#screw you anon!! now i wanna make this a full fic | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

superblysubpar · 6 months

Text

Princesses Can Slay Dragons Too:

dad!eddie munson x mom!fem!reader

an Easy Like Sunday Morning story

summary: you're overworked and stressed, Eddie's an oblivious but well meaning husband & dad, and a trip to the cabin with familiar faces might be just what you all needed. | even if a fic is not marked 18+, my blog is

7.7k words (listen, I know it has no business being this long. I worked on it for a year. Idk what happened, okay?)

warnings: please read the new "general warnings" on the masterlist linked above - "reader" has a "name/nickname", mentions of Ronance, mentions of alcohol, mom stress and a little bit of description of some blood/injury and parental panic/ descriptions of shock about it. There is a twinge of "poetic", quick descriptions of smut as well as brief discussion of "unplanned" pregnancies.

This started from an ask last March, which I've since lost (so sorry anon if you're still out there), and it grew and sat and grew some more and then sat some more and now here it is. I've grown very, extremely, emotionally proud and fond of it. Hope ya like it! 💛

Summer, 2004

“Baby, volume,” your voice calls out over the faint music playing, the thrum of wheels against the highway and the wind. Eyes remain shut, but furrowed lines form above your brows when you hear the familiar ding of a coin being grabbed. A palm rests on your thigh, fingers squeeze gently around it as the music of the level starts its loop again.

You need a coffee. Or thirty. Yes, thirty is good.

“Squirt,” his tone full of warning, yet somehow still sounding sweeter than the syrup that clings to all of their fingers and the gray fabric of the old van’s seats.

Despite the early morning breakfast stop at McDonald’s being nearly twenty-four hours ago, and your insistence on packed sandwiches and veggies for lunch, and a stop for a sit down dinner - the stale scent of greasy food feels heavy in the air. Which has your brain cycling through the list that will rid your family of the trip when you reach your final destination - get out of the car, wrangle them into pajamas, teeth brushed, fight about sleeping when it’s already almost morning, clothes into washing machine, air out the car, make the grocery list for the week…

Screw coffee - you need a shower, you need a shot of alcohol, you already need a vacation from your vacation.

A particularly loud grunt and the sound of something hitting or fighting or shooting has you opening your eyes, blinking away the sleep in them to find the dark highway lit by two gold headlights, showing off the yellow lines flashing past the driver’s window. Your mouth parts, ready to be the one to tell them no, like you always are, when he stops you.

He grabs your hand, his thumb soothing over your knuckles as his voice drifts gently into the backseat, “Come on, I don’t wanna take it away…”

It’s endearing, the way he always tries, the way he gives them a couple of chances. Because at this point, you’re ready to take the damn game and chuck it out the window. This level is haunting you, all you’ve heard every second of every day, even when you’re peeing or trying to shower. You’re pretty sure you’re dreaming in the pixelated graphics, the sound effects now accompanying your daily tasks.

A loud sigh falls from the backseat and with it, you’re certain the console is nudged one level lower.

You hate that of all of your children, the one most like him is still awake.

Sure, they’re all little gremlins, heathens, as he likes to call them - little tenacious mini monster versions of him that drive you up the wall but somehow make your chest ache with too much love.

But this one, this one takes the cake every time.

Eddie beats you to it again, the silver of his rings glinting in the green light of the dashboard as he lets go of your hand to reach into the back without looking. Out of the corner of your eye you see his bicep flexing, gently shaking the tiny knee in his big hand as he talks to the road sternly, “Lace. Volume off completely until I say otherwise, or Mario and Luigi are my best friends the rest of the week, capisce?”

“Caposh,” she grumbles, big red chucks swinging up towards the console and back down, her little legs don’t quite touch the ground yet, much to her dismay.

You keep reminding her that she has lots of time to be as big as her siblings, that her ever growing shoe size and the jeans you bought for the upcoming school year (which she’s already complaining are too tight - remember, you need to ask Katie about hand me downs from Liv, or shit, maybe even Grace, this weekend) tell you she is going to keep growing - and fast. Part of you can’t wait, and the other part wishes she’d slow down.

The sound vanishes completely and Eddie’s hand finds its way to your thigh again when you sigh. The part that wishes she’d grow up faster stirs, lit by the flicker of resentment when she listens to him so easily and not you.

Eddie’s fingers run up your thigh, then back down, skin beneath the denim buzzing as he squeezes softly and clears his throat.

“I think someone deserves an apology though, don’t you? ‘Cause I believe I heard you were asked already…”

“I’m sorry,” she squeaks and you can’t help but look over your shoulder at her when she does.

For once, her eyes are on you and not the game, big and brown - just like his - and truly sorry. You smile softly as her brows furrow under bangs that just refuse to stay straight. She blows them away with a big huff as she whines, “It’s just so hard.”

Your head nods, temple resting on the seat as you murmur, “Yeah, I know. Thank you for turning the volume off when your dad asked though, I really appreciate it.”

Eddie swallows, his finger aimlessly circles over the skin above your knee as he blinks at the road.

He’s always amazed when you do that.

Far more patient than anyone deserves, far more understanding than any of them appreciate, and much too good to him. For him. Especially with how things have been lately.

Eddie knew it’d been a little rough, with him being gone so much and the kids’ schedules just growing more cramped as they got older - summer was no longer the lazy days of kids riding around on their bikes and doing squat. It was full of sports and clubs, friends, all requiring a constant need to be dropped off, picked up, carted too and fro on seemingly hellbent on never lining up schedules. He’d been trying, he really had, to help you balance it all, but he had tunnel vision for things at work, he was so focused on his own shit he didn’t realize how much everything was affecting you.

How much being alone with three kids, two goldfish (scratch that, one, but still), a dog, and a house that seemed to have endless tasks to keep it running was breaking you.

He finds your hand and pulls interlaced fingers to his lips, kissing your knuckles, your wrist, your palm, all while keeping his eyes on the road. You close yours again, trying to focus on the soft press of his lips to your skin and not the reason why he’s doing it.

You know he’s thinking about last weekend.

On Friday, Caroline had complained that you only sewed new straps on her ballet slippers instead of getting new ones altogether. She was practically in tears because all the other girls in class had new leotards, new skirts, and new shoes and you promised you’d figure something out. She retreated with red cheeks and a slam of the bedroom door, stereo blaring behind it, the cusp of terrible teenage years promising to be worse than the twos.

After that, Michael shoved you off when you tried to hug him as you dropped him at the school for a baseball practice with an exasperated, “God, mom, stop!” - nine was grown up and he was much too cool to be a momma’s boy anymore apparently.

And to top it all off, Lacey had been following you around the house, that stupid game dinging and singing everywhere you went, one of the fish died and Lacey asked when it was coming back, and you somehow burnt the hamburger helper for dinner.

When Eddie got home, he found you hunched over the coffee table next to a precariously placed glass of red wine, a sock in one hand and a shirt in the other, piles of laundry neatly folded around you and your favorite movie playing on the TV. If it weren’t for the position that was sure to have your back feeling rough tomorrow, your soft, even breathing revealed you were dead asleep.

He had tried to ease you up, move you to the bedroom while trying not to wake you like he used to when his body was much younger, but you had shot up at the touch of his hand, the lightest sleeper of a mother of three. You blinked heavy eyelids while mumbling through sleep thick words about lunches for the two eldest who would be gone all the next day. Eddie had assured you he’d make them, and you were fairly certain you were back to sleep before your head touched the pillow.

The next day though, something inside of you snapped.

It had been better than the one before, but not great. You hadn’t showered, there was a leak in the kitchen that hadn’t gotten any better all week. The only break you had all day was picking the kids up from their activities, and making them a snack as soon as they dropped gear in haphazard piles in the entryway.

After hours on hold, you just started clanging around with tools you didn’t know how to use, your head throbbing from the lack of coffee or water and the sound of Mario grabbing another coin somewhere to your right.

Where was the real plumber you had asked Eddie to call? Maybe, if you concentrated hard enough, Mario would leap out of Lacey’s console, climb down the drain, and fight off the little mushroom guy who was-

You smacked the wrench against the pipe, repeatedly, like it had personally threatened you.

“Woah, woah, woah. Sweetheart, stop! You’re gonna break it!”

Eddie grabbed your wrist, pulling you up to see him standing with pizza boxes and staring at you with wide, blinking eyes. For a second, the sight of short curls starting to gray on the ends and lines next to eyes that were constantly squinting because he was smiling or refusing to wear sunglasses, had you forgetting you were mad, or stressed or…maybe you were just tired?

He cocked his head, trying to catch the gaze you let fall to the floor quickly as the kids shrieked about him being home. Eddie didn’t even get his question of if you were okay out before arms were wrapped around his waist and legs, all vying for his attention.

You had swiped at your nose to ward off the familiar sting, pulled down plates and started filling glasses of milk and juice, before shoving the casserole you’d had prepped into the freezer.

Then he snapped his fingers, smoothing a hand over Caroline’s hair and said, “Oh, hold on. I think you’re gonna like what else I brought home a lot more than the pizza.”

He left for the hallway, returning quickly, holding something behind his back that she tried to peek at and he tsked, singing, “Uh-uh-uh. Hold on. Your mom told me you were upset about your ballet slippers…”

Your shoulders rose, the pour of apple juice freezing over the glass.

He didn’t.

He smiled at you, oblivious, then at Caroline’s squeal of excitement and he kept going, “These aren’t new, but my co-worker’s daughter barely used them and…Ta-da!”

Eddie held out a shoebox with essentially brand new shoes and your body felt numb as you listened to her scream how much she loved them and him, squeezing him in a fierce hug as he kissed her temple.

Caroline held them up to you, proudly, and you smiled, nodding, saying something, you don’t even remember what. You ushered everyone to the table.

Lacey stood next to her chair, eyes darting over the hand-held game clutched in her fingers.

“Lacey, put it away, time for dinner.”

Ding! Bloop, bloop, bloop blah-bloop-de-bloop.

Eddie slapped pizza onto plates, licking stray sauce from his thumb, “How was everyone’s day? What’d you do?”

“Lacey, I’m not telling you again. Put the game away.”

Her eyes flew up to yours, something fiery and far to recognizable behind them that made you blink as she just said, “No.”

“Oh!” Eddie passed you pizza, oblivious, “How was lunch? Did dad do as good as mom?” He ruffled Michael’s hair as your daughter and you glared at each other.

Caroline nodded her head enthusiastically around a too big bite and Michael turned to you, pizza in his mouth on display as he talked, “It was so good. Can dad make our lunches every day? His was way better.”

You stood up from the table, without warning and without a word, walked to your bedroom, and slammed the door.

Were you having an adult tantrum? Maybe. Were you proud of it? Absolutely not. But the rush of tears that fell down your cheeks and the sob that overtook you was the kind of angry crying you simply do in private and you had needed to get there quick.

Footsteps jogged down the hallway behind you, the sound causing you to turn the lock on your bedroom door through blurry vision and gasps around your tears. As the knob tried to turn, you moved away with a hand over your mouth until the back of your knees hit the bed.

“Babe, open the door.” Eddie’s voice was soft as the knob rattled again.

“Liv, what the hell, open the door.”

You choked on a sob, fingers still over your lips so you barely got out, “I’m fine, Eddie, just…have dinner without me. I’ll eat later.”

The handle spun back and forth again, the sound of his forehead hitting the wood and his pained tone slicing through you, “Olivia, please open the door.”

You curled yourself on top of the bed, watching the handle through blurry vision slowly stop moving. Closing your eyes as the tears fell swiftly, you prayed it was the kind of crying that would just knock you out and put you to sleep, because god, did you need to sleep.

Only a few minutes later, maybe not even, the door swung open to reveal Eddie on his knees with a flashlight between his lips and a screwdriver in his hands and you, sobbing on the bed.

He jumped up at the sight of you curling your arms around your waist harder, at the way you rolled away from him and pressed your wet cheek into the pillow. At the way your hoarse voice called out, “Please leave me alone Eddie.”

The door closed, the lock clicked, and there was a distinct sound of both items he held dropping to the carpet with thuds. The bed dipped and the heat of his body curled behind you, fingers gently brushed over the damp skin of your cheek and neck.

Your body shook with more tears, eyes squeezing closed tighter when he pressed his nose to the back of your head while his arm wrapped around your waist, and he waited.

The tears eventually slowed, your chest started to fall and rise more evenly, and the light filtering in through your curtains started to turn lavender, then blue. Eddie managed to remove your jeans without waking you, and he pulled the duvet up over your shoulder as he bit his lower lip raw. Your face still didn’t look relaxed, like it was crying and worrying even in your sleep.

He left the room with with his fingers rubbing at the back of his neck, walking past the bathroom where water sloshed over the counter and soap slid down the-

Taking several steps backwards, his mouth opened, then closed at the sight in front of him, before he finally found his words and quietly asked, “Whatcha doing?”

His three children stood in a line in the mirror, looking at him in the reflection. Lacey held a stack of plates and silverware on the left, on her toes, pink socks (that were supposed to be white, but there must have been a laundry incident he was unaware of) fully submerged in bubbles, her little arms hoisting them to rest on the counter halfway. Caroline stood in front of the overflowing, sudsy sink, her hands invisible inside it, and Michael next to her with a rag and plate.

“We’re washing the dishes,” Caroline shrugged, like it was obvious.

He leaned against the doorframe, rubbing at his jaw as he hummed, “I…see that. Why are you doing that in here?”

The three kids blinked at him, and he tried not to smile, because you weren’t kidding that they eerily looked like him when they did that. They were all clearly confused, and then Michael said, “The kitchen sink is broken. It has been all week.”

Eddie closed his eyes, your cursing under your breath and beating up of the pipes when he got home making much more sense now.

All week? Why hadn’t you told him?

Shit, had you told him?

He cleared his throat and he tapped on the frame. “Right. Well, thank you for doing them. Try to stay quiet, mom’s sleeping.”

His body had barely turned out the door before Caroline called out, nervously, “Is she okay?”

Eddie wasn’t a fan of lying, even if it was to protect feelings. But the sight of his three kids with concern evident on each of their faces told him they’d know if he did anyways. Something told him they already knew she wasn’t and it was him who didn’t know the answer.

He sighed, entered the room deeper and kissed the tops of each of their heads, before he threw some towels over the floor that had puddles of water accumulating.

“I think she really needs to sleep, and I’ll talk to her later. But I think you guys doing the dishes really helps. Thank you.”

So while his kids did the dishes in the bathroom sink and you slept, the dog and…one…? goldfish kept him company in the kitchen where he inspected the sink.

It was an easy fix, but he didn’t have the part, and his stomach tensed with guilt as he thought about how you probably, definitely, asked him to look at it or call someone right away and he forgot. A simple drive down the street to the hardware store tomorrow, he’d have it fixed in less than an hour.

He put the tools away in the garage, above the label for them that you must have made and he went into the small office space in search of a post-it to put on the sink. The office was intended for you, but years and kids and projects went by and soon it became a dumping ground of all things house.

When he reached the desk, he found what he was looking for. There were plenty of post-its, in a variety of colors, lined up in a neat row above a large, tightly and neatly filled calendar.

Eddie swallowed as his fingers brushed over the names of his kids, him, the fucking dog and fish - all with their own color. The house, the bills, the errands…all of it had colors, schedules, a science, a system.

But the thing was, you weren’t a part of the system - you were the system.

There was nowhere, in that entire calendar, that had anything remotely relaxing for you on it. No dinner or wine night with any of the girls. No book club with Nancy anymore, maybe because they moved, but he had a feeling it still wouldn’t be there if they hadn’t. No dates with him. He couldn’t remember the last time he took you out, or hell, made you dinner - when was the last time he even cooked dinner for the whole family?

He swallowed as he read over the entire month, and the next and the next. Anything that would have been considered free time, or your time was full of laundry, grocery shopping, dusting the fucking baseboards, because apparently you do everything?

And Eddie knew he had colosally, monumentally, brutally, fucked up.

So when the kids were in bed, and the kitchen was clean, and the lunches for the next day were packed, and the laundry was folded and put away, Eddie crawled back into bed behind you.

He didn’t think you were awake, carefully letting his arm curl around you and his lips brush your shoulder in a wordless goodnight, an apology, a promise to talk about it as soon as you woke up. But then your words floated out and hung in the dark room and a tear slipped down his cheek.

“I’m sorry.”

Eddie sniffled, trying to reign it in, he cleared his throat, but you were already rolling to face him and he had his palms pressed to his eyes as his words left him all scratchy and on the brink of a full blown sob.

“Sweetheart, don’t you dare fucking say it again.”

Your fingers had curled around his wrists and tugged gently, until watery eyes were blinking at your own and you shrugged and whispered, “But I am.”

His lips found yours in a bruising kiss, noses squished together and gasps of air between parting mouths, fingers clutching at hips and necks as your legs tangled.

When was the last time he fucking kissed you like he meant it? Like it wasn’t a quick goodbye, goodmorning, or a hey, doll, how was your day as he half listened?

He shook his head, mouth catching yours in quick kisses between each softly spoken word, “No, I am.”

Your palms pressed to his cheek as your leg hitched over his thigh, breathless as he traveled over your jaw and down your neck for the first time in what felt like months.

Maybe it had been.

“Can you,” you tugged on short curls behind his ears as his tongue traced your collarbone which made you both groan, “Jus-just let me apologize?”

Eddie practically growled out the word no before his lips were back on yours.

It was fast fingers pulling at clothing and sharp teeth nipping at lips and skin, no foreplay, ‘just fuck me’ quick, and quietly because of the kids, kind of sex, until it wasn’t.

It only took him three thrusts to realize it wasn’t what he wanted. Quickly becoming memorizing touches that glided over skin and held with care, it was lips that whispered apologies and all the things he loved about you into yours, quiet and passionate pushing and pulling with each other, and hands gripping the others as you came together and said everything you couldn’t with intense eye contact, fingers deep in the curls at the back of his head as his name left your mouth only to be swallowed by his.

His lips brushed down your shoulder and back up, over your collarbone and chest as your fingers scratched at his scalp gently.

He hummed against your throat before whispering, “I think we should go to the cabin next week.”

“Eddie…” you started softly, already panicking about the missed events the kids would have to make up, the packing, the-

“Stop,” he kissed your jaw, then hovered over your face so his big, brown, sweet eyes could look down at you, “I can hear the stress coming out of you, and I just got it all out.”

You laughed quietly, fingers pressing to your eyes as you shook your head. Unconvinced, and if you were tired before, he’d just made you even more so.

Eddie kissed at your fingers, your nose, your cheek until he was nudging at the fingers again with his nose.

“Baby, I promise, it’ll be a good vacation. I think we could all use it. And I swear, I’ll be the parent. You kick your heels up and get drunk on shitty wine with Katie, okay?”

And here you were, doing just that.

The late/early morning arrival was not the shit show you were sure it was going to be. The kids listened immediately about being quiet entering the cabin at the late hour, especially after Eddie said if everyone woke up, the entire day on the lake would be ruined.

You woke up, without an alarm, for the first time in…you didn’t know how long. Greeted in the kitchen by Steve’s wife, Katie, quietly squealing and grabbing you in a hug that seemed to melt the tension from your shoulders. Eddie handed you a steaming cup of a coffee accompanied with a kiss on your temple and a swat to Steve’s chest when he tried to do the same.

The kids were already showered, dressed, fed - fruit and waffles and minimal syrup thankfully - and outside playing. You had your suspicions this was all largely due to Steve and his wife’s doing. If you dwelled on it too long, the comparison to how much better they were at the whole parenting thing than you could drive you insane, so you tried to ignore it.

There was only one argument with Lacey about the Nintendo, and Eddie snatched it and pocketed it and simply shrugged at her scowl when he did and said, “Told ya, babe.” Michael complained about lunch, but only until Nora, Steve’s eldest and seventeen, said “Oh, I love chicken salad” with a wink in your direction. You’d never seen Michael eat so quickly before and he was a garbage disposal on a good day.

And now, your heels were “up” leaning against the deck’s railing from your spot on the floor, a wine glass was in your hand. Katie was telling you all about Nora’s new boyfriend, Charlie, who Steve positively hated, as Eddie and him stood nearby, with beers and watching meat on the grill or whatever men do.

“Charlie is the least of our worries though,” she waved her hand with an eye roll, sipping the pink wine with a grimace, “I mean, you know. They’re monsters. Why’d we have them again?”

You laughed, shaking your head, “If you think yours are monsters, mine might literally be the devil incarnate.”

She snorted into her glass and you laughed, swiping at your lips with a shrug, “Okay, too far. But god, they’re…I don’t know. But, seriously, you and Steve…”

Your voice fell as the boys yelled over the grill at two of the girls doing cartwheels dangerously close to the fire pit.

“You guys, you really know what you’re doing. You’re a good team.” You smiled sadly, looking at the back of Eddie’s head and then at her.

She was watching you closely, a tilt of her head like she was trying to figure you out, before she grabbed your hand and squeezed it and admitted, “I yelled at him about loading the dishwasher wrong last week. We didn’t talk for three days.” She frowned and shook her head and looked over at him and he flipped his spatula and winked at her and she smiled and turned back to you. “Things aren’t ever what they seem on the outside. We all have shit. It just matters if your shit is something you can trudge through together. If you can help clean it off each other.”

She frowned at the wine she started pouring. “I don’t think this wine is helping with my metaphors, but you get what I mean?”

You nodded, taking in Eddie’s profile as he talked with his hands and got louder as he told a story to Steve.

“Yeah, yeah I do.”

It was silent as you both stared at the guys, sipping your wine, until you whispered, “So he loaded it wrong, huh?”

“So wrong!” She exclaimed, grumbling, “Who puts plates all willy-nilly? They go in a straight, neat-”

“I said I was sorry!” Steve shouted from the grill, his hands on his hips as he glared at the two of you.

Katie stuck her tongue out at him and he shook his head with narrowed eyes and she grinned, a quiet and not as silent as they thought conversation about her paying for that later.

You looked away, smiling into your wine glass when you caught Eddie’s gaze. He looked a little shocked when you made eye-contact, his cheeks flushed pink and you cocked your head with bunched eyebrows at him.

An unanswered silent question though, because the kids all shouted as a black SUV pulled up the long, gravel driveway.

A tall, lanky body jumped out of the backseat of the car before it was even in park, a head full of bouncing red waves shooting across the grass towards the literal swarm of children screaming, “Aunt Robin!”

She was down, on the ground, in literal seconds, the children forming a nice heap on top of her that the four of you all yelled about getting off at the same time, sharing grins that only parents who grew up doing the same thing and feel wrong for telling them not to could.

Your eldest, was bounding over to the car, along with Olivia, ready for the third to round out the little trio of three musketeers - Zoey Wheeler.

As they hugged and squealed about being back together, you all started down the steps to greet the late arrivals.

You couldn’t help but notice Caroline standing a touch away from Olivia as the two other girls gossiped about something from school.

But then Nancy was enveloping her in a tight hug, “Hey kiddo, hear you’re gonna be in the windy city pretty soon.”

Too preoccupied with your own waving of arms to tell her to stop talking, you didn’t notice Eddie whip his head over at Steve, who blinked with his hands raised.

Your head fell as Caroline turned to you with curious eyes and a quiet, “What?”

Eddie opened his mouth to explain, but you were already talking, him blinking behind you.

“I…I haven’t even told your dad. It was supposed to be a surprise for your birthday. You and me, driving to Chicago to go to this dance store that Zoey and Olivia go to. It’s not new stuff, but their dance troop shops there and it’s all really nice stuff and - oof!”

Caroline’s arms were squeezing you harder than they ever had, face pressed against you as her words got lost and muffled, but didn’t lose their meaning when she said, “Thank you so much mom.”

Your fingers ran over her hair, lips pressed to the top of her head as you enjoyed the hug for as long as she’d let you. “Of course, honey. Happy early Birthday.”

The girls quickly started discussing what they’d do on the trip, and Nancy winced out an apology you told her was unnecessary as you hugged, all while Eddie gulped down his beer and Steve narrowed his eyes at him which made Eddie wave him off, grabbing another beer out of the cooler.

“I am in need of assistance,” Robin called weakly, from her spot on the ground, now abandoned by all the children who were quick to return to their activities.

Nancy sighed and drawled dramatically, “Coming, dear.”

Robin groaned from the ground, but giggled. “Thank you, sugar-pie.”

“Robs, I’ll leave you down there…” she warned.

“Fine,” Robin shrugged, blue eyes staring up at the matching sky, “Dingus will-”

He was already hoisting her up, and grabbing her in a big hug only the two of them could find comfortable from the amount of squeezing suffocation.

Nancy looked at you and Katie and sighed.

“Wine.”

You were both already handing your glasses over with smiles before she could finish the word.

She was thoroughly tipsy by her third glass, and the stress you could sense when she arrived - maybe it was a thing all you mom’s could sense, or maybe it was because of being old friends - was melted from her face as she called out, loudly, excitedly, “Robin!”

“Yes, my love?”

Robin’s legs swung as they dangled from her hoisted up spot on the railing by the men. A baseball hat turned backwards over waves tinted red and silver and a sly smirk resting on her lips as she looked at her wife with more love than should be possible in a human.

Nancy’s cheeks flushed and you all snickered into your glasses, because you all knew what was coming next.

“I, uh,” Nancy cleared her throat, as big, blue eyes tried to blink innocently, “I need to talk to you. Inside.”

Robin grinned and nodded, “Lead the way, Wheeler.”

Nancy frowned, but clumsily made her way inside with a giggle.

With a hop down, a salute, and a quiet, “Duty calls, boys,” Robin followed, all of your “boos” and “ow-ow-ow’s” slammed on by the door.

Katie pulled out a stack of cards, the boys finally came over and joined you, and your legs crossed over Eddie’s lap as you hid your deck from him with a terrible poker face.

He soothed his thumb over your ankle bone, wet his bottom lip before he grinned at you. “Baby, remind me to never take you to Vegas.”

“You have taken me to Vegas.” You touched your cards to your nose, hiding your grin.

Eddie sucked his teeth as he nodded, “Right, right, how could I forget.”

“Seriously dude,” Steve moaned at his cards, frowning, “Vegas was a mistake.”

Katie smacked the back of his head and he flinched, but with a glint in his gaze at her, “What the hell was that for.”

“They got Lacey because of Vegas,” she scolded, “It wasn’t a mistake.”

“Believe me, I remember. I don’t remember much, but that I do. It’s sort of hard to forget the results of that trip. What with the children who came out of it. Lacey, Annie and-”

“Luke is stupid!”

Steve sighed at the now sherbert colored sky. He groaned, “I knew it was too good to last.”

You rolled your eyes as you dropped your legs from Eddie’s lap as Lacey stomped up the stairs, huffing. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Eddie sit up, but you were already grabbing at your daughter’s crossed arms and pulling her towards you.

“Woah, super mean word, let’s think of a better one.”

“A buttface!” She frowned, but didn’t resist your embrace as she climbed onto your lap, a privilege that was fleeting.

“Nope, try again.” You shook your head, letting your chin rest on the top of her head as a hand soothed up her spine, while hers gestured wildly in search of the right word.

“He’s…he’s…impossible!”

You hummed, great word - especially for a seven year old.

“Why is he impossible?” You asked quietly, Katie taking the hint and getting Steve and Eddie to go back to a semi-normal conversation and their cards.

Lacey fiddled with your shirt collar, grumpy and big lips pouting just like her dad. “We were playing Dragons, and he said that I had to be the princess and stay in the tree house while he fought the dragon and saved me! I don’t want to just sit there!”

Steve smiled around the lip of his beer and Katie rolled her eyes, looking at you with a mouthed, “We’ll talk about that later.”

“Ah,” you adjusted in your seat, hugging her closer as her fingers roamed to the necklace around your throat. “I would be frustrated by that too. I like helping. I don’t want someone to come rescue me, either.”

You glanced up at Eddie who smiled softly at you, watching intently.

“Right. So I’m not playing. I don’t like him anymore,” she huffed, breath warm on your already sweaty skin and fingers leaving something sticky and smelling like pine trees all over you.

“You don’t, huh?”

“Nope,” she popped the ‘P’, but her gaze wandered over to the yard where the boy in question fought his sisters with sticks.

It took you a bit, and maybe you were just soaking up the smell of her strawberry shampoo, or the way she fit perfectly in your arms, but you finally asked softly, “Hey, you remember Dimitri and Anya?”

Lacey shifted with a dramatic sigh, but she nodded.

“I’m pretty sure they didn’t like each other either. But, then Anya showed him she could do anything he learned to do, right? And he listened to her? She helped save him in the end, remember?”

“Spoilers!” Steve grimaced and Lacey giggled which he smiled and booped her nose at.

“So,” you lifted your daughters chin, big eyes that reminded you of someone else peering at you unwaveringly as you continued, “You go tell that Harrington boy that Princesses can slay dragons too.”

“They can?” Lacey asked, unsure, unconfident, in a way that melted your heart, put it back together and melted it again.

You nodded and cleared your throat, trying not to cry. “Absolutely.”

She started to climb off of you, but you tugged at her waist, brushing a curl behind her ear as you smiled, “And baby?”

“Yeah?”

You kissed her forehead and whispered, “It’s okay to need some saving sometimes. If you want or need the help, kay?”

She nodded, kissed your cheek, and hopped off, bounding down the stairs with a sing-song call to her tone, “Ohhhh, Luuukkkee!”

Lifting the cards from the table, you smiled at the sound of your daughter antagonizing a Harrington and before you could make a jab at Steve, fingers were under your chin, and Eddie was tilting your head, lips on yours and stealing all of the air from your lungs.

His tongue swiped over your bottom lip and his hand cradled your jaw as you opened for him without thought, fingers curling into the fabric of his t-shirt until loud clearing of throats came from your right.

You broke away with a gasp, but Eddie pulled you back in for one more press of his lips and a whispered, “Sorry,” as he sat back down looking not sorry at all.

Steve tried to hide his grin as he threw a chip into the pile and Katie grinned at you as she quipped, “Wow, guys, you’re worse than the lovebirds inside.”

Eddie didn’t look up from his cards, but he raised his eyebrows. “I seem to recall an incident in my home on my kitchen counter on my daughter’s first birthday, Katherine.”

“Touche, Edward, touche,” she beamed as Steve choked on his beer.

He quickly changed the subject, swiping beer from his lips as he looked at you. “You’re gonna have to show me how you did that.”

Your wine glass froze halfway to your mouth and he laughed, coughed, covered his mouth with his fist. “I meant the talk with Lace. Not the kissing. Now that you guys’ll be closer we can…”

Eddie hung his head as Steve trailed off and you quirked an eyebrow. “Closer?”

Katie took a large gulp of her wine and Steve gestured to the grill with a hook of his thumb over his shoulder, “I’m gonna…”

“I’ll help!” Katie jumped up and followed.

“Eddie, what’s going on?”

He sighed, set his cards down, scooted his chair closer to you before his hands grabbed yours.

“I got a promotion, sort of.”

“Wh-what? Eddie, that's great!” You squeezed his hands, your heart hammering in your chest because he wasn’t looking at you still. The knowledge that there wasn’t really room for a teacher to get promoted stirring in your brain. “Wait, how…”

He grimaced, thumbs swiping over your knuckles as he nodded. “Right, yeah. So, it’s not so much a promotion, as it is a completely different job, at a completely different school. Or um, University.”

“In…in Chicago?” You were starting to piece it all together.

“Mhm,” he hummed, biting at his bottom lip that you instinctively reached up and pulled away from his teeth gently. He finally looked up at you, worried, and apologetic, but hopeful. “It’s, it’s a really great job. Tons of benefits. At the university. Way more pay. Flexible hours. I’d-I’d be home so much more. And I know, I know that moving is insane. But I just…”

He rambled, and you got lost, because you were thinking about telling the kids, about uprooting your entire life, about never seeing the patch of wall that the kids heights were on again. Your routine, your system, your grocery store, all pulled out from under you.

But then you then thought about how you’d only been on this vacation for a day and how much less stressed you were. How Steve and Katie and Robin and Nancy would be in the same city as you again. About how happy your kids were with all of them, how happy you were with them. The support you’d have. The promise of more time with Eddie. The adventure.

“Okay,” you said softly, interrupting whatever he was saying.

Eddie blinked at you, mouth parted in surprise.

“Okay? Okay what?”

You shrugged.

“Okay, let’s do it. Let’s move. Take the job.”

Eddie swallowed, he scooted closer and he cupped your jaw, thumbs grazing over your cheekbones as he murmured. “Okay, let’s do it, like you’re excited and want to, or okay let’s do it, like you don’t think you have a choice and you’re stressed and sad and I’m gonna have to unlock the door with the screwdriver again?”

“I mean,” you laughed, brushing over the worried lines of his forehead as you did, “Okay let’s do it. It’s gonna suck to move and tell the kids, but I think…”

They always tell you, you see stuff in slow motion in moments of panic, fear, but you never really believe it until it happens to you - seeing it all happen before it did.

“Oh my god!”

You were pushing back from Eddie, yelling your daughter’s name as she climbed up a tree, her foot about to step on a branch that looked dead and rotting even from this distance, and then she was falling.

There was a boy shouting beneath her, and his older sister’s shouting at him, screams of mom and dad that all four of you raced towards.

Everyone’s footsteps except Eddie’s slowed when you saw the eyelids fluttering over brown eyes pooling with big, crocodile tears and the leg already swelling with bright red trickling down from it.

Katie was shouting about grabbing the girl’s from inside, about ambulances and driving. Steve was pulling at all the other kids, reassuring them it was fine, and Eddie was focused on Lacey and Luke.

You don’t really remember what you did. You had arms around you and you spoke, but you don’t know what you said. Ushered into a car by big hands and a little one grasping yours tightly.

In the end, all it was, was a deep gash in her leg, nothing broken. Luke a little worse for wear with a fractured wrist, but he beamed when Lacey signed her name on the cast and asked you how to spell Princess before it, then kissed his cheek and told him thank you for saving her.

The rest of the week was the same as the first day after that, save for the two kids who huddled next to each other on the couch on the deck, their temples pressed together as they shouted at the screen of the Nintendo Eddie gave back almost immediately. Day three of watching his kid that close to a Harrington boy made him rethink the whole move and said it wasn’t happening anymore, which Steve promptly replied with, “Dude, they’re seven. Wait till she’s seventeen and dating a guy named Charlie.”

Nora’s head had perked up from coloring with the younger kids, an expression almost identical to her father’s as she scowled. “I thought you liked Charlie!”

“I do, I do sweetie.” Steve rubbed at his temple and gave Eddie and you a look that said he really did not like Charlie.

Time moved too quickly, and the light-hearted moments turned to memories, and soon bags were packed by the front door, and everyone was restlessly sleeping, not ready to say goodbye just yet.

Which is how you found yourself quietly making your way down the stairs to the kitchen, when you woke up to the empty bed and cold sheets.

You found him in the living room, eyes glued to the hand held device, his thumbs jabbing at it while he frowned.

“She wasn’t kidding,” he whispered, the girl in question tucked into his lap, her leg propped up on a pillow and drool spilling down his white shirt.

His arms flexed with each press, tattoos that were rarely on display anymore dancing under each movement. Short curls that the flecks of gray in stood out in the moonlight. Lines of worry and laughter all over his face, brown eyes gifted to all of your children because of the same ones maintaining their gaze on the console.

You slid onto the couch next to him, curling into his side with a yawn and a gentle rearrange of Lacey’s legs onto your lap. Fingers gesturing for him to give it to you.

Eddie handed it over, his arm scooping Lacey closer to his chest while his other wrapped around your shoulders.

You kept your eyes on the game as you whispered, “I’m sorry.”

The breath huffed out of his nose hit your jaw as he quietly laughed, “Babe, what?”

Mario leaped over blocks as you told him again, “I’m sorry. I froze, I don’t know what happened. Thank you for taking care of her, of all of them, I don’t-”

“We’re a team,” he kissed your cheek, his smile stayed pressed to your skin, “You know, a wise woman once said, ‘it’s okay to need some saving sometimes. If you want or need the help.’”.

A hum from your lips that fought a smile as his fingers squeezed your shoulder. You couldn’t help but grin at the screen though, when you pressed A for the final time.

“I think I know her. Same lady who said Princesses can slay dragons, too, right?”

The screen lit up with little fireballs, trills and chimes coming from the console signifying you beat Bowser - this time, all of which you quickly tried to cover up as Eddie shushed.

“Mommy,” her sleepy voice muffled in his chest.

“Yeah, sweetie?” You whispered, console silenced.

“Volume,” word almost lost to the yawn she gave before she was snuggling back into the crook of Eddie’s elbow and was out again.

Eddie tried not to snort or let his laughter shake her as your mouth fell open in shock and he took the Nintendo back, moving on to the next level.

You shook your head at your daughter, and glanced down at her wrapped and injured leg, at the peaceful features of her sleeping face.

“Man, you’re lucky you’re so cute,” you sighed.

It was silent for a while, and your eyelids started to flutter closed too, when Eddie spoke again.

“I totally thought Bowser was a turtle.”

#eddie munson #dad!eddie munson #stranger things fanfiction #superbly subpars writing #cw alcohol #cw injury #cw blood #easy like sunday morning universe #easy like sunday morning AU

161 notes · View notes

inkykeiji · 4 years

Text

bright light city gonna set my soul on fire

ace anon said: wanna suggest dabi taking you to a poker game as a good luck charm then betting you on a game and losing...or winning and bragging about it by fucking you on the table

genre: smut + implied crooked secret agent/spy AU set in the late 1950s???

notes: AH ace i loved this idea SO MUCH it ended up sparking an entire fic!! heavily inspired by ian fleming’s 1953 novel casino royale + martin campbell’s 2006 film casino royale. it is set in clari’s version of the 1950s and in no way historically accurate!! think of it as an AU of the 1950s, if that makes sense ehehe | title credit: viva las vegas by elvis | songs mentioned in the fic itself: don’t and i beg of you by elvis, rockin’ robin by bobby day

warnings: 18+, period typical use of the word Daddy (not with dabi), inappropriate use of the word Mister, slight degradation, mentioned somnophilia, slight dacryphilia, minimal prep, night terrors, blood, murder, generally toxic codependant relationship, one implied mention of drug use (morphine), mentions of tense family dynamics

words: 8.5k

synopsis:

Yes, as much as he’d like to deny it, it’s true; Dabi fell in love with you the moment he laid eyes on you.

Because Dabi saw more than just a pretty little thing when your gazes first met.

He saw the perfect weapon, a diamond in the rough just waiting—begging—to be cleaned and cut and formed into the most brilliant gem, into the most ideal accomplice for him—because, really, what’s more dangerous than a beautiful woman? Especially when she looks like innocence personified?

Sticky pink candy, translucent and gleaming with saliva, clacks against teeth as you roll the heart-shaped lollipop around in your mouth, twirling the stick between your index finger and your thumb.

Legs kick idly as you lean back on your other hand, seated on the edge of Tomura’s massive, pristine mahogany desk, watching as his personal tailor helps Dabi shrug on a navy tuxedo jacket, stitched and sown perfectly to his measurements.

“I dunno,” he’s saying as he pivots his body a little, making a face at himself in the mirror. “I still think the black looks better,”

Ruby eyes roll up towards the ceiling, a frustrated groan spilling from between Tomura’s lips.

“You always think the black looks better. We’re going with the navy, it brings out your eyes,” he gives the back of Dabi’s head a sharp look before strolling towards you, features softening as he observes—the perfect picture of innocence, legs swinging slowly in cute little motions, strawberry lollipop sucked against the roof of your mouth, sparkling eyes floating from your boyfriend’s broad shoulders to his—your—boss’s face as he advances.

“Gimme some,” he demands, large hands finding your knees and halting your movement, using his hipbones to push them wider, making a space for himself between them and sticking his tongue out. With a giggle, you place the now misshapen candy on his tongue, gasping loudly as he snatches the candy from you, movements too quick for you to catch, and jumps away with the grace of a cat.

“Daddy!”

Tomura snickers around the lollipop in his mouth, sucking it into his cheek as he speaks around it. “Aw, come now, don’t pout,” his bottom lip pushes out to mimic your expression, tilting his head in false sympathy. “I’m sure your Mister will buy you another,”

“He better,” you mumble through your pout, eyebrows knitting together as arms cross tightly over your chest, eyes flitting to Dabi.

“I will, dollface, I will,” he vows distractedly, gaze not straying from his fingers reflected in the mirror as they fiddle with his bowtie.

“Promise, Mister?”

“Promise, baby, promise,”

Dabi’s already been briefed on the specifics of this mission—something to do with playing a poker game with a bunch of other crooked hotshots at the Sahara hotel in Las Vegas, but that’s all you know. That’s all you’re authorized to know.

Despite being Dabi’s accomplice and working for Tomura’s underground organization, you’re rarely allowed to be in Tomura’s office while the briefing happens. It’s sensitive information, dollface, and the less you know the better, and don’t misbehave now, sit pretty and quiet like a good little girl until the big boys are finished, and then Daddy and Mister will give you a pretty reward.

But! you had protested with a bottom lip involuntarily jutted out. But maybe, if I know more, I can be of better help—

But Tomura had shut that idea down before it had even finished leaving your lips.

No. Absolutely not. It’s for your own good—your own safety, you little brat—why can’t you understand that?

You do understand that, you’ve been told a thousand times—your specialty is distractions, used to keep enemies occupied before Dabi splatters their brains on marble floors, or to pry information out of men weak to the smile of a pretty girl.

And, to be fair, Tomura does reward you pretty generously, with glittering evening gowns and designer pumps and all the handbags a gal could ever want.

You turn back to face him, red lips spread into a cunning, mischievous smile, a smile he knows all too well, a smile Dabi loves—because he taught it to you—and Tomura hates—because it means you’re about to get what you want. “So. How much money are you giving me to play with this time, Daddy?”

Tomura’s face screws up, nose scrunching. “None,” he spits, removing the lollipop from his mouth. Tiny hands grab at the air, reaching for it like a child, Tomura swiping it just out of grasp as he continues his scolding. “Last time, you nearly bought the entire shopping complex,”

“Ah, c’mon, boss,” Dabi says around a cigar, still standing in front of the full-length mirror and smoothing down his clothing. “Give the lil lady a lil somethin’, will ya?”

“Yeah, boss, c’mon,” you plead, mimicking your boyfriend, adorning your face with your signature pout and award-winning puppy-dog eyes.

“Absolutely not.” His voice is stern as he speaks, facial features hard in finality and resolution, but his eyes—irises a crimson so brilliant, so beautiful it’s terrifying, almost looks as if it’s glowing—are beginning to waver.

“You know, if you don’t, then I’m sure I’ll get bored in that big city all by myself while Dabi’s working,” you begin in a singsong voice, eyebrows raising. “And you know what happens when I get bored, Daddy,”

“She gets int’a trouble,” Dabi grumbles, eyes catching yours through the mirror, though there’s a smirk forming around the cigar, held between sharp gleaming ivory teeth.

“S’true,” you nod simply, eyelashes fluttering as you gaze at Tomura. “Please, Daddy? Pretty please? I swear I won’t spend too much this time,”

“Jus’ give ‘er your credit card r’somethin’,” Dabi waves a hand in nonchalance before patting down his pockets. “I’ll keep a’eye on ‘er, promise,”

“Take that damn cigar out of your mouth and speak properly,” Tomura spits, and you and Dabi share another look, another smirk, through the mirror. “Fine, alright? Fine,” nimble fingers pull out a sleek leather wallet, flipping it open and searching through the card slots, grumbling to himself. “Christ, the two of you are insufferable, I swear to God,”

“Thank you, Daddy,” you giggle, soft and gentle and innocent, all of the things you weren’t mere moments ago. Platinum plastic gleams in your fingers as you tilt the card in the light, gaze captivated by the way it sparkles and glitters as you speak again. “Promise I’ll bring you back something neat,”

✰ ✰ ✰

It’s been a few years now since the two of you met, since the two of you became partners, and Dabi swears to high heaven and back that he had tried his hardest not to fall in love with you, cross his heart, hope to die.

At least, that’s what he likes to tell himself. In actuality, he fell for you the moment he laid eyes on you—it’s as cliché and cheesy as one of those Jimmy Dean flicks, but goddamn it, it’s true all the same.

Doesn’t help that that’s one of the first things you said to him, though.

You look like Jimmy Dean, Mister, you had giggled dainty behind your hand, batting those long, thick eyelashes as you gazed up at him, gracious and polite and all the things a good little girl like you should be. Is supposed to be.

It made him want to fucking ruin you. It sparked a white-hot fire deep in the pit of his stomach, a blaze that grew, and grew, and grew with each of your cute mannerisms. It procured an inferno full of pure desire, heady and intoxicating, that nearly engulfed him in an instant.

“Oh, yeah?” he had asked with a smirk, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms over his chest, tongue running along his front teeth as he steadily held your eyes. “‘N why’s that, little miss?”

Those eyes, the sparkling ones that had been so bold only a moment ago, bashfully flitted down to the teal typewriter sitting in front of you on a large oak desk, fiddling a little with your nails against the worn keys.

Baby pink. Cute.

“Oh I—I—” your gaze flashed up to his for a moment, intense cobalt burning into your very skull, before you averted your stare again. “Well, I-I don’t mean to be rude, Mister, it’s just that—your hair,”

Sapphire eyes flicked up, as if to gaze at his forehead, as if he were able to see his own hair from just that motion, eyebrows raising with the action.

“S’all messy like the way he wears his. You know, when he’s not doing a picture and all that,”

And you noticed your mistake immediately, eyes widening, tongue tripping over your words in your haste to correct yourself, to speak properly, like a lady. “I-It’s all messy, s-sorry, excuse me, it’s all messy like the way he wears his,”

A smirk, slow and dangerous, spread across his face as he observed you, tilting his head a little as his eyes travelled down your neck, to your shoulders and the sweetheart neckline of that pretty, pretty dress, and then back up again, narrowing slightly as they did so. It’s in that moment that Dabi first wondered what you’d sound like underneath him while sharp hipbones bruise his name into the tender flesh of your inner thighs, how you’d slur your words together then.

His voice was a touch huskier when he spoke again. “You like Jimmy, miss?”

“I sure do,” you nodded, painted lips morphing into a little melancholic smile as you looked down at the typewriter again. “It’s a real shame he passed,”

“Sure is,” Dabi mimicked your movement, giving a simple nod in agreement. “But thank you for the compliment, doll, I’ll take it,”

Your head snapped back up. “Oh, c’mon, m’not stupid y’know,” you huffed with a roll of your eyes and a light laugh.

“No?”

The traces of amusement that played in his azure eyes had your own narrowing a little in response, sitting up straighter as you rolled your shoulders back.

“No,” you shook your head. “I know who you are,”

“Yeah? And who’s that?”

“Touya.”

And it’s the way you said his birthname, the way your lips curled into a devious little smile around the word, the way one of your perfectly arched eyebrows raised in question, in challenge, that had confirmed it for him, right then and there, in that stupidly luxurious office.

“Touya Todoroki.”

He was sure he had to have you. He was positive he had to make you his—forever.

“You’ve been compared to Jimmy since he debuted—”

“And you know this because—”

“—because I read Time and Vogue and all those other stupid magazines, just like all the other women in this country. And I’ve seen you,” you paused to point a manicured nail at him. “On or in every single one,”

Oh, and he was sure you had, sure you knew that he was notorious for stealing several of his father’s girlfriends when he was in his early twenties, infamous for fucking them and then selling the Polaroid’s and information to vying tabloids and the like. He always did like to spice up those stories a little, to fluff them and make them a hint more scandalous, glamorous—those ones always sold for more.

Not that he needed the money.

“It’s rude to point, baby,” he winked before he straightened up, pushed himself off the wall and stalked towards your desk, stopping in front of it as large hands splayed out on the wood, and leaned close to your face.

“And I don’t go by that name anymore, sweetheart,” he had told you, voice smooth as scotch over ice, though something dangerous glinted in his eyes as they carefully searched your face, something omnious etched into the sharp smile on his face

A shiver crawled up your spine, frosty and slow, fingers tiptoeing up each vertebra as you nodded your understanding. “Y-Yes, sir,”

The door to your boss’s office had swung open then, Dabi straightening up and spreading his arms out in a grand sweeping movement.

“David!” he greeted as if the two were old friends, large smile stretched too tight across his face as he walked forward and clapped a large hand on the smaller man’s shoulder. “How are you doing?”

He murdered your boss that day. You didn’t know, of course, didn’t have a goddamn clue until over a month later, Dabi had made sure of that. But by the time you found out, you were already in too deep; too enamoured by him, wholly captivated by him in every sense of the word, too dependant on him, to care at all.

He had made it quick—quiet and painless and looking as if it was an accident, strolling out of the office only a few moments later and asking you out on a date like nothing had happened, words flowing smoothly from his lips in that drawl that is so distinctly him, almost lazy in a way, glittering lidded sapphire scalding your skin with its intensity.

Yes, as much as he’d like to deny it, it’s true; Dabi fell in love with you the moment he laid eyes on you.

Because Dabi saw more than just a pretty little thing when your gazes first met.

Nothing, that’s what.

Honestly, he did you a favour—he swears he could see it in your eyes, sparkling as they gazed at him like he sculpted the moon himself, pleading for someone—for him—to come along and take care of you, to put you in your place, to keep you in line, absolutely desperate for someone to mold you, shape you, construct and arrange you into his most perfect creation.

Perfect, perfect, perfect, that’s what you are; so good for him, so obedient and compliant, always hanging on his every word and eagerly awaiting his next command, enthusiastic to submit to him, to please him, to receive the praise you crave so badly.

And Tomura had agreed, too, after only fifteen minutes of meeting you, of observing you, of assessing you, that you’d be a flawless addition to their operation.

So Dabi did what he does best.

He started slow, of course, enchanted you with strings of pearls and gorgeous dresses and expensive dinners, fed you tidbits about his mysterious lifestyle, about his family and his job and his past, just enough to keep you coming back for more, until you were practically begging him to let you in, to permit you to join his vocation, to accompany him on the wild ride that is his life.

And that was the best part of all—you didn’t care, you wanted it just as badly as he did; wanted to help him, to serve him, to be his, without ever requiring the full story. You readily gave everything up for him, accepted his orders, his wants and his needs without as much as a single question, never faltering in your honesty, in your pure devotion to your creator.

It’s love in its truest form, you’re both sure of it—possessed by one another, infatuated with one another, dedicated to one another—both consumed by the most potent drug, this love, a force to be reckoned with, the strongest pull either of you have ever felt before.

And, really, what more could you ask for?

✰ ✰ ✰

He took you under his wing, crafted you into a master of manipulation, pairing it perfectly with that innocent kitten demeanour you wear so well, and taught you everything he knew: all of the infiltration techniques and self-defence he had learned before he was ostracized from his father’s company—a privatized intelligence agency that works closely with the federal government—the very organization he’s been working so tirelessly to burn to the ground.

You still don’t exactly know what happened. He doesn’t like to talk about it, about where those scars decorating his body came from, about why he’s thrown away his old identity and constructed a new one, trading ivory hair and a high-fashion wardrobe for inky black and weathered Levi jeans with big black motorcycle boots.

But you do know a little.

He had been the favourite son, the chosen son, the one set to inherit the empire his father had built. That was, until he got himself into an accident—one that he still isn’t ready to disclose the full details of, and you never push. But you know it had involved a twelve year old Touya—always devious, crafty, and ever-so intelligent, even as a child—sneaking along on a mission he absolutely shouldn’t have. The silvery burns that adorn his skin, puckered and soft and shimmering like moonlight when they catch in the sun, scars tinged with the slightest hint of baby pink, are from this incident. Whatever had happened after had scarred his soul forever.

Because you’ve never encountered such intense hatred, burning bright blue flames that rage and roar inside of him, the words that are spit from between clenched teeth when he talks about his father, about his baby brother, positively scalding.

But it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter that you don’t know the full story, that you aren’t entirely aware of why this vendetta against his family exists. It doesn’t matter that his one goal in life, his only true desire aside from you, is to take down his father. It doesn’t matter that he’s willing to do anything and use everyone to achieve his objective.

Because he is letting you in; slowly, bit by bit and piece by piece, the most fascinating and tragically beautiful jigsaw you’ve ever put together. He may never be ready to tell the full story, and that’s alright with you, because as you’ve reassured him countless times in the dead of night, you’ll always love him anyway—you’ll always be by his side.

That’s when he’s most vulnerable, it seems—in the middle of the night, at two and three and four in the morning, when he wakes trembling and whimpering and soaked with his own sweat.

He never tells you what they’re about, the nightmares. Sometimes, they’re so violent that they wake you first. He doesn’t fuck you immediately on those days, doesn’t say a word as he finds solace in your warm bosom, little fingers pushing back sweaty strands of inky hair from his temples as your other arm wraps around him, holding him close to you as his shaky breathing calms, as his muscles stop quivering. On those nights, he says nothing as he spreads your legs and climbs on top of you, railing you into the mattress like it’s his last day on this earth.

That’s how he likes to be comforted; that’s what calms him down best. It’s standard procedure at this point—not that you mind waking up to his soft sniffles and him shoving himself into your barely prepped cunt, or rousing to feel the tip of his naked cock rubbing against your clit through thin cotton undies as he tells you in that wavering voice to stay sleeping and let your Mister take what he needs. You’re there to serve him—and you do, so perfectly. You just want to help, after all. You’ve always ever just wanted to help. You never know which nights he’ll gift you another little piece of himself, of his soul, for you to try and fit in somewhere in the puzzle that is DABI. You don’t know the triggers—as far as you’re concerned, they don’t seem to exist anywhere outside of the padlocked barricade of his own head, no rhyme or reason to them, more random than anything else. But you’ll readily accept anything and everything he’s willing to give, the very instant he’s willing to give it.

✰ ✰ ✰

Sprawled out on the hotel bed with his white t-shirt riding up and exposing your lacy panties, you watch, in an almost trancelike state, as Dabi does his hair in preparation for the game set to begin in an hour or so. He leaves it messy and ungreased when he isn’t working, all tousled and fluffy, a sea of half formed curls that flow into each other, akin to tremulous waves hours before a storm like an inky ocean atop his head. But he cleans up well, when it comes time to get down to business.

“Every little swallow, every chickadee, every little bird in the tall oak tree,”

Standing in front of the mirror clad in a white undershirt and his suit pants, he sings along to Bobby Day’s staticky voice as it flows through the small radio set on the bathroom counter, nimble fingers dipping into a tin of greasy pomade and gathering a generous glob, a responding giggle bubbling up in your chest.

“The wise old owl, the big black crow,” he catches your eye through the mirror, a devilish smile materializing on his face as he continues, lathering his hands together. “Flap-a their wings singin’ ‘go bird go’,”

“Should’a been a singer, I’m telling ya,” you say as you roll onto your stomach, chin resting in your palms and head propped up, eyes glittering. “Could’a rivalled Elvis,”

Huffing out a laugh accompanied by a roll of his eyes, his hands begin to rake through his hair, slathering it with the substance and slicking most of it back from his face, sure to leave a few curls at the start of his hairline untouched. “So sweet you’re gonna rot my teeth, baby,”

“M’serious!” you insist, blinking at him as your eyebrows raise, watching the teeth of the black comb run through the slicked-up strands, his palm following close behind as he smooths it over; crisscross, crisscross, crisscross, fluff, pat, crisscross.

“Uh-huh, uh-huh,” he shakes his head in disbelief, though there’s the faintest pink tinting his stubbled cheeks. “I think I’m better at this job,”

What? Playing poker with a bunch of criminals and making deals with mafiosos and murdering those who wrong you? you swallow the words, letters stinging and scraping your throat as you force them back down, schooling your face into a neutral expression. “I respectfully disagree,”

“‘Course you do,” he mumbles to himself distractedly, leaning closer to the mirror to complete the look. “Elvis, you say?”

He begins belting out lyrics in an exaggerated deep voice as he adds the finishing touch—your favourite part—slender fingers shining with residual pomade as they twirl and coat the few stray curls left neglected, allowing them to hang artfully in the middle of his forehead.

“When I feel like this and I want to kiss youuu,” pivoting on his heel, he gazes at you with that shit-eating grin and continues. “Baby, don’t say doooon’t,”

“Oh, God, no, not Don’t!” you groan, flopping onto your back dramatically, face screwed up as if you had just tasted something sour.

“Alright, alright, alright,” he’s chuckling as he advances towards you, a small towel in his hands as he cleans them. “How ‘bout…” trailing off, he hums a little as he thinks.

“Hold my hand and promise,” he begins in a low voice, smooth and sweet like the finest melted chocolate, depositing of the towel and crawling onto the bed.

“That you’ll always love me too,”

Large hands gently pry your legs part, signature crooked smirk spreading across his face when he’s met with zero resistance, rough palms caressing silky skin as they slide up, fingers gripping and grabbing and kneading.

“Make me know you love me,”

The words taper off into a whine, beginning to sound more like begging than singing, as his body settles between your thighs, hipbones digging into the soft flesh while he hovers above you, supporting his weight on his forearms.

“The same way I love you, little girl,”

Lips trail along your jaw, leaving tender kisses in their wake—unhurried, careful, and full of purpose—as he mumbles against your skin.

“You got me at your mercy, now that I'm in love with you,”

Calloused hands begin to ruck up his t-shirt, digits dipping into the lacy waistband of your panties, his voice starting to tremble ever so slightly.

“So please don't take advantage, cause you know my love is true,”

He pulls back just enough to look at you, sapphire eyes gleaming in the golden sunlight and he pauses, blistering gaze searching your face for something, muscles relaxing and head dipping a moment later to finally press his lips against yours, whispering into the kiss. “Darling please, please love me too, I beg of you,”

And despite all the glitz and glamour, all the extravagance and exhilaration, that comes with each mission, this will always be your favourite part—when it’s only you and him, lounging around in some luxurious five star hotel or some dingy roadside motel, exchanging lazy, messy kisses full of stringy shining saliva, goofing around and whispering stupid Elvis lyrics to each other, words that hold more weight than either of you care to admit.

✰ ✰ ✰

It was supposed to be a fairly simple operation—minimal violence, Tomura had instructed. No guns or casualties, if it can be avoided, if Dabi can keep his temper in check. It was supposed to be easy, straightforward, safe.

It was supposed to be. But Dabi gets bored easily, likes a little spike of adrenaline with his missions, rolling his broad shoulders and cracking his neck as he joins the rest of the men around the poker table, a sly smirk on his face as they name the bets and the prizes.

“And my little doll,”

It’s hard to resist rolling your eyes as those four words slip from between his lips, slow and smooth in that deep, lazy drawl, trademark smirk painted across his lips as his lidded eyes scan the faces sitting around the table, an eyebrow raised, daring any of them to protest. Several hungry eyes dart towards you for a moment, standing like the reward you are a few feet behind Dabi and leaning on a railing, a shy little smile briefly gracing your lips in greeting, elegant evening gown shimmering under the crystal lights.

This isn’t new—Dabi usually bets you when he plays. Keeps him sharp, he claims. Keeps him on his toes, keeps it fun when there’s something important at stake, something valuable to lose, he says. He plays better that way, he promises.

Except he’s always craved that thrill of danger, has always liked to push further and further simply to see how far he can go before he topples over the edge. It’s a rush, a blast, a high akin to the morphine that so often flows through his veins, and he fucking lives for it.

It’s been over an hour now, since those words were murmured in that velvet voice, floating across the table and cloaking the thoughts of the other men like a lethal haze, most of whom can’t seem to keep their eyes from wandering back to you every so often, leering gazes coating your skin with grime you itch to scrub off.

But that’s the point—or it’s supposed to be, anyway. That’s the whole reason you’re here in the first place. To act as a distraction, Tomura’s words drift through your mind, just whisps of his voice that tickle the walls of your skull.

And what a perfect distraction you are, in a Dior dress that looks like it was made only for you, tapered perfectly to every curve and edge of your body, silk flowing gracefully with every miniscule movement, with every rise and fall of your chest.

But it bores you to tears, this poker game, eyes dry and sticky, sick of staring at the back of your boyfriend’s immaculate, intricate hair as his nimble fingers play with the mountain of chips accumulating in front of him, plastic clacking together as he shuffles through them.

You had begged him to let you go shopping—just for the first half of the game, you swear!—but he refused. I need my good luck charm there with me the entire time, babydoll, he told you, brushing calloused fingers down your cheek then tracing along the line of your jaw, gazing at you with brilliant sapphire that glitters in the late afternoon sun, streaming in through the hotel’s floor-length windows. We can go shopping after the game is finished, he promised.

You regarded him with skepticism.

“And dancing?”

“Of course,” he responded with a playful scoff. “We can dance until our feet are bleeding, pinky promise,”

Keigo comes to join you just before the game passes the two-hour mark, large hands finding purchase on your hips and pulling you back against his chest as his head dips down, soft full lips against your skin.

“Lovely dress you’ve got on,” he murmurs, breath hot against your ear, tickling the shell. “You look stunning—breathtaking—I mean, gosh, look at me, I can barely breathe,” he gasps dramatically, chest heaving against your back as he does so, chuckling when you roll your eyes and giggle at him to shut up, Kei, the vibrations from his laugh a comforting sensation, a familiar sensation, a welcomed sensation, sending warmth spreading through your body. “I’m so happy you’re here,” you whine, leaning further into him and head tilting against his collarbone to gaze up at him. “I’m so bored,”

“Yeah, I bet,” he says, something unusual—unreadable—settling in his topaz eyes as he glances up at the table. “You aren’t used to games lasting this long, are you, baby,”

A little pout settles on your lips and you nod, playing right into his condescending cooing as you snuggle into him, eyes following his stare. Truthfully, you haven’t a clue what’s going on, and, really, you couldn’t care less. You aren’t entirely sure what the significance of this poker game is, or who most of these men are, and you aren’t allowed to. Just sit pretty and perfect like you always do; it’s the thing you do best.

Except tonight—tonight something is different, unsettling, off. It’s no big deal, though, of course—you can almost hear that deep, dark voice drawling the words out in your mind, phantom breath tickling your skin.

Because Dabi’s always been startlingly good at what he does. Because Dabi’s always been able to worm his way out of a difficult situation. Because there’s never really been a reason to worry about it before, anyway. But tonight—well, tonight you’re watching as his Balenciaga clad shoulders are getting tenser, and tenser, as his jaw is clenching tighter, and tighter, as his grip on that singular sparkly chip resting in his palm is becoming stronger, and stronger, thin skin stretching painfully over sharp bony knuckles.

Keigo’s breath is bated, his fingers digging into your hips as he observes the game unfolding in front of the both of you, pulling you closer to him, hushed curses falling from his lips every so often. And Keigo knows what’s happening, of course, but he refuses to tell you, promising you that you wouldn’t understand even if he tried to explain it. Creases form on your forehead as your eyebrows knit, eyes drifting back to the table. Whatever it is, it’s clear that it isn’t good, Keigo’s body tensing against yours as he sucks in a breath and holds it for a moment before blowing it out from his mouth, exasperated. “Well, I’m positive it’s fine,” you say, trying to wave it off lightly, to whisk away the acrimonious dread that roots deep in the pit of your stomach and begins to spread, thick and dense as it slithers into your surrounding organs, to brush off the impending sense of foreboding that seems to lurk over you, getting heavier and heavier, darker and darker with each second that ticks by—though your voice sounds high to your ears, tinny and false. “Dabi’s never lost a game before, that’s why they send him to these things,” But Keigo doesn’t sound so sure, responding with a nervous breath of a laugh, lithe fingers flexing on your hips, rubbing little lopsided circles into the flesh. “First time for everything, songbird,”

The words send ice piercing through your veins, but you persevere, rolling your shoulders and standing up a little straighter, swallowing past the painful lump that’s lodged itself in your throat. It’s fine. It’s always fine. He’s always found a way to get out of messy, tight situations before. Why should tonight be any different?

It won’t be, it isn’t—you can already see Dabi collapsing on the cream sofa upstairs in your luxurious hotel room, tugging at his bowtie with a sigh as his head falls back, nimble fingers popping the first few buttons on his crisp white dress shirt, and had you scared for a moment there, didn’t I, kitten?

And you’ll playfully slap his shoulder as you crawl into his lap, roll your eyes as you straddle his hips and allow him to tilt the champagne flute to your lips, laugh it off as his hands begin to wander, rucking up your dress and kneading your ass, cock tenting his expensive trousers. Like always. You’re sure of it

It’s just past the three-hour mark when Keigo speaks again, all traces of teasing, of that easygoing lilt that is so distinctly him, gone from his voice. Golden locks stand in all directions, his hair having fallen out of its usual ducktail style, a curtesy of fingers raking through it nervously. His smile is tight as he looks down at you, front teeth nibbling at his cuticles as he speaks, muffled a little by his fingers. “Maybe we should get you out of here, sweetheart—”

“No,” you respond instantly with a firm shake of your head. “I’m not going anywhere,”

“Sunshine, listen—”

“I said, no, Kei,” you pull back a little to look at him, resolution sown into your voice, chest puffing out just a touch. “I won’t leave him,”

Honey eyes hold yours for a moment, and you can almost hear Keigo’s molars as they grind together. He exhales a deep sigh a moment later, shaking his head and tugging his fingers through golden strands again. “Alright, alright,” It finally comes to an end, a few minutes past the four-hour mark. Heavy lids start to lift as commotion begins to stir—soft murmurs among the men and chairs scraping against the floor, plastic chips clacking together and the sharp whisp that travels through the air as cards are shuffled—whining a little as you lean further into Keigo, who is now supporting most of your weight.

“Kei, feet hurt,”

“Shh, I know, songbird,” he hushes you, a large palm stroking your head. “But I need you to wake up, sweetheart,”

Rough, unfamiliar hands are wrapping around your arms only a moment later, yanking you from the warm sanctuary that is Keigo and hauling you against stiff muscle.

“I believe you’re mine now, darling,”

The words are gravelly, uttered in a low voice against the crown of your head. A vicious shiver crawls along your skin, whole body trembling with the force of it, as your lids snap open.

“Wait, what?” frantic eyes search the gaudy room for familiar cobalt, breath beginning to accelerate as you struggle a little in the grasp of a burly man with one eye. His grip tightens in retaliation and a pained yelp hitches in your throat, Dabi’s eye twitching at the sound. “Dabi? D-Dabi!”

Sapphire blazes into your skull, steadily holding your watery gaze as his jaw clenches, swallowing thickly at the sound of your pitiful little whimpers of his name, at the way you squirm and wiggle in your abductor's grasp, desperate to escape, to get back to him.

“H-Hold on, now,” Keigo begins, holding his hands up in surrender, a motion meant to signify peace, to signify that he isn’t a threat—even though you know he’s got the cold metal of his favourite pistol tucked into the waistband of his trousers and pressed against his warm skin. “Let’s talk this through, yeah? Just wait a minute—”

“Nope,” the man cuts Keigo off mid-sentence with a loud, harsh laugh, and you wince at the sound. “No way, a deal’s a deal, friend. I won her fair and square—she’s mine,”

A light chuckle, laced with irritation and dubiety, escapes Keigo’s lips as he shakes his head a little. “Come on, Dabi jokes around like that all the time,” and while his voice seems amicable on the surface, its ridden with cold undertones, phantom threats that are felt, not said. “And this little lady—as pretty as she is—is a person, not a prize. Taking her against her will is, in fact, kidnapping, and I’ll be forced to—”

“Let him go,”

“What?” the word falls from your lips and Keigo’s simultaneously—one incredulous and pitched high with distress, the other breathed out in disbelief, both equally as concerned—gazes snapping to Dabi, who sits quiet and brooding, dim lights casting shadows on the sharp planes of his face.

Azure drifts between your faces, features ridden with terror and alarm—furrowed brows and deep frowns tugging at the corners of lips, one pair of eyes wide with scepticism, the other pair glistening with tears. Dabi’s silent for another moment before he pushes on his knees and stands, squaring his shoulders and clearing his throat, voice ringing out loud and clear, dripping with admonition. “Let him go. He’s right; he won her, fair and square,”

He speaks slowly, annunciating each word with careful precision, sapphire glinting in the dim light has he holds the muscular man’s gaze. It holds something threatening, something menacing, something terrifying deep within the depths of his eyes, and you feel your captor pause for a second, tense, and then shiver.

“Uh, r-right,” he says, voice wavering a little as he nods to himself. “Fair and square,”

Dabi stalks towards you, shiny oxfords echoing against the pristine, freshly waxed marble floor, tutting his tongue and shaking his head, casual and relaxed as ever.

“Don’t struggle, you hear me?” he says, voice softer, gentler, as a calloused thumb swipes across your cheekbone, catching a stray tear. “Be a good girl for him,”

And I’ll see you soon.

The promise doesn’t need to be vocalized—you can see it, shining bright and true in his sapphire eyes, can sense it, in the air surrounding him, can feel it, at the very core of your soul.

A sudden sense of relief floods your body, pathetic little sobs getting caught in your chest as you exhale shakily and deflate in the burly man’s arms, tears finally spilling over your lashline and streaming down your cheeks.

“Okay,” you breathe.

Dabi gives you a simple nod, lips quirking up into a ghost of his signature lopsided smirk. Okay.

And just like that, all of the fear and trepidation and panic vanishes from your body, a serene calm chased by a sense of giddiness replacing it, scorching through your veins.

Because before the door to the man’s hotel room has even swung fully shut, Dabi’s barreling through, crystal handle smashing against the wall and cracking as skilled fingers tangle in short hair, yanking the man’s head back with a sickening crack and dragging the razor-sharp edge of his favourite switchblade across the man’s exposed throat.

He moves like a flash of light, a spark igniting a fire, so fast he’s merely a blur of black and navy and blazing sapphire. Thick crimson begins pouring from the wound immediately, a large splice spanning from one earlobe all the way to the other.

The man hits the shiny hardwood floor with a distinct thump, but you aren’t paying attention to him or the way he’s writhing as he tries to claw at his neck, coughing and gagging as he begins to choke on his own blood.

No, you’re captivated by sapphire, bright and burning as it surges towards you, calloused hands seizing your face roughly as chapped lips find yours, unforgiving and ferocious, bloody knife still in one hand, cool metal pressed against your cheek, smearing streaks of scarlet across your skin as you try to get closer to him, to get more, the stench of copper stinging your nose.

It’s eradicated in an instant though, Dabi’s heady scent—campfire and hickory wood and expensive cologne—filling your lungs, your mind, your entire being as it curls around you in the most intoxicating embrace, familiar and comforting and him, him, him. Stumbling backwards, you just about trip over your own feet as Dabi shoves forward, strong hands wrapped around your biceps keeping you steady. The sharp edge of the small rosewood dining table digs into your lower back, Dabi swallowing your resounding yelp as he sucks your bottom lip between his teeth and tugs, large hands finding your waist and squeezing before he hoists you onto its surface, using his hipbones to force your thighs open.

You nearly topple over from the power, from the urgency, hands flying out behind you and grappling against the table’s surface to keep you sitting upright as he heaves and pushes and leans against you, motions knocking sparkling crystal glasses and fine porcelain plates off the top.

The sound of shattering glass and cracking china mingles with the gurgling and garbling of the man who lay a few feet away on the floor, suffocating on his own blood. It creates such a beautiful symphony, intertwined with Dabi’s ragged breaths and your broken moans, with the ruffling of clothing and the screech of the table legs against the gleaming hardwood floor. And it’s desperate, and needy, and messy, teeth clashing and clacking together violently, saliva dripping down chins as tongues rub and glide and lick, hands pawing and gripping and tugging and ripping, the delicate material of your silk Dior dress practically turning to ash as his fingers materialize through it, tearing it to shreds.

“Off, off, off, I need this off,” he’s growling against your lips as his hands work, a low whine getting caught in your throat as you nod frenetically.

Yes, yes, yes, you’re whimpering, your own little fingers helping him destroy the silvery fabric, eager and anxious to rid your body of the bothersome garment.

A guttural groan, deep and dark and inducing a fluttering in your tummy rumbles in his chest as his eyes roam over your body, clad in the daintiest white lace.

“You’re fucking gorgeous, y’know that,” he’s mumbling between sharp bites to the flesh of your neck, fingers snapping the clasp of your bra, breaking it in one simple motion. “A fuckin’ angel, that’s what you are, baby. My very own angel,”

Rough palms slide down your torso, slow and purposeful as they trace, feel, knead the dips and curves, planes and contours of your body, slender fingers pausing to play with the elastic of the garter belt adorning your waist, holding up your lace-trimmed thigh-highs which have begun to tear, then hooking in the waistband of your thong.

His cock grinds against your inner thigh, hot and hard and throbbing as it strains against his trousers, digits toying with the lacy elastic, twirling it between his fingers before he lets it snap back against your skin, the harsh slap! echoing throughout the hotel room.

“Oh, Mister, I want it,” the plead falls from your lips in a shameless moan, high and whiny as your hips press forward in an attempt to grind against him. Slender fingers untangle themselves from the lacy fabric in an instant, gripping your hips to still them, fingertips digging into your flesh. “I need it,”

“Need what, dollface?” his lips brush against your skin as he speaks, teeth sinking into your collarbone a moment later, hard enough to break the skin, a loud cry getting caught in your chest. He sucks on the wound, hard, tongue laving over it in soothing little circles, slowly dragging over the bite.

And it’s a compulsion, a sickness, a fucking disease surging through your veins, infecting your mind with thoughts of him and only him, entire body buzzing with the desperate, pathetic, urgent need for him, for his cock, for his cum.

“Need you, need you,” you’re whimpering out, squirming and struggling a little in his grasp, a warning hiss spit through his teeth as blunt nails nip your skin. “Please, Dabi, please, lemme have it,”

“Have what, baby?” lips curling up into a coy smirk, he pulls back just enough to look at you, finally pushing his hips into yours, a patronizing laugh spilling from his throat as you instantly grind against his cock, impatient and impetuous. “Use your words, Mister wants to hear you say it,”

Scalding heat seeps into your cheeks as you squeeze your eyes shut tightly, a broken whine of complaint sounding in the back of your throat as you shake your head. “Y-You know,” you mumble. “You know,”

“Oh, come on, baby,” he tuts with a disappointed shake of his head, voice overflowing with condescension. “You act like such a little slut, but as soon as I want you to say what you apparently need oh-so-badly, you can’t? You get all shy and bashful like you’re innocent, or something?”

An arrogant chuckle bubbles up in his chest, a rough palm colliding with the flesh of your ass a moment later. Scarred lips graze your ear as he leans back in, speaking low and smooth, words leaving his mouth in a huff of warm, sweet breath. “You’re being bad, y’know that?”

The huskiness in his tone sends chills pebbling across your skin, a delicate shiver dancing up your spine.

“Please,” you whisper, bottom lip beginning to tremble. “Please, Mister, please,”

“Tell me,” he rasps, taking the lobe of your ear between his teeth and sucking, bruising his name into the sensitive skin. “I know you can do it, doll. What is it that you want? Tell me,”

And, God, it’s so embarrassing, vision blurring with the sting of tears, entire body beginning to tremble from the combined humiliation and lust surging through your veins, his clothed cock still rutting against your core, poking and prodding and so close, you’re so close, two tiny words, just say them. “Your—Your cock,” you almost yelp, blinking back the tears in your eyes as you try to gaze levelly at him, teeth digging into your bottom lip to quell its pathetic quivering. “W-Want your cock, please, Mister, I-I need it,”

“Yeah?” he breathes while he rests his forehead against yours, butting forward a little as his glazed eyes rapidly search your face, pupils blown to hell and lips bitten red, shining with spit. “Where, huh? Down here?”

A finger tugs the flimsy soaked lace to the side, another dark chuckle slipping from his lips as he drags a knuckle up your dripping slit.

“Here?” it presses into your cute little hole, your hips eagerly bucking forward in response.

“Yes, yes, there, Mister, there, please,” you keen, head nodding in almost frantic movements, skull knocking against his. “Please, n-no fingers, want your cock, need your cock, stretch me out, fill me up, I need it,”

And it’s your senseless babbling that does it, bratty and needy and incessant in high broken whines, that snaps the final thread of patience holding him back, and a growl rips from his chest, so violent it vibrates through your own.

The heavy buckle of his belt clinks as hasty fingers fiddle with it, shoving his trousers down his thighs just enough to free his cock.

You can’t help the mortifying moan that escapes your throat the moment you see it, velvety and pink and oh-so-pretty, flushed tip glistening with precum and two thick veins snaking around the shaft like vines.

“Christ,” he groans as he pushes into your cunt, burying himself inside of you in one swift thrust, your nails biting into the hard muscles of his shoulder through the thin material of his shirt as your hole stretches around him, both of you exhaling simultaneous sighs of relief.

It burns and it stings and God, you need more, eyes rolling back in your skull as the sharp heels of your stilettos dig into his lower back, little fingers tangling in white cotton as you try to pull him closer, closer, closer.

“Greedy little brat,” he snarls out as his hips begin snapping, the movement sudden, unexpected, welcomed, a choked cry of his name catching in your throat.

And it’s brutal and relentless, primal and desperate, lacking most of his usual finesse as he pounds into you, cockhead slamming against your cervix with every harsh thrust of his hips, hard enough to move the entire table itself, legs scraping against the floor a little more with each pump.

Inky curls cling to his forehead and temples, the white cotton of his dress shirt becoming translucent as it sticks to his damp skin, highlighting the hard planes of defined muscle that flex with each ragged inhale.

Surging forward, his tongue runs along the inside of your teeth before it drags against yours, slow and heavy, depositing his taste and staining it with the flavour of him, fiery cinnamon gum and smoky Marlboros. Gorgeous, needy little whines break in his throat in time with each strong piston of his hips, muffled by your mouth, and you greedily swallow whatever he’ll afford you.

It’s total sensory overload—he’s all you can see, all you can hear, all you can taste, touch, breathe, hijacking all of your receptors and overwhelming you with him.

It’s building inside of you, deep in the pit of your stomach, scorching flames that glow as blue as his eyes as they rage, climbing higher and higher, licking at your insides and expanding further and further until they finally engulf you, consume you, with their blaze, and everything shatters, body convulsing almost violently around his cock as you cum with a strained cry of his name.

“Fill me, Mister,” you’re babbling, begging, swearing you’ll die if he doesn’t, the flames will burn you to ash if you don’t get his cum soon, voice absolutely wrecked. “Fill me, fill me,”

And he obeys, filling your cute little cunt to the brim with thick, hot cum as his cock pulses, a cracked whimper of f-fuck, slipping past his lips.

His chest heaves as he collapses against you, the two of you falling back against the table’s surface with a thump, his cock still buried inside of you. A soft whine sounds in the back of your throat as you carefully unlock your legs from around him, wincing a little at the stiffness in your thighs.

I love you.

The three words are murmured into your shoulder, so soft you barely hear them, so quiet you’re sure you’d have imagined them had you not felt his lips move against your flesh, not felt his hot breath on your skin, not felt the gentle vibrations in his chest as he spoke.

“I love you,” you respond, voice tender as tiny fingers comb through his dishevelled hair. “I love you,”

He’s silent for a moment, your combined pants the only sounds ringing out among the hotel room, and then he nods—once at first; just a quick, sharp motion, and then again a moment later, with more vigour, more purpose, more acceptance.

Little hands smooth down the damp cotton hugging his back and your head lolls to the side, cheek pressed against the cool wood of the table. A certain type of giddiness—a type that’s sick, that’s twisted, that’s stuffed full of love—floods your body as your eyes connect with those of a dead man, laying in a pool sticky crimson, and God, yes, you love him, you love him, you love him—more than anyone else ever could, more than you could ever love anything else.

1K notes · View notes

dreamsmp-au-ideas · 4 years

Text

Teddy Bear Anon has purposed yet another interesting addition to the Immune AU which gives me plot ideas! In particular, a scene that would really help give past Dream a strong push into his character arc.

I like to image that immune!Dream’s character arc starts with the death of immune!Puffy. Sure, maybe he’s not sad yet, but he feels something for the woman who declared herself his pseudo mother. It’s what helps to crack the shell enough for the rest of the immune gang to start weedling their way into his heart. Immune!Dream after spending enough time watching the group he, starts to realize that yeah, connections to other people isn’t a weakness. It really is a strength. It’s something that takes time for him to come to terms with because Techno seems like a testament to the fact connections are a weakness. He was unbeatable until his horse got kidnapped. His only connection, his only weakness. But then there’s Tommy who seems to represent the complete opposite.

Where Dream represents strength from caring too little, Tommy represents strength from caring far too much. Now I’m a sucker for bamf Tommy, and I like to personally imagine that maybe the Immunes hold out for a year or two before they cave and try to make the portal. So Tommy has what really boils down to a two year training arc on top of already being a child veteran (I like to canonize SMP Earth as well because personal preference and it gives me even more room to make Tommy suffer. SMP Earth being canon? God, so much fucking trauma considering how the others treated him, a 15 year old child, like an adult.) Anyway Dream slowly realizes connections with one another are what kept the remaining Immunes alive, and he tries to force his younger self to understand that. Tries, but doesn’t really get far. Up until what everyone else calls The Fight.

Tommy’s always just kind of screwed around in fights as long as there’s only a threat to him. We know he has a tendency to throw if MCC is any indicator. But then they time travel and maybe they spend some time in the past trying to get the situation sorted and the past’s Dream maybe just kinda does something to Tubbo. Doesn’t even have to be big, it just needs to clock as a threat to Immune!Tommy who’s already lost his Tubbo and refuses to let his younger self go through that. So Tommy goes completely ape shit on the younger Dream. Sure, it’s only been two years for this Tommy. He’s probably, like, 18 or 19 at most. Still a child as far as a lot of people are concerned. He shouldn’t be stronger than Dream or Technoblade, and in the few cross group sparing sessions they’ve had he isn’t. He’s stronger than his younger self but no where near these two demi gods of combat. But then Dream suddenly registers as a threat to Tubbo in Immune!Tommy’s eyes and he makes the mistake of mocking Tommy while he’s at it. He knows that immune!Tommy lost his Tubbo and maybe the past Dream is lashing out slightly or trying to get some kind of foothold in Tommy’s psyche. He isn’t doing anything near what immune!Dream has done, but it’s enough to piss Tommy off. So immune!Tommy challenges Dream to a fight and Dream immediately realizes the mistake he’s made when Tommy starts to destroy him.

Say even Techno’s there for some reason or another and he realizes what’s going down so he tries to calm Tommy down, joining the fight just as Dream is loosing it. The situation quickly turns into the first time Techno’s ever gotten his ass thoroughly kicked by Tommy, leaving everyone spectating baffled (Tommy’s younger self partly included). They’re certain this kid is going on some rampage and none of them can stop him but the moment Dream and Techno are both taken care of (wounded, not killed, the older Tommy is always careful about that. He even throws a splash healing on them with some indifferent kind of disgust that hides the fact he does still care to some extent even hurting as he is.) Tommy immediately just switches focus to outright doting on Tubbo, ignoring any muttered Clingyinnits in favor of ensuring Tubbo is fine. Tubbo is completely find and just as confused, but the point stands and neither Tommy ends up leaving Tubbo’s side for the rest of the day. The younger Tommy, after all, is the only one the older Tommy’s told the full story to regarding the future (even when he couldn’t trust his own family he was always able to trust himself with the secrets that mattered, so he prepares his younger self in case the worst comes to pass.)

The older Dream, immune!Dream, he doesn’t get involved. He sit on the side lines and just kinda laughs, the sound drowned out by Sapnap’s loud encouragements and Sam’s half hearted attempts to get Tommy to stop (he could have stopped Tommy immediately if he’d stepped in. Sam is after all the only person on earth Tommy listens to without hesitation, but Sam lets it happen and pretends he tried.)

Immune!Dream just kinda smirks at his younger self later that night and mentions something about attachments really making you weak. After all, it’s not like the only time Tommy takes a battle seriously is when someone he cares about is in danger. It’s not like Tommy would turn the world into a seared ball for Tubbo, and Tubbo would do the same in return. It’s not like they’ve watched the people they care about temporarily rebuke the Crimson just to give the Immunes those precious extra seconds needed to survive in a fight. Attachments, they’re just a weakness.

The younger Dream doesn’t know how to respond to that. It’s the first time he thinks about his older self maybe being right.

Before I go I wanna leave you with two more ideas for the Immune AU

First up, Wilbur is eight years older than Tommy give or take. Wilbur had Fundy when he was around 16 and Tommy was around 8. Tommy was the best damn uncle he could be and for a while Tommy and Fundy were really stupidly close. They were both apart of the raised by Wilbur club and Wilbur was trying his damn best. Fundy aged/matured (physically and mentally) faster than a regular person for a while. They believed it was because he was a fox hybrid and Wilbur was ready to lose Fundy too soon. When Fundy was equivalent to 18 in human years though his aging process suddenly slowed to a crawl and his tail split into two, at which point the group realized he was actually a kitsune and it was just those first 8 years that passed by quickly (and Wilbur had a lot of questions for the now missing Sally who he’d thought was a salmon hybrid, genuinely, but became exceedingly less sure.) His family knows he’s a kitsune, but Fundy hid it from most of the rest of the server. A good thing considering later events.

Fundy was part of the Immune group for a while and I like to imagine that he and Tommy had a falling out during the Pogtopia era but after the egg started to take over they started bonding again and acting like, well, family. Unfortunately when it came time for them to activate the portal, Fundy ended up getting separated from the group and getting caught. The eggpire didn’t actually know Fundy was fully immune or a kitsune so he just kinda pretended to get infected, using his illusions to make his fur look crimson. I personally like the idea that Fundy at some point managed to get back to the time machine and being a little code wizard manages to get the thing working and yeets himself in. He shows up a little late but after fixing his appearance manages to catch up with the rest of the group.

Fundy is underrated. Tommy being a good uncle is underrated. Sam would absolutely adopt the traumatized fox baby in Eret’s honor. What’s not to love?

The last concept I wanna bring up that I really like is hybrid Tommy. Tanuki would be good since it’s another reason for the Sam Nook bit. Maybe Sam specifically picked Sam Nook since Tom Nook was Tommy’s favorite character on the grounds he was the only representation Tommy had ever gotten and it made the kiddo happy. However, I also personally really like phoenix Tommy and it would make an interesting plot point. Tommy accidentally losing his third life at some point and realizing he’s an immortal creature of fire would have led to him taking a protector role for his new family. He can’t die, but he can burn anything around him, why not send him out to get supplies when the worst the eggpire could do would be capture him. Even then he just literally cannot hear the egg. Which could lead to both some interesting comedic moments and some really good angst if Sam agonizes over his desire to protect Tommy and let him be a child suddenly being at odds with the fact Tommy is literally the best person for the job so to speak. Not to mention Sapnap, who I headcanon as a Blaze hybrid, would be even more attached the moment he found a new fire proof friend to burn forests with him. Regardless of which hybrid type he is, I could see him hiding it from everyone except for Fundy when he was a child and only ever admitting it later to the other Immunes once they become a found family.

Personally I like the idea of Tommy being part tanuki hybrid and part phoenix hybrid, but is that too mary sue? Is it just a little bit too cheesy to have him be both? I will never not try to incorporate phoenix Tommy into my fics but also tanuki Tommy would be such a mood for this au.

Like image Tommy just builds a den that’s in reality a vault/panic room a la Techno and he hides it under Church Prime since that is The Safe Spot in Tommy’s mind.

~Snapdragon & Firefly

116 notes · View notes

feliix · 4 years

Text

Plan B ✦ PJM (18+)

✦ Pairing: Jimin x Reader ✦ Word count: 2.1k ✦ Rating: M

✦ Genre: smut, crack, fluff, established relationship!au

✦ Summary: Acting up doesn’t get you very far when you’re boyfriend’s sole purpose in life is to get on your nerves, luckily this time he gets on the right one.

✦ Warnings: explicit smut, thigh riding, nipple play, dom(ish)!jimin, dirty talk, praise kink, y/n is an whiney spoiled brat, punishment

✦ Requested by this anon ‘For the drinks & drabbles, I’d like to have Jimin + Vodka please 🥺’ and sweet @bangtiddies ‘hello bby may i order a jimin + vodka pls thank you i lob you 🥺’

✦ A/N: no one @ me about Jimin’s hairy legs you can blame @hobiance she told me to also this as nothing to do with the oral contraceptive morning after pill I’m just bad at titling fics

✦ Written for the BHQ Drinks and Drabbles game hosted by @bangtan-dreamland

Your favorite time of night. Bedtime. Finally, you could enjoy the peace and quiet of temporary unconsciousness after an exhausting day. Maybe exhausting was the wrong word – but Jimin was in one of his ‘moods’ today and was being excessively annoying.

As the day went on his antics became more and more bothersome, doing things for the mere sake of pissing you off. It had become his only hobby, saying or doing things that bothered you just enough to warrant a dirty look but not enough for you to stay angry over. He was an instigator by nature and being cooped up in your apartment together only made it worse.

You thought that once you’d gotten into bed then his instigating antics would fade out, but he was really on another level tonight. You managed to escape him for a half-hour to shower, deciding to shave your legs just to give you something to do and kill time. Bad mistake.

Now he was brushing up against your smooth skin with his hairy legs, the texture causing a tickling sensation that you found rather annoying now that you were trying to get some shut-eye.

“Stop that,” you swat your hand back at him to get him to stop. He’s pressed up against your back, cradling you as he holds you in his arms. Because of your positioning, you’re unable to see the amused look spread across his face. Your annoyance only entices him to do it again, seeing how far he could get before you snap.

“Stop what?” He chokes back a laugh, fully aware of what he’s doing but still enjoying the smooth feel of your legs up against his.

“Stop tickling me with your leg hair,” you sigh as you shift your legs forward to escape him. Sleeping in a 90-degree angle wouldn’t be the most comfortable position, but at this point you were desperate. Thank god for your king-sized mattress.

“Hey,” he whines as a pout forms on his face at the loss of contact, “I just wanna cuddle.”

And then your comforter is being kicked up, his top leg wrapping over your body and pulling you back into him. He was really asking for it tonight.

Trapped between the tight grip of his thighs, you let out a forced sigh, biting your tongue to stop from lashing out. After living together this long he can tell the intentions behind the sounds of your breath, and now he was feeling kind of bad for bothering you. This sigh in particular was filled with annoyance, so much so that you weren’t able to respond to him with a coherent thought.

He does his best to make it up to you, kissing the nape of your neck sweetly before nuzzling into your back, loosening the grip of his legs around you to let you get comfortable again.

“I just miss you.”

“We’ve been together all day.”

“No no,” he says, kisses littering up your neck and to your cheek, “I miss you.”

His gravelly voice makes a knot tighten in your stomach, your core beginning to ache with the intentions behind his words. “I see,” you swallow thickly, eyes opening to stare at the wall in front of you as you wait for his next move.

“Do you miss me?” He asks as one hand fiddles with the hem of your shirt, lifting it slightly to slide underneath. Goosebumps prick at your skin as his fingertips graze against your stomach. His gentle ministrations have you chasing after your own breath, arousal growing between your thighs by the second.

“Yes,” you gulp, voice beginning to shake as his fingers make their way to one of your nipples. It begins to pebble as he rolls the bud between the tips of his fingers, your chest heaving in response to his ministrations.

“I see,” he counters slyly, squeezing your hardened nipple between his fingers. You keen at his touch as a light whimper leaves your mouth. You weren’t sure where this was going, but the pool of arousal forming between your thighs was doing wonders to make you forget about how much he’s been bothering you today.

“You’ve been very short with me lately, hm?” He whispers in your ear, shivers wracking your spine at the feeling of his hot breath.

“I-I’m sorry.”

What you didn’t realize is how short-tempered you had been with Jimin ever since you’d been stuck at home. Before he even began instigating you were already bickering with him. He had gone above and beyond with his antics to try to put you in place and teach you a lesson…One that hadn’t worked of course. So now it was time for plan B.

“Maybe you should learn your lesson, yeah?” He pinches your nipple harder this time, your back instinctively arching in pleasure as he soothes the area afterward.

“Lesson?”

“Mhm,” he confirms, grabbing you by the waist to flip you over. As your eyes meet his you notice the dark and lustful look that’s taken over him, a stark contrast to the playful grin you had seen not too long ago.

Your lips chase after his, begging for some type of stimulation as your desire runs wild. He kisses you back, his lips moving rhythmically against yours. You wanted more – needed more. The arousal beginning to soak through your underwear was getting rather uncomfortable, all you wanted was to satisfy your needs, no matter what you had to do to make things up to him.

Swiftly, his hands loop under the sides of your panties, ripping them off in one fell swoop and flinging them across the bedroom. When his fingers reach for your cunt a smug smile spreads across his face. Your legs aren’t the only cleanly shaved part of your body.

He’s pleased with how aroused you are already, just from him teasing your nipples for a few short minutes. “I know how you can make it up to me,” his eyebrow quirks pompously following his words. There was no time for questions now, you were ready and willing to do whatever it took to satisfy your growing needs.

“Okay,” you agree without knowing his intentions. It wasn’t a bad idea though. There was nothing wrong with a little bit of punishment.

Slowly, Jimin shifts up on the bed, propping himself up against the headboard and sitting upright. You give him a confused look before he responds with patting his thigh, telling you to hop on.

“You want me to..?”

“I want you to get yourself off on my thigh.”

Eyes widening at his statement you instinctively move onto his thigh, each of your own enclosing on either side of his leg. The hem of the large t-shirt you're wearing brushes against his skin as you perch yourself up on your knees. “Off,” he orders, motioning to the fabric covering your body.

Following his commands you grab the shirt from the bottom, crossing your arms as you pull it off and over your head seductively. The satisfied look on his face tells all, he's already enjoying the show before it's begun.

The cool air of the bedroom kisses your nude figure and sends a small chill down your spine while you adjust to the temperature of the room. Your nipples harden on contact, sensitive from the raging heat of your body met with the ice-cold air blowing out of the vent above you.

You sink down onto his thigh slowly, the short hairs on his legs brushing up against your core. The texture causes you to flinch, you smooth skin so delicate and responsive to each little touch. It tickles a bit, not enough to scare you off but enough for you to notice it’s there.

Your eyes lock with his before you make any more movements, waiting for him to give you the cue to go. His pupils are blown out and dark, filled with desire as he admires your naked form.

With one swift movement, his hands grip your hips, beginning to guide your actions. You instantly shudder at the feeling; the sensation was new, you had never done anything like this before. There was always a first time for everything.

“Just like this,” he coaxes as he sways you back and forth a few times.

His grip on your hips soon loosens – he wants you to do it on your own now. For more support you place your hands on his chest, grinding yourself on his thigh. A moan escapes your lips as your arousal begins coating his leg, the small hairs covering the surface underneath you beginning to stand up.

“Like this?” You ask as your pace picks up, rocking forward slightly to give extra stimulation to your clit. In the process your breasts are pushed closer to his chest, and he can’t help but reach out in front of you and knead them between his hands. His palms encase your breasts, his thumbs circling your nipples with every stroke.

Your head rolls back at the newfound pleasure, orgasm beginning to build with each rock of your hips. Slowly, his hands drag their way down your body, goosebumps trailing close behind as they settle on your hips. Your eyes screw shut in bliss as he flexes his thigh, the ridges of his muscles adding more friction underneath you.

His thigh only becomes more and more slippery as you continue to ride him, your slick coating every inch. The slick surface makes it easier for you to move against him; pleasure overtaking your senses as you grind harder into his tensed muscles.

“Doing so good princess,” his voice comes out in a whisper, so gentle and full of admiration. His words have you keening at his praise, only wanting to move faster to get yourself off.

As you open your mouth to speak a desperate whine escapes. It’s not what you intended to do but Jimin is still satisfied, smirking at your carnal shriek as you get yourself off on his leg.

Your eyes slam shut as you try to focus on your movements. The growing ache in your knees is slowly beginning to tire you out, but you can’t stop now. You’re so close.

“I’m tired,” you whine, frustration laced in every breath you exhale as your movements begin to slow. It felt like you had been at this forever, but whatever you were doing just wasn’t enough. Tears begin to prick at the corners of your eyes as you feel your high beginning to slip away. You’d already worked hard enough, it was agonizing not being able to just get yourself off.

“Just a little longer baby,” he coaxes you, his grip on your waist tightening as he begins to guide your movements once again. Relief sets in as Jimin takes control, finally getting your way.

He pushes and pulls your body over his toned muscles, your clit catching on each crease with every glide of your hips. As if his help wasn't enough, his body soon begins to lean forwards, pulling you towards him as he catches one of your nipples in his mouth.

A steep groan leaves your lips as he catches the bud between his teeth, teasing you with a little bit of pain to outlast the pleasure. The extra feeling of his lips on your body is all you needed to come undone above him. Your body sinks as a sharp moan catches in your throat. Bliss overtakes you as your body falls into him, his arms wrapping around you to catch you.

Your orgasm racks through your body, impulsively shaking with each spasm of your walls as you release. Jimin is there to usher you through your high, though. His strong arms hold your tired body while you recover and light kisses are placed along your jawline.

As your shaking begins to subside he helps you off his leg, widening his stance for you to sit in between. His arms cradle your aching body and you feel like you could fall asleep right there – your back pushed flush up against his chest as you relax into his warm frame

“You did so well Princess,” he praises, a kiss landing on the top of your head. Your eyes shut gently, a satisfied smile growing on your lips as you nuzzle closer into him.

“I’m sorry for being a brat today.”

He smirks at your apology, knowing that plan B had done the trick. “I forgive you, Princess, you’ve earned it.”

And for the remainder of the night, he gets what he wants, to cuddle you as you both drift off to sleep.

#ficswithluv #bangtanarmynet #networkbangtan #smutcentralnet #btswriterscollective #magicshopnet #bangtanhq #bhqdrabbles #kpopuniversenet #jimin x reader #jimin smut #pjm x reader #park jimin #bts smut

451 notes · View notes

simplybakugou · 4 years

Text

Runaways

↝ After being forced into a wedding, Bakugou whisks you away from having to partake in the ceremony.

BINGO SPACE: Wedding

⋆ PAIRING: prohero!bakugou x fem!reader ⋆ WARNINGS/TAGS: fluff; swearing ⋆ WORD COUNT: 1736

A/N: yes this is a @bnhabookclub bingo piece lol. when i got this prompt for bakugou (thank to the anon who requested bakugou btw) i was originally going to write out a whole wedding ceremony before i thought that would be boring imo lmao. so i decided to go with this concept! imo i don’t really like weddings so you can sort of see that through this fic lol.

credits to @bnhahcs for the beautiful colored bakugou cap!

FULL BINGO MASTERLIST

✐posted 08.23.2020✐

Suffocation. It was like your air was being cut right from you, like you were fighting just to breathe. All you could do was inhale and exhale big deep breaths as you tried to calm yourself, attempting to slow down your racing heart beating against your chest. But it was no use; you still were as overwhelmed as you were since the day started.

“Are you ready?” Yaoyorozu asked, her tone laced with excitement as she was overjoyed for one of her closest friends on her big day.

You mustered up a smile, the corners of your lips quivering as you attempted to seem merry. But Yaoyorozu saw right through you as she frowned at your expression. “What’s wrong? You don’t look so happy?”

“It’s nothing, I’m good.” A lie; there was nothing exciting about this day for you.

Mina creeped up from the other corner, fully dressed as she was more than ready to head out into the ceremony. “Are you scared about getting married?”

You shook your head. “No, it’s nothing like that.” The girls decided to not pry any further as they did their best to help you get fully dressed as well as help your other friends.

For most people, a wedding is one of the most exciting and exhilarating days that could happen in one’s life. Although each culture does their ceremonies differently, there is still something to celebrate as a couple vows to spend the rest of their lives with one another.

But you had other views on weddings.

You met your husband to be when you were both in high school in U.A. While Bakugou was in the hero course, you were in the support course and your paths would cross as each respective course would often mingle with one another. The minute you laid eyes on Bakugou, you were immediately fascinated. His quirk was impressive and you wanted to ask him a million and one questions just to understand how his quirk worked and the repercussions his body faces as a result of overusing his quirk.

With this fascination, you would pester him as you thought you were interested in his quirk until you slowly realized you were actually interested in him. Being as bold as you were, you decided to ask him on a date. You surprised him with your dauntless proposal so he shocked you by agreeing. Even more surprising, Bakugou actually enjoyed your company outside of the classroom and the rest was history as you had been dating ever since.

After graduating from U.A., you both broke off into your respective professions, Bakugou with pursuing professional heroism and you deciding to become an engineer and create support items for heroes. You were both idolized as the perfect duo by the media, your professions working hand in hand perfectly. And six years into your relationship, Bakugou proposed to you which you practically screamed out ‘yes.’

Like a majority of young women in committed relationships, you were ecstatic to be able to spend the rest of your life with the man you loved. But on the other hand, you and Bakugou both had mutual feelings toward wedding ceremonies: they were just a waste of time and money. Something about hosting a grand occasion to show off how in love you were just seemed like overkill and you had no intention of hosting one. You and Bakugou agreed to be registered as a married couple in Japan through the usual paperwork until both of your parents were strictly against this decision.

Your parents and Bakugou’s parents, especially his mother in particular, wanted you to have a traditional wedding. Leading up to the ceremony, you fought with your mother, voicing how you had no interest in partaking in the wedding but it was like you were speaking to a brick wall. Bakugou tried reasoning with Mitsuki as well, at least his version of reasoning, but this resulted in Mitsuki nearly bringing the house down from her rage.

So here you were, forced against your will to be officially married in front of your family and friends.

“Are you all set?” Uraraka asked as she entered the room. She gasped at the sight of you. “You look so beautiful, Y/N!”

You smiled gratefully at her. If there was one thing that came out of this whole thing, it was that you at least got to dress up for once instead of being covered in grease and sweat from slaving away at your day job. “Thanks, Ochako.”

The door opened and your mother entered, making you want to groan internally. “Ladies, please wait outside.”

The girls nodded, waving at you as they expressed their words of encouragement as they left. Your mother’s fake smile lifted from her face the minute you were alone with her. She proceeded towards you, smoothing out a crease in the front of your uchikake. “So you’re still acting like a child about this whole thing?”

You had to prevent yourself from rolling your eyes, not wanting to hear her start complaining about that, too. “You would be acting like a kid, too, if you had to do something you didn’t want to.”

Your mother snickered, grabbing your hand to practically drag you out of the room as the ceremony was about to begin. You froze in your footsteps, coming to a halt. “Could you give me five minutes? I need a breather.”

Your mother sighed, already fed up with your antics and the day had barely begun. “Fine. I’ll be back here in exactly five minutes.”

You nodded, letting out a sigh in relief as she finally left the room. You made your way to the large mirror in the room, frowning at the sight of your perfectly painted face. You readjusted your headdress on your head, poking your cheeks as you dragged your lips upward into a smile. It was so hard to make it seem like you were happy.

As you were about to make your way out the door and join your mother, the window slammed open. You whipped your head towards the source of the sound, confused to see Bakugou casually propped onto the ledge of the windowsill as he was latched onto the outside of the wall.

“Katsuki?!” You exclaimed, rushing over to the window without tripping over your feet. “What’re you doing? You can’t be here!”

Bakugou scoffed. “You think I was gonna let our dumbass folks make us do shit we don’t even wanna do?”

He leaned over, grabbing your arm and hoisting you up on the windowsill. “We’re getting outta here.”

Before you could express your disapproval for this idea, as not only were you going to be carried around in your boyfriend’s arms as he attempted to maneuver around with his quirk keeping you both afloat, your mothers were going to murder you once they realized the bride and the groom had left their own wedding.

“Hold on to me,” he commanded as he dropped down into the air. Your voice was caught in your throat as you gripped your arms around his neck, only his right arm around your back holding you as his left arm blasted you both through the air.

“You’re insane!” You screamed against the wind.

Bakugou smirked as he blasted through building after building. “Not as insane as you are for agreeing to marry me.”

***

The flight you were forced into taking was one you never wanted to experience ever again. Somewhere along the way your headdress had flown away and your perfectly pinned hair had been tousled and became a mess. You nearly puked at the thought of being lifted hundreds of feet in the air with only your fiance’s arm keeping you from falling.

“Y/N, open your eyes,” Bakugou chided.

You shook your head vigorously as your eyes were still screwed shut and your fists held onto Bakugou’s black kimono. “You’re trying to trick me, I know you are!”

“You idiot, we’re not even in the air anymore.”

You opened one eye slowly, peeking as Bakugou had landed atop of a building, both his arms now carrying you. You gasped as you released your grip from Bakugou’s clothes and you settled down onto the ground.

The sight of the sky painted in purple and orange hues as a result of the setting sun was dazzling to see. The buildings from afar were starting to light up, showing how long you and Bakugou had been basically flying through the air, not to mention your wedding was supposed to take place later in the evening.

“It’s so pretty!” You squealed, leaning against the railing of the building’s rooftop.

Bakugou walked beside you, looking out at the sight along with you. “Do you even know where we are?”

You turned to him. “I thought we were at some random place? Didn’t you land at the first building you found?”

Bakugou rolled his eyes playfully. “How are you the smartest woman I know but also the most fucking dense one, too.”

You narrowed your brows at him. “You don’t have to be rude about it.”

Bakugou smiled, wrapping his arm around your waist as he brought your body closer to his. “Think a little harder.”

You turned to face the view once more, your eyes roaming around to find something that could help indicate where you were. Finally you located the arch with your alma mater’s name on it and you gasped. “We’re at U.A.?!”

“It’s about damn time.” Bakugou looked down below him. “A lot of shit went down at this place but at least I met you.”

You grinned, nuzzling your face into his chest as your makeup stained the fabric of his kimono. “You’re so cute, Katsuki.”

“I’m not fucking cute. I wanted to get as far as I could from that fucking place,” Bakugou said, taking back his previous statement as he spoke about the religious center your ceremony was supposed to take place. “I’m not gonna let our old hags tell us how we’re gonna live our lives, especially when we’re finally starting a new one together.”

You nodded in agreement, chuckling a little. “Guess we’re starting out our new life together as runaways?”

Bakugou smirked, looking down at you as he planted a kiss on your forehead. “I don’t give a fuck where we go from here, as long as I’m with you.”

If you’d like to be added to my taglist, please join here!

Taglist: @pinkcowgirleggpanda @xtsundere-princess @wesparklebitch @hot-pocket01 @iamthe-leaf @ahrininetales @kirisclementine @happygalaxymilkshake @hookedinto-fictionalworlds @entraptas-kid-sister @mirakeul @thatpeachybandgirl @icy-hot @lmaobroccoli @anastar-legion @lowermoons @mykuronekome @susu-chan @selfship-mishaps @nk-echi @urmomsshousee @shycoffeeparadise @iambashfulperson @ilovepizzaandimhot @sugacookiies

#bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bnha x reader #bnha x y/n #bnha bakugou #boku no hero academia #boku no hero academia imagines #boku no hero imagines #my hero academia #my hero academia imagines

234 notes · View notes

youngbloodlisk · 4 years

Text

I Love You // Lee Hyunjae

request: "May I request for a fluffy scenario fic where you're dating hyunjae and his ex gf came back to look for him and you lost confident?"

- fluff

- almost angst bc of the nature of the scenario but i tried to keep it to a minimum

- screw off ex gf!!

- i'm not very proud of this, i'm sorry anon, i promise i tried my very best for you :(

- but thank you for being my first ever request, you made my week

- you take care too!!

- i hope this is good enough for you, lovely <33

- look at the beautiful angel in this photo

Hyunjae interrupts the movie dialogue with his own question.

"What do you think of the movie so far?"

"It's... okay... what do you think?"

"I hate it." Hyunjae is a lot more blunt about his opinion.

"Me too. It's awful." I pull myself up off of my boyfriend's chest so he can grab the remote from the table and bring the piece of terrible cinematography to an end.

"Well..." He twirls the small remote in his hand and purses his lips. "What now? We didn't have a Plan B. Although, that would have been a good idea."

"It's pretty late, it might be smarter for you to just go home instead of starting something new. Don't you have schedules tomorrow?"

"Yeah, a couple." Hyunjae pouts and lays his head on my lap. "But I don't wanna leave you yet..."

I play with his hair and we sit in peaceful, content silence for a few minutes. It's only interrupted by the ding of Hyunjae's text tone.

He pulls his phone out of his pocket and my eyes catch the name above the message.

"I thought your ex wasn't gonna text you anymore."

"She's a trainee, she needs to ask questions sometimes." Hyunjae begins to type a response to her question, which is probably extremely obvious. They always are.

"Can't she send her flirting to someone else's boyfriend?"

"She doesn't flirt." Hyunjae notices my hands leave his hair and he sits up, closing his phone and looking at me with concern. "If it makes you uncomfortable, I'll ask her to direct her questions to someone else. Would that be better?" He takes my hand.

"Hyunjae, I don't wanna try to tell you who you can and can't talk to, I just-"

"It's okay, baby. If it bothers you that much, I'll tell her to stop. Okay?"

I crack a small smile and Hyunjae pulls me into a hug. The embrace of his warm arms makes me forget all about her, even just for a moment.

-----------

I crack the door open and peek inside the practice room.

The boys are panting and gulping down water, having just finished another run through.

Haknyeon is the first to notice me, waving for me to come in.

"Hey guys, I brought celebratory lunch! Congratulations on your comeback soon, it's gonna be stellar." I set down the bag full of eleven plastic food boxes, each one slightly different in taste and each labeled with a specific member's name.

They let out some cheers and thank you's as they each go to find their own box.

Juyeon fakes a gag when he notices the heart written next to Hyunjae's name on his box, causing me to look around for my boyfriend.

One by one, I identify each of the members of The Boyz.

Juyeon is right next to me.

Sangyeon and Chanhee are playing cards while they eat.

Sunwoo, Kevin, and Changmin are goofing off together.

Eric and Jacob are both looking at their phones while listening to Younghoon talk to them.

Haknyeon is devouring his food like it's his last meal.

Hyunjae is... nowhere to be found.

"Hey, Juyeon?" I grab his attention before he walks away from the table. "Where's Hyunjae?"

"He left about an hour before you got here. A staff member came and said someone was here to meet him. We assumed it was you, so I have no idea where he went. Sorry."

"That's alright, thanks. I'm gonna go see if I can find him before his food gets too cold." Juyeon gives me a nod and a thumbs up before heading off to join Sang and Nyu's game of cards.

I search every corner of the building that I know exists and have access to, with no sign of my boyfriend. I even ask a few staff members I bump into, but they can only tell me what Juyeon said or less.

Finally, I find Hyunjae's manager and ask him if he knows where Hyunjae ran off to.

"Hyunjae? A trainee came to treat him to lunch as a thank you. They're at the restaurant across the street. That's all he told me before he left."

I thank him kindly and my heart sinks as I realize who's on a date with my boyfriend.

I soon find myself standing outside the company, looking through the glass window walls at Hyunjae and his ex-girlfriend dining on tteokbokki and laughing at something that probably isn't even funny in the first place.

You know what else isn't funny?

Her hand laying on his hand on the table.

You know one more thing that isn't funny?

Her leg rubbing against his leg.

My mind fills with thoughts of insecurity, doubt, question, and my confidence drops by the minute.

I go back inside and head up to the practice room. I can't stand to watch her blatantly flirt with my boyfriend like this.

I enter the practice room to see the guys cleaning their boxes with disinfectant wipes once they're finished eating and putting them back in my bag for me. So thoughtful. I wonder which one of them had that idea...

Avoiding extra embarrassment sounds like a good plan, so I grab Hyunjae's lonely box of fried chicken and vegetables and put it in the bag with the clean boxes before saying my goodbyes and good luck with the rest of the practice.

Halfway down the hall, Hyunjae turns the corner. His face lights up with his beautiful smile upon seeing me.

"Hey! What are you doing here?"

"Oh, I... I brought lunch." He looks down at the bag and sees his box through the opening. Complete with the red heart drawn by his name, surrounded by empty boxes from the other guys.

"Oh, I'm sorry, baby. I just ate." His voice and face shows his apology is genuine, but I don't fully register it.

"Don't worry, you can tell me all about your date and flirting later-"

"It wasn't a date! There was no flirting-"

"Hyunjae, I'm not upset. I'm just kind of annoyed. I'm also not an idiot. I know what flirting looks like. I know what trying to get your ex-boyfriend back looks like. You dropping our plans and conversations to heed to her beck and call definitely doesn't-... doesn't... help that..." I stare at the floor as I realize I said much more than I meant to, and it doesn't take Hyunjae long to understand what the real problem is.

"Hey, look at me." I lift my head just enough to meet his eyes and he takes my free hand in his. "I broke up with her for a reason. I don't love her, and I don't plan to go back to her. Ever. I don't think anyone in the world could ever treat me as well as you do, be as beautiful as you, be as funny as you, be as perfect as you in any way." My eyes drift away from his, and he holds my chin up to face him. "I'm all yours. I..." He hesitated before his last statement. "I love you."

My eyes widen and my lips part in a small gasp.

"You just said... We've never said..."

"I know." He nods rapidly and panic begins to set into his eyes. "I know that was really sudden and you absolutely don't have to say it if you don't want to, I just-"

"I love you too, Hyunjae." My smile grows involuntarily, and his smile reappears at the sight of mine.

Hyunjae pulls me closer and places a soft, sweet kiss on my lips.

We're both absolutely giddy, like two kindergarteners who just got "married" on the playground during recess.

His hand rests on my neck and his thumb slowly rubs my skin. It's a small but beautiful touch.

Our kiss is only interrupted by someone clearing their throat behind me.

We pull apart to see Eric standing there with one of the plastic food boxes.

"Kevin forgot to put his box in the bag. Sorry..." My cheeks resemble tomatoes and I recognize that his apologetic statement is for both Kevin forgetting his box and for interrupting the moment.

"Thanks, Eric." I take the box from him, and with a small nod, Eric hurries back to the practice room.

I turn to my boyfriend, shoving the box into the bag with all its friends.

Hyunjae's face is also beet red, and his smile has turned shy.

"I'll see you at your place tonight?" He simply asks.

"Yeah. I'll put your food in the fridge for you."

His eyes are full of something I've never seen before. Something beautiful. Something that looks like pure bliss.

"Thank you, baby."

We part and go our separate ways after one last peck of a kiss. The moment I round that same corner Hyunjae had turned just a few moments ago, I hear jumping and excited whispers which sound a bit like...

"Yes! Yes! Yes! She said it back!"

My heart fills with love and joy.

Of course I said it back.

I love him.

#ciiikbwork #lee hyunjae #lee jaehyun #the boyz #tbz #tbz fluff #the boyz fluff #tbz scenarios #the boyz scenarios #hyunjae scenarios #hyunjae fluff #lee hyunjae fluff #yeah still don't feel very confident in this #:(

113 notes · View notes

snarkwrites · 4 years

Text

summer sizzle | yours - reggie mantle [ m ]

[ prompts used ] One Small Kiss, Pulling Away For An Instant, Then Devouring Each Other + I Love You + heavy eye contact + comfort sex + first time (together) -

[ authors notes ] And I did it. I’ve been literally dying to write this for a while now, but lately, my fucks to be given have taken a hike, so I figured if there ever was a time then it’s now? So.. Here. Have some filth.

[ warnings ] 18+ only. All actual children please exit the building now. This is not meant for your eyes. Body fluids, oral sex , mentions of biting... Other than that just teeth rotting fluff.

[ pairing / fandom ] reggie mantle x lodge!ofc - riverdale

[ tag squad ] sadfaces. there’s no one on my riverdale taglist as of now. So I won’t tag anyone. If you see this and you want to be on my taglist, I’ve linked that doc below. FYI, as of today, I am being totally serious. If you’re not on my taglist ( or haven’t told me you want to be tagged in my writing over DM or message) I will definitely not be tagging you.

[ tag doc | masterlist | fyi | ask box status : open, accepting anons (headcanons for characters & fake fic titles only tho) ]

R E G G I E M A N T L E in yours,..

“Reggie?” I called out as I stood in the empty, locker lined hallway. The dance was still in full swing in the gym but I didn’t care. I’d seen everything play out between my sister Veronica and Reggie, one of my best friends. Naturally, I rushed right out.

I heard the doors leading into Riverdale High swing shut hard and I took a deep breath before making a beeline down the hall. I stopped in front of the trophy case to reapply my lip gloss and take a few deep breaths.

,, you can do this. You can make the first move.” I thought to myself all the way down the hallway and out the doors of the school. I caught him just as he reached his Charger and I tapped his shoulder, so nervous that I nearly jumped out of my skin when he turned around.

“Jesus.” I raised my hand to my heart, giving a soft little giggle as I stepped closer and pouted up at Reggie for a few seconds while toying with his tie, threading it through the fingers on one hand. My eyes settled on his chest because for the life of me, I absolutely could not meet his gaze right now. Not and actually say what I’d come out to tell him. Looking down and just.. Touching him a little… It was keeping me calm and far better than me, just blurting it out awkwardly. I wanted to ease into it.

“I saw what happened.” I finally managed to mumble because I knew I had to say something.

Reggie let out a breath and tensed a little. Then I stepped closer, my body pressing light against his and he kind of just melted against me, staring down at me a moment before nodding back to the building. “You’re missing the dance.”

He completely ignored what I said about having seen what happened between him and my sister, or the fact that not even ten minutes later, she was all cozy with Archie Andrews again as if nothing had ever happened. I could look at Reggie and tell that it was eating him alive, but true to form, he was refusing to think about it right now.

Mostly to keep the tension between us at a minimum, I answered dismissively,

“My date was a drag anyway.” I shrugged half-heartedly as I said it, pouting a little over the fact that naturally, my date only came with me in the first place because of Veronica being my older sister. I shoved the thought out of my mind and bit my lip, my gaze falling to the black silk tie undone around his neck, raising a hand to toy with it again in the hopes of distracting myself.

This had been so much easier in my head. What if I told him and he laughed about it? What if telling him made things awkward between us? All my doubts chose that exact second to surface and I stepped away just a little to try and get myself together. During all this, Reggie was staring down at me intently, almost thoughtfully.

Finally, he spoke up. “Comin here tonight was a mistake. I knew your sister was gonna wind up going back to Andrews, I just chose to be an idiot. Be blind. Tell myself that I was wrong.”

“You’re not an idiot. You felt something, it’s okay to feel. She shouldn’t have let you believe she felt things in return, if we’re being honest.” I shivered as the wind picked up and I hugged myself a little. Taking a deep breath, I prepared myself to say something. Anything, at this rate. I was determined to make my own feelings for him known at last because frankly, keeping quiet was getting entirely too difficult to keep doing.

And I had nothing to lose.

“Wish I felt like that right now.” Reggie remarked quietly, stepping closer on his own just as I hugged myself a little harder because of the chill in the air. He looked me over, not saying anything. Then he shrugged off the jacket to his suit and draped it around me. “You’re going to freeze out here, Vivi.”

“I wanted to make sure you were okay. You are my best friend, Reggie.” I reminded him patiently, tapping a foot against the pavement as my gaze broke away from him and momentarily, I glanced back to Riverdale High. “Screw the dance. This whole night was a waste of time. I only came because…” I fell silent. I was literally thisclose to saying exactly why I’d taken the date with the idiot I’d come with, but somehow, I couldn’t just… say it already.

“Because of what?” Reggie’s fingers tucked beneath my chin, making me look up at him. I gulped and let out a shaky breath, my teeth chattering a little. He stepped even closer, towering over me. “C’mon, you were saying something, Vivi. Don’t stop now…” he coaxed, deep brown eyes fixed on me, promptly making me stare in distraction and realize just how quickly I drowned in them.

“Because of you. I came tonight because of you.”

“What do you mean, because of me?” he completely closed the distance between us, his hands lingering gingerly at my hips as he stared down at me, dazed. I whined, giving him a begging glance. I couldn’t find the words to actually say what I was dying to and here he went, insisting that I said them. I cleared my throat quietly and after a second or two of mumbling to myself about it, I took a deep breath.

“Whatever you do, don’t laugh.” I mumbled softly as I rose to tiptoe, placing the palm of my hands on either side of his face to pull his mouth closer. I originally intended to just go for it, but I awkwardly wound up kissing the corner of his mouth instead and when I did… His fingers dug into my lower back, moving down to squeeze my ass through the body con minidress.

He pulled me up slightly, and just as I went to back my face away, he bit his lip and gave this little smirk while shaking his head, chuckling against my mouth, “Where you think you’re about to go, Vivi?” both his lips clenching my upper lip between as he planted a similar kiss on my mouth. When I felt his tongue trailing between my lips, my mouth fell open easily to give him access. If I shivered again, it was not because I was cold.

No, in fact, my entire body felt like it was on fire from the inside right now. He stepped back to lean against his car just a little, letting me melt against his embrace completely. Tongues clashing for control of the kiss turned to teeth nipping and scraping at each other’s mouths, shaky breaths caught in the air and swallowed by a kiss that was getting so deep and out of hand in a good way that I was starting to feel dizzy. We pulled away, panting for our next breath, both trying to process what just happened.

“I think I love you.” I managed to get it out, wiping the back of my hand along my lips. Reggie blinked in surprise, but that cocky smirk started to form and naturally, Reggie wouldn’t be Reggie if he didn’t push for more. “You think or you know?” he stared down at me intently, a gaze that demanded an answer.

“I think that I know. There’s just always been this magnets pull…” I said it feebly, afraid that now having said it, he was about to gently tell me that he didn’t feel the same. When I could finally bring myself to actually look at him, he was just staring at me intently… That cocky smirk had gone so much softer. His hand left it’s resting place on my hip to raise and lay against the side of my neck so he could cradle my face in his hands. “Yeah.” the word was choked out and his mouth buried against mine all over again, devouring it. I rubbed against him a little, trying to get even closer. The scent of his cologne filled my nose and I breathed it in deep, a soft sigh disappearing between our mouths as I did so.

When we finally broke away again, he licked his lips, staring intently at the way mine were left swollen and bruised by the desperate, longing kisses exchanged.

Of course, I wouldn’t be me if I weren’t working myself into a panic because I’d just said… all that… and he really hadn’t said anything yet.

“Why didn’t you ever say anything, huh? Because I..” he looked down, taking a deep breath, looking back up slowly. “I never would’ve even started something with Veronica if I knew.. I just thought we were best friends. Kinda thought I was gonna lose my goddamn mind because I wanted to say it to you so many times…” he trailed off, taking a few shaky breaths, stepping closer all over again with his hips pinning me against the side of his car, his hands wandering as he rubbed against me and let me melt against him, a frenzied groan against the shell of my ear as the friction started to build and we realized neither of us were interested in stopping or even wanted to.

The next thing I knew I was being pulled up his body, sat down in the passenger seat of his car. He leaned in, peppering my face with kisses as he muttered in a daze against my mouth, “I wanna get out of here. Do you, baby girl?”

“Yes.” I managed to gasp just as I felt his teeth latch onto my lips all over again, tugging, his hand slipping between my thighs and making me whimper and rock against it as soon as I felt him cup my dripping cunt. “Please?” I questioned breathlessly.

He rubbed harder, a quiet “Fuck” hanging heavy in the air between us as he dipped his head back down, muttering dazed against my mouth, “Right now, baby girl. Because if we don’t go now… People are going to get a show.”

He reluctantly pulled himself away, straightening to stand and he shut the door firmly behind him, hurrying around to the driver seat. Once he was inside the car, he started it and his hand crept right back over the center console, settling between my thighs again, a sharp hiss at just how wet his fingers came away at the touch.

His house was coming into view and as soon as he parked behind one of his dad’s many cars, he killed the engine, leaning across, his free hand at the back of my neck to pull me into him. The hand buried between my thighs kept rubbing, applying just a bit more pressure, drawing a gasped whimper out of me as I met his mouth, devouring it hungrily. I shivered at the way his fingertip trailed a line right down my center while giving me a lust filled gaze.

I pouted to myself when he opened the car door and quickly made his way around to my side, opening my door and bending at the hip, unfastening my seat belt and scooping me up into his arms. My arms looped around his neck and my nose nuzzled right against the space between his neck and shoulder and he had to stop and adjust the way he carried me because it caught him off guard and he’d very nearly dropped me. He wasted no time getting us inside, up the stairs and into his bedroom. He sat me on top of his dresser and locked the door before turning his attention to me all over again.

Stepping between my legs, he tilted my head slightly, mouth grazing against the side of my neck all over again. I could feel his lips really latch on, the suction forming between his mouth and my skin. I wasn’t stupid, I knew exactly what he was doing.

He was going to make absolutely sure I was covered head to toe in his marks. And honestly, that’s the exact thing I wanted.His hands skimmed the insides of my thighs and his mouth bore down harder, the sound of our heavy breathing almost amplified in the quiet of his bedroom. When I felt him cupping my cunt all over again, rubbing it over the soaked underwear, my head fell back and I sucked in a deep breath, rocking myself against his hand. When he leaned into me a little more, something clattered to the floor with an almost deafening thud and the two of us locked eyes, freezing in place.

When no one barged down the hall to knock at his door, he grabbed the back of my neck lightly and pulled my forehead against his lips while his other hand brushed the soaked fabric barrier covering my cunt out of the way.

My breath caught in my throat and he muttered softly, “Hope you’re not planning on leavin, princess. I wanna take my time with you tonight.” and just as I went to whimper when his thumb rubbed at my clit and his fingers buried deep in my core, slowly stretching me out a little, his lips crashed against mine to swallow the sounds of my quiet moans and whimpers as he continued to work at my clit and his fingers drummed against my spot, massaging and scissoring in and out of my core.

I rocked myself against his moving fingers and gripped at the shirt he was wearing, pulling it apart, sending a quiet spray of buttons clinking against the floor of his bedroom and he gave a low, husky chuckle as he lazily trailed his tongue over the outline of my lips. I tugged his shirt off, letting it fall softly to the floor. He gave another quiet chuckle against my mouth and the silent tear of fabric was heard as he stopped what he was doing to me long enough to tear my panties off, tossing them beside his shirt. As he turned his attention back to me, his eyes lit on my dress and he started to work it up over my thighs, up to my hips before pausing again to bite his lips and rub his chin thoughtfully.

“Reggie.” I choked out in a breathless whisper. I was throbbing, literally aching to get off and then he stopped and I was starting to get more than a little needy. His eyes locked on mine and he stepped close all over again, scooting me towards him and then picking me up, stepping over to his bed. My back hit the mattress and my hands raised, fumbling with the thin black leather belt at the waist of his pants. Once I got the buckle undone, I worked the button free. I caught his gaze as he pushed my legs open wide, his body serving as a barrier to keep them spread. Then I went agonizingly slow with the zipper to his pants.. Because turnabout is fair play. He barely held back a quiet whimper and the second his pants were undone, he was kicking off his shoes and letting his pants and underwear pool at his ankles, kicking them free from there.

He pushed me back against his bed and centered himself over me. “Condom?” I muttered the question against his mouth and he nodded, reaching out for his nightstand to open a drawer, pulling one out. As his eyes met mine again, he conquered my mouth in another hungry kiss, grinding himself against me and groaning against my mouth as the sloppy sounds of our kissing seemed to echo in the quiet room and compete with the quiet creaks of the mattress beneath us. “But first..” his lips ghosted down my throat as he mumbled the words into my skin, “I wanna taste you.” his eyes met mine as he said it and I nodded, biting my lip.

As his mouth sank lower, diving down from my throat dragging across my collarbone. When he dipped his head and I felt his tongue dart out, circling my nipples as one of his hands slipped between my thighs again, his thumb pressing hard against my clit, rubbing and working the circular bundle of nerves.

My fingers curled in the sheets on his bed and his teeth scraped against my nipples, teasing them to points as he buried his fingers inside me all over again, panting against my neck, “You’re so wet already, fuck.” as the wet sounds of his fingers working my spot with each deep thrust he made.

He moved down my body a little more, his tongue lazily trailing down my abdomen and circling my belly button, making me almost giggle and raise a little to look down at him. The lower he got, the more I felt that lazy slow burning heat in my stomach get hotter, send my stomach fluttering. I could feel my thighs slip off of each other and I knew i had to be dripping on the sheets and leaving a puddle. His eyes met mine one last time as he settled between my thighs, arms hooked beneath each one to hold me open.

Almost like a tease, he licked his lips and then he buried his head between my thighs, his tongue striping right up my center, circling my clit. I felt his lps latching on, sucking and I tried like hell to get a little more movement, get friction going all over again, but his grip on me was too tight for it. He chuckled against my cunt, “Just be still, doll. Let me take care of you, yeah?”

“Feels so good, ugh..” my head fell back as I muttered the words, my eyes fluttering open and shut, trying to stop tears from spilling because he was teasing me to a point in which I literally felt like I’d cry if he didn’t just let me get off. “Reggie!” I whimpered, begging for more. He tilted my hips upward, burying his tongue inside me even further and I lowered my hand, gripping at his hair. He gave a quiet growl, the warmth and wetness of his tongue against my dripping pussy sending a shiver shooting through my entire body. “C’mon, doll.. I feel you tensing up. Let go for me.” he muttered in a half dazed lusty tone against my pelvic mound and honestly, I needed no further push beyond his words. The orgasm that had been building for a while now ripped through me and I could hear him greedily licking and sucking me clean. He started to crawl back up my body, pressing himself down and into me. He slipped his fingers between his lips, groaning as if I were the best thing he’d ever tasted, making me watch him as he licked his fingers clean.

When he went for the condom, I reached out, wrapping my hand around his wrist, working it free from his fingers as I looked up at him. “Let me.”

He fell back against the mattress and I took the condom, tearing into the wrapper with my teeth. I worked it down over his thick length slowly, almost teasing as I did it, making him come alive below, bucking his hips upward against nothing, quiet moans and groans shattering the peaceful silence of his bedroom. He gripped my hips and I straddled him, sinking down on his length slowly, a sharp hiss coming as he stretched me out and filled me up.

Reggie rose to a sitting position and I wrapped my legs around his hips. He leaned his forehead against mine and muttered soft against my mouth, “You feel so good.Faster, princess. C’mon.. Ride me.” and I obliged him, starting to ride his cock a little faster, letting him sink into my pussy deeper, his length striking right against my spot and making me dig my nails into his shoulders just a bit. His hands gripped my hips and he started to pump me up and down on his cock, slower, steadier and so much deeper. My head fell back as I eagerly rocked my hips to meet his deep drives and moaned his name quietly, the sound only overtaken by the sound of our sloppy wet kisses and the steady creaking and rustling of the bed.

He tensed a little, his hips stuttering against mine, his fingers digging into my sides almost enough to leave bruises behind and he growled against my mouth, “You’re all mine now, right?”

“All yours.” I breathed against his mouth, my tongue trailing over his lips, slipping between them to collide with his. The kiss broke and my mouth strayed down the side of his neck. Like he’d done to me earlier, I fully intended on leaving marks behind. His grip tightened on my body and he groaned my name. “Fuck. Vivi. That’s it, baby girl. Want you to, “ he trailed off, taking several ragged breaths, “Mark me up, baby.”

I buried my lips on his neck, latching on, leaving behind a sizeable mark, riding his cock faster, whimpering against his ear as an orgasm began to build even more. “C’mon.” he urged, fucking into me faster from below, “Let go. Ride it out, princess.”

My pussy vised his length and he groaned against my neck, leaving a mark on the other side of it, his hand raising to tangle in my hair and tug at the ends of it, making me slam myself up and down on his cock even more, harder. I could feel myself dripping, still clenching his thick length tight and when he flipped us so that he was on top, slamming into me deep as he positioned my legs around his hips, burying his mouth in mine, I could feel him throbbing and my head fell back, my breath catching as I struggled to breathe properly again.

He pulled out, crawling down my body again, groaning as his eyes locked on the sight of me dripping, the excess of my juices pooling on the sheets beneath me. He moved back up my body, his mouth meeting mine as he muttered lazily against my mouth, “I’ll be right back. You want some water or anything, princess?”

“Just hurry back, baby. I wanna know how it feels to fall asleep in your arms.”

My words sent a bright grin to his lips and he nodded, slipping out of bed. I laid there and took a few deep breaths before grinning bright in the dark.

Telling him hadn’t gone nearly as bad as I was afraid it would. And now, Reggie Mantle was mine. All mine. And I was all his.

#reggie mantle fanfiction #reggie mantle one shot #reggie mantle imagine #reggie mantile imagines #reggie mantle fanfic #reggie mantle x lodge!ofc #reggie mantle smut #// 18+ only please

86 notes · View notes

naruthings · 5 years

Text

THE NEJITEN FANFICTION RECOMMENDATION MASTERLIST

oh, anon, the lack of nejiten fics thrive in the hearts of many… i may have similar experiences myself……………

but fear not, i have searched far and wide and i have returned and came back stronger than ever before!!! after re-reading every single nejiten fic i have on my favorites… handpicked the best ones and returned with even more fic recs!!! so ladies and gentlemen, i present to you, only THE BEST NEJITEN FICS YOU WILL READ ON FANFICTION DOT NET. HERE WE GO!!!

HALL OF FAME: ONE-SHOTS

THE BEST one-shots you will find on the site. Some are fluffy, some are sad, some will make you want to rip your heart out. But rest assured that without a doubt these fics are the absolute frivvy. These will not disappoint!

Tier 1: Spring — Here we appreciate the beauty of simplicity. Fics full of fluff and spunk that end in one and will make you end up feeling peppy and happy afterwards. A refreshing break from the complexities of life, short and sweet but nicely written, representing everything bright and new and blossoming, but most importantly, pure. So, friends, get your toothbrushes ready, because you are in for a sweet ride!

Tags: fluff, romance, humor, family, friendship

1. The Kissing Booth by BrownEyedHoneyBadger

— “ Lee was already reaching for a dollar inside his pocket. Mentally, Tenten began to scream. No. No. NO. This could not be happening. She should get up and run. Screw charity work. She was not kissing the guy whose eyebrows were furrier than the school mascot.”

Comments: A great start into the journey. NEJI IS SO GODDAMN SMOOTH. basically this fic is incredibly witty and genius. ugh!!

2. Psst! by Arkana

— “Lee finds out about Neji and Tenten’s relationship the hard way. The VERY hard way. “

Comments: I BUST MY ASS LAUGHING AT THIS ONE. I SWEAR THIS IS THE BEST, SWEETEST MOST IDIOTIC SHIT I HAVE EVER READ. PLS GIVE IT A GOOO

3. Conversations: Somniloquy by Mendori-chan

— “Neji. Your spit is warm.“

Comments: A storytelling all in dialogue. The perfect reenactment of something supposed to be short and sweet. I loved the dialogue and continue to love it!!

4. Godiva by Toboe Lonewolf

— “Neji had broken one of the most hallowed rules known to woman. ‘Thou shalt not steal her chocolate.’ Tenten’s going to make sure he never does it again. At least, not without her permission.”

Comments: just the fluffiest fluff out there!!

5. Screw Chivalry by Hearts and Stuff

— “Tenten didn’t want to do it. Really. But Neji shouldn’t have been such a butt.”

Comments: FUNNY AND HUMOROUS. I loved this so much! Has one of my favorite dialogue in any fic, really. PROBABLY REREAD THIS LIKE 100 TIMES IN 7TH GRADE

6. Hindsight by YamiPaladinofChaos

— “Sasuke and Tenten, on a date? Neji is not happy, not in the least. And of course, it’s all Naruto’s fault. No, really. It is.”

Comments: Okay, THIS SHIT WAS HILARIOUS. OH MY GOD. THANK U FOR THIS WONDERFUL AND FUNNY ASS FIC. kinda gets weird tho but i guess it’s part of the appeal.

7. I’m a Kunoichi, But by notesonlife

— “Tenten and Neji read a feminist book. And of course, trouble ensues, as Neji becomes increasingly aware that Tenten is currently, and may have always been, a girl.”

Comments: So, guys, notesonlife has always been one of my favorite authors early on my nejiten phase, and this is one of my favorites. please read their other stories as well!

8. The Problem with Hats by Aquarius Galuxy

— “Broken a/c, a tipped-over Weinermobile, and a girl who can’t seem to stop bugging him. It seems as if Neji’s day can’t get any worse than this.”

Comments: A sweet, well written fic by one of the writing senpais herself, @aquariusgaluxy ! I love both Neji and Tenten here so much!! NEJI IS SO FCKN CUTE HERE!! AND CHEEKY TENTEN!!!! AAA

9. Mission: Reverse Nejiten by Adelle-chan

— “Tired of all the failed attempts, Naruto uses Lee’s beliefs to get the two together. Or sort of.”

Comments: HOLY CRAP THIS WAS GREAT AND FUNNY AS HELL. Characterization is on point. This is my definition of a perfect naruto fic — where the other characters interact with the ship and the dynamic is great, like it’s part of the main story all along. i fucking love this one.

10. Truth Be Told by Mistress of Sarcasm

— “Hyuuga Neji falls for Tenten the day she almost broke his nose. Tenten doesn’t think of Hyuuga Neji as boyfriend material until an hour before he confesses.”

Comments: Holy crap! this was sweet as fuck! also one of the OG fics I want you all to read. Please give it a try!

11. Fifty Winks by Sandataba

— “Oversleeping is sometimes a good thing.”

Comments: Nice and Fluffy. shit u want to eat. I found the last part super cute!!!!! STILL think abt this fic from time to time.

12. Boxers by notesonlife

— “In which Tenten reorganizes Neji’s underwear drawer, and Neji decides to propose.”

Comments: OKAY, THE FLUFF IN THIS ONE WAS SIMPLY TOO MUCH. IT WAS TOO GOOD MAN. PERFECTION.

13. Rush Hour by Poisoned Scarlet

— “It was during one of those days; when the crowd was at it’s fullest, that he strolled into the shop and inadvertently humiliated her.”

Comments: Heehee. this one was cute.

14. Actions Speak Louder by Lotos-Eater

— “Short oneshot containing a dangerous amount of fluffiness. The surgeon general recommends you brush your teeth immediately after reading.”

Comments: HOLY FUCK. THIS ONE WAS SO, SO CUTE. ISTG THIS SHIT WAS. AAAAAAA. JUST PERFECT. *CHEF’S KISS* PERFECT.

15. Keeping Up Appearances by 716799

— “Them? Caught in the act? NEVER.”

Comments: okay, at first i was a little hesitant to add this fic but THOUGHT IT WAS THE PERFECT ENDING!! SO SWEET N FLUFFY!!!

MORE UNDER THE CUT!!

Tier 2: Summer — Stories serving as a reminder of our lazy, hazy days of summer — complete with all the thrumming romance, sexual tension, and drama that reflect easily so on those summery teenage memories. They’re sweet, spicy, sometimes heavy, but have all the ingredients you need for the perfect sunset fics. Read with passion! Let’s go!!

tags: romance, drama, lime, spicy

1. a memory stick filled with myspace friends by straw8erries

— “fake facebook dating: it’s really cute, she swears.”

Comments: Funny, spicy, a little heavy, but nonetheless hot, what other story to start off this tier? It’s a college AU , maybe not with the closure that you would expect from something like a summer romance, but it has these moments that shine.

2. Singing Sirens by 716799

— “Everything about this says that it’s not going to work. But Tenten has always specialised in disasters, and nothing in their world is a coincidence.”

Comments: Sooooooo hot. I love the goddamn dialogue, the characters feel so fresh and new but so true to heart at the same time. Please give it a try!

3. In Coffee City, We Borrowed Heaven by Aquarius Galuxy

— “It wasn’t as if he wanted to take this class, anyway. Reproductive Health 1101 was for people who couldn’t look up information on Google. Or someone who needed a science module to fit in his already-packed schedule. Hyuuga Neji belonged to the latter group of students, and he was in no mood to explain himself.“

Comments: As always, @aquariusgaluxy never fails. This was equally hot and equally clever, and you can’t help but with it were longer, but isn’t that the point??? sometimes ambiguity is also magical

4. Sixth Time’s the Charm by thedarkangel22

— "Gosh, Neji, where’s your sense of adventure, huh?” “I managed to lose it somewhere between the third and fourth time we were caught with your hand down my pants.” Where Tenten and Neji can’t seem to resist one another.

Comments: I remember reading this fic over and over again because I couldn’t get over how nicely written it was. Great plot, set up, dialogue, seeks excitement throughout the whole fic. Exhilarating. Pls read.

5. Revolver by Scintazzle

— “’You’d better not get in my way, incompetent novice.’ Tenten just got a new partner in crime. Unfortunately, he’d like nothing better than to work alone.”

Comments: Holy holy shitttttt, what is it with nejiten and agent cop AUs? They’re so goddamn hot. This one is no exception.

6. Recess by NessieGG

— “Tenten gets stuck on desk duty, but it’s a kind she’s not used to. 'Neji, I’m not going to have a make out session with you in a broom closet.'”

Comment: One comment: hehehehHHEHEHEHEHEHE

7. Eggnog by iflip4dolphins

— “She had slept with her worst enemy, and now she was trying to remember what had happened.”

Comments: OH MY GOD, this fic has such a good writing style. And such a great composition too. I just love everything about this fic. More love for this fic please. i super love it. I REREAD IT ALL THE TIME. IT’S LIKE MY GO-TO FOR PERFECT NEJITEN CHARACTERIZATION AND FLUFF. You will too!

8. Tension by Interim

— “Tension mounts when Tenten finds a surprise in her shower.”

Comments: YES. HDFGIHILHGIH.

9. I Swear I’m not Drunk Officer by fanfictioner22

— “The title says it all.”

Comments: THIS WAS FUNNY OK. and it had that spicy tinge to it that makes u wanna go mmmmf. MOTHERFUCKER!!

10. Airless by NessieGG

— “This was not the type of assignment that Team Gai specialized in. 'There’s something else you should know about the Grass nin…'”

Comments: OH MY GOD, this fic is all sorts of special! The drama, the tension…. the best resolution ever. written impeccably by the ever-talented nessiegg too. god i love this fic. it rlly has it all. v captivating!

11. In Men’s Clothing by voidforrent

— “It wasn’t that Neji didn’t find Tenten’s breasts attractive; he was just trying to be respectful.”

Comments: Oooowee, I remember not liking this fic the first time i read it. but as i grew older i realized HOW FUCKING HOT THIS FIC ACTUALLY IS. I AM NOT EXAGGERATING. IT WILL MAKE YOU SWEAT!!

12. Racetrack to My Heart by Aquarius Galuxy

— “Ino takes Tenten to a blind date - except it’s not quite blind, and not quite what the latter expects.”

Comments: BRUH THIS FIC WAS HOT AND BRILLIANT. THAT’S ALL I HAVE TO SAY. NEJI AND TENTEN ARE SO FUNNY HERE. YOU WILL NOT REGRET THIS!!!

Tier 3: Autumn — Stories with pain, stories with substance. Stories that have something to say, making our hearts hurt, breaking them. Stories that are subtle, with some sort of comfort in the air. Bittersweet. A lot to take in. Stories that speak to the mind and soul. Stories with words and feelings as vivid as the warm colors of autumn, as the seasons prepare for the occurrence of death, and the winter to come.

tags: drama, hurt/comfort, romance, angst

1. Little Feet Working the Machine by pusa-is-me

— “There is a reason why Team Gai is not sent on seduction missions.”

Comments: This is, I think, the perfect fic to describe this tier. Painful and subtle. Plays with your feelings. Raw & powerful. Again, one of the first few things I ever read about nejiten. still think abt it from time to time.

2. Christmas, 1944 by Giada Luna

— “Not all of the War Efforts were 'Over There.’ Tenten comes home froma long shift at the factory to an empty home, Bing crooning on the radio, and dreams of a Christmas with him back home.”

Comments: sad sad sad. then happy happy happy. cries and smiles. LOVED IT.

3. 13 Unmentionables by pusa-is-me

— “This is not a love story. At least not yet.”

Comments: OH MY GOD. OH MY FUCKING GOD. THIS FIC…. IT BROKE MY HEART, IT TORE ME TO PIECES. SOMETHING ABT IT JUST MAKES ME FUCKING ACHE. MAKES MY HEART THROB. GODDAMN. SO MUCH PAIN. IT’S SO FUCKING RAW.

4. Mindless Perversions of Love and Life by voidforrent

— “There were times when she couldn’t help but wonder why.”

Comments: (we’ve won, but at what cost?) :(

5. Birds by Snowshinobi

— “Birds fill his lungs, his throat, but still, not one reaches his mouth.”

Comments: Okay, okay. Tbh i rlly don’t know how to categorize this fic. did it break my heart? did it make me squeal? but something in my heart told me to categorize it as autumn. pls have fun because this is beautiful.

6. Certain the Journey by NessieGG

— “He made her understand that, to him, her love was absolutely worthless.”

Comments: Omg :(((( okay but this was beautiful as well.

7. fragmented dreams by Seynee

— “She has loved everything about him that hurts.”

Comments: so fucking beautiful. almost perfect. loved it.

8. Stitch my heart back together again by SaturnXK

— “There is nothing I don’t love about you, Tenten,” Neji says softly. And Tenten wants to cry because it isn’t true. There are too many things wrong with her, and Neji is a liar.

Comments: OH MY GOD, this one attacked me right in the heart. it just… please just read it. it’s so pretty.

9. Mine for the Night by syaoran no hime

— “For this whole night, she will close her eyes and pretend that he is hers, his glacial heart and all. For tomorrow, she can never have the same liberty again.”

Comments: AHAHAHAH i remember reading because of this one. this author is just so og and so good :’)

10. Since Spring by NessieGG

— “Neji is driven to the brink of his sanity when his teammate disappears and is given an option. 'I can use a technique that will allow you to forget every memory you have of Tenten.'”

Comments: raw. powerful. ugh. a lot of feelings in this one, wrapped under beautifully written strings.

11. Those Old Feelings Again by Poisoned Scarlet

— “It wasn’t that they weren’t aware of their attraction for one another… it was just that one was good at burying it, and the other was too stubborn to admit it.”

Comments: :( and then :)

12. Bergeron Falls by Goldberry

— “It’s been five days since they’ve seen the sun and everything is water.”

Comments: oh, thank god i recommended a goldberry fic or else i’d never be able to forgive myself. yes this is very beautiful as always :)

13. Lotus by memory’s marionette

— “Even if I now saw you only once, I would long for you through worlds, worlds.“ Because one life is not enough for love, and the past forever bleeds into the future.

Comments: SUCHHHH a beautiful fic. oh my god. i almost want to highlight this and show it to the world because that’s just how good it is. reincarnation done and written perfectly. i love love love this fic~~~

14. Right Before His Eyes by NessieGG

— “There has been a change in Tenten that Neji does not understand. 'You’re leaving the team.'”

Comments: classic nessiegg :)

15. Falling Flight by Toboe Lonewolf

— “When Tenten falls, she falls hard. And right now, she’s falling hard…for him.”

Comments: OKAY, well honestly, I WAS SO EXCITED TO FINALLY RECOMMEND THIS. i know this isn’t drana/angst but it just felt right for me to recommend this under autumn. plsplspls enjoy!!

Tier 4: Winter — The end of the year, the end of an era. Bonds strengthened and broken. Friendships were made. Read as the branches of winter fill up with snow, trees of knowledge that have been through the seasons, preparing to die with everything they have with them. Stories about growing up. Stories about family. The beginning and the end. This is their outcome.

tags: family, hurt/comfort, angst, romance, friendship, fluff. basically all the tags. if you’d notice they’re all growing up fics with exceptions to some but i think you’ll understand :) this tier is more assorted but the feels speak the same

1. She Was There by Ally1313

— “She was there. She was always there.”

Comments: I don’t know why, but something about this fic always makes me want to cry. It has a very special place in my heart. I first read this when I was 12, and I loved it so goddamn much. THIS FIC, IT CHANGED MY LIFE. IT INSPIRED ME TO LOVE NEJITEN MORE THAN EVER. SO PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE ENJOY IT!! OH GOD I LOVE IT SO MUCH. WHAT A GREAT WAY TO START OFF WINTER.

2. Chichue by keroRiBBIT

— "I’m nervous,” Neji said. Hizashi smiled at him, “There’s nothing to be nervous about.” “You said that before too.” “Have I ever been wrong?” Neji growing up in Hizashi’s care.

Comments: OH HIZASHI. THIS FIC IS THE CUTEST GODDAMN THING I HAVE EVER READ. LOVE ITTTTT

3. coda in d minor by metaphorically-blue

— “She doesn’t look like her father. /And children can’t recognize grief./”

Comments: this fic has been recommended to be by someone on tumblr before. needless to say, it broke my heart. a short angst break :’)

4. Fate by Silverlight

— “The first date, the first kiss, the first time he asked her to marry him.”

Comments: cute cute cute cute!!

5. 20truths: Neji and Tenten by Cyberwolf

— “The longest conversation the two have in school is when Tenten explains the advantage of titanium shurikens over plain steel ones to Neji, then wishes him luck in the target range.”

Comments: Of course, this winter growing-up-fic collection wouldn’t be complete without a 20truths!!

6. Only You by Byakuxhisa4eva

— “There are very few things he would ever deny her.“ Even at his cruelest, he had always been kind to her.”

Comments: okay, now this one is a classic :)

7. Shadows of the sun by withered

— “Death changes nothing, even when Neji is gone; Tenten is still trying to reach him.”

Comments: another short but necessary angst break :’)

8. A Series of Indecent Proposals by Pleasantries and the Aftermath

— “The first time he kissed her, she slapped him so hard, she left a welt.”

Comments: very very cute. they are just so. goddamn cute. very well written and nice characterization.

9. Drifting by Ariel32

— “They were drifting down a river, and the only thing that mattered was that they were driting together. You can’t help being in love.”

Comments: AAAAAAAAAAAAA this was so pretty!!!

10. Twenty Truths About Team Guy by RennaV

— “Twenty Truths about Team Guy the rest of Konoha doesn’t know. Mostly comedy and focusing on the relationships of the members of Team Guy. It does end kind of sadly. Sorry.”

Comments: OK THIS IS A BIG ONE. A BIGBIGBIG ONE. I REMEMBER reading this and wailing like a little baby. i really cried a lot. this one built up my heart and shattered it to pieces. beautiful.

11. Soul-Marks by fanfictioner22

— “The soulmate!AU Nejiten style.”

Comments: this one was so clever and thoughtful. so goddamn funny and full of substance. LOVED IT.

12. Irresistible by MyFallenAngel

— “The fact that Hyuuga Neji was irresistibly irresistible was undeniable.”

Comments: This was one of the fics I read earlier on, and it was SO CUTE. Everything was just so pure, so undeniably Nejiten. Please, give it a read!

13. Papercranes by Bloody Angels

— “The paper cranes have always been a part of her life and perhaps, they always will be.”

Comments: CAN YOU HEAR IT???!? MY HEART ROSE AND FELL. SO PRETTY. SO BEAUTIFUL!! broke it too. cried like a little bitch.

14. Blind by Midnight Insomniac

— “She is sixteen and in love.”

Comments: HNNNGGG THIS ONE RLLY STRUCK A CHORD IN MY HEART. THIS ONE ALWAYS STANDS OUT TO ME FOR SOME REASON. LOVE IT!!

15. Chance Encounters by Scintazzle

— “That humiliating moment where Tenten grabs the shoulder of a person who she thinks she knows, turns him around, and doesn’t recognize him. At all. And things just go downhill from there.”

Comments: CUTECUTECUTECUTE AAAAA

16. Severing Ties by fanfictioner22

— “Some ties are better severed and Tenten learns it the hard way.”

Comments: angst breakkkkk but it was v beautiful :’)

17. Truth Be Told by MistressofSarcasm

— “Hyuuga Neji falls for Tenten the day she almost broke his nose. Tenten doesn’t think of Hyuuga Neji as boyfriend material until an hour before he confesses.”

Comments: I REMEMBER THIS ONE. IT WAS SO CUTE. I LOVED NEJI AND TENTEN IN THIS. ONE OF MY PERSONAL FAVS :)

18. The Seasons by sotto.voce88

— “Love was never seasonal.”

Comments: v beautiful :)

19. Patchwork by NessieGG

— “When she thought he was sleeping, he saw her get scissors and snip off a section of the yellow sheet beneath their intertwined bodies.”

Comments: I remember always avoiding this fic no matter how much times it popped up on my feed. I remember it was because I was very scared of how heavy this fic would be. I was right. It’s too beautiful for words. I CRIED AGAIN. JESUS I RLLY CRIED WITH THIS ONE. Just really the perfect way to end this tier, please read Patchwork!! (classic nessiegg, always beautiful :(()

Okay, now that concludes my oneshots recommendations!! I get to breathe a little now :)) please read all of them. they really are the best of the best. Now moving on…

THE KONOHA INTERLUDE: OUTSIDE LOOKING IN

nejiten oneshots/ficlets written in the perspective of the konoha 13!! pls enjoy these for they are genius :)

1. The Lost Things by pusa-is-me

— “Where Shikamaru realizes that the Hyuuga Neji does know how to get jealous, and that for all her intelligence, Tenten was pretty oblivious.”

Comments: A little ShikaTen is always cute for me. I love shikamaru and love it when he appears in nejiten fanfictions because he of all people know how oblivious those two are to one another :))

2. No Competition Here by carved in the sand

— “You think your man has anything on mine?”

Comments: Pure crack-ish fluff and humor

3. Replacements by 716799

— “Nothing is ever as good as the real thing. (One day, she will ask him to henge.)”

Comments: o noessss…. but also AN ABSOLUTE MUST-READ. THIS IS ONE OF MY FAVORITE NEJITEN FICS OF ALL TIME. i LOVE THIS SO GODDAMN MUCH AND IT’S BEAUTIFUL AS FUCK NOT TO MENTION GENIUS!!

4. Exchange by Wielder of Paperclips

— “In a short exchange of words, Shikamaru enlightens Tenten. “

Comments: ANOTHER ONE OF MY FAVORITES. GOD I THINK ABOUT THIS FIC EVERY DAY. THE DIALOGUE IS SO CUTE AND SHIKA IS THE BEST!!

5. Princess by insert cliche

— “One of the biggest reasons why Uchiha Sasuke hates Hyuuga Neji is also the most unknown.”

Comments: vv cute!! a stoke of genius

6. Bad Dog, No Biscuit by Lotos-Eater

— “Or, Inuzuka Kiba’s Even Longer Day. Kiba is not quite the player he thinks he is. Will there be anyone to appreciate his animal magnetism and rugged charm?”

Comments: KIBA IS A GENIUS. I REALLY REALLY LIKE HIM AND I THINK THAT HE WAS WRITTEN REALLY WELL IN THIS FIC. PLS READ THIS ONE IT’S HILARIOUS.

7. Inner Light by NessieGG

— “She had heard the rumors. But she had never gone so far as to assume that they might be true.”

Comments: OMG. THIS WAS BEAUTIFUL. I really just like anything to do with Sakura. She’s so ugh here you really really feel her. Beautifulll

8. Sempiternal by saccharinely

— “In which she sends the letters left unsent. She needs closure. He gives it to her.”

Comments: A really beautiful SasuTen fic. Somehow it should be triggering but it all makes sense to me :)

HALL OF FAME: FICLETS

a.k.a.: stories that are too long to be oneshots but are too short to be actual fanfics. usually around 2-3 chapters but wouldn’t have been done any better :))

1. On Sex by Lotos-Eater

— “With titles like this, who needs summaries?”

Comments: Really, it seems shallow, but it’s truly one of the best-written, most beautiful and introspective things I have ever read. it really grew on me and I love it so goddamn much!! IM SERIOUS I RLLY LOVE THIS ONE ITS ONE OF MY GO-TOs

2. Goldilocks by a Different Name by Aquarius Galixy

— “Tenten discovers that someone has been living in her apartment when she goes away on long missions.”

Comments: vv cute fic with very witty dialogue :) neji is cute

3. Call Your Manager by Clementive

— “Tenten’s feelings for her English project partner are as complicated as his coffee order.”

Comments: another really cute fic. Tenten is a legend!!

4. Heatwave by Yahboohbeh

— “When she found her breath again it was ragged. Only one thought tore through her mind: Consume me. The Suna sun wasn’t the only reason their faces burned.”

Comments: very very hot n spicy like the title and caption suggesttttS

5. Perchance by KNO

— "Wow, what are the odds we’re both at the same party AGAIN?”

Comments: ONE OF MY FAVORITE NEJITEN FICS OF ALL TIME. i love this one so much. so witty and smart, especially all the expressions and dialogue. Super cute too!!

6. Four Conversations on the Subject of Flight by wildcatt

— “Flying is not as perfect as you imagine it to be, you know. Flying is just falling up.”

Comments: So fucking affecting all the time, I sweat. For some reason I always remember this fic when i think of nejiten :0 PLSPLS READ THIS ONE!!

7. Confessions by Cyberwolf

— “Tenten is trying to tell Neji something. He’s not quite getting it.”

Comments: THIS ONE WAS VERY VERY FUNNY AND CUTE. I LOVE ANYTHING WITH THE KONOHA 13. BRILLIANT!!

8. The Only Alliance by notesonlife

— “A black leather bound sketchbook binds her to him, and breaks her against him.”

Comments: THIS ONE WAS BEAUTIFUL. TRULY A HALL OF FAMER. SO MUCH SUBSTANCE AND ALWAYS STICKS WITH YOU. WRITTEN VERY PRETTILY. PLS READ!!!!!!!!

HALL OF FAME: ONE-SHOT COLLECTIONS

a recommendation panel of the best one-shot collections you will ever find on the site!! as if a single one-shot was enough… :”)

1. Vicissitude by KNO

— “A collection of drabbles and one shots. Neji and TenTen pairing. Contains regular appearances of other characters.”

Comments: THIS. THIS IS PROBABLY MY FAVORITE. EVERY frickn oneshot in here is a gem and i treasure all of them in my heart. genius, too. In here stems a lot of my favorite nejiten oneshots ever. PLEASE GIVE IT A TRY!!

2. The Path to Ashes by notesonlife

— “Neji says it’s their fate. Tenten shows him nothing is secure like that. NejiTen. 017: Naruto’s smirk reached ear to ear. “Next, whoever both gets twelve will kiss.”

3. One shots: Neji and Tenten by I-Heart-Hatake-Kakashi

— “100 Nejiten oneshots. Chapter 100 - Happy Birthday Neji!”

Comments: okay, when in your entire life do you get to say: “I WROTE 100 ONESHOTS FOR NEJITEN” ever???!?!? well, this author can! they actually wrote 100 nejiten oneshots and all of them were so unique and affecting and had this certain continuity to it that left me in tears when I finished.

4. Shades of Konoha: Dragon and Phoenix by Giada Luna

— “Series of oneshots featuring Neji and Tenten. Chapter 32: NejiTen Month 2019: Body/Cursed * They tell him he is born to bound - and he believes them.”

Comments: I have only recently discovered this collection and have been loving it so far. Props to Giada Luna for all the times I smiled bc of these!!

6. Right, Wrong and What Falls Between by Aquarius Galuxy

— “What is, what was, what may have been. (Part 34: Three feet away, Neji continues to read his papers, as if ignorant of what she’s doing.)”

Comments: ANOTHER ONE OF MY FAVORITES. God I really love these. There are some real gems in this collection. Genius fics. PLEASE READ THIS ALONG WITH POSTCARDS. THEY ARE BOTH QUITE GENIUS.

7. Untouched by MakeYouSmile

— “Why are you doing this to me?“ Tenten asked quietly. Neji did not give her the pleasure of responding. "After all that’s happened, you’re still standing in the same place.” –A collection of Neji/Tenten shorts.

Comments: A lot of beautifully written Romance/Angst on this one. Really heavy n affecting!!

8. Perks and Pains by keroRiBBIT

— “There are pros and cons in every situation. Most of the time, one just outweighs the other. Ch. 3: A lover with such long hair. Perks: It comes in handy when you desperately want to hold on to something. Pains: It tends to get messy in the morning.”

Comments: SHORT BUT GENIUS. THIS SHIT WAS FUCKING HILARIOUS, TAKE MY WORD ON THIS. THE FIRST CHAPTER ALREADY HAD ME HOOKED. SERIOUSLY IT’S HILARIOUS AND GENIUS AND AURGHHH PLS JUST GO READ IT!!!

9. Careless Whispering by misspandalily

— “17: Neji, Tenten and Lee are fairies who run a catering business together. Mostly AU oneshots.”

Comments: VERY CUTE FIC COLLECTION by one of my closest nt authors!! pls give it a try!!

10. Lotus Blossoms and Other Musings by Yahboohbeh

— “Collection of one-shots. Part 28: Her eyes were nothing like his.”

Comments: Very sweet collection :))

HALL OF FAME: MULTICHAPTERED

okay, okay, i gotta admit, i’m not particularly the strongest in this department. yes, I am quite knowledgeable on nejiten one-shots, but unfortunately i have not read a lot of the longer ones. but the ones here… they’re really good. so with those words, i hope and trust that you will enjoy these :)

1. Manager and Other Side Jobs by Scintazzle

— “Accepting the shady job offer wasn’t really one of her best choices…but discovering she threw up on her future boss was even worse. Tenten’s new relationship brings a whole new meaning to complete and utter servitude.”

Comments: THIS FIC. I have so much feelings with this fic. Scintazzle’s writing is one of the few that I can actually follow through. Very interesting plot and a lot of sexual tension. !!!

2. Eyes Like Pale Thistle by Aquarius Galuxy

— “She crawled beneath his skin and questioned the way he saw life. Perhaps all he’d wanted, really, was a little bit of control.”

Comments: I REALLY REALLY LOVE THIS ONE. Was super hot but had a lot of substance and a lot to say. Had moments of brilliance that I really appreciate!

3. Neji Gaiden by Levi Ackerman

— “Inspired by recent omake - if Neji wants a gaiden, Neji will get a gaiden! This story chronicles Neji’s life with his team starting from their graduation from the Academy. Follows canon with extra details.”

Comments: NEJI GAIDEN! HOLY HOLY SHIT PLEASE READ THIS ONE. DEFINITELY A MUST-READ. Since it follows canon it really gives it more points because IT GETS NEJI AND TENTEN’S CHARACTERIZATION REALLY ON POINT. AND EVERYTHING MAKES SENSE WHICH IS SUPER CUTE. PLEASE OH GOD READ THIS ONE. IT’S QUITE GENIUS AND IS VERY WELL WRITTEN. the author really knows the characters she’s writing about and UGHHH JUST PLEASE. It’s a shame it isn’t finished tho, but otherwise IT’S WORTH IT!!

4. like paper dolls and little notes by Seynee

— ”It’s not that Tenten hates flying. In fact, she kind of likes it. Especially when she gets free cocktails. Especially when she’s sitting next to a handsome stranger. Especially when she gets to talk to him. This is going to be good.”

Comments: nawwww this one was a classic. really hesitant to finish this before but the ending is totally worth it. made me cryy :”)

5. The Fat and Pretty of Art School by Paper Lanterns and Yoghurt

— “We’ll laugh and we’ll sing (poorly) but whatever happens we’re in it together babe.”

Comments: OMG. I LOVE THIS ONE SO MUCH. BASICALLY THE ULTIMATE HEADCANON TO THE NEJITEN HIJINKS. It’s super super cute and the characters are really on-point. had some really funny and endearing moments too. love Tenten’s friendship with shika and sasuke here. SUPER COOL YOU FEEL LIKE A COOL KID WHILE READING THIS.

6. Rapunzel by wildcatt

— “And she leads the blind prince home.”

Comments: It is quite short, but it is REALLY REALLY BEAUTIFUL. I WAS SOBBING, COMPLETELY IN TEARS during mass as I read this fic. Everything is written with so much heart and pain. pls give this one a try.

6. Complexities of Blackmail by Aquarius Galuxy

— “[Everything in the world is about sex, except sex. Sex is about power.] Lieutenant Tenten finds herself caught in a web of blackmail when Lt Hyuuga Neji stumbles upon her doing what she shouldn’t have been. Mere rivalry between old teammates turns into something deeper, much to Tenten’s horror and bewilderment.”

Comments: Ohhhh, blackmail, blackmail, blackmail. Of course. This is the god of all nejiten fics. It’s so fucking beautiful. Every time I go back to this in every chapter is just something so beautiful and bewildering it warms my heart. DEFINITELY A MUST-READ. Blackmail just sticks. Left me as a sobbing mess at the end. Very raw and very powerful.

7. Crossing the Middle Line by Scintazzle

— “You know you’re screwed when your ex-girlfriend becomes your new secretary…and you’re falling in love with her all over again.”

Comments: OH MY GOd this FIC THIS FUCKING FIC. very hot. sweet n spicy. short and cute. quite hilarious at times. loved it!!

8. Right Kind of Wrong by Nokito-chan

— “She yanked him out of his comfort zone. He made her want things she tried to guard against. Somewhere in the middle … hell broke loose.”

Comments: OMG. THIS FIC WAS EVERYTHING. super hot as well and was a really fun time. tenten’s bond with konohamaru was really sweet :)

9. The Twelve Days of Christmas by Giada Luna

— A quirk of fate turns Tenten into a modern day Snow White and tosses her into the lives of the Huyga-Uzumaki family right at Christmas. However, she has her own problems, and not time for 'Prince Not-So-Charming’ or anything else to get in her way.”

Comments: a very cute and light read that is perfect for the seasons! giada is such a talented writer; her words flow and make sense. everything is as it should be :)

10. Scars and Stitches by pusa-is-me

— “A love triangle of Gai-stronomic proportions.”

Comments: THIS. THIS. I hate this fic. I love it to death. So much conflicting emotions here, but left me at tears as always. Really just one of the best nejiten fics i’ve ever read out there, and the perfect last recommendation. I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO SAY. WHAT A WAY TO END THIS CHAPTER

CLOSING REMARKS

So that concludes my masterlist! What do you think? It was a long-term project I started in march? and have finally finished in time for the holidays!

I’m 100% sure that there are some brilliant fics I missed along the way, and I apologise if I haven’t added them. Please give me more recommendations so I may add them. And Please treasure all these fics as I have.

Happy Holidays and Merry Christmas! I hope these keep you covered for the rest of your breaks :)

Pls also check out the authors here on tumblr for they are still active :)

AUTHOR TAG:

@iridescentirises @aquariusgaluxy @misspandalily @giada-luna @fanfictioner22 @zealousheart

#nejiten #nejixtenten #tentenxneji #neji #hyuga #tenten #neji tenten #I SPENT SO MUCH TIME THINKING ABOUT THESE

373 notes · View notes

yousaidyes · 4 years

Note

how are you? have been drinking water? anything happen thats semi interesting? i suck at convos lmao, but yeah!! also any progress on HOT (i cant with that name-)- 🌈 anon

um, at this point i barely even am, anon. 😭 thank god the weekend is here because lmao i was on my last fucking legs. i hate my job. i hate formal suits. i hate board rooms. i hate black coffee. i hate pretending im a normal human being! my antisocial-depressed-anxietyridden ass is missing student life like hell. i wanna go back to colleegggeeee 😭 and nope, haven't been drinking any water. istg there's black coffee running in my veins. anywho. enough whining. it's a weekend and i'll damn well make sure to live the fuck out it. i'll drink lots of water and roam around naked in my room and read byler meta and stalk people on instagram. yes, this was my life before.

anything interesting? oh god yes! i made out with my best friend of nine years *screams* 😂😂😂 the only highlight of not only this week but the whole year. 💀 well, save for the fact that i wrote a fic this year *screams even louder* which reminds me…

ughhh i can't with that name either it makes me blush 😂 sadly there's not much progress plotwise. i was packed with work. didn't get the time. and when i did… instead of writing more i made another outline for the third chapter like an idiot. :) but it did help me realize some things:

first, it's going to be one long ass chapter. like i've only just written the starting scene and it's already more than 3k which was… the avg length of previous chapters??? and if we add that to the middle portion and the ending scene i'm already done writing… it's 6k???? so like???? it's because these shitheads have stopped listening to me and are doing their own thing and using me to make it happen. blame them! i swear it's like trying to herd a pair of chaotic kittens. cute and soft and fluffy little kittens but also evil as fuck! so i have no choice but to give up and let them guide me. can't help thinking of the time it was only supposed to be a oneshot with a 4k smut scene lolol

second, it's going to be full of action. no more of mike sitting idle, no more of zoning out, no more of flowery thoughts. i wanted to make it fluffy like the rest of the fic but when i tried to do that, none of it sat right with me. and then i realized… the graph is changing with each chapter. while mike was totally lost in his head in chapter one and both absorbed in his thoughts and aware of his surroundings in chapter two, he's gonna have to be in full control now; not only of his actions but also his thoughts. bc there are some things – some facts he isn't allowing himself to acknowledge until it's the right time. which is a challenge for me to achieve bc those facts are practically impossible to avoid while writing. 😭 he's such an idiot. 😩 but i suppose it's unfair to put that on him since it was my idea. 💀 i guess i just never expected him to take me so seriously but then he did and now im in deep shit.

third, i have to get over my shyness with the word “dick” otherwise this whole fic is going to shit and we're all screwed. :) i thought of using a substitute for the word like chicken nugget or something (a writing tip i saw on a writeblr) but that just made it worse. and yes i know smut can be written without mentioning dicks just fine but no! i love it sm when it's mentioned in the fics i read. i wanna give back what i like receiving, damn it! fuck it if im a pussy about it. dicks dicks dicks! there.

#this is sooooo long #sorry #like i said i have no concept of word limit #and this week was difficult #heads or tails?#asks

9 notes · View notes

benhardyisdaddy · 5 years

Text

All You Had To Do Was Ask

MASTERLIST

(ooof hello to this smutty fic okay FIRST OFF i apologize in advance cuz i havent wrote a full on smut fic in forever so i feel rusty so im SORRY IF ITS NOT GOOD but i hope u all like it and especially the anon that requested it xoxo also these gifs are how i imagined his face to look when he walks in on y/n sksksk)

Word Count: 2,822

RogerxReader

WARNING: smut, masturbation with an object

Being on tour with the world famous rock band Queen wasn’t as chaotic or crazy as you thought it would be. Yeah, their parties got a little rowdy and the sea of women you’ve had to swim through to get a single drink was insane - it wasn’t nearly as bad as what you had envisioned in your head when your best friend, Roger, invited you.

“We could really use a woman’s touch on tour. Keep our feet on the ground or what not.”

Roger was over at your flat as he lounged on your sofa with a beer in his hand, his feet on your coffee table. You were sitting diagonally from him as you listened to him attempt to persuade you into coming along on a five month tour with the band.

“Five months?” you asked shocked. “Roger, how will I pay bills if I tell my job I’m leaving for five months to go do god-knows-what with you all?”

Roger shook his head and takes a swig from his bottle.

“You don’t have to worry about that. I’ll help you with whatever you need.”

You lean forward and push his feet off of your coffee table, causing him to lightly laugh.

“See? Like that! You’ll put us in our place and everything will be perfect. We need you.” he says with giant puppy dog eyes.

You narrow yours and tense your jaw in deep concentration.

“It’ll kind of be like a holiday.” you murmur.

Roger eyes go wide as he smiles and sits up more.

“Yes! Exactly! Look at it like you’re going on a holiday. Just with an awesome famous band.” he teases, throwing you a wink.

You roll your eyes and smile as you think for a moment longer, finally coming to a decision.

“Alright, fine,” you say, causing him to ball up his fists and whisper ‘yes’. “But the moment I feel left out, I’m leaving. Knowing you Roger Taylor, you’ll be busy doing what and who during your free time.”

“I promise,” he says, leaning forward with a big goofy grin on his face. “I promise you’ll have the time of your life.”

And he was, sadly, right. You’ve enjoyed yourself so much these past two months with the boys. Roger’s kept his promise about not leaving you out and you really felt like you were apart of the band. You all were almost to the next city where they’d be staying for a full week. You were almost to your hotel and you were beyond excited. You can finally get to your room and release some steam that’s been bugging you this whole car ride. Your thighs are squeezed together as you watch the boys all laugh and talk about something you weren’t paying attention to.

You look to Roger and admire how he smiles - his tongue slightly pushing between his teeth and then fully licking his lips. You were so sexually frustrated that you began imagining how nice his tongue must feel and how experienced he must be. You’re continuing to stare at him and are so lost in your thoughts, you don’t even realize him looking back at you.

“You alright?” he asks, his brows knitting together.

Oh god, you were biting your lip hard. You shake your head a bit and smile to him.

“Oh, yeah. Just tired.” you lie.

He stares at you a moment longer, a smirk-like smile on his face. If he could read your mind, you’d be screwed. Hopefully by him, you think to yourself. Where were all of these thoughts and feelings coming from? You’ve never thought of Roger that way. Alright, why are you lying to yourself? You’ve been so madly in love with him from the first time you met when you were sixteen. You deny the fact you like him so you wouldn’t be completely devastated when he tells you he doesn’t feel the same. Who cares if you think about your best friend when you touch yourself late at night? It’s not like anybody else needs to know your dirty little secret.

“And here we are!” says John as he looks out the window and up at the hotel.

Hotel? This was more like a condo. It was huge and beautiful. You stare up at it in awe as Roger slides next to you and does the same. You look over to him and admire the way his eyes flutter up and the slight smile on his lips. He looks to you and you quickly look back to the building fast. Roger slightly laughs as the door opens up and out he goes. He reaches his hand out for you to take and helps you out. You all make your way into the building and to the front desk. People stare at you in amazement as they whisper and smile and point at the boys, obviously recognizing them.

Joe checks in to his suite, then Brian, then Freddie, then Roger. Now it’s your turn.

“Last name?” asks the lady.

Her eyes keep darting over to Roger as she blushes and smiles to him. You narrow your eyes and lean forward, making sure your voice brings her back to reality.

“Y/l/n.” you say loudly, causing her to slightly jump.

You can hear Roger hold back a laugh behind you as the lady embarrassingly smiles and types away on the computer.

“I’m so sorry,” she says. “I don’t see you on here for a room. When did you make it?” she asks.

“What?” you ask, shocked. “We made these reservation days ago. Are you sure?”

She types some more on the computer and shakes her head, frowning.

“No, ma’am. I have nothing.”

“Well, then can we just rent a room right now for her?” asks Roger, walking up beside you.

“We’re completely booked, Mr. Taylor. Believe me, if I could, I would.” she says smiling to him.

You exhale and close your eyes, trying to think of something.

“Just bunk with me.” says Roger to you.

You look to him and your heart jumps. The thought about sharing a room with Roger made you feel shaky and light headed.

“Share a room with you?” you ask, your voice barely audible.

“Your room, Mr. Taylor, does have two separate beds in it. Along with a kitchen, bathroom and living area.” she tells him.

Roger looks to you and smugly smiles as he reaches down and grabs your bag.

“Then it’s settled. You’ll stay in mine.”

***

You were really hoping for some alone time and that’s not going to happen now. You couldn’t do what you were going to do, knowing that Roger was right there. You both were in your room as you look around in awe. The suite was large and beautifully decorated. You move past Roger and grab your toiletry bag and head for the bathroom. You close the door and lock it fast. You place your bag on the counter and unzip it. Your heart sinks.

“No!” you say loudly.

“You alright?” asks Roger, knocking on the door.

You jump and force yourself to calm down and laugh.

“Oh, yeah! I’m fine! Just left something back at the hotel.”

“Oh, do you need me to send our driver to get it? What was it?”

“Oops, here it is!” you lie.

It wasn’t there. The one thing you were hoping to see - your vibrator. You couldn’t dare tell Roger that it was missing. How embarrassing. You sulk for a moment longer until you walk back out to the living room and spot Roger inside the bedroom. The lady was right, there were two large beds right next to each other. Great. You pick your bed and slide under the covers, your back facing Roger.

“Going to bed already?” he asks, shocked.

You fake yawn as you speak.

“Yeah, I’m super tired. Night, Rog.”

He stares at you as he frowns.

“Oh. Night, y/n.”

***

The next day was a little better, or at least so you keep telling yourself. You were at rehearsals for the whole day with the boys as they practiced for their set. It was nearing 10pm when they all finally call it quits. Roger walks up to you all sweaty and grinning.

“Sounded amazing.” you tell him.

“You look amazing.” he says a smirk on his face - or until he realizes what he just said.

Your eyebrows go up as Roger stumbles with his words. His face goes red as he attempts to explain what he meant.

“What I mean is that your shirt looks good on you. The shirt is nice. You look nice.”

He closes his eyes and embarrassingly laughs.

“I like your shirt.” he slowly says, causing you to laugh.

“A compliment from the Roger Taylor? If I was any other girl I’d be on my knees by now.” you tease, giggling as you walk away.

Roger’s face goes serious at your words and then he laughs a bit, not knowing if you were serious or not - you were, but he doesn’t need to know that. You all make your way back to the hotel and you were suddenly reminded of your lost vibrator and your certain needs.

“We were all gonna go grab a drink at the lounge area downstairs. You wanna join?” asks Brian to you as you all walk inside.

Bingo! Perfect opportunity for you.

“Oh, I think I’m alright actually. I’m just gonna go read for a bit.”

Roger watches you with a confused look as you begin walking away.

“You sure?” he calls out.

“Yeah! Have fun!”

Finally. You’re all by yourself. You hurry to your room and jump on your bed. You unzip your pants and fling them off, along with your panties. You close your eyes and allow your fingers to slide between your soaked folds. You imagine Roger doing it himself and that helps a lot. You bite your lip as you slide a finger inside and groan.

“Roger,” you whisper out loud, but it doesn’t help.

You need more. You huff as you sit up and look around the room. Your eyes dart across Roger’s half opened bag as his drumstick is poking out. A sudden, crazy idea hits you. You stand up and walk over to it, your fingers picking it up. Roger’s fingers have touched this so many times and you're envious of them. You bite your lip and make your way back to your bed. You lie back down and decide when you’re done, you’ll wash it off. He’ll never know. You slowly bring the thicker part of the stick to your core and gently push it inside. Your back arches as you moan out, imagining Roger once more. It feels so good. You pick up the speed as your other hand works on your sensitive nub. It’s not like your vibrator, but it’s working. You feel yourself getting close.

“Roger,” you whisper out. “Oh, Roger. You feel so good.”

Your speed is picking up fast, when suddenly you hear the floor creak. Your eyes fly open as you remove the drumstick and look up fast. Your cheeks are red hot as you spot Roger standing in the doorway of the room, watching you. You fling the sheets over your lower half and your hearts beating fast. You want the floor to open up and swallow you whole.

“Roger,” you breathe out, embarrassed.

“Are you using my drumstick to… Masturbate with?” he asks, his eyes locked onto it beside you.

You close your eyes and fall back on the bed, covering your face and groaning.

“I’m so sorry! I’m such an idiot! I’m so embarrassed right now! You weren’t supposed to be here!” you cry out.

“You said to not leave you out and I felt like I was, so I came back to hang out with you! Tell me what exactly you’re doing?” he asks fast.

“I forgot-”

You freeze and don’t dare to say anymore, but Roger wasn’t having that.

“You forgot what?” he asks moving closer.

“I forgot my… My vibrator. I needed it so bad and I had nothing and I saw your drumstick and I’m such an idiot! I’m so sorry.”

Roger laughs and continues watching you, his eyes glancing down at your thrown off panties on the floor.

“So, you forget your sex toy and you decide to use my drumstick as one?” he asks, understanding. “All you had to do was ask.”

Your whole body freezes as you slowly look over to him with a confused look on your face.

“Ask you what? To go buy me a sex toy?” you ask, not understanding.

“No,” he says, half laughing. “Ask me to help you.” he says slowly for you to understand.

“For you to sleep with me?” you whisper.

“Is it such a bad idea? You need relief, I need relief. I trust you, you trust me.”

The two of you stare at each other for a moment as you’re in deep thought.

“Roger,” you whisper.

All you can do is nod. Roger’s face lights up as he walks up to you and sits on the side of the bed.

“Yeah?” he asks, making sure.

“Yeah.” you tell him, smiling.

Without waiting, Roger leans forward and kisses you hard. You lean into him as his hand tugs on your hair, making your groan.

“Lay back.” he whispers against you.

You do as he says and before you know it, he’s discarded all of his clothes and is hovering over you. You stare down at his length and bring your hand to pump him a few times. His eyes flutter closed as he jerks a bit at your touch.

“Does this feel weird?” you whisper to him.

“I think it feels amazing.” he teases, smiling.

You laugh and playfully nudge his arm.

“No, I mean this. Us. Right now.”

He looks down at you with a sweet smile on his face before leaning down and kissing you once more.

“I’ve wanted to do this for a long time, so, no. Not to me.”

You’re taken back by what he had just said.

“You have?” you quietly ask him.

“I have.”

All you can do is smile as he kisses you and begins sliding your shirt over your head. His hand goes in between your legs as he rubs you.

“I heard you moaning my name.” he whispers in your ear. “Is that why you’re so wet?”

You close your eyes and nod as you groan.

“Good girl.” he tells you.

He spreads your legs apart even further and places himself at your entrance.

“Are you sure?” he asks you.

“You have no idea how sure I am.” you tell him, your finger grazing his bottom lip.

Roger smiles as he bites his lip and slowly slips inside of you. You both moan out as he slides further in and pauses.

“Better than my drumstick?” he asks, making you laugh.

“Much better.”

Roger slowly slides himself out of you and then slams back inside. You dig your nails into his shoulders as you cry out. He repeats this action several times before bringing his hand down to rub tiny circles on your nub.

“Fuck,” you hiss at the contact.

“Feel good?” he asks.

“Harder!” you cry out.

Roger slams into you while nuzzling his face in the side of your neck.

“You- You feel so good. I don’t think I’m gonna last.” he says fast.

“Fuck, neither am I!” you moan out.

thrustthrustthrustthrust

“Where do you want me?” he asks quickly, his voice shaky.

“I wanna feel you inside me.” you whisper to him.

Roger practically growls by your answer as he picks up his speed and is suddenly crying out your name as his body jerks. He fills you up as you hold him close to you and hit your high as well. You’re both in the world of pure ecstasy as you hold onto one another and don’t want to let go. You’re seeing stars as he whispers against you.

“God, I love you.”

You hold still and open your eyes at his statement. Roger shakes his head, not meaning for that to have slipped out. He backs away and looks at you.

“What did you say?” you whisper.

He almost sadly smiles as he shrugs and repeats himself.

“I… love you. I have since I met you.”

“Roger,” you whisper, cupping his face with your hands. “I love you too.”

His eyes sparkle as he smiles and leans down to kiss you.

“Ya know,” he starts. “I wouldn’t mind watching you again with my drumstick.” he teases.

You lean your head back and laugh loudly, playfully shoving him off of you. Roger laughs and smiles as he watches you grin. The two of you confessed your love and you both have no idea that, a year from now, you’d be re-confessing them during your vows.

Tag List: @oxuminaa @billyhargovesgurl @queengavemeasheerheartattack @queerdo-shmeerdo @jazzman-19 @strawberry-lemonade0 @benders-diamond-earring @miss-artemis-wild @marvlnstuff @smokinroger @borhapbitch @universallytragicpeach @akwod @rogershoe @just-another-roger-whore

Perm Tag List: @loudxxstar @iambuckyrogers @babebenhardy @ramimalekrp-roleplayerpage @mautand @rogertayolr @mothermercuryy @basics-andthesimplelife @caterinaborgia @discodeakyjazzyjoe @sheridans-dynamos @bethany-cc @onexlittlespark @idontbelievethiss @having-a-freddie-time @denimmay @bensrhapsody @manuosorioh @writing-in-hell @cupcakehardy @toms-irish-girl @a-kind-of-magik @thesecondlastjedi @dianamarie-has-a-blog @ezmina98 @finnbalortrash21 @frostedsugarcookiemint @yourealegendroger @popcrone818 @wronglanemendes @sj-thefan @borhapqueen92 @httpfandxms @haileylansley @arrozsocarrat @quirkydeaky @vanitysfairr @luvborhap @loveandbeloved29 @vousmemanqueez

#benhardyisdaddy #roger taylor #rogertaylor #ben!rogertaylor #rogertaylorxy/n #smut #fic #queen #John Deacon #Brian May #all you had to do was ask #benhardy!rogertaylor #roger taylor smut #borhap #roger taylor x you

367 notes · View notes

whitecrossgirl · 5 years

Text

Kiss the Girl

AN: This is for @sassbewitchedmyass and the anon who asked her for a fic based on the song from the Little Mermaid. As Sass knows I love fairy tale AUs, songfics and Disney songfics so I was up for writing this. It’s sweet, it’s cheesy, it’s Game of Thrones characters singing Disney songs so just enjoy it.

“Have you seen Jaime anywhere?” Tyrion asked Podrick loudly, struggling to be heard as the great hall became rowdier and rowdier as more and more wine, beer and whatever it was the Wildlings were drinking that looked like water but smelt and tasted like dragon fire. Jaime had vanished into the crowd about ten minutes ago and Tyrion hadn’t seen him since. The war was over, they had survived; this was a time for celebration, not disappearing acts.

“No, I haven’t seen Ser Brienne either, she went to get some air and didn’t come back.” Podrick replied and the two of them shared a look before slipping out of the room. The war was over. They were alive. The world was open to new possibilities and opportunities; such as the two most oblivious people in Westeros finally realising that they were in love with each other. It would make sense; the celebration of life, music, alcohol, the light of a full moon; all the elements for declaring love for another were in place.

They would just need a little push in the right direction.

Tyrion and Podrick made their way up to the battlements, looking down on the courtyard below. Jaime was leaning against a pillar, watching Brienne who was sitting on the steps, staring up at the sky. Tyrion had never imagined Jaime as one for pining, but the look on his brother’s face was definitely one of longing. Of wanting. Clearly Jaime wanted to approach Brienne, to speak to her or comfort her, but the way she hugged her knees and seemed unaware of his presence seemed to indicate how much she wanted to be alone.

Screw it. It may have been due to the alcohol he had drunk or maybe he was secretly a romantic or because he wanted to know what it was like to have a sister who didn’t want to kill him; but whatever it was, Tyrion had made up his mind. He was going to make these two fools realise they were in love. He had an idea, like a lot of his ideas recently; it was a reckless and possibly stupid one. Not as recklessly stupid as unchaining two hungry dragons but close enough. And it just so happened, the person he was with had one of the most beautiful singing voices he had heard in a long time.

“There you see her

Sitting there across the way

She don’t got a lot to say

But there’s something about her

And you don’t know why

But you’re dying to try

You wanna kiss the girl,” Podrick sang, Tyrion risked a glance to see that Jaime was glancing around, looking perplexed at the sound but it seemed that Brienne hadn’t heard him. Tyrion smiled to himself before picking up the tune.

“Yes, you want her

Look at her, you know you do

It’s possible she wants you, too

There is one way to ask her

It don’t take a word

Not a single word

Go on and kiss the girl.” Tyrion sang, this time, Jaime glanced up towards the battlements and spotted Tyrion and Podrick; his cheeks flushing scarlet with both the cold and embarrassment. He wasn’t sure how much the two had had to drink. It was bad enough that they were singing but they were clearly referring to himself and Brienne. Jaime dared glance towards Brienne but aside from a pink tinge to her cheeks, she still made no movement or gesture to show that she had heard the two.

“Sing with me now,

Sha-la-la-la-la-la

My, oh, my

Look at the boy too shy

He ain’t gonna kiss the girl,” Podrick and Tyrion sang as Jaime, still apparently too embarrassed for words, resorted to dragging his finger across his throat at them both. Before he could do anything else, Brienne suddenly leapt up and dashed up the stairs. Jaime had been too focused on sending silent death threats to Tyrion and Podrick that he hadn’t realised why Brienne had rushed off until Tormund had grabbed him by the neck. The blistering smell of whatever it was he had been drinking made Jaime’s eyes water; it had to be the strongest alcohol he had ever smelt in his life and considered who his sister was, that was saying something.

“Where’s my beauty? We survived the end of the world and I told her I’d find her after the battle! I want to make babies with her; great big monsters; they’d conquer the world!” Tormund exclaimed in his excited drunkenness. Jaime resisted the urge to smash Tormund’s face with his golden hand. Barely.

“I haven’t seen her for some time but I think she was somewhere around the stables.” Jaime lied as Tormund took another swig of his toxic concoction and stumbled off. Jaime waited until Tormund was out of ear and eyeshot before looking towards the stairs. “He’s gone.”

“Thanks,” Brienne said quietly as she took her seat on the steps again, returning to her silent vigil of the stars. Jaime wanted to sit next to her, they wouldn’t need to have a conversation, he wouldn’t even try to hold her hand. He just wanted to sit next to her, be by her side. That’s all. Nothing had to happen, he just wanted to be close to her. But he didn’t feel brave enough to do it.

“Sha-la-la-la-la-la

Ain’t that sad

Ain’t it shame, too bad

You gonna miss the girl” Tyrion and Podrick sang and Jaime felt his last nerve snap. It was bad enough having these confusing, romantic, emotional thoughts in his head without his brother and her squire singing like two lovestruck bards. Jaime walked over to the steps and climbed up them, sitting on the step beside Brienne, nudging her shoulder playfully as he sat down. Brienne had watched him approach and offered him a small smile as he joined her.

“I’m sorry about those two,” Jaime apologised quietly and Brienne shook her head.

“It’s fine, they’re just drunk and relieved that we won the battle; there are worse songs that they could be singing.” Brienne replied as Jaime felt a pang in his chest. Could it be that she felt so little of herself that she couldn’t believe that Tyrion and Podrick were singing about her? If they were drunk enough to sing then they would have stayed inside where there was a warm fire and a lot more to drink and sing about. Surely Brienne had to see that the fact that the two idiots were singing about a couple who were in love but too afraid to do anything about it had to be about them.

“Now’s your moment

Floating in a blue lagoon

Boy, you better do it soon

No time will be better

She don’t say a word

And she won’t say a word

Until you kiss the girl,” Tyrion sang; he could see that Jaime was starting to build up his courage. He had approached Brienne, sat by her side and was trying to work out his next move. Jaime was a soldier, a strategist, in order for the battle to be won, he had to make his move at the right time. Tyrion also knew that it would need to take action on Jaime’s part for Brienne to believe and accept her own feelings for Jaime. She wouldn’t admit anything until Jaime did it first.

“Sha-la-la-la-la-la

Don’t be scared

You got the mood prepared

Go on and kiss the girl

Sha-la-la-la-la-la

Don’t stop now

Don’t try to hide it how

You wanna kiss the girl

Sha-la-la-la-la-la

Float along

Listen to the song

The song say kiss the girl

Sha-la-la-la-la-la

Music play

Do what the music say

You wanna kiss the girl” Podrick and Tyrion sang, louder and more and more out of tone and off key. They were losing patience and were wondering whether it would have been a better plan to have locked the two of them in a room together and refused to let them out until they had both confessed how they felt for one another. That was Plan B; for if their plan of repeatedly singing/ordering Jaime to kiss Brienne didn’t work. That plan had also been Sansa’s Plan A.

“We can’t ignore them anymore, can we?” Brienne asked Jaime quietly and Jaime smiled at her.

“Unfortunately not. I am sorry for both of their behaviour.” Jaime apologised again. He wasn’t sure how he would have let Brienne know that he had feelings for her but it definitely wouldn’t have involved the two drunken songbirds who insisted on harassing them both. He would have done it properly; taken her for a walk or written her a love letter or a poem, brought her flowers or a new dagger; he would have let her know that his feelings were genuine; that it wasn’t some joke or rouse like what she had experienced before. Whatever this was, whatever he felt; it was real.

“Don’t be,” Brienne said; she had been trying to ignore their singing. Yet as it continued and she had observed Jaime’s reaction; she had bared to wonder, dared to think that maybe, just maybe, Tyrion and Podrick had been singing it for a reason. The flicker of courage sparked into her mind for just a moment. But it was all she needed. If he misheard or didn’t react then she could blame a range of sources; the alcohol, the exhaustion or play it as a joke, a way to get Tyrion and Podrick to shut up. “You can if you want to.”

“What?” Jaime asked, hoping against hope that he had heard what he thought he had heard. Brienne’s blush confirmed what he thought he had heard was true. He could kiss her if he wanted to. Gods, he wanted to. As long as she did; and he thought she did. Did she?

“You can if you want to,” Brienne repeated as she felt the air between them shift. Things had changed, they could both feel it around them; they were just waiting on one of them to make a move, to do something, anything, the tension was surrounding them, threatening to drown them. Jaime felt his mouth open and shut blankly a few times before he smiled at her.

“I want to,” Jaime whispered as he cupped Brienne’s cheek in his hand, gently stroking her cheek with his thumb. Brienne closed her eyes and smiled softly as his touch. Neither of them could believe that it was happening; something they both wanted and denied ever having wanted in their lives.

“You’ve got to kiss the girl

Why don’t you kiss the girl

You gotta kiss the girl

Go on and kiss the –“

“GO AWAY!” Jaime finally bellowed up towards Tyrion and Podrick, shaking his head ruefully at the sound of their retreating footsteps, a pause, before they clearly tiptoed back. Jaime was about to yell at them again but instead Brienne mirrored his action by cupping his cheek and turning his face back to hers. Before her courage could abandon her, Brienne leaned in and pressed her lips to Jaime’s. Jaime eagerly kissed her back and the rest of the world faded away except for the two of them in this moment.

From the darkened doorway where she had hidden herself away, Sansa watched the two lovers share their first kiss and a smile crossed her face as she turned and slipped back inside before she could get caught. As Sansa wandered back to the feast, she thought about what she knew of Jaime and Brienne’s complicated past and blossoming romance and her own melody came into her mind.

“Tale as old as time…”

#game of thrones #fic #song!fic #braime #jaime x brienne #Jaime Lannister #brienne of tarth #Tyrion Lannister #Podrick Payne #i'm not even sorry

87 notes · View notes

dubersbutt · 6 years

Text

Nerves - Jamie Benn

Anon Asked: Hi there! I am really into Jamie Benn lately and was wondering if you could write a fic where the reader and Jamie have gone on a few dates and are going to hook up for the first time but both are nervous. The more fluff, smut & detail the better! Thanks :)

A/N: This was oddly difficult for me to write but I hope y’all like it

Warnings: Smut

(thighs thighs thighs thighs)

Jamie wiped his hands on his knees. He had just finished practice was currently taking off his gear. Tyler was sitting next to him. He cleared his throat before asking what he wanted.

“So, Ty, you’ve been with girls before, right?” Jamie says quietly, to make sure the other guys don’t overhear.

Tyler gives him an odd look, “No, Chubbs, I’m a virgin. Why?” He takes a deep breath, “There’s this girl that I’ve been seeing and I really don’t want to screw it up.” “You’re asking me for relationship advice?” he raises an eyebrow.

Jamie lets out a small laugh, “No, I’m not that stupid. It’s just that this is the first time that we’re gonna...you know…”

“Have sex?” he gasps in feign shock, “Chubbs, are you a virgin?”

Jamie just rolls his eyes, “Forget it, I knew I shouldn't have asked.”

Tyler laughs, “Relax. Why are you so nervous about this date?” “I don’t know, I just really like her and I don’t want to disappoint.”

“Okay, well here are some things that have yet to fail me.”

~~~

You and Jamie had decided to go mini golfing for your third date. Had you known what a big cheater he was, you would have chosen something else.

“Jamie, I can see you dragging the ball, that’s cheating,” you laugh.

“That was one tap. I have no idea what you’re talking about.” “I’m going to put you down for like 10 hits then.”

“Give it to me,” he uses his long arms to reach for the piece of paper and the small pencil from your hands. You stretch your hands behind you. He grabs your hands and pulls you closer towards him, tilting your head up to kiss you. The two of you stand there before you hear some throats clearing from behind you.

You pull yourself away from Jamie and snap your head towards the noise. A group of junior high students are looking at the two of you, giggling. Both of you, embarrassed, quickly grab your golf balls from the hole and move onto the next one.

~~~

The last hole on the golf course was one of those ramps that you have to shoot directly up the middle, or the machine eats your ball. Jamie hit once and missed, you hit once and the ball came back to you so you lined up your shot.

You were ready to swing when you felt Jamie push you lightly in the ribs, throwing you off balance. “Jamie! Stop cheating. I know you’re a sore loser but I’m gonna win regardless if I get this in or not,” you tell him as you poke him with your club.

“I haven’t done anything. You’re the one who added all those extra shots on my turns.” “That’s because you were cheating constantly!”

“I did not!”

You roll your eyes and line yourself up again. Much to your surprise, when you hit the ball it goes directly where it’s supposed to go. The lights on the machine light up and you throw your club down in celebration.

“I did it! That’s the first time I’ve ever done that before,” you do a little dance in celebration. Jamie’s watching you with a smile on his face, “Come on, dork, we gotta go return our stuff.” He picks up your stick for you and starts walking to the counter.

“Don’t call me a dork, you dork”

“So, where we off to now, captain?” you ask as you get into Jamie’s truck.

“I was thinking my place. I mean we totally don’t have to if you don’t want to, I was just thinking-”

“Jamie,” you cut him off, “I would love to.”

The ride to Jamie’s house is pretty silent, but not uncomfortable. You listen to Jamie’s playlists and make fun of his taste in music. It’s not a far drive from the mini-golf course to his house.

“You want anything to drink,” Jamie asks as the two of you walk into the kitchen.

“No, I’m good.”

He gets a glass and fills it with water from the sink. You watch as he drinks, Adam’s apple bobbing as he takes a sip.

“I had a good time tonight,” you say.

“So did I,” he replies.

You get up and walk over to him by the counter. You put your arms around his neck and pull him into a kiss. His hands grip your waist and pull you closer to him. You deepen the kiss and his hands move to the zipper on the back of your dress.

“Is this okay?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you reply, short of breath.

“Do you wanna go to the bedroom?”

“Please.” He takes your hand and leads you to his room. It has a large king bed in the middle, but it’s fairly plain otherwise.

His hands find their way back onto your waist again and he walks the two of you back to the bed. He falls back and you’re being pulled on top of him. Your legs land on either side of him and you tangle your fingers in his hair. You deepen the kiss as you grind down on the growing tent in his pants. His hands are back on the zipper of your dress and he hesitantly starts to pull it down.

You slip your arms from the sleeves and remove the dress, leaving you in your bra and panties. You slide your hands under his shirt. He gets the message and soon he’s taking off his shirt the way all guys do, lifting the back and pulling it over his head.

You lean down and kiss your way down his neck, making your way down in between his legs. You undo his belt and start to push his pants down his legs when he stops you.

“Stop,” he pushes you away, “I don’t think I’ll last too long if you do that. And, I want this to be nice.” You nod your head and allow Jamie to flip you over onto your back. He unhooks your bra and slides his hand into your underwear. His finger circles your clit slowly and you throw your head back. He dips his finger lower, spreading your wetness.

“Is this for me?” he asks, voice low.

“All for you, Jamie.” He inserts a finger, slowly pumping it in and out. Soon he’s adding a second and then a third. He uses his thumb to massage your clit at the same time, sending shockwaves through your whole body.

“Fuck, Jamie, I-” you stop, unable to make a coherent thought.

“If you wanna...cum now, then do it,” he says almost hesitantly.

When your orgasm hits you throw your head back while moaning Jamie’s name. He keeps his fingers inside you, pumping slower now. When your head clears you ask Jamie for a condom. His face falls as he makes a sudden realization.

“I forgot to pick up a box,” he hangs his head.

You can’t help but feel disappointed as well, “That’s okay, we don’t have to have sex tonight.”

“I’m sorry.”

You lean up to kiss him again, but this time you get him against the pillows. You pull down his jeans and his penis, fully erect, springs out. You work for your hand up and down his shaft, thumbing the small bead of precum at the tip and spreading it. Jamie lets out a contented sigh from above you.

You slowly drag tongue over the tip before putting your mouth around it. You slowly bob your head up and down, he was thicker than anyone you’d ever had before so you had to take the time to adjust yourself. Whatever you couldn’t fit in your mouth you were pumping with your hand.

“God, (Y/N), I’m gonna-”

He doesn’t finish his sentence before your mouth is full of his cum. You swallow, trying not to let your dislike of the bitter taste show.

“I’m sorry, I-I should have warned you first,” he stammers.

“It’s okay,” you reply as you get up to press a soft kiss to his lip. You settle into the spot next to him to sleep.

~~~

When you wake up Jamie is no longer in the bed with you, but you can hear noises coming from down the hall. Deciding to investigate, you get out of bed and find the sweatshirt Jamie left on the counter. Pulling it over your head you walked down the hall to the kitchen. When you get there you find Jamie, in sweats, making something on the stove. You walk up behind him and wrap your arms around him.

“Morning,” you greet.

“Good morning,” he replies, “why are you awake? I was gonna bring this up.” “Whatchya makin?” you ask in a singsong voice.

“Pancakes.”

You finally untangle yourself from him to look at what’s cooking on the stove, “They look delicious.”

When the two of you finished breakfast - which included you asking if Jamie had any Aunt Jemima syrup and Jamie almost breaking up with you on the spot, Canadians were so dramatic- the two of you settled on the couch.

“I want to tell you something,” he says rubbing his hands on this thighs.

“What’s on your mind?” “I was really nervous about last night, so nervous I might have lied about the condom.”

“What? Why?”

“Don’t be mad, I just didn’t want mess things up because I really like you.” “I’m not mad. Why couldn’t you just tell me?” He shrugs, “I just chickened out. But if you're still willing to date me, then we can try this again.”

That’s how you end up on Jamie’s couch, the two of you kissing frantically as you try to remove each other's clothes. You’re sitting on his lap and you grind down on him to try and get any sort of friction.

“Jamie,” he acknowledges you with a soft mm, “condom?”

“Right,” he pulls it out from his pocket and opens the foil package. After he rolls it onto his dick you slowly lower yourself onto him. You moan when you bottom out, he was bigger than anyone else you’ve ever had and you were going to need time to adjust.

“You good?” Jamie asks sneaking a hand in between the two of you, rubbing your clit. He uses the other hand to gently pinch your nipple.

You nod frantically, “Harder.”

“What?”

“Pinch me harder,” you pant. He does so simultaneously speeding up the hand that’s on your clit causing you to let out a yelp.

You start to lift yourself off his deck, so just the tip is inside you, then you drop yourself down again, moaning as you do so. Jamie’s breath hitches and he moves his hand to your other breast.

“Jamie,” you moan, “you feel so fucking good.”

His hands eventually hold your hips and all of a sudden your being flipped over so your back is on the cold leather of his couch. His he thrusts into you with a newfound boldness, and you can no longer hold back your moans. Each thrust pulls whimpers from your mouth. Soon you’re being pushed over the edge, your mind reeling in your orgasm bliss. Jamie’s now erratic thrusts causing extra shockwaves of pleasure to be sent throughout your body. Jamie calls out your name as he cums, spilling into the condom.

“You still nervous, James?”

#nhl imagine #nhl smut #hockey writing #hockey oneshot #hockey smut #jamie benn #jamie benn imagine #stars #mine

345 notes · View notes

disruptedvice · 6 years

Text

Creator tag meme 2018

Rules: It’s time to love yourselves! Choose your 5 favorite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc!) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought into the world in 2018. Tag as many writers/artists/etc as you want (fan or original!) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works!

I was tagged by the lovely @startofamoment, and subsequently realized that I wrote over half of the fics I have on AO3 this year alone (67/109 total), so narrowing these down was fun. I joined new fandoms, so I had 3 OTPs that I mainly wrote for: peraltiago, starmora, thorkyrie (listed in the order I got into the fandom chronologically, of course) (and I just realized that even though I only chose one peraltiago fic, B99 is mentioned in three/four-ish of these reflections, so even if you only know me from one fandom, stick around, cause there’s a lot of cross pollination in these reflections)

Wedding Day -

As she sprinted through the fields, barefoot and free, it made her feel like a child again, racing through the fields of her home planet, because she had promised Mamma she would be home in time to help her with supper.

Her feet were dirty from playing outdoors all day, but, as green little toes pressed into the freshly tilled ground beneath her feet, she was fast, laughing like a wild child as she ran, confident that she’d make it in time to keep her promises.

This time, she had a different promise waiting for her.

It was a different ground beneath her, one she’d never been to before today, but running bare feet in the grass still felt good, just like she remembered. As she ran, long green toes were pressed into a soil that was a different color than she remembered, and her sprinting feet were long and sure as they pounded against the earth with the speed and grace of a gazelle in its natural habitat. Her feet were practiced now, balanced and efficient. This wasn’t the clumsy running of little feet slapping down with every step. This was quick, light, elegant movements, barely touching the ground before propelling into her next step, with long green toes covered in dirt of a foreign land.

Much had changed.

But she was still running and smiling like a wild child, racing home, because she had promises to keep.

If I had to pick an absolute favorite from this year, it would probably be this one, and the funny thing is it was almost never written at all. This was actually an anon prompt fic and kinda technically a starmora week fill. The prompt for day 6 was Wedding, and I made a self explanatory one shot titled Wedding Night

The day after I posted it, I received the anon ask “Starmora prompt: Peter and Gamora's wedding day.”

The thing is- I had no plans to ever write an actual wedding for them. I didn’t even have any ideas for what their wedding would look like when I got that prompt.

In an alternate reality that anon never sent that ask, and one of my favorite fics would have never even existed.

So really, to that anon, that you, because this is isn’t just one of my favorite fics of 2018, but one of my favorite fics I’ve ever written, so thank you for sparking it!

Whirlwind

The majority of my Brooklyn Nine Nine fics from this year were explicit peraltiago one shots, and this was no exception. Just the sex that immediately follows the decision to screw light and breezy on their second night. Kinda kinky, kinda awkward, kinda giggly, and definitely happy.

There’s a specific line in this fic that I love more than anything, and really don’t know why, just that I do.

Amy kissed him like finally and supposed to be.

Honestly, I think this is my favorite line of the year.

Like I just love the way it sounds, reading it aloud in my head. It just fits.

It’s always the best when people leave their favorite lines/parts in comments, and I’ve found that nothing pleases me like writing a mundane sort of detail and finding out that really made an impression on someone. There were a few specific lines left in the comments, but one comment really stood at to me, just in general and also cause of the line they chose:

She felt him stroking at her slicked up curls

Someone left a comment about just that line as a subtle detail being something they really liked. And I was like ‘huh, interesting’ because as far as just regular details go, I didn’t think anything of that line, and I had no idea how good it would feel in the center of my chest when someone left a comment on how much they loved what I just considered a regular sorta line

Healing

“There’s more to healing than what’s just physically necessary,” Val replied calmly, choosing to focus on treating and bandaging hand injuries rather than the weight behind her words. It’s a process, she thought, but didn’t say. She had a feeling he already knew.

Okay, so I actually got the term hand whump from a comment left on one of my older b99 fics, but it was so perfect the first time I read it cause like, that’s my favorite type of whump! I’m glad I’m not alone in being a sucker for hand injuries in the fanfic community. I don’t know what it is. Symbolism??? Maybe???

The first time I saw Thor Ragnarok, I was barely dipping my toes into the MCU fanfiction community with GOTG, so it wasn’t until I watched this movie again for the second time that I wrote my first Thorkyrie fic, cause, I mean, how could I not? How can you not just love everything about them?

Our Stories can Heal

“S’okay. I know this stuff is hard for you. Thanks for trusting me with that.”

Her heart swelled at that. There was a little ache at how he said that like it wasn't clearly just as hard for him, but mostly her heart felt warm and full.

“Thank you for being the kind of person I know I can trust,” she replied, and that earned her a chuckle.

This one is near and dear to my heart as a sexual abuse survivor myself- plus, I have a thing for badass couples supporting each other (can’t you tell from my OTPs?)

I pretty much wrote exclusively for B99 for almost three years, and while I love digging into emotional issues with a generous serving of comfort, I guess the most severe emotional issues I’d ever explored in a Peraltiago fic was Jake’s abandonment issues. While I’m clearly not opposed to exploring themes of support for traumatic experiences, I was never really able to do that until I had a ship that I could do that with in starmora.

It’s much easier for me to explore things like traumatic pasts in starmora fics because A: it’s canon that they both had traumatic childhoods with physical abuse and were both raised in just traumatic environments in general, and B: with pretty much every hurt/comfort fic I write (whether hand injuries or emotional issues) I like starting at the healing point.

With Peter and Gamora, the trauma already happened in the past, and I don’t have to establish it as an author (plus in the MCU meeting each other in the first movie and starting the Guardians of the Galaxy is where every member of the team’s life starts to get better). That’s all established canon.

If I were to write a soft peraltiago fic of healthy relationships and emotional support involving past sexual abuse for either of them, I’d have to CREATE something in their backstories that led to that situation, and that’s just something that I honestly don’t wanna do.

I only have two starmora fics that touch on this, and tags for both of those are “implied/vaguely referenced past non-con” because I never actually state anything about it directly in the fics, and never go into what actually happened.

Seriously, in both fics, it’s impossible to tell if it was past CSA or if it was a past incident of sexual assault. That’s how vague it is. And I’m able to be that vague with it, because I don’t have to establish traumatic pasts, because their traumatic pasts are canon. Rather than having to create a trauma like I would have to if I wanted to explore these healing themes with peraltiago, with starmoa I just have to go sideways from what’s already canon, you know? (In Our Stories Can Heal they’ve both had vague past trauma, in this fic right here, Peter is the only one who’s had extremely vague past trauma- both are about healthy relationships and healing and emotional support)

The Hourglass Runs Out of Sand

Here is the exact summary for this

“You are always telling me that I am more than what I was made to do,” Gamora reminded him gently.

“Yeah, but you weren’t made for it,” Peter said, looking up at her with a sudden intensity she wasn’t ready for. The anguish in his eyes made her chest pang with a dull, resounding ache. “Your parents made you so you could be a kid, not a weapon. That’s what you were made for. To be a person. You weren’t supposed to be used to kill people or the entire universe. That’s not why you exist, not like me.”

(Or: Peter’s body isn’t reacting well to losing Ego’s light is one of the author’s favorite tropes)

This was such a self indulgent work of all my favorite tropes and themes. Emotional hurt/comfort? Check. Physical hurt/comfort? Check. Mutual comforting? Check.

I even put in the freakin’ summary that it’s written for my favorite tropes. So, I mean, of course it’s gotta make my top 5 of 2018

Plus, I actually had some fun working in ideas that I didn’t actually use, but still love as concepts.

And it was actually thanks to the comments on this fic from Wawa_Girl / @marypoppinswasmyfatherbitches that pushed this over into something extra special as an author.

She made a much better in depth analysis of this fic than I ever could, and her entire long ass comments on this fic made my entire fucking year

Like damn, you get yourself a cheerleader who leaves 2,000+ word comments on your fics, cause I got mine.

Here are just 3 subsections of her comments that meant the fucking world to me:

First of all, I love the very premise, the specific types of emotions and trauma Peter is going through here. It's twofold, and it's fascinating. 1) The idea that he was only "made" to be "used," discovering and contemplating and becoming self-loathing over the fact that the entire reason he was conceived was to be used to as a battery, a tool, a thing to help destroy the universe. WOW. That is a take I had never really considered, or at least never thought about for long. That would fuck anyone up, create serious identity problems, that at least on the side of his father, he was intentionally created for evil purposes, and not just to be a person. 2) Guilt over the thousands of innocent people he hurt while being used as a battery, although it was greatly out of his control. Because to someone who wants to be a hero and with such a big heart, the knowledge that he even involuntarily killed anyone through Ego's power is horrifying, to the point where the guilt is so high he feels he deserves any physical pain/illness/injury. Awww man, another take I would have never strongly considered. We've seen fanfics where Peter feels guilty in the aftermath of Ego, but it's usually in relation to how he treated the main characters (never appreciating Yondu or realizing he had a father all along; not listening to Gamora and yelling mean things to her during their fight; being too cocky and rude to Rocket in the beginning, overall wanting to be a better person/hero/boyfriend). NOT insane guilt over the strangers and planets he destroyed via Ego's light. Goddammit. :( This is the first time I've seen a fanfic address these two ideas. And it's realistic and creative and GOOD.

- How Gamora originally thought Peter "felt" the other children, his siblings dying, how seeing the bodies scared her for Peter's well-being so much, and how making Peter relive their deaths seemed like Ego's brand of sick, psychological torture. But also that Peter actually meant he felt the other strangers dying due to the expansion, scared and running away and being buried. Feeling that is horrifying, of course he would feel insane levels of guilt. The comparison that, despite Gamora's guilt over her victims under Thanos, she never felt them die, and not all at once but over the course of years. Again, great contrast. I still love her reminder "That wasn't you." That could never be Peter.

- Peter breaking down crying when Gamora says "Earth" instead of "Terra." That's so interesting, one of the most original concepts in this piece, how that slight name change would resonate with him so much. Fascinating. And heartbreaking. He held it together well, and that was the thing that broke the thread. Poor baby.”

If you’ve got anyone in your corner who builds you up like that, then you’re set for life, baby.

(I think that Gamora misinterpreting Peter’s statement and thinking he meant the other children when in fact he meant the people that died during the expansion is the example of working in ideas I didn’t actually use but just love as concepts)

And that last one kinda goes to the point I made in Whirlwind reflection about people liking what I thought of as regular/sorta mundane details- like obviously the part about Earth/Terra was supposed to be emotional and I wrote it that way on purpose, but I didn’t intend it to be even in the top 8 emotional hard hitting moments in this fic, so what she wrote about that little bit has always stuck with me

And turns out her favorite part was a last minute addition, which always makes me feel extra special, I don’t know why. Finding out that last minute inclusions are things that people loved just makes me glow

If you have a reader who sometimes gives you comments even half as good as marypoppinswasmyfatherbitches gives hers, then you too can consider yourself truly blessed (she writes freakin’ amazing starmora fics too, so she’s the kind of commenter I aspire to be as a fanfic writer, you know? If you don’t have your own marypoppinswasmyfatherbitches, you go be somebody else’s marypoppinswasmyfatherbitches. You go make somebody’s year just by being you)

I’ll be tagging @thehoneymoonbinder, @marypoppinswasmyfatherbitches, @ephemeralcontinuum, @nymphrea, and @startsrose3

Honorable mention for Falling, or the fic that made me realize that I have a pattern, and every time I have a new OTP, the first fic I post for them must be a pregnancy fic. First B99 fic? Peraltiago pregnancy one shot back in 2015. Last February? Published my first GOTG fic, a starmora pregnancy one shot. Back in June? My first fic ever written for any of the Thor movies- Falling- a, you guessed it, Thorkyrie pregnancy one shot.

#2018 creator tag meme #tag meme #tag game #sharkinterviewee #creator tag meme #2018 #sharkinterviewee fics

3 notes · View notes

daisybaeks-archive · 6 years

Text

darling, it’s you (it’s always been you)

Genre: Fluff, bits of angst but it works out

Pairing: Baekhyun x Sehun, side/past Baekhyun x Chanyeol

Contains: wow this is a REALLY LONG FIC (at least for me), lots of tooth rotting fluff, my fave tropes (that are totally cliche but who cares not me), and uh yeah welcome to my first pairing fic i got carried away

This fic is very very special because it is actually a birthday gift!!!! Ari aka @byunrelatable has turned 21 today! Ari, I love you so so so much. You’ve easily got one of the biggest hearts of everyone I know. Whenever I speak to you I just feel so loved and like I’m cared for, and I really value you as a person. I hope you enjoy (I wanted to challenge myself with a pairing I’m unfamiliar with, and also because you’ve singlehandedly increased my love for Sehun)! I love you so much. I hope you’ve had a great day so far!

(also lol yes i was the anon who sent you the fanfic asks a couple weeks ago. it’s yan!!!)

Sehun is five and Baekhyun is seven when they become next door neighbors and tumble into each other’s lives.

It’s a particularly hot day in June, and Sehun’s t-shirt is sticking to him uncomfortably when his mother calls him downstairs. The last thing he expects to see when he gets there is another boy standing on their porch, grinning and showing off the gap where a baby tooth undoubtedly used to be.

“This is Baekhyun,” his mother says. Sehun immediately goes to hide behind his mother’s legs and peers at the strange boy curiously. Sehun doesn’t have many friends; there are the kids of his mom’s friends that he sees every year at the Christmas party, but that’s about it. This boy seems different from them. He stands there so sure of himself, smiling, seemingly not self-conscious about the fact that his shirt has holes or that his sweat is making his bangs stick to his face.

“Don’t be shy, Sehunnie,” his mother chides. “Baekhyun’s our new neighbor and he needs a friend.”

Baekhyun cranes his neck so he can make eye contact with Sehun. “Come on, Sehunnie,” he says, already picking up his mother’s nickname for him. “I wanna go play ball in the backyard.”

It takes a little bit of coaxing from the two of them, but Sehun eventually heads out and follows Baekhyun into his empty yard.

“You’re young, aren’t you?” Baekhyun says as he digs a ball out of one of the cardboard boxes sitting on his back porch.

“I’m five,” Sehun answers, shyly.

“I’m seven,” Baekhyun chirps back. He finds what he’s looking for and suddenly flings the ball at Sehun, who catches it easily. “But that’s okay! We can still be best friends!”

And by the time that the unusually hot summer is over, that’s exactly what they had become. Somewhere along the way, during sleepovers and barbeques and trips to the grocery store with their mothers, Baekhyun had become the most important person in Sehun’s world.

Sehun is twelve and Baekhyun is fourteen when he finally tells his best friend why he keeps refusing to tell him which girl in his class he likes.

Baekhyun’s sprawled across Sehun’s bed as he stares at the ceiling. “It’s not like I know any of them,” he whines. “Why won’t you tell me? I’m your best friend aren’t I? We tell each other everything don’t we? Don’t you love me?”

“Yeah,” Sehun replies, feigning disinterest. He spins around in his desk chair and hurls his pencil at Baekhyun, snickering a little when the older boy yelps. “But you’re being annoying. Knock it off.”

“I just wanna know!” Baekhyun says, sitting up. “You’re never into girls, Sehunnie.”

“Well, maybe that’s it then. Maybe I’m not into girls,” he blurts out.

In the silence that follows, Sehun realizes that he royally screwed up.

“I – I mean…”

“Sehun,” Baekhyun says slowly, seriously. Sehun feels like his tongue has turned to cotton. “What is it then? Do you like guys?”

Sehun’s heart crawls in his throat. “U-Um… Yeah? I don’t really know.”

Baekhyun stares at him for a long, long, moment. It’s almost too much to bear. Sehun’s two seconds away from bursting into laughter and saying ‘just kidding!’ when suddenly his best friend smiles.

“So I can finally tell you about this guy in my class, then.”

Sehun’s utterly relieved, though there’s a flitting pain in his chest that he can’t identify before it passes. “You too?”

Baekhyun smiles again, shrugs, and Sehun can see it now, the slight pink in Baekhyun’s cheeks, the fiddling of his fingers. His friend has a crush.

“I like girls too, but… I don’t know, Sehunnie. This guy…”

Sehun rolls his eyes. “Tell me about him then, you drama queen.”

Baekhyun lays back down and rolls onto his stomach, propping up his chin in his hands. He stares at Sehun’s wall almost dreamily. “His name is Chanyeol…”

Sehun is fourteen and Baekhyun is sixteen when he knows he’s screwed for life.

“Can I practice on you?” Baekhyun asks.

“Practice what?” They’re at Baekhyun’s house this time, home alone and sprawled on the living room couch.

“How I’m going to ask out Chanyeol,” Baekhyun says after chugging down the last of his orange soda. “It needs to be great.”

Sehun rolls his eyes. “Fine. As long as you don’t be gross about it afterwards.”

Baekhyun nods and sits so that he’s facing Sehun and takes a deep breath.

“Hey, so uh… I think you’re really cute,” Baekhyun starts.

Sehun bursts into laughter and Baekhyun hits him in the shoulder. “Hey, hey, hey, aren’t you supposed to be the supportive best friend?”

“I am being supportive,” Sehun says after his giggling as subsided. “What if he laughs in your face? You have to prepare yourself.”

“Shut up,” Baekhyun grumbles. “Let me try again.” He takes another breath and steadies himself, as if he’s an actor applying for a role.

“Hey. I think you’re really cute. Like, um, you have cute hair. And cute eyes. And a cute nose. And cute, ears, God, you’ve got cute ears.” Sehun fights down the wave of giggles that threatens to resurface and continues to listen.

“I’ve liked you for a really long time, so maybe, uh…” Baekhyun laughs self-consciously and scratches behind his ear. “I’d like to be your boyfriend. Or at least your date for a while. We can go get bubble tea, or we can go to the arcade! Whatever you’d like.”

And that last bit feels so real that Sehun’s heart clenches, and he’s about to reply, say yes, we can go wherever you want, but Baekhyun sits back (had they really been that close?) and smiles.

“How was it?”

Sehun’s bubble pops and he’s brought back to reality. It was pretend. Of course. Baekhyun was practicing for the guy that he actually likes.

“It was good,” Sehun replies, throat dry. (I like you.) “He’ll definitely say yes.” (I’ll say yes too, ask me now, don’t ask him)

Baekhyun smiles again, pleased, and closes his eyes. “Hopefully it goes right.”

“Hopefully,” Sehun echoes, hollowly.

Sehun is seventeen and Baekhyun is nineteen when he can tell that something is wrong.

“Alright,” Sehun says, shutting his bedroom door. “What’s up with you?”

“What do you mean?” Baekhyun asks, and Sehun is taken aback by how much older Baekhyun looks. Despite Baekhyun’s constant whines over Skype and text about how “you’re getting so much taller than me!” there really is no doubt who’s the older one. He hasn’t been gone long, only one year at university, but the differences are there. The way he carries himself, the way he dresses, it’s all changed. More than that though, he doesn’t look as happy. His smile doesn’t make his eyes turn up at the corners and his hands always fidget with the hems of his clothes. Something’s off about him, like Sehun’s viewing him underneath a different lens.

“Is everything okay?” Sehun asks.

“Yes,” Baekhyun sighs, running a hand through his (recently dyed) hair. “I’m fine. Everything’s fine. School is fine, Chanyeol’s fine, my family’s fine, I’m fine.” His voice quivers at the end, just slightly, and something inside Sehun breaks a little bit.

“You don’t need to pretend,” Sehun says. He steps a bit closer to Baekhyun and pries his fingers away from where they’re bunching up nervously in his t-shirt. “Not with me.”

Baekhyun looks at him for a second before the dam breaks.

Sehun’s got a body pressed against his and a face buried into his shoulder before he can even blink. The next thing he realizes, the next awful thing, is that Baekhyun is shaking, wracking violently with sobs that sound so full of pain that it tears Sehun apart just to hear them, just to be close enough to feel the reverberations.

“Chanyeol left me,” Baekhyun sobs into his shoulder. “I don’t – I don’t know what I’m supposed to do without him.”

“Does anyone know?” Sehun asks slowly.

“No,” Baekhyun chokes. “I can’t bring myself to say anything. Everyone thought we were going to get married-” He’s cut off by another round of sobs. Sehun brings him in closer and listens to Baekhyun pour the shards of his broken heart onto his shoulder.

They fall asleep hours later in a similar way: curled up underneath Sehun’s sheets and each other, Baekhyun’s face pressed into the crook of Sehun’s neck.

Sehun wraps an arm over Baekhyun’s exhausted form right before sleep overtakes him. I’ll never let anyone hurt you like that ever again.

Sehun is twenty and Baekhyun is twenty-two when everything finally clicks together.

Don’t be late! Baekhyun had texted him. Sehun stands in the back of the café, sipping at his drink absentmindedly. He’s excited for this, but then again, he’s always excited when it’s Baekhyun.

The minutes tick by agonizingly until finally, finally, Sehun spots Baekhyun walking up to the microphone. He watches him clear his throat and smile shyly at the small crowd that has gathered.

“Hello, I am Baekhyun,” he says. “I hope you enjoy today’s performance.”

And God, Sehun’s heard Baekhyun sing before. In the shower, in the car, along with cartoon theme songs, but never like this. There’s so much emotion in his voice that it’s overflowing, seeping into the room and settling into Sehun’s bones. And maybe it’s the coffee, maybe it’s Baekhyun’s voice, maybe it’s the pride and repressed feelings that just may be love, but Sehun feels warm. He feels warm and fuzzy and happy as Baekhyun makes eye contact with him while he sings and smiles, his voice sounding impossibly richer.

Sehun doesn’t even spend thirty seconds considering his next action.

He’s halfway to the mic when Baekhyun finishes his last note with a proud smile on his face. He’s there by the time everyone in the café is clapping. Baekhyun gives him a questioning gaze when he pulls him close.

“You did well,” Sehun whispers.

“Thank you,” Baekhyun replies, and then they’re kissing in front of everyone, and it’s not how Sehun imagined his first kiss would Baekhyun would go but it’s just as sweet and warm and Baekhyun giggles a little bit against his lips when the applause gets louder (Sehun wants to swallow that sound up until it burns him from the inside out).

“About time,” Baekhyun breathes when they finally part.

“What?” Sehun replies, dumbly.

Baekhyun just rolls his eyes and kisses him again.

They haven’t always been in love but they’ve always loved each other.

This is how Baekhyun describes it to him as they lay in bed together, the covers tucked over their heads.

“Of course I was in love with Chanyeol,” Baekhyun hums, pressing Sehun’s knuckles against his lips. “I can’t deny that no matter how hard I try. But I’ve always loved you. It’s always been you. It’s just that somewhere along the way, it went from brother love to I-want-to-kiss-you-a-lot love.”

“I already know this,” Sehun says.

“I know. I just feel like remembering it every so often.” Baekhyun sighs and snuggles in closer while he continues his story. “It was while I was at college. I couldn’t come home for a while and all I could think about was you and how much I wanted to kiss you.”

“You’re gross,” Sehun scoffs.

“You’re grosser!” Baekhyun retorts. “Your whole proposal was so mushy. I didn’t know you had it in you.”

Sehun runs his fingers over Baekhyun’s engagement ring. “Jongin helped.”

Baekhyun rolls his eyes. “Whatever. You love me.”

“Maybe.”

“You love me and I love you, my little baby bird,” Baekhyun coos, planting a kiss on Sehun’s cheek.

“That’s gross, don’t call me that.”

“You love it!”

“I don’t call you gross names!”

“That’s because you don’t want to! I personally would love-”

“Yeah, yeah, shut up, I’m trying to sleep.”

“Sehun! That’s no way to talk to your husband!”

“Future husband.”

“I’m going to return this ring if you don’t give me a kiss right now.”

“Fine, fine, such a drama queen.”

Sehun is twenty-five and Baekhyun is twenty-seven. They have an apartment together. Sehun works in the office building fifteen minutes away and Baekhyun is a music teacher who sings in local venues on the side. Their dogs Vivi and Mongryoung are the best of friends. They post pictures on Instagram of each other. They play rock-paper-scissors to divide jobs on cleaning days. They have narrowly avoided burning their kitchen down six times. They take walks in the park and have dates to the aquarium and stay up all night in blanket forts they make watching movies and snacking on junk food. They’re getting married next spring.

They’re happy and so, so, so ridiculously in love.

blog | ask/request | request guidelines | info | my main blog

🎧: Bloom - Troye Sivan

#exo #exo fluff #sebaek #baekhun #sebaek fluff #baekhun fluff #exo baekhyun #exo sehun #baekhyun #sehun #byun baekhyun #oh sehun

76 notes · View notes

jinlian · 7 years

Note

i’ve always sorta wondered, but what did sayokubo hope to achieve with yurio’s narrative arc? like, i wanna believe that they were going somewhere with it but ran out of time but at the same time im just sorta?? i want to like all the characters in yoi but like idk the storytelling and characterization just fell flat.

this is a question i can’t really answer, though i’m inclined to agree with you that they had an idea, just totally missed on the follow-through due to time constraints or some other reason. i’ll give them the benefit of a doubt, because the storytelling — up until the last two episodes, and even pieces within those episodes — is otherwise quite solid. but they definitely dropped the ball on this one.

the problem, in my opinion, is that they got too stuck on the story they had decided to tell rather than the one they were telling. they have said that they planned to have yuuri come in second from the start, and i believe that, because it genuinely is the only thing that makes sense to me when the rest of the narrative develops to point to a very different outcome. the romance was unplanned and developed during the production process, so i have no trouble seeing how the story could have evolved along the way in a way that didn’t quite match up with their initial plans.

the results of the grand prix final did no one any favors, yurio absolutely included, and it left me, as a viewer, extremely unsatisfied with the storytelling. sayokubo said they thought yuuri winning would be too predictable so they decided from the beginning to have him place second, but there are a few problems with the way they executed this

first of all, they’re actually pretty incorrect when they say sports anime protags just win predictably all the time. i’d say the opposite: more often than not i’d definitely say i’ve seen the protagonist lose at the big final game for a ~character development~ moment. this is fine when that’s what the story needs, but that isn’t want yuuri’s story needed even if it were not a common, predictable outcome.

here’s the thing: predictable writing is not necessarily bad writing. in fact, sometimes it’s extremely good writing when it’s “predictable” because the narrative threads have pointed in a certain direction. and it’s very satisfying as a viewer to see when a very relatable gay mentally ill protagonist overcomes his own self doubts and fears and recognizes his own capabilities and finally, finally achieves the dream he’s always had through being supported and encouraged in a mutually beneficial relationship.

it’s really, really important to note that “learning that people will love him if he wins or loses” is absolutely not a lesson that yuuri needed to learn. in fact, yuuri makes that clear as early as episode four, when he explicitly says on the beach that his friends and family have always supported him no matter what. that’s not the point, that isn’t what he needed. yuuri needed someone to push him, to give him something other than lukewarm “we’ll love you no matter what” sentiments that he already knows are true, and victor gives that. it then takes yuuri nine episodes to say aloud that he has always competed with the thought that he wants and plans to win. nine episodes. nine episodes. nine episodes while he’s in the middle of competing through an anxiety attack and pushing himself to do exactly what he needs to do to qualify for the grand prix final.

yuuri never needed to learn how to lose. he’s spent his entire senior career on the international circuit learning how to lose. yuuri needed to learn how to win.

people have this idea that if yuuri had won, he would have retired. that’s of course what yuuri was saying he was going to do, but that’s definitely not what the narrative was telling us. yuuri is talking throughout the entire season about how much he loves skating, how he wants to compete at victor’s side, you have junior skaters telling yuuri how much they look forward to competing against him on the senior circuit, and yuuri decides to keep competing while he’s watching yurio, before they know the results of the competition. the whole point is supposed to be about yuuri’s love for skating, how much yuuri has left to give to the sport, and it would have been ridiculously easy to have him win and go wow, i’ve only just started achieving my full potential, i love skating and i want to keep going especially if victor is coming back. this just kinda makes it look even more like yuuri only wants to keep skating to get a win and then he can quit. it isn’t satisfying. at all.

the problem is partly that yuuri’s unreliable narration led a lot of people to believe that he just isn’t a very talented skater, which is so far from the truth and completely ridiculous given the very obvious canon evidence, but somehow despite breaking a world record people still believe this because he placed second at the grand prix final. that’s definitely on the audience, but it’s also on the writing.

victor wasn’t the prize. he was never meant to be, the story was always supposed to be about yuuri.

and before another anon tries to get smarmy with me, i’ve been aware since the final episode that the results of the gpf are arguably a fix-it fic for tatsuki machida, who came in second at worlds by the slimmest of margins to relative newcomer yuzuru hanyu, bombed his grand prix final the following season, and announced his shocking and unexpected retirement at japanese nationals where he came fourth. it gave me some comfort for a little while, but after thinking more and more about it, i just kind of don’t care. an homage to tatsuki, as appreciated as it is, doesn’t override the unsatisfying narrative conclusion in the fictional story told in yuri on ice.

AND NOW ACTUALLY ONTO YOUR POINT ABOUT YURIO –

if anyone needed to “learn how to lose” it was yurio, and he absolutely did not experience that storyline in his grand prix losses to jj. he sort of starts it when he loses onsen on ice, and there’s a glimmer of development in episode 9, but it’s all just tossed out the window.

yurio starts off the season saying things like “i won, so what does it matter?” when victor tries to give him advice to improve. he’s willing to practice harder in the interest of winning, which is cool (but it’s not like any other skater in the show isn’t practicing hard??? yuuri literally goes to practice to work off his own anxiety, he practices so much), but instead of like actively acknowledging that other people are good skaters who maybe deserve to win, too, he just keeps... focusing on himself. he calls yuuri a farm animal to his fiancé’s face, says he’s good for nothing, shoves his feet in the face of a fellow athlete who’s clearly just had an anxiety attack in public, mocks another one who’s also just had a public breakdown, and the whole thing with his hidden admiration for yuuri doesn’t even work when you consider that he doesn’t want yuuri to keep competing for yuuri’s sake — he wants it so that he can beat yuuri.

???

yurio’s agape arc just doesn’t work, either, he skates like maybe once thinking “oh people are nice to me” but he doesn’t reciprocate that off the ice. it doesn’t work. it’s unconvincing. the story also drops the narrative threads of yuuri’s stamina vs. yurio’s, where they keep talking about how yurio doesn’t have as much stamina etc etc and yurio already pushes himself to his breaking point in ep9 — imo it would have been way more interesting to examine yurio trying to push himself even further and having to learn his limits and learn he still has a long way to grow. there’s no indication that he has learned any of this. he just gets justified for his shitty behavior and his “winning is everything” attitude and it’s. obnoxious. we don’t see any development of the agape storyline off the ice, and i’m fairly unconvinced we saw it on the ice too, but that’s a different story.

this is then only solidified in the welcome to the madness manga where yurio cannot handle victor and yuuri having attention for literally five minutes, even though yurio has just won the grand prix final, and pulls “no i have to surprise the audience more”

so like, i get that he’s fifteen and fifteen year olds can be shitty but he’s also a fictional character and from a storytelling perspective there’s just nothing satisfying about this and nothing that in any way actually lends itself to yurio’s growth. they threw in otabek to get yurio to cheer for another skater, but yurio still beats otabek and is still shitty towards yuuri. a really interesting way to get yurio to confront his agape and get some actual growth would be to have otabek beat him, and i hope we see that in upcoming content.

i think it was supposed to be something about yurio seeing that other people are good, too, but it’s not done well. it focuses too much on yuuri with not enough respect given to either character and doesn’t develop yurio’s attitude wrt skating or other skaters in general, which he needed. again, i don’t believe that otabek counts here. “oh good, another score higher than the pig’s.” it also arguably had to do with yurio seeing he has room to grow; again, in my opinion, not done well. yurio needed something more than just being annoyed that he didn’t win by enough.

like the narrative arc literally accomplishes nothing. he finishes the series just as stuck on “winning is everything” as he was when he started. there’s no understanding of why yurio even enjoys skating beyond that he’s good at it and wins a lot. i’m not invested.

anyway VERY LONG STORY SHORT i totally agree that it just didn’t work and did no one any favors. yurio got justified for his shitty attitude with “as long as i win it’s fine and also i just want to beat everyone else so people know how great i am” (like i truly don’t care if yurio is just mad that he lost the free skate so he feels “unsatisfied” with winning at the gpf, i truly don’t) and yuuri got screwed over in the narrative process for a lesson he never needed to learn in the first place so that sayokubo could avoid “predictable” writing. they’re better writers than this. it’s disappointing.

all of this is without the bullshit scoring at the grand prix final but kdhjfgsdj it’s fine IT’S FINE. as long as the movie and/or possible season 2 is done well, i’ll get over it.

#im yuriophobic #annanons #anna gets asks

95 notes · View notes