orgasm after orgasm out of you.

You woke up the next morning wrapped around Luffy's sheets. A small smile found its way onto your face as you recalled last night's event. You turned to snuggle into Luffy but instead you were greeted with an empty bed. You got up, grabbing your clothes from the floor and putting them on. You smoothed your hair with your hand, yawning as you made your way out of Luffy's room. You walked over to the kitchen. Just as you had expected, you found Sanji and Zoro.

“Morning boys.”

You smiled at the cook who winked at you before glancing at Zoro. The swordsman had a smirk plastered on his face.

“What is it moss head?”

“Someone had a good night.”

You froze for a moment but then regained your composure. There was no way he knew. They had been fast asleep. Zoro was testing you and you weren’t going to fall for it.

“I have no idea what you're talking about Zoro.”

“Sure you don’t.”

“I mean it moss head. Nothing happened. I drank with you guys and then went to bed okay? Whatever you think happened must have been some drunk hallucination.”

“I’d believe you. If it weren’t for those.”

“For what-”

Oh shit. You glanced at your reflection in one of the pans eyes falling on the purple bruises littered all over your neck and chest. You looked at Sanji and then at Zoro.

“Shut up.”

“We didn’t say anything.”

“Hey it’s alright, everyone deserves a good time.”

“Yeah well at least I wasn't flirting with a chunk of rock last night.”

With that you left the kitchen ,the sound of Zoro's laughter being muffled as you made your way to the deck. You passed Nami and Ussop on the way, giving them a brisk good morning and not missing the way their eyes moved from your face to the hickeys on your body.

“Quiet.”

“Didn’t say anything.”

“Yeah yeah. Where's Luffy?”

Ussop pointed to the top of the Merry. You thanked him and made your way towards the straw hat pirate. Luffy was sitting crossed leg on top of the head of the lamb. You made your way over, calling out his name. He turned at the sound of your voice, greeting you with a smile. He got up and met you halfway.

“Goodm-uff.”

Luffy pulled you into a kiss which you returned. You pulled away after a while smiling wide as you looked at Luffy. 

“Sit with me?”

“Sure.”

You began to sit down but Luffy was quicker. He grabbed your body and dragged you onto his lap. You laughed as he nuzzled into your neck. He placed a kiss on the marks he’d made last night before moving to give your forehead a kiss. You grinned, caressing his hair lovingly. You could get used to this. Just the sea, Luffy and your crew. A good life. One you deserved.

#one piece #monkey d luffy #one piece fanfiction #one piece fandom #one piece smut #monkey d. luffy #luffy x reader #luffy x you #luffy one piece #opla #one piece live action #one piece netflix #one piece zoro #one piece sanji #one piece x reader #one piece x you #opla smut #smut tag #smut #ussop #opla fanfiction #opla sanji #op live action #luffy #sanji #zoro #nami #monkey d luffy x reader #straw hat pirates #monkey d luffy smut

[fanofseabassanddorito]

Dear Chris Evans,

I’ve waited and watched. I’ve gone back and forth with Real vs PR. I’m just a fan, of your work, but I also because of what you seemed to stand for and acted like a real person. I think I’m done now.

There has been questionable ‘sightings’ even though you claim to want to be private. Your friends and hers have posted the two of you. You have posted her twice yourself. But then you seem to hide her. That isn’t a good look. If you are in love with someone, you don’t hide them because you want to be private yet leak photos and hints to keep your fans spiraling when you know how some can be.

We all know celebrities use social media for what they WANT fans to see. Why? Because they want privacy, as they should, to separate their work world from real life. I completely agree with doing so, BUT I don’t agree with going back and forth. You owe fans nothing except maybe the respect that goes both ways. After all, your fans have been the reason you have your paychecks. I think we deserve a little bit of respect not to be played by what you say in interviews vs. what you show yourself to be through your actions.

There are so many examples of couples being private but NOT hiding significant others like they are embarrassed to be seen. A real private couple does things together but do not post montages on their socials, like scare videos and couples pictures. People do not call paparazzi unless they want to be seen. A real private couple does still go to things together, they don’t hide but they don’t bring attention to themselves. Real private couples do not let things drop during a special date for something else. One example, the NYC pap walk on the day that Warrior Nun season 2 dropped right after SMA.

Tabloids run on things they are given. There have been more articles about you and this girl than Harry and Meghan, Jennifer and Ben, etc., etc., etc. your reps have never confirmed anything. IMDb does not list her as your wife. Your mother liked a tweet about the girl being racist.

I had no issues at first, thinking you wanted privacy, which I thought was a great idea, given your fandom. I gave you the benefit of the doubt for a good while. But then it seemed like her friends and yours, her mom, along with the likes on IG, proved this isn’t private. Certain social media sites have been the only ones to randomly get these pictures that are nowhere to be found. It’s only a few, and they usually come at specific times when there is doubt. Friends posted from Lisbon, Avengers in MA, and the wedding rumors began. I’m sorry, but when there is an NDA, then the wedding news should not have leaked because the NDA would cover that. And if you have to ask people to turn in their phones to attend, that’s rude and you’ve invited people you don’t trust.

Showing up to a convention, with a ring on but you can’t say her name. Just ‘Go Portugal!’ And then go on about Dodger.

Let’s not even get into photoshopped or not photoshopped because I don’t even know anymore.

I could go on and on but it saddens me. I cannot be a fan of someone just because of their projects, and that’s just me. I have kept quiet, because it’s none of my business what you do with your life. What is my business though, is who I give my hard earned money to. Barely getting by on what I make, medications and food for my kids continue to rise in cost, but they also enjoy Captain America because he seemed like a good guy in real life too. Now they come to me with things they’ve seen online like Captain America’s new wife nude in the shower. They have seen people posting about her friends and their previous tweets, and things they’ve said. Why? Because you have played games with your fandom and they got pissed and exposed things. Let’s be honest, kids get online and see things even if they aren’t supposed to. Luckily they didn’t see your ‘slip’ up, because your fans cleaned that for you quickly, but the shower pictures continue to be passed around. They also said in some of the pictures they saw you post that they thought you had a daughter but found out it was your girlfriend.

I would make sure you don’t have any more slip ups because I feel like your fans are limited at this point. The ones that see your work the day it comes out. That’s one reason why Ghosted flopped. Before this, your fans would have said you did wonderful even if you didn’t.

After the new picture of the two of you at the Globes after party, I CHOOSE to not be a fan and hand you my money. I know it isn’t much, but I will choose to spend it on a different movie or person at a convention. Maybe I just won’t have a favorite anymore because it seems like a lot just tell fans what they want to hear.

I don’t know if it’s Real or PR and don’t care but it’s the game you seem to be playing that I don’t like. I don’t care what people think of my opinion and have not posted anything about a side. I just know you look like such a hypocrite and lose fans by the hour now. So many blogs and pages that are team PR or Team Real and they argue over who is right and wrong, because you and everyone around you are playing with them. You are using them for free publicity and that is sickening. I didn’t believe it was happening and you were just trying to protect your love life. But, eventually, it was just so obvious with the tiniest bit of things creeping in on the same sites and coincidences on dates. Mostly, I just don’t want to watch all the drama that has become part of being your fan. I like to escape the real world by looking at my favorite celebrities and what they are up to or their movies etc. I don’t want to see the gross mess you have become. She looks like your daughter, so I choose to leave. You don’t know me or care because I’m just one fan, but I do know who you want people to see you as now and I don’t like this version. Be private or just don’t hide. Look happy, not miserable. Treat her like your love and wife, because I would never allow my boyfriend/husband treat me the way it appears you are treating her. To the public, she looks like a mail order bride that jumps as soon as you tell her too. It’s gross.

So, it’s been a long, fun ride being your fan until now. Enjoy traveling back and forth and wear sunscreen to the beach, because boy are you white. Research the word ‘privacy’ and maybe get those NDA’s to the people leaking things if you want privacy or take their phones from them when they are in your proximity. Invest in energy drinks next, she’s a lot younger and likes to travel and have sex (maybe check out her soft porn). Let Buddah know she did a film with a demon having sex with her. Maybe purchase a plane and get a pilots license, because older dogs don’t travel as well as they age and that’s a long ride to Portugal. Remind your wife to keep her clothes on and keep your 🍆 in your pants because I think Team Real is even over this mess and don’t want to see it. Thanks for the laughs and smiles over the years. I wish you luck and hope you’re happier than you actually look.

Sincerely,

An Ex-Fan of Christopher Robert Evans

#Chris Evans #chrisevans #albabaptista #Chris and Alba #Chris Evans and Alba Baptista #Christopher Robert Evans

[barcaatthemoon]

you don't owe me anything || ona batlle x reader ||

your first match against on doesn't go according to plan for either of you.

the red jersey that had once been a dream felt like a prison sentence. you had always wanted to play for manchester united, and there would never be another team for you, but it was still hard sometimes. you missed getting to see ona, even though you knew all it would take for you to break down was a single look shared between the two of you.

somehow, you had gotten into the finals for the champions' league. standing across from you was the barcelona team, and way in the back, ona. barcelona was always in top form, but today was different. they were all playing things even more seriously than they usually did. your team had just barely scraped through to the final.

"oh, i like that look," mary said as she nudged you. everybody on the team had been worried about you. it had been a long time since united had a game against barcelona, and even longer since you had seen ona in person. somehow, you had luckily managed to avoid those game days. "that intensity, it's going to get us a win today."

"or it'll get someone a foul," ella joked. mary shot her a nasty glare. it felt like bad luck to even joke about that, even if you knew that it was true. you were still upset over ona, and even angrier once you learned that she had moved on with one of your national team teammates. whether you'd end up playing aggressively with ona or lucy was anybody's guess.

"just don't injure bronze, we do need her for the friendlies," mary reminded you. you just gave her a curt nod as you returned to lacing up your boots. technically, this was your fourth time doing that, but you were nervous and it helped you calm down a little. ella had been watching you closely, as had katie.

you managed to unlace and lace your boots back one more time before you were being called into the lineup. you could feel ella's hands on your shoulders as the two of you stood in line waiting to go out. beside you, keira was staring at you, but you didn't look over. she was your friend and had done nothing wrong, but you needed to get yourself in the right headspace to properly play the game.

apparently you weren't the only one who was off their game. barcelona's backline was a bit shoddy, allowing for you to get an early goal in. your teammates crowded around you to celebrate, but all you could do was look smugly at ona. she turned away from you ad lucy comforted her, which was when your smugness was snuffed out.

"hey, keep your head in. we're in the lead, but it's not over yet," katie said as she ushered you back into position. the next time you had a chance for a break, it was stopped by a shady tackle from barcelona's captain. you tumbled onto the ground with a groan. somoething definitely felt a little off, but you wanted to play through the whole game.

"hey! what was that about?" you were surprised to see ona shouting at her own captain. the ref let the dirty tackle go, which seemed to infuriate ona a little bit.

"are you good to continue?" ella asked you. you nodded as you dusted yourself off and resumed playing. she didn't like you were being quiet, especially after something like that happened. ella knew the tells for when you were hurt, but you were seemingly moving just fine. you were already in a bad mood, so everybody assumed that the grimaces were from that.

things progressed quickly in the first half, both sides conceding a few goals. the game was high scoring, both teams just going back and forth. barcelona managed to pull ahead by one goal, giving a 3-2 scoreline. you were ready to tie the game up and give an extra one to push your team ahead. your first opportunity came as an assist to ella, who ran straight into your arms and gave you a kiss on the cheek.

ona was subbed out after that one, so she was sitting on the sidelines when you came in hot for what should have been the goal to give your team the lead. instead, the goalkeeper knocked it away for a corner kick. tensions were high as you pushed against several players. the cross came in almost directly to you and you headed it in, but in the process was knocked into the goal post by a barcelona player.

this time, it was impossible for the card not to be issued. you were cradling your head, completely unaware of the blood pouring from a cut on the side. ella and katie didn't even let you attempt to sit up as medics came with a stretcher. you were escorted off of the pitch, much to your dissatisfaction.

your head was stitched up, and afterwards, you failed the concussion test. there were talks of a hospital visit, but you refused it. you were escorted by one of the reserves to the locker room to get cleaned up and changed out of your kit, the shirt of which was soaked with blood.

"(y/n), there's someone to see you." you weren't quite sure who you had expected to see while you waited for your team to finish getting ready to leave. all you wanted to do was go back to the hotel and sulk a little, even if you knew that nobody would have let you fall asleep. you thought that maybe keira was worried about you, but you didn't expect to see lucy standing there waiting for you.

"i don't need much time, maybe just a minute," lucy said. she seemed sort of nervous, which you definitely weren't used to. the two of you had been to a few camps together since she had reportedly begun dating ona, all of them having been very awkward and tense. at first, she thought that it was because of your friendship with keira, but then ona had spilled the beans about your relationship in manchester.

"go on," you said curtly.

"ona is beside herself worrying about you, and i can't believe i'm saying this, but you should go talk to her. we were supposed to be on a short break, but i can't let things go back to normal between us, not when i know how she feels about you," lucy told you. she was playing with her fingers as she kicked at the floor.

"what are you saying?" you asked her.

"technically, i'm not saying anything if anybody asks. just, go talk to ona and comfort her because i've tried and you're the only person she cares about right now." lucy pushed you towards barcelona's locker room, where ona was crouched outside with her head in her hands.

"hey." you nudged at ona, who looked up at you in surprise. she immediately stood up straight and pulled you in for a hug. you let her have that, but pulled away when she tried to kiss you. "ona, you and lucy."

"we're on a break. we've been on a break since you guys qualified," ona admitted. you knew what that meant in ona's mind. she knew that she'd be seeing you again, that maybe there would be a chance for a good reunion. instead, things seemed to be nearly catastrophic. "i was hoping that we could spend some time together, or at least talk."

"ona, just because your girlfriend here is fine with you fucking around with me, doesn't mean that i am. we're not together, i'm here for a game, not to hook up. it's not like that anymore, it hasn't been like that since you left." the reminder of how things ended was not something that ona had been expecting. "i'm not yours anymore, you can't expect anything from me."

"i didn't expect you to come home with me. i just miss you. it's hard being apart from the woman you love," ona said. you scoffed, and instead of getting mad, ona just doubled down with the sappiness. "just because we're not together anymore doesn't mean that i stopped loving you."

"i'm not yours to love, ona. you have lucy. we had a chance to get back together and instead, you fuck the first woman who looks at you with sad eyes." your words felt a bit harsh, but they seemed to get the point across. ona put her hands up in surrender and walked back into her locker room, now upset for an entirely different reason.

#woso x reader #woso imagine #woso fanfics #ona batlle x reader #ona batlle imagine

[partycatty]

Right hear me out on the new johnny skin

Please can you write something for this ugly bitch the shock worn off and now im delusional

(Im sorry for asking for this he just looks so stupid i couldnt not)

I HATE YOU FOR REMINDING ME OF THIS ALLGAHJGIAKG

johnny cage > carrot

oh my god he looks like a carrot

warnings: look at him.

[ masterlist ]

you're sitting on johnny's couch, as it's become a regular occurrence for you to waste your time in his home. your phone becomes your best friend nearly every time, as his career of being a celebrity commonly rips his attention from you more than you're happy with. your bubbling frustration with the situation dies down when you hear his front door unlock.

"babe," he calls through the cracked door. his voice is high pitched, like he's hiding something and ashamed about it. "i-i need you to do me a favor."

"yeah?" you reply, eyes still transfixed on your phone for the moment.

"i lost a bet," he shamefully admits. "and i need you to not laugh. if you laugh, i will die."

"you'll die?" you repeat, now intrigued by whatever he's on about. he falls silent, the door barely opening more.

"baby," he tries to sound sweet but it sounds closer to him being on the verge of tears. "is it true... that thing... where like, you lose feelings if your man gets one bad haircut?"

oh, no.

"depends," you shrug, making your way to the door. "if you buzzed it, i won't be able to look at you until it grows back."

"i didn't... buzz it," he mutters. "it's... please don't laugh."

his dodging is starting to confuse and annoy you, so you walk over and pull the door completely open. the sight in front of you pulls a horrified gasp, which then turns into amusement like you've never seen. johnny's hair was gone on the sides, and a vomit-green wisp sat on top. johnny frowns with large eyes. it kind of reminds you of that really sad hamster meme. maybe if you focused enough you could imagine sad violin music at the scene.

"jo—" your attempt at saying his name comfortingly is ripped apart when a snort creeps up on you, and you slap a hand over your mouth. tears well up in your eyes as you fight for your life to not laugh.

"don't," he pleads, arms flopping to his sides. "don't laugh."

you let out a cackle through your hand, slapping another hand over it in a stupid attempt to hold it in.

"it's not funny—" in a while, you think, it wouldn't be. sure, he has the haircut, but you're the one looking at it regularly. "it's not funny."

"you're laughing. i will die."

"how in the genuine fuck did this come to be." your eyes feel like they're going to pop out of your skull from straining yourself so hard. johnny can't even look at you as he explains.

"kung lao and i made a bet that i could cut more fruit than him with his hat."

"you bet your appearance on a hat that's not yours."

"it didn't look that hard! it's a sharp hat!"

"okay, so how did the... haircut come to be??"

"he..." johnny rubs his face, groaning. "he had me walk into a barber and told the guy to fuck my shit up. he said that to the barber. oh my god i look like an idiot, don't i."

"you..." you search for something, anything to compliment him on. your eyes settle on his orange button-up and you stifle a snort. "you kind of look like a carrot."

johnny pulls his head up to meet your eyes. "what."

"it's... it's kinda cute," you murmur with the most strained grin of your life. you step forward and grab the entirety of the hair left on his head, tugging upward. "it's like... plucking you from the soil."

"ow. you're an asshole," he adds, not entirely serious. you try so hard to keep it together, so hard. but his furrowed brows, frown, and carrot-coordinated outfit finally make you snap. you double over in laughter, similar to a hyena. it is quite literally the funniest thing you'd ever seen in your entire life and you laugh so hard you lose your breath.

"IT'S NOT FUNNY!" johnny pouts, stomping his foot and crossing his arms while you howl and slap him around as you try to ground yourself. "I LOOK LIKE A DUMBASS."

"OH MY GOD I'M LOSING IT, I'M GONNA THROW UP— YOU LOOK LIKE A CARROT —"

"STOP SAYING THAT."

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #johnny cage #mk1 #johnny cage x reader #marley writes ☆

[jkslipppiercing]

Bumblebee teaser | jjk

• summary: Jeon Jungkook was your high school bully. What are you gonna do when your parents are forcing you to marry him as the country's most well-known CEO?

• pairing: ceo!jk x reader, high school bully!jk (more to come in upcoming chapters cuz i dont wanna spoil anything.)

• genre: enemies to lovers, slowburn, high school bully to lover, arranged marriage, CEO/billionare romance, marriage of convenience.

• warnings: a little cursing, not much since it's a teaser, more to come in upcoming chapters.

• WC: 0.99k

taglist form (please fill in the form if you want to be added to my taglist ♡)

index.

previous/next

Mythical; his beauty one of pure magnificence. Who is he? Who does he work for? What’s his name? What does he do for a living?  Well, considering where you were, it wasn’t that hard to guess.

Your father is the CEO of HG Enterprise. A company worth over 2 billion dollars- as he had mentioned before- which is pretty impressive for a lingerie business. After the mentioned company had passed a milestone just two days ago, your father wanted to plan an event in honor of celebrating 50 years of HG. He claims the company as his baby, and it’s only fair to go all out on a party, just like this one.

Over 10,000 people have come to this celebration, and you, as the CEO's daughter, are responsible for keeping the guests company. Surely, your parents’ task is harder because greeting 10,000 people isn’t as easy as it sounds. For goodness sake, it doesn’t even sound possible!

Your night would’ve been more interesting had the guests been more intriguing. They either go on about their mansions with great pride over their money, or they utter bad dad jokes all the time. Just as your mother calls your name for the third time, you’re jolted out of your trance by an arm elbowing you in the gut.

“Y/N! Mom has called your name 3 times by now!” Your younger brother hurriedly sputters.

“First of all, ow…”, You rub the side of your ribs where your brother just elbowed you and glare at him. He smiles sheepishly in return, and says, “Sorry about that. You weren’t answering me, and why was that anyway?” his brows scrunch in confusion.

“I…um…I was lost in thought.” Yeah right. More like salivating over that hotshot guy you’ve been staring at this whole time- your brother doesn’t need to know that though. He looks at you unconvinced, his brows raised in question. “Never mind. Where’s mom?”

You’re making your way to your mother when your phone chimes with a new notification. You reach for your purse to fish your phone out- slam!

You screw your eyes shut and get ready for the impact of your butt hitting the cold marble floor, but instead, you feel a hand snake around your waist. As he pulls you towards him, the position has you flush against his body as your breath gets caught in your throat at the sensation. You open your eyes to be met with…oh my god!

You scramble to push yourself away from the guy when you lose your footing, and almost kiss the floor, again. He grabs your waist more firmly this time, pulls you to him, and chuckles.

“We wouldn’t want a beauty like you on the floor tonight, would we?” his breath fans over your ear as he whispers.

Your face flushes with major embarrassment as you try to conceal it with your hands. His hand leaves your waist only to circle around your wrists and pull your hands down. He then brushes a stray strand away from your face and tucks it behind your ear as he places distance between the both of you.

He offers his hand in greeting, “I’m Jeon Jungkook, CEO of Jeon Modeling Agency. Pleasant to make your acquaintance.” Jeon Jungkook? THE Jeon Jungkook? You’re fucked. So, utterly, fucked.

Jeon Jungkook became a CEO at the young age of 27. Only a year older than you, but he was still capable of managing a modeling company on his own after his dad’s unfortunate passing. With his late father no longer around to direct him, he was on his own, yet his decisions concerning the evolution of the mentioned company put the agency at an impressive top 10 in the country. Not only was the man in front of you the CEO of one of the most remarkable agencies in the world, but he was also your high school bully. You couldn’t recognize him at all, and all the previous attraction you had towards him dissipated into thin air.

“Y/L/N Y/N. That ring a bell, bumblebee?” The nickname dripped poisonous venom as it rolled off your tongue.

Blood drained from Jungkook’s face as his smirk dropped. All evidence from his earlier flattery evaporated, leaving him glaring at you. If looks could kill, you’d be 6 feet under.

Bumblebee was a nickname he bullied you with in high school. From day 1, he saw you wearing bumblebee socks, and the nickname stuck with you all the way. In class, in the hallways, just everywhere, and in front of everyone, he always used it to address you. You hated it, but nevertheless, he would still use it to pick on you every single day throughout the whole school year. You used to plead with him to stop using it, but he wouldn’t budge. Nothing worked. He would never stop picking on you, and you’ve always hated him for it.

Just as you're indulging in the glare-off between you and jungkook, your mom interrupts; "Oh, Y/N! I suppose you've already met Jungkook?" She smiles as she gives jungkook a once-over and looks at you right after.

You come back to your senses as you nod at your mom. "I have, and i already wish i hadn't-" Jungkook cuts you off as he turns towards Mrs. Y/L/N and beams at her, "You look beautiful tonight, Mrs. Y/L/N. Y/N must take after you!"

Your mother swoons over Jungkook's words, completely ignoring your previous comment.

"Why, thank you, young man! I trust she'll be in good hands..." Your mother glances at you then hesitates, "I suppose you haven't mentioned the 'big surprise' to Y/N yet, have you?"

What "big surprise"?

"What are you talking about?" You take turns glancing at Jungkook and your mom. You scrunch your brows in confusion. Your mother never mentioned anything about a surprise, and what does Jungkook out of all people have to do with it?

What on earth?

"Y/N, you and Jungkook are getting married in 6 months."

What. The. Fuck?

next

#jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook ff #bts fanfiction #enemies to lovers #jungkook x reader #jjk

[boonsmoon]

Would you do a Mu Qing from TCGF fluff request Xie Lian (and by extension San Lang) attempt to play matchmaker between Mu Qing and his god/dess crush (cause Mu Qing refuses to admit liking them despite them being the person he’s closest to since meeting each other)?

I fell in love with this idea instantly A Christmas special for the lovelies Btw for creativity purposes, you can be the goddess of literally whatever

Request Masterlist Mu Qing x f!reader Genres:🎉🌸💞🧪

Kiss of Winter

To the untrained eye you would seem like a subordinate or nuisance to the cold-hearted god; however, this couldn't be further from the truth. You would considered yourself a close friend to Mu Qing, you have known each other for hundreds of years after all.

Though when asked, Mu Qing would refer to you as "a valuable acquaintance," and boy did it hurt to say this. Luckily, there was a very observant god who decided he had watched you two dance around each other long enough.

The holidays were approaching and Xie Lian thought this would be a great time to force persuade both of you to be in each other's company more often. So, with some hard thought planning and input from San Lang, the boys decided on a special celebration for the gods.

Now considering all these higher beings actually have standards, lots of works will have to be put into this. And who better to ask than someone that'll be excited to attend?

"I can't think of anyone more fitting for this job than you," Xie Lian praised, hoping to get you on the project. Everything has to be perfect if he's gonna get you and Mu Qing together.

You hesitated for a moment, "I've been getting many more prayers recently, though I suppose those can be put on hold..." There was a look of pondering on your face, weighing the pros and cons of what this could do to your status among deities and humans.

"Don't you have subordinates? If anything important happens they'll surely yap to you about it," you tensed at San Lang's words. Subordinates yes, deserving of disrespect no.

Unfortunately though, you must admit he was right. Your subordinates were always more alert than you, even when it came to your own temples. You sighed, "fine, I will help you prepare for this celebration."

After tireless days? Weeks? Of work, you all finally finished the super secret super awesome holiday party. Now you may be wondering would Mu Qing even come to the celebration? The answer is yes, but only if you invite him.

And let's be honest, most of the Heaven Official's don't like Xie Lian and San Lang very much, so making you the messenger was common sense from the beginning. So after running around and inviting everyone you saw, it finally came to the one and only.

"It is a holiday that comes each year, what makes this one special?" So far, so bad, he doesn't seem very keen on attending your greatest achievement yet.

"Becauseee we put effort into enjoying it this year. It'll be fun, I promise!" You pleaded with Mu Qing, hoping he'd say yes. "I worked on it the most anyways, so you don't have to worry about Xie Lian's 'bad taste.'"

He crossed his arms, contemplating if that was really a good enough reason to attend. "And when did I say you have good taste? It is likely just as bad considering you dare interact with him." OW OKAY THEN.

You folded your hands and begged, "if it's not I swear to never invite you again! Just please come this once..." This is what convinced him, the pain that in the future deities will get to enjoy your hard-work and he'll be left out. No one could ever appreciate your efforts like he can.

"Fine! I will agree this once..." That was a lie, he will make sure to agree in the future, even if it means forcing himself to attend a celebration that involved Xie Lian and San Lang.

The day of the celebration was fantastic, several deities appeared, many complimenting you on your efforts. You most oversaw everything that was happening, what you didn't see; however, was Xie Lian spying on you and Mu Qing while talking.

He took this as his chance to put the real plan into action. After getting a signal from San Lang that the mistletoe was hanging up a few feet from you two, Xie Lian basically sprinted into the both of you, pushing you under the plant.

Mu Qing turned around, visibly angry at Xie Lian, "would it hurt to watch where you move?!" This caused Xie Lian to put his hands up in defeat and shuffle away.

While rubbing your head to try and soothe the pain, you noticed something bright above you. Realizing it was mistletoe your face got darker. This caused Mu Qing to seem slightly concerned, questioning what was the problem. You only pointed up, and when he took notice his face also darkened.

"We can simply move and ignore this tradition, it's not that important anyways-" He was interrupted by you however, "rules are rules, Mu Qing, we can't ignore them. Plus, I kinda like this tradition."

He tried to get over the initial embarrassment and decided it would be easier to dive into the kiss. What would've been a fleeting moment to others felt like an eternity to you both.

Pulling away you could both tell by the look in each other's eyes that the feeling was mutual. And hidden somewhere else was a very proud and excited Xie Lian.

this was a very beefy fic

not that i'm complaining i liked it

anyways, happy holidays everyone! may all be well for the new year

#tian guan ci fu #tgcf #heaven official's blessing #tgcf x reader #tian guan ci fu x reader #heaven official's blessing x reader #mu qing x reader #mu qing

[finelinevogue]

distant promises

summary - Bucky has been on a mission for a long time and you miss him

warnings: insomnia, long-distance relationship, swearing, Christmas sadness (only slightly)

pairing: boyfriend!bucky x reader

word count: 2k

Bucky had been gone for 6 months now.

He was currently on a mission in the French Alps, taking down some military base that had connections to HYDRA. The mission meant a lot to him, not thanks to having been tested on and tortured with over a multitude of years. It had taken him a while to be comfortable with who he was and rid himself of the Winter Soldier. You could see him coming accepting himself for who he truly was more each day. He wasn't afraid of who he was anymore and it was an honour to have helped him through that. 

It was currently 1 in the morning and you still had yet to fall asleep. You had been finding it harder and harder to fall asleep as the months went by without Bucky. It certainly didn't help that you were taking extra shifts at Starbucks, in order to pay off some debts you owed to banks and Bucky. 

Bucky kept telling you to cut back on the shifts and let him pay off some of your debts you owed him too much already that you couldn’t justify anymore. 

So insomnia it was.

You honestly couldn't think of what you'd done to deserve him.

You honestly couldn't think of what you'd done to deserve him.

Turning in bed to check your phone, you started scrolling through your Instagram to like photos on your dashboard. There were some pictures of friends who were out clubbing, singing Christmas songs at the top of their lung. There were also some celebrities posting magazine shoots and as always there were the cat accounts that you religiously followed.

You were scrolling and liking for about ten minutes before you had an incoming call from Bucky.

"Hey Buck." You sounded surprised that he'd called you. Normally it was too risky to call since he didn’t want anyone to track his phone and give away his location, but here he was.

"Hi babe." You could hear the smile in his voice.

"What's up?" You asked as you snuggled further under the warmth of your fresh, clean, duvet.

"I saw you were active on Instagram, but I know it’s really early morning where you are so I just wanted to make sure everything is okay?" 

Knowing that Bucky kept tabs on what time it was where you were was just one of the small things he did which meant a whole lot more than anything his money could buy you. 

"Yeah everything's good.” Buck stayed silent as you answered, knowing there was more to it. “It’s, um, just that I wish you were here with me." 

"Oh darling, I miss you so much. I promise you it won't be long before I see you next." Now it was your turn to remain silent. "Y/N? Please don't cry darling." 

“Sorry.” You sniffled, getting yourself worked up over something so trivial.

"Hey, no. Don’t apologise. I have to go really soon love, but I'm not going to hang up until I know you're alright."

"No need to worry about me Buck. I'll be alright." You tried to say as happily as possible, but you knew Bucky would catch on that what you were saying was far from the truth. 

"Babe, you know I worry about you constantly." He laughed.

“Like literally ALL the time.” You heard Sam shout in the background, making you laugh.

"Is Sam there?" You asked Bucky.

“Yeah. Y’wanna say hi?”

"Mhm." 

"Y/N I can’t deal with this emotional softie anymore." Sam said without a hello.

“Emotional softie? Are we sure we’re talking about the same man?” You teased Bucky, knowing that he most likely had you on speaker phone.

“The bionic-dude right?” Sam made himself laugh and you heard a grunt from what sounded like Bucky punching Sam. You rolled your eyes over their stupid playfulness, before Bucky came back to the phone.

"Yeah, that's enough of that.”

“Surprised you two have kept each other alive.” You laughed to Bucky, eyes feeling heavier now that you’d safely heard from him.

“Barely.” You shuffled again in bed. “Okay darling, I have to go now. As much as I don't want to I'm gonna have to love you and leave you. Just promise me you'll try and get some sleep?"

“As long as you promise to come home for Christmas.”

"I promise." 

“Then I promise too.”

"I love you." Bucky just kissed the microphone to make it sound like he was really kissing you. You kissed yours back and you both stayed on the phone for another minute as you wrapped up your goodbye, before you attempted some better sleep.

•••••

Needless to say, when you woke up the next morning you felt awful.

There was still no surprise Bucky waking up next to you. There was a lack of smell on his side of the bed where he should be sleeping. There was no mess on his side of the room or whistling from a silly tune he’d make up. 

It was going to be another day without him and with only a few days until Christmas, you were starting to lose hope on spending it with him. 

Your scheduled alarm went off at 7am for your morning shift. You aspired to open up your own cafe one day and so you wanted to get the knowledge of how business operates and be able to tackle customer experience first hand. That’s why you worked in Starbucks. You were also taking an online degree in finance and business, to help you for when you open your cafe.

You got ready by putting on your black jeans and the Starbucks t-shirt. You threw on your basic vans and grabbed your bag before going out the front door to work. Starbucks was about a 30 minute walk from your shared house. Normally Bucky would drive you, because that's the gentleman he is, but because he hasn't been here you've been walking to work. It’s mostly a pleasant walk, but you hate having so much time to yourself and your thoughts.

Your manager told you that you'd be managing the shop floor today, meaning you had to give all the employees individual jobs, whilst help make the drinks and also be in charge of the tills’ money. It was going to be a stressful, but worth the experience. 

Plus, anything to keep your mind off Bucky and how he was doing

It had been about 2 hours into your shift and you'd managed to get through with no complaints, so you’d given yourself a break. You weren’t feeling hungry just yet though, so you just got a cappuccino and went into the back office for your 20 minute break.

Not even 3 minutes into your break one of the employees came in.

"Hi Y/N. Sorry to disturb you but there's a customer out front who wants a manager to complain to." 

This was a reason why you didn’t want to be a manager all the time, because you were really bad for getting upset when someone shouted at you. 

"Ok. Thanks Nina. I'll be there in 2 seconds." You wiped your hand around your mouth to make sure there's no froth left behind and then went back out front. "Nina, where are they?" You asked her, as you couldn't see anyone obvious who looked like they wanted to complain.

"Umm..." She scanned the room. "Oh, that gentleman sat by the window over there." She pointed to a man who had his hoodie slightly pulled up and was looking out the window. 

Walking over, you wiped your clammy hands on your red apron because as much as you put on a brave face sometimes social interactions gave you anxiety. You took a deep breathe before being prepared to get screamed at. Why anyone would want to scream and shout this close to Christmas you didn’t understand. Where was the Christmas joy? 

"Hi. I'm Y/N. My colleague said you had a complaint?" You asked politely. 

"Yeah I just wanted to complain that this cup of coffee is not nearly as good as the one that my girlfriend makes at home. So, why is that?" He turned around to you and took down the hood from his head and sunglasses off to look directly at you.

You took a step back, reaching for the counter to support yourself from fainting in disbelief.

Bucky was in your Starbucks making a "complaint".

You covered your face with your hands as you sunk down to the floor crying. You were so shocked that he was actually here that you didn't even know how to act. He laughed at as he stood up from his chair and slowly walked over to where you were crouched down on the floor.

You stood up and looked around to see customers and colleagues smiling and Nina was filming the whole thing. "You knew! Oh for fuck sake!" You cry-laughed, as you pointed at Nina.

"Surprise?" 

You just shook your head. You could hear Bucky laughing at the whole situation - a laugh that you'd missed more than you'd allowed yourself to believe.

"Do I not get an ecstatic run, jump and a hug from my girlfriend?" Bucky joked, holding his arms wide open for you to be engulfed in.

"You're a knob!" You joked at him, shaking your head because you couldn't get over he was actually in front of you.

"Sam said you'd say that!" 

You slapped your hand on your forehead when you actually realised what was going on. "What the actual fuck? You're really here?"

"I'm worried it's taken you this long to realise it, darling!" His arms were still wide open. 

You laughed as you ran and jumped into his warm and loving embrace. You wrapped your arms around his neck and legs around his waist, whilst he wrapped his arms firmly around your waist to support you from falling. You started to cry again whilst inhaling his sweet cinnamon scent. He just smelt like home. "I'm going to have go on missions more often if it means I can surprise you like this!" He said, but you were too busy crying over the fact your best friend was back in your arms.

"You're actually here." You whispered into his neck.

"I am, love. I am right here." He whispered back to you, pressing a multitude of kisses to the side of your face. "I'm always going to be here." You didn't care that he was being the stereotypical smushy boyfriend, right now you were just glad you were back with each other.

You let each other go. Bucky wiped your tears away with the sleeve of his hoodie and kissed your forehead.

"I've still got like 2 hours of my shift left." You said, wondering what he's going to do now.

"Yeah, fuck no. I spoke to your manager and she was more than happy for you to go home early. With me, obviously." 

"Really?" Your eyes lit up over the thought of spending the rest of the day glued next to him.

"Let's go home and get some well deserved sleep for a change." He took your hand and squeezed it, just once more for reassurance that he was home with you.

#bucky barnes blurbs #bucky barnes fight #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fluff #finelinevogue ficmas 2022 #finelinevogue ficmas #ficmas

[ghost-proofbaby]

SO SCARLET (IT WAS MAROON)

CHAPTER FIVE: HOLY GROUND

I LEFT A NOTE ON THE DOOR WITH THE JOKE WE MADE, AND THAT WAS THE FIRST DAY. AND DARLING, IT WAS GOOD NEVER LOOKING DOWN.

☆ pairings: rockstar!eddie munson x fem!reader

☆ warnings: no use of y/n, strong language, angst, minors dni

☆ WC: 8K+

☆ A/N: trying something new in the formating here amongst the chapter - please bear with me <3

thank you to my love @hellfire--cult for the divider!

masterlist

“I’m sure you’ll find a way.” 

Oh, how you realize you’ll come to regret that taunt. 

The first week of working on organizing Corroded Coffin’s single release party is easy enough. Most of the communication is restricted to Matt and vendors, beginning the process of assessing venues as you start your list of all that will be needed for the party. An actual location, an open bar, entire stage crews. Matt is able to provide a few connections here and there, people in the live music industry that owe him a favor as he had so kindly put it. You had your spreadsheet of contacts that was growing with each passing day, you had several venues that looked as though they would work well for the occasion — the only thing you had yet to do was go over options with the band or properly reach out for their list of requirements for their night of celebration. 

You had tried to be sneaky about it. Get around asking for any of their emails, continue living comfortably in the radio silence of not hearing from Eddie. And then you’d made the fatal mistake of asking Matt if he could gather the list of things the boys may want.

And of course, as any sane person would do, he had only forwarded the email to all of the boys’ professional emails and replied: I’ve CC’d our rockstars. I’ve instructed them to personally send you any requests they may have.

Fuck.

Eddie’s email sat at the lead of the list of CC’d emails, almost teasing you as it stared back at you from your laptop screen. A full week, you had avoided this. Even if he could have gotten your email from Matt, he hadn’t, and like a fool, you’d assumed that meant you were in the clear. 

So much for that.

You compose and erase multiple emails until you decide that if the boys want to reach out, they can. There was no need for you to make first contact; they now had your email, a bait set for them to initiate a conversation by sending you their lists. If Eddie wanted to reach out to you, he had the perfect excuse to do so. 

For a few hours, you don’t hear anything, and instead of sighing in relief, it only puts you further on edge. You want him to just get it over with. To send you an email, preferably an impersonal list that allows you to continue your job. No relations, no interferences. You didn’t know it, but the Universe was already laughing in your face. 

The first email from any of the boys comes from Jeff.

A simple list, just as you’d requested. There was nothing outrageous; he’d recommended an open bar, asked for a specific brand of whiskey if possible, and thanked you for all you were doing. Simple, kind, appreciative. Jeff, it seemed, had stayed as humble as you remembered him. 

The next email came from Gareth. Less simple, but still just as expected.

Nerds (the CANDY) of any kind. That vodka infused whipped cream (does it even get you drunk?), the softest robe money can buy. Actually, can I get matching house shoes with that robe? Can we also have some cigars in the dressing room? (We are getting a dressing room… right?) 

You’re so busy snorting at his requests, rolling your eyes but also losing yourself in the warmth to know he also hadn’t changed much, you don’t see the next email come through.

It was comforting. You knew Eddie had changed — more than you could ever wrap your head around — but these boys you once knew seemed to still be connected to their roots. You read the requests and recall the times you’d spent in Gareth’s hot garage over the summer, sitting on warm concrete as you cheered overly excited, even occasionally standing up to jokingly mosh to their rehearsals. Sweltering summer nights between friends and beers that lost their chill far too quickly, laughter that echoed down the driveway and out into the empty streets of Hawkins. Nostalgia burns away at you, sitting restlessly in your chest as you let yourself simmer in it for the first time since…. since moving to New York, really. Even in that first year, life had moved so quickly, you and Eddie never took the time to ruminate in your past too often. If you did, it had caught you off guard, always fleeting to make room for the next uncertain experience. 

You two had been so busy running away from your hometown, you’d never stopped to consider what you had given up in the process. 

A soft sigh escapes your lips, and you swear you can still taste the shitty Miller Lite, the only brand that seemed to occupy the Emerson’s fridge, on your tongue as you exit the email and scribble on the notepad before you. Even if Gareth had been joking around with some of his requests, you’d take them seriously — besides, the mental image of Gareth in a plush robe and fluffy slippers to match made you laugh. You were thinking about your past, and for once, you were laughing. This part wasn’t a stain, wasn’t something you had scrubbed away at in a haste to make it fade from your ledger. This was the part you should have been lingering on. 

And linger you did until you glanced up to find the next unread email.

Eddie. 

[email protected]. You could fool yourself, tell yourself that email is from anyone else, but you know it isn’t. It isn’t even the email that had been CC’d. It’s his personal email. 

Your mouse hovers over the highlighted and unopened message, heart dropping with each passing second. There’s a small preview of his message, but your vision blurs just enough that you can’t make out the small words. 

Is this how you were always doomed to live out the rest of your days? To freeze, to panic, to malfunction at every slightest thing that has to do with the man you left to begin with? Would he always pull such visceral reactions from you? 

In an act of bravery, you press the tip of your finger against the smooth mouse pad, a muted click that doesn’t reach your ears signaling the official opening of the email. All of your hopes are shattered as you realize it’s clearly too short to be a list similar to the other boys, a simple response that you could acknowledge and move on from. 

No, he sends something that specifically calls for you to play with him. To reply and interact, to give him what he wants. To talk. 

Two fucking words. Two loaded, vexing, provocative words that call to you with the titillating grin you imagine he wore as he typed them. 

Your fingers work faster than your brain, slamming away at the keys hurriedly without thought as you type your least professional email to date. 

The bottom of the email is automatically signed off with your work signature, including your direct personal line. If you had half the mind, you would have erased that bit of information to keep it from Eddie. It even has your actual signature, a mature one that differs from how you used to scrawl your name atop of schoolwork in high school, that you had scanned into your computer after having gone through the painful process of rewriting it what must have been a thousand times. No one had let you in on the fact that most other corporate monsters and coworkers just used one of the sloping fonts available to them. No one had shown you the ropes – you’d just assumed that it was the normal, to go so above and beyond. 

Another brick in the foundation you’d built for yourself, separate from Eddie. Another attempt to change from the girl he’d once loved. 

You’re shocked when a reply comes very quickly. You hadn’t even clicked out of the thread before it entered your inbox.

You try to channel fury, years of irritation and calluses you’d built up against him. But your chest has been weakened by that brief moment of nostalgia that Jeff and Gareth had triggered, and it’s a fruitless battle when he sends another message rapidly. He’s treating it like casual texting rather than stiff business interactions. 

Your entire body flushes, a shock to your system coming that brings you out of the allusive hypnosis easily. 

My emails are monitored. They’re going to see that we know each other. I’m going to get fucking fired. 

You steady your breathing and try to stave off the anxiety. It’ll be fine; Lydia has no reason to comb through your emails at this time. Nothing said would trigger any bells or whistles to cause concern. It’s fine. It’ll be fine. It has to be. 

You wish you had it in you to see red. He had an incomprehensible amount of nerve to be asking for your personal email all because he refused to use his professional email. 

Soft. You’d worked on becoming a hardened version of your old self for two years, and all hard work was quickly going down the drain as you remained too soft for him. It was easy, too. All the rough edges had melted so discreetly somewhere amongst the in between. 

You think he’s dropped the topic of your personal email, but you should know better. Not even mere seconds after you receive the first email, brimming with nonchalance and a teasing tone that has no room between the two of you, another message comes through.

Good to see he’s still annoying and persistent as ever, I suppose. 

He’s all bark, no bite. That’s what you convince yourself. There’s no way he could find your personal email, a plethora of power and connections at his fingertips or not. Even if he could, it would take him ages and more effort than it would be worth. 

All bark. No bite.

You hadn’t realized just how quick and consistent his replies had maintained until you’re met with silence. You wait impatiently, biting at your fingernails as you await for another one of his responses. The more the time passes, the excessive minutes piling up in the quiet midday hum of your midtown apartment, the more noticeable Eddie’s online silence becomes.

No, you think suddenly and strongly. No, I am not doing this. 

You refuse to sit around like this and succumb so easily. All your half-healed scars thrum with aches deep-rooted within the skin you’ve grown over the last two years, screaming out in phantom pains with a reminder of what happened to you the last time you’d let yourself sit around and wait on the boy on the end of the line. Every lonely night, every tear shed, every beat of your bleeding heart — you cannot be doing this again, and not so soon. 

Quickly, you click out of your email tab and back onto the list of vendors you needed to contact for the bar commodities. Distract, distract, distract. You comb through your list. Some vendors seemed to hold more potential than others, more attainable in the grand scheme of it all. For the first time ever in your very short career of event planning, budget wasn’t the issue.

Eddie’s reputation was.

But you’re not thinking about Eddie. No, your focus was anywhere but him right now. You weren’t thinking about him, or his new cologne, or his new rings, or his new life-

Just as you pick up your cell phone to start your calls down the list, a notification pings.

Only seven minutes had passed. Seven minutes, and your phone is suddenly alight with a small but terrifying notification from your personal email.

New email from [email protected]!

Oh, fuck.

Your thumb hesitates over the tiny banner before you release the breath you were sure you’d been holding the entire seven minutes. It shouldn’t have taken him such little time. You expected it to realistically take him a few hours, all your anxious waiting aside. 

There had been only one fatal flaw in your taunting — well, technically there were several becoming more apparent as the seconds ticked by, but only one so glaringly obvious. Your personal email address. You had forgotten.

You hadn’t changed it since high school, since moving to New York, since meeting and since leaving Eddie. 

[email protected]. 

The stupid inside joke haunts you. 

“Why does your email even matter?” Eddie huffed from where he was sprawled out on your bed, tossing around some bouncy ball he’d acquired a few nights before during dinner at a local pizza joint, “No one even uses email anymore.” 

He tossed the ball of rubber into the air once more, a blur of the rainbow swirl pattern whirring too close to your ceiling for comfort. Your focus waned from your laptop for just a moment as you suddenly shot out a hand, attempting to intercept the ball. 

No use. Eddie used one hand to swat yours away, the other happily capturing the toy in his palm with a muted thud. 

“Nuh, uh, uh,” he drawled as he looked at you with his boyish grin, eyes sparkling as his fingers closed loosely around his prize, “If you wanted one so badly the other night, you should have also coughed up a quarter.” 

You snorted, “Are you really proud of that? You spent a whole twenty five cents on a hunk of rubber, Rockstar.” 

“A hunk of rubber you’re now trying to steal from me.”

“I’m not trying to steal it,” you scowled, “I’m trying to focus here. Emails are important, despite your pessimism. Something my English teacher said about professionalism.” 

“You’re really going to listen to that dinosaur? The old O’Donnel-saurus?” Eddie mused, chuckling beneath his breath at his own joke.

You refused to crack a smile in return, or show any recognition at the awful joke, but your chest still warmed. The smoke of your affection for the boy in front of you unfurled, thick enough to choke you up a few extra seconds but thin enough to not suffocate. Never suffocate — it was a time in which you could never imagine your love for Eddie Munson being your downfall. It was a wispy and adaptable type of adoration, just like the smoke that flows off of the end of the incense you’d taken to burning in your room lately in lieu of candles. 

“It’d do you well to also come up with a professional sounding email, you know,” you hummed. You were mere seconds away from shoving your laptop away and joining Eddie in his relaxed position, maybe even laying your head on his chest or shoulder and bringing up the idea of a late afternoon nap you knew he’d never turn down, “Can’t go around emailing important people when you’re a rockstar with your Dungeons & Dragons nickname.” 

“One,” he held up a stern finger, “Like I said — I don’t use email. And two, I’m very happy with my email, sweetheart. I’ll probably email the damn President with that name. Life’s too short and we’re too young to get a stick up our ass about shit like that.” 

You reached out and wrapped your palm around his finger, tugging it down. Unlike with the ball, he let you capture him in your grasp, “I don’t have a stick up my ass about it.” 

“Yes, you do.”

“No, I don’t.” 

“Then make it something funny,” he wiggled his brows, “Make your email something stupid and live a little.” 

“A little?” you scoffed, “I think I live plenty for the both of us. You’ve put me through at least three lifetimes worth of stress before I’ve hit twenty. I probably have grey hairs already.” 

Your hand curled around his pointer finger drops to your thigh, but doesn’t release him. The touch remained, ever constant, now more for comfort rather than defiance. And he let you continue to hold him, as if your touch was a luxury he was indulging in just as much as you were his. 

“Wanna check?” he taunted. He lifted up off his back for a microsecond, tugging your arm with his before the roll of your eyes had him falling back flat once more.

It was a losing battle, arguing with Eddie.

Your conjoined hands settled back atop your thigh as you sighed. Maybe Eddie had been right, and you were stressing out too much about this. He was right; you were young, and having a dumb email was a right of passage. Something to giggle at in your maturity when you’d provide it later down the road, a flash of your youth to keep close. 

Fuck professionalism, or whatever high horse O’Donnel had been on.

“Fine,” you huffed, “What do you suggest?” 

“… To check for grey hairs?”

“For my email, you idiot.” 

A bit more back and forth, a bit too raunchy of ideas that passed Eddie’s lips only to be rejected quickly with rough shakes of your head. His finger remained locked in your palm, at some point his knuckle wiggling between suggestions to stroke at your skin. 

“Sweetheart, you’re being too picky,” Eddie finally whined as you shot down yet another one of his ideas, “At this point, just make it something related to the band. You’ll probably be Corroded Coffin’s manager when we make it big, anyways.” 

“That sounds like a nightmare,” you murmured, even if you enjoyed the thought. You already had started to get a hang of wrangling the boys in your small town for menial tasks and day-to-day activities. But on a wider, professional scale? You could already feel the headache pressing into your temples. If they ever offered you the proposition, you wouldn’t have said no, but you certainly would have complained to no end. And definitely got grey hairs.

“Sweetheart.”

The repetition of the nickname froze you. Your eyebrows furrowed as the wheels in your brain turned and you looked down at your boy, the formulation of an idea that was combining both of Eddie’s suggestions suddenly.

“Why do you call me sweetheart?” 

Eddie was taken back by your question, face crumpling with confusion, “What?”

“Why do you call me sweetheart?” you repeated yourself as you finally let go of his finger and twisted to face him fully, laptop momentarily forgotten as your legs folded beneath you and pressed into your worn mattress, “Like, I call you Rockstar because I know you’ll be a rockstar someday. Already are technically, to me, but don’t let that go to your head,” you explained, smiling shyly as Eddie narrowed his eyes and shined his dimples at you, “So why do you call me sweetheart?”

He hardly had to think about it, although his answer came out as more of a question, “Because you’re my sweetheart?”

“That’s all?”

“Is this a trick question?” 

You nearly cackled at his hesitation, “It isn’t, I swear. Just… humor me.” 

This time, he took his time to carefully deliberate his answer, “Well, I guess because it just fits,” he paused, wide eyes catching yours as you lifted your brows in question, “You know? Cause you’re sweet like sugar, and you’ve got a heart of gold,” he grabbed up the hand that once held him and drew it into his lips, peppering kisses across your knuckles and fingertips, fighting a grin as he groveled, “There. Is that romantic enough to humor you?” 

“Almost.” 

You pulled your hand away despite the fact that you wanted to let him continue his display of affection. You would have laid around all day, letting Eddie Munson shower you in all the affection he had to give. But you really needed to create this email.

And now, you had the perfect name.

CORRODEDSUGAR.

You created the account quickly. Set everything up with ease before you proudly turned your screen to Eddie. 

“Corroded sugar?” he read outloud in a murmur as a smile twitched at the corner of his mouth, “Cute. But also, very metal. Very badass. I approve, Sugar.” 

A new nickname was born that day, to haunt you and taunt you at every corner. In soft mornings when he woke before you, his voice softly cooing ‘wake up, Sugar’ as he’d brush his nose along your jaw and attempt to awaken you with needy nuzzling. Amidst heated and passionate arguments had all in good fun while out with friends, where he knew you were right but the closest he’d come to admitting it would simply be ‘whatever you say, Sugar!’. He’d even once weaponized it against you during sacred moments, where his lips worshiped you as they trailed leisurely down the skin of your torso until he’d settled between your thighs, humming as he wrapped ringed fingers around your hips and whispered nothing more than the nickname. ‘Sugar’. He had sighed as if he were a starving man, and you were the plate of sweetness that would bring him back to life.

Sugar. A prayer, a promise, a reminder. 

You couldn’t remember the last time he’d called you that. Until now.

When you’d tried to reset, rebuild, remake yourself, it had been hard to figure out a new email address. Amongst all the changes and all the decisions to be made, choosing a new email just felt overwhelming. And you’d been foolish, clung to one last relic of your past like an estranged child fisting a blanket to sleep. 

The seven minutes suddenly makes crystal clear sense. 

Whether it had really been Eddie’s rockstar connections from his fame, or simply recalling a far away memory, you hadn’t made yourself a very hard person to find. And you never considered that your laziness would have a consequence like this. 

You don’t know what else to say. Your mind keeps reading over that silly five letter word, the bold lettering jumping off the page at you. All recollections of every time he’d ever called you that slip into the forefront of your brain, slapping away any concentrated thought. 

You’d had dreams of him calling you that again. A mixture of memories and fantasies that would wake you up in the months following your departure. Compared to the other dreams you’d had amongst those, they had been a sweet reprieve. Not a nightmare of Eddie with his lips pressed to another, or mournful dreams where you reached out to him only for him to become intangible smoke where your hand should have connected with his torso. They were one of your only dreams you had awoken from without immediate tears. 

They were the type of dreams where you’d awake, and for just a moment, you’d forgotten all that had happened. They’d twist you up in a blissful blanket of delusion that he was still yours, that you were still laying in a shared bed in that small apartment, that there was still a calendar on the wall with the date of his return marked with a scarlet heart. 

The tears would come later. Once the dreamy fog cleared, and your eyes opened up to see the unfamiliar space you had taken to calling home instead.

The two of you should be discussing the release party. He should be handing over a list of requests and you should be adding them to the same page that you’d copied down Gareth’s. 

You shouldn’t be doing this. 

Talking, like nothing happened. Having a playful conversation over email that reeked of the same make-believe that had clung to your dreams of Sugar. 

He won’t break the illusion, so you do.

Messaging him from this contact only reminds you of all that could have been. All the joking conversations back in Hawkins of your involvement with the band once they inevitably blew up, all the late nights where you’d been privy to a private show as he hunched over his guitar and hummed out melodies to new songs, all the bruises those once familiar hands had left and then caressed in the afterglow. 

For just a moment, you miss it all. 

For only a second, you wish he wore the same cologne and you wish you still signed your name as you had when you first met him. You wish for days of instability and the solid touch of his shoulders beneath your palms as you convince him to take a leap of faith on himself and the band. Dancing in a small apartment, falling asleep on the phone while he was a world away, quiet confessions of love to soothe the wound that distance made grow larger — for just a moment, you want it all back. Even the pain. Even the hurt you’d been burying alive for years.

Silence. Once again, he’s left you with static lines as the minutes pass and no new message is received. 

You think you liked it better when he was being inappropriately playful. 

At least then, he was saying something. Now, as he says nothing, you have to resort back to doing your job. You bring up a knee to rest your chin on as you adjust in your home office chair, clicking over to tabs of information on a physically small but well-known venue that had several different capacity options. Ranging from a small room that could hardly fit twenty five people to a rooftop set up with the ability to entertain several hundred people. Something about it had felt very Eddie to you; reclusive, with opportunity for an afterparty. Some odd mixture of who you once knew and who you’d seen flashes of through headlines and brief encounters. You hadn’t been given many guidelines from Matt to go off of, and when you’d questioned capacity size, he’d only brushed it off.

Just something smaller than the venues they play on tour.

Would Eddie even want this small of a venue? Looking over the venue’s website, you catch sight of the approximate occupancy limit for the “largest” stage room — 750 standing. What was Corroded Coffin’s new normal? Once upon a time, you were amongst a crowd that couldn’t even break double digits. But now, a show like this might sell out for them in five minutes flat. Hell, they could probably even sell out a thousand person capacity room. 

A ding sounds to signify a new email. 

For a second, you’re nonsensically relieved when you see it’s from Eddie. You find yourself blindly hopeful for a continuation of banter, another message solely trying to get on your nerves – something to satiate that stubborn need to slip back into old habits, even if for only just today. 

It’s not. It’s a stale list of requests. Sent to your work email, this time.

No sight of his playfulness between the words. No beckoning of him taunting you, teasing you, whispering for you to just give in and play pretend with him one last time. 

It’s probably for the best. 

—

Have Mondays always been this hectic? 

Week two of working on Corroded Coffin’s album release was starting off very differently from the first week. It seemed every corner you turned, you were faced with a new challenge that only made the headache behind your temples pound more relentlessly. Denial from venues, cold calls being forwarded to voicemail when you’d reach out to vendors, and Matt being impossibly busy with the band to get back to any of your emails in a timely manner. 

If you had to hear one more venue representative turn down your business proposition with a “Sorry, but we’ve heard about Eddie’s reputation…”, you might make a detour to go jump off the Empire State Building. 

Had he really been that awful to venue properties? 

“You look stressed,” Romina notes when you hang up on your third unsuccessful call of the day, slamming the phone down more violently than you should. 

“Who, me?” you bitterly reply, looking over your shoulder to where she leans in her chair, turned entirely from her desk to watch you with gentle amusement, “Never. I have never been stressed a day in my life.” 

She quirks an eyebrow, “And before this new secret project of yours, I would have agreed.” 

“Every venue is shooting me down.”

“It happens,” you yearn to feel the nonchalance that flows through the shrug of her shoulders, as if she’s now the one without a worry in the world, “Are they giving reasons?” 

You open your mouth, but your tongue stops short. Because yes, they were each giving the same resounding, completely valid reason. But to admit this is to inform Romina what your secret project really is – something that a certain NDA strictly prohibits for the time being. 

“Conflict of schedules,” you tightly lie as your glare diverts to your computer screen, still open on a mostly empty inbox. 

Eddie hadn’t emailed you since last week. 

Somewhere amongst your frustration, there was a sore disappointment lying in patient wait. You have not a single doubt that once the storm of the task at hand passes, once you finally secure a venue, that you’ll be forced to deal with it. But for now, a boy not emailing you after being so insistent for your personal contact was the least of your worries. 

Romina’s voice draws you back in, “Really? How far out are you trying to book for?”

“Three months.” 

The squeak of her chair pauses abruptly. Your eyes shift and you catch the way all her mindless swaying has ceased, mouth flat with eyes widened in disbelief. 

“Three months?”

“What?” you finally spin your chair to face her, playing off nonchalance. You know why she’s reacting so dramatically, “Should I not be booking that far in advan-”

“I- No, no. You absolutely should be. It should actually be making it easier to book,” she leans forward in her seat, squinting at you, “Is that really the only reason they’re giving?” 

You get it. Because she’s right; giving such fair notice should be making your job easier. But you can’t defend yourself and explain how the client you’re representing is the real issue. 

“Yeah,” you force a forlorn sigh.

“Jesus,” she whistles out, “Well, that’s just… Fuck. I’m sorry, babe. That’s rough. What types of venues are you even trying for? Wait - didn’t you say you were arranging for a grand opening of a bakery? Wouldn’t they already have their shop set up-”

“Hello ladies.” 

Thank fucking God for Lydia. 

“Lydia!” you sit up just a little bit straighter, nearly leaping out of your seat with relief as your boss approaches. You knew exactly where Romina’s train of thought was heading, and you wouldn’t have been able to come up with a single pitiful excuse to keep up with your little white lie, “How are you today?” 

Romina is still perched in her chair with a confused look, but Lydia doesn’t even glance her way, looking just as concerned as she looks down at you, “I’m… fine. There’s a client for you in the conference room.” 

Straight to the point. Except, you didn’t have a meeting scheduled today. 

“A client?” you echo, shrinking down a bit. You only have one client, technically, at this moment, “I didn’t have anything on my calendar.” 

“Apparently, they were just on this side of town. Said you’d left a few voicemails and he thought it’d be easier to just pop in to discuss things.” 

It had to be Matt. He must have gotten one of your frantic voicemails you’d left over the weekend, the ones you’d instantly regretted and worried had lacked in professionalism. 

It has to be Matt. 

“Oh,” Romina’s eyes are burning holes in the back of your chair as you fumble to lock your computer screen, scrambling to gather anything you might need. The notebook you’d been using to keep track of the entire ordeal crinkles slightly in your grip, “Yeah, of course, that- I’ll go straight there. Are they in one of the smaller conference rooms or the-”

“The main one,” Lydia interrupts you, and her tone makes you pause. 

She sounds as if Matt’s arrival is the largest inconvenience she had experienced in the last month. 

Why would Matt popping in to talk to me be such a big deal? 

She’s clearly not in the mood for questions, so you only nod as you stand up, “Got it.”

And then she’s gone. No interest in joining you, or to question what could be going wrong. No sign of involvement like the day you’d originally met with the band and Matt to sign all documentation. 

Your gut twists in knots that not even boy scout’s have discovered yet. 

And they only worsen when Romina calls after your retreating figure, “Good luck with your baker!” 

You’re kind of fucked. It’s clear she’s no longer buying into your lie of your client, and the thought of facing her after Matt is nausea-inducing. What if you just came clean? Would they sue you for telling Romina? Would Romina tell anyone else if you confided in her? Your thoughts race with question after question as you quickly make your way through the maze of cubicles, taking lefts and rights far too fast as you worry about making Matt wait much longer. 

It was just stupid. Because amongst the questions, one rings out that’s insane enough to make the rest of them actually sound reasonable.

If you did manage to fuck this up in any way, would Eddie protect you?

Whether it be because you couldn’t complete the task at hand that was beginning to look impossible, or if it was because you couldn’t keep your mouth shut, would he defend you? 

You’d figured you’d lost his servitude and protection long ago, back when you’d first left that apartment and ignored every attempt at contact. But if it came down to it, would he offer you one last privilege of his defense? Probably not. Which — fair enough. You hadn’t done anything in the last week to have already earned that back. You hadn’t wanted to earn that privilege back, either. No matter how badly you found yourself wanting a new email from him in your inbox, there was a clear line in the sand drawn by your own stick, and you had to stay to your side of it. 

You were a big girl. You could handle it.

Just as you finally approach the conference room, eyes trained to the ground and brows tightly furrowed in careful consideration (definitely not frustration, because the thought of Eddie surely couldn’t frustrate you), you make a fatal mistake. It’s a small detail you’d never paid much mind to prior — a stain on the carpet just outside the doorway, subtle yet large once the shadowy shifting of the carpet’s color caught your eyes. You’re so busy letting your eyes trail the perimeter of it, trying to focus on the threaded shades rather than the shade of Eddie’s dark eyes in the hallway the week before, that you aren’t prepared when the toe of your shoe catches against the said carpet. 

You should have ate shit, to put it plainly.

One quick fumble, and you’re flying forward, hardly thinking as you throw out your hands to brace for impact. Foolish, considering the fall would have left you with severely aching wrists, or a bruised face. But it never arrives. 

Large hands suddenly appear to grab you, catching you halfway through the sudden fall, and the unfamiliar cologne that’s plagued your waking thoughts for a week now overtakes your senses. 

You thought it was Matt waiting for you.

“Woah!” his voice echoes easily in the empty hallway, “Shit, are you okay?”

You swore it was Matt waiting for you. 

“Fine,” you strangle out, pulling away from that touch as quickly as possible. Like he’s burned you. Like those hands that once knew you all too well held your entire demise in their palms.

 And they might. 

It wasn’t Matt waiting for you.

Eddie doesn’t seem shocked by your retreat, only watching with a blank face as you regain your balance on your own and avoid eye contact. He looks nice – a leather jacket too shiny to be the one he wore when you wore together, a faded band t-shirt beneath you can’t fully see the logo of but know was bought that distressed just for looks due to the familiar unfamiliarity that has begun to cloud around the man you once knew, heavy boots planted right on the stain in the carpet that had distracted you. 

“What did you even trip on?” he finally questions, looking curiously behind you as he retraces your path, “Was it-”

“Air,” you cut him off, “Save me the embarrassment, but I tripped on air.” 

If you had half a mind, you would have interrupted with something more useful. Maybe demanded to know why he was here in your office. Questioned his intentions of showing up unannounced. Asked why he never emailed again. 

Okay, maybe not that last one. 

He lets out a short chuckle, more a breath than anything else as his face finally cracks and he almost grins, “I see. To be fair, it’s an easy thing to trip on. Very hard to see. Almost as if it’s invisible.” 

He gauges your reaction, but you don’t let yourself so much as smile at his awkward attempt at a joke. 

You can’t. You can’t casually joke with him, you can’t laugh and pretend like there isn’t an elephant sitting on your chest every time you occupy the same space as him. There’s no magic eraser to everything between you two; no amount of emails, no amount of bad jokes that can vanish all that has transpired. Your past and the carpet, it seems, have something in common.

Never thought you’d say that about the ugly threads you only look at to disassociate during particularly long days. 

“What are you doing here?” you finally whisper out the right question, and internally cringe as your mouth keeps moving only to tack on a completely unnecessary addition of, “I didn’t receive any emails about a meeting-”

“Matt sent me,” Eddie shrugs. You watch the way the leather creases and fits his wide shoulders, catch yourself studying to see if there’s any new muscle beneath the layers to further estrange you further from him, “He’s been stuck in meetings for the album and single, and said you’d left him a few voice mails so… I’m the rescue team, I guess.” 

You finally look him in his eyes, jaw dropping ever so slightly, “You?”

“What about me?”

“You’re my ‘rescue team’?” the words are bitter on your tongue, his presence anything but a relief of rescue, “No offense, but how can you possibly help me?” 

And then he smiles. And, oh Lord, you’ve forgotten how nice of a smile he has. It’s painful – a sharp reminder of the past that you just can’t shake. He’s an old photograph that never quite burns, a stain on your favorite article of clothing you’ll never wear again. For a moment, it doesn’t matter how many parts of him he’s replaced, how many pieces of him have been turned over brand new and unfamiliar, because he looks just like the boy you left behind. A relic you can mourn for once you return to your apartment all alone. A whisper you’ll exchange with your children about someday, as you tell them all about the boy who changed you for the worse. 

“You’d be surprised,” he muses, reaching a hand up to drag over a chin shadowed over in faint facial hair, “Apparently, once you make it big, you have to learn about more things than just how to play an A chord on a guitar or sing in tune. Business, for example. That’s what you’ve been struggling with, yeah? The business aspect of it all?” 

You kind of want to walk away from him. To go and eat shit in a different hallway, on your way to tell Lydia you can’t do this anymore. 

“I’m not struggling,” you snap. 

He’s quick to lift his hands in surrender, “Don’t shoot the messenger. Those were Matt’s words, not mine.”

“Yeah, well, tell Matt I’m fine,” you huff indignantly, “I’m a professional who can handle myself. I can figure this out on my own.” 

You’re turning your back to him, ready to storm off dramatically for your own sanity, when he clears his throat. 

You pause. You don’t turn to look, but you halt mid-step. 

“Humor me, for a second,” he begins, “What exactly are you fully capable of figuring out on your own?” 

“The planning,” you state the obvious, staring at an odd piece of art on the office wall to your left. Not quite turning your head to him, but angling so your voice carries. 

“Yeah, no shit,” his words spark a little more anger, a little more rage, “I mean what part of the planning? You’ve left Matt at least two voicemails. Probably more, if he’s resorted to sending me.” 

More like five. Possibly seven, but you’d indulged in more wine than would be wise to admitting this weekend after receiving your third venue rejection. 

“Maybe he just got tired of babysitting you. Decided to make you someone else’s problem.” 

“Maybe,” Eddie hums, and you can hear his slow footsteps as he slowly walks to block your vision of the abstract artwork. Your gaze is cut off from the silvery lines splattered across a black background and forced upon brown eyes that are more lively than you remember from the previous week, “But I already made the trip all the way down here. Might as well make myself useful to you.” 

He’s still wearing that smile. The one that belongs captured in a polaroid at the back of your closet. The one frozen in a time that was so much simpler than this. 

The kind that leaves a mark – a stain. 

“You want to make yourself useful to me?” you narrow your eyes, straighten your shoulders, prepare for battle, “Then leave. That is the most useful thing you can do for me right now – walk out of this building, and leave me to figure this out without being a pest.” 

Your words should hurt him, but they only seem to fuel him. It’s the exact same reaction you’d imagined on the other side of all the emails. A pep to his step and a perk in his posture that elicits unhinged annoyance from deep within you. 

“No can do,” he smirks, “Sorry, I’m on Matt’s orders to not leave until we figure this out. Together.” 

You don’t care how nice Matt is – you decidedly hate him at this moment. 

“Eddie,” you don’t notice the way his chest catches when you say his name, even in your defiant tone, “I am telling you right now, there is nothing you can do to help.”

And then he takes you off guard, breathing still not quite steady as he breathes out, “Let’s go get coffee.”

“I already told you, I have no interest in getting coffee or lunch with yo-”

“Not like that,” he waves off, finally slipping back into his casual demeanor, “Just- throw me a bone here, Sugar. We don’t even have to talk. You can bring your laptop and phone, focus on work and pretend I don’t exist the entire time. But I have to stick around long enough to get Matt off my ass, and you clearly have been stuck in this stuffy ass building for too long.” 

Sugar.

Your breath catches at the nickname, just as his had when you said his name. 

Shakily, you exhale, “No, I-”

“Funny thing,” he shoves both hands in the pockets of his jeans. Well-fitted, fairly new. No signs of distress like he preferred in his youth. Just starch black that clings to skin you once knew, “I’m not asking. Technically, I’m your boss. And as your boss, I’m instructing you to join me for nothing more than a free coffee and change of scenery. Like I said, it’ll be as if I’m not even there. I’ll keep my mouth shut the entire time – strictly business.” 

You nearly slip up and inform him that it doesn’t matter if he doesn’t talk – if he’s near you, your body always seems to know. Your body, your senses, your soul. Any time he occupies the same room as you, his vicinity lights something in you impossible to ignore. It had been that way since the first day you met him. And would probably continue to be that way until the day you were buried six feet under. 

Even in death, his soul would probably haunt yours. You would never know another day of peace since meeting Eddie Munson. 

“You’re not my boss,” you argue, crossing your arms, “You’re my client. Lydia is my boss.” 

“And would Lydia appreciate you arguing with a client like this?” 

“What do you want from me?”

The question falls from your lips with unexpected weight and exasperation. 

Your arms fall down from your chest just as quickly as they’d risen, the two of you encased in silence as you both realize the implication behind the question. It’s about more than just the coffee, more than just his impromptu visit to your work. It’s the heaviest question you could have asked at this moment; and one that neither of you were ready to hear the answer to quite yet. 

There’s a million unsaid words swirling behind whiskey irises. A hundred and one conversations never had, a thousand and one battles never witnessed on both ends of this war. Something in them whispers you might not be the only one haunted. 

Maybe, just maybe, his soul will only haunt yours for as long as yours haunts his. A haunted house, a ghastly gallery. Two ghosts always meant to hang up parallel to each other in crooked frames, in an empty hallway. 

“Just a coffee,” he whispers, and something in you cracks quietly, “Just one cup of coffee, for now.” 

With all things considered, it’s not asking that much of you. 

You don’t have any fight left in you. Whether he’s here, whether he’s a world away, you’re still destined to be stuck across from him in the damn hallway. Always staring, always drawn. There might not be a single corner of this world far enough away to break whatever thread ties you to the man before you, whether you still know him or not. 

After a pregnant pause, you sigh, “Let me grab my purse.”

With all things considered, he probably should be asking more of you. 

But you’re grateful he isn’t as you retreat and do exactly as promised, not looking Romina in her eyes before you begin your doomsday march for just one cup of coffee. 

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#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #rockstar!eddie munson #maroon #ghost's writing #ghost's stories #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson angst #i don't know how i feel about the email things i did but #i put too much effort into them to give up now waaah #was originally going to include the coffee date but that would have made it like 12k words lol

[sluttyminghao]

fleshlights and vibrators | w.jh

♡ pairing: fiance!junhui x female!reader ♡ w.c.: 3.3k ♡ genre: smut, fluff, a splash of comedy (18+ only minors DNI) ♡ this fic contains: use of sex toys (male and female), switch!junhui, switch!reader, multiple orgasms, mention of overstimulation, penetration without protection, jeonghan is always at the scene of the crime, reader goes to a sex store, teasing, pet names (baby, angel, love), dirty talk ♡ synopsis: when you can't work out what junhui wants for his birthday, you take jeonghan's advice. ♡ a/n: happy birthday to junnie ! thank you once again to @lovelyhan for once again hyping me up with this ily

When you celebrated birthdays, you tended to go all out, and your fiance was no exception. After being together for 3 years, it was easy to figure out what he wanted, considering he was an open book. Generally, he would say something offhandedly about an item he’d been wanting, and sure enough, when his birthday rolled around it would be handed to him in pretty packaging with a bow on top.

This year, however, you had yet to decide what to get him.

He hadn't dropped even a hint on what he was after, so you were left clueless as the days clocked over and his birthday drew closer. It had you in a slight panic, and despite messaging all your friends for ideas, no one could help you.

Until you received a message the day before Junhui’s birthday, from one of his bandmates, Jeonghan. It seemed like a saving grace at this point, and you were just hoping he would be able to point you in the right direction.

[2:04 pm] Jeonghan: are you still looking for birthday gift ideas?

[2:04 pm] You: YES im so stuck pls help me

[2:13 pm] Jeonghan: he’s been pretty stressed lately, he probably just needs a good fuck, maybe you could give him head

You stare at your phone screen, slack-jawed at how casually Jeonghan was bringing up this conversation. But then again, you could hardly be surprised considering how close the two were and most definitely shared the most intimate and filthy thoughts and desires.

[2:25 pm] You: what about a sex toy?

[2:27 pm] Jeonghan: oh yeah he mentioned maybe wanting to try a fleshlight with you… something to consider perhaps

Your heart flutters at the words on the screen, wondering what else Junhui had mentioned in conversations with his fellow band members. The thought of using a fleshlight on your fiance had definitely crossed your mind on more than one occasion, but you had never been ballsy enough to purchase one or bring it up to him out of fear he wouldn't like it.

[2:30 pm] You: thanks jeonghan, I owe you one

[2:34 pm] Jeonghan: just make sure he gets laid otherwise I'll never hear the end of it.

You make a mental note to thank him with a drink later, slide your shoes on and head out the door to make what might possibly be the most embarrassing purchase of your entire life, but you know, anything to make Junhui happy.

The sex store isn't far from your apartment, and the 20-minute walk gives you time to wade through all your thoughts and try and sort them out. Most of your thoughts consisted of this specific sex toy, wondering why he wanted it, how long he’s been wanting to try it if he would even tell you he wanted it.

Any thoughts or doubts you had were promptly squashed the moment you entered the dimly lit shop, your eyes widening at the sight of all the sex toys lining the walls and shelves. The sight of the different-sized dildos, whips, paddles, and other various toys has your heartbeat quickening, almost enough to break you out into a sweat. As you wandered the aisles in search of the fleshlights, you find a couple of other toys that pique your interest and might come in handy later. You store those thoughts for a later day.

When you finally stumble across the fleshlights near the back of the store and next to the bondage rope, you find yourself pushing your thighs together to prevent your arousal from soaking your panties (with little success). Just the sight of the devices, the flesh-coloured objects with an opening resembling a vagina, has your mind reeling. 

You think about how his pretty whines would sound when you sink the fleshlight down on his girthy cock, how his thighs would tremble as you overstimulate him and milk his cock dry as the rubber device fucks him deliciously. The thoughts running through your mind have shivers cascading down your spine, and without a second thought you grab one of the devices sitting on the shelves without even looking at it.

“Just this one for today?” The cashier’s bright and bubbly voice smacks you out of your trance and you nod with a smile. They place the fleshlight in a discreet black bag and hand it over with a wink, which only makes your breath hitch and you hightail it out of the store, just wanting to get home and compartmentalize every thought you’d had in the space of an hour.

The walk home is cool and the wind is fresh against your skin and seems to drag out much longer than your walk to the store. You hold the bag tight against your body, mainly out of fear of the flimsy bag ripping and the toy falling onto the ground into plain sight of everyone enjoying their Friday afternoon.

You breathe a sigh of relief when you finally reach the steps of your apartment and unlock the door. After toeing off your shoes and placing the bag on the bed, you open your phone and your relaxed nature is yet again, replaced with one of panic when you read the messages on your phone.

[4:07 pm] Junnie: hey babe im coming home early!

[4:10 pm] Junnie: I’ll be home in 15! Love you!

You quickly check the time, now 4:24, and realize he will be home any second. The lock on the front door clicks open and you can hear Junhui’s signature humming coming down the hallway. You panic and quickly go to greet him, forgetting all about the plastic bag on the bed momentarily.

Junhui looks tired but still manages to pull a loopy grin onto his face at the sight of you bounding down the hallway. He opens his arms for you to enter and you don’t hesitate to envelope yourself into his body warmth, his musky scent filling your nostrils and making a sense of peace and calm wash over you. He really was your happy place.

“How was your day love?” He kisses the top of your head and places his keys into the bowl near the front door, kicking off his shoes and heading toward the bedroom. You follow him like a lost puppy and only stop in your tracks when you hear a noise of confusion leave Junhui’s lips.

You’d left the bag on the bed. The bag with the fleshlight in it.

“Hey babe, what’s this?”

Upon peeking into the bedroom, you can see him holding the bag with his index and middle fingers. You step into the bedroom and feel your cheeks begin to heat up. You don’t think he’s opened the bag yet, due to the quizzical look covering his features, but your heart rate still quickens anyway.

“Oh, that! I’ll take it, it’s just something I bought when I went shopping today,” you make an attempt to grab the bag, but junhui knew how to use his size to his advantage. He holds the bag high above your head, out of reach despite trying your best to try and grab the bag. He smirks when you try to jump repeatedly, his height becoming a great advantage.

“What’s in the bag?”

“Nothing!”

“Well, why won't you let me see what's in it?”

“Because it’s for your birthday!”

His mouth opens into an ‘o’ shape and he finally relents, bringing the bag back down to your height. Just as the bag is within your grasp again, you feel the flimsy plastic begin to rip, and before you can stop it, the toy is falling out of the bottom of the bag, and landing on the floor with a loud thud.

You both look at the fleshlight in silence, the box it came in now dinted from where it fell on the floor. After a moment, you can hear Junhui swallow and lean down to pick up the box, before handing it back to you with his cheeks and the tip of his ears bright pink.

“I-”

“Is that what I think it is?” Junhui cuts you off and takes a step closer to you. You stare at the box in your hands, feeling your hands get sweatier by the second. Your heartbeat is thumping in your ears, he feels a million miles away yet he’s standing two feet away. 

“What do you think it is?”

“A fleshlight.”

Eye contact is avoided. You can’t even bear to look him in the eye because you aren't sure how he’s feeling. Your eyes are downcast to the floor, your sock-clad feet seemingly much more interesting than your fiance's reaction to a sex toy. You can see his own feet step into your vision and you gulp, hoping he won’t chew you out for buying him a sexual aid.

“I love it.”

As soon as the words fall from his lips, your head snaps up and you look him in the eye. You can see his gentle smile and when his hand comes up to caress your cheek, any ounce of common sense left in your body is thrown out the window.

“Good, because I plan to use it on you for hours.”

Your statement takes him aback, and even more so when you push him backwards onto the bed, and you walk over and get on the bed to straddle his hips. The box is tossed to the side temporarily, while you lean over and let your lips collide with Junhui’s plush ones. He lets out a surprised gasp which gives you the perfect opportunity to slide your tongue into his mouth.

For a while, you lay and make out with him, letting your cool hands run under his shirt and feel the warm, toned skin underneath. He’s letting out the cutest whimpers and moans into your mouth, and it only makes the arousal flood your panties tenfold.

You can tell he’s getting impatient, with the way he begins groping at your ass and his fingers are teasingly tracing your panty line. You pull away from his lips, a thin trail of saliva still connecting the two of you until it snaps when you move to grab the box.

“Remove your clothes, Junnie, I want to see all of you.”

“O-okay.”

He’s quick to remove his shirt, exposing his beautifully sculpted abs and torso. You lick your lips at the sight, which is quickly moved downwards when he begins removing his slacks and exposing his lower half. As he removes his boxers, you can see just how worked up he’s gotten. His cock is already hard and leaking precum, the protruding vein on the left side throbbing and his balls twitching and ready to be emptied.

“Get on the bed.”

He complies quickly with your dominant aura surrounding him, his head landing on his pillow and his hands quickly grabbing at the blanket underneath his naked body. He feels as if his head is swimming when you quickly undress yourself to the same level of nakedness as him, your body igniting a fire within his belly that can only be quenched by you sitting on his cock.

But that would have to wait.

With a smirk on your lips, you pull the fleshlight out of the box and quickly wipe it down with an antibacterial wipe, before dousing it in a heap of lube. You glance over to look at your fiance and are met with doe eyes, hands fisting the sheets and his bottom lip pulled between his teeth in anticipation.

“You’re so cute when you’re needy Junnie~” your soft voice has him whining and thrashing his head around on his pillow, which is the perfect opportunity to place the tip of his cock into the fleshlight and watch as his eyes widen and his hips buck up at the feelings.

“Oh f-fuck!” His voice cracks as you slide the fleshlight down his shaft slowly, letting the rubber envelope his throbbing cock. You can see tears welling up in his eyes as you test the waters and begin pumping the fleshlight up and down at a tantalizingly slow pace, his hands in the sheets gripping as hard as they possibly can.

You can see his body relax a little bit as you start a steady pace, his body contracting and relaxing every couple of seconds with each pump of the fleshlight. What he doesn't realize is that the toy you’d bought also came with a vibrating inner sleeve, and with just the push of a button, you could have him crying out your name.

“How’re you feeling baby? Feeling good?” You pump the fleshlight a little faster along his shaft and watch as he furiously nods and clings to the sheets like it’s his lifeline. You smirk and press a button on the side of the fleshlight, the gentle thrum sparking to life and sending junhui into a frenzy.

You can see how much this is affecting him, even on the lowest setting. He’s thrusting his hips up maniacally, head thrashing against his pillow and tears are streaming down his cheeks steadily. His moans have gradually gotten louder and by the time he’s close to cumming, his moans are laced with hiccups and sobs due to the sheer pleasure coursing through his body.

He can’t even warn you that he’s cumming because the wind is knocked out of his body but with the fleshlight feeling like a vice around his cock paired with the low vibrations, his cum spurts out quickly. It shoots deep into the fleshlight, and he cums so much that once you slow down your pumping, it’s like he’s creaming into an actual pussy and it makes your insides turn to jelly. His cum fills the inside of the fleshlight and coats his shaft, and even goes down as far as his upper thighs.

“How do you feel baby, are you okay?” Your voice is what brings him back to the Earth plane, and he stares at you with a goofy smile on his features. You place the fleshlight on the bedside table and lay next to him, stroking his messy bangs off his sweaty forehead. He leans into your touch, eyes fluttering closed and his body curling into yours.

“‘M okay…but still want more,” he whines, adjusting his body so that he’s between your legs and is hovering above you. Your eyes widen as he smirks and leans down to kiss your clavicle, and works his way down until he’s right above where you want him the most.

“You want more? But I already made you cum baby, what more do you want?” Your voice comes out breathy as he lets his tongue glide over your breasts, paying close attention to your nipples. He hums against your skin, the vibrations making you feel warm and he knows it. Fucker.

“I want to be buried deep inside you and cum as hard as I did with the fleshlight you used on me.”

He doesn’t say another word as he strokes himself to full hardness again, soft whimpers escaping him at the slight overstimulation. You can’t help but moan at the sight of your fiance jacking off right above you, and a new wave of arousal floods your cunt which doesn't go unnoticed by him.

“Oh wait, I need to grab something,” he mentions, your curiosity piquing when he moves to his side of the bed and pulls open his drawer, grabbing at some long white device before shutting the drawer and crawling back to his previous position between your thighs.

“What did you grab?”

He grins playfully and holds the item up for you to inspect, and it doesn't even surprise you that he has a vibrator just hanging out in his drawer. You scoff but feel your cheeks burn, and wonder when he had actually bought it. 

Junhui lets the head of his cock rest against your clit teasingly, the occasional twitch driving you insane. He plays with the settings of the vibrator for a few seconds, before finding a setting he thinks will work well, before lining himself up with your entrance. You bite your lip in anticipation and let out a strangled sigh when he lets the fat head of his cock push inside of you.

You loved the way he stretched you out so deliciously, how he could hardly contain his own orgasm as he filled you to the hilt, your cunt feeling very similar to how the fleshlight felt and he has to take a few breaths to not cum on the spot. With one hand, he grabs the vibrator and lets it lay on your stomach, but doesn't turn it on quite yet. With his other hand, he takes one of your hands and interlaces your fingers, the softness of that one gesture having you melt into his touch.

He starts off at a slow pace, rocking his hips gently into yours. You can feel every inch of him against your walls, the way he knows exactly how to angle his hips to hit that spongy sensitive spot inside of you repeatedly has you on edge within minutes, and he knows exactly what he’s doing.

“You’re so fucking t-tight, god,” Junhui chokes out, his breath stuttering when you absentmindedly clench around his cock and cause him to halt his movements. He quickly continues, speeding his pace up and grabbing the vibrator and turning it on. Your eyes widen as he teases you with the toy, keeping the toy on your nipples at first, running the vibrations down your body.

When he gets close to your cunt, you feel yourself beginning to clench even more around Junhui’s cock. He grunts and turns the vibrations up on the vibrator, before letting it rest against your clit. He speeds his thrusts up at the exact moment the vibrator lands on your cunt, and the intense feeling is one like no other and has you seeing stars within seconds.

You aren't even sure when you became incoherent, your mind was too busy building you up to what would most definitely be the most intense orgasm you’ve experienced to date. Junhui can feel you tightening up like you normally do right before you cum, and takes the vibrator away at the last moment, throwing it to the side of the bed.

“Cum for me, fucking cum for me, angel.”

And that was all it took, your vision covered with exploding stars as the rubber band inside you snapped violently, your orgasm being so intense that Junhui’s cock is pushed out of you. He doesn’t mind though, he just takes his cum covered shaft in his hand and pumps quickly until he’s painting your chest and stomach white, long streaks of his cum dripping down your skin.

He flops beside you, both your bodies trembling from pleasure. He takes one of your hands in his again and kisses your fingers gently, in an attempt to bring you back to earth. When you start coming back, he hums and starts tracing soft patterns on your back, the familiarity lulling you into a sense of warmth and security.

“We should shower, my love,” he mumbles into the skin of your neck, to which you promptly reply with a strained whine. Junhui can only chuckle and effortlessly pull your tired body off the bed and carry you princess-style to the bathroom.

“Let’s shower and then we can nap, okay?” he cups your face with his hands and kisses your nose softly before getting the shower turned on and warmed up. He takes a quick glance at the time, noting it’s only 8:30 pm, but neither of you had eaten dinner yet.

“Did you like the gift?”

Your voice snaps him out of his thoughts about dinner, and he turns and gives you a huge boxy grin. 

“I couldn’t have asked for anything better. What should we get for dinner?”

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#sluttyhao fics #sluttyhao smut #kpop smut #seventeen smut #junhui smut #jun smut #svthub

[koolades-world]

Christmas in the Devildom

Christmas wasn’t something the Devildom celebrated before your arrival. It felt inherently wrong, and to the brothers, strange to celebrate the birth of what could only be considered an estranged brother to them. Jesus always was the favorite anyways, considering he got a whole holiday. But once you arrived, and they saw how important things like this were to you, they began to grow accustomed more human traditions.

Diavolo wholeheartedly threw himself, and his kingdom, into the festivities. If there wasn’t already snow, he arranged for magical fake snow. Christmas tree tents and Christmas shops appeared everywhere. He even went as far as to dress up as Santa on a few occasions. The Little D’s were made into elves which Dia thought was hilarious.

Lucifer needed to stop Mammon from stealing gifts, both his and others, and Asmo from peaking, so he went as far as curse the gifts. Anyone who’s touched them and taken them further than the tree had the word “naughty” written across their forehead. Diavolo thought this was very festive and funny, so he took a present on purpose so he could have it too. Lucifer was not amused. Satan tried and failed to trick Lucifer into getting it written on his forehead too. He ended up with on his own forehead and had to cover it with a Santa hat he deemed ugly.

After learning Christmas wasn’t really a thing in the Devildom, you took the place by storm and showed them all your favorite traditions. Christmas baking, gingerbread houses, white elephant, tree and house decorating, and so much more. You couldn’t believe on how much they were missing out on. You recruited the Purgatory Hall residents for help, but Solomon was “promoted” to supervisor when it came to anything cooking or baking. Both Luke and Simeon were already acquainted with the idea of Christmas and were more than happy to help. According to Solomon, it has been at least 100 years since he last celebrates Christmas, so he was rusty but willing to learn again.

You, Simeon, Luke, and Barbatos had a gingerbread house building competition. To be honest, all you had going for you was your Christmas spirit, but at least the others offered to make it a 2v2. Barbatos offered to be on your team and together you made a replica of the Demon Lord's Castle. Despite being there and actively helping for the full creation, you still don't know how it happened. Luke and Simeon ended up making a replica of Purgatory Hall. The judges (Diavolo, Lucifer, and Solomon) could not come to a consensus and it ended in a draw. The brothers, minus Lucifer, attempted and failed to make a replica of the House of Lamentation. It's safe to say they would not have won.

The brothers and a few other demons became enamored with the ideas of mistletoe and they all tried to catch you under it on many occasions. You made sure to distribute the kisses evenly to make sure one wasn’t getting more than they were owed and you yourself went out after those who you thought weren’t being proactive. Surprisingly, Belphie got in the most. You stopped counting after Christmas Day but he kept on using the mistletoe until New Years. You originally thought he carried it in his pockets with him, but you checked yourself while he was asleep and found nothing. Honorable mentions went to Levi, who tried his hardest but only actually got about two kisses in since he kept backing out.

You also made sure Christmas Eve and Christmas Day were special, with help of course. Beel and Lucifer were perfect for setting up the tree and other decorations that needed to be up high. Mammon was great help on Christmas morning since he tended to follow you around like a lost puppy, and Asmo was very helpful for Christmas dinner. Levi helped you cover all your bases with presents since he was surprisingly good at wrapping ang selecting gifts to give. In conjunction with Barbatos, they coordinated the secret Santa. Everyone was happy with their presents!

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays everyone!! Dealing with slight writers block right now so apologies for the lack of content but please enjoy what I do manage to put out <3

#obey me #obey me! #obey me satan #obey me x reader #obey me asmo #obey me levi #obey me beel #obey me belphie #obey me mammon #obey me lucifer #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me solomon #obey me simeon #obey me luke #omswd #obey me shall we date #obey me mc

[alonetimelover]

pairing: Harry Styles x tennis player!reader

summary: "Can't hear the haters when you're slaying"

tennis player!reader

——————————————————————————————

harryupdates

liked by ynupdates, harryshoee and 14 104 others

harryupdates Harry and YN were spotted in London yesterday! via emglishmanharry

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ynupdates glad to see yn well rested before the big paris!!

harrysmoustache he looks SOOOOOO good, man

harryshoee they are such a handsome couple, i literally can't take it anymore

tennisfan01 walkover in Italy to have a longer vacation? very professional of her

tennisfan92 here you have an example of why she's losing so much lately

tennisfan101 choosing a boy instead of your job??? classy

ynhater professional player only in billboards

ynhater16 she's becoming more of a celebrity than a tennis player, you can now see what she's really after 💸

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ynupdates

liked by harryupdates, ynsmybestie and 28 101 others

ynupdates I really don't know if I should write this... This photo is from YN's practice in Paris today. She broke down crying after multiple people from the audience kept calling her names, howling and disturbing. Those people were just a percentage of the ones that are actively judging her on the internet. And it is NOT okay. And it will never be. Some people should stay at home and keep shouting at their TV, leaving this lovely young woman to live HER life the way SHE wants to. She doesn't owe you anything. Treat her the way you'd like to be treated, with respect and kindness.

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harryupdates couldn't have said it better

ynshands i hate those people, who do they think they are???

ynsmybestie i actually broke down crying with her, it was heartbreaking to see and hear

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harrysmoustache

liked by harryupdates, ynshands and 22 101 others

harrysmoustache after years of listening to Harry, i got to see him live. yes, this show was different. Yes, he was disappointed and angry. yes, he wasn't his usual bubbly smiley self. am I going to complain? no. he had a reason to be and its okay. I still listened to my favourite song (fine line) and forgot about my problems. thank you, harrystyles

view all 2 101 comments

harrynewfan hi, im a new fan and don't know what is happening in the fandom yet. could someone explain?

⤷ ynsmybestie harry is in a relationship with YN YSN. and right now, she is receiving a lot of hate because of losing tournaments and taking a break. its all over twitter (she's been trending for a week now)

ynupdates it seems that the situation really got to him. it's so sad to see

ynsmybestie i hope they are okay. i fear them breaking up, like man.... i can't think about it, imma cry

harryshoee did any of you miss what he said on stage???

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twitter

emily saw harry ♡ | harryno1fan

here's a thread of what harry said today concerning the outrageous comments about yn

1) "Your sign says: "I was bullied into changing myself. You helped me find the way back." First of all, you did it yourself because you are the strong individual. Secondly, I hope that those bullies learnt how to use their ability to communicate, right? This show is not a safe place for bullies, any bullies. Treat people with kindness."

11k comments | 34k shares | 74k likes

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emily saw harry ♡ | harryno1fan

2) Right before singing Fine Line: If I may have your attention, please! This song has been very special for a person close to me lately, and I'd like to dedicate it to her. Uhmm, sometimes when life gets hard and everyone seems to be against you, there - there is someone still for you, believing in you. This is for you."

10k comments | 32k shares | 70k likes

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emily saw harry ♡ | harryno1fan

3) After seeing the sign *are you coming to the Roland Garros?* "am I going? of course i am. my girlfriend is defending her title there. of course, I'm gonna be there! what a ridiculous question *laughing*. are you coming? you are. i hope to see you there. she loves the support even though she doesn't want to admit to it."

9k comments | 38k shares | 90k likes

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emily saw harry ♡ | harryno1fan

4) when there were five signs about yn next to each other: "did you coordinate that? no? you don't know each other! that's great! why are you writing signs about someone else on MY concert, hmm? I'm sorry, what? oh, you want to show your support. that's great. that's lovely. I think yn would love to see it. May I take a picture of you guys?"

and he did take a picture of them!!!!

14k comments | 40k shares | 80k likes

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harry LOT | harryupdates

this concert was very different and I think everyone needed it. harry made a clear statement: there is no place for hate and cruelty that people put YN through. and i thank him for that, really. what a great man.

4k comments | 6k shares | 3k likes

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yn my queen | ilovetennis

i am glad that Harry finally spoke up against it

1k comments | 654 shares | 2,1k likes

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ynupdates

liked by harryupdates, ynsmymama and 5 201 others

ynupdates YN via IG stories! thankfully the first round went easy and she's waiting for tomorrow's opponent. can't wait to see another match!

also, yes, i am disabling the comments because haters didn't learn anything.

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harryupdates

liked by ynupdates, tennismylife and 9 201 others

harryupdates HARRY posing for pictures tonight!

edit: the sign said "pose as if yn is taking a picture of you"

view all 2 201 comments

harryshoee this show is looking very promising and we're just few minutes in!!!!

hArrysbtch babes, he looks cuuuuuute

ynsmybestie im in love

yntennisqueen im beginning to like him

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twitter

seeing harry tonight | harryontour

"she's in paris, cause she's defending her Roland Garros title. and she's in the arena to define if I'm a better performer than Taylor Swift. baby, what's the verdict?"

when i tell you i screamed. sorry, screeched at him, i bet if he heard he would think I was possessed.

16k comments | 12k shares | 32k likes

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lily loves harry | lilyamazing

and then they showed yn screaming "you know im a swiftie!" i love this woman

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seeing harry tonight | harryontour

the fucking update I have guys...

Harry: your sign says "have you listened to midnights?" have I listened to midnights?! who do you think I am? midnights? pfff. *after a little pause* yes. yes, I did. my girlfriend loooooves it.

and then he walked off singing: karma is my boyfriend, karma is a god, karma is the breeze in my hair on the weekend

I LOVE HIM

28k comments | 34k shares | 102k likes

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harry and tay | midnightsqueen

he's a karma stan, slay king!!!!

3k comments | 4k shares | 7k likes

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andrew is right | billhater

oh, so she's going to concerts the night before a match. no wonder she's losing so much.

14k comments | 8k shares | 1k likes

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ynupdates

liked by harrystyles, harryupdates and 47 291 others

ynupdates couldn't imagine having a better response to the haters. yn ysn everybody!

edit: what in the fuck is harry styles doing on my profile??? wtf is yn doing here as well???

view all 6 028 comments

harryupdates👏 this 👏 is 👏 how 👏 you do it 👏

harrystyles can't here the haters when you're slaying

⤷ yourinstagram oh god, harry xD

⤷ ynsmybestie wtf are you doing here guys????

⤷ harryupdates couldn't imagine my Friday going any better, my life is made, I can die happily

⤷ yourinstagram please don't, im going to sue harry if you do

ynsmymama this match was everything. she IS the leader

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harrystyles

liked by yourinstagram, ynupdates and 18 291 302 others

harrystyles #22 ❤️🎂

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yourinstagram

liked by harrystyles, taylorswift and 2 201 493 others

yourinstagram i don't know about you, but I'm feeling 22!

thank you for all the birthday wishes, i love you all ❤️

comments have been limited

harrystyles happy birthday, baby ❤️❤️

taylorswift and it looks good on you! Happy birthday, YN!

⤷ yourinstagram no way

⤷ yourinstagram thank you so much!!! i love you!!!

#harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles instagram #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles #tennis player!reader

[the-darklings]

──𝐭𝐨𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐢 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐞 [𝐕.]

summary: "You look lonely, Dream."

pairing: dream of the endless x f!reader

wc: 3.5k+

warnings: dare I say it... soft, Dream is still Dream ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

notes: you're all actually insane. thank you so much for your support & I love you. enjoy perhaps the happiest chapter in the story : )

part one | series masterlist | ao3 |

PART FIVE: YEAR 522

“Enjoying yourself?”

You nudge the book from over your face, squinting at the tall figure looming over you. “I was till about two seconds ago.” 

Your retort is lost in a sleepy yawn as you cover your mouth. 

Corinthian’s tall frame casts a steep, hard-edged shadow over your body. He doesn’t move. Sighing, you unhook your legs to sit up, blinking up at him. “Where were you? I haven’t seen you in two days.”

“Performing my duty,” he replies smoothly, mockingly bowing. “As our benevolent ruler has intended. Even I get tonight off.”

“Right. Good dreams for everyone.”

Dreamfall is tonight. The inhabitants that call this realm their home—nightmares and dreams alike—have been prepping for the celebration since light first broke over the land. 

Corinthian steps under the whistling willow, visibly amused by how the branches seemingly hiss whenever he draws too near. He sits down against the trunk without forewarning, grabbing your ankles resting in the shade. He lifts your legs before dropping them over his lap unceremoniously. His hat drops beside him, and you huff at his gall. Your shoe nudges his deliberately—a half kick—your sweet smile making an equally poisonous smile curl his mouth. 

“Ow.”

“Sorry,” he drawls insincerely. 

Rolling your eyes, you leaf through the book you were reading before your impromptu nap. 

“Will you be at the celebration?” you inquire casually, not looking his way.

The nightmare clicks his tongue. “No.”

Your stare skims over the edge of your hardcover, “Why not?”

A thin, polished blade appears in his hand, looping between his long fingers. He seems too thoughtful for it to not spell trouble. “Taking a page from your book and running from things.”

This time your kick lands intentionally against his ankle. Corinthian doesn't react to it. Lately, he's been convinced you're running from things that have transpired in your extended life. It's true to an extent. You're not idiotic enough to convince yourself otherwise. Kernel of truth or otherwise, you would rather talk about anything else. 

This is the longest you’ve ever stayed at the Dreaming in a single stretch. Almost a year. But this time is different. You can’t help but get a sense others don’t want you to leave. They’re concerned about you. After your last mishap in the waking world, no one can blame them, certainly not you. You were in terrible shape. If anything, you had forgotten how sweet it is: to be wanted and cared for, even if few ever express it through traditional means. 

“Not this again,” you groan. “You don’t get it.”

"Oh, but I do." Corinthian's head tips to the side, facing away from you. You haven't noticed the miniature wooden piece in his other hand until his blade starts scoring through the wood. "You don't want to consider your existence. So instead, you shove everything happening to you to the side in some vain hope that it won't hurt you if you wait long enough. Tsk, tsk."

Metal scrapes on wood again; louder, with more force, small wooden shavings scattering near your feet. Corinthian turns to face you again, leaning closer, your distorted reflection visible in his shades. “But memories have teeth, Wanderer,” he continues playfully. “They always come back to bite.”

You offer him a flat, unamused stare. “Trying to freak me out? Or just being purposely annoying?”

He grins brightly, all teeth visible, one side of his mouth crooking slightly further than the other. “I’m a nightmare, darling. It’s in the job description.”

Rolling your eyes, you lift your book back over your face, his words swimming in your head. 

“Annoying, it is.” 

Silence blankets the clearing for a while. Miniature daisies curl around your palm where it rests on the warm ground. It doesn’t escape your heed that everything in Fiddler’s Green shrinks away from Corinthian. Everyone, everywhere, shrinks away from him. Even amongst other nightmares, he has distinct energy that separates him from the rest; bold, defiant, and destructive.

Frowning, you drop the book back over your chest, gazing up at him. Corinthian’s head rests slanted to one side, focused entirely on his work. You’ve seen him partake in woodcraft often in recent years, but only ever in private. It settles him. This way, he manages to keep his mind and hands busy. During instances like these, away from everything, Corinthian appears almost human. As if whatever cruelty he indulges in so often takes a rest during these times. 

“Come with me to the celebration,” you say abruptly. “It won’t kill you to be nice for a change.”

The nightmare pauses mid-scratch. Corinthian carefully considers his handiwork, blowing away the wood dust with deliberate slowness. “I’m very nice,” he retorts. “See.”

He throws the object at you. You scramble, the wooden figurine almost hitting you in the chest. Shooting him a glare, you roll the smooth wood in your hand. It’s warm to the touch. 

Miniature Corinthian stares back at you. With a gleeful grin stretched wide, glasses on, and a wooden hat over the nightmare’s head. The details are immaculate. Lovely. Somehow the thought he’s created this from nothing brings a smile to your face. So, not just a nightmare, huh? 

You offer the nightmare a toothy, teasing grin. “He’s cute. Could use some friends, though.”

You toss it back at him. Unlike you, Corinthian catches the figurine smoothly, twisting it between his digits with a considerate hum.

“Friends.” There’s an abrasive edge to the way he articulates the word. “What a thought. Catch.”

You’re ready this time, but at no point did you catch him taking out a second figurine. Your mouth parts, speechless. 

“This is…”

It's you. Your likeness has been shrunk to fit inside your hand—a tight knot forms in your throat. You've never had someone do something like this for you. The curse repeatedly destroys any traces of you. Fires, floods, diseases, wars. You've never been allowed to exist. Not in any significant way, anyway. But this is special—proof, as good as any, that you're real.

Wordlessly, you sit up, reaching over to hand him back the figurine. 

“What?” he bites out. “Don't you like it?”

You want to smile at the prickly offence in his voice. 

“I love it,” you insist. You nimbly grab the figurine Corinthian made of himself and shove it in your pocket, wiggling your brows. “But you hold onto mine, and I’ll hold onto yours. That’s what friends would do.”

You plop down on the ground, stretching your legs more comfortably over his lip. Corinthian doesn’t stir. Time glides leisurely, weaving a tapestry of tranquillity: you read, Corinthian whittles a new piece. When you’re out there in the universe, it’s memories like this one you armour yourself with. 

“Can I ask you something?”

Corinthian doesn’t pause in his work. “You just did.”

You lift onto one elbow. “Why do you wear your glasses around me? You know your eyes don’t scare me.”

Even the mini replica of him has glasses on. Is he worried they make you uncomfortable? After five hundred years, few things can unsettle you anymore. 

“I do. But I wasn’t born. I was made.” There’s weight to how he phrases it. Purposeful, premeditated. “The first time I became aware of my existence, I saw two things. Him, Dream of the Endless, my creator, and… you. The only one who never flinched away. Funny that.”

You lift a curious brow. “Funny how?”

A slight, mean grin edges Corinthian’s mouth. “Surely you’ve noticed? How many others around here look like me? Like you?”

Wind rustles your clothes, wrapping around your wrists and shoulders. Maybe it’s Fiddler Green’s approach in discouraging you from this conversation. But you’re not leaving. And you understand what the nightmare is trying to convey, what he’s suggesting between the lines. 

That on some level—subconscious or otherwise—Dream crafted Corinthian in your image. The parallels are too significant. Your shared human attributes. A cursed human. A nightmare. Differing forms of misery. Forever. 

You witnessed Corinthian's creation. He's been special to you ever since. Those jagged teeth for eyes or his corrupt nature never bothered you. At least not as much as others believed it should. 

“Corinthian—”

“Hey kid, there you are,” a voice grouses through the clearing, striding hurriedly in your direction. “Geez. Do you have any idea how hard it is to track you down? Oh. Corinthian.”

Merv freezes the second the nightmare comes into view; branches and your body have kept him mostly from sight until now. 

Clearing your throat, you raise your hand in a casual wave. “Hey, Merv.”

The pumpkin head balances on his heels, awkwardly looking around the clearing. “Uh, the big boss wants you back at the castle, kid,” the caretaker informs, pointing his thumb behind him. Back in the castle’s direction. “You’re the honoured guest tonight, so….”

Dream must be otherwise occupied if he didn’t come to collect you himself, considering he can pin your down in a mere second usually. 

“Better run along,” Corinthian shoos, leaning back to get more comfortable. His hands are empty in his lap, and it doesn’t escape your notice. 

You won’t be able to continue your conversation now; that is clear. Admitting silent defeat, you struggle back onto your feet, stretching. You tuck the leather-bound book under your arm, turning to go. 

“Oh, and Wanderer?” You pause at Corihtian’s deliberately sweet call. In your peripheral, Merv’s features spasm with irritation. The nightmare grins when you turn back towards him. “Happy Dreamfall. May the Fates smile upon you.”

The nightmare’s hands clasp together lightly in mock prayer, and you shake your head. Leave it to him to ridicule human religion. 

“You can’t bribe three-in-one for good fortune, Cori,” you tell him, equally as saccharine. “It doesn't work like that.”

“The veil between Worlds will be thin tonight,” he says lightly, all innocence, shrouding something darker beneath. “You never know.”

.

“You should be back at the castle, enjoying the festivities.”

Waves lap against the shores of the Dreaming, all things unstirring and still around you. It’s so quiet here. Even your breaths echo. Dreams and nightmares alike are celebrating. Tonight, their home is the centre of the cosmos. It’s dense in the air—that thrumming power raw imagination holds, building and swelling with the inky waves. You sit perched in the grainy, dark sand, your fingers dug in deep. A light breeze stirs beside you, and the Dream King’s dark coat whispers over your hand. 

On this night, his overcoat is edged with glimmering golden flame at the hem, flaring brighter with each faint movement. Dream of the Endless at his true, unsuppressed power. The universe is paying tribute to his domain tonight. Your skin tingles at the oozing power radiating from him in such close proximity. 

However, the answer to his reserved observation comes quickly: “Couldn’t miss this view.”

Light beams swirl in a multicoloured kaleidoscope through the inky sky above. Falling, falling, falling; swimming and floating. Dreams; pulsing and spinning through the lonely, silent universe to here. Their anchor place.

Dreamfall. An apt name indeed. You’re dizzy, stunned, and incredibly humbled just witnessing it. Has any other human been given such privilege? 

“How many do you think there are?” you whisper. 

“Billions.”

Dream’s voice is a gentle, deep caress beside you. Self-possessed as if he’s counted each one himself. 

Your palm drags mindlessly through the dark sands, each grain sifting through your fingers. Dream Lord jolts at your side, breathing out deeply, but you don’t pay his odd reaction mind, settling into pensive silence. 

“Can you see them?” you ask thoughtfully. “Individually?”

“See them, feel them,” Dream lists passively. His fingers outstretch slowly, aiming towards the boundless black water—no, towards the skies, towards living tendrils of joy and light dancing through the dark. “I need not take them. For they are all… right… here.”

A glow kindles in his open palm, muted, soothing light. It flutters; quivering wings of a scared bird, then settles, safe in Dream’s protective hold, forming a small sphere. A gasp climbs up your throat, but you swallow it down, jumping to your feet and brushing the sand off your palms as you go. 

A woman’s figure moves in the smokey image. She’s cradling a tiny bundle in her arms, her nose brushing over the child’s nose lovingly. It’s a nurturing, beautiful scene. One to leave your heart aching with longing. 

“That’s incredible.” Stepping closer, you reach to touch the glowing globe, but stop yourself last moment. No. There’s no knowing what it would do to this woman if someone like you infringed on her dream. Your fingers shrink backwards, falling back to your side, each digit curling loosely. Dream tracks the gesture intently, his features drawn, so you force lightness into your following words, “For all the splendours in this universe, the Dreaming still manages to delight me the most.”

Dream Lord’s thumb skims over the glowing sphere. Then he extends his arm and blows gently. Like his sand, the dream skips and floats away, soon all but lost in the infinite array of colours. 

“On this night, all living things dream,” he murmurs, concentrating solely on the descending lights. “And those dreams all traverse the universe to find their way home. To the Dreaming. What is it?”

You blink, realising you’ve been caught staring. “It’s just… over five hundred years,” you begin with a small smile. “I thought I’d have you all figured out by now, but you keep surprising me.”

Dream’s chin slants in a slight nod—regal even in these tiniest gestures. For a second, you wonder if you glimpse a sliver of amusement, but you blink, and it’s gone. “Likewise, Wanderer.”

You stand side by side, observing the vivid display. Dream’s features are, for once, relaxed. Softer than usual. 

“You love them,” you choke out, startled by the piercing realisation. “Humanity. Then why…”

He’s gone incredibly still beside you. “Why what?”

Despite the direct prompt, your mouth remains closed. A thousand thoughts swarm through your head. All this time, you had it so wrong. Dream Lord’s stoic, often cold, mien. Even his duty he so uncompromising places first. 

“You look lonely, Dream.”

It slips out before you can give it much thought, talk yourself out of voicing it. You’ve seen how Dream handles such observations. How any label or implication sets his jaw and ignites an ancient flame in him. There’s a reason you’ve never defined your relationship or so much as tried to. Equal parts fear how he would take it—and more painfully—the thought he would admit you mean nothing. 

But Dream Lord is lonely. It’s written in every corner of his handsome, imposing face. Displayed naked and vulnerable in the way he watches these dreams. Such fierce devotion and a need to understand them, even when he struggles with the complexities of humanity. 

“I was wrong about you,” you rush ahead in a whisper, noting the slow spreading coldness painting over his features. “I once thought you didn’t care at all. That you’re above it all. But now I realise just how much you do care.”

Chuckling under your breath, you mentally reabsorb the years you’ve spent by his side. With such crushing responsibility, Dream acts a certain way for a reason. 

“But to have the collective consciousness of all living beings resting on your shoulders… I can’t imagine it.” You shake your head slowly from side to side. A small, sad smile pulls at your lips. “Your sense of duty to them is stronger than anything else. So it’s easier to not show anything. To anyone. Easier to lock it all down.”

Dream displays no outward reaction to your comments. His stare, however, burns into you, simmering with some hidden, potent emotion you can’t decipher no matter how hard you try. “You created this for them,” you conclude fondly, glancing around you. “The Dreaming is your gift to life, to humanity.”

Your heart inflates, stray breaths escaping your parted lips. The coldness and the prickly displeasure have waned from his demeanour with your speech, leaving Dream Lord mute at your side. His quietude fills in all the blanks, melancholic as it is. 

There’s nothing more lonely than endless existence. You’re starting to learn as much intimately. 

"I'm merely abiding by the Old Laws," he says lastly. "Anything is possible here. Let me show you."

Confusion must show on your face because Dream inclines his head towards the pier to your right. 

“What are we doing?” you question, following after him. 

The hem shimmers with Dream's steady gait, illuminating the path ahead. He stalls at the edge of the dock, water beyond stretching as far as the eye can see. 

“Creating.”

“Uh, what?” Understanding sinks in at his deliberate glance. “Dream, I… I can’t dream. I can’t create anything here.”

“You need only to imagine it,” he says. “I will do the rest.”

He gestures for you to take his place. Your feet brush over the pier’s edge hesitantly. You don’t dare to look below. Those depths are treacherous to anyone who isn’t this realm’s creator. 

“How will you know what’s in my head?”

Dream Lord’s presence whispers against your back. His fingers are light when they settle on your shoulder. “When it comes to dreams, I always know.”

You huff. “Fine, show off.” 

“Clear your mind,” he instructs promptly. Not like you expected him to humour you. “Here, tonight, anything is possible.” 

Keeping one hand on your shoulder, Dream raises his other arm, digits extended; relaxed, elegant. With a soft rasp from Dream Prince’s lips, power surges in the air, “We begin… with a spin.”

Dream Lord’s wrist rotates, everything in sight ceasing for a heartbeat, and then the world shifts.

Water plunges inwards, forming a whirlpool, cool spray hitting your skin with a powerful gust. A startled breath wooshes from your lungs, peering down at the ravine wide-eyed. 

You’re not afraid, though. You’re mesmerised. “What should I do?” 

He hears you even over the roaring water. “Change the world,” Dream whispers behind you. The way he says those words makes you believe you can do anything. “Imagine you are free. Visualise it. What do you see?”

“There’s a small island.” The vision springs to mind instantly, shining brightly in your mind’s eye. “Grass that grows there is the greenest there’s ever been. And… it tastes like sour apples.”

“Are you, by any chance, hungry, Wanderer?”

If you didn’t know any better, you would presume he’s teasing you. 

A breathless laugh escapes you. “Shh. I’m focusing.”

The island trickles back into your thoughts, fragments stringing together. 

“The sun that shines on the island is never too hot. The air is sweet and light. The flowers never wilt, trees never shed leaves, and the sky is an endless periwinkle shade. There’s always food and drinks. Books and games. An old friend waits at the beach to greet you with a patient smile whenever you arrive.”

And as you speak it, Dream’s fingers trail over the horizon, weaving and creating what you’re relating. 

“A friend.” He sounds contemplative, with faint curiosity lacing his timber. “Not family or a lover?”

“Not everyone has family, and not everyone needs a lover,” you clarify. Each word wobbles, caught in a spell of his creation. “But everyone should have a friend. The island will be there whenever someone feels lonely, lost, or desperate for an escape. It’ll be there to welcome you. To give you a corner to hide. There is no sadness there. No loneliness or confusion. There’s only…”

“... hope.”

You nod at his hushed conclusion in your ear. Dream’s palm closes gently, forming a fist. The Dreaming exhales, his other hand slips off your shoulder, and in the far distance, an island shudders in the water, settling. Waves slosh loudly, beating against the dock, smoothing into crystal clear moments later. 

Your eyes burn as you stare unblinking at the unassuming island.

“Why do you weep, Wanderer?”

You tuck your face in your elbow instinctively, chuckling thickly. 

"This, no, it's... uh… thank you." Each word cracks with emotion as you mumble the words. Scrubbing your palm over your eyes, you smile softly. "Thank you so much for this."

“You need not thank me,” Dream states, a wrinkle forming between his brows. “The island is now part of the Dreaming. And whenever a soul finds themselves alone or in need of that comfort, they shall find their way here. It came from you.”

Does he have any idea how precious this is to you? No words in any tongue could adequately capture how deeply this settles in your soul. You exist. You’re real. The figurine in your pocket and the island visible in the distance are indisputable proof of that. He’s been a constant, a terrible shelter, for so long. But with this, he’s knitted himself in your marrow until your dying breath. 

“Sit with me?” You settle down without preamble, your legs dangling over the edge. You never want this night to end. “Just for a little while,” you add quietly. 

Dream lowers his head in consideration. Much to your unspoken surprise, his limbs fold elegantly beneath him, the golden edges of his coat pooling around him. 

Your head drops back, watching the falling dreams. He does the same. 

You don’t speak, and neither does he. Neither of you needs to. 

Everything that ought to be said is expressed in the comforting stillness between you. 

an: personal hdc is that before Corinthian escaped into the human world to wreak havoc, he had other ways to keep himself busy heh.

also, be sure to savour the happiness because it sure isn't going to last : )

#the sandman #the sandman x reader #netflix sandman #sandman x reader #dream x reader #dream of the endless #dream x fem!reader #morpheus x reader #morpheus x fem!reader #the sandman netflix #tom sturridge #fic: today i bury you in me

[hard-core-super-star]

make every mistake [H.Steinfeld]

pairing: hailee steinfeld x reader

summary: you run into your ex at the vanity fair party, almost a full year after your breakup, and are forced to accept some hard truths.

warnings: technically none; bitter exes being bitter but also getting distracted; A LOT of references to cheating [very open to interpretation, though; more than one reference to JA; rubix please get over sunkissing challenge; did not proofread at all so it might not make the most sense at times; does this count as a ventfic?

wordcount: 1.5k

a/n: i was supposed to be writing something else [what a surprise lmao] but...it's sunkissing's anniversary and unfortunately, that song still means a lot to me and i needed to be nostalgic for a second. plus, last year's vanity fair party is what inspired me to start writing fanfiction again so...consider this a very weird, bitter, and nostalgic first anniversary celebration. i hope you enjoy and thank you so much for your love, support, and patience this past year, i plan to continue writing for you guys for a LONG while <3 [and yes, this is sunkissing (sad girl edition)]

* * * * * * * Whoever coined the phrase,”wrong place, right time,” as a good thing seriously owes you some compensation. It implies that there could be something possibly good in the situation you’re in but what could be good about being stuck at the same party your ex is also at?

Of course, that person might get along with your friends who have been trying to convince you that this situation is a fantastic opportunity for you to show how happy you are. Something that would work if it were true.

But it’s not.

How could happiness be anywhere on your radar when every time you interact with someone, they’re quick to remind you your ex-girlfriend is currently parading around with a quarterback? Not to mention, the amount of cheating rumors hasn’t been helping you feel much better about the situation.

Maybe you’re overly petty or arrogant, maybe even codependent, but time has done little to heal the wounds caused by a certain actress.

Which is why you were supposed to be out having fun in the first place…although maybe all of this could have been avoided if a certain 22-year-old hadn’t lied her ass off and told you there was no chance in hell your ex would show up.

All you know is you’re stuck in a room full of people you don’t care about, anxiously looking around every few minutes hoping you won’t run into her. It’s exhausting but it’s also highly addictive.

You’re in the middle of debating ditching Billie and the rest of your friends instead of torturing yourself for another hour when you catch a glimpse of the person you’ve been trying to avoid all night. 

Your eyes find her for just a few seconds and yet the whole world seems to stop all at once. 

Just like the first time.

You wouldn’t say you have a habit of romanticizing the past…except when it comes to Hailee Steinfeld and her ridiculously enchanting energy. A lot of things have changed since the day you met but the one thing you’re sure will remain a part of you forever is the way your heart takes off running when she's around.

Running away would be easy. It would probably be the solution to your impending problem and yet you stay. Because as much as you hate to admit it…you’ve missed her. Seeing just a glimpse of her feels like ecstasy after spending so long trying to erase the thought of her from your mind.

You know you’re chasing after someone who isn’t even there anymore, someone who vanished the day Hailee chose to go out to dinner with that guy instead of coming home to you. The person you love has been shoved back into far more closets than you can count but you’re an addict and the thought of getting her back for just a few minutes gives you a greater high than anything else ever could.

So, despite the thousands of reasons not to, you find yourself walking toward her. You tell yourself it’ll be fine, she’s in the middle of ordering a drink and the chances of her paying attention to you are close to zero.

You quickly learn close to zero isn’t enough.

You arrive at the bar right when she’s turning around to go back to whoever it is she’s pretending to get along with tonight. Her eyes instantly find yours and whatever liquid courage you had fades away in that very same instant.

For a second, you expect her to walk away without even acknowledging your presence, but then her mouth opens. “I can’t believe you actually left the house for this.”

There were a thousand sentences you were hoping to hear her say and the one she chose is nowhere on it. It does nothing except remind you of all the infuriating reasons why you can’t be around her anymore.

“Gee thanks, don’t sound too excited.”

She merely shrugs, acting like she can’t see the way your smile drops. “Just being honest.”

At some point in your relationship, you would have made fun of her for sounding so much like the characters she loves to play on TV but today, her attitude pisses you off like nothing else.

“Honest, huh?” You scoff. “That's gold coming from the cheater.”

There’s a flash of something in her eyes, mostly annoyance, and you know damn well that’s exactly what you’re looking for. A sign that she’s still human despite how much she loves to pretend like she doesn’t have feelings anymore.

Unfortunately, you’re sure her reaction has more to do with the fact that you’re in a room full of people who could overhear you than anything else.

“Oh, come on. I didn't cheat on you,” she says in the exact same tone as all the times before.

“Right, right, you just casually had dinner with your new boyfriend while we were still dating.”

A crack begins to form in her facade but you’re too annoyed to celebrate. 

All she does is groan before placing her drink down on the bar and coming toward you. She wraps her hand around your arm, seemingly unaware of the sparks her touch ignites, and drags you toward the first secluded area she finds.

“Are we seriously going to have this fight again?” She questions you once you’re away from prying eyes.

“Sure,” you reply. “The only thing we ever do is fight.”

“Stop acting like I’m the only one in the wrong here. We both made mistakes.”

You scoff. “You’re right, I trusted you wholeheartedly. What a stupid mistake.”

“Oh my God.” She throws her hands up, frustration dripping out of her every pore, and yet she makes no move to walk away from you. “You haven’t changed one bit.”

“Changing isn’t always such a good thing. Just ask Martini and Brando, I bet they love the weather in Buffalo.”

It’s another cheap shot and you know it. Most of all, you see it. The flash of hurt that lingers in the eyes you know so well. 

“Don’t,” she warns.

You can’t stop yourself from adding more fuel to the fire despite her warning. “Why? Is that more honesty than you can handle?”

“y/n, stop. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’re right, I don’t know. Because I have no idea who you are anymore.”

It suddenly strikes you that you’ve had the same exact conversation with her before. You don’t know why you keep doing the same thing and hoping for a different ending. Especially considering Hailee is the most stubborn person you’ve ever met.

“You’re not the only one,” she says with a sigh, practically deflating in front of your eyes. “Believe it or not, you’re not the only person I’ve disappointed lately.”

“No offense but that’s the most accurate thing you’ve said in a while.”

A small chuckle escapes her and the sound instantly brings you back to simpler times. To spontaneous dates at the beach, random car drives to the middle of nowhere to watch the sunset, sleepless nights spent helping her rehearse for an early morning shoot the next day.

To being in love.

Back when your love actually mattered.

“Do you ever regret it?” You find yourself whispering into the space between you after a long silence. “Regret us?”

Her answer might split you in two but you're tired of the desperation that clings to you from the sheer amount of unsaid things that still linger in your mind. 

“No,” she replies, her voice so quiet you almost miss it. “I regret how things ended, I regret what I did to you…do you?”

You shake your head before you can stop yourself, the truth spilling out of you just as fast as the tears that painted your face the day she left. “I regret…how much I love you…how impossible it is for me to hate you.”

For a split second, you catch sight of the Hailee you once fell in love with. The one with warm eyes and the softest smile imaginable. The one who could easily break your walls down with a single chuckle. 

“Give it a few days,” she replies. “It’ll stop being so impossible.”

 It’s ridiculous how enamored her words make you. It’s also stupid and infuriating that no matter how badly you want to walk away from her, you can’t find a way to make your feet move. You’re stuck and that growing smirk on her face tells you she knows exactly how much you’re struggling.

“No witty comeback?” She questions, her head tilting slightly to the side in an almost mocking gesture.

“I’m just trying to decide if I should slap you or not.” Your words hold no real bite to them, even if you wish they did, and you both have to pretend neither of you notice the way you lean toward her.

Her eyes betray her as they slide down your face until they reach your lips. Her gaze rests there for longer than would be appropriate for an exchange between old friends. But you’re not old friends. You’re something more. Something that exceeds categories and reasons.

Something that rests completely in the space between your mouths.

It should be easy to turn away from her…but it isn’t…and you can’t stop yourself from meeting her half-way when she leans in close enough for you to feel her breath on your lips.

It’s a mistake.

But it’s one you make as easily as falling in loving her.

#hailee steinfeld x reader #hailee steinfeld x female reader #hailee steinfeld x you #hailee steinfeld x y/n #hailee steinfeld fic #hailee steinfeld imagine #hailee steinfeld fanfiction #hailee steinfeld #hawkeye #mcu #mcu fanfiction #marvel #wlw #wlw fic #writing

[digitaldiarystuff]

Unexpected Pt.2

firstly, i’m so sorry about disappearing from here and hopefully i can be back🥺

————

pairing: Ruben Dias x Y/N

summary: falling for your best friend is a bad idea, everyone knows that but what if it’s too late?

genre: again, a bit of everything

————

The ceremony started and everyone was seated, you may purposefully sat away from Ruben but that’s not important. Your mind was going crazy with thoughts, you weren’t even together so why were you affected about them? Everything was going well for the wedding and you were trying to help with everything keeping Elena close to you all the time, you were afraid if she ever left you had to greet Ruben and Angela.

“Hey Y/N, can you check the stereo in the garden and make sure the sound quality is ok?” the bride’s mom asked you and you happily obliged seeing this as a way out to clear your mind.

You walked into the garden which was decorated with white and pink flowers and had a big dance floor in the middle for the after party. It was looking over the lake and it was beautiful, you even forgot about the task in hand and walked over to the edge looking at the view when a voice startled you.

“It looks amazing.”

Ruben.

“Yeah, yeah it does.” you said without even turning to him. You didn’t know how to face him now.

“Are you avoiding me?” he asked. Ruben was always very direct and this was one of his better qualities most of the time but not tonight.

“No of course not. I’ve just been busy.” you lied but both of you knew it wasn’t true.

“You know you can’t lie to me.” he came closer and stood with hands on the railing next to you. You didn’t even know what to say but he continued.

“So I guess I owe you an explanation.”

You turned to him for the first time and wished you hadn’t, being this close and looking at his eyes were making you emotional and it was utterly embarrassing.

“When I went away with the team, Angela was there with her friends and she asked to have dinner so I went.” he took a deep breath like he was out of it. “And then she told me she still loved me and asked me for another chance and I- I don’t know I guess it felt good to hear her say those things so it kinda happened. And I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you earlier, I actually wanted to but she came to Manchester with me and I’ve only been back for two days and I didn’t want to say this on the phone” he ended his word vomit.

“It’s okay Rubes, you don’t need to explain yourself to me. I’m happy for you.”

It wasn’t a lie, you were happy that he was happy. You loved Ruben with all your heart and being his best friend for years means you knew he wouldn’t do anything to upset you specifically, you were just collateral damage. The only thing that was out of the ordinary was the slightest hint of nausea and hurt you felt but that should pass quickly, right?

“No I have to because I don’t want to hurt you.”

A little too late, you thought.

“You didn’t hurt me Ruben, we’re just best friends and you know I like Angela. Anyway, I should get back inside they’re waiting for me.” you put on a hopefully believable smile and walked away before he could say anything.

He knew this wasn’t best to bring Angela here without telling you they were back together but she didn’t give him the chance and he was being a little coward if you really think about it but the thing that stung him the most was you didn’t even look at him for more than 4 seconds or hugged him after being away for a month and it was all his fault.

For the rest of the night you successfully avoided them and devoted yourself to your friend and her happy day. It’d be selfish to not celebrate with her because of your own reasons. As you were dancing around your eyes fell onto Angela, she was standing there alone with her phone in her hand and she looked rather uncomfortable. You knew you should at least say something. Your relationship should go back to how it was, both with her and Ruben asap.

“Hey Angela.” you smiled and made your way and she looked up and smiled to you.

“Hey Y/N, it’s been a while.”

You hugged her.

“Yeah, I heard you are back together.”

“Yess, it was certainly unexpected but I’m happy that he reached out.” she beamed and your smile faded a little.

“Did you say he reached out?”

“Yeah, I was also over there and he saw my story and sent me a text asking me to come over to his hotel and tbh I thought he was just giving me a bootycall but turns out he wasn’t.” she happily answered and your mind went blank. Ruben lied to you, even after everything he couldn’t even be honest.

“Do you know where he is, I’ve been trying to find him for a picture for the bride and the groom.” you said as nonchalantly as possible and she pointed to the building saying he was using the restroom.

You thanked her absentmindedly and made your way inside. It was one thing for him to get back with her and you could accept it but lying to you… Why would he do that? You found him just exiting the building making his way into the party.

“Oh hey Y/N” he said with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes but you couldn’t care less.

“Can we talk?”

“Yeah sure, do you want to sit here?” he pointed the chairs behind you and you nodded.

“Ruben I’m only going to ask you once, why did you lie to me?”

“What?” he said with confusion

“Why did you lie to me and said Angela reached out to you first? Do you really think it matters? You weren’t over her, okay no problem. Why didn’t you tell me that and created a whole story about her texting you and asking you for dinner?”

After you finished speaking Ruben stood there silently for a while and you couldn’t really wrap your head around his lie.

“I’m sorry” he mumbled

“That’s all you have to say?”

“What do you want me to say?” you could see he was getting frustrated but it wasn’t your fault.

“Tell me why you thought you needed to lie Ruben?”

“I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“Do you think I’m in love with you or something?” you said without even thinking. Your newly found feelings for him will forever be a secret anyway.

He looked up at you for the first time and you could see he’s sad.

“I’m sorry did I offend you saying I’m not in love with you?” you were getting heated. “Because Ruben, if I was, it wouldn’t matter who initiated it.”

“I know and I’m sorry.” he said and looked at you with puppy eyes, those eyes could make you melt a few days ago but today all you felt was heartbreak and anger.

“I think it’s best if we kept our distance for a while.” You tried getting up to leave but he quickly held your wrist making you sit down again. When he made contact with you, you felt all the control leave your body and you hated yourself for it.

“No. I don’t want that.” he was firm with his answer. “I won’t allow that.”

“Well it’s not your choice at this point.” you pointed out and he knew you were right but couldn’t accept it.

“No, I can’t let you walk away from me.”

His eyes were like fire, you knew Ruben could never hurt you but his demeanor change was drastic. You felt yourself desperate under his intense gaze and started considering how can you cope with this situation but suddenly you grew a backbone realizing this is his doing and he needed to face the consequences just like you were facing consequences for falling for your best friend.

“I’m not asking you. I’m telling you I don’t think I can be in your life right now, you can’t have your cake and eat it Ruben. I’m done.” you said and firmly stood up leaving him there to tell your friends you were heading home because of a headache which wasn’t completely a lie.

You had to put Ruben and everything that reminded you of him in your past, at least for a while.

#football #football imagine #football x reader #football x y/n #football oneshot #football x you #football blurb #football one shot #ruben dias x you #ruben dias angst #ruben dias fluff #ruben dias oneshot #ruben dias x y/n #ruben dias x reader #ruben dias imagine #ruben dias #manchester city

[flowersandbigteeth]

Your first day with your alien husband

General Plot: You finally get your glasses fixed and begin sorting out matters of becoming an archduchess

Word Count: 3.5k

Kherae alien x female reader with glasses

💕 SFW MASTERPOST 💕

W: a bit of angst, sfw alien fluff

Tags: @almostoriginalartisan @lizzhearthz

“I want you to teach me more about managing the family estate, brother,” Dessin said as Idreod choked on his morning coffee. It was one of the few human inventions he really admired. It was bitter and earthy. Delicious. He was annoyed his brother was spoiling it. 

“What are you talking about?” he asked sharply, setting down his mug. “Why this all of a sudden?” 

He set his jaw. 

“I’ve been useless in the past, but I’ve grown up a bit. I want to be an asset to our family. You don’t think I hear the way the staff snicker about me? They think all I’m good for is perfume recommendations for their girlfriends. That was fine when I was young, but now I want some responsibility,” he said. 

“Dessin, this is work,” Idreod said, “not a game. If you want to play around I’ll give you a hundred million credits and you can invest in human cryptocurrency or the stock market. I’m told it’s amusing.” 

He growled. 

“You are always like this!” he snapped, “how can I grow if you are always treating me like a child?” 

“Don’t throw a tantrum. Why don’t you visit Gedra for a few days? Get your dick sucked and meet a new plaything,” Idreod said, already bored with this conversation, “I’ll send all your friends this time in celebration of my engagement, all expenses paid. You can call it my bachelor party, isn’t that what human men have?” 

He made a noise in the back of his throat. 

“You are not taking me seriously, Idreod!” he growled. 

Idreod barked out a tight laugh. 

“Of course I’m not Dessin. You’ve never done anything serious in your life and that’s fine. You’ll never have to want for anything, so why are you so upset?” 

He stood and glared at him. 

“You are so sick, brother. You get off on being superior to everyone but deep down you’re just a lonely fool. Someday you’ll find yourself alone with a knife in your back,” he hissed. 

Idreod rolled his eyes at him. 

“Will you be the one to put it there? Then who will pay your pleasure house bills, Dessin? Don’t be foolish. The humans have a saying. Don’t bite the hand that feeds you little brother.” 

He jumped up from the table, knocking his chair to the floor and stormed out of the room, which was just like him. 

If he really wanted something he would build it for himself, not beg his big brother for a position. He thought.  Idreod could give it to him, but then he would just get bored in a few months and return to his lifestyle. He wondered for a moment if he should just indulge him a little. He would get bored after all. 

Perhaps he was still a bit bitter from the day before because he shook the thought away. I am too soft on him already. He behaved with impunity, despite how it tarnished their family name, spent money lavishly without a thought for how it was made, and was generally a poor representative of the Zovith family. He didn’t owe him little kindnesses. 

He picked his coffee back up, determined to retrieve his good mood. In a few minutes he would meet his lovely fiance and begin her training. 

—

“That was so fast,” you told the optometrist as he handed you your new pair of glasses.  

“Yes, Kherae manufacturing technology is much more advanced than human,'' the Kheraen doctor said. 

You pulled on the pair and blinked at him as your world came into focus. Like most Kherae he was handsome, but quite a bit older than you with heavy lines in his face and silver tipping his once jet black horns. 

“You know we can have your vision corrected,” he offered, “it is a simple procedure. You’ll suffer a day of blindness while the nanites restructure your lenses, but after that your vision will be perfect.” 

You smiled at him, just happy you could see. 

“Actually, that might be nice,” you said. 

You’d always wished I had good vision, being legally blind was such a limitation. He smiled at you. 

“I will have a consultation added to your schedule,” he said gathering his tools, “we’ll be in touch soon.” 

You thanked the doctor and finished the breakfast the maids had brought you when he left. 

A few minutes later Airies appeared and you got a proper look at him for the first time. He was a lean Kherae, with their signature purple skin and spade tipped tail. His horns were short and stuck out of neatly cropped black hair in delicate arcs. 

“Archduke Zovith will see you, my lady,” he informed you, gathering you up and leading you down the hall to his office. 

You were impressed with the decor now that you could see it. Everything was done in tasteful neutral tones with pretty Kheraen art hung on the walls. Aries noticed you looking and stopped. 

“If there is anything not to your liking, my lady, please let me know and we will change it,” he said, “the archduke has given you free reign to decorate as you like. He doesn’t really care about such things. This office looks the same as every other office on Kherae, it would be nice if you would freshen it up for us.” 

You nodded and hurried along after him. Your heart pattered in your chest. You were about to see your husband for the first time. 

“(Y/N), you look lovely this morning!” you looked up to find Dessin standing in front of you. He was taller than Airies and a bit bulkier with messy golden hair that just covered his ears and black eyes. His horns delicately curled back on themselves in smooth rolls. He was certainly more good looking than you imagined and you blushed a little remembering that you’d kissed him on the cheek. 

“Good morning Dessin,” you said, trying to hide your blush with a little bow.

“Are you on your way to see my brother?” he asked, seeming a little flushed and out of breath. 

“Oh yes,” you said, “he wants to teach me how to manage the estate.” 

Dessin’s face turned chilly for a moment. 

“So he will teach you but not me,” he growled.

You frowned. 

“I’m sorry, did I say something wrong?” you asked. 

He shook the dourness away and smiled, revealing bright white teeth. 

“No, not at all (Y/N). You can’t say anything to offend me,” he said, taking your hand suddenly and kissing it. Your cheeks felt like hot irons. 

Airies cleared his throat. 

“I think we should be going now,” he said tightly. 

You nodded and pulled your hand away. 

“See you Dessin,” you said and followed Airies into Idreod’s office. 

Golden eyes gripped you when you walked in the room and you stumbled into Airies’ back. 

“My lady!” he exclaimed, catching you, but you were looking at the Archduke. 

He was a beautiful male, looking like some kind of god out of a fairy tale. 

His skin was deep plump, making his bright golden eyes shine like polished coins. His hair was spun gold, that fell in a thick sheet down his back. Large, black horns curved backwards in a shallow bow. He had a painfully handsome face. You could see the resemblance with Dessin, but he was so much more, the kind of face that broke spirits. His aura leaked complete power and esteem. 

Large hands splayed across the desk as he rose. 

“Are you well?” he asked, his eyes narrowing. You felt the urge to brush his delicate, gilt eyelashes with your fingertips. With Airies’ help, you steadied yourself and nodded shyly. 

“Do your glasses work properly?” he asked. 

“Yes, thank you for sending the doctor, he was very nice,” you replied. 

“Leave us,” he said to Airies, waving at him sharply. 

When we were alone his eyes inspected you from top to bottom. He smiled coolly and you felt a shiver go down your spine. 

“You are dressed befitting an archduchess,” he said, opening a drawer in his desk. 

You looked down at the purple dress the maids had given you in the morning. It was a scalloped, boat neck, A-line that fell neatly at your knees. They’d even done your makeup and hair to look pristine. Being fussed over would take some getting used to, but you could appreciate having your eyeliner done perfectly every time. 

“You should look like this every day, because you will show up to do business every day,” he explained, “but as a Zovith you must be even more extravagant. Our title is recognized and our rank must be easy to identify when we enter a room.” 

He crossed the room holding a square box, opening it to reveal a platinum and diamond brooch with a large emerald at the center. You swallowed thickly as his large fingers manipulated the delicate piece of jewelry and fastened it to your chest. 

“I’ll give you a new one every day, ” he said, quietly, his eyes intently searching yours. 

You felt your cheeks burn. 

“That’s really too much,” you mumbled. 

He frowned and stood up straight. 

“It is not,” he said, curtly, returning to his desk, “you will have something new every day. My wife will exude a certain status.” 

You crossed your arms. 

“Idreod, isn’t that a bit wasteful? New jewelry every day? Wouldn’t it be just as impressive to open an orphanage or start a food pantry? You can put your name and glitter all over that if you like!” 

He glared at you, but you were becoming more immune to his intensity by the second. You weren't sure why, but he didn’t exactly scare you. He was a lot for sure, but not frightening. Seeing that you weren’t backing down, he blinked and tapped the button on his desk to call Airies. 

“Send in Mr. (Y/LN)!” he barked.

Your heart fluttered as your father entered the room. 

“Daddy!” you squealed, jumping on him. He held you tightly in his arms, breathing into your hair. 

“I was so worried about you ladybug,” he murmured, “you shouldn’t have done this. Please, let’s go home. I’ll sell the shop and we’ll get out of town together. It doesn’t matter.” 

He inspected you carefully. 

“He hasn’t harmed you, has he?” 

You shook your head. 

“No, Idreod has been very…thoughtful,” you said diplomatically. 

He glared at your fiance. 

“Look Mr. Zovith. I know my daughter is very headstrong and foolish, but I’m not okay with this. I’m taking her home right now. This deal is off.” 

“Daddy!” you shouted indignantly. 

He looked at you. 

“Well you are! What were you thinking selling yourself to an alien?” he snapped, “did you think I was just going to give my only daughter away? I’d rather die!” 

“You would have died!” you countered, “Typhon would have killed you!” 

“Which would have been preferable to this!” he went on. 

“Mr. (YLN),” Idreod broke in, “I didn’t bring you here to negotiate. As the father of the future archduchess, you have a role to play as well.” 

Your father’s mouth dropped open. 

“A role to play? Let me tell you-” he started. 

Idreod held up his hand. 

“Mr. (YLN), what kind of future do you want for your daughter? Do you want her to spend the rest of her life looking over her shoulder while you scrape together enough to keep the wolves at bay every month? Who will that loanshark try to sell her to next? Did you know someone attempted to kidnap her on her way here? Who do you think that was? Together, we can provide her a life and I can promise protection. The life she deserves, as royalty.” 

He tapped a tablet on his desk. 

“This is an employment contract. Last night I bought a chain of laundromats. I can’t allow you to keep the one you own, but if you sign this, you will be president of this company. You can see your daughter as much as you like as long as you agree to appear at necessary functions. You also agree to sign a sworn statement saying I met your daughter after I hired you as president.” 

Your father gritted his teeth. 

“I’m not selling my daughter,” he said. 

Idreod gave him a cool smile.

“You are not,” he said, “you are becoming a Zovith.” 

You took your dad’s hand. 

“Daddy, please. Just do this…for me? I wish I could have saved the laundromat, but I won’t let you die if I can do something to stop it,” you said.

He looked at you and rubbed his eyes. 

“Ladybug. It’s not about the-” 

He sighed and crossed the room to Idreod’s desk. 

“Fine,” he said, swiping his finger across the screen, then he glanced up. 

“If you hurt her,” he said, “I will do anything and everything I have to do to end you.” 

Idreod seemed unmoved by his threats, but nodded anyway. 

“Of course,” he said, “I wouldn’t assume any less, but I assure you (Y/N) is in the best hands. I don’t just see your daughter as a means to an end, Mr. (L/N). She will be my precious wife and will be treated like fine china.” 

You weren’t sure if those were placating words, but they shocked you just the same. 

Your father nodded, seeming a little defeated, but still suspicious. 

“If you don’t mind reviewing your new role with my assistant Airies,” Idreod said, “(Y/N) and I still have business to attend to today. There will be time for you to reconnect after work hours.” 

You gave your father an optimistic smile as he clutched the tablet in his hands like a lifejacket. 

“Everything will be alright, daddy,” you assured him. 

It took a few more minutes, but you finally convinced your father that you were safe and he could leave the room to go on with his day. 

“Thank you for saying those things,” you said, when he was gone, “I think it helped.” 

I nodded at her. 

“We are a team,” Idreod said, “I only act to benefit both of us.” 

Your eyebrows bobbed up, but you nodded. 

“Oh…okay,” you said, folding your hands and looking down at them. 

“There’s something we need to do,” he said, “follow me.” 

Idreod was hesitant to do this, but it needed to be done. As Idreod led you past Airies’ empty desk to the first floor of the building, his subordinates couldn’t keep their eyes to themselves, all curious about the new Archduchess. 

He called his personal driver and had you carted across town to the local botanical gardens. 

“What are we doing here?” you asked as he helped you out of the car. 

“We have important business,” Idreod told you gravely. 

He led you through the garden, which he’d reserved just for you the night before. Ahead of you, clouds of butterflies flitted here and there from where he’d had them released for this occasion. 

The roses were in full bloom and the air was sweet with their fragrance. 

“When I came to Earth, you know what stunned me the most?” he asked. 

You looked up at him, pushing your glasses up on your nose. 

“No,” you said. 

“The varieties of flowers,” he commented, brushing a finger over a fleshy bloom, “the foliage of Akhet is mostly purple with few flowers, but Spring here is like its own festival, full of life and color.” 

He looked at you. A flower petal had fallen in your hair. 

“No flower here is quite as lovely as you, though,” he said, plucking the soft scrap from your head. 

Your cheeks burned and he kneeled in front of you, removing the little box from the pocket he had hidden there. 

“(Y/N), will you do me the honor of being my wife?” Idreod asked, presenting you the ring inside. He hoped he was doing this correctly. Aries had suggested some movies to watch for this moment, but he wasn’t sure if it was having the desired effect. Your face darkened and your mouth fell open as your eyes widened. 

“Ah…” 

He frowned. 

“Did you change your mind?” he asked. 

You blinked and then your eyebrows jumped up. 

“Yes!”

His face looked suddenly, actually, quite horrified. It was shocking on such a usually composed alien. 

“...I mean no! Wait..I mean. Yes…I will marry you,” you said, straightening your dress, nervously. 

A genuine grin bloomed on his face for the first time that was not related to someone else’s death. Your acceptance was far more satisfying than he expected. He felt warm and tingly all over. He reached out for your hand and you shakily held it out to him. 

Your fingers were trembling while he slid the ring on to the right one. 

He stood and took your arm. 

“Come, let’s take a moment to celebrate before we have to return to the office.” 

You nodded up at him, your face flushed. 

He led you to a pagoda in the center of the gardens where he’d had his staff set up a violinist and some champagne. 

“You arranged all this?” you asked, seeming stunned. 

He looked down at you. 

“Of course, is it not traditional for human brides?” Idreod asked. It was possible he had misunderstood some cultural nuance. 

You blinked at him. 

“Um…I guess so…Usually the groom does something special,” you mumbled. 

“Then what’s wrong?” he asked. 

Your eyes became a little wet. 

“It’s just all so lovely. I never expected…I’m sorry, I’m getting a little emotional,” you said. 

“Have a glass of champagne,” he offered, releasing your hand and popping the bottle for you. 

He handed you a glass and you took a thirsty sip before giving him a wet smile. 

“Maybe I’m just a little sad,” you said, sighing, “this is so perfect, almost like I had always imagined it, but I thought it would be with someone who loved me.” 

You gouged him with your honesty, but there was something so pure about it, he couldn’t really be hurt. 

He tipped your chin up to him. 

“You are so lovable, (Y/N),” he told you, “do you believe in fate?” 

You blinked at him. 

“I don’t know. I’ve never had any reason to,” you said. 

“In Kherae culture it’s believed that the goddess guides us to our fated mate, our perfect counterpart,” he explained, unsure if he should even be saying it, “I never put much stock into it to be honest,  but if it’s true and I have a fated one. I hope that it's you.” 

Your cheeks darkened again, but he refused to let your chin go and instead leaned his head down to press his lips against yours. 

Idreod had never kissed before. It was some kind of magic. 

Your heart exploded in your chest as you felt his soft flesh grazing yours. He tasted sweet and tart with champagne on his lips. His fingers flew to your cheek, drawing you closer. You wanted every ounce of him. His tongue slipped past your lips, exploring you and you welcomed it. You had no way of knowing this but you could have taken whatever you liked, as fast or as slow as you wanted it. From that moment forward, everything that was his became yours. 

When you parted, you stared up at him, your fist clutching his chest while he panted. 

Airies cleared his throat and you both looked up to find him standing patiently to the side. 

“I’m sorry to interrupt you, Master,” he said in his usual polite way, “but the schedule demands we move on, unless you would like me to cancel your afternoon appointments?” 

Idreod straightened himself and collected the glass from your hand. 

“No, you’re correct. There’s a lot to get (Y/N) caught up on.” 

#alien fluff #sfw alien fluff #monster fluff #sfw monster fluff #exophelia #x reader #monster x reader #alien oc #alien x reader #yandere male #yandere fluff #yandere x reader

[noosayog]

wc: 700

warnings/content: non-con? (sfw)

part 7. directory here.

--

A while ago, you and Atsumu had made plans to celebrate the end of finals week by taking a trip to a nearby town for the weekend. With the events from last night looming above you, that obviously isn’t happening so you pack your things and sneak out to make the earliest train to your hometown to escape potential confrontation. 

There was a part of you that had hoped that Atsumu had camped outside your door the entire night to catch you and desperately apologize and beg you to stay. Shame burned at your cheeks when you scanned the entire hallway and found it empty and clear as it is any normal day. 

With that, you speed off to the station before you can embarrass yourself any further. 

–

The break at home is welcome. Not to say that you’re not still utterly heart-broken, but the reprieve from Atsumu is much needed, however short. You steel yourself for the inevitable encounter as you return to your apartment a week later, making sure to wipe any delusions of Atsumu waiting for you from your mind. Anticlimactically, you survive the short trek from your building entrance to your door in peace.

It’s much later, when you’re leaving for your first class of the semester that it finally happens. By now, you’ve had plenty of time to run all the possible scenarios and plan your respective responses. Predictably, he marches straight up to you when your eyes meet. You immediately move to avoid him but you must be equally predictable to him because he grabs hold of your wrist before you can put any more distance between you two. 

“Where have you been,” he breathes. 

Yep, you had thought through this scenario. This is manageable. 

“Away from you,” you return evenly, trying to twist out of his grip. 

He sucks in a breath at that, like you had just punched him in the gut. Not a bad idea.

“Baby-”

Pet names were scenario C of your imagination. Nothing you can’t handle. 

“Don’t call me that,” you say, still trying to writhe away. 

He tightens his hold and pulls you that much closer. This makes you stiffen up. You had thought of the physical contact route, but had no countermoves for his brute strength. 

“Let go,” you seethe. 

“Not until you let me apologize.” 

“You can apologize all you want. I won’t accept anything, and nothing is going to change,” you recite your practiced lines. 

Atsumu seems to be figuring out what is and isn’t working, and words aren’t, so he focuses his efforts on keeping his hands on you. 

“What can I do, then?” 

“Nothing,” you answer. “We were nothing anyway, so you don’t have to act like you owe me anything.” 

You know you’re being cruel. But you just want to hurt him, make him feel what you felt. 

It works because he clenches his teeth, jaw tightening. 

“You know that’s not true.” 

“Who cares if it isn’t? You clearly didn’t.” 

He groans in frustration. “Why can’t you just- and why are you so-” 

He’s talking in a frenzy, a mix of unfinished thoughts and voice raising in volume. 

You’ve practiced a line that would end all this uncertainty. You’re late to class, you rationalize. This has to end so you can move on, you convince yourself. 

Deep breath in. 

“Miya,” you cut him off authoritatively. “There’s one thing you can do.” 

His eyes widen; he thinks you’re throwing him a bone. 

“Fuck off and stay away from me. I don’t want anything to do with you and nothing would make me happier than if I never saw you again.” 

Shaky deep breath out. It’s fine, you’re fine, it doesn’t hurt. You’re imagining it. Your vision is blurring a little but you keep repeating it. It’s fine. You’re fine. It doesn’t hurt. 

His grip on you releases, his hand dropping down at his side limply. It’s all going perfectly according to the scenarios you had run in your head. The tears in your eyes were not planned, but you’re fine. It’s fine. It doesn’t hurt. 

The damage is done and you think you’re free to go, so you turn to make your way to class and leave him behind.

That’s when you’re yanked backwards, one arm winding all the way around your waist and another palm sliding under your chin. And suddenly, his lips are on yours.

#noos writes #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu angst #hq fluff #hq angst #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #hq x reader #hq x y/n #hq x you #miya atsumu #atsumu miya #miya atsumu x you #miya atsumu fluff #miya atsumu x reader #miya atsumu angst #atsumu miya x reader #atsumu x you #atsumu x reader