#eighth time’s the charm !!
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could I request [ rest ] sender lays their head on receiver's shoulder and falls asleep there with shy!reader and steeb? 🫶🏼
posting this before the scary lady in my head tells me to delete it! ily thank you for the req <33 | 0.9k gn!reader
“I am not tired, Steve.”
It was a complete lie, and he looked at you with a poorly-concealed grin like he knew it, too. The inside of his cheek is bitten between his molars, lips still curling up at the ends, and it makes you want to sink into the cushions of the loveseat.
Steve never gets enough credit for how observant he is. It really only increases tenfold when it comes to you, so he knew you were sleepy as soon as you crossed the threshold into Nancy’s apartment. He noticed every abnormally slow blink, every stretch and readjustment of your posture, every swallowed-down yawn. He knows you too well.
An arm is thrown over your shoulders as he dips his head to speak quietly into your ear. “Are you sure? ‘Cause we can leave whenever you want.”
When you lean back to look at him, his eyes rake over every feature of your face. The pools of honey make the journey from your lips, across your nose and cheeks, to finally land on your own eyes. Any mischief you thought you’d find in his gaze is replaced by something much sweeter, softer. His arm slithers from its place around your shoulders so that he can cup the back of your neck, gently massaging the knots so that your shoulders relax.
You can feel your heartbeat in your throat. You can smell the licorice candy still on his tongue.
It almost made you concede. Almost.
While you would’ve loved nothing more than to leave and spend the rest of the evening hidden underneath the covers with Steve, it felt too much like an imposition. It’s only so often that everyone’s free at the same time, you don't really want anyone to suffer at the hands of your lethargy.
And the implication that you were bailing on movie night for other reasons would earn groans and whistles that you don’t think you’d ever live down.
A nervous giggle bubbles up as you push at his chest with your growingly clammy hands. “I promise. I couldn’t be more awake.”
“Really? That true?”
“Mhm.”
He challenges you with a hum of his own, furrowing his brows to look more stern. But that same infectious grin from earlier threatens to crack and spill the fondness underneath the surface. When you nod, with a cute big smile on your face, he’s a goner. He leans over to press a kiss into your hairline and pull you closer into his side before turning back to the tv.
You think he’s given up. It was just one movie, it really wasn’t supposed to be that difficult.
But then his fingers kept brushing shapes and swirls into the exposed skin of your arm. In between the occasional forehead kiss, he’d whisper his commentary into your hair. At some point he’d picked up your legs and thrown them over his lap — something that lit a fire in your chest and had the flames licking your face. Then he’d started scratching your back, caressing your calves.
It was all his fault. Your head just inevitably became too heavy to bear on your own, and now you’re effectively drooling on his shoulder.
Steve is having a really hard time holding in the I told you so that sits so impatiently on the tip of his tongue. But he’s managing. Equal parts because he thinks you’re adorable and because he wants you to be fully cognizant when he says it.
“Baby,” he coos, pushing strands of hair out of your face. A quiet noise of acknowledgement comes from your mouth, but you only push further into his hold. Steve’s face starts to burn at the snickers from the kids that you’re blissfully unaware of. At the moment, anyway. He tries again, “Baby, the movie’s over. Ready to go?”
You stir, rubbing at your eyes with the heels of your palms. “Huh?”
“The movie ended.”
“Oh,” you reply lamely, still disoriented. It isn’t until you see Robin and Eddie’s smirks of amusement from across the floor that an anchor of embarrassment sinks into your stomach. You lift your head up and immediately wipe at the dampness on the corner of your mouth.
“Good morning,” Steve pokes fun. He tries to rub soothing circles into your back, but it’s entirely too overwhelming, and it makes you move to sit properly and hide in your hands.
“I’m so sorry, Steve. I swear I didn’t mean to fall asleep, but I was just so drowsy, and now you have drool on your shirt and it’s…it’s so embarrassing, I'm sorry.”
He chuckles, “Hey, no it’s not.” He decides to double down when you stay quiet, “I promise, it’s not. Don’t be sorry.” His voice is soft, touch gentle as his hand rests on your knee.
You turn to peek at him through the space between your fingers and just as you suspected. His smile is easy. Warmth radiates off of every bit of his being and it makes your embarrassment slowly begin to melt away. Your hands fall into your lap and reach out for his own, intertwining your fingers.
“You know I would’ve taken us home, right?” He asks. The word home slips from his mouth so easily that it makes your heart bang relentlessly against your rib cage.
You bite your lower lip to contain the smile that mirrors his own. “Yeah, I know…that’s why I didn’t tell you.”
“Wh…That’s fair.”
#eighth time’s the charm !!#this ending sucks but we ball!!!#you also sent this a very long time ago im sorry <33333#ᝰ cece’s scribbles#steve harrington x you#steve harrington blurb#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington hc#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington#steve stranger things#stranger things blurb#stranger things fluff#stranger things fic#stranger things#joe keery
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"No, I don't need much sleep."
The Guest (2014)
#dan stevens#david collins#the guest 2014#movieedit#horroredit#gif#my gifs#mia's boyfriends#eighth times the charm
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GAHAHAHA !!!!!!!!! Spent several hours painstakingly cleaning, heating, greasing, and reseating all the glass joints on the schlenk line and went from 0.9 Torr -> 0.13 Torr all throughout, I am so fucking >:D >:D
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this arguably third time try do [thing]. n just admitted fail & stopped. maybe will try again next “round.” maybe too defeated too pessimistic try again.
honestly it even impressive got this far. in hindsight it really miracle (sponsored by shortcuts & loopholes & luck).
but still
painful. hate it.
#with crochet eighth ninth or tenth or whatever times was charm. start over n over again over years because it small it just involve me n#so it low stake low energy#but this one big involve other people n take lots energy may even direct make health worse#n time dependent#n feel like future depend on it#🍞.txt
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"eighth time's the charm" and "a general history of invisibility" 👀
thanks so much for the ask, @cealesti! and i'm delighted to say that you have exquisite taste when it comes to picking from the work in progress tag game list.
two very tonally different fics here, though...
eighth time's the charm is a piece for @ladiesofhpfest - and, specifically, for the fortnight of the fest which will focus on women of colour in the harry potter universe [you can find the full schedule of themes here]
this bit of the fest should - all being well - get quite a lot out of me [i'm also planning a couple of little pieces focusing on cho chang and angelina johnson, because i admire both of them for yelling at harry at least once], but this is the main thing i'm working on.
and it centres on a woman who is about as far in the background of canon as it's possible to be - she gets literally one mention - but who has managed to have me in a chokehold since the publication of half-blood prince nonetheless...
mrs zabini.
i am obsessed with mrs zabini - she's famously hot! she's clearly killed all seven of her husbands! and yet slughorn was clearly willing to risk it all for a chance to meet her! unparalleled! - and i think that she's the perfect candidate to be given the sort of exploration this fest allows.
after all, where does she live? what does she do? who is she friends with [because it's clearly not going to be narcissa malfoy...]? if she kills her husbands for their gold, does that mean she started out poor? how is that going to be received in the posh, white pureblood circles she might move in? what side is she on during the war? what is her relationship with blaise like, seeing as she undoubtedly bumped off his dad? what is it like for her as a black woman in the spaces she inhabits?
and, above all, what does she actually think about love? did she pick her husbands ruthlessly, only interested in their cash and how easy they'd be to kill? or did she hope each time that she might have found the one, before they inevitably disappointed her in some way?
i think she's a bit of a romantic at heart... so I'm trying to get her to pick a little bit more sensibly for husband number eight.
we've compromised. he's very much not a nice man. but he also literally cannot die.
so there is, then, a little bit of overlap between this and a general history of invisibility...
because, yes, it's one of my guilty pleasures... bartymort.
i've always been fascinated by the inherent tragedy of both barty crouch jr. and barty crouch sr. [who's getting his own well-deserved attention in subluxation, another piece on this wip list], and the fact that - in canon - we only ever see their relationship in the broad brushstrokes of tabloid gossip: the clever, quidditch-loving son of a brilliant politician; the brutal terrorist whose dad was never home on time; the kid who was just in the wrong place at the wrong time and the man who sent him to azkaban without a second glance.
and even when we get the reveal - and, may i say, bcj you will always be famous - we're still left confused by a man who would let his own wife die in azkaban in order to free his son, by an elf who wanted her master to have the chance to watch a match again, and by the question of how - exactly - barty crouch jr. ended up aware that the dark lord is named after his father.
what lord voldemort was smoking that night is, therefore, a key part of this fic, but it is - in the main - a coming of age story for a young man whose life is lived, in many senses, in disguise.
never able to live up to his parents' expectations, never entirely sure how to relate to his father, alone and friendless - except for winky - for most of his childhood, mild, polite, and clever...
never clocked by anyone as teetering on the abyss of radicalisation.
ready to be destroyed by the very first person who deigns to pay him some attention.
lord voldemort's habit of collecting waifs and strays is something i love exploring, and him colliding head-first with barty's cataclysmic daddy issues is... a lot.
and, unsurprisingly, it does not end well.
#work in progress ask game#asenora fics#eighth time's the charm#mrs zabini#you will always be famous#a general history of invisibility#bartymort
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girl you know what i wanna do, i wanna rendez-rendezvous ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡
pairing: plug!toji x black fem!reader
cw include: porn with a little plot, drug usage ofc, a very minuscule mention death, oral f & m receiving, unprotected sex, smacking, choking, breath-play, some squirting, spit, lots of praise bc he’s so down bad for her while they’re fucking, PUSSYDRUNK TOJIII, backshots, prone bone position, fawking from the side, creampie n i think that’s about it!!! wc: 6.4k
ᰔ
ᡣ𐭩
ᡣ𐭩
“is it just a universal thing for all plugs to take for-fucking-ever to bring the weed? do they not like getting paid? this guy must really not like getting paid,” your babbling fell on deaf ears as geto and gojo focused on the game in front of them. occasionally they’d respond with a ‘uh huh’ or ‘i know right’ but this time they didn’t even have the decency to pretend to listen!
you huffed, picking at the charms on your nails, “you guys suck and so does your friend. i have plans later! i’d like to leave at a decent time to get ready.” geto whipped his head around to look at you, his brows furrowing, “i thought you were already dressed for the club…plus it’s not even dark out yet what you need to be getting ready for right now?”
“geto…wearing all fur boots? to the club? be smarter than that please,” you sighed, falling back against the couch. you whipped out your phone, sliding over the camera, “and for your information i’d like to get in a power nap before i go.” geto kissed his teeth, muttering something under his breath before his phone pinged, the sound catching your attention. before you could utter a word you were shushed by geto, a pout fell on your face as you fell back against the couch once more.
after taking a few pictures of yourself you grew bored once more—so of course you had to bother your friends some more. “so how did you guys even meet this guy? does he sell more than just weed? how long have you been buying from—”
“he’s here!”
“thank goddd! she’ll finally shut up, we won’t have to suffer any longer!” gojo tossed the controller on the table, his head falling in his hands. you grabbed your purse, taking out the money before standing. “i hate you guys i really do,” you glared at the two men before walking to the door—waiting for geto to walk out with you of course because stranger danger is very much real.
the sun was beginning to set, hues of orange, pink, and red swirling in the sky. “it’s so pretty out, i’m gonna need you to take a few pictures of me when we’re done,” you tugged down your mini skirt as you trailed behind geto.
you stood to the side as the two men talked���your curiosity getting the best of you as you peeked through the window. the windows were tinted of course, but you could still get a glimpse inside. now you didn’t know shit about cars but this was nice. “i wonder how far that seat goes back,” you mumbled to yourself, a small smile creeping on your lips. damn ovulation.
geto eventually moved to side, signaling that it was your turn. you straightened your back as you approached the window, your jaw almost dropping at the man in front of you. you nearly fell over when the first thing he said was ‘you’re pretty.’
“thank you, um, how much do i owe you again?” you asked, gripping the cash in your hand. toji looked you up in down, a smirk making its way onto his lips, “i like your tattoo.” he pointed to the area below your breast where ‘divine feminine’ was tatted across the curve in cursive. you grazed the tattoo with your manicured nail, your cheeks heating up.
toji opened the bag that contained your eighth before throwing a little extra weed in the baggie. he wrapped it up before holding it out for you, the baggie looking extra small in his big hand. “how much do you i owe—”
“it’s on me.”
now this made you really smile, your tooth gems now on display. “reallyyy?” you giggled, nibbling on your bottom lip. toji nodded, his eyes drifting to that damn tattoo again. his eyes flicked back to yours, “you just gotta do one little thing for me,” he spoke lowly, fist closing over the baggie. you stepped closer to the window, your heart pounding against your chest.
“and what’s that?” you fiddled with the end of your skirt, his intense eye contact now making you feel small.
“tell me your name, please?”
when you said it he practically swooned, his palms now feeling sweaty because he hasn’t felt this way since her. “such a pretty name…y/n….i like it,” toji licked his lips, his fist opening once more to hand you the weed. sure his hand might’ve lingered a little longer than it should’ve but you surely weren’t complaining.
“if you ever need some more please let me be the first person you come to, i wanna see you again. s’not everyday a guy comes across a pretty thing like yourself. you can get my number from sugu,” you had completely forgotten geto was waiting with you, but when you turned around he was nowhere to be found.
“must’ve went inside…eh whatever, now what were you saying?” you smiled, leaning against the car. since you were both clearly flirting you might as well give the man a little something to fantasize about. “it was very nice meeting you y/n, i hope i see you again soon,” toji gave you one last smile before pulling off, leaving you by yourself.
geto and gojo were rolling up when you came back inside, immersed in their own conversation. “you guys didn’t tell me your plug was so fucking hottttt!” you squealed, falling back into the couch, your feet kicking back and forth with excitement. “he’s so generous too….and so so cute. that scar on his lip is so sexy and he’s so big i wonder how big—”
“don’t say another word i’m begging,” gojo whined, covering his poor ears. the kissed your teeth now sitting up, “that man will be mine i’m telling you guys, he should be very scared because now i’m on the prowl.”
♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ౨ৎ ‧₊ .ᐟ
unknown number: hi! is this toji?
unknown number: it’s y/n from the other day, i was wondering if you were available to bring me a little something?
toji smiled at his phone, immediately saving your number. he’d hate to even admit it to himself, but he’s been anticipating a text from you for days. he just couldn’t get you outta his head! your smile, your cute lil doe eyes, your scent. you smelt so sweet, like the most expensive candies you get out for special occasions.
you made his chest tight, his palms sweaty, and his jeans tight as fuck—he just had to have you.
toji: send me your address.
toji: i’m omw.
“oooh shit—okay okay time to lock in,” you jumped up, quickly shedding your pj’s for a cuter, yet still cozy outfit to wear for toji. you settled on an oversized knit olive colored sweater and a long brown cotton skirt—yes it was an outfit that showed less skin than you were used to but hey it’s fall and hoes do get cold sometimes! just asked you were finished up adding the rest of your jewelry your phone pinged.
toji: i’m outside.
you suddenly felt nauseous, but the good kind—the excited kind of nauseous where butterflies where swarming all around your tummy. on the walk to toji’s car you held your chin up with confidence, the bracelets on your wrist dangling as you damn near strutted to the man’s car.
toji rolled the window down, a cloud of smoke swirling out of the window. “hey girl, how’re ya?” toji asked, setting the blunt he was smoking aside. you giggled, bending down to lean against the window.
“hi tojiii! m’doin’ good? you?” you asked, tilting your head to the side. toji hummed, shrugging his shoulders, “i’m okay, just been working.” it was silent for a few beats before he spoke again:
“i’m glad you texted, took you long enough,” he chuckled as he bagged up your weed, not even bothering to scale it. out of instinct your brought your hands to your cheeks, the coolness of your hands bringing you some relief. he just made you so beside yourself and for what???
“well now that you have my number maybe you could drop by and we could just, you know, hangout?” there you went again giving him those doe eyes as you asked your question in the sweetest voice. toji sealed up the baggie and held it out for you, “i’d like that a lot y/n.” the way your named rolled off his tongue felt so right.
as you both continued to talk toji could notice you were shivering despite wearing that big ass sweater. “do you wanna sit in here for a minute? finish this with me?” he asked holding up the half smoked blunt. you nodded with zero hesitation, quickly making your way to the passenger side. you were immediately met with warmth as you got in the car, your body relaxing into the heated seat.
“if this sounds too rude you don’t have to answer and i apologize if it does but….how old are you? i’m not saying you look real old or anything you just look, like, more mature,” you fingers anxiously tapped against your thighs, itching to grasp at the muscles practically bulging from his compressed t-shirt.
toji laughed. not just a little chuckle or breath through the nose, but a real genuine laugh. it was amazing to say the least.
“believe it or not i’m thirty four,” he gave you a toothy grin before sparking the blunt. your eyes nearly popped out of your head at his words. this man??? thirty four???
“ohhh so you are an old man,” you giggled, the sound of your laugh giving his chest that irritatingly tight feeling again. toji playfully rolled his eyes, taking a hit of the blunt before passing it to you. “i swear once you get past twenty five everyone suddenly thinks you’re old,” and he was certainly was not wrong. he’d lost count if he many times geto and gojo called him old man just to piss him off.
“i may be a little older but i still fuck like i’m twenty one,” toji rested against the seat, his eyes flicking to you. your mouth was slightly agape as you tried to tried to think of something smart to say back but unfortunately you were left speechless. you took a hit of the blunt, turning your body more towards him. “is that so?” you asked, passing the blunt to him.
toji nodded slowly, his eyes now low and red. before either of you could say anything else toji’s phone lit up, and you being the nosey thing you were couldn’t help but glance at his phone. “who’s baby is that?” you asked pointing his lock screen. toji smiled at the picture before looking back up at you, his smile faltering the slightest bit.
“that’s…that’s my son.”
it was quiet for a few beats before you broke into a big smile, a tiny squeal slipping past your lips as you picked up his phone to examine the picture. “he’s a cutie! look at those eyes—oh and those little cheeks! he looks just like you toji,” you giggled, handing the phone back to him. toji grinned, taking his phone back from you.
“ahh thanks! he looks more like his mother to me, acts just like her too,” your eyebrow quirked up at the mention of the boys mother. “i take it you guys aren’t together anymore?” you asked, cocking your head to the side.
toji was silent for a moment, his throat tightening at the mention of her. “she, uh, passed actually. a few months after megumi was born,” it was silent once again, toji was now avoiding eye contact with you. he nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt you place a comforting hand on his knee. he whipped his head towards you, an apologetic look now on your face. “i’m sorry to hear that toji, but for what it’s worth i bet you’re an awesome fucking dad,” you gave his knee a little squeeze before pulling away.
“thank you, seriously. it feels nice to hear that because somedays i really wish she was here, not for me but for him. she was amazing i wish he got to know her the way i did,” toji was never the type to talk about his late wife, especially with someone he was trying to pursue, but you were different. you made him feel so safe and he barely even fucking knew you.
before he could babble anymore about her he stopped himself, fearing he’d make it even more awkward. “she sounds great toji m’sorry you lost her so soon. don’t worry though i’m sure you’ll find another love like that again,” and you meant every word you said.
“i can’t believe it’s only our second time speaking and i’ve already managed to bring up my dead wife, fuck am i doing?” he chuckled, throwing his head back against the seat. you quickly reassured him that all was well and you were grateful that he was felt so comfortable to share such a personal side of his life with you.
“i’d love to stay and talk more but gumi’s sitter has to leave early. ill see you again soon though yeah?” toji couldn’t help but brush his knuckles over the apple of your cheek, grinning when he felt the heat radiating from it. “you blushin’?” his grin now turning into a smirk.
“get away from me,” you swatted his hand away, unable to contain the smile forming on your glossed up lips. “this was real fun though, don’t keep me waiting too long now,” you gave toji one last smile before getting out of his car. the second he pulled away you whipped out your phone, immediately dialing your best friends number.
“hey…you busy? no? good because i needddd to talk about what just happened with someone.”
♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ౨ৎ ‧₊ .ᐟ
toji: hey pretty.
toji: you free? i wanna see you.
you squealed, kicking your feet with glee as you read toji’s messages. tonight was the night. after two months of unbearable sexual tension you were gonna claim that man in more ways than one. you quickly texted him back saying you were indeed available and to hurry his ass up.
you made your way to your closet, sifting through your clothes to find the outfit. you needed something that’ll make his head spin and dick hard…perhaps some subtle lingerie would do the job.
you finally settled on a lacy, red wine colored nightgown that showed just enough to have him wanting to see more. you brushed out your thirty inch bussdown, tugging it just the tiniest bit to see if it’d stay in place. toji was a big man and he looked like a hair puller—you were hoping you were wrong but if he was you were certainly praying your hair stayed in tact at least a little after he was through with you.
toji: i’m here. hurry it’s cold as fuck out here.
you took a deep breath, channeling your inner tina snow as you opened the door for him. “hi tojiii,” you beamed, resting your body against the door. toji’s jaw was quite literally almost to the floor as he took you in. if he looked close enough he could see your pretty lil nipple piercings through the nightgown.
“come in! come in! it’s freezing out there,” you tugged toji in your house by his sleeve, quickly shutting the door once he was inside. “what’re you all….dressed up for,” he asked lowly, nearly crushing the rello packets in his hand.
be patient. don’t get too excited. be patient.
he kept chanting that over and over in his mind but it was doing little to help him, especially since he was already sporting a semi. “oh i just thought i’d put on a little something nice for you i don’t know,” you could feel your confidence faltering under his lustful stare.
“well,” toji took a step closer to you, and then another, and then another till you both were nearly chest to chest. “i think you look really nice, sweet of you to get all dolled up for me,” he trailed his fingers over the material of your robe, chuckling the tiniest bit when he saw your bt21 cooky slippers. you looked up at him through your freshly done lashes, a grin making its way onto your lips.
you slipped your smaller hand into toji’s, guiding him to the living room. he wasted no time getting comfortable, his body immediately relaxing into the plushness of your couch. you sat on the opposite end of the much to his dismay, “why you so far away from me hm? come closer.” with shaky arms you scooted closer to him until your thighs were nearly touching, but it still wasn’t quite enough for him.
you let out a tiny gasp as toji easily picked you up and say you on his lap, you could feel the full throb of his dick against your ass. “that’s better,” he smirked, squeezing your hip gently.
it was silent for a few beats before you took the rello packet from toji, two pre rolled blunts waiting in there to be smoked. “so how long do i have you for tonight?” you asked, sparking the blunt. toji ran his tongue over the scar on his lip as he watched you exhale the smoke, not even realizing you had asked him a question.
“i have until eleven, gumi’s sitter was nice enough to stay an extra hour,” ever since toji had accidentally slipped up that he’d been seeing someone megumi’s sitter has been extra generous with her time. it probably helped that she was also getting paid some very hefty overtime. you glanced at the clock on your wall reading 7:18PM. only three hours and a couple something minutes of him to yourself—it was definitely time to kick things into overdrive.
“toji?” you spoke softly, passing the blunt to him. toji hummed, taking a long drag of the blunt as he stroked your back with his free hand. you readjusted your position on his lap, your arms now wrapped securely around his neck. the next six words that came out of your mouth nearly had him busting in his pants.
“you finally gonna fuck me tonight?”
“what did you just say?” his tone was low now, boarder line growling out the words. you sighed dreamily, brushing his soft, jet black hair out of his face. “i said are you finally gonna fuck me tonight? finally gonna show me you’re not such an old man?” your manicured fingers began to scratch at his nape, making him groan. toji closed his eyes, his head falling back against the couch.
“take off your robe.”
♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ౨ৎ ‧₊ .ᐟ
“tojiii,” you whined in defeat as toji sloppily kissed, sucked, and licked at the insides of your thighs—so close yet so far from where you really needed him to be. you made a few attempts to take your thong off but toji was having none of that and slapped your hands away each time, threatening to tie your wrist together with his belt if you tried it again.
you mewled when you felt his lips finally kiss your center over your panties, his tongue lolling out to get a taste at the wetness that seeped through them. your hands were balled into fists by your side, the urge to hump his face becoming unbearable.
“lift your hips up honey,” you heard his raspy voice speak from below you. you nearly screeched in happiness as he finally slid off your soaked panties, tiny webs of your slick sticking to your pussy. you jumped the tiniest bit when you felt a warm glob of spit fall on your clit.
“relax sweetness i got you,” was all toji said before dipping his tongue between your folds, immediately moaning at the sweet yet tart taste that was you. you felt his tongue cup your clit, the movements so soft and precise and it had your eyes rolling into the back of your skull.
you’ve been with men who claim they eat pussy for their own pleasure but toji….it was like he was making love to you with just his mouth the feeling the indescribable. each gush of your essence that spilled out was quickly slurped up by his greedy mouth, his moans nearly matching the volume of yours.
he was now drawing slow circles around your clit and that was what had your legs shaking, pussy clenching around nothing as you came on his skillful tongue. “t-toji you’re so goodddd,” you whined, shoving his face impossibly closer to your pussy.
toji finally released your clit from his lips with a pop! your cum now coating the entire lower half of his face. “do it again n’ this time put a finger in…please?” your brushed your thumb over his lips, whimpering when he sucked your thumb into his mouth. he ran his pointer and middle finger between your folds before pushing his middle finger inside, cursing under his breath at the way you were already squeezing his finger so fucking tight.
“you taste just as good as you smell pretty baby, i just knew you would though,” he licked his lips, not once taking his eyes off your cunt. “why’d you keep her from me for so long huh?” he rasped, slowly adding his ring finger into the mix. you squirmed underneath him, your hips rising each time he fucked his fingers into you. “i, uh, i-i don’t know i just—”
“you just what?” he teased, now sucking your clit into his mouth once more. your mouth dropped open, thighs immediately closing around toji’s head. you gasped wetly when you felt a rough smack against your thigh, a silent warning from toji to keep them open. you shakily opened your thighs again, your hands now finding purchase in toji’s soft locs. “you still ain’t answer my question,” he hummed, now rubbing sloppy circles on your clit with his thumb.
you shook your head in defeat, physically not being able to find the words as to why you deprived him and yourself of something so so good. “you liked teasing me pretty baby? ya liked sending me home with my dick hard each time i saw you? hm?” the squelching from your pussy got louder by the minute, you second orgasm of the night quickly approaching.
“i—”
“did you like feeling wanted by me? needed by me?” toji was now using his free hand to push down on your abdomen, smirking when he saw your legs start to shake again. all you could let out was an absurdly loud ‘oh shit!’ before you were gushing around toji’s fingers, a small stream of cum landing right on his awaiting tongue. his eyes rolled into the back of his head as he slurped up every drop you had to offer him. he hadn’t even noticed he was now grinding against the couch, his dick now fully hard.
toji pushed your nightgown up your tummy so he was able to kiss his way up your soft skin until he finally made it to your lips. he brought his thumb to your chin, pushing down ever so slightly until your mouth was open. you knew that look all too well. you could see the hesitation in his eyes so you helped him out a bit by sticking out your tongue, letting him know he had the green light.
not even a second later toji let a glob of spit fall from lips and onto your awaiting tongue, a lovesick smile making its way onto his lips as you swallowed it. “c’mere,” he mumbled, pressing his forehead against yours as he shoved his tongue in your mouth. he caressed his tongue against yours, swallowing each tiny moan you let out.
“so sweet baby, even your kisses taste like honey,” he moaned against your lips, pressing his dick against your pussy. he shuddered when he felt just how warm you really were, even over his sweatpants.
“you’re so hard toji,” you whispered against his lips, your foot stretched up to push against his dick making him groan. “lemme—lemme suck you off. can i please? just a little bit?” you continued rubbing your foot against him, internally turning him into a pile of mush. toji mindlessly nodded his head, making quick work to sit back on the couch.
you stood up on shaky legs, now kneeling before toji as he stared at you like you were his prey. you hooked your fingers in the waistband of his sweatpants, pulling them off with ease. toji sighed in relief when his dick finally sprung free, no longer confined by his boxers.
“your dick is so pretty,” you bit down on your bottom lip, taking just a little time to admire toji in all his glory. he was long and not only that but he was insanely thick. you grabbed his dick gently, the soft, velvety skin making your mouth water. “don’t be nervous if you can’t take all of it, i know i’m kinda big,” although he sounded apologetic the shit eating grin on his face said otherwise. you had to prove yourself now—you had to give him some fucking work now.
you licked your lips before suckling the tip in your mouth, lord he was already a damn mouthful. toji hadn’t even realized he was holding his breath until he let out a long sigh, his head slightly tilting back. you kissed and licked your way up and down his dick, trying to make it as wet as you could before taking half of him in your mouth with ease. “a-ah shit y/n w-wait oh!” the back of his head nearly knocked against the couch as you took the rest of him in your mouth.
your throat felt so tight n hot around him it had him digging his nails into his muscly thighs, nearly drawing blood. you hummed around his dick, trying to relax your throat as much as possible. you knew he was close already, you didn’t even care if he came down your throat that instant. toji felt his balls tighten and began to frantically shake his head, “y/n please i don’t wanna cum so soon. please baby please.”
you brought your hand to his balls, now gently massaging them. he wanted to pull you away he really did, but no one has ever been able to deepthroat entirely before—you were showing him a whole new world. you began to bob your head, obnoxiously sucking on the base and tip as you did. “s-shit wait—”
unfortunately for toji it was too late for him. you felt a shot of cum hit your tongue and knew you had to milk him now for everything he was worth. you focused your lips solely on the tip, moaning as cum coated your tongue. “that’s so good baby keep sucking me like that, j-jus’ like that,” he ain’t even give a fuck no more that he came so soon. he had enough stamina to give you another mouthful of cum if you wanted it.
you finally removed his dick from your mouth, now slapping the appendage against your tongue. “now what were you saying about being too big for me,” you smiled up at him, both of your hands still stroking his dick. toji kissed his teeth, a low growl rumbling in his chest. he made quick work to remove his shirt, tossing it mindlessly to the side.
“get up here and bend over the armrest,” his voice had dropped a couple octaves and although it was a little frightening it didn’t stop the wetness pooling in your core. you stood up, about to remove your nightgown but you were stopped by toji, mumbling something about how he wanted you to keep it on.
you kneeled on the couch, bending over the armrest as you arched your back as much as possible. you could hear the crinkling of foil and quickly turned around, shaking your head at toji. “i want you raw, ‘wanna feel all of you without a stupid condom,” you nibbled on your bottom lip nervously as you voiced your request. toji was still for a moment, his eyes never leaving yours.
after a moment he tossed the condom aside, his hands now finding purchase on your hips. you could feel the hot base of his dick against your pussy, and you just couldn’t help but slowly move your hips back and forth. you both moaned in unison, the grip toji had on your hips now tightening.
“put it in for me,” he grunted, pulling his hips back. you licked your hand before reaching underneath you to grab his dick, giving it a few slow pumps before positioning the tip at your entrance. toji’s face scrunched up in pleasure as your pussy swallowed up his dick with ease, the dull stinging sensation hurting you in the best way possible.
it took a few minutes but he was finally able to bottom out, the tip of his dick nearly kissing your cervix. he pulled out halfway before slamming back in, the couch shifting forward the slightest bit. “good little fucking pussy,” toji grunted, spreading your asscheeks to get a nice little view of his dick fucking into you. you were taking him sooo well he was sooo proud of you.
“how you feeling pretty baby? talk to me,” toji wrapped his hand around your neck, pulling your body into his chest. your arms immediately reached behind you to tug at his hair, each tug earning you a pretty moan from him right in your ear. “feels s’good to-toji, you’re so f-fucking deep,” you gasped violently when you felt his rough fingers begin to toy with your swollen clit.
toji nibbled at your ear, licking the shell of it before whispering, “yeah? pretty girl feels me in her tummy hm? oh yeah i can feel me rightttt there.” your body jolted when you felt toji press down on the small imprint of his dick. he tightened his grip around your throat, nearly cutting off your airway completely.
“lets play a little game hm? i can feel how close you are so m’not gonna let you breathe until i feel this pussy cumming around my dick, that okay with you?” he loosened his grip on your neck until you consented, he couldn’t help but smile proudly.
“alright pretty baby cmon, make that pussy cum for me,” he growled now increasing the pace of his thrusts. it was now very hard for you to breathe as toji tightened his hand around your throat once again, the action making your pussy squeeze toji’s dick impossibly tight. your mouth dropped open, tongue lolling out of your mouth as toji fucked you like he hated your guys. “almost there girl, i can fucking feel that shit cmon baby give it to me,” toji grasped at your breasts over your nightgown, tweaking at your sensitive nipples.
you began to feel lightheaded, your legs nearly giving out on you. you finally came with a silent scream, your pussy spasming around toji’s dick. just as you were at the height of your orgasm toji finally removed his hand from your throat allowing you to breathe. you fell against the armrest, your body going completely limp as toji milked your orgasm out of your. “goddamn you’re still cumming baby, such a good girl for me m’so proud of you,” toji was praising you left and right as stream after stream of your cum soaked his thighs and the couch.
after you were done toji let you rest for a moment, still inside you as he gently stroked your back. “you okay mama?” he whispered in your ear, giving your shoulder a soft kiss. you hummed, nodding your head and crazy enough you still wanted more.
♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ౨ৎ ‧₊ .ᐟ
“oh my goddd,” your feet kicked against the couch as toji’s bigger body pushed you further into the cushions, preventing you from moving out of his grasp. he had you in a chokehold, your drool and tears dripping onto his bicep as he fucked into you like a madman. “that’s that shit….good shit right here goddamn y/n,” toji grunted in your ear, sounding genuinely frustrated at just how good your pussy was.
my mans was completely lost in the sauce. not a thought behind his eyes besides one thing—you. your warmth, your wetness, the fact that you still smelled like a goddamn s’more even with the intense smell of sex and weed in the air. for the first time in his life toji was pussydrunk.
“m’gonna cum honey, you ready for me?” a symphony of moans and whiny yes’ poured out of your trembling lips. three more strokes and toji was letting out a pornographic moan, his teeth biting down onto the soft skin of shoulder. rope after rope of his warm cum coated your walls, so much it was beginning to leak from your pussy. “so full,” you mewled, your toes curling at the warmth that now radiated throughout your entire body.
toji wholeheartedly believes that he was a man that was born to breed a whole lotta babies because it was absolutely ridiculous at how much he came—especially right now. each time he thought he was done your pussy would squeeze him once more, milking more out of him until it was almost painful. what was even worse was the he was still hard.
that’s how he ended up taking you roughly from the side. your ass was clapping back against his pelvis n thighs so hard they turned the lightest shade of pink. “y’hear how sloppy your pussy sounds honey? makes me wanna ruin you over and over again,” he growled in your ear, gripping onto your chin to have you look at him. your eyes were closed in bliss, a trail of drool slipping from your lips and onto your chin.
toji licked at the spit on your chin before giving your face a couple quick slaps, “open your eyes n’ look at me while i fuck you. cmon pretty baby lemme see those eyes.” you cracked your eyes open immediately whimpering at toji’s intense gaze. toji slowed down his pace, now settling for slow, deep strokes. “you’re so pretty,” he whispered, nudging his nose against yours.
you gave him a weak smile, moaning when his dick hit a particularly deep spot. “can’t nobody else see you like this again except me got it? you’re my girl now. mine to hold, kiss, fuck—i want all that shit y/n. i want all of you, can i have you?” if you able to you would’ve swooned over his words, but unfortunately all your poor little fucked up brain could muster was a raspy ‘yes.’
toji gave you a sweet smile and a lil kiss before going back to his brutal pace, the couch thumping the ground with each thrust. “that’s what i like to hear honey, gonna treat you so well. make you the happiest girl in the world i promise,” and he meant it. every promise he whispered in your ear he would make sure to keep it until the end of his days. you were the one—he was sure of it.
“i’m gonna cum toji,” you whined, bringing your hand down to rub furiously at your clit. toji gave you a helping hand by spreading your lips, the squelching noise from your pussy increasing as he did so. “m’gonna cum too honey, let’s do it together cmon m’right there,” you both so so close until toji accidentally slipped out of your pussy, a pearl of cum dribbling from the tip.
you were just too wet he could barely fuck into you without slipping out once more, frustration overtaking the both you. “goddammit,” he grunted, gripping his dick tightly once again before slipping back in you—this time he just kept a hold on it. “fuck back into me baby, you can do it there you go,” toji moaned in bliss as you fucked back into him, your wetness dripping onto his knuckles.
“yes yes yes f-fuck!” you pressed your backside into him as much as possible as your orgasm took over you, his trailing not far behind. the hand he was using to hold his dick steady was now holding your leg up, gripping onto the soft flesh of your thigh as he fucked into you with shallow strokes. he came inside your pussy with a deep groan, pulling out to cover your pussy with the rest of it.
toji gently set your leg down, now pulling your trembling body into his chest. “it’s okay pretty thing we’re done now, i got you just breathe with me,” you took a couple deep breaths, running your hand along toji’s toned body just to make sure he was really there—that this really happened.
“that was good, thank you toji,” you whispered, nuzzling your face in his chest. toji kissed the crown of your head, taking yet another deep inhale of your sweet scent. “no thank you, that was the best sex i’ve ever fucking had and i mean it,” he chuckled, giving your shoulder a loving squeeze. you glanced at the clock on your wall, whining when you said it was thirty minutes till eleven.
“i guess you’ll have to get going soon hm?” you mumbled, making toji frown. toji nibbled on his lip before shaking his head, “don’t worry about it honey i’ll take care of it, you just rest up yeah?” he gave your forehead another kiss, shushing any protest you had about him having to leave.
once you were fast asleep toji reached for his phone that was on the coffee table, careful not to wake you. he dialed the sitters number, praying for the absolute best.
“mr. fushiguro! how’s your date going, will you be home soon?” toji felt horrible for what he was about to ask but he at least had to try. “it’s going good, thank you! actually i was wondering if you would stay the night with megumi? paying you overtime is no problem in fact i’ll triple it! i just wanna spend as much time with my girlfriend as i can,” sure he hadn’t properly asked you to be his woman yet but she didn’t have to know that.
the line was quiet for a moment before the sitter started laughing, “of course i wouldn’t mind saying the night with him! i haven’t seen you this giddy over a woman since mrs. fushiguro, please enjoy your night and i’ll see you in the morning!” after multiple thank you’s toji hung up, his heart swelling with happiness.
“baby….hey i’m able to stay the night im gonna take us to bed, where’s your room?” you mumbled out the directions to your room and before you knew it you were wrapped in your comforter with toji glued to your side.
#toji smut#toji fushiguro smut#toji fushiguro x you#toji fushiguro x reader#toji x black reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk smut#jjk toji#jjk x reader
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tourney favor ; aemond targaryen (m).
pairing ; aemond targaryen x wife!reader
synopsis ; it was rare for knights to ask married ladies for their favors, as it was often a way to win a lady's hand in the midst of courtship. but it wasn’t improper by any means. strange, perhaps, but not improper. you glanced back at aemond. he was studying you, single eye narrowed, jaw clenched. was he jealous?
wc ; 2.1k
themes ; smut, mild fluff, established relationship (married)
warnings / includes ; jealous aemond, unprotected sex, breeding kink and brief mentions of pregnancy/children, wall sex, foul language, mentions of violence/murder
a/n ; if this fic sounds familiar, i took some lines from my far-lengthier aemond fic, balance the scales :)
main masterlist.
A grand tourney was held in honor of Jahaerys and Jahaera’s eighth nameday.
You sat beside Helaena in the high platforms on the elongated arena, hands twisting in your lap. Tourneys usually bored you to no end—watching men hurt themselves over little else than theatrical show and bragging rights was not something you were very keen on. It felt like a waste of time to you, especially because you were already spoken for—you’d much rather be reading, or honing your needlework, or playing with the twins. To your other side was your husband, Aemond, looking equally disinterested in the event. You noticed his long fingers tapping impatiently against his knee, as if he were itching to leave. His older brother Aegon was nowhere to be seen, most likely somewhere in the bowels of the Street of Silk.
You couldn’t help but feel envious. How come the father of the children the realm was celebrating was off gallivanting through the city, probably sunken into his cups and his whores? He was free to fuck whoever and whenever he wanted. Whilst you had to sit for hours on end beside your beloved husband, with whom you wanted to do nothing more than clamber into his lap and kiss him until the two of you grew dizzy.
Perhaps a large part of your agitation was due to the fact that Aemond had sunken to his knees in your chambers only an hour before, his tongue spelling worship over your drenched core. And you’d been so close, ever so close to falling off the edge—
Until there came a knock on the door, and Criston Cole’s muffled voice echoed through the shut door. He had to urgently speak to Aemond before the tourney, apparently.
Something akin to a growl caught in his throat as your husband reluctantly drew away from you. You moaned lowly at the loss, sitting up at the edge of the four-poster bed as you watched him wipe your arousal from his chin.
“We’ll resume this tonight,” he had whispered into your flushed ears, before whisking off to speak to Ser Criston.
Seven fucking hells.
It took several moments for you to compose yourself, before you called in one of your handmaidens to help you dress for the tourney. Redo your hairstyle, too, because Aemond had certainly mussed it beyond salvation.
And now, as you fussed with your fingers in the stands, boredly clapping whenever the crowd was, it only came as an utter surprise when you heard your name called out. You sat up straighter, eyes falling from your hands to the riding grounds down below. It didn’t slip past your notice seeing Aemond tense, his fingers curling into a pale fist over his thigh.
A handsome knight donned in black-and-yellow armor stared up at you. You faintly recalled the patterned sigil emblazoned into the shield he was holding—he was of House Darklyn. He had taken off his helmet momentarily, lodged between his waist and his free arm. Gorgeous dark locks spilled over the nape of his neck, only slightly curled.
The olive green of his eyes gleamed boldly, full lips upturned into a charming smile. “Might I be honored with your favor, my Lady? I can certainly use the luck.”
Your gaze flickered over to his formidable opponent, a strong and muscular man, shrouded in white. His shield bore a red lion. House Reyne.
It was rare for knights to ask married ladies for their favors, as it was often a way to win a lady's hand in the midst of courtship. But it wasn’t improper by any means. Strange, perhaps, but not improper. You glanced back at Aemond. He was studying you, single eye narrowed, jaw clenched.
Was he jealous?
You could feel the muted arousal roar back to life in your lower abdomen.
“Of course, Ser,” you called back with a knowing smile in your husband’s direction. You grabbed a ring of woven flowers and tossed it down over the jousting lance. “Be careful.”
Off the Darklyn knight went with your favor swaying by the lance’s handle, the metal grating of his helmet pulled down over his grinning features. You weren’t even sure what his name was.
The joust began just as you sat back down beside Aemond—but you found yourself barely paying attention to what was unfolding, and rather kept your eyes trained on your husband.
“Rather improper of him to ask for your favor,” he commented snidely, voice lowered so only you could hear. “You’re my wife.”
“Perhaps you should be down there, then,” you replied lightly, offering him a cruel smile. You knew well just how little Aemond cared for all the glamor the tourneys offered. “Show them who I belong to.”
Expression hardening to stone, he suddenly gripped your arm with iron-strength, hauling you up out of your seat, despite your half-hearted protests. You wondered if the Darklyn knight would search for you once the tourney was over. You found yourself unsurprised that you couldn’t care less about him.
Especially not with Aemond leading you down the halls of the Keep, twisting several sharp turns before shoving your chamber’s entrance open. Just as quickly as you were yanked inside, the wooden door slammed shut behind you, and you were promptly shoved up against it.
His lips were angry over yours, claiming you, biting you, devouring you completely. You fell slack in his arms, one of your hands resting over his chest, almost as if you were debating between pushing him away or pulling him closer. He swallowed the noises of contentment that slipped from your throat.
“You just couldn’t wait,” he snarled, shoving you against the door harder until he was pressed flush over your body. Jealous Aemond was certainly a sight to behold. “My greedy little wife.”
You preened at his words, arching your back, desperate to reconnect your lips to his. He didn’t put up a fight, allowing you to fight for dominance, claw at his neck and chest in desperation as you kissed him as if he were the very air you needed to breathe.
Wasting no time, he reached down to yank the bottom of your dress upwards—cursing under his breath at all the damned layers you were wearing—and hurriedly shoved away your shift so he could reach your pulsing cunt.
You were drenched. Warm and wet and fuck, he couldn’t wait a moment longer—
Sensing this, you made quick work of his trousers, yanking them downwards before moving up to pop off his tunic’s buttons. A startled, pleasured cry—verging on a hysterical sob—tore from your lungs and rattled across the chambers when he suddenly thrusted two long fingers into you, his thumb working quick circles over your sensitive clit. You’d already been denied an orgasm once, and you found a litany of breathless pleas erupting from your lips, as if it were just second nature.
“Please, Aemond, please—” You choked on whatever else you had to say, eyes rolling back as your orgasm slammed into you far too soon for your liking. Heavy and all-consuming.
But it wasn’t enough. You wanted more, more, you’d always want more of your husband.
“Aemond, please, I need you inside,” you croaked, letting out a sigh when he drew a few tender kisses to your forehead. A glimpse of the softer side of your husband, scarcely shown unless it was with you. You loved him like this, but you wanted—no, you needed—him to lose all abandon with you.
“If you won’t fuck me, I’ll ask the Darklyn knight,” you growled with a serrated tone.
Aemond drew away from you, violet eye ablaze. Was it fury or was it possessiveness written so plainly over his features? Perhaps both. “What did you say?” he whispered, a hand suddenly surging up to grip your jaw.
“I said,” you huffed, staring at him with a challenging quirk of your brows, “I’ll ask another man to fuck me. If my husband won’t do so, that is.”
Silence on Aemond was scarier than anything. You wished he would speak, or scream, or call you filthy names. But no, he… he was observing you. Calculating. Like a cat would a mouse.
Or a dragon would its kill.
With one fluid motion, he drew his length into his hand—long and hard and angrily weeping with beads of pearly precum. The other hand abruptly flipped you around with surprising strength, crowding you against the wall beside the door so your back faced him. You moaned out his name when he pushed your dress up over your hips and dragged his tip over your drenched core.
“Please,” you begged, bracing yourself against the wall and jutting your hips back. If you could hear yourself over the buzzing in your ears, you’d be absolutely mortified at how delirious you sounded.
In one quick motion, he sheathed himself into you. Your warm, pulsating cunt was gripping him like a vice, eliciting a shuddering groan from his lungs. You mirrored his reaction, squeezing your eyes shut and holding onto him for dear life as he began to pound into you with no restraint. The lewd noises ricocheting in the room made your cheeks heat up until your entire face felt like it had been set aflame. With each snap of his hips into yours, you found yourself crying his name like a mantra, his hands bruising over your waist, pulling you back into him.
You were blubbering incoherently, begging for more. You just about lost it when one of his hands disappeared from your waist—only to roll over your aching clit with quick circles. A sob broke past your lips and you clenched hard around his length, feeling every hot inch of him buried deep inside you. His pace staggered with the sudden shift and he groaned out a curse, followed by your name.
“Who did you want to fuck?” he bit out, slightly breathless, words dripping with venom. “What’s his name?”
“I—” You hiccupped a cry with a particularly loud thrust. “Oh, fuck, Aemond!”
“Right,” he hissed, bending forward to bite down on your strained neck. “I’m the only one who can fuck you like this. Not pretty boys in silly costumes—mmph—not daft knights who lose tourneys. Me.”
The last word was ground out when your cunt spasmed around his girth once more, and you wailed out his name as your orgasm rolled over you. It was a wonder nobody had barged in to see if there was someone being murdered.
“Perhaps I’d have to get you all round and swollen with my child. Show them who you belong to. Who fucked you this good. Would you like that, sweet wife?”
“Yes, yes, Aemond, I need—I need you to come inside. Please, I need you to stuff me full.”
You reached behind you to blindly grapple for his arm and he briefly shifted the angle and began pounding into you even harder. His cock hit your sweet spot just right, and you saw stars swimming over your vision.
A near animalistic noise tore through Aemond’s chest when you tightened around him one last time, your warm cunt fluttering around his cock. His rhythm faltered. What drove him over the edge was when he glanced down and saw the thick ring of your creamy arousal at the base of his cock. Gods, you were… beyond perfect.
With a staggered rasp of your name, he thrust into you thrice more before he spilled his seed deep in you, thick spurts of white coating your slick walls.
Heavy pants filled the room. You barely registered his lips kissing along your bare shoulder, where your dress had slipped in the midst of your heated frenzy.
Slow, he eased himself out of you. “You did so well for me,” he murmured against your skin, smoothing his hands over your waist. “Are you alright?”
“Mmh,” you hummed, because no words would come to you at the moment.
He laughed, a wonderfully rich sound, before gently urging you towards the bed.
“Get some rest, wife,” he told you, laying you onto the plush mattress and dipping down to kiss your forehead. He regarded you with raw adoration folded over his expression. Though, it was quick to melt into a thunderous one with his next sentence. “I have a certain knight to exchange words with.”
If you hadn’t been so high off your orgasms and exhausted with the new-found urge to sleep the whole night away, you would’ve realized that Aemond was likely going to commit manslaughter over something as trivial as a tourney favor. But you hadn’t thought about it much, not in your sex-addled haze, and promptly fell asleep with only the dream of silver-haired babes with wonderful purple eyes to accompany you.
#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond targaryen smut#aemond targaryen fanfiction#aemond fluff#aemond smut#aemond targaryen x you#hotd fanfiction#aemond targaryen fluff#house of the dragon fanfiction#hotd smut#hotd x reader
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ੈ✩ where the heart is (smau) ੈ✩
pairing : george russell x adopted! hamilton reader
summary: a move will test where the heart lies
tw : fluff
fc : jasmine tookes
a/n : thank you so much to @josephqunnies for suggesting this ! lysm 🫶🏻
·:。・゚゚・ ✩ ・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・ ・゚·:。・゚゚・ ✩ ・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・・゚·:。・゚゚・ ✩ ・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚
liked by lewishamilton, georgerussell, alexandramieux and 1,302,498 others
ynhamilton ending 24 with blings *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
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user1 ma’am just came to serve looks
user2 is everything ok with george? HE IS WEARING A SHIRT !?
user3 george literally said I ain’t leaving the hamiltons
lewishamilton mum said that you need to learn to smile 😃
ynhamilton you could never get a picture as perfect as mine 😗
user4 if they fight like this in the comments
user5 don’t even imagine real life
georgerussell stop buying ferrrari merch
ynhamilton my brother is in ferrari?
georgerussell your lover is still in mercedes ?
ynhamilton yeah yeah, our kids will support mercedes
alexandrasaintmieux ma’am, can you contact me to your stylist !?
ynhamilton you have my number bbg 😍
user6 the fashion genes do run in the family I guess
liked by lewishamilton, georgerussell, user1, user2 and 2,378,297 others
ynhamilton Wrong Direction ˘͈ᵕ˘͈
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landonorris album drop when ?
landonorris saving me money 💰
ynhamilton McLaren not paying you ?
oscarpiastri he probably spent it on his late night escapades
landonorris for god's sake, THIS IS THE MAIN ACCOUNT !?
maxverstappen1 waiting for my fifth
ynhamilton waiting for the eighth and first
georgerussell you remember me ?
ynhamilton I remember toto 🫶🏻
alexandrasaintmieux can’t wait to go explore Monaco !!
ynhamilton I have George’s and lewis’s cards ready
georgerussell I am going round on track and debt
francolapinto you should come to argentina!
ynhamilton are you inviting ?
francolapinto is it you are asking ?
georgerussell stop flirting with an old lady
ynhamilton glad to know that this OLD LADY still has her charms 😊
liked by georgerussell, landonorris, lewishamilton and 1,267,297 others
ynhamilton keeping up with the hamiltons and a russell
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lewishamilton what’s with your obsession with reality shows !?
ynhamilton just like your obsession with your clothes
lewishamilton for god’s sake, either stop posting me on your feed, or post a better picture
ynhamilton no, DEAR BROTHER
georgerussell another day of being the side chick
ynhamilton hey! at least you are in the show !?
charlesleclerc which streaming platform ?
ynhamilton f1tv 🫦
charlesleclerc I mean if you plan to seduce them and get it there …?
georgerussell I AM STILL ALIVE !
georgerussell NOT YET DEAD FROM MY CRASHES !
ynhamilton oh, don't need that when you have got a seven time works champion
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f1wags With the recent move of her brother to ferrari, will Y/N Hamilton and George Russell’s relationship be affected ?
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user1 that’s a low blow man
user2 tbh, I don’t think so, she is Lewis’s adopted sibling, so I doubt she will support him that much
user3 seriously !? adopted ?
user4 adopted or not, they are still siblings
user5 I don’t think we should speculate someone’s relationship just based on a move
user6 not like he is moving away from the paddock!
user7 but y/n won’t be around both at the same time ?
user8 this is going to be messy
user9 I hope she dates Charles
user10 bruh, what about Alex ?
liked by lewishamilton, charlesleclerc, maxverstappen1 and 2,376,378 others
ynhamilton guess the heart stays with Mercedes
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lewishamilton guess I need to see your face every day
charlesleclerc George, please don't make your wedding photos include that pose of yours
georgerussell its not that bad now
landinorris FREE BOOZE
ynhamilton you guys are forgetting to congratulate me ..?
alexandrasaintmieux OMGGGG, WEDDING IN THE HOUSE 🤭
maxverstappen1 congrats y/n and George !!
liked by ynhamilton, georgerussell, landonorris and 4,287,270 others
lewishamilton You were just 2 when you came waddling in our house, I kept on asking mum if she really had to get you home. I would always tease you that they picked you up from the dustbin and I would laugh seeing you cry but thank you for the number of scars on my knees and elbows, dipping my face in jam and drawing doodles on my helmets. Thank you for always putting my needs above yours, sacrificing your school trips and prom dresses just so dad could afford my karting. I am grateful that you have found a soulmate in a man like George, who I know will go poles to keep you happy. I am proud of you and will always love you, my little sister from the dustbin. ❤️
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#formula 1#f1#formula 1 smau#f1 smau#formula 1 social media au#f1 social media au#social media au imagine#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 headcanon#formula 1 drabble#formula 1 one shot#formula 1 fluff#formula 1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 headcanon#f1 drabble#f1 one shot#f1 fluff#f1 x reader#george russell#george russell imagine#george russell drabble#george russell headcanon#george russell one shot#george russell fluff#george russell smau#george russell x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#f1 texts
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Asteroid Sirene (1009)
so now that shes gone you can embrace whats to come and die with a smile…
The Siren’s Face
In the first house, Sirene gives you a magnetic presence. Your very being becomes a song, calling others to you with an irresistible charm. People are drawn to you, captivated by your beauty and mystery. They want to be close, but you remain just out of reach, like the sea's horizon.
The Song of Desire
In the second house, Sirene's power weaves into what you own and value.You're drawn to beauty and luxury, and others are drawn to you because of your refined taste. You have a way of making people crave what you have, as though your possessions and sense of worth are enchanted by a siren's song.
The Seductive Whisper
With Sirene in the third house, your words have a magical pull. You speak, and people listen, hypnotized by the way you turn ordinary conversations into something almost poetic. There’s something in your voice, something mysterious, that keeps people coming back for more, even if they don’t understand why.
The Lure of Home
In the fourth house, Sirene sings through your home and roots. Your family life holds a deep, secret charm, like an old story whispered over and over. People feel comforted and enchanted in your presence, as though you carry with you the echo of a forgotten dream, a place they long to return to but can’t quite remember.
The Seduction of Joy
In the fifth house, your creativity and joy have a captivating glow. Every time you create something, be it art, romance, or laughter, it draws people in like a siren’s call. Your playful spirit is irresistible, making you the center of attention. Love and pleasure surround you like waves, leaving others enchanted in your wake.
The Enchantment of Work
In the sixth house, Sirene works her magic through your daily tasks. You bring a special allure even to the simplest routines, making them seem almost magical. People are drawn to how you handle things with such grace. But be careful—this placement can make you give too much of yourself, as if you’re constantly pouring your energy into the service of others, always leaving them wanting more.
The Siren’s Reflection
In the seventh house, your relationships are drenched in Sirene’s charm. Partners are mesmerized by your mysterious allure. They see in you something almost otherworldly, and though they try to hold onto you, you remain elusive, a dream they can never fully grasp. Love becomes a delicate dance of desire, with you always just out of reach, tempting them to come closer.
The Deep Seduction
In the eighth house, Sirene pulls you into life’s hidden depths—sex, secrets, and transformation. There’s a dark, alluring energy around you that others feel drawn to but may not fully understand. You captivate with your power to explore what others fear. Like the deep ocean, you are full of hidden treasures and mysteries, luring others to dive deeper, even if it terrifies them.
The Call of the Horizon
In the ninth house, Sirene calls you to explore distant places and ideas. Your curiosity about the world is like a siren’s song, pulling you toward the unknown. Others see in you a seeker, someone chasing dreams and wisdom far beyond the everyday. Your passion for adventure and truth enchants those who long for a life of freedom and exploration.
The Allure of Success
With Sirene in the tenth house, your career and reputation carry an undeniable allure. You become a figure that others admire from afar, like a lighthouse guiding ships in the night. Your ambitions have a seductive pull, and people are drawn to your vision of success. But, just like the sea, your achievements always seem to hold a little more mystery than meets the eye.
The Siren of Dreams
In the eleventh house, Sirene’s charm fills your friendships and dreams for the future. You stand out in social groups as someone with a captivating vision of a better world. People are drawn to your ideals, sensing that you hold the key to something extraordinary. Yet, your dreams are always just out of reach, as elusive and beautiful as a distant star.
The Ocean of Mysteries
In the twelfth house, Sirene whispers in your soul, pulling you toward the unknown. You are a dreamer, constantly moving between the world of reality and the realm of mystery. People are drawn to your deep, spiritual energy, sensing that you know secrets they’ve long forgotten. You are like the ocean itself—endless, deep, and always calling them to dive in, even if they don’t know where it will take them.
#astrology#astrology notes#asteroid observations#asteroid sirene#beauty astrology#beauty asteroids#astrology observations#random astro observations#random astrology observations
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Batkids Resolutions
Dick: So does anyone have any New Years resolutions?
Tim: I'm gonna kick caffeine
Steph: You say that every year
Tim: I mean it this time! You know what they say, "eighth time's the charm", or something like that
Damian: Drake's pathetic plight against espresso aside, Duke and I are joining our school's tutoring program
Steph: I'm starting a self defense class
Cass: And I'm helping
Dick: What about you, Jay?
Jason, standing in front of a giant white board detailing his newest yearly plan to kill the Joker: Actually, now that you mention it, I've been meaning to read this new book--
#dc comics#batfam#batman#batkids#dick grayson#jason todd#tim drake#damian wayne#cassandra cain#stephanie brown#duke thomas#incorrect quotes
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𝐑𝐚𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬
*Pics not mine credits to the owner*
• Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Pregnant!Reader.
• Requested: no.
• Summary: being pregnant isn’t the easiest thing to go through but you always want to be there and support your fiancée during his races no matter what. Charles, however, being his overprotective self can’t help but constantly worry about you.
• Warnings: pregnancy as you might see 😂 and I don’t think anything else, just fluff.
• Word count: 2405.
• A/N: what can I say? I’m such a sucker for worried!dad fics they’re actually my kryptonite so here it is 😭 it didn’t turn out exactly how I wanted but I hope you’ll like this, please let me know what you think and comment, reblog and like if you want and I apologize for any mistake ❤️ I love you all and thank you for you constant support 💕
Being a pregnant woman in the middle of summer heat was far worse than you would’ve ever expected.
As you made your way towards the paddock you tried to ignore the paparazzi who kept trying to get your attention, your mind focused on just trying to stay upright and not faint in the middle of the crowd as your hand kept resting on your belly.
You literally felt like a hot air balloon ready to explode and you had just entered your eighth month. “Bébé!” Charles’ voice caught your attention and a smile appeared on your lips as you saw him run towards you, leaving the engineers he was talking to standing there with a confused look on their faces as soon as he saw you.
He immediately hugged you, taking meticulous care not to press his body against your belly and then wrapping his arm around your waist as he led you away from the crowd towards the garage. Before you could say anything he got you a bottle of water, ordering you without mincing words to drink it.
“Are you okay? You needed to rest chérie, it’s too hot in here and the heat isn’t good for you and the baby,” he began to ramble, one hand caressing your bump.
“Babe I’m fine, I know the heat is unbearable but I can manage to stay here, I want to be with you,” you replied after drinking the water. You placed a hand on his face, stroking his skin and seeing his features visibly relax.
He took the half-drunk bottle from your hands, looking at you intently and scanning your face as if he was looking for some sign of hesitation. “I know baby, you’re both always my lucky charms but I’d rather you not take any risks.”
You fanned yourself with the paper you held between your fingers, feeling your forehead and the rest of your body sweat. “Oh come on Charles what risks are you talking about? I’m surrounded by people if anything happens…” You burst out laughing at the way his face contorted when you said those last words. “Darling, just stay calm okay? The baby and I are both fine. Now just focus on the race, go do your job and kick everyone’s ass.”
Charles cupped his hands over your face, pulling you closer to him and pressing his lips to yours in a sweet kiss. “If anything happens and I mean anything you call me, are we understood? Even if you need me to tie your shoes,” he had whispered, looking intently into your eyes making sure to let you know he wasn’t joking at all.
“Good thing I’m wearing sandals then.”
“Chérie…” .
You rolled your eyes. “Everything will be fine I promise and I’ll call you if I need anything.”
“That’s more like it.” He gave you another kiss. “I want you to be safe. I’ll go now. I love you so much baby.”
“I love you so much more.”
Charles pulled away from you, only to bend down on his knees and rest his hands on your bump before leaving a kiss on it. “And you try to be a good boy and let mommy rest okay? See you later little one, dad loves you.”
Your heart exploded with joy and maybe it was the hormones, but you found yourself putting a hand in front of your mouth to keep yourself from crying there in front of everyone.
You saw Charles walk away to go back to making the final preparations for the race, but not before he turned one last time to look at you and blow you a kiss.
God I love this man.
Charles had always been very protective of you, from the first moments you got together, always being careful to leave you in safe places when you came to the paddock, always shielding you with his body when you were in the middle of a crowd, but ever since you got pregnant his protective instinct went to the roof.
You didn’t complain, even though it could be intense and a little frustrating at times, you loved how he cared so much about you and your baby and you wouldn’t change it for the world. You loved knowing that no matter what he’d always be there to help you and do anything in his power to make you feel better.
Of course, there was no shortage of small arguments when even getting up to go to the bathroom made him alert and fill you with questions about whether you were okay or not.
But that was another story.
Charles was preparing for the race but he couldn’t help but always glance in your direction, reassuring himself when he saw you sitting and engaging conversation with someone.
“Make sure my fiancée is okay and she has everything she needs,” Charles had ordered even though by now everyone knew these words by heart since he’d say them every time you were there.
In the next hour you tried to keep a neutral expression and pretend everything was fine but the heat was really unbearable and even sitting was becoming painful.
The back pain was killing you, as well as tiredness since the previous night you could barely sleep.
You needed some air, suddenly feeling your head spinning, a wave of atrocious heat passing through your body but even getting up from a damned chair was hard. With quite a few difficulties you managed to do it but a particularly intense dizziness forced you to lean against the wall, your vision darkened and nausea gripping your stomach.
“Y/n hey! You okay?” One of the technicians who was passing by asked you, immediately rushing to you. He took your hand, helping hold you up.
You nodded. “I’m fine… I just need some air.”
“Can you walk?”.
You felt too weak and you knew if you tried you’d just faint so you shook your head.
“Okay, take a few deep breaths, you’ll be fine. Do you want me to call for Charles?”.
“No, no, he’d worry to death and the race is about to start, I don’t want him to lose focus.”
“Y/n he’ll have my head on a plate if I don’t tell him.”
“Please… I just need to relax a bit… I’ll be fine soon. I’m just pregnant those things happen unfortunately.”
“Okay, okay, let’s go in the break room there’s a little bed there. Take few steps at the time.”
Charles meanwhile was finishing putting on his racing suit, talking about the latest strategies and praying that some kind of disaster wouldn’t happen although he wouldn’t be surprised if a wheel flew off or the engine even exploded.
His mind couldn’t help but wander to you too, worried about what you were doing since with the coming and going of people he had lost sight of you.
“I’m going to quickly look for Y/n,” Charles announced, no longer able to stay calm without hearing from you.
“Leclerc we’re about to start, for god’s sake!”.
“I’ll be back in a minute I promise!” He exclaimed before running away without even waiting for the answer.
He made his way among the technicians, the various engineers and analysts scanning the various faces and noticing none of them were you. Fear took over him as he noticed you were no longer sitting where he had left you.
His mind started imagining the worst possible scenarios while telling himself to stay calm, since you probably just went to the bathroom or something. However, when he collided with one of the technicians, his worst fears came true.
“Charles finally!”.
But Charles interrupted him, not wanting to know anything that didn’t concern you and his baby. “Where is Y/n? Did you see her?”.
“That’s why I was looking for you. She’s in the break room…-”
Charles’s eyes widened so much they almost popped out of their sockets and before even letting him finish the sentence he immediately run towards the break room. His heart was pounding in his chest, worse than at the start of any race.
“Why the fuck didn’t anyone call me?!”.
When he opened the door, his worried eyes immediately fixed on you, almost going having a heart attack when he saw the doctor next to you intent on taking your blood pressure.
“Y/n baby! Oh God what happened? Are you okay? Is she okay doctor?” Charles rushed over to you, sitting next to you and immediately taking your free hand in his. He alternated his gaze between you and the doctor and only a second passed before he responded even if it seemed to last an eternity.
You widened your eyes, sending a murderous look at the technician who was helping you just before. He shrugged his shoulders, an apologetic look on his face before he walked away.
“Just a slight drop of her blood pressure due to the heat, I advise you to go home to rest and keep yourself hydrated. This heat is not good.”
“Thank you Doctor.” “Thank you.” You and Charles answered at the same time and the doctor nodded at you before packing up his bag and walking out of the room, leaving you and Charles alone.
“Baby what the fuck? Why didn’t you call me?!” Charles snapped. “What happened?”.
“I’m sorry love, I didn’t want to worry you. I’m fine I promise,” you tried to reassure him even if at that moment nothing seemed to be able to calm him down. “I just felt a little dizzy.”
“You gave me a heart attack, fuck. How are you feeling now? The baby?”. He placed a hand on your belly and caressed it, breathing a sigh of relief when he felt his baby kick after a couple of moments.
“Just tired and our baby is fine. But Charles the race is about to start and you shouldn’t be here...”
“I don’t give a fuck about the race, I just want to make sure you’re okay,” he replied. “Do you need to go to the hospital? We can go right now if...-”
You placed both hands on his flushed, hot face, stopping his flow of words as you drew imaginary circles on his skin to calm him. “I’m fine baby, now that I’ve gotten some fresh air I feel better.”
“I can’t leave you here, what if you feel sick again? What if you need something?” He spluttered, his worried eyes still looking at you.
“Nothing will happen love.”
He sighed before wrapping his arms around you though and pulling you into a hug, which you immediately returned. He deeply breathed in the scent of your skin, planting kisses on you cheek meanwhile holding you so tightly as if he was afraid you’d fly away.
When he slightly pulled away, he simulated the gesture you had made not long ago and placed his hands on your cheeks, looking at you with so much love while caressing your skin. “I would die if anything happens to either of you, you know that right? I would never forgive myself if you needed me and I wasn’t here to help you.”
You smiled warmly, leaning into his touch. “I know and we’re both so lucky to have you baby but you have to go now. I promise you’ll find me here when the race ends, but I need you to go, I wouldn’t forgive myself if you stayed here because of me. This is your job, what will you do when the baby is born? You’ll just retire?”.
“Well…”
“Charles Leclerc,” you interrupted in an authoritative tone. “Get your cute ass up and go. I’ll. Be. Fine. Now go baby, you have a race to win.”
Charles remained silent, watching you conflicted about what to do. You softly kissed him. “It’s okay love, go.”
He finally nodded feebly even though he wasn’t remotely convinced of this choice. He didn’t feel like leaving but you were right, he had a job to do.
“Come on, I’ll help you lie down,” he then said after standing up, giving you space and helping you lie down on the bed. He knelt next to you, placing a hand on your hair and caressing you so gently it made your heart explode.
“If you need me…” he whispered.
“…I’ll call you. I know darling,” you continued and then smiled. “I love you so much.”
He gave you a breath-taking smile before leaning towards you and placing a kiss on your forehead. “I love you much more chérie, you’re… You both are the best gift that life has ever given me I hope you’ll never forget it.”
“Never. Now go kick everyone's ass predestinato.”
Against all his expectations, the race ended in the best possible way, not without some hitches which, however, Charles managed to overcome in the best possible way.
In the garage everyone welcomed him with whistles, shouts of joy and cheers, still teasing him about his radio messages.
“How is Y/n? Has anyone gone to check on her?” He had asked Charles in the middle of the race.
“Focus on the race Leclerc.”
“I can’t if I don’t know if she’s okay.” He retorted in frustration as at that exact moment he took a turn. “Someone fucking answer me! This is my fiancée and my son we’re talking about mon dieu!” He continued when he didn’t get a response right away – and by right away he meant after two seconds – his accent particularly pronounced when he was angry.
“She’s fine Charles, she’s resting. Now focus.”
“I swear if you’re telling me this just to keep me quiet I’ll burn this place down.”
“Check yourself.” There was a moment’s pause in which Charles was left perplexed. “Baby!” He heard your voice in his earphones, his heart almost explodIng with joy. God only knew how much he needed to hear you in that moment. “You’re doing great, I’m so proud of you!”
“Cherie! Are you okay? Did you get some rest?”.
He heard you giggle. “Yes. I’m fine. I couldn’t sleep since I wanted to watch you. But now focus we’ll talk later! I love you.”
“I love you too bébé.”
The race had ended and he won. Charles Leclerc won the Grand Prix but he didn’t care because the best prize he could ever receive was in front of him celebrating with him and cheering him on while tightly hugging him.
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in beomgyu's room 🧸
now playing 𝄞₊⊹ bad - wave to earth & best friend - laufey
⋆ pairing: bestfriend!beomgyu x f!reader
⋆ summary: a reel of your most precious memories in beomgyu’s room(s), and the one time it’s also yours.
⋆ genre/themes/warnings: fluff, childhood friends, best friends to lovers, non-idol au, mention of mommy kink (sorry they have weird inside jokes)
⋆ word count: 3.6k
a/n: this isnt proofread n i dont think its my best writing, i wanted to focus on dialogue a lot more :0 but i just wanted to put out a lil something for gyu's bday <3 our talented pretty boy 🥹 anyways, i hope u enjoy reading this!
2009
beomgyu’s room at eight years old is directly opposite from your window. you recently watched taylor swift’s you belong with me music video, and your unassuming neighbor who just recently moved in has become the center of the romantic production running in your little mind.
when his family invites you over for dinner, you’re giddy to put a name to the pretty boy that’s been in your sights; only ever seeing him with a guitar strapped to his back when he walks by your house as you sit on the porch with a book.
“hi,” he’s the one opening the door, greeting you enthusiastically. you assumed he would have been a shy boy, especially with the way he walked with his head down and never without an mp3 player and wired earphones. that was just one of the many surprises beomgyu had in store for you and your serendipitous friendship.
beomgyu smiles politely at your parents before pulling the door back and letting you all inside. your mother’s ushering you to the boy, hurriedly greeting his parents and leaving you in beomgyu’s care.
you turn to him, shy and unsure of what to do, but beomgyu’s there to pull you out of your daydreams. he slightly tugs the sleeve of your shirt, chin tilted to the direction of the stairs. “wanna play mario kart in my room?”
you’re scanning the room to look for your parents, silently asking permission with your eyes when you catch your dad looking back at you. when he nods, you’re quick to relay it to beomgyu, who returns the biggest smile you’ve seen. boys are usually rough around the edges, either boisterous or freakishly hyper-aware of cooties, but beomgyu is different. he’s just loud enough to have you laughing until your tummy hurts, but he’s also a good listener.
your feet dangle from the height of his bed while he sets up his wii. it only takes a few minutes of tinkering and confused grumbles before beomgyu joins you, sitting close and handing over the controller.
“i’ve never played this game before!” your voice chimes with the game’s background music, fiddling with the buttons on your controller and accidentally pressing something that makes beomgyu laugh.
“that’s okay,” he navigates through the buttons on the screen to take you back to the starting screen. “i’ll go easy on you.”
you may have gotten beomgyu all wrong, because as you inch closer to stealing his first place spot on your eighth round of playing, he throws a green shell at you, putting you off-course.
“that’s so not fair, beomgyu!” you grumble frustratedly, shoulders slumped. beomgyu has a mischievous smile on his face; a different charm to the friendly one you encountered at his doorway, or the re-assuring one when he asked to play mario kart.
“i didn’t even know you could do that.” you whine, twisting your body left and right as if it would take away from your loss.
beomgyu’s mouth opens, but instead of hearing his squeaky voice, you both hear your mom’s.
“yn, time to go home!”
you both tear your eyes away from the doorframe to look at one another.
“teach me next time?” you plead, eyes shiny and hopeful that you’ve got a new friend to play with. someone who would always be next to you.
beomgyu feels similarly. he lets it show by nodding enthusiastically, his rectangular glasses pressed onto his rising cheeks, swelling from all the smiling he’s done tonight.
2017
“choi beomgyu!” you yell from the bottom of the staircase, leaning on the creaky railing despite beomgyu’s constant warnings of “you’re gonna fall off one day, y’know.”
you’re both sixteen years old, and tonight is prom. unlike the books you read, you were not serenaded by the most beautiful (subjective) boy in school; but like the disney movies, you’re at your best friend’s house and going as each other’s dates.
the idea was initially disgusting to both you and beomgyu, suggested by menacingly blunt choi soobin during one of your escapades to the internet cafe. when prom started to come closer and closer, you and beomgyu would briefly text about it in jokes. the final straw was probably the fact that soobin actually got a date before either of you. so, with only three days to prom and a whole lot of spite, you and beomgyu hunted down matching corsages and sealed the deal.
you glance at the clock on the wall, ticking seven. sick of waiting on your bare feet, you lift the trailing end of your dress and make your way up to beomgyu’s room.
you don’t bother to knock, having seen the worst of beomgyu and his room already. the sight that greets you is anything but what you expect.
you expected heaps of clothes on the floor from his panicked frenzy of not knowing what to put on under his blazer; maybe some mismatched socks, and shoes tossed to every corner out of indecision.
instead, you see beomgyu clad in a neat, black suit, with a navy blue dress shirt. his black hair, usually falling over his eyelashes, is tucked away to show off the face that many come to your classroom to see. just like how he was at eight, you know beomgyu is different; he’s delicate, never gruff, even when he picks you up from your doorstep with bedhead.
beomgyu has always been pretty, but tonight, he’s charming. he’s handsome. just thinking it makes you want to regurgitate your words and flush them down the toilet. it brings upon this weird pit in your stomach that was never there when you were wiping your cheeto-dust fingers on beomgyu’s shirt as some petty form of teasing. that weird feeling you only got when someone cute walked your way, or someone flustered you to the point of developing a crush. you hope it’s nothing too serious.
“woah!”
“what.” beomgyu deadpans, unamused by your exaggerated gasp. in reality, the pink on his cheeks already has you guessing that he’s shy. your beomgyu has always been one for compliments and sweet gestures, recalling how his eyes brightened every time your smaller hands patted his head when you were younger.
“no need to get sassy, jeez,” you roll your eyes playfully, the smile on your face never leaving. “you look good. handsome.”
“thanks,” he smiles sheepishly. it’s silent for a bit, until beomgyu says, “keep ‘em coming…”
“dipshit!” you smack his forearm. “you’ll hear more from everyone tonight, i bet.”
“i guess so,” he shrugs, looking at himself on the full-length mirror, trying to fold his necktie like the way his dad taught him. you move closer, your dress trailing behind you when you drop the sides in favor of helping beomgyu out with his tie. you’re so close; the kind of close you and beomgyu haven’t been ever before, except when you were ten and you fell off your bike, crashing onto him.
you’re in front of him now, looping the fabric and not really looking at him. you can’t tell that he’s staring down at your concentrated face, smiling softly at how your tongue peeks out of your mouth in concentration.
he hasn’t gotten the chance to compliment you back, but he’s noticed how beautiful you looked the minute you stepped into his room. his thoughts only get confirmed further now that you’re just a few breaths apart; your lip gloss has a sheen that’s tempting to swipe off with his own lips, and your eyelashes flutter in the way that beomgyu pictures in a few years time, where you’re waking up next to him every morning.
“not from anyone that matters though.”
your fingers stop working, peering up at your best friend. you don’t really know what to make of how his eyes glisten; how they look fondly at you, so you revert to the only thing you and beomgyu know will fix anything — fooling around, saying something stupid.
“are you saying if soobin complimented you, you wouldn’t give a fuck?”
“you make it sound like i’m in love with him.” you shrug, lips pursed as you continue the final touches of his tie. he bumps his forehead onto yours, making you curse. “what? bros can seek validation from one another!”
“so can i seek it from you, bro?”
you shake your head, amused by his unfamiliar use of the nickname. “whatever. are you done now?”
“no.” you groan. beomgyu pulls away from you first, going to his bedside drawer and fishing out a box.
he come back to your side, this time, with the corsage you both overpaid for. beomgyu wraps it around your wrist and prompts you to turn your hand over, tying it up for you. you watch him intently.
unconsciously, your hands extend to caress his head, gently patting his styled hair. the moment your fingers graze his scalp, he freezes up for a few seconds before resuming, trying to ignore the fluttering feeling in his chest.
“i forgot to say earlier,” beomgyu returns to his full height, but his hand is still holding yours. he squeezes three times with his dimples peeking out as he smiles, a semblance of a confession that you fail to pick up on. “you look beautiful tonight, too.”
2021
it’s nearly midnight when you and beomgyu decide that the best activity to do when both of you are jobless on a friday night (saturday morning now) is to dye each other’s hair.
you left an hour ago for a random supermarket run, and you return with a bottle of bleach, developer and a bunch of dyes that were on sale. possibly also a whole new stock of instant ramen. tonight was one of the nights you’re relieved your best friend has a car.
you’re both twenty now, in college and far away from home for a while. still, home doesn’t feel too far away when beomgyu’s still waiting for you outside the girls’ dorm building with disheveled hair. from your freshman year to now, beomgyu’s still been the same beomgyu that you love. you can admit that to yourself now, finally catching the culprit of that odd feeling in your stomach from prom night. though you’re unsure when you can gather the courage to tell him all that.
you’re pushing the door open to beomgyu’s dorm room, seeing his roommate taehyun slipping his shoes on with a backpack.
“are you running away?” you question, half-joking. “beomgyu can’t be that bad of a roommate. he’s like a pet goldfish sometimes.”
beomgyu’s shutting the door behind you when he walks into your odd conversation with taehyun. “that’s the meanest thing you’ve ever said about me.”
“goldfish are so cute though!” you reason with him, your tone higher in pitch as your silly charade continues. taehyun’s joining along too, laughing at the banter between you and beomgyu. “did you know the guy who created goldfish crackers made them because his wife was a pisces?”
“i’m a pisces,” beomgyu proudly states, chest puffed out with the bags of your pointless mission weighing down his shoulders. “would you make me a fish-inspired snack, yn? answer carefully, our relationship depends on it.”
you try to ignore the fact that he says relationship, not friendship. details, details. but beomgyu’s all about details. he didn’t say anything for just no reason, so you can’t help but let the thought fester. for now, you keep up with the jokes.
“you don’t even like seafood, gyu.”
“okay kids,” taehyun interrupts, heading towards the door. “i’m going to the gym. don’t burn the place up, please…”
“i think i’m gonna burn something else.” you snark, looking up at beomgyu’s perfectly smooth hair. he catches your stare and consciously guards his head.
taehyun leaves in the next few minutes, and it’s just you and beomgyu again.
beomgyu’s eyebrows wiggle comically, grabbing your shoulders and pushing you to the bathroom. “w-wait, wait!”
“what? backing out?” he challenges you, shaking you by the shoulders. “yn, you can’t!” his whining is convincing, but mostly because beomgyu has this pout that he doesn’t know you succumb to every single time he pulls it out — which is nearly everyday.
“n-no..! just..”
beomgyu’s face softens. he takes your face between his right hand, squishing your cheeks repeatedly. he huffs mockingly, “fine, you can do mine first.”
in the next hour, beomgyu’s desk chair is situated between the bathroom door and the carpeted floor of the bedroom, holding it open to let the stench of the bleach disperse. you’re sitting on said chair with a towel on your lap, while beomgyu sits on the bathroom floor, legs folded to his chest. his back is leaning against the middle of the chair, but he’s essentially sitting between your legs as you clumsily paint bleach over random sections of his hair.
“sorry if this turns to shit, beoms.” you snicker, layering more product on the strand between your fingers. you’re startled by beomgyu’s movements, his head tilting upwards slightly to look at you before looking back down. “you owe me free food for the rest of our lives if i end up looking like a dalmatian.”
“that’s fine,” you giggle, tapping his shoulder to motion for him to turn around and face you, trying to get the sections with his bangs. “at least i know we’ll be best friends forever.”
beomgyu fights the urge to say something stupid; something that might end the nights of you sleeping over and snuggling close to his chest — the things that pop up in his head range from “you’re so cute, i wanna kiss you.” to “i think i’ve been in love with you for years, so yeah, anyway.”
he still says something rather silly, but he thinks it’s just slightly less off-putting than telling your best friend who you grew up with that you’re in love with her.
“technically, you’d be my sugar mommy.”
you raise a brow, “outing your mommy kink?”
“yes, and?”
fits of laughter fill the air, you have to place the brush back on the sink in case you smack beomgyu’s face from how you throw your whole body around when you laugh. he’s just the same, nearly snorting when he sees how red your face has become.
at some point, you’re still trying to recover from giggling so hard, taking the brush back into your hands and picking out sections of beomgyu’s bangs. he chooses to perch his chin on one of your thighs with his head tilted up, as if admiring you deeply from the ground. beomgyu can ignore the prickly sensation settling on his scalp and the cold tiles of his bathroom floor freezing his butt off if he can see you from this view more often. it reminds him of when you used to let him rest his head on your lap that one time your families went on a road trip, and you both were stuck in the back. or the other times in his childhood bedroom where he’d fall asleep and wake up with your fingers tangled in his hair, head over a pillow on your lap.
beomgyu thinks he fell for you then, that he’d decided that he’d kneel on the ground forever if you asked him to. he thinks he’d probably do much worse if the requests were coming from your pretty lips.
you stop painting over his hair, signaling that beomgyu’s done. you think beomgyu’s going to get up from the floor, his legs crossed and obviously sleeping from how long you’ve had him sitting down there, but he’s still in-between your legs that it stops you from moving too. you’re about to joke around and tell him to get up, but you finally catch onto the fact that he’s looking up at you like he’s stargazing, or watching the prettiest sunset in the summer.
“gyu, what’s up?”
it takes a while for him to respond. beomgyu feels his mind drifting to places he doesn’t know he’s allowed to be in; thinking about how he’s thought of waking up next to you since he was sixteen, and it might have sounded like trying to snatch the sun from the sky back then, but he feels an inkling that it’s not too impossible right now, at twenty, in his room and at your disposal.
“do you remember when we went to prom together?”
you snort, reminded of your trembling hands when your parents asked you and beomgyu to take pictures and pose together, feeling his hand on your waist. “yeah, we looked pretty good.”
“yeah,” beomgyu draws circles and random patterns on your clothed thighs. “we did look pretty good together.”
“what?”
“what?”
“what did you say, gyu?” your voice comes out in a whisper, even when you try to be firm and persistent.
“you heard me,” he mumbles, finally looking away from you with the pink dusting his cheeks.
“no, i think i have to hear it again.” you tease, flicking his forehead to turn his attention back on you. “come on, say it.”
beomgyu bounces back, eyes trained on you as his lips move faster than any other time you’ve listened to him babble. he’s never even spoken this fast when he’s raging on his matches with soobin.
“jeez, yn, you wanna hear me say i’m in love with my best friend who i have also imagined living together with for the rest of my life?”
he blinks, realizing what he just said. “well… i mean, you got it.”
you press your lips together, trying to hold in the laugh that was threatening to burst out on beomgyu’s deer-in-the-headlights face. you’d feel terrible if you ruined this moment for both of you, so you try and keep it to giggles and a pleased grin.
“you sure you wanna live with me for the rest of your life, beomie?” you tease, bending down and bringing your face close to his. you enjoy the feeling of making beomgyu shy, and you know his guilty pleasure is when you’re rendered flustered and defensive.
“that’s all you got from what i said?” he pouts.
“aw, baby,” cooing at him. if his hair wasn’t slicked with bleach, you would have fluffed it and patted it the way he always liked. “d’you wanna start apartment hunting and writing down our kids’ names?”
he blinks up at you, briefly taking his phone out of his pocket and turning it over to show his notes app. “yeah, go ahead.”
“beomgyu.” you stare at him, slightly bewildered and freaked out, but also endeared.
“i’m just joking!” he puts his hands up defensively.
he taps your thigh again once his arms let up. “...you still haven’t said anything.”
“if it wasn’t obvious enough, choi beomgyu,” you start, pointing an accusatory finger at him. “i’m also in love with you. and i would love to be by your side forever.”
2024
it’s almost been three years since the night beomgyu and you confessed to each other.
everything seems to come full-circle, because you’re twenty three and sitting on beomgyu’s lap while playing mario kart. you have vivid memories of being eight years old and telling beomgyu off for not going easy on a first-timer, but you’ve had years and years of payback for that moment by now.
beomgyu doesn’t need to go easy on you anymore, occasionally yelling in your ear when you sabotage him, only to trail kisses from your earlobe to your neck as an apology.
as you finish up your last game as promised, you turn your head and press a chaste kiss on beomgyu’s cheek. sometimes, you still can’t believe your best friend has graduated from being just that, to being your boyfriend. beomgyu chases after your face as soon as you detach from him, his lips quickly pecking yours.
it took a while until you and beomgyu could live together, only finding a place you could both attest to earlier this year. but since then, you’ve made plenty of memories in every nook and cranny.
you keep old habits like mario kart, and beomgyu purposely makes mistakes with his necktie just so you can tug on it, kiss him and fix it instead. but your life with beomgyu has new bits and pieces that flourished since sharing your love for one another. your shared baths that consist of gossip that beomgyu is overly enthusiastic of; taking selfies every night when you put on sheet masks for each other; and instead of picking you up with bedhead, you have the privilege of seeing beomgyu in a dress shirt with his sleeves rolled up, picking you up from work and waiting for you to fill the passenger seat of his car.
it makes you think not only about all the lovely moments you’ve had with beomgyu, but the ugly parts that only you both know of each other.
“i really hope this is a forever thing, gyu.” you blurt out.
“playing mario kart with me?” beomgyu knows what you mean; he can tell you’re floating in your head when you ask him. still, he lightens the mood.
“yeah,” you chuckle. you suppose he isn’t wrong, you wouldn’t mind this at all.
“baby,” he tucks a hair behind your ear. “look at me, hm?”
“i love you today,” beomgyu kisses your lips, moves to either side of your cheeks. “i love you tomorrow,” now he’s pressing one on your nose. “the day after,” the last one on your forehead. “until we’re old and wrinkly, i love you.”
your smile in the midst of all his kisses is as wide as it was when you first met beomgyu. you cradle his face, rubbing your thumb over his cheekbones then bumping your noses together briefly. it makes beomgyu laugh, the sound still as pretty as when he stumbled over his words trying to confess to you. “there’s no one else i would have fallen in love with other than you, gyu,”
“my best friend in the world.”
#from.313#313.softhours#txt beomgyu x reader#choi beomgyu x reader#beomgyu x reader#beomgyu scenarios#beomgyu imagines#beomgyu fluff#beomgyu soft hours#beomgyu soft thoughts#txt soft thoughts#txt soft hours#txt scenarios#txt fluff#txt x reader#313.beomgyu
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When Mike Wheeler, red faced and still faintly tear stained, asks him how he knew he liked both Steve doesn’t know how to tell him it was his sister.
Before Nancy Wheeler it had only been boys. Before Nancy Wheeler Steve had been sure he was gay and knew well enough to keep it to himself; dating around enough to earn himself a protective reputation. Before Nancy Wheeler there’d been Marcus Summers, from the baseball team, during freshman year. Steve had gone to every game, and had been forced to make up excuses about schoolwork and his other commitments when asked why he hadn’t tried out for himself. Before Nancy Wheeler there’d been Tommy Hagan. The summer between seventh and eighth grade had been very kind to Tommy, he was sunkissed and boy next door sweet, Steve had wanted to hold his hand and count the freckles across the bridge of his nose.
Before Nancy Wheeler there’d been his first love, a boy who only visited one summer, the year Steve turned ten. His name had changed every time they hung out but he’d favored E’s. Eli, Emmett, Elliott, Eric, Excalibur, Excelsior, and once for about an hour Wayne. His hair brushed his chin in pretty brown curls and his big brown eyes were always bright with excitement. He always got storm off mad when any of the other boys they’d played with that summer said he was acting like a girl, E would run off to the woods and Steve would always follow. E always came up with the best games anyway, he didn’t like playing soccer or HORSE or anything else with rules that couldn’t be bent; he preferred imagination games where they were knights or wizards. He didn’t laugh when Steve said he always liked playing house, but never wanted to be the dad because why would he want to be someone who never wanted to spend any time with his kids. E who, while insisting on being called Samwise all day, was his first kiss.
Cause he knows what Mike wants to hear. He’s seen the way Mike and Will have danced around each other since the last portal closed. He’s heard the things Mike has said to and about Will. He’s heard all about the week that Will was in the Upside Down. He’s heard all about the summer of ‘85. He’s heard all about the final off again that seems to officially mark the end of Mike and El romantically. He knows that Mike wants him to say that he’d never even thought about boys before he met Eddie. That there’s just something special about Eddie that makes him want to give up his lady killing ways. That Eddie was different. That it was okay that he was having these scary new thoughts, maybe Will was just an exception.
And Steve doesn’t know how to have that conversation. When he realized he liked both it was a relief, that maybe he could have something normal and wouldn't have to spend his life lying or hiding.
But Eddie was different. Eddie was special. Eddie was probably it for Steve which is scary in a different way that he’s not ready to touch yet -- not when it’s only been three months.
There’s never been another girl since Nancy Wheeler, not really
There will never be another boy after Eddie Munson.
So he tries to help, as best he can. It’s easier with Eddie there, not quite dozing against his shoulder -- the kid’s emergencies always seem to come so late at night these days. “When I was ten, there was a boy whose name kept changing who decided prince charming should get to kiss his faithful knight. And when I was sixteen, your sister-”
Mike’s goodwill diminishes quickly as his sister gets introduced to the conversation.
“Stevie,” Eddie says. It’s not an admonishment for bringing up Nancy. It’s awestruck and watery. “You remember that?”
“Of course I remember the first boy I ever loved," that word catches up with him a second later. Remember.
Cause there's Eddie with his riot of brown curls and his Bambi eyes. Eddie, who has explained why soft feminine words chafe against his skin leaving him itchy and anxious. Eddie, who has an Uncle in Hawkins. Eddie who moved to town the summer before he entered high school with a buzzed head and his mother's last name. Eddie who finally settled into an E he liked best.
"Wheeler, here's a tip from me to you," Eddie says, his advice is always better received than Steve's anyway, "if you have to ask you probably already know."
"Straight people don't really spend much time wondering if they aren't really straight," Steve agrees.
They don't rush Mike out the door, a crisis is a crisis and even in the wake of new discoveries Mike deserves to be heard out. Deserves a chance to cry and rage and feel those emotions someplace safe from his Reaganite father -- just as much as Will deserves to have someone who knows what they want come to him, deserves better than experimentation.
They cross the bridge from late into early by the time Mike sets off. The sun is creeping up over the horizon and Mike looks solid, certain; the dawn hints at the man he is growing up to be. Though every instinct of Steve's begs him to drive the kid home, Eddie's soft hand lingering at his hip holds him fast. They wave instead, encouraging Mike to go home and to bed before he does anything; knowing his front bike tire is already pointed toward the Byers-Hopper place.
"The first boy you ever loved, huh, Stevie?" Eddie teases before the door has even managed to click shut.
"And the last, I'm hoping, if I play my cards right."
"You were always pretty good at that. You were the only person that summer who called me by my name, except Wayne."
"It was your name." He knows that's too simple. Knows how hard Eddie has had it, continues to have it. But that summer it had been that simple, Eddie trying on names like shirts each one fitting until they didn't. "For what it's worth, I like Eddie a lot more than Excalibur."
"Oh fuck off, I was going through a fantasy knight phase. Which I know you remember."
"Right a phase, and how much longer is this fantasy 'phase' going to last?"
They're the kind of tired that makes you feel drunk, when Eddie tackles Steve and sends them both to the floor and to giggles. Eddie might not have been his bi awakening, but Steve is pretty fine with him being his everything else.
#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#trans eddie munson#implied byler#steddie fic#my fic#i do worry that sometimes i come across as a nancy hater#which i cant emphasize enough is not the case#nancy is a complicated character and i love her and she and steve are not good for each other#also eddie trying on wayne because wayne was the first adult he told that he wasnt a girl and who handled it well#wayne at the breakfast table like okay then what is your name if its not [redacted] and eddie does not have an answer yet#so wayne says well just tell me when you get up what youre going by#so he decides while playing that day that its wayne#and that lasts exactly as long as it takes for steve to call him that before hes like nope thats weird#eddie is short for edmund but also short for eddie the head#eddie contains multitudes
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♡₊˚🎀・₊✧ 𝗻𝗮𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗶 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗴𝗼𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗯𝗶𝗿𝘁𝗵𝗱𝗮𝘆 . . . 𝗼𝗿 𝗱𝗶𝗱 𝗵𝗲? ♡₊˚🎀・₊✧
: ̗̀➛ read part one first
: ̗̀➛ tropes: fem! reader 𖥔 nanami forgot your birthday but he's got something special planned 𖥔 ceo x baker 𖥔 grumpy x sunshine 𖥔 she talks a lot x he listens a lot 𖥔 cold shoulder treatment 𖥔 mention of parental death 𖥔 major fluff 𖥔 sfw 𖥔 alternate universe 𖥔 super soft nanami 𖥔 close proximity
: ̗̀➛ words: 4.1 k
: ̗̀➛ notes: we're back again with fluffy nanami. honestly i shed a tear writing this one because it's just so adjfskdf. if you haven't read part one, go DO IT. RIGHT NOW. if you enjoy my work, please leave a comment, like, and reblog! thank you & ily. enjoy!
It's been a year since you took that leap, moving in with Nanami. Every day spent in each other's company feels like a fresh chapter, and the magic of your relationship persists as if it were the very first night.
Nanami, with his gentle smile and warm eyes, never tires of recounting the story from his perspective. Each time you ask, he patiently agrees to retell it, even though you've long since memorized every detail. The familiarity of his narrative only adds to the charm, as if reliving those moments helps both of you cherish the journey that brought you together.
“You invited a couple of my colleagues to your bakery's opening, and they brought back leftover cookies and pastries to the office. I grabbed some, and with the first bite, I knew your bakery was going to be my favorite. So, I asked Gojo to drive me to your city, not knowing it was going to rain that night. With no parking nearby, I ended up walking. Halfway through, it started pouring. Luckily, I made it just in time, and there you were, smiling like the sun that was supposed to be in the sky. You offered me free food and shelter, and right then, darling, I fell in love with you. It was the most incredible feeling in the world.”
Each time he finishes his heartwarming story, you can't help but be overwhelmed with emotion. Without hesitation, you jump on him with a flurry of kisses, showering him with all the love you harbor for your sweet, stoic boyfriend.
You've shared every conscious moment together since then. With Nanami now working remotely, he'd set up at one of the dining tables in your bakery, delving into meetings and paperwork. You'd plant kisses on his cheek or embrace him from behind, providing a boost of energy. Delivering his special casse-croûte and milk coffee, you occasionally found yourself feeding him as his busy hands typed away. Breaks led to stolen moments in the back room, where you'd make out like teenagers.
Once at home, you'd strip out of your clothes, shower or bathe together, and engage in domestic activities like watching television or attempting to nap, but those often evolved into extended sessions of sex.
Today, silence lingered between you two following a heated argument the previous night.
Unbeknownst to Nanami, your birthday was just around the corner, yet he had scheduled a business trip on that very day. Despite the depth of his knowledge about your past, from childhood playground scars to the dresses you wore for school dances, he seemed oblivious to the significance of the impending date.
In a seemingly nonchalant manner, Nanami had mentioned, “Darling, I'll be away on a business trip from the sixth and will return on the eighth. We can plan a picnic or head to the beach—whatever you prefer.”
“The sixth?” You had to set your utensils down, turning to face him. Your meals were typically enjoyed on the carpet, with plates on the coffee table and your favorite movies playing on the television. “You have a business trip? On the sixth?”
“Yes, that's correct.”
“Kento, what the hell? Why?”
He arched an eyebrow. “It's my job, darling. That's why. It's been on my agenda for a month. Missing it would mean losing out on a lucrative deal."
“But—” You caught yourself mid-sentence.
At that moment, you wished you could shout that it was your first-ever birthday celebration since your parents’ passing.
His birthday had been just two days prior, and you had gone all out—decorating the apartment, baking a cake, preparing a feast of his favorite dishes, buying him new cufflinks, and giving him the blowjob of the century as the cherry on top. It had become one of your cherished days together, an occasion you had been planning for weeks.
“But?” Nanami prodded.
You clenched your jaw. “But it's... you know. It's.”
“What's going on?” he asked, genuinely befuddled. “Did I miss something?”
Your lips quivered, and in an attempt to silence them, you stuffed a dumpling into your mouth, shaking your head. “Never mind.”
“Please, talk to me.”
Ignoring his plea, you continued shaking your head as he gently pulled at your shoulder to make you face him. Tears welled up in your eyes, streaming down your flushed cheeks. Even swallowing the dumpling felt like a struggle amid the surge of complaints in your throat.
“Darling—”
“Just forget it, Nanami.” You wiped your cheeks, your open hair concealing one side of your face. “You already have,” you whispered to yourself.
“Fine,” Nanami replied, casually returning to his food. It wouldn't have been a big deal if you had just mentioned your birthday, but it stung. He should know. After all, he's Nanami—meticulous with schedules, mindful of important dates, and impeccable with time management. Why doesn't he know?
“Are you joking?” you exclaimed, grabbing the remote from his grasp and turning off the movie. “That's all you have to say? ‘Fine’?”
“You told me to forget about it.”
“Yeah, I did. But that doesn't mean you actually forget.”
“I don't get it.”
“Of course you don't.”
He sighed, and you berated yourself for being so obstinate. You resented that sigh, as it made you feel like a nuisance. Yet, it was a warranted sigh, so you let it slide. “Are you upset?”
“What?”
“You are. I can't believe you're upset.” Running your fingers through your hair, you picked up your plate. “I'm going to bed before I say something stupid. Goodnight. Enjoy your trip.”
“Y/N—”
“Goodnight.”
“My love, what’s bothering you?” he asked from the living room while you dumped your dish in the sink. “Would you please just talk to me? Have I said something to offend you?”
You walked off toward your bedroom, into your bathroom, and locked the door. Turning on the shower, you sat down on the floor, holding your knees and crying in the gap between.
You've been ignoring Nanami ever since you woke up nestled against his chest—your body was naturally attuned to his. But since then, you've been withdrawn and moody, casting a shadow over your usual sunny demeanor. Even some of your regular customers have noticed and asked if you were unwell, but you brushed it off with a forced smile and a minor headache excuse. As you were wiping down tables, Nanami entered during lunchtime. You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, then retreated behind the counter, placing his coffee cup and sandwich a bit too forcefully.
“Thank you, darling,” he said, accepting it. “Would you like to join—”
“That'll be ten-fifty,” you interrupted, fingers already inputting the amount without meeting his gaze. You’ve never once charged him since you started dating; everything he desired was on the house because he was your favorite regular and person. You loved him so much that you even experimented in baking his beloved pastries and added them to the menu. Yet, he forgot your birthday.
Nanami retrieved the exact change from his wallet and extended it to you. Your hand snatched it, guilt gnawing at you instantly. Pretending to open the cash register, you discreetly slipped the money into your apron instead.
“Would you like to join me?” he asked once more.
You slammed the cash drawer shut and swiftly turned, heading to the inventory room to immerse yourself in organizing as a distraction.
As Nanami waited outside, thumbs dancing over his phone’s keyboard, you couldn't help but notice his sudden shift in demeanor when you approached. Your mind raced with suspicions of infidelity, but rationality reminded you of his busy schedule now that he wasn't in the office regularly. He was too devoted to you to entertain such thoughts.
Nanami reached out his hand, but you brushed past him, burying your hands in your cardigan. Determined to celebrate your birthday, albeit alone, you headed to the nearest supermarket for groceries. You planned to indulge in your favorite pasta dish, bake fudge brownies, and allow yourself to feel whatever emotions came, whether tears of joy or sadness. Today, you'd celebrate yourself. Happy birthday to you.
Nanami followed you into the supermarket, walking beside you as he added both your and his favorite snacks to the cart. You were determined to make him pay for it all, although you knew he would insist on covering the expenses regardless. Throughout the year you had been together, Nanami never once allowed you to spend your own money. Even during online shopping, he always managed to intercept, distracting you with neck kisses until you surrendered to using his card.
You couldn't help but pout and shoot him a sidelong glance as he meticulously examined the ingredients on a bag of chips. Your gaze then shifted to the cake mix and icing packets, giving you an idea. Bingo.
If you weren't going to outright mention your upcoming birthday, you could at least drop a hint.
Clearing your throat, you grabbed a chocolate-vanilla mix with caramel icing and deposited it into the cart. Nanami observed the entire exchange, briefly meeting your gaze with a neutral expression before returning to scrutinizing the ingredients as though they were sacred text.
Damn him!
“Excuse me, sir?” you called, drawing an innocent elderly employee into your scheme. “It's my friend's birthday tomorrow, and I'm torn between which cake mix to choose. Could you help me out?”
As Nanami switched to a different chip bag, your frustration simmered, but the employee weighed his options, eventually settling on chocolate-vanilla. Grateful, you thanked him and strode away, the cart trailing behind.
Nanami handled the grocery payment and bagging while you observed with arms crossed.
Back at home, you kicked off your shoes, discarded your cardigan on the floor, and trudged wearily to your bedroom. The sounds of the fridge and cabinets being stocked echoed as you sprawled out like a starfish.
“Is he pretending?” you mumbled to yourself. “He must be, right? He couldn't have forgotten my birthday. No way.”
Quickly, you took your phone, dialing Satoru, his assistant. The call forwarded instantly, but his response, received a minute later, left you irritated beyond measure.
Satoru: Sorry, Y/N. Can’t take your call. Packing for a business trip tomorrow. We’re going to Thailand. Will get you a souvenir!
Feeling frustrated, you left him on read and flopped onto your stomach, letting out a scream into the pillow.
Skipping dinner with Nanami, you stayed curled up in bed instead. Despite his attempts to comfort you, kissing your cheeks and tucking you in, you couldn't shake the ache in your heart as you heard him packing in the closet, trying to hide your tears.
It was well past midnight when you finally stirred awake.
Glancing over your shoulder, you found Nanami meters away from you. The realization hit you hard: he had genuinely forgotten your birthday. A mountain settled on your chest as you watched him sleep peacefully, unaware of his oversight. He didn't reach out to hold you close or pull you into his embrace; instead, he slept facing away from you.
You wiped away the tears from your tired eyes, then got up and took your pillows to the living room, hoping to find some sleep on the couch. Instead, you found yourself captivated by the sight of the sunrise.
Meanwhile, Nanami seemed unusually relaxed as he prepared for his business trip, taking his time with his morning routine. He took his time showering, shaving, and ironing his clothes—tasks that you usually handled. He adorned himself with the cuff links you gave him for his birthday and wore the cologne from your six-month anniversary. It stung a bit, realizing how diligent you were in remembering special dates while he seemed to forget them so easily.
But you shrugged it off.
Today was your birthday, and you were determined to make it special, even if you had to celebrate alone. Your customers were already aware that you'd be closed for the day, giving you the entire day and night, plus tomorrow, to yourself. Previous birthdays had been spent in isolation since your parents passed away. This one was supposed to be different because you had Nanami, yet he seemed to overlook its significance.
As you washed your breakfast dishes, disappointment bubbled up inside you, causing you to grip the sponge tightly. Deciding to put off the chore, you washed your hands and turned your attention to baking a cake for yourself.
Nanami sauntered into the kitchen, nonchalantly lugging three hefty suitcases. Why the hell did he need three massive suitcases? Your boyfriend had become a complete mystery to you. You scowled as he tapped away on his phone, the urge to grab it and fling it off the balcony almost irresistible. What luxury could those three suitcases possibly hold? Perhaps new dresses, shoes, or jewelry for whoever was receiving his relentless texts. With his poker-face, it was impossible to tell if it was a woman on the other end.
“Kento.”
Nanami's head jerked up. “Yes, dar—”
“It's my birthday today,” you finally admitted. Enough was enough. You needed him to know and feel miserable for forgetting it while he was on this supposed business trip. You knew it wasn't merely business. He always took you along on such trips. Business trip, my ass. It was clear he was having an affair. “It's my birthday today, Kento.”
His mouth opened to respond, but the ringing phone interrupted him.
You scoffed at the timing of it all, abandoning the cake mixture in the pan. “Have a safe trip.” You walked past him, slamming the bedroom door shut, and collapsed under the covers, sobbing.
Something chimed persistently in the background, prodding at your temples like a sharp stick, urging you to wake up.
You fumbled around on the mattress, locating your vibrating phone and swiping right, still half-asleep.
“Hello?” you croaked out.
“Oh, thank God!” panted Gojo's voice. “There's an emergency with Nanami, Y/N!”
“What?” You shot up in bed, immediately springing into action.
“We were headed to the airport when he suddenly fell ill and started vomiting!” You listened intently as you hurriedly searched through your closet for your cardigan. “I brought him to your bakery since it was closer.” Nanami did have a spare key to your bakery for emergencies. “He's really not doing well, Y/N. Please come as quickly as you can.”
“I'm on my way, Satoru! Thanks for letting me know. I'll be there in a flash. Keep comforting him and try making him some green tea if possible. I can't find anything—Where did all my clothes go?” You shuffled his suits aside and rummaged through your drawers, finding only a few undergarments but nothing else. “Damn it. Alright, I'll be there soon.”
“Of course. See you soon!”
You pushed aside all distractions and focused solely on Nanami, hastily grabbing your bathrobe to cover your shorts and tank top. Rushing to the elevator, you repeatedly pressed the lobby button, feeling your body tremble with anxiety. Your chin quivered as you bit down on your bottom lip, overwhelmed by guilt. Nanami wasn’t prone to sickness as much as you were, but your cold shoulder must’ve given him a cold. The thought made you despise yourself even more, tears streaming down your face as you hurried along the sidewalk, navigating past cyclists and ignoring the curious stares of passersby.
You entered your bakery, the door pushing open with a jingle. “Kento! Ken—”
Your words halted.
The space was decorated with a multitude of lit candles, casting a warm glow over every surface - the counter, tables, chairs, and bare shelves. A three-tiered vanilla chocolate cake adorned with “Happy Birthday Y/N” in elegant script stood proudly on a table. A trail of fresh rose petals led to a solitary chair facing a makeshift projector screen fashioned from a white bed sheet. On the screen, a paused video titled “Life In Her Eyes” awaited.
With cautious steps, you approached the lone chair, scanning the bakery for any signs of activity but finding none. Nervously, you moistened your lips and reached for the small remote with a note reading “Play me,” before settling into the seat.
With a trembling hand, you pressed play on the three-minute video.
“This is my beautiful girlfriend, Y/N,” Nanami's voice narrated in the video, overlaying a scene where you filmed your boyfriend tossing pebbles into the ocean. “She loves to record every single moment we spent together.” The scene shifted to you capturing Nanami's reaction to Alice Vision in Breaking Dawn Part Two. “She loves feeding me if I’m busy working.” A moment captured where you sat on his lap, sharing a pastry and planting a kiss on his cheek. “She loves sunrises and sunsets.” Your camera focused on Nanami's back against the colorful sky. “She insists I hold every stray cat because apparently, an attractive man with a pet drives her wild." Nanami's expression remained composed as he gently stroked the purring white Siamese.
“It’s the truth,” you muttered, using your arm to wipe away the tears and mucus from your runny nose.
“Y/N loves collecting miniature figurines, plush toys, and vintage trinkets.” In a solo vlog, you showcased your latest shopping haul for Nanami, who was in Shibuya for a board meeting. “All. The. Time.” Vlog after vlog, Nanami gathered them all and edited them into snappy clips. “She has a passion for photographing meals and desserts, whether we dine out, order takeout, or cook at home.” The footage captured you filming your dinner plates and soliciting Nanami's ratings as he munched, nodded, and gave you a thumbs up. When he requested the clips, you didn't think much of it. “I haven't met anyone who cherishes life's little joys quite like Y/N.”
The fast-paced snippets capture moments of you brushing dirt off flowers, generously offering cookies to teens studying in your bakery, crafting a necklace from seashells collected at the beach, attempting an ASMR mukbang with Nanami but ending up laughing too much, sharing your collection of hair ribbons, exploring the streets of Malaysia hand-in-hand on your first abroad trip, playfully filming him exercising and flipping the camera to fan yourself and bite your lip, sharing kisses while painting on the living room floor, and him peacefully asleep with his head resting on your chest—
Suddenly, the screen goes black, displaying the title “Life In My Eyes.”
Wiping away tears, you lean forward eagerly, curious about what other scenes he has in store.
Then, your own face fills the screen, bathed in the warm glow of the golden hour, with fluffy summer clouds behind you. Instantly, you recognize the setting: the cliff in Malaysia where you once spent hours talking. But in this clip, your eyes are closed, and you're facing ahead while Nanami captures your profile.
It switched to a different scene of you peacefully asleep against his chest, wrapped in one of his soft cashmere sweaters.
Then, it transitioned to you busy in the kitchen, a smudge of flour on your cheek and strands of hair escaping from your bun.
Next, it showed you tackling household chores, applying makeup, hurrying around declaring, “We're going to be late for the airport,” or shedding tears during the finale of “Happy Feet 2,” or enjoying a quiet moment reading and jotting notes on your balcony.
“Are you recording me?” Suddenly, a clip appeared of you playing with Sumo, a cat you had instantly fallen in love with at the pet adoption center.
“Yes,” Nanami confirmed.
“Pfft. That's my job,” you replied, returning to playing with Sumo. Nanami awkwardly turned the camera around, unable to find the right function to flip screens, and winked.
Then, it shifted to a dimly lit room illuminated solely by flickering candle lights.
It was your bakery.
You appeared on the screen, seated with your back to the camera. You waved an arm, only to realize it was a live feed.
What the . . . ?
Confused, you turned around to locate the camera, but instead found Nanami. On one knee. Holding a red-suede box containing a diamond ring.
You almost tumbled off your chair in disbelief.
Nanami . . . Nanami was proposing to you.
Your boyfriend . . . soon to be your fiancé.
And you couldn't breathe.
Panic threatened to overwhelm you.
But first, you needed to slip that ring onto your finger and shower him with kisses.
Approaching him, you dropped to your knees, gently holding his face in your hands as you kissed him. Tears mingled with your synchronized lips, memories of his touching video playing in your mind. Life, in your eyes, was simply the joys of it. But in his eyes, life was you. You were his reason for living. And he was your heart, keeping you alive.
You pulled back, nodding silently as he slid the ring onto your finger. You noticed his initials on the inner rim, and a sob choked out of you, quickly sealing the moment with a kiss. His arm encircled your waist as he lifted you up, kissing you passionately. It felt like a soldier returning from battle, your body bending back as his smile widened against your lips. Soon, you would be Mrs. Nanami. Holy cow.
“Happy birthday, darling,” Nanami murmured softly as you tried to catch your breath. He gestured with a finger and walked over to the back of the counter. “Close your eyes for me, my love.”
You shut them tightly, wiping away the tears, and sniffled, taking a deep breath.
“Hold out your hands,” Nanami whispered.
You complied.
Something small, soft, and incredibly fuzzy settled onto your palms.
“Mew.”
Your eyes flew open, and there he was. Sumo. It was Sumo, the kitten who had both you and your boyfriend—fiancé—enchanted with his charm. You whined about adopting him once you left the shelter, but Nanami had been practical and kept the idea aside.
“Is he . . . Is he ours?” you asked, gazing into the feline’s sky-blue eyes.
“He's ours,” Nanami replied with a smile.
“He's—Oh my goodness, I'm going to start crying again.” And indeed, you did cry, holding Sumo tightly against your heart, gazing at the radiant diamond ring on your finger, and observing Nanami wipe away a tear from his eye's inner corner. “Kento, we're getting married!”
“I know, my love.” He planted kisses on your forehead, damp cheeks, and lips. “I can’t breathe,” he whispered, stealing another kiss. “You'll soon be my wife.”
“And you'll be my husband.”
“Such a privilege.”
You chuckled, giving him a quick kiss and wrapping your arm around his waist. Resting your head on his chest, you both admired Sumo staring wide-eyed at his parents. “I don't think I've cried this much since . . . ” You sealed the mention of your parents’ passing with a sigh.
“I broke your heart with my plan,” he rasped out. “And I apologize sincerely for it. Satoru assured me it was foolproof, and regrettably, I trusted his judgment.”
It was no surprise it was his assistant.
“Where is he, by the way?”
“Parked down the block,” Nanami replied, lifting Sumo with his large hands to place him in his carrier. “I've already packed our bags for a trip. I'm taking you to Italy.”
“Huh?”
Nanami was nonchalant as he tidied up around the bakery, extinguishing the candles. “It's just for the weekend. I've spent the past week crafting an itinerary with all your favorite spots and restaurants to visit. You'll love the hotel we're staying at.”
You were about to bombard him with a barrage of questions, but instead, you couldn't help but smile.This was Nanami, after all. He had a knack for surprising you. One minute he'd be showering you with affection, the next he'd be whisking you away to Dubai for a vacation. One minute he'd forget your birthday, and the next he'd be proposing on one knee, presenting you with the cat you'd always wanted and whisking you off to your dream destination.
“—and there's this café that sells the most delicious macaroons—”
You interrupted him by pulling him close, planting a kiss on his lips, and wrapping your arms around him. Nanami eagerly responded, one hand resting on the small of your back and the other cradling the back of your head. When you finally broke apart, breathless, you looked into his hazel eyes and said, “Let's take our time, play with Sumo, and enjoy the cake you baked.”
“How did you know I baked it?”
You shrugged. “Baker's intuition.”
Nanami embraced you, resting his chin on your head. He took a deep breath as if replenishing his oxygen supply. His fingers gently ran through your hair, soothingly rubbing your back. “I love you, Y/N,” he whispered as though it were a fleeting thought.
You nuzzled closer to his chest. “I love you too, Kento.”
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Stay in your lane
Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x Reader
Inspired by the song ‘Stay In Your Lane’ by Bronson Diamond and Greta Stanley
Summary: Jake finally realises it’s time to settle down when this mission could become fatal, especially when he sets eyes on the woman he knows is destined to be his future wife - but with his ‘Hangman womaniser’ reputation floating around Top Gun, it won’t be that easy.
Jake had seen you at the bar for a few weekends running now. And each weekend he had drunk enough Dutch courage yet never actually managed to speak to you. He’d first seen you the evening he was first reinstated at Top Gun for the uranium-plant ‘suicide mission’ and with this evening being the penultimate one before Maverick would construct his final flight crew; he’d decided now was a better time than ever. He’d die a happy man knowing he’d at least taken the jump with you.
He was enamoured; whipped the moment he’d first laid eyes on you. The moment all his ‘fuck-boy’ antics and aspirations melted before him and some homeliness grew. He’d always been teased for his charming bed-side manner: before sneaking out the morning after, not forgetting to delete his number from the poor girl’s phone then dashing out the door with another mark to his name and a victorious smirk on his lips.
But recently he’d been sick of the reputation he’d grown to be so proud of, almost embarrassed by his own name and face - he wasn’t blind to the two strands of grey hair that appeared behind his left ear, he wasn’t getting any younger. He didn’t want to be the unmarried sailor who had too much fun as a bachelor in his earlier years and never settled down. Jake didn’t like the idea of dying alone.
Especially not now this mission was looming ever closer.
You’d walked into the bar just before Rooster began serenading the piano, when Hangman was teasing the ‘old timer’, soon to be instructor and throwing him out of the bar for being unable to pay for the tab the aviators and civilians had accumulated for him as a consequence of his phone being on the table top. Jake had turned and winked at you when he’d ordered another beer on Maverick, one for you too for which you just rolled your eyes, unimpressed. Needless the say for once that actually bruised Hangman’s indestructible ego. Normally he wouldn’t have batted an eye when being rejected by a girl at a bar; simply moving onto his next endeavour to take some gullible girl home by the end of the night.
But you didn’t seem like that kind of girl: you seemed like a lady - a woman. And your rejection wounded him more than any bullet or stab any could.
And now you were here for the third weekend running and he was ready to finally try ask you out, especially before he got too drunk too - already racking up his eighth beer and fifth whiskey, even chancing some of the sailor’s rum sitting in the glass cabinet with all the expensive liquor. “Man, just go.” Javy said, elbowing Hangman deep enough to wind him slightly. “What if she rejects me?” Javy laughed. “Jake ‘womaniser’ Seresin is worried about being rejected?” But his chortle died down when he saw the serious conflicting expression on his fellow aviator’s face. Javy thought for a moment before walking over to Rooster and concocting a plan with him. “Hangman won’t talk to lady?” The sunglasses-clad man laughed. “Funny.” Javy shook his head. “No man I’m serious. Look at him.” They both looked across the bar to the man looking helplessly at the newly familiar girl chatting with Penny with a comfortable grin on her face.
“Damn if Hangman doesn’t want her I’ll have her.” Rooster commented, pulling his sunglasses to the end of his nose to look at you properly and whistling lowly. Javy slapped his chest, having a lightbulb moment “I’ve got it. You go and tell him that.” Rooster raised a brow waiting for him to elaborate. “Go over there, tell him you’re gonna go chat her up and watch how fast he moves.” Rooster smirked, loving the fact he was being offered the opportunity to wind up Hangman. “Next rounds on you.” He told Javy, hitting him on the back as he strutted over to the lovesick man by the pool table.
Rooster mirrored his actions from a few moments prior, eyeing you like a tall glass of water after days stranded in the heat-infested desert. He whistled, gaining Hangman’s attention, forcing him to drag his attention away from you. “Who’s the honey at the bar? She is mighty fine.” Rooster commented, biting his lip slightly. “Found my mission for tonight, wish me lucky.” He patted Hangman’s shoulder, who was getting progressively more aggravated by Rooster’s comments - not even noticing how tight his grip was on his beer before it was slammed on the table and he raced past Rooster. “Back off, porn-tash.” He grumbled and the tanned man smirked, his job was done.
Jake marched straight over to you and leant against the bar beside you, ordering another beer off of Penny and requesting she get you another of whatever you were drinking, turning to smirk at you gently. You looked at him, unimpressed but with a small smile on your lips. “Evening darlin’” Jake nodded at you, trying to make his charms work one last time. “Evening.” You replied, thanking Penny for your new drink, and him too. “Thanks for the drink, but I can pay for myself.” You say, not trusting the khaki uniforms regardless of what the face wearing them told you.
“And I don’t doubt that, allow me to apologise for treating the gorgeous lady at the bar.” He says jokingly, taking a seat beside you. “What’s your name darlin’” you laugh slightly and tell him. “And what’s yours?” You retort. “Jake. But my coworkers call me Hangman.” He told you, trying to woo you with his Naval charm. “Hangman? What, did you lose a game? Not enough consonants?” He laughed at you. Normally now he’d made a joke about him being ‘hung’ in more ways than one but he stopped himself, wanting to impress you/ not seduce you.
He continued to attempt make small talk with you throughout the evening, you hardly entertaining his antics. “Look, Hangman” you say straight, after your third drink, compliment of him of course. “I don’t know what you’re playing at, but if your goal is to get me in your bed by the end of the night, you’ve got another think coming. You have a reputation around this base and I don’t intend on becoming another one of your one-nighters.” You throw back the rest of your drink. “So thank you for the drinks, but this ends here.” You say, about to stand up before a rough yet gentle touch reached out to keep you sat, prompting a frustrating and challenging look in return.
“I’ve been shot and I’ve been stabbed but I’ve never been so madly in love as I am with you.” He said all of a sudden, causing you to sit right back down in your seat; shock overcoming you. “Excuse me?” You say, almost thinking you hadn’t heard this infamous aviator you’d only known for the past two hours admitting his adoration for you. “Look I that my reputation proceeds me, but seeing you for the first time three weeks ago made me realise somethin’, darlin” he licked his lips in nerves, gathering his thoughts: prepared to admit to you. You cocked your head to one side, almost unable to speak “I know we just met, but if I had to bet I´d say you feel the same way too”
“Cause I’ve realised that when I first looked at you, in that gorgeous dress with that bright smile, self-sufficient and head strong I knew I’d have to drop my ridiculous play-boy persona sometime soon. Especially if I wanna settle down with a mighty-fine gal such as yourself.” He admits, looking down nervously and swallowing - adam’s apple bobbing as you question his intentions and think that he may be more gentle than his reputation had told you.
Suddenly The Righteous Brothers’ infamous song amongst Miramar pilots began playing; You’ve Lost That Lovin’ Feelin’ and Hangman smirks and an idea develops within his mind. He stands and offers a hand to you “dance with me, please?” You give a small smile, allowing your heart to lead instead of your preemptive mind familiar with his kind and laced your hand in his, standing and smoothing your dress which he found incredible endearing.
He began swaying back and forth, talking so loud you could barely hear the band. As he sung along to the sound, keeping his hands respectively on your hips and eyes never straying away from your own. When the song had finished he necked the rest of his beer, drinkin´so fast you were surprised he could even stand. Even trying to be endearing; making a fool of himself dancing just to hear you laugh, dancin´ like a crab running over the stinkin´ hot sand.
Eventually you both moved to the cracked-open door adjacent to the beach, sitting on the deck as he eyed the hand closest to him, but you were still hesitant - the infamous ‘Hangman’ reputation weighing heavy in your mind. His pinky inching towards your own and you chuckle gently, shaking your head “and I was hopin’-” you cut him off “you were dreamin´ if you thought you were gonna be holdin´ my hand” you inform him.
“Later Hangman!” You both hear and turn to see the rest of the dagger squad making their way out of the bar, Nat winking at you unbeknownst to Jake and you requite her gesture. “Later!” He waves them off. He stands and struts to the bar, taking you with him to jot his details on a napkin “here is my number, call me when you get home” he slides it to you, to which you reverse his action, pushing it back to him “that number ain’t no good to me, ´cus I don’t own a telephone” you shrug, but he knew it was in your jacket pocket.
“Well then,” he scribbles again “here is my address, write to me if you could” he suggests and you shrug “well, I never finished school, my writin´ just ain’t no good” he grits his jaw slightly “the way you carry yourself tells me otherwise, ma’am.” he says and you smirk, leaning closer to whisper in his ear “that’s doctor to you, Jake.” He shivers at the way you say the name he’s been used to hearing since birth. But hearing you say it was so raw: so true. So right.
He raises a brow “Doctor? News to me” “y’never asked.” You say gently. “Final call! Another round or get your asses safely home ladies and gents!” Penny announces in a holler from her position behind the bar, to the final few stragglers at the Hard Deck; including yourself and Jake.
He opens the door for you; winking as you feign flattery and naming him a gentleman, you both thanking Penny for the evening and leaving to your respected vehicles. “Now the bar’s are closin´, and we’re leavin´ at the same time” he comments, entwining your hand with his which you begrudgingly feel absentmindedly closing around his, also. You shake your head and look up to him “So stay in your lane, boy and I’ll stay in mine” you say and his eyes sadden slightly, reaching your car and you lean against it, welcoming him trapping you against the driver’s-side door “Ive been shot and I’ve been stabbed, but I’ve never been so sad knowing I’ll never see you again” he says, pulling your hand up to kiss each knuckle, not allowing himself to disrupt eye-contact; fearing that as quick as you came into his sights, you’d be gone.
You smile, using your free hand to caress his cheek slightly; him leaning into your soft touch. “Don’t be so dramatic, I’m at this bar every damn weekend” you say matter-of-factly, leaning to kiss his cheek before pulling away and climbing into your car. “Goodnight, Hangman.” And you reverse away, a pang in his heart until he felt for his phone in the back pocket of his summer whites, a small strip of paper falling out alongside it. He picks the unknown scribe from the gravel and inspect it - your phone number written in a neat hand and he grins - maybe his bedside manner was improving.
And that mission crept up on the daggers quicker than they’d ever hoped and Hangman found himself antsy in his cockpit, about to take off to go save his instructor and career-long buddy: not that either of them would ever admit their comradeship. He closed his eyes and pictured your tired face that gleamed back at him at the twilight hour he’d last saw you, knowing you were the reason he’d return from this final task - listening to the air traffic control counting down until his take-off.
Before he’d realised, he’d acquired another air-to-air confirmed kill under his belt of a fifth-generation fighter and was headed back to base to celebrate. “Well done aviators, helicopter paramedics Reaper and Sunny are waiting on deck to check you all over.” The voice instructs over comms. “Reaper? Why’d they call ‘em that?” Hangman asks with a chuckle and the voice was dormant for a few seconds. “We usually send her when we think there’s gonna be dead needing reviving.” And soon the callsign wasn’t a joke and they realised the higher-ups were more prepared for this suicide mission than the pilots were.
Hangman climbed out of his aircraft and shook hands with Rooster, all just happy to be safe back on deck after a successful mission. “Lieutenant Seresin!” One of the engineers called “you’ve been instructed to go be checked over by Reaper.” Jake nods and walks through the crowd giving him pats on the back, to the helicopter. “Reaper? I’ve been told to be assessed.” The paramedic pivoted to face him and his facade dropped, as you stood before him in your pilot get-up and medical equipment strung onto your shoulder.
You sighed heavily “thank god you’re okay” you say and he wordlessly approaches you and dips you in a long-awaited kiss “please give me a chance, don’t make me stay in my lane, princess”
“Wouldn’t think of it, cowboy”
#masterlist#xreader#smut#fluff#warner sister#angst#requests#x you#imagine#top gun#top gun maverick x reader#top gun fandom#top gun fic#top gun imagine#top gun 1986#top gun x reader#rooster x reader#hangman x reader#Jake x reader#Seresin x reader#maverick x reader#Jake Seresin#Jake Seresin x reader#top gun maverick#topgunmaverick#top gun fanfiction#top gun hangman#stay in your lane#country#country music
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Fun Facts about Fiance to a Star
Lore/relationship drama of Phantom family and those connected to it, this time. Long post, be warned.
It all started like a fairytale - Madeline Walker was the fairest in all lands, beauty and grace, genius magical prodigy, skilled with a sword, kind, loyal, and fierce. When she first came to AMITIE, young and full of stars in her eyes, Clockwork had warned her not to dig too deep.
She did not give his warning much thought.
Over the years, a lot of men tried to win her over, but she declined all of them. Vlad, who had fallen in love with her at first sight, decided to be smarter than most and claimed the place of her best friend, hoping that later she would notice him. Madeline did not. Instead, she had fallen - both literally and metaphorically - all over Jack Fenton, who, unlike all others, had never given much thought to her beauty or genius. Jack only saw a girl who was just as interested in studying otherlings as he was.
The three of them together - Maddie, Jack, and Vlad - had created lots and lots of trouble during their years in AMITIE. It was Jack who once overrun the fifth floor by a giant plant spirit - a weave of a charm gone wrong. Even now, years later, it is not recommended to bring any plants on the fifth floor hence they may come to life. It was Vlad who accidentally forced a blessing of Nocturn over a whole class of White Golds, and Clockwork had to spend a week trying to release them from their forever sleep. It was Maddie who engraved an explosion charm into her staff, which backfired splendidly a month later - the ceiling of the cafeteria still has a few scorch marks from that day.
And it was all them together who created the first unmarked door.
It was a breakthrough, a path to the Other Side, an accomplishment like no other. For the first time, humans could come to the Other Side at will.
Unfortunately, it also meant that otherlings could come into the Mortal Realm just as easily. But nor Maddie, nor Jack or Vlad knew it then.
Excited at the successful experiment, the working door to the Infinite Lands, Madeline proposed to Jack then and there, and he, overwhelmed by his happiness from all sides, agreed instantly. Vlad was forced to accept it - he did not like it, but Maddie made her choice, and he could not convince her otherwise.
Just a year later, Jazz was born. And, by sheer coincidence, the second unmarked door had appeared, not in the research labs in the underground floors, but on the eighth floor, by Vortex's classroom, without anyone noticing.
It was not long until the Darkest Pariah had noticed these new paths. And, when he went through out of curiosity, what did he find? A place full of mages of all sizes and shapes. Ancients - his subjects - teaching humans of the ways of magic. And a charming maiden with hair as bright as fire and a wicked grin on her lips, with magic like no other. It must have been destiny.
Yet, when he asked, the maiden turned him down, just like she did with every other man. She claimed she was already married. Pariah did not understand - her soul was untied, which meant whatever marriage she was speaking of has not been official in his understanding. So, finding no other way to claim what he already thought of as his, he stole the love of his life and brought her to the Other Side.
She fought him. Again and again, every day, until Pariah saw no other way than to simply charm her into accepting him.
A year later, the Wandering Star was born. Maddie insisted on him having a human name as well, but Pariah never liked how 'Daniel' sounded.
Meanwhile, as Pariah was enjoying his play-pretend at a family, back in the Mortal Realm, both Jack and Vlad were going insane with worry. They kept searching and searching for Madeline, first together, then separately after a fair share of arguments between them. It was Vlad who had finally found her through many trials and dangers. In Pariah's castle. With a kid.
Long story short, he stole her away, together with Danny, and brought them both back to the Academy. The charm Pariah put Madeline under fell just as they got to the Tower, and Vlad, in his frenzied and panicked state, confessed to her at that moment. He told her he could protect her and do it better than her oaf of a husband, he would accept the half-otherling kid, he would do anything for her. He already did everything for her, he stood in the way of a burning curse that was guarding Pariah's castle...
But Maddie, overwhelmed by a sudden flood of memories that came back after Pariah's charm fell, pushed him away and ran to find Jack, leaving the heartbroken, cursed man where he stood.
In the next few years, everything seemed to go back to normal. The doors - each and every one that spawned over the Tower - were sealed and locked away. Jack and Jazz reunited with Maddie, and Danny was accepted into the Fenton family easily. Clockwork offered them to stay, to live in the Tower - if Maddie or Danny ever stepped out, they would immediately be found by Pariah. The Academy was the only place that was hidden from his gaze.
Danny grew and learned more and more. He met Tucker when he was five - the boy's family were magi-blacksmiths, and they moved to the town near the Academy to have access to its research and labs. Later, they both met Sam. She was undergoing a course of Trait control in the Tower since her familial plant powers were amplified by a blessing granted by Undergrowth. Sam bragged about a prophecy that spoke of her gaining unlimited power in the future.
Vlad, who disappeared shortly after Maddie's return - supposedly to gain control over the remains of the burning curse that were left in his body - came back when Danny was eleven. Yet, he didn't try reconnecting with Fentons, nor did he speak to Danny about anything. He buried himself in research and, slowly, merged in the background. Just another unfamiliar face in the crowd, another researcher in the Tower.
When Danny was twelve, he found one of the sealed unmarked doors. What happened next, everyone in the Academy remembered as the Time Catastrophe: when re-opened by a child that had way more power than he could control, the door did not lead him to a different place. Rather, it led him to a different time. Clockwork later explained it as a mistake caused by the fact he was personally mentoring Danny most of the time, so the boy must have unconsciously picked up a thing of two from him, from the Ancient of Time.
In any case, through that door came Dan. And it went... Not very well, but by the end of it, the older, different, wrong version of Wandering Star stayed in this dimension. After all, it was an accident that brought him here, and there was no way to send him back. Jack and Maddie offered him to join the family, of course, but the man declined. And, seeing that he was not the Child of King to the Other Side, not the one Pariah was looking for, Clockwork let him leave the Tower. He became a mercenary - a wanderer - and wasn't that ironic, given his name.
Everything came to an end two years later, when Danny turned fourteen. The Rift, a giant portal to the Other Side, opened over the Tower, and countless demons came through it. And, at the front lines of the otherling invasion, was the Darkest Pariah.
On his right side was Vlad and a girl who looked so much like Danny.
The demons, born over the years from Pariah's loss, grief, and anger, could not get through the walls of the Tower. Guarded by the oldest Ancient, it stood tall and protected by numerous shields the Ancients have created over the ages. Fentons were safe inside, but... There was no one to stop Pariah. The Ancients, bound by the Crown, could not fight the King, only defend themselves. So, in his attempt at luring the ones he desired out, Pariah sent the demons to towns and cities around, threatening to keep killing everyone they find until the Academy gives him what he wants. And he wanted Maddie.
When she heard about it, she knew she had no choice. One life over hundreds, maybe thousands of others, it was a simple decision. Yet, before she could make it, a child stood up in front of Pariah.
Danny, who cared for his mother and called Jack his father, despite knowing he was not born to him. Danny, who spent his life in the Tower, closed off from the wide world because of Pariah's obsession. Danny, with two friends by his side, an ice blade in his trembling hands and silver in his eyes that spoke of anger, of hurt, and of a burning desire to protect those he loved.
The Rift was closed only half a day after it was open.
Darkest Pariah met his end at his son's hand.
To the outside world, the Rift had been an unfortunate catastrophe caused and later handled by the mages of Academy. Only a handful of people - and the otherlings, of course - knew the truth, and none of them really wanted to share it.
Vlad, narrowly escaping death with the help of Dani, was made to stay at the Academy, where Clockwork could keep an eye on him. He never confessed it, but everyone was sure he's been the traitor who told Pariah of Maddie's and Danny's whereabouts.
Dani - Vlad's poor attempt at recreating Danny, the reasons for which he also never told another soul about - had spent nearly a year in Frostbite's care. At first, she remained loyal to Vlad as her creator, but over time, with the help of many talks with both Danny and Clockwork, she learned the whole ugly truth about everything that happened. Since then, she never spoke to Vlad and never returned to the Academy, spending her life as a free spirit and roaming the world.
Soon after the fall of Pariah, Maddie, who was now free to leave the Tower, decided that her life as a mage and researcher had come to an end and left it behind. Jack followed her, deeming his wife more important than magic. They offered both Jazz and Danny to go with them, but Danny could not leave the Tower yet - not because of someone or something keeping him there anymore, but because of the responsibility that fell on his shoulders after Pariah's defeat. He was the Heir now, the rightful Prince to the Other Side. Jazz stayed behind as well, for many reasons, starting with the fact she did not want to abandon her brother and ending with her own goals, most of which were related to magic.
Two years later, Clockwork had given Danny a scroll with a long-forgotten prophecy that tied him with one of the Gotham princes.
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This is the very brief run-through Danny's life before the events of Fiance to a Star. I skipped over a lot of details here, like how Sam's prophecy turned out, for example (short answer to that is pretty much 'unfortunate plant possession'). If you have any questions about other characters, feel free to ask them! Depending on how much I get, I might end up making a whole another post with answers.
Oh, yeah, by the way, about Fenton/Phantom. Fenton is Jack's last name, and, naturally, both Jazz and Danny have it. Yet, Dan and Dani technically do not belong to the family, so after Jack and Maddie left, Dani jokingly offered Phantom as a last name for Danny, Dan, and her. Since they are phantoms of each other, she thought it was poetic. The boys thought it was a great idea, and later, Jazz was also included in the Phantom family. It wasn't long before Sam and Tucker also started using it, so now they are a weird mix of friends and family that all go by one last name in certain circles (among otherlings, mostly).
#danny phantom#dc x dp#dpxdc#fantasy au#fic lore#pariah dark#maddie fenton#jack fenton#dan phantom#dani phantom#jazz fenton#clockwork#god this was long#i tagged this dpxdc but really its only dp here#except for last line#oh well#anyway this was fun#hope that makes sense#cork writes fantasy
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