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peachdues · 1 year ago

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BIRTHDAY SURPRISES — NSFW

Sanemi Shinazugawa x Reader

A/N: there is nothing redeemable about this. It’s just 7.9k words of pure filth in honor of my man’s birthday.

My husband got a boner reading this, so enjoy you whores.

CW: MDNI • Explicit sexual content • daddy!kink • elevator blowjobs • creampies • rough sex • kinky sex • brat-taming/mild dumbification • overstimulation • fluff at the end followed by more smut • not proof read lmao

Sanemi Shinazugawa has never liked the month of November.

For starters, the stupid month can’t decide what damn season it wants to be. It’s somehow too cold to really qualify as autumn and the leaves have usually fallen to the ground, brown and dead and useless, but it’s also still too warm to snow.

And November is such a tease — smack dab between two great holidays yet offering nothing but a restlessness that persists until the end of the year.

So no, Sanemi Shinazugawa isn’t fond of this time of year. But the universe has never shied away from giving him the middle finger, so Sanemi supposes he shouldn’t be surprised his birthday falls during such a bullshit month like November.

He’d been content to spend the day of his birth like he did every other year — hunkered down in his apartment with some cheap takeout, alone, without anyone to make a big fuss about it. That was the plan — his goddamn plan.

So how the fuck did he end up here?

The “here” in question is a suite at one of the city’s most exclusive hotels. The room is stuffed full of faces, some familiar but most not, packed together like sardines. The music is loud and pulsing and it threatens to give him a nasty headache.

It was Tengen who convinced him to allow this — though, Sanemi doesn’t suppose he was given much of a choice in the matter. But his friend group learned of his impending birthday a few weeks earlier, and before Sanemi could level a few, well-backed threats against any party planning, Tengen had booked the massive suite in which he now found himself, and promised Sanemi that he wouldn’t have to buy a single drink.

Sanemi agreed only on the condition that he be allowed to book a separate hotel room — several floors below where this godforsaken party now raged.

At least Tengen had meant it when he promised Sanemi wouldn’t have to spend a dime on alcohol. He took care to run up his friend’s tab by ordering several shots of Grey Goose, throwing them back as easily as water.

Hey, it was his birthday, after all.

The hotel suite is a blur of lights and colors and bodies pressed together in dark corners. Truthfully, Sanemi really can’t find any one thing to pay attention to; it’s ironic that this party is supposedly for him, and yet he feels like the most invisible person in the room.

But then he spots you — beautiful, witty, and charming you — seated in the lounge area, surrounded by both shared friends and strangers, and it’s like a spotlight has been pointed directly at you. All else seems to fall away, recessing into the shadows of the room, and his attention is locked solely on you; the star of the show that is his birthday party.

The feelings swirling in Sanemi’s chest are dangerous; lethal. He knows he should look away and accept the fact that you, with your endless pick of eligible women and men, would never deign to chase after someone like him, someone with as many scars on his heart as are seared into his skin. He knows that. He knows he’s only setting himself up to get more pissed off — to hate his birthday more than he already does.

But he can’t stop watching you.

And even if he could, he doesn’t want to. He’s only been in love with you since the moment Shinobu tugged you into a booth at a bar they all frequented. There hadnt really been any room for you to sit — not with seven of them already packed tightly onto the bench — but you’d taken one look at him and grinned, something that could only be described as mischief lighting your eyes.

“You don’t mind if I sit here, do you?” You’d asked him sweetly as you plopped your ass right down on his lap. “You look like you’re the comfiest one here.”

Sanemi, who was known for having a quick temper and an even quicker mouth, had been stunned into silence by the presence of a beautiful woman, perched on his knee like it was the most natural thing to sit on a stranger’s lap. His friends had been hard-pressed to suppress their smirks at the way Sanemi gaped at the back of your head, and he was fairly certain it was because you’d been so ballsy that you’d secured a permanent spot in their weekly bar rotation.

That had been over a year ago, and Sanemi’s infatuation with you grew deeper by the day.

Not that he’d ever done anything about it — even though, at times, it felt like you were all but baiting him into acting on his feelings. He wanted to believe the way your eyes followed him wherever he went in a room meant something, that your lingering touches were an invitation for more, but he could never bring himself to find out.

That cowardice, he supposed bitterly, was exactly what led him here, sitting alone at the suite room bar, watching as countless others flirted with you and you, right back.

A few times your eyes had tracked him across the room; one time, you looked as though you were about to push through the throng of people shoved into Tengen’s suite to come talk to him, but a hand on your bicep caught you and diverted your attention.

It’s then that Sanemi snaps. The moment he watches as the asshole in question pulls you against him for a slow grind, that jealous, monstrous thing in his chest rears its ugly head, growling and gnawing to be let free.

He’d hoped, for one pathetic moment, that you would push the man away, shake your head, do something that indicated you weren’t the least bit interested in him, no matter how fascinating his multi-colored eyes were, or how charming his feral grin was, but you didn’t. And the moment he sees the douchebag pull your hips flush against his, Sanemi knows he needs to get some air.

So with less grace than he knows he probably should show, Sanemi shoves his way towards the door leading out the suite and into the hallway.

Fuck it, he decides. He would go back to his room, several floors below, take a shower and hit the fucking hay. His birthday was bullshit, anyways.

He storms towards the elevators, slightly tipsy and certainly angry. He stabs a finger against the down button, his leg bouncing as he waits for the elevator to come and save him from his own party.

“What’re you doing out here, birthday boy?”

His stomach sinks to his ass at the familiar cadence of the voice behind him. Reluctantly, he turns and sees you making your way down the hallway wall, a smirk on your pretty lips and looking downright sinful in that flimsy, silvery dress that barely reaches the middle of your thighs.

That damn elevator can’t come fast enough.

“Go back to the party,” he says tightly, though he still won’t look you directly in the eyes. “Don’t let me interrupt your good time.”

You draw up short. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Sanemi only scoffs and jabs frustratingly at the elevator button, willing for the telltale ding that will allow him to step into the lift and get far the fuck away from this rager he didn’t want.

From you.

“What’s wrong with you? Did something happen?” You push, resuming your advance on him and shortening the space between your bodies. “Sanemi —“

“Save it,” Sanemi bites, and because he cannot help himself, he adds, “I just don’t particularly feel like watching you spread your legs for some lowlife asshole who can’t be bothered to remember your name.”

You blink, comprehension dawning on your face before melting to anger. “That’s what you’re so pissy about?”

Sanemi silently begs the elevator to hurry the fuck up, because now you’re only a few feet away from him and he doesn’t want you to see his fraying restraint.

You fold your arms across your chest, hip jutting out to the side. “You’re acting like a bitch because some jackass tried to grind on me? Why do you even care?”

Sanemi dodges your question with ease.

“You’re the one who fuckin’ followed me out here.”

The elevator dings and Sanemi is damn near falling to his knees in gratitude at its timing. The double sliding doors have barely finished opening before he’s already inside, jamming his finger into the button marked 26, praying it’ll move faster than it arrived.

The doors start to close but a pair of hands slam against both sides of the doorway, preventing them from joining in the middle.

You stand in the center of the threshold, eyes bright and nostrils flaring, the elevator doors half-closed around you.

“It wasn’t easy to throw this party together y’know,” you snap at him, and dully, Sanemi thinks the glare you give him is strong enough to wither plants. “Everyone went out of their way to try and make you feel special, but you’ve been nothing but an asshole about it.”

“I didn’t ask you all to do this — I begged you not to,” Sanemi retorts just as hotly, his arms folding across his chest. “I didn’t want a fuckin’ party.”

“Well, what do you want?”

the silence that stretches between you is more telling than any answer he could have given. By the way your lips part, you seem to realize it at the same moment he does, and that’s when Sanemi knows he’s fucked.

The two of you stare at one another for a moment, the weight of Sanemi’s unspoken admission hanging above your heads like the sword of Damocles.

But then, the blade drops, and it must impale you both, because suddenly your hands fall from the elevator doors and are tangling in his hair at the same moment Sanemi’s fingers latch onto your waist, and your mouths slam together in a fiery clash of lips and teeth.

The elevator doors slide shut behind you right as Sanemi presses you up against the paneled wall and slides his tongue into your mouth.

At the first stroke of his tongue against yours, you tense, and for one panicked moment, he fears he’s gone too far. But then you’re melting against him, and the way you tug on his hair and whimper his name against his lips makes Sanemi loses his goddamn mind.

Time stands still and there are no thoughts in Sanemi’s brain but the feel of your hands running down his arms, his chest, pushing under the open collar of his shirt to dance along his burning skin.

They can’t get to the 26th floor fast enough, no matter how fast the numbers tick past, bringing them closer and closer to privacy —

The elevator jolts to a stop, somewhere between the 29th and 28th floors, and does not move.

It’s just his fucking luck; the girl of his dreams is pressed flush against him, her lips at his ear as she begs for him, and the goddamn elevator has forgotten how to work. If his hands weren’t so busy pushing under the hem of that slip you call a dress to fondle the curve of your ass, he might’ve put a hole through the one of the doors.

He punches the button for the 26th floor again and again, his sanity fraying with each urgent jab of his fingers, yet the elevator still does not move.

If the idea that the pair of you are stranded in a metal box of death suspended over twenty stories high bothers you, Sanemi wouldn’t be able to tell — not when you’ve decided to turn your attention someplace else.

“What’re you —“ Sanemi’s voice is hardly more than a croak as your hands busy themselves with the buckle on his belt, fumbling and tugging until the leather fastened around his hips gives way.

“Shhh!” A press of your index finger to his lips silences him. “Birthday boys shouldn’t worry!”

Your fingers hook under the waistband of his pants and suddenly they’re following you down as you slide to your knees before him.

Sanemi’s eyes nearly bulge out of his head at the way your half-lidded gaze drifts from his face down his body, coming to rest on the tent of his briefs, jutting out from between his thighs.

Your voice is syrupy and warm as you whisper, “I guess I should let you have your first gift,”

Sanemi forgets how to breathe when you peer back up at him, your eyes suddenly round and wide; he nearly forgets how to stand when you lean forward and press your cheek against the side of his cock where it strains against his underwear.

Sanemi sucks in sharply through clenched teeth at the sudden rush of cold elevator air against the heated, sensitive skin of his bare cock, your fingers having tugged him free from the confines of his briefs.

“F-first?” He can’t stop the way the question stutters out, not when your lips, just barely gazing against him, drag from his base to his tip. The soft exhale of your warm breath up his length has his hands shooting behind him for something — anything — to grip.

You hum in confirmation, and Sanemi’s vision almost blacks out when your tongue peeks past your glossy, red-stained lips to trail over his leaking head.

“But you’ll have to wait ‘til we get to your room before you can unwrap the next one.”

Sanemi swears he’ll set the entire hotel building on fire if the elevator doesn’t start working in the next fucking minute. His vicious promise, however, fades to the back of his mind, along with every other coherent thought he’s ever had as your lips part around his head and you take him into your mouth.

“Holy fuck,” Sanemi hisses and his head falls back against the elevator wall with a dull thump.

You him pleasantly around his cock and Sanemi nearly cums right there, the vibrations from your mouth too sweet, adding gasoline to the already raging inferno of his desire.

At first, you keep your hands primly folded behind you, only allowing your mouth to work his shaft. Every time you slide up off him, you curl your tongue against the underside of his cock and every time, Sanemi has to draw upon every morsel of self-restraint he possesses to not buck further down your throat.

But soon, your hands pat their way to his, and you bring his hands against either side of your head. You hold them there for only a moment, just long enough for Sanemi’s stomach to flip as he realizes what you’re giving him permission to do.

You peer up at him with those big eyes, so wide and deceptively innocent, and he knows you’re trying to kill him.“Motherfucking — Y/N,” he moans, threading his fingers through your hair. “Fuck.”

With his grip in your hair secure, Sanemi begins to fuck your mouth. His cock slides in and out of your heat, every push shoving a little more of himself further into your mouth. You only relax your throat, your tongue still curling against the underside of his shaft in a way that makes Sanemi see white.

Sanemi’s hold on your hair tightens. “Fucking take it,” he pants, hips bucking against your face. “My little cock whore.” From his position over you, Sanemi can see the way his words make you squirm with need, your answering moan long, and deep.

Your hands flutter to the side of his thighs, and Sanemi almost winces at the prick of your nails against his skin. But despite the saliva steadily trailing down your chin and the guttural sounds choking in the back of your throat, you’re tugging him closer, your fingers inching around to grip his backside, pressing him closer and closer to you until your nose brushes his groin.

The elevator jolts with movement and resumes its descent, but neither of you notice. All Sanemi can focus on his the way his tip bumps against the back of your throat, and how your cheeks hollow against him as he ruts into your mouth.

Sanemi makes a strangled noise in the vague shape of your name. “I-I’m gonna —“

You only need to swallow around him once before Sanemi is filling your throat with his cum. With a deep groan, his head drops back, his hand splayed across the back of your skull, keeping your nose pressed against his base as he rocks his hips, his cock twitching violently in your mouth.

His eyes fly open when he feels the wetness from your tears against the sensitive skin of his groin, and he’s quick to pull out of your mouth. Your hands bracing against his thighs as you gulp down air in heavy, shuddering gasps.

“Fuck — I’m sorry,” his hands smooth worryingly over your hair. “That was too rough, I’m so fuckin’ sorry-“

Your head snaps up, and Sanemi feels a brief moment of panic at the sight of your mascara, streaked down your cheeks from an onslaught of tears. Bht then you’re smiling at him, a big, triumphant, radiant smile, and Sanemi feels almost as dumb in the head as he had when your mouth was around his cock.

The elevator slows and Sanemi hastily tucks himself back into his pants. The moment his belt is refastened, his hand is on your arm, gently guiding you up to stand right as a ding! sounds, and the doors slide open to reveal the 26th floor.

You step out first, turning back to him expectantly. “Well? What room?”

Sanemi’s heart falls to his ass as he beholds the assured confidence blazing in your eyes. “2602,” he manages to croak.

You tug him out of the elevator and for a few moments, he’s dumbstruck by his good fortune. It almost feels like a dream, that your here, leading him down the winding hallway of this oversized and overpriced hotel, eager to get back to his room and do whatever the hell it is that’s lit that fire in your eyes.

Sanemi’s awe is short-lived, replaced by a crashing wave of need and boiling desire, hot and furiously bubbling under his skin. His hand tightens around yours and he jerks you around, spinning you until you’re caged tightly between the hallway wall and his chest.

His mouth attacks your neck, biting and sucking his claim into your skin, no matter how temporary. Your leg hikes up to hook around his hips, your foot pressed against his calf, and it seems neither of you care that you’re very much still on an open hallway as opposed to the privacy of his hotel room.

“I’m not holding back with you,” he whispers against the hollow of your throat. His hands slide hotly down your sides, fingers toying under the absurdly short hem of your dress, kneading just beneath the curve of your ass. “You asked me what I wanted — I want this. You.”

Your sultry giggle in his ear chokes off as Sanemi’s finger dips under your ass from behind to run firmly over your clothed slit. A breathy fuck falls from his lips as he feels the wetness seeping through the fabric of your underwear.

“That’s your main gift,” you’re tugging on his hair again until you’ve pulled him away from your throat so that you can slant your mouth over his. “Me. However you want me.”

You take his bottom lip between your teeth and suck, and Sanemi swears he’s died and gone to heaven. “As many times as you want.”

“And in whatever positions you want.”

Sanemi has never been a particularly religious man, but he thinks he’s about one nanosecond from dropping to his knees in worship of you.

Sanemi wastes no time in hauling you over his shoulder, throwing any and all cares to the wind of being seen as he slaps your ass and books the remaining trek back to his hotel room. Youre lucky his room is only around the corner, given that you won’t stop groping his ass.

Somehow, Sanemi manages to fumble for his keycard and swipes it, and he has you inside his room and pushed up against the door before it even fully latches shut.

You’re moaning and panting just from his hands, and Sanemi can feel himself already growing hard once more. His lips are feverish as they roam from your lips, to your neck, and down to the hem of your dress concealing your soft breasts from sight. His hands are even greedier, bunching the tissue-paper-like fabric of you dress between his fingers as he explores the curves and dips of your body.

“God you feel so fucking good,” he mutters against your lips between kisses. “I can’t get enough of you.”

From the way your hands drag down his chest, fingers sliding between the undone buttons of his shirt to explore his chest, he knows you’re just as starved as he is.

With a slight whine, you push him back, breaking your kiss. Sanemi looks at you, but the question building on his tongue does as you kick your heels off, your fingers flying to the straps of your dress.

Sanemi feels locked in place by the heat of your gaze, and he swears he can feel his pulse tick in his neck. One by one, you push the straps of your dress from your shoulders, letting the satiny material fall down your waist and puddle around your feet.

If Sanemi thought he was losing his mind before, he knows for certain that he likely needs to be committed now.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Sanemi’s stare is unabashed and gaping. For beneath that flimsy scrap of shiny fabric pretending to be a dress was not your bare skin, but dark green lace and mesh and corset paneling.

A teddy.

You twist slightly so you’re looking over your shoulder, fully exposing your ass and the thong-like back of your one-piece to the slack-jawed birthday boy.

“I figured you would like this one.”

Your words knock Sanemi right off his axis, his head spinning so fast, it’s a miracle it’s still attached to his shoulders.

You’d worn fucking lingerie for his party.

For him.

You’d gone out of your way to wear something you thought he would like on the mere chance you’d end up as you were now, here in his room. You’d planned for it.

You didn’t leave him any other choice; he was going to fucking ruin you.

His hand flies behind his neck to grip his shirt, ripping it over his head and throwing it unceremoniously to the side.

Sanemi doesn’t fail to notice the way your tongue darts out to wet your lips, your pupils blowing wide at the sight of the sculpted planes of his chest and abdomen.

He kicks off his shoes and his hands shove his pants quickly down his legs, grateful that he hadn’t bothered to refasten his belt or button after the stunt you pulled in the elevator.

“C’mere,” he orders, roughly. Left in just his black briefs, he lunges forward to take you into his arms once more.

Your peal of laughter as Sanemi throws you onto his king-sized hotel bed is the prettiest thing he’s ever heard. He wastes no time pouncing on you, eager to reconnect your lips, to kiss you until you’re left as breathless and wanting as he is.

Between messy kisses, Sanemi’s hands make their way down your body, squeezing and marveling at the way your body seems made for his touch. And as if the feeling of your skin beneath his palms isn’t enough to drive him wild, you’re so responsive to his touch. Every stroke of his hands seems to bring you alive until you’re practically thrumming with want and begging him for more.

His fingers slide over your lace-covered cunt and he swears at the dampness he feels clean through the fabric of your teddy.

“Eager, are we?” He hums, his lips following down the path he traced with his hands. “Tell me what you need, sweetheart.”

Your hips buck impatiently against him as his face settles between your thighs. He grins at your desperation, trailing open-mouthed kisses across your inner thigh until he reaches your covered slit.

He lets his tongue peek out between his lips and drags it over until he reaches your other thigh, groaning at the faint taste of you dampening the lace.

Sanemi’s fingers push under the edge of the teddy, a breath blowing past his lips when he connects with your dripping cunt.

“Look how fucking soaked you are,” he says in awe, marveling the way your slick coats his fingers. “Is this all for me?”

You groan, pushing your hips down to grind harder against his hand.

“Just fuck me already,” you huff. “I’m ready now.”

Sanemi tsks softly at you. “You need to ask a lot nicer than that, sweet girl.”

Your impatient demands taper off into soft moans as Sanemi sinks a single finger into your entrance, his cock growing impossibly hard at the feeling of you clenching easily around him.

Sanemi practically trembles at the thought of sinking into your heat, of how you might feel clenching and pulsing around his length while he fucks you the way he’s been dreaming since he met you.

But while he might be pent up, Sanemi isn’t so much of an asshole that he wouldn’t make sure you were good and ready to take him.

So he simply tugs the crotch of your teddy aside and without any further teasing or torture, he latches his mouth to your cunt with a deep moan.

As his tongue darts between your folds, Sanemi realizes that all the cake in the world couldn’t compare to how fucking sweet your pussy tastes.

You cry out, his name stuttering out between a staccato of moans and cooes for more. Your hands twist in his hair, alternating between pulling his face closer to your core and pushing him away, the pleasure almost too much for you to bear.

Sanemi thinks he could get drunk on your taste. His eyes open to watch the way your face pinches, how your jaw goes slack to let his name drip from your tongue.

Your hands unwind from his hair to tug at the sinful draping of lace fitted against your body like a glove. “Off,” you whimper. “Off.”

It takes him a moment to realize what you want. But after another plea of “off,” Sanemi’s hands are already working to push the teddy down your lithe form.

“I’ve got you, baby, I’ve got you,” he soothes, dragging the lingerie off your legs. Sanemi swears softly at the sight of you, bare and spread out on his mattress, your body pliant and ready for him to use however he chooses.

“S-Sanemi,” he can’t suppress his grin at the apparent whine in your tone. “I feel so — so empty —“

He doesn’t try to hold in the groan resounding deep from his chest. Youre asking — practically begging — for his cock, and Sanemi doesn’t have the willpower to deny you.

“Fuck this,” he snarls, and suddenly your body is caged under his, his hips slotting perfectly into the cradle of your thighs. “I need to be in you.”

His lips dance feverishly up the side of your neck until they reconnect with yours.

For a moment, your kiss slows to something more sensual and passionate, as opposed to the heated and frantic kisses you’d exchanged earlier. The sigh you exhale against his mouth is the sexiest thing Sanemi has ever heard, and the feeling of your fingers latching in his hair is a sensation he never wants to forget.

Your tongue swipes along his lower lip in a silent request for entry that he’s only too happy to grant. You moan against the taste of yourself on his tongue.

Sanemi knows he’s been head over heels for you for a long time, but the way your tongue dances languidly with his has him utterly undone.

If you wanted to, he’d let you swallow him whole.

Your kiss melts into something more needy and frantic, and Sanemi feels your wetness grind down against his thigh, a pleading whimper building on your lips. With an eagerness that makes his head spin, your legs shift to lock around his waist, and one of the hands you’d had latched in his hair drifts down his abdomen until it finds his cock, heavy and hot in your palm.

“I’ve got a condom —“ Sanemi manages between desperate kisses. “In my wallet —“

But your legs tighten around his hips and your hand pumps harder at his stiffened length. “Don’t need it,” you murmur against his lips. “On the pill.”

Sanemi thinks he might pass out. “Fuck — are you sure?”

You nod, eyes bright and alert even in spite of your sleepy, fucked-out smile. “Wanna feel you, baby.”

Don’t have to fucking tell him twice. Especially not when you’re calling him baby, even if it’s a pet name you’ll only use on him for the night.

With deft hands, Sanemi flips you so that your front is pressed against the mattress. You scramble beneath him to plant your knees, raising your ass high in the air, your cunt held out in an offering he could never refuse.

He gives one of your pert ass cheeks an appreciative smack before he shuffles forward on his knees. He rests one foot on the outside of your leg, parallel with your hip, and slots his other knee between your parted thighs. One hand grips the base of his cock while the other kneads at your hip, holding you steady while also keeping your limbs relaxed as he lines his tip up with your dripping entrance.

“Unless you say otherwise, ‘M goin’ hard,” he warns, his voice rougher than gravel. “Been waiting too long to do this.”

Ever the devilish little minx, you wiggle your hips back against him, and his breath chokes in his throat when your wet heat catches him at his tip.

You look back over your shoulder and Sanemi’s gaze darkens at the challenge in your eyes. “Give me everything you’ve got.”

Sanemi decides to respond to your taunt not with his words, but with his body. In a single, fluid movement, he plunges his cock deep into your heated core, his fingers tightening around your hips with bruising force.

“Jesus fuck,” he pants once he’s fully embedded to the hilt inside your warmth.

It’s unreal; the feeling of your silken, pleasure-soaked walls moulding around his cock like you were made to take him sends a bolt lightning surging down his spine, making him shudder.

A cross between a cry and a scream tears from your throat, muffled only by the press of your mouth against the starchy blankets of his hotel bed. He’s about to ask if you’re okay, if you want him to go slow for a bit since he knows he’s a larger than average. but then you’re throwing your hips back against him, circling and grinding and mewling for more.

“Fuck me,” you moan. “Fuck me, Sanemi — please.”

“God fucking damn,” Sanemi hisses through clenched teeth. And he knows he can’t deny you, not when your whining so prettily for him; nor when your pussy feels this fucking good.

He draws back, his cock sliding out of you until only his tip remains. He lingers there, for just a hair’s breadth of a moment, teasing.

Your impatient whine doesn’t last long as Sanemi slams you back onto him, the sound choking off in your throat. He doesn’t give you time to recover; he digs his fingers into the flesh of your hips and drives his cock into you again and again, pounding a relentless rhythm into you that has you sobbing into the mattress.

“Yes, yes, yes!” You blubber, your fingers fisted into the blankets below for purchase as you push yourself back to meet his frenzied thrusts.

Sanemi can’t tear his eyes away from where his cock, shiny with your wetness, disappears in and out of you. “You’re taking me so fuckin’ well,” he says in awe. Your pussy is gripping him like a vice, practically sucking him back into your heat. “You like letting me use you, huh?”

Sanemi shifts so that his weight is on the knee resting beside your leg, allowing him to push harder and deeper into your cunt. You try to lift your head, but Sanemi’s hand leaves its place on your hip to press down on the back of your neck, squeezing lightly.

“Oh f-fuck,” you groaned, voice slightly muffled from where your face was half-pressed into the mattress. “Oh god — just like that — D-daddy, yes —“

Sanemi’s hips stutter. Daddy. No one has ever called him that in the bedroom before, but fuck if it doesn’t somehow make him harder than a fucking diamond.

Especially because it seems like it slipped out of you without much thought, your eyes too busy staring at the back of your skull as every punishing thrust of Sanemi’s cock into your pliant cunt makes your body bounce against the mattress.

He likes it. A lot.

“Should’ve known you’d have a daddy kink, filthy little thing,” he groans, his hand reaching under you to toy with your swollen clit.

You only moan in response, and Sanemi can’t help but to swirl his fingers around that nub, savoring the way it makes your thighs quiver beneath you.

The hand still pressing against the back of your neck slides up to grip your hair, and Sanemi pulls your head up from the bed. “Do you call everyone ‘daddy,’ sweetness, or just those who fuck you the way you like it?”

“Not everyone” you gasp, voice strained against the tight arch of your neck. “Just you — ah! Only you.”

With a growl, Sanemi’s arm locks around your middle and hauls you up until your back is flush against his chest. One hand wraps around your jaw, his fingers squeezing your cheeks to keep your head back as he continues pounding into you.

“Look at you,” his exhales hotly against your ear, his teeth grazing your lobe. “Daddy’s pretty little toy.”

Your thighs quake in their effort to keep you up. Your moans raise an octave, warbling out of your throat as you settle heavily against him, utterly helpless against the pleasure rolling through your body.

Sanemi’s hand drops from your jaw to drag teasingly down your torso. When he reaches your lower belly, he presses his palm flat, the pressure allowing the blunt head of his cock to rub against that sensitive spot that makes you sing his name.

“You feel that, baby?” And the whine that slips out of you is one he wishes he could bottle up. “That’s all me — that’s how deeply I’m fucking you.”

He’s practically holding you up, your limbs little more than jelly, but he doesn’t mind. He only increases the pressure of his hand, rubbing slightly over the softness of your stomach.

“And that’s where I’m gonna fill you up, ‘til you’re nice and full, hm?”

A stilted cry of his name is dragged from your lips, and Sanemi swears he’d marry you tomorrow, if you’d let him.

It’s not lost on him that this is likely a one-time thing; that you’ll likely leave his hotel room and the two of you won’t speak of it again, but he can’t find it within himself to give a shit.

It doesn’t matter if this is just a slightly drunken hook up — it doesn’t matter to him if it’s just sex. You’re letting him use your body for his pleasure, and that thought is enough to make his brain turn to liquid between his ears.

Sanemi falls back against the bed, bringing you with him, your back still pressed against his chest. He winds an arm around one of your thighs, holding it open to allow himself to continue fucking up into you with the speed of a racehorse.

“God you’re so fuckin’ tight — don’t want me to leave, do you, precious?”

He chuckles in your ear, catching your lobe between his teeth. His hand wedges between your thighs to play with your clit again, and the way your pussy flutters around him signals that you’re right on the precipice of your orgasm.

The first of the night, if he had anything to say about it.

“Maybe I should make you my own personal cocksleeve — would you like that, sweetheart?” You’re mewling, nodding frantically as you squirm and thrash atop him.

“Would you like to sit on Daddy’s cock all day, keep him nice and warm?”

“Yes!” You sob, and Sanemi’s fingers circle your clit even harder, determined to to make you cum. “Yes, ‘Nemi, please! I’ll be your good girl — I’ll be so good —“

Sanemi’s pace falters slightly at your words, a new idea — a wicked idea, forming fast in his mind. “You will, huh?”

He abruptly pulls out of you, though the anguished cry that rattles out of you at the loss of his warmth tugs at his heartstrings. After all, you’d been so close.

Sanemi wastes no time flipping you under him, hooking both your legs over his muscled shoulders until the underside of your thighs press flat against his chest.

“You’ll cum when I say so,” he shoves his painfully hard cock back into your pulsing warmth, his knuckles turning white under his grip against the rumpled blankets as he fights to keep his eyes from rolling back at the feeling of being sheathed back inside you once more.

“And you’re gonna fuckin’ look at me when i fill you up,” Sanemi snarls between ferocious snaps of his hips. “I wanna see that gorgeous face when I cum inside this pretty little pussy.”

“Yes! Yes s-sir.”

“Yeah? And who’s fucking you this good?”

“Y-you,”

He ducks his head down to nip sharply at your breast. “Try again.”

“You are — D-daddy,”

Sanemi’s pace only increases. “Still not what I’m looking for, princess,” he’s borderline cruel and he knows it, but he also knows what he wants. “Tell me whose pussy this is.”

You don’t answer; you can’t, given how slack your jaw has gone, your mouth frozen in a perfect “o” as Sanemi pushes the head of his cock right at that spot deep within you that makes you seize down on him hard enough that he sees stars.

He growls your name and when you still don’t respond, he snaps his hips particularly hard against yours.

“Say it.”

His hand shoves between your bodies, and Sanemi pinches your clit harshly between this thumb and index finger.

“Sanemi!” You wail, writhing under him. His fingers rub soothing circles against your clit, though the relentless thrust of his cock does not ease.

“That’s my girl,” he praises, and the pressure of his fingers against your throbbing nub increases. “Now cum on this fucking cock.”

That does it.

Your back arcs sharply up off the mattress, thighs tightening around his hips as your cunt clenching around him with earth-shattering force. Sanemi feels a smug wave of pride as a surge of fluid springs forth and coats his abdomen and groin.

You fall back against the bed, limp and spent, but Sanemi isn’t done with you yet; you won’t be, not until Sanemi has left his mark.

He shifts over you, his full weight pressing you down into the mattress; his hands pushing your knees up until they’re level with your chest. You sigh and hum, still wading through the haze of your orgasm, but given the way you let your thighs spread a little wider, you’re aware enough to know that Sanemi is readying you to take his release.

It’s not enough; Sanemi doesn’t want you lost in the aftermath of your euphoria — he wants you crying out for his.

His hand grips your face, your cheeks squishing together beneath his fingers as he forces your head to tilt toward him. Your eyes flutter open, bleary and unfocused before the clouds part and your attention is locked wholly on him.

“Beg for it,” he grits out, his hand smacking against your clit until you howled. “Beg for my cum.”

“Please!” Your cry is shrill and desperate, your hands tightening weakly around his shoulders. “Please f-fill me up — oh, Sanemi —“

He nearly loses it at the way you say his name, like it’s some damn prayer and he, your salvation, but he holds back. It’s not enough — he wants you as filthy and wanton as him.

“Use your words,” his words leave him in a single, inexorable command.

Your lower lip wobbles. “Your cum — please, please fill this pussy up. Fill me up, fuck it into me —“

Sanemi cuts off your babbling with a single, bruising kiss. He feels his balls tighten, and the prickle at the base of his spine grows hotter, signaling just how close he is to nirvana.

His hand finds one of yours where it clings to his shoulder, a fruitful attempt to anchor yourself, and he pulls it away. Sanemi presses your hand back against the mattress, interlacing his fingers with yours.

Your pussy flutters around him in time with your thumb stroking over his knuckle, and that’s all it takes.

“Oh fuck —“ Sanemi grunts before he feels himself explode. With a strangled yell, Sanemi’s hips slam into yours, pushing his cock as deep as it can possibly go, and his release crashes into him with mind-blowing force.

it’s the hardest and the most he’s ever come in his entire life. Nothing else has ever or will ever compare to this.

But even as his release spurts heavily inside your honeyed core, Sanemi doesn’t relent in his pace. His hips keep rolling steadily into you, prolonging his release to the point his toes curl, and he wonders whether his nose might start bleeding.

The corners of your mouth tilt up, a pleased groan vibrating loud and wanton in your throat as you feel him fuck his hot seed right into the Eden of your body.

Despite the mind-numbing pleasure of his orgasm, Sanemi won’t let himself look away. The face you make as he fills you up is the prettiest damn thing he’s ever seen.

Sanemi stays buried in your heat for several more moments as he comes down from his high, his head dropping into the crook of your shoulder. With a grunt, he pulls out, dropping down next to you in a flurry of messy blankets and pillows.

You push yourself to your side, a hand coming to push the sweat-dampened ends of his bangs from his eyes. “Good birthday?” You tease, your cheeks flushed bright red, your eyes bright.

“The best,” Sanemi agrees, his eyes scanning your face, committing every detail of you and your post-sex glow to memory.

The two of you lay next to one another for a little while, talking and quietly laughing. Neither one of you seems eager to leave the bed, and Sanemi in particular finds himself hoping today never ends.

Eventually, nature calls and he excuses himself — reluctantly — to the bathroom. When he emerges, he’s greeted with the sight of your ass, bare and exposed as you nestle into the bed, one leg kicking lazily up into the air behind you.

Fuck, you’re too beautiful, and he is far too weak.

He approaches the side of the bed, stretching out one hand to drag teasingly down your spine, until he reaches your ass, knuckles kneading the soft flesh.

His eyes flit to the small clock perched on the hotel nightstand. Sanemi’s grin turns lupine as he reads time reflected by the green-tinted digits.

Sanemi’s fingers skirt down to your ankle, gripping it firmly in his hand. He tugs you over the side of the bed until your head dangles off the edge, your hair stretching towards the ground. “Looks like it’s still my birthday, darling. I ain’t finished enjoying my present yet,” he grips the base of his half-hard cock and taps it against your lips. “And I’ve been dying to cum all over this pretty face of yours.”

—-

True to his word, Sanemi takes him time ravishing his birthday gift. When the clock on the nightstand finally reads 12:01 AM, he flops down next to you, chest heaving as he works to catch his breath.

You lay beside him, panting in tandem with him from the exertion of the night’s activities. There isn’t an inch of you that isn’t sticky as a result of the heady mixture of your sweat and Sanemi’s cum.

You feel his eyes searing into you as you trail a finger through the milky white splattered across your chest — a favorite place of his to cum, as you’d learned, second only to spilling inside of you.

Sanemi hardly holds back a whimper at the way you bring it to your lips, letting your tongue lick your finger clean of his pleasure.

“You’re trying to drive me wild, woman,” he throws a tired arm over his face, shrouding his eyes. “You torture all your hookups like this?”

He’s surprised at how quickly you sit up in bed, your eyes flashing.

“Hookup?”

Sanemi props a fist under his cheek. “Well, yeah,” he winces slightly, searching for more careful words. “I don’t expect anything from you. I appreciate the birthday surprise, though.”

Your gaze is leveled, and your voice even. “I don’t buy lingerie for one-night stands, Sanemi. That shit is an investment.”

His eyes blow wide, and he feels the erratic thrum of his heart stuttering in his throat.

“I want you,” you say firmly. “And I had every intention when I followed you in here tonight for this —“ your hand waves back and forth between your chests. “— to continue.”

It’s a miracle Sanemi is able to speak at all. “I’ll take whatever you’re willing to give.”

You grin. “Well, now that you’ve fucked me, I guess you should take me on a date.” You pause, trailing one delicate finger down his chest. “But I won’t make you wait until we’ve been on three before I let you fuck me again.”

Your hand dips below the edge of the blanket and glides teasingly over his cock, already beginning to stir once more. “You’re far too delicious.”

Sanemi snatches your hand and rolls you under him before you can blink, your answering giggle the sweetest music ever to grace his ears.

“Y’know, in other parts of the world, it’s still the 29th,” he murmurs huskily, grazing his lips against yours. “So by that logic…”

You nod, eyebrows drawn together in seriousness. “We’re obligated to keep celebrating.”

Sanemi’s lips are already trailing down your body, savoring the taste of himself on your skin. He settles back between your legs, marveling at the way your thighs fall to the side so easily to accommodate his mass.

He presses a sweet kiss against your clit. “You’re just the gift that keeps on giving, aren’t you, darlin’?”

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #sanemi shinazugawa #kny #kny x reader #kny fanfic #kny sanemi #sanemi x reader #kny smut #demon slayer smut

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slayerkitty · 26 days ago

Text

BL Superlatives 2024

I knew I wanted to do a post for this, so I put out a request the last few days for people to put a few suggestions in my ask. I also asked some besties discord for suggestions as well.

Best Performance by a Road (submitted by @lurkingshan): Shan. The journey I went through when I read this. You don't know. I started giggling and I haven't stopped. Because first I was like... "by a Road?" and Road is capitalized. And I thought, did you mean OffRoad? And then I thought, no, surely they meant like... two characters having a moment on a road. Then I thought wait - do they mean like... THE ACTUAL ROAD? And I honestly couldn't decide which way I wanted to answer this, hence the giggling.

So.

You get all three, LMAO.

Best OffRoad Performance: Vee, Century of Love

Vee screaming in the stairwell at the news his grandma was going to die soon? I had chills. OffRoad let out a scream so guttural that I actually started crying and got goose bumps. I don't think this is that moment, but it's close enough.

Best Performance by a road: Shirasaki and Hayama from 25 Ji, Akasaka de (At 25:00 in Akasaka).

Hayama running after Shirasaki and them working out their miscommunication and confessing their feelings was peak BL for me this year.

Best Performance by a Road: The Hallows, Pit Babe.

This racetrack saw so much! Racing, accidents, sabotage, sex. This is one busy stretch of road.

Most daring plot? (Submitted by @toastofthetrashfire): 4 Minutes

The plot of 4 Minutes is kind of insane, where the bulk of the show takes plays during Great's "four minutes" - a period of time where his brain is lacking oxygen before he dies. It's wild. It's complicated. It's riveting.

Best Hallucinogenic Moment: Caged Again

Junior rings a gong and triggers some kind of hallucination for him and Sun, where they have a super important conversation about the state of their humanity and their hallucination is DEMONSTRATED AS A CARTOON in which they are their penguin and panther forms. It's as unhinged as it sounds and yet it was the most adorable hallucination I have ever seen. This show consistently delivers within it's premise even when it goes in unexpected ways.

Best Use of an Honorific: Jane, The Trainee

Jane wanted Ryan to tell him why Ryan was angry and switched his honorific from Khun to Phi. I actually caught this by ear myself at the time, without the subs, so my reaction was Ryan's reaction, about to lose our goddamn minds. And then Ryan wanting to use Phi for Jane from then on? I was so absolutely gone with them.

Show That Made Me Unhinged: Dead Friend Forever

This show. THIS SHOW. It hooked me with it's slasher premise. I called it "8 Stupid Teens in a Cabin" (affectionate). This show absolutely locked in it's chokehold with episode five and the flashbacks as we started to learn what actually happened to Non. I made meta round up posts (there are four of them) which I updated twice a week (I had help from @toastofthetrashfire) and absolutely did not spend hours analyzing things like back pack colors and school insignias. Needless to say, so much fun was had.

Cutest Animal Cameo (submitted by @toastofthetrashfire): Moo Deng, Caged Again

Moo Deng has long been ready for her TV debut and Caged Again was the first to step up.

Best Use of an Unexpected Prop (submitted by @benkaben): Clothes Pin, The Heart Killers

Presented without explanation, lmao.

Most Jaw-Dropping ZeeNunew Moment (Submitted by @toastofthetrashfire): THE BEHIND THE FAN KISS ON STAGE.

youtube

Best Smile That Can Knock You Out Cold (submitted by @tankhunmybeloved): Because you asked for it, lmao.

#thai bl #jbl #multiple bl #bl superlatives 2024 #bl shenanigans

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purple-obsidian · 9 months ago

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beautiful mind (18+, j'onn j'onzz x fem human reader)

⭓ warming up to write some alien sex, lemme know who wants to see part 2 👽

“J’onn… why did you change?” You ask, tilting your head a little as you watch him exit your bathroom. You have been seeing the Martian for a few weeks now, going on dates and spending time together, and tonight you finally invited him back to your place, for what you’re hoping to be a romantic evening.

It started off great, you and him lounging on your couch and talking about your week. But halfway through the bottle of wine you were sharing, he excused himself to use your restroom, and now you’re sad to see that he is no longer his normal green self, but the human version of himself that he shifts into when you two are in public together.

“My apologies,” he begins, his deep voice tinged with embarrassment, “from what I have learned of human dating expectations, I assumed your invitation back to your place insinuated the possibility of engaging in physical intimacy. I… wanted to be prepared. Please forgive me if I was bold to assume as much.”

You smile, and shake your head softly. “No, you read the situation correctly. I guess…” You blush a little, and rub your hand up and down your arm nervously, trying to get the goose bumps to go away, “I guess I was looking forward to seeing more of the real you.”

J’onn ponders your words for a moment. He wasn’t expecting this. He’s been with a couple human women before, but he never felt like they would be comfortable with him as he really is. They never asked.

“The real me.” He repeats back thoughtfully.

“Yes.” You stand up from the couch you two were sitting on and walk towards him as you explain. “I think you’re quite handsome either way, but I want you to be yourself around me. I really like you, J’onn. And I want to get to know more about you, especially about what makes you different.”

The Martian smiles down at you warmly. “If that’s the case… then I have a confession to make.”

“I’m all ears.” You reach for his hand and hold it in your own, encouraging him.

J'onn reaches his other hand out to caress your cheek gently, almost reverent in how he handles you.

“They way you’ve seen me… the way the rest of the league sees me, it isn’t actually my true Martian form.”

You raise your eyebrow in confusion. “No?”

“No. This…” you watch in awe as his human body morphs back into his familiar green features. "This, is a more humanoid version of my Martian self. When I first came to earth, I wanted to appear less frightening to humans, and opted to present myself this way."

Your mind is racing, curiosity getting the better of you. You're already enamored by him, you have been for a while now. But knowing you haven't even seen the real him yet makes your heart beat faster in anticipation. His deep red eyes look down at you with affection as he sees how excited you're getting.

"I… I want to see. Please? If you're comfortable, that is." You release his hand and bridge the gap between you, embracing the tall, green alien gently.

He accepts your embrace readily. "I haven't shared my true form with many people here on earth. I must warn you, it can be quite… jarring."

But even as he says this, you see him grin down at you, and feel his strong hands run through your hair. He knows you well enough by now that he's confident you won't be scared of him. Its one of the things he admires most about you, how accepting and open-minded you are, approaching the unknown with curiosity rather than fear.

It makes him feel safe with you.

"Maybe I'm in the mood to be jarred." You suggest with a sly smile. You lean up to place a kiss on his cheek, and wrap your arms around his neck as his hands shift down, resting on your waist. “I hope you know you can trust me."

Feeling you murmur into his neck and hold him so tenderly is affecting him. He wants to show you, to bare himself to you fully and see your reaction. He doesn't really think you'll respond negatively, but there's still something nagging at him, which gives him pause.

"I am willing to show you. But perhaps… not tonight. I don't want to ruin the mood."

You frown, and pull away just enough that you can look up at him again. "Ruin the mood? I don't understand."

"Allow me to explain. Martians don't engage in physical intimacy the same way humans do. I was hoping tonight would be about us getting closer, in a way that's comfortable for you. I don't want to distract from that. My Martian form doesn't have any reproductive organs that resemble what you're used to." He explains in his deep, calming voice that you've become extremely fond of as of late.

"J'onn, you're killing me." You groan, chuckling and leaning your head on his chest. He smells amazing, thanks to the cologne Clark recommended to him. As another alien who’s dated human women, J'onn has been consulting with his friend regularly for advice, most of which has helped his confidence tremendously in your budding relationship. "I don't know how else to say it. I want to know. I want to know it all. You know so much about humans and our way of life, but I want to know more about you. Who says our first time has to be what I'm most familiar with? I'm comfortable with you. As long as we go slow, I'm sure I'll enjoy myself."

J'onn smiles even wider at you response and holds you close to his chest, his hand still tangled in your hair. He's picturing it in his mind now, being with you and showing you how sex with a Martian can be, quite literally, mind-blowing. He would be lying if he said the idea didn't arouse him.

"Martians are a highly psychic people. Intimacy is rarely ever just a physical engagement, but the melding of two minds as well. Is that something you're comfortable with?" He asks. You can pick up the slight nervousness in his voice.

"Melding of minds?" You repeat back. "So in order for us to…be together, in that way, you'll have to read my mind?"

This does give you pause, your mind isn't exactly the most happy place. It is when you're with J'onn, but opening yourself up in such a way sounds intimidating. You're worried that he won't like what he sees. Every secret and embarrassing moment, does that mean he will know it all?

"Our minds will be connected. I will not intentionally pry into anything private, but yes. It involves being engaged together in the present moment. It allows for open communication to ensure both of our experiences are pleasurable, and so we can avoid any discomfort, if either of us wishes to stop."

The apprehension and anxiety you feel is overshadowed by your curiosity and growing arousal. They way he's holding you against him, gently massaging the back of your neck and explaining all this to you, it makes your heart beat faster and your stomach get a weird, fluttery feeling.

J'onn has always come across as very reserved and proper. Much to your delight, you've gotten to see a different side of him since he asked you out, and the more you get to see of his true personality, the more you adore him. How could you pass up the opportunity to take a peek into his beautiful mind?

Trying not to appear too eager, you lean up to place a few soft, warm kisses below his ear. "I want to try. I want to learn how to make you feel good. And I want to see the real you. Please?"

You asking so politely is endearing to him. His own pulse quickens as he thinks about how to make this work, with you not being a shapeshifter or psychic. He will have to do a lot of the work, at least the first time as you get used to him. But J'onn doesn't mind that one bit. He hopes this is the first time of many.

"Since you said please." He teases, releasing you from his embrace and staring down into your eyes. You gaze back up at him lovingly, but your eyes leave his when you notice his form shift once again. He grows a few inches taller, and his features contort and twist until his head is no longer rounded like a human skull, but elongated with ridges and small horns. His dark red eyes grow larger, and the muscles in his abdomen morph and change, causing his body shape to be slightly more… alien. There's no other word for him. Its different. He's unlike any creature you've ever seen.

But there's still an elegance about him. You don't find it unnerving or scary, but mesmerizing. Before you can stop yourself, you reach out to graze your fingertips over the green skin of his chest, marveling at how smooth and firm it feels. You trace the ridges and muscles, exploring him with your hands and familiarizing yourself with his true form.

"Is it safe to assume, you don't find my body off-putting?" He asks you with a chuckle. He can see the fascination in your eyes, but he wants to hear you say it.

"You're beautiful." You blurt out, now caressing him with both hands, slowly trailing them higher until you're reaching up to touch the small, blunt horns along his head. "Were all Martians as handsome as you? Or were they each different, like humans?"

Your flattery leaves him beaming, albeit slightly embarrassed. He places his hand over your own, holding it more firmly to the side of his face. "Like humans, a Martian's true form may vary in size and appearance. But on Ma'aleca'andra, we focused more on ones inner self, valuing beauty of thought over physical appearance."

"Please, show me." You ask in a low, almost desperate tone. You want to see his beautiful mind. You want to know all of him, and J'onn is happy to oblige, picking you up gently and taking you to your bedroom.

⭓ part 2 is out now, click here to read.

#[purple-obsidian]#dc comics #j'onn j'onzz x reader #j'onn j'onzz #martian manhunter x reader #martian manhunter #alien lover #justice league #j’onn j’onzz x you #martian manhunter x you #part 2 coming soon

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maple-the-awesome · 1 year ago

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You Sacrifice Yourself for Them Part 1/3

Part 2 || Part 3

Pairings: Legend, Sky, Time x GN Reader

Requested by anonymous: HIIIII OMG I JUST WANRED TO SAY i lovelovrloveloveeeee the way you write so much!!!!!!! ur recent loz post had me kicking and squealing in my sear hehehe T_T could i request a scenario with the chain in a situation where the reader sacrifices themselves to protect the boys? im imagining things begging the enemy to take them instead, protecting them from a hit or even something funny like taking the blame for a mistake they made!!! id love to see some angst from you!!!!! THANK U AND HAVE A GREAT WEEK!!!!!💖💖💖💖

Zelda Masterlist 💙 Fandom Masterlist

Shit. Shit. Shiiit.

This was not how this day was supposed to go. This was not how this dungeon was supposed to go! The group calls him 'Veteran' for a reason. He's done more dungeons on his own than the lot of them combined. He's quick on his feet, able to complete the most complex puzzles like child's play, and barely breaks a sweat against the foes that lurk in every damp shadow. Anymore, dungeons are easy (too easy, maybe, compared to some of the rougher...emotionally draining parts of his journeys).

This was supposed to be just as easy. He had no shame in bragging or flexing his skills, yet all that has officially flown out the window in a way that one could deem quite literal, actually. A quick whiz of air and an echoed shatter that would've reminded him of the wonderful sound of broken pottery if not for how horrifying it was in true comparison. No, that sound was far from exhilarating, especially paired with the image of you falling sideways like a lifeless doll, pieces of tile bouncing off your head and exploding in the air like fireworks trailed by crimson.

Legend isn't sure if he managed to catch you in time. He probably did, but in his panic he feared you might've hit your head on the floor as if that's not exactly what already happened to knock you out in the first place. Damn floor tiles! Usually they're just embarrassing annoyances when prepared for them, but that's the problem: he wasn't. When those dangerous squares came flying at him at a blurring speed, he expected to take on the hit, not for you to shield him with your own body. What in Hylia's name were you even thinking?!

For what feels like hours but is really only a few seconds, Legend's mind runs rapidly with petrified thoughts: Are you dead? Did he just let you die for his sake? It's supposed to be the other way around if anything! He's the world's punching bag, not you. You're…too special for any of that…

"Hylia, t-that hurt..." Legend snaps out of it only when you groan, barely able to open your eyes against the blinding light of the torch - the only light in the room - which has long been abandoned behind both of you.

"Are you kidding me?! Are you stupid or something?! What the hell were you even thinking doing that?! Do you know what could've happened if you got hit hard enough or at the wrong angle?! You could've been given a concussion, put into a coma, o-or -"

"- But it could've ruined your pretty face."

Legend’s words choke in his throat as he stares at you as if you've suddenly grown several heads...that or he has just now realized you're the biggest idiot in Hyrule, who knows? Clearly, you're still in a daze yourself, head wobbling around as you blink rapidly with pupils dilated wide. Maybe the whole concussion thing can't actually be ruled out quite yet.

"...Stupid..." Legend mumbles under his breath with a click of his tongue as he looks away from you, "...What about your face then?"

"Awww. You think I'm pretty, too?"

He huffs instead of answering, carefully helping you up before draping your arm over his shoulders and pulling you securely against his side where he can better keep you from stumbling off into something or, Hylia forbid, trip face first into the ground, causing more damage aside from the goose egg already bruising your forehead and the line of blood dripping down it, "We need to get you to the Traveler. ‘get you fix up.”

"Huh? But what...what 'bout the dungeon?"

"We can come back later. The treasure at the end probably isn't worth it anyways if floor tiles are what's guarding it."

You hum distantly, dropping your head directly against his without any notice to the way this makes his cheeks flare unwillingly, "...Hey Legs?"

"What?"

"Can you please not tell anyone I got beat up by pieces of floor?"

Legend snorts and pretends to think your question over, "Hmm…In light of you saving my life, I guess I can keep that promise."

"Thanks, bun."

"You know, on second thought, maybe I won't."

Sky awoke in a pleasant mood that was only made better upon remembering his current whereabouts. He had a wonderful dream about being back home during peaceful times, and while disappointed to leave such a relaxing feeling, at least he found himself still in that cozy little inn the Chain decided to stay at for the night. What was better was that it appeared to be rather early. The sun was barely shining through the window, only barely peeking over the village roofs, and the room itself was silent aside from the sound of some snoring which confirmed that the rest of his roommates were still fast asleep, thus Sky figured there would be no harm in dozing off for a few extra minutes until he hears someone else get up for the day…That was his plan, anyways…

"...Hey Sky?"

"Mmm?"

"You, uh, know there's only ten minutes until eight, right?"

In a blink of an eye, Sky shoots straight up, suddenly not feeling so tired. Rubbing his eyes and bearing through his new headache, he's horrified to confirm that you must be right. The window is now glowing in a bright gold, showing a bustling little village outside. You, yourself, are already dressed in your tunic, hair done and ready to go. Legend and Wind, who had been your other roommates last night, must follow the same status seeing as neither of them nor their belongings are here anymore. It's just you and Sky.

In an instant, he leaps out of bed, nearly tripping yet recovering as he hurries to find his own belongings which seems a lot harder to accomplish in his panicked state compared to any other day. You, meanwhile, replace his spot upon the bed, sitting down there with an apologetic look, "I would have woken you up sooner, but I wasn't sure if you were purposefully sleeping in."

"You're alright - uh, thank you for waking me up at all," Sky backtracks when he remembers he had folded his tunic under his bed, kneeling down to grab it along with the rest of his belongings stuffed under there, "Where's the Vet and Pirate?"

"Already at breakfast. Wild dropped by a little while ago to say that it would be ready soon. I'm sure the others are already digging in."

"Crap."

"I'm sure there'll be enough left for us regardless. He always makes so much whenever we stay somewhere with an actual kitchen..." Despite Sky having worn an undershirt to bed, you still feel the need to awkwardly look away as he pulls the rest of his clothes overhead, "You must have a real talent for sleeping because the rest of us woke up to a loud 'thud' and cursing...'don't think Legend will be taking the top bunk at the next inn we reach."

Fully dressed, Sky's first order of business should really be to rush downstairs instead of testing his luck with angry companions, but he takes the time to spare you a glance instead, "Why haven't you gone downstairs yet?"

The question, once thought of, weighs heavy on his mind. You just said that you awoke with the others, however you chose to stay here and risk getting in trouble yourself for tardiness rather than joining them.

You merely shrug as if it’s of no concern, "I figured I'd wait for you. Like I said, I didn't know if you were purposefully sleeping in and I would've felt worse if I fully gambled on that, leaving you to sleep until noon and suffer Time's wrath."

Sky fidgets and stares down at his feet, although when he opens his mouth to say something, you're standing again while pushing him towards the door, "But let's not push our luck too far, alright? Time was pretty adamant about getting out of here at a decent time."

Yes, he was. He had made a strict point of that last night which is further emphasized by the fact that he is already standing at the bottom of the staircase by the time you both appear at the top of it. It appears that he was just about to make his way up to scold you, but since you've so kindly met him halfway, he can do that from here, "I assume there's a good reason for sleeping in yet again, Skyloftian?"

Sky gulps under the Old Man's glare, prepared to take on whatever punishment that will soon follow seeing as he's officially reached his limit of making the entire group late, however as quickly as he begins to dread the thought of taking on an extra watch for the night or doing a supply run with his own rupees, you're beating him to an explanation, "It's my fault, actually. I had a rough night and didn't realize what time it was until Sky woke me. If he hadn't waited for me, he wouldn't have been late so don't be too mad at him, okay?"

"That's not -" Sky's head whips towards you in surprise, however he falls silent when you give him a look that commands it.

Time hums, glancing between the two of you without much sign that he believes your lie. He has no reason to considering that Wind had already mentioned you were up and at 'em this morning. Perhaps if you had crossed his path earlier for this conversation, he would’ve been more inclined then to point this out, forcing you to confess the truth, although it’s five minutes till eight now meaning he'd be wasting time none of you have to argue not to mention he really doesn't care so long as everyone’s ready to go.

"Well, since you're both technically down here before eight, I'll let it slide this time," He narrows his eyes at you both, taking some sort of pride in how you each bow your heads shamefully, however that's the extend of it before he turns his heel, "But it's up to you to savage yourselves breakfast before Wild packs it up and I still expect you all to be out in the lobby by eight sharp, not a second later even if it means you have to go without a starting meal for today."

"Yes, sir!"

"I'm okay. Worry about the Old Man first."

"Clearly you're not fine. Your arm -"

"- I've had worst -"

"- That doesn't matter. You're still injured."

This argument isn’t going anywhere. Anyone in the group could see that, but are they brave enough to point it out? Considering the fact that they all stand by in awkward silence, probably not.

The last battle was a tough one which may be a bit of an understatement considering Time and you both walked away with some serious wounds to show for your victory. Time had been knocked in the head by a Moblin club, thrown backwards where he then laid unconscious for several moments only to awaken with a gash in the club’s former place, although still a far less visible injury compared to yours. You didn’t miss the way Sky kept gagging when helping you back into camp, unable to so much as glance at the terrible result of a Lizalfos sword slicing through your arm. Provided the extent of these soon-to-be scars, everyone would expect (and hope) that the two of you would be eager for Hyrule’s healing magic, however they were quickly proven otherwise.

“So? I’ll live.”

“Not without medical attention.”

“I’ll take a potion.”

“I thought you didn’t have any left?”

You curse to yourself before sticking your nose into the air with a stubborn change of subject, “You know, last time I checked, a head injury is a lot more serious than a simple cut!”

Time ignores your claim, feeling his face grow warm in irritation (or maybe that’s due to the fresh blood dripping down from his hairline), “You call that ‘a simple cut’?”

You merely shrug, readjusting the crimson cloth you currently press to the nasty slice that parts your skin directly down from your shoulder into your bicep. It no doubt burns like the fires of Death Mountain which you don’t hide despite your persistence in turning down any aid. Your face is scrunched into an expression of pain, a hiss leaving your hips whenever you move the cloth or your arm in any way, yet you still meet Time’s eyes with no sign of budging.

“Twilight, tell him he’s being ridiculous!”

The poor farm boy leaps in place when you both end up turning his way. Although not another word is said by either of you, he understands that voiceless command of Time’s stone cold glare: he isn’t to say a word - not a word - that could be taken as a form of agreement towards your cause. He’s to be a good boy and point out that your arm isn’t going to fix itself, thus you should be the first to be tended to by Hyrule. Of course, he cares about your wellbeing and would definitely side with his mentor and his intimating ways if not for how the older male sways side-to-side with the wind, clearly struggling to maintain himself as the effects of a serious concussion start to take its toll on him.

“...(Y/n)...does have a point..." Twilight mumbles, gulping when Time’s glare darkens.

Thankfully for him and all the others who stand by with their heads down, including little Hyrule who’s been stuck between you both too fearful to make a peep, Warrior has finally had enough of this, officially having no problem taking charge with his annoyance made clear through his stern voice, “The longer you both argue about this, the longer you both go without medical attention, so please, for the love of Hylia, will one of you just swallow your damn pride and let Hyrule do what he needs to?”

There’s no instant reaction, neither of being too eager to see Warrior’s very valid point, however after glancing at you once more and noticing how tightly you’re holding onto your arm, Time sighs at long last, resulting in a chorus of others to follow, “...Fine. I’ll go first.”

This satisfies you, allowing you to relax your muscles and focus on keeping that cloth pressed to your arm while Hyrule begins working his magic to fix Time’s own injury, although as always, the Old Man has to have the last word, shoving his pouch towards you with a grumble, “At least take a red potion in the meantime. It should dull the pain.”

Thankfully, you don’t argue as he feared you would based on your initial hesitation. Instead, you huff, but ultimately dig through the pouch to locate the bottle which you pop the cork off of dramatically, “Fine.”

#legend of zelda #linked universe x reader #linked universe #link x reader #lu time x reader #lu legend x reader #lu sky x reader

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callsigncherub · 2 years ago

Text

To love and be loved.

Summary: Rooster learns what it's like to love and be loved.

Warnings: Fluff, smut, ANGST, pregnancy, loss of pregnancy, major character death, drunk driving.

Word count: 4.6k

This is a very angsty piece so 18+ minors DNI.

If there was ever one thing Bradley Bradshaw was completely and utterly sure of, it was that he was going to spend the rest of his life by himself. And he was okay with that. He grew up knowing the damage it causes losing the one person you love the most, he saw it first-hand. He saw what his mother had to go through and how difficult it was to be in so much pain but carry on in life. Working, paying the bills, and having the responsibility of a child was challenging enough, but doing all of that whilst grieving was something he could never begin to comprehend. And something he would never want to put someone through.

Nevertheless, he had a great childhood. Living in a small, white beach house along the coast with his mother, he has fond memories of growing up. Baking cakes on Sundays and licking the batter off the spoon, singing corny 80s songs in the car with his mother on the way to school and building model planes with Mav. He had a lot of friends growing up, he was surrounded by love. But Bradley always felt like a part of him was missing. His father.

His mother always told him stories about his father. With Bradley sat across her lap outside on the porch swing, flicking through several photo albums and fiddling with a picture of the three of them when Bradley was born, she would tell him about how they met and fell in love, how much he loved flying with Mav, the family holidays they went on when Bradley was a young child, how Goose nearly passed out when Bradley was born, and how much Goose absolutely adored his son.

At first, Bradley loved hearing these stories, he used to beg his mother to tell him more, but as he entered his early teens, all he felt was anger.

It all started when he woke up one morning to make grab his mother a tea and noticed his father’s favourite mug still at the back of the cupboard, slightly dusty and derelict. He wondered what it was still doing there if no one had been or was going to use it. The next week he was clearing out the attic looking for things to sell so he could save up for the latest CD player when he came across a box with ‘Nick and Carole’ scribbled along its side, filled with old videos, wedding pictures, his mother’s wedding dress and an album entirely dedicated to his father’s journey of being a naval aviator. But underneath all of the memories held in this box were a pair of boots and a khaki uniform.

A few days after finding the box in the attic, he was on his way out to school when his mother noticed his sweater was getting a bit too tight on him and handed him one of his fathers and when he came home, he found a pile of clothes on his bed that he could only assume also belonged to his father. Curiously, Bradley found himself eyeing the pile of shorts and sweaters when a bright yellow caught his eye and he rummaged through the pile, only to pull out the ugliest looking Hawaiian print shirt he’s ever seen.

“Your father loved that shirt. God, you look so much like him Bradley.’ His mother said, standing at the doorway with tear filled eyes.

Bradley lay awake in bed that night hit with an irrepressible amount of emotion, surprised that despite his father passing whilst he was so young, he could remember so much. He thought about the mug, and how his father would drink his coffee from it every day at breakfast, Bradley sat on his knee eating bacon and eggs and his mother ranting about how she doesn’t understand how he could drink black coffee and enjoy it. He remembered waiting on the front porch every day for his father to return home from work and hearing the same uniform he found a week ago, he remembered the sound that those exact boots would make walking up the steps to their home and the joy he felt to see his father. And as Bradley sat up in bed, mind running 100 miles per hour he caught the vibrant shirt hanging on the back of his desk chair and caught the memory of their last family holiday together. The holiday where he built sandcastles with his father, went swimming in the ocean with his mother, it was their final moment of happiness before disaster struck.

For a moment, Bradley smiled with fondness at the thought of his father. But the grief that came after his momentary happiness hit him at full force, like a punch to the gut. He was hit with the realisation that he’d never see his father drink from that mug again, he’d never hear the clunk of those boots walking up the front porch after a long day at work, he’d never see his father wearing his collection of ridiculous Hawaiian shirts again. And at that, he struggled to understand why he was only now beginning to feel this way.

The funny thing with grief is, it never truly goes away. It comes and goes. Sometimes, some days, it’s easier to handle but other days it’s a tough pill to swallow and Bradley was angry at how much time he already lost with his father and how for the rest of his life, there’s always going to be a part of him that’s empty.

So, Bradley spent his teens in a much more reckless way than his mother thought was natural. The late nights, the disobedience, the parties, the girls, coming home high early hours of the morning because he couldn’t face the way he felt.

In all honesty it broke his mother’s heart, and he could see that. It hurt him to hurt her, but there was something that held him back from ever being able to change and truth be told, he was terrified. Maybe it was the fact that it was easier to run away from how he felt rather than face it head on, or maybe it was self-preservation – that if he pushed his mother away then he would hurt less. He felt the burden of being his mother’s only child. Everything she went through whilst having a son to look after as well. And if anything were to happen to his mother, he thought maybe it would be easier to cope. But deep-down Bradley thought that if he followed in his father’s footsteps of joining the Navy, maybe he’d feel that little bit closer to him. Maybe he wouldn’t be so self-destructive. Just maybe, he would make his parents proud.

There are a lot of things Bradley regrets in his life and the way he acted over his teens was one of them. He wanted forgiveness for the amount of time he missed out on because of his incessant need to prove a point he couldn’t even understand until he did. He would be better off alone, forever.

At 18 Bradley lost his mother to a gruelling bout of breast cancer. It was the most difficult thing Bradley had ever gone through in his life. He couldn’t bring himself to admit that she was gone, that he would never see her face again, sing along in the car with her, feel her warm embrace. And to this day, he still remembers the last thing she ever said to him, lying in the hospice where she took her last breath, a long night of waiting ahead of him.

“Bradley, your father loved you so much. I love you so much. Make us proud, my beautiful boy.”

Those were the last words he heard his mother speak, but he could see in her eyes that she forgave him, that every word she’d just said was meant with the truest of intentions and enough love to conquer the world.

After that day, Bradley made it his life’s purpose to serve his country by joining the US navy. His life consisted of his F-18, ready meals, drinks at the Hard Deck and returning home to the barracks – alone. He didn’t fall in love, he never allowed himself to. Sure, he’s had hook-ups in the past, he’d had girls tell him they loved him, but not once had he ever said it back with meaning or said it back at all. He was okay with being alone, because he had no obligations, he wasn’t important to anyone and he was happy with it being that way because he prefers being by himself rather than forcing a love and marriage and kids – pretending to be a person that he isn’t, when he knows it’ll only be temporary.

What is there to lose?

That’s a simple enough question that Bradley thought he knew the answer to. Nothing, he had absolutely nothing to lose. No wife, no children, not even a pet.

But then he met the most beautiful soul and something in him couldn’t quite stay away.

The Hard Deck was always busy on a Friday night, but this one night in particular was jam packed. Celebratory drinks were held for the success of the Uranium Mission and Bradley, though ecstatic that the mission was over, and that he was alive, couldn’t shake the feeling of misery that he felt deep down for realising just how precious life is and how he’s only getting older – and lonelier. He never thought his perspective on how he would spend the rest of his life would change and so he sat at the bar, beer in hand wallowing in self-pity. Downing the rest of his beer, Bradley stood up and slammed some cash on the bar ready to call it a night, about to head off towards the door before colliding against the bar with a thud.

Bradley groaned at the impact, not in the mood to deal with anything else tonight that could worsen the foul mood he was already in.

“Oh my god! I am so sorry. Are you okay?” You screeched, looking up at him with alerted eyes, cheeks flushed a rosy tint – partly out of embarrassment, and partly from the alcohol you’d consumed, meeting up with your friends from work after a busy week.

As soon as he heard your voice, he didn’t need to look down at you to know that you’d be the most beautiful woman he’s ever met in his life. But still, he couldn’t help himself and as his eyes met yours, he immediately knew wanted you. He wanted you in every way possible. Everything already felt so different. Too stunned to speak, and his mind blank, you were perfect to him.

Now, Bradley didn’t believe in fate, and he certainly didn’t believe in love at first sight, at least not until the night he met you. But that all changed so fast, and Bradley found himself sat at the bar with you until closing, drinking beer after beer – misery long forgotten and the beginnings of the most beguiling relationship starting to bloom.

The relationship progressed fast.

You both went on your first date a week later. It was simple, but perfect. Bradley picked you up from your apartment with a bunch of flowers, dressed in his father’s shirt - the same shirt he couldn’t bear to look at when he was younger. You answered the door in a white sundress, hair falling naturally around your shoulders with a bright smile on your face that had Bradley’s heart racing. After having to endure a 10-minute interrogation from your best friend, you followed Bradley out to his Bronco and drove down to the beach where you had a picnic and watched the sunset, lying on your backs next to each other on an old picnic blanket on the sand.

Your face mirrored his own, both of your hearts pounding against your chests, synchronised with one another. Hands shaking and smiling at each other through tight lips, breaths shallow, bodies vibrating. Eyes ablaze with a burning desire, thinking of all of the possibilities, reserved from seeming too eager to admit how both of you felt, feelings reciprocated. But knowing, you were it for each other.

About a month into your relationship with Bradley, one torturous month of being nagged by the squad on when they were going to meet you, but one incredible month spent with you, he took you to the Hard Deck to meet up with his friends for drinks. All was going well, and Bradley felt content in knowing you were already comfortable around the people he considered family.

“Bradshaw! You never told us your girl was that hot.” Hangman stood next to him, handing him the darts, a smirk on his face.

“Shut up Bagman, just because you lack the brain capacity to keep a girl around for more than a week.” Phoenix scoffed, slapping him on the chest before patting Bradley’s arm sympathetically.

Bradley knew to pay no mind to Jake, but as he watched you laughing with Bob and Javy by the bar in a pretty pink sundress, sipping on a cocktail too sweet for him to fathom, he couldn’t help but let the insecurities creep in. He felt like the luckiest man alive to be your boyfriend, and he was proud to call you his girlfriend, but he constantly carried that heavy burden of how he felt about himself with him. Sometimes he could supress it, put on a brave face and everyone sees him as the most confident person in whatever room he’s in. But Bradley could never truly talk about how he felt, every syllable of every word that’s willing its way out of his mouth, pushing his head further underwater – looking in the mirror and seeing the scars along his face and neck, carved into his skin like a malediction, something he was precariously wishing he could remove.

“Hey Roos, you okay?” Bradley didn’t even realise you’d made your way over to him until he heard your voice and felt your hand reach up to smooth over his hair, so transfixed on his inner thoughts.

He hummed, kissing your forearm, and then talking your free hand in his own. Just seeing your face with concern written all over it was enough for his heart to nearly burst out of his chest.

It was well past 1am when the Hard Deck closed for good, and Bradley led you out to his bronco and put your seatbelt on. Before he could move around to the driver’s side, you grabbed his shirt and pulled him in for a sweet kiss. “Thank you for tonight, I had a really nice time with your friends. Even though Jake’s a bit of a dick” Bradley chuckled “I’m glad you had a good time and I’m happy you’re happy. They all love you.” Bradley caught himself on his words after that. He wanted to tell you how much he loved you, how he knew he loved you from the moment he saw you and how he was certain he was going to spend the rest of his life loving you. Neither of you had said it yet, but you often found yourself wanting to say it too. You both drove home in a comfortable silence, Bradley’s hand resting gently on your thigh, the windows slightly ajar and the radio playing quietly but those three words had been hanging in the air, urging to be said the whole ride home.

Bradley parked up outside and you led him into your apartment. You both changed out of your clothes, and you threw on one of Bradleys old UVA shirts that he’d left at your place. “You coming to bed?” Bradley said quietly as he pulled you into a hug and rested his chin on top of your head.

“Yeah, I just need to take of my makeup and stuff.” You said pulling away to head towards the bathroom. “And stuff?” Bradley asked and you giggled. “Yeah, like skincare. Fancy joining me?” You asked and you shrieked when Bradley picked you up and threw you over his shoulder, carrying in you into the bathroom and setting you down on the counter without saying a word. You washed your face and picked up your serums and moisturiser, talking Bradley through your skincare routine whilst he stared at you as if you had grown three heads. Bradley watched you squirt some of the serum onto your hand and rub it all over his face. He closed his eyes and relaxed his shoulders, letting out a deep breath. It was his turn to apply it to your face next and by the end of the routine you were both a giggling mess, breaths heavy with laughter. And in that moment, Bradley forgot about his scars, he forgot about all of his insecurities. He was at his happiest with you, and in that moment, he knew he couldn’t wait any longer.

Still sat on the counter, you pulled Bradley closer and rested your forehead against his looking into his eyes with such a deep admiration for how truly beautiful he was.

“I love you, Bradley.”

And there it was. Those three simple words with the most powerful meaning. Bradley felt as though the air had been knocked from his lungs, winded like the time he fell off the slide in his backyard at six years old.

“Say that again.” Bradley murmured, hands tightening their grip on your waist.

“I love you, Bradley. So much.”

And with that, Bradley smashed his lips onto yours in a bruising kiss.

“Fuck, I love you. I love you.” He repeated, over and over again until you were back in your bedroom. Placing you down on your bed, he covered his body with yours. You moaned into the kiss and gasped as he left a trail of kisses down your neck and chest. He slipped his hand under the hem of your dress and began toying with the waistband of your underwear, when you sucked in a breath, he stopped immediately, brown eyes searching yours for any kind of discomfort.

“Do you want this? We can stop baby I really don’t mind.”

“No, I want this Bradley, I do.” You said and he made light work of pulling off your dress and ridding himself of his shirt and pants before kissing you again, hooking his fingers in your underwear and pulling them down your legs. Bradley teased your clit before sinking one of his digits into your soaked pussy and kissing your hip before taking your sensitive bud into his mouth. “Fuck Bradley.” You moaned, butterflies erupting in your stomach as he squeezed your him in a comforting encouragement. Gripping his hair tightly, your climax quickly approaching you moaned loudly “Oh my god I love you Bradley fuck!”

Coming down from your high, Bradley teased your folds with the head of his cock before slowly pushing himself fully into you and you both moaned. “You feel amazing, sweet girl, I love you.” Bradley moaned against your mouth, intertwining his hand with your own before slowly rocking his hips into your own. You were a mess underneath him, whimpering and whining and Bradley took a moment to admire how beautiful you looked, the moment was so raw, the only light in the room was the dim glow of the moon which illuminating your features.

It was at this moment that Bradley realised that the confessions of love shared that night were terrifying, and they scared him more than anything else he’s ever experienced in his life. The emotions he felt consumed his body like an entity and he knew that the easiest choice he’s ever made in his life was you. Out of all of the women in this world, he didn’t want anyone else as much as he wanted you, he didn’t need anyone else as much as he needed you. You both spent that night wrapped up in each other, bodies tangled between the sheets in a state of completion, reassurance, and love. There was nothing in the world that could ruin such a deep connection.

For the next three months of the relationship, Bradley knew he could see himself spending the rest of his life with you. Moving in together, he wanted to be your new home. He wanted to build a life with you, make four walls and a roof into something so much more than just a place of residence. He dreamt of waking up next to you every morning and falling asleep next to you every night. He wanted to help you cook your favourite foods together and he wanted to clean the dishes. He wanted to argue over where the candles were kept when there’s a storm and the power goes out. He wanted you to fill him with memories of your own, pictures of your graduation, you most treasured trinkets, the spicy books you read that he pokes fun at you for when you get defensive and say that you don’t read just porn, it has to have a plot.

After years of accepting the fact that he’d be alone because he could never have someone else endure the grief, the pain, and the suffering that he watched his mother go through, he met you, and he was irrevocably and deeply consumed by you. He dreamt of the day you had a child of your own together, the beach days, the baking, the singalongs in the car, babyproofing every corner of the house he wanted that. And he so desperately wanted that with you by his side.

And that’s exactly what you both did. You bought a house together along the coast, one that reminded him exactly of the house that he grew up in, with a big porch and a swing that hung just to the left of the front door. You both packed up your lives into those brown moving boxes, messy handwriting scrawled onto the side of each of them.

Unpacking said boxes in the height of summer was a gruelling task, but one that was made much more enjoyable by the presence of each other ands by the end of the day you both collapsed on the porch swing, happy and content in each other’s arms.

“I’ve never felt as happy anywhere else than when I’m with you sweet girl.” Bradley said, nuzzling his head into your hair, treasuring the scent so not to forget it when he inevitably gets deployed.

“This is our forever baby.” You said intertwining your hand with his as you both sat cuddled up with one another listening to the waves of the ocean crashing and making plans for your future.

Two months settled into your new home with Bradley, two months of the rest of your lives. Lives that entailed lazy Sundays, coffees in the morning, walks along the beach, lingering sweet kisses amid pillow talk and making love – and all things perfect. But also lives that weren’t always bright, lives that held bickering, late night fights over pointless things because you both had tough days at work, misunderstandings, and the challenges of balancing busy days. Some days were filled with bright skies and sunshine, other days filled with dark skies and rain. It wasn’t easy, but you had Bradley and Bradley had you. There was calm and there was chaos, but you had each other to navigate your ways through any problem, together.

But sometimes, the best things in life are short lived.

Bradley spent 190 days with the love of his life.

Standing in the Hard Deck with a bunch of flowers, waiting for you to pull up after work, he fiddled with the ring in his free hand and let out a shaky breath. You hadn’t been in a relationship for a very long time, but they say when you know, you know. And Bradley knew. He knew in his heart without a doubt – even if he couldn’t find the right words, he knew that he fell more in love with you every single day. You were his sun, his moon, and his stars. You were his happiness, his best friend, and the kindest soul he had ever met. Sometimes he wondered if he ever told you enough. You never asked anything of him. You loved Bradley for who he was and never in his 36 years on earth did he ever think that somewhere in this world he would’ve found a heart like yours.

Bradley didn’t get the chance to propose. His time with you was cut short by an alcoholic who made the unwise decision to get behind the wheel of a car and take away not one, but two lives that night.

“Bradley!” You wailed from the top of the stairs. Bradley shot up from his seat on the couch and ran up the stairs tripping several times.

“What is it baby? Are you okay?” He asked, hands on his knees trying to catch his breath, not overly concerned when he saw that you were okay.

Looking at him with tears in your eyes, body shaking, and one hand covering your mouth, you raised your other hand to reveal a positive pregnancy test.

“Oh my god, honey, are you – are you sure?” He asked, reaching out to take the test from you to double, triple check.

Nodding your head fervently “I’m absolutely sure, Bradley we’re going to have a baby. Oh god”

Bradley had never been so over the moon. Yes, it was seen as too soon to some, but you couldn’t think of any better blessing, and neither could Bradley. You were both ecstatic and couldn’t wait to start a family together. And that was all taken away from him too soon. He’ll never get to meet his baby. And he wishes, he wishes so hard for the 3am wake up calls for feeds, the dirty diapers, the screaming bloody murder in the middle of the night – all so he can count ten fingers and ten toes, hear that steady heartbeat, and look into the eyes of who he was hoping to be your double. But sometimes life has other plans.

Bradley can’t say he believes he will ever meet another person like you. Someone so full of light even in the darkest of moments. Someone who loved him for him. Someone who would give so much of themselves to others and never complain. Someone who saw the good in everything, saw the good in him.

The one night he’ll remember for the rest of his life, the night you lay in bed together, Bradley’s head resting on your stomach, your hands tracing the patterns of the freckles on his back like a constellation. The two of you dwelling in the afterglow of finding out that you were both going to be bringing a little one of your own into your lives, a mixture of you both, your baby. Bradley was ecstatic but anxious.

“I don’t think I’ll ever understand the good that you see in me” He whispered.

“Bradley, its not the good in you that I see, my love. It’s the good that I see in this world when I’m with you, the good that you make me see.”

If there was ever one thing Bradley Bradshaw was completely and utterly sure of, it was that he was going to spend the rest of his life by himself. He had spent his whole life trying to push away the idea of love because he believed he would be the reason it wouldn’t work out. He had spent his whole life overcome with the grief that came with losing his parents. And he was okay with being alone, until he met you, an angel he believed his parents sent to him, to walk this earth by his side, for however long it was going to be. And despite his time being cut short with you, he had the most extraordinary and captivating experience of understanding what it’s like to love and be loved.

Taglist:

@aistash

@minichrismd

@roosterforme

@roosterscockpit

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newtthetranswriter · 8 months ago

Note

Hi, I saw that your ATLA requests are open again! Could I get a Zuko x f/reader, where they were childhood best friends until he was banished? The reader joined the avatar after running away and now they meet again for the first time? And they kinda hate each other and fight but at the same time avoid hurting each other? Thanks!!

Word Count: 1388

Paring: Zuko x reader

Warnings: Canon typical violence, probably ooc zuko (it’s my first time writing for him)

A/n: I’m so sorry it took so long for me to finish this. I kept trying and had to rewrite it multiple times cause I wasn’t happy with how it was turning out, but I think it’s good now. I hope you enjoy and remember to hydrate or diedrate.

A/n2: I just wanted to add that I changed the timeline slightly. Zuko was still banished at 13 but instead of Aang being found when Zuko is 16, he’s found when Zuko is 18. Also, yes I know they run into Zuko after the fortune teller episode but it was just the best spot I could work reader into joining the Team.

Being the daughter of Ozai’s closest advisor gave some pretty great perks, like growing up alongside Prince Zuko. Zuko and I were as close as two friends could get, we would spend most of our time together avoiding Azula and feeding the turtle ducks. When we weren’t playing we were practicing our fire bending together, again being a high ranking advisor's kid got you a lot, including lessons with the royal families firebending teachers. For the longest time it was me and Zuko against the world, but alas all good things come to an end. Shortly after we turned thirteen, Zuko was invited by his father to a war council meeting where he spoke up against a general’s plan. Having offended his father Zuko was subject to an Agni Kai where Ozai burned him and then banished the young prince, sending him on a wild goose chase for the Avatar.

I tried to go with him but Zuko pushed me away telling me I need to stay safe in the walls of the Palace. I had, at the time, agreed, but after two years of watching the ‘Great Fire Nation’ destroy the world, I had enough. One night when I knew ships bound for the Earth Kingdom were docking to pick up new soldiers, I snuck out of my room in the palace with only a change of clothes and snuck onto one of the mini ships. I stayed hidden on the ship for days, sneaking food from the kitchen when it was empty at night. The first stop the ship made outside of the Fire Nation, I took my chance and fled into the Earth Kingdom.

I spent three years moving around different villages in the Earth Kingdom, mostly avoiding any signs of the Fire Nation. If a village I had been staying in got attacked I would leave. It may sound bad but if I stayed to help, I’d only end up back in the Fire Nation and likely executed for treason so the best choice was to keep moving whenever they got close. Although that plan changed when rumors of the Avatar’s return started to surface. Taking the information as a sign to start fighting back, I packed up what little things I owned and left the town I had been staying in.

Spending a few weeks following sightings of the Avatar hoping to catch up with him eventually. I miraculously managed to catch up with him and his friends when they were helping to protect a village from an erupting volcano. After assisting them, I explained that I had run away from the Fire Nation and wanted to help them end the war. It took a lot of convincing but they eventually agreed to let me join them on their journey to the Northern Watertribe.

After a couple of weeks of flying, making stops for food and letting Appa rest, we eventually made it to the Northern Tribe. Not long after our arrival in the north, the Fire Nation attacked. After trying to take out the ships on his own, Aang decided he needed to go into the spirit world in search of help. Joining Aang, Katara, and Yue, I positioned myself near the entrance of the Spirit Oasis ready to be the first line of defense in case anyone tries to stop Aang.

I zoned out of the conversation Katara was having with the Princess as she was just explaining that as long as no one moved Aang’s body everything would be fine. Right as I was about to agree with Katara for saying we could protect him, I heard a voice that I thought I would never hear again.

“Well, aren’t you a big girl now.” Sure, his voice was deeper and void of any emotion other than anger. I knew it was him. Moving closer to Katara, I motioned for Yue to run and continued to watch my old friend’s confrontation with my new friend. I could hear a quiet ‘no’ leaving Katara as she realized someone was here to take Aang. “Yes. Hand him over and I won’t have to hurt you.” Zuko said, getting in a fighting stance.

Katara responded by also taking a fighting stance. Using the distraction of the two of them fighting I moved to place myself in front of Aang so no stray attacks could hit him. Normally when fighting firebenders I would step in, but seeing as it’s currently the night I know waterbending is more powerful and so I let Katara deal with Zuko. I watched in amazement as Katara used a wave of water to push Zuko up a wall and then freeze him there.

After trapping Zuko, Katara ran to make sure Aang was ok. While she was distracted, I felt a slight increase in energy come from my bending, knowing that it was likely day break I turned back to where Zuko had been trapped. “Katara stand back and keep an eye on him.” I said getting in my own fighting stance. She let out a confused sound as a blast of fire was sent directly at her. Acting quickly I deflected the attack.

“You rise with the moon … I rise with the sun.” Zuko said not paying attention to the fact his attack missed.

Taking his momentary pridefulness as an opening, I sent my own attack his way kicking a stream of fire at his legs effectively knocking him down. “So do I dipshit.” I said as he jumped back to his feet, confusion written across his face. “Surprised to see me? Now if you want to get to Aang you have to go through me.” Getting ready for a counter attack. When one didn’t happen I took another shot, sending a ball of fire towards him.

Snapping out of his confusion, Zuko quickly deflected. “What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be safe, back in the Fire Nation.” He asked, not bothering to fight back.

“I haven’t been in the Fire Nation for three years, Zuko. I left after all that happened to you and then watching the Fire Nation kill thousands of innocent people, I couldn’t sit and watch them destroy the world for no reason.” I explained, sending attack after attack his way. “You of all people should understand that your father doesn’t care about the innocent lives lost and just wants to keep this war going.”

Up until mentioning his father, Zuko only deflected my attacks. But as soon as the Fire Lord was mentioned, he sent his own volley of attacks my way, though for some reason it felt like he wasn’t giving it his all. “How dare you speak poorly about my father. He gave you so much, let you learn fire bending from the same masters who only teach royalty, let you live in his palace, and here you are saying he just wants an endless war.”

Rolling my eyes, I continued to send attacks his way. After what felt like hours, but was probably only twenty minutes, Zuko got the upper hand. He sent a well timed blast at my stomach as I was trying to catch my breath. It wasn’t strong enough to burn or leave any lasting damage but just enough to knock what little air I had out of my lungs and send me tumbling to the ground. While I was down I heard Katara start to fight back but it was quickly followed by the sound of her also hitting the ground. Still trying to catch my breath I sat up and watched as Zuko grabbed Aang and ran.

When Sokka and Yue entered the Oasis, I couldn’t help but feel that it was my fault Aang was taken. I listened as Katara explained that we had both tried to fight him off but he got the upper hand and knocked us both down. When Sokka turned to look at me, I just shook my head. Not wanting to face the fact they all now knew I have history with Zuko and were probably thinking I pulled my punches because of it. Turning away from the group as they decided it was best to go after him and find Aang, I declined, not wanting to be caught pulling my punches against Zuko again.

#x reader #atla x reader #atla zuko x reader #zuko x reader #newt writes #answering requests

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celestial--sapphic · 17 days ago

Text

Soft skin (and soft lips)

Rating: G

Pairing: Tori Lewis/Poppy Sweeting aka MC x Poppy Sweeting

Word count: 2,119

They kissed a few days ago and Tori wants to kiss her again, but she is being a useless lesbian about it.

A drabble based on/inspired by this HC post by my very good friend @espressoristretto-patronum about her MC Tori and Poppy 💛 it was SO CUTE I immediately became obsessed and HAD to write something!

Tori Lewis’s face feels hot. Increasingly, increasingly hot.

It is not like the all-over warmth Tori feels inside the Three Broomsticks on a chilly winter day, or the heat of a freshly poured mug of coffee held against her palm, or the comforting licks of the roaring fire in the Hufflepuff common room as she dozes in a nearby armchair. No, this heat was internal, inescapable and entirely of her own doing.

Cosa stavi pensando, Tori?!

Her face is coloured with a subtle but unmistakable pinkish hue, the blush having spread across the surface of her skin like a stray blot of ink bleeding into parchment; dusky rose at the apple of her cheeks fading to a barely-there tinge as it meets her dark hairline. There is a prickling sensation just beneath the colour, a static-like sensation of self-consciousness that zipped down her neck, into her chest and kicked Tori’s previously steady heart rate into a quickened pace.

Totally unsure of what to do now, and trying to hide the utter embarrassment completely consuming her, Tori picks up a textbook at random and practically buries her face in it; hoping if she can hide herself in it enough Poppy will stop looking at her in that completely stomach flipping way she does.

Tu inutile, inutile lesbica, Tori.

•┈┈┈••✦ ♡ ✦••┈┈┈•

Until a few moments ago Tori’s skin had been unblemished, her heartbeat regular and thoughts slow – if not concentrated – as she leafed through a pile of old class notes that were proving to be entirely useless for the homework essay Professor Hecat set them on the unique biology of a banshee. She remembers the class well enough because they also practiced nonverbal spells and Tori was rather pleased with herself for managing to disappear Sebastian’s shoes and reappear them on top of the classroom’s Hebridean Black skull without even parting her lips. (The memory of his utterly dumbfounded expression as he stood there in his grey socks, his left big toe poking out of a well-worn hole, and looking up at his leather boots sitting atop the skeleton beast still makes Tori chuckle). But the bodily anatomy of a banshee? The density of its bones, how the creature’s ‘cloak’ is attached to its skin and the way in which its vocal cords are structured to produce that dreadful, heart wrenching wail across miles and miles of heathland? Her mind was drawing a complete blank.

Sat on one of the long tables tucked away at the back of the library Tori had managed to work her way through the bulk of her homework assignments during her free period – even finishing an extremely tricky theoretical problem about transfiguring a thimble into a ticking clock for Professor Ronen that was due by the end of the week. Hardworking Hufflepuff indeed. She hoped to have been finished in time to get to Great Hall early for dinner and grab the best portions of one of her favourite Hogwarts meals: succulent roasted grouse which the house elves were serving up with huge, totally moreish goose fat potatoes and finished off with a fat slab of Dundee cake. But, as the light streaming through the library’s long windows turned the tell-tale orange of evening’s approach, she was still sitting there, entirely stumped by her Defence Against the Dark Arts essay.

Banshee – like mandrakes – fatal, one of the notes Tori had written in scrappy, quick penmanship read, the last word underlined twice in black ink.

Non-beings – relative of dementors?, another said.

Black hair?, a third simply read, with an ink-drawn arrow linking it to the word ‘dementors’. What Tori meant by that, and how she could use it in her essay, she had no clue at all.

Past Tori clearly had more faith in Present Tori than she should have.

After another twenty minutes of trying to draw a connection between her notes, a textbook on dark creatures in Europe and the essay topic, the library was becoming increasingly empty with most other students heading off to their common rooms or the Great Hall. Frustrated, she longed to go back in time to that morning lesson a few weeks prior, snap her fingers forcefully in front of her own face and chant: “Concentrati Tori! Concentrati Tori!”

Adjusting the glasses on the bridge of her nose after giving her homework-tired eyes a rub, Tori was unexpectedly interrupted by the sound of a soft, familiar voice coming from behind her, sending a rush of comfort through her like a well-earned butterbeer.

“Is this seat taken?” Poppy asks and Tori turns to see her standing there with a small, shy smile. Her arms wrapped around two thick, leather-bound herbology textbooks that she is holding against her chest, the size of the books making the tiny Hufflepuff look somehow more demure than usual. Indicating to the space next to Tori on the wooden bench with a small tilt of her head, the motion of her movement makes the ends of her cropped hair – clearly wind blown from being out near the pens – dance against the space where her bare neck meets the collar of her slightly oversized yellow and grey school jumper.

Amid the light streaming from the windows that scatters tiny beams through the gaps in her hair, the way the too-long sleeves of her jumper adorably nearly cover her entire thumbs and hopeful look in her caramel-toned eyes, Tori thinks Poppy is impossibly lovely in the golden hour of the day.

They had kissed, for the first time, a few days prior. It was magical, breathtaking and Tori’s heart hammered almost painfully in her chest everytime she thought about it (which was often). But between their different lesson schedules, Tori’s Quidditch practice in the evenings and the fact they share a room with multiple other girls there had been little chance to recreate the moment.

The little jolt of nervous anticipation in her lower stomach whenever she thought about doing so though… well, that spoke for itself.

“No, not at all.” Tori says perhaps too quickly, too eagerly for such a mundane question, and mentally kicking herself a little. Scooting over, Tori makes a show of creating space for Poppy despite the fact she is the only one left sitting on the entirety of the bench. “Unless Peeves is hiding under there.” Tori adds with a slightly dry-throated chuckle, realising how silly her moving over must look in context of an otherwise deserted table.

“Hopefully not.” Poppy says with a nose-wrinkled grimace at the thought of the poltergeist, nevertheless though happily depositing her books on the table with a slight thud. “I had more than enough disruption today with a very ill-tempered unicorn. Poor thing has a toothache,” Poppy explains as she adjusts her black and grey plaid skirt and slides onto the bench, “and she was quite the unhappy customer when I attempted to give her some medicine, although it did smell like a gone-off potion so I completely understand if I am honest.”

Tori nods, listening, always fascinated by the way in which Poppy talks about the creatures she looks after; never seeing them as simple, unfeeling beasts but individuals with personalities, hopes and dreams, loves and dislikes, like any witch, wizard or muggle. The constant, excited thrumming that she feels whenever Poppy is around – like the buzzing wings of a Golden Snitch – kicking into gear.

Turning to look more fully at Tori when settled, Poppy adds: “I thought this might be where you were, when you hadn’t come back to the common room to get ready for dinner.”

“I was meant to be done but…” Tori indicates to the messy pile of notes and books spread across the table’s surface in front of her.

“No luck?”

“Ancient runes are easier to decipher.” She says with a self-deprecating chuckle.

Poppy nods, face drawing into slight thought.

“I have some reading to finish for Professor Garlick… if you don't mind the company? Then maybe we can walk to dinner together?”

Don’t mind the company?

Absolutely.

I would love that.

That would be amazing.

Ovviamente Poppy, ovviamente, ovviamente!

I–

“Of course not.” Tori chooses to reply as faux coolly as she can, hoping the other Hufflepuff didn’t notice the slightly hitched sound to her voice. “The more the merrier!”

“Tremendous.” Poppy grins, opening up one of her large textbooks – which has an intricate illustration of a venomous tentacula on the front cover – and plucks a folded piece of parchment from within that was saving her place. “I’ll be as quiet as a mouse, so you can finish your work.”

“Easy, when you are the size of one.” Tori teases.

A fond smile blooms on Poppy’s face and she rolls her eyes without malice, turning towards her book. “I certainly walked into that one, Miss Lewis,” she breathes out a chuckle.

Holding the parchment between her forefinger and thumb Poppy pauses briefly, turning her head as if she wants to say something more to Tori before thinking better of it, biting the corner of her lip a little and looking back at the book with a tiny, sideways shake of her head to herself.

It was an almost entirely unnoticeable action, half a second at most, but it makes the hairs stand up on the back of Tori’s neck. She pretends not to have noticed, acting nonchalant, fiddling with her quill and tapping the now dried out nib against one of her random class notes. The tip leaving progressively fading dots against the paper.

They sit there for a few minutes. Poppy reading her textbook, mouthing the words to herself and finger tracing along the words as does so, whilst Tori tries and fails to focus on her notes.

Her eyes drift subtly back to Poppy, watching the way her small finger delicately glides across the page, imagining the feel of that finger, three others and a thumb interlinked with her own, palms pressed warmly against each other’s. It's difficult to resist stealing a glance at Poppy’s side-profile; the soft swoop of her nose, cherub-round cheeks that are dotted with the faintest freckles and her bow-shaped lips that days before were pressed against her own.

She wants to kiss her again.

Would Poppy want that though, in this near empty library?

Perhaps she would prefer it somewhere more romantic?

The grassy meadows near Hogsmeade?

The shoreline of the Great Lake?

A brilliant first kiss is one thing but how do you follow it up for the second, the third, the fourth, the–

Would she even want another kiss?

Maybe the first one was terrible? Maybe she was terrible at kissing?

She realises she is staring not so subtly now and snaps her neck back towards the table, the grip on her quill suddenly too tight for comfort.

Does Poppy even like her, the way she likes her?

They kissed, and Poppy definitely reciprocated, but maybe…

Oh Merlino, oh Merlino, oh Merlino–

Making a decision, Tori takes a quick breath for luck and leans across the space between them, pressing her mouth to the soft curve of Poppy’s cheek. It is all together brief, a featherlight brush of her lips against skin that is otherwise soundless. As she pulls back, Poppy turns to meet her gaze in such a way that Tori’s stomach flips low and hard in her abdomen; her cheeks explode into her heat, her heart rate surges into life and embarrassment washes over her in such a way that the only thing she can think to do is grab a nearby textbook and bury her head in it.

Tu inutile, inutile lesbica, Tori.

It feels like an age, staring at a random passage about a third of the way down the left page of her textbook so entirely up close that the words are slightly blurred, her body literally feeling Poppy’s gaze upon it.

There is a shift on the bench, the redistribution of weight and suddenly the book is pulled from her grip and placed face down on the table. Poppy’s hands cup Tori’s cheeks and turn the taller girl’s red and warm face towards her, the pads of her thumbs stroking against Tori's jawline.

Poppy is wearing the same smile that graced her features after their first kiss; soft and natural and entirely beautiful.

“You are adorable,” she giggles and moves forward to close the gap between them completely.

•┈┈┈••✦ ♡ ✦••┈┈┈•

Sometime later, when Tori’s lips feel well-worn and Madam Scribner had scolded them for “inappropriate displays of personal affection in an academic environment” Poppy taps the textbook Tori briefly used for a shield with her free hand. The other far to busy being tangled up with Tori's under the table.

“You did realise that textbook was upside down when you were pretending to read it?” Poppy queries, quirking her eyebrow that Tori in a very attractive way as her fingernails drum against the cover of the discarded book which was, indeed, upside down.

“I didn’t even notice.” Tori admits.

Merlino, sono gay.

#I shall post this on ao3 tomorrow!#this was very fun and cute to write #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy mc #hogwarts legacy oc #tori lewis #poppy sweeting #fanfic #poppy sweeting x f!mc #sapphic #WLW

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hyperjellyfishfish · 19 hours ago

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Pkmn Champion Minecraft HC's (Part 1)

important notes: - this is going off of vanilla minecraft 1.21 (trial chamber update)! - minecraft mobs that are based on real animals in our world (pigs, sheep, chicken, cow, fish) are fictional creatures based on pokemon in the pkmn world! fantasy mobs (blaze, enderman, sniffer, drowned, guardian, creeper) are just more fictional creatures. - the champions have a private minecraft server together, though they are usually very busy and are almost never on at the same time. except for the off-season for each region's league or the annual in-person champion get-together they do. they reset the server every 2-ish years.

Lance || Awkward Builder * He never had a chance to play video games growing up, so was only recently introduced to the game by his fellow champions. has since grown to adore it! * Is very awkward about playing the game in his free time, doesn't want anyone to know that the Great Dragon Master is playing a silly block game. * Is one of the main builders on the server actually! he's never been an artsy person but found that he enjoys creating structures that breathe life into the server, filling otherwise empty spaces. * Lance doesn't do mega builds since he never would have time to finish them, but has done a few long-term projects over the course of the different seasons. one such project was when he built houses in the traditional style of each city in johto and later did the same for kanto. * Enjoys playing at a casual pace, not too fast but not too slow either. usually starts building before he's all geared up even. will sometimes go back to those early builds later on a spruce them up with fancier materials if he has time.

Steven || Redstone Guy * One might think Steven would be all about mining in the game titled minecraft... but he actually despises gathering resources! what makes going caving fun for him in the real world is the sense of discovery, of wonder, of working hard to carefully dislodge a rare stone he's been looking for. Caves in minecraft feel way too unrealistic for his tastes and he just can't find the same joy in partaking in his hobby in a video game compared to the joy of doing such in the real world. * also, he's terrified of creepers-- thinks they are the worst with their destructive abilities. he often finds himself wishing he could have his pokemon team in the game so they could deal with the hostile mobs for him. * Steven most often finds himself making creative redstone projects, games or challenges for his fellow champions to partake in whenever they have the time to log onto the server. * He's not an // expert // with redstone, but he understands comparators so he's doing better than most of the playerbase! enjoys improving his skills by making his own designs for farms, challenging himself to make it as efficient as possible. * plays at a pretty slow pace in the early game, taking the time to explore the world and stuff before picking a spot 14k blocks out to build his underground lair. the project he always does first thing once he's fully geared up is make a bunch of puzzles and clues to lead those who wish to find his base on a wild goose chase around the server. Cynthia was so good at this game, finding his base within a week of him opening the puzzle course that Steven banned her from the the challenge.

#pokemon headcanons #champion lance #lance pokemon #champion steven #steven stone #minecraft mention!#i have more minecraft hc's on the way #steven the type of guy to argue about minecraft cave generation #this man is NOT spending his days in the video game mines #he is spending his REAL time in the REAL mines #awkward lance agenda

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favfics13 · 8 months ago

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Seventeen Recommendations Part 1

Too Much by @hannieehaee

Summary: after a few weeks of constant overtime work slouching over a desk, you feel as if your back is about to give out on you. fortunately for you, your best friend seungcheol is a professional masseuse! unfortunately for you, you're unsure of how you'll keep your crush on your best friend at bay while on his massage bed, ass up and oiled up.

All Roads Lead Back To You by @the-boy-meets-evil

(where you take an annual cabin trip with your friends and your ex decides to join this year)

Blame It On Me by @onlymingyus

My Guardian Demon Sucks At His Job (Not Clickbait) by @shuaflix

SUMMARY ▸ just when you thought your luck couldn't get any worse, you accidentally manage to summon an ancient demon prince named jeonghan out of a scrap of paper from your statistics textbook. now, you're tasked with figuring out how to return your so-called "guardian demon" back to where he came from before he can stir up more trouble.

Chicken Run by @hansolmates

Summary; you accidentally confuse your housemate for a complete stranger, but hey! it’s not your fault, their side profiles look very similar! unfortunately your guilt gets you caught up, and you’re left in a tangle as you and jeonghan get to know each other (flaws and all) in the ultimate goose chase as you two tiptoe around your simultaneous interest and disinterest for each other

𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐍𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐘 ♥︎ by @whoreteen

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 : not being able to wait until Jeonghan gets off the phone with Joshua, you decide it’d be a good idea to get yourself off on his thigh. He makes sure you pay for that

Fall Back Down To Earth With You by @97-liners

Summary: in which your manager, jeonghan, thinks it’ll be good publicity for you to date hollywood actor and notable heartthrob, joshua hong. of course, everything would be nice and easy if you ended up falling in love with your fake boyfriend joshua, but life is complicated, and your heart ends up pulling you in another direction completely.

Twenty Two Days Before We Go Our Separate Ways (Twenty Two Days Of Not Falling For You) by @kwallanghae

Summary: there’s a special bond between you and jeonghan, and no one was surprised when you announced you were together. to you, it’s a surprise no one realised it wasn’t real.

Hurts So Good by @multiland

Summary: It’s been a while since Jeonghan and you broke up, and although you try to deny how much you miss him, no one else is buying it and that leads your closest friends to make a plan to set the two of you back together.

Cigarettes & Coffee by @gyukult

Two Drunks Walk into a Dark Room by @gamerwoo

Summary: Your friends are dead set on getting you laid, but you just want the boy you’ve had a crush on forever to like you. Of course, you’re a stupid drunk and mistake Joshua’s roommate for him, and now you’re making out with Hansol in a dark room and calling him the wrong name.

Late Night Confessions by @multiland

Summary: They say people turn into their most vulnerable selves in the middle of the night, can you trust yourself at 3 a.m. to keep hiding the crush you've been harboring on your friend?

Prove It, You Won’t by @leejungchans

summary: stumbling upon a new tattoo parlour shouldn’t lead to so many complications in your love life. that is, until you met joshua hong.

Sounds Of The Season by @junkissed + Match Of The Season by @1-800-hwahui

Synopsis | when your university’s radio show hosts a matchmaking event to raise money, you figure, what have you got to lose? the question you should be asking is, what have you got to gain?

What’s My Age Again? by @milfgyuu

Summary: Wen Junhui is sort of a dumbass but he’s your dumbass and you’ve come to realize that you like him just the way he is.

Bluff and Nonsense by @thepixelelf

Summary: “Soonyoung? Yeah I know him, you should too. He’s on the uni’s dance crew, and ever since he joined them, their popularity’s skyrocketed. I’ve met him a few times, great guy — got a tendency to run his mouth but hey, no one’s perfect. He’s smart anyways, probably knows how to deal with the consequences, right?” or Soonyoung never thought one bluff could lead to so much nonsense.

High-Rise by @sluttywonwoo

Summary: (ceo!au… ish) walking around your apartment naked has never been a problem, since you live in a high-rise and no one can see in, at least that’s what you thought…

There Was Only One Bed by @wongyuseokie

Summary: You like Soonyoung, and Soonyoung likes you. You won’t tell him, and he won’t confess either, and your friends are tired of the back and forth and after concocting an elaborate plan that leaves you to share a room with the man you’re hopelessly in love in the hopes of a confession, or at least a night of torrid lovemaking.

Roommates With Benefits by @shuaflix

SUMMARY ▸ initially, wonwoo doesn’t think much about your incessant requests to play on his xbox. however, when what was supposed to be a two-hour visit to his place stretches out for two weeks, he starts to think you’re overstaying your welcome.

Amour - Haine & Co. (Ongoing) by @wonwoosthetic

Summary: Six years. Six long years have you been working side-by-side with your father. Balancing studying at university while playing his right hand throughout it all without ever complaining about how hard it was, but rather always putting 200% into everything you did. You helped him grow the company to where it now was. And now, after the many ups and downs you have shared, he retires only to let the company get bought by some young wannabe Jeff Bezos, who thinks money and looks is everything he needs to get him through life. If someone thought you’d just let this pass and work as Jeon Wonwoo’s side chick… they would be wrong. So, let the games begin.

Meet Cute Of The Century by @lovelyhan

Summary: the last thing you expected when you volunteered at your city’s local animal shelter is to meet the hottest cat person in the world. now if only he’d just adopt one of them so you’d stop ogling him every time he drops by.

Rich Girl by @blushnote

Summary: wonwoo likes to call you a rich girl, and you hate it because it’s true. in fact, you hate a lot of things: your friends, your parent’s attitude, the way your life is supposed to be perfect even though you’re miserable. not much makes you happy, except for a punk boy who you can’t even be with.

Until My Lips Turn Blue by @euphoricsunflowers

Summary: to thank you for your gracious efforts in tracking down an attacker, seventeen offers to repay your favor. you ask for a date with the cute one with glasses.

His Favorite Color Is Blue by @euphoricsunflowers

Summary: there’s this guy in your history class who is so attractive, but he’s cold and closed off. guess you gotta fix that.

My Way To You by @wonwoonlight

Summary: You don’t remember a time when you don’t have Wonwoo by your side. But when things happen and you’re left to deal with your feelings, you can’t help but wonder if what you have with him can be framed under the name of friendship after all.

or, alternatively, Wonwoo’s been in love with you for as long as he can remember and he doesn’t know if he should be thankful or not that you’ve never suspected him for it.

Knock On Your Door by @97-liners

Summary: in which wonwoo is shy and awkward and you’re a mess. or: mingyu persuades you to trade apartments for a week. he doesn’t tell you that his roommate, wonwoo, is hot.

a 1.2k little companion piece/sequel here!

and another little 1.3k fic

Heart & Seoul by @milfgyuu

Summary: Your first love hit hard & fast but it was all swept away in the blink of an eye when your boyfriend is sent away to a Korean University after your high school graduation. Seven years later, work lands you in the heart of Seoul & never in your wildest dreams did you imagine running into the one person who’d left with your heart years ago.

To be added...

Friends Don’t Fuck by @ncteez

Your best friend of several years says that he can share a bed without being weird. Well, he’s a fucking liar.

or the one where neither of you sees any harm in fucking just to see what it’s like.

It’s All Fun And Games by @dontflailmenow

Summary: reader thinks it’s fun to troll her buddy, mingyu, for being all big and strong. and it is! except at some point it turns out maybe she’s not just teasing and they’re both into it (and each other)

We Don’t Usually Hold Hands by @gyukult

Summary: when a friend brings up the potential feelings of a fuck buddy, you’re left wondering what to do when you confirm it’s true.

Pup Code by @beefboyandbabygirl

Summary: mingyu doesn't have crushes. he likes avril lavigne and sometimes he fucks pretty girls. but you seem to stir something in him that no one else can. without the trusty girl code, mingyu makes his own code to help you fall in love with him.

My Daisy Series by @wonwoonlight

Summary: when your cousin asks you to be her substitute at SVT Inc. as she takes her maternity leave, you're pretty sure this wasn't what you signed up for.

Honey Boy by @chocosvt

Synopsis: when you graduate high school, you realize you’re not really going to miss anyone, apart from a cute boy who doesn’t even remember your name. five years later, after accepting an offer to pass the summer at a friend’s lake house, he’s standing right in front of you. the universe doesn’t give second chances very often. you’re not going to let the honey boy slip away twice.

Reckless Driver by @hengqarae

Summary: you hate racing and you don't date racers. kim mingyu loves racing, and he finds out that he loves you, too, from the moment that he first lays eyes on you.

To be added...

Divorce Child by @lovelyhan

Summary: you like to think that your most recent breakup with vernon ended on relatively good terms. there’s only one issue left to sort out: who’s getting custody of the cat you got together?

The Soulmate Service by @dkfile

Summary: the soulmate service has one purpose: to help those who drew the short end of the stick and ended up without a person to live their forever with. after the heart wrenching realization that the boy you’ve loved since you were thirteen isn’t the one meant for you, you put your love life in the hands of vernon chwe — which, now that you think about it, is probably a very bad idea.

Operation: hot girl summer by @shuaflix

SUMMARY ▸ the summer you started putting more effort into your appearance also happens to be the summer where vernon chwe's piercing gaze leaves you feeling like you're floating high up in the clouds.

To be added...

More Than One Member

7PM by @onlymingyus

F*ck, Marry, Kill by @bitchlessdino

My Heart By Your Side Forever [soulmate aus] by @wooahaes

Your Games Suck: Next Level by @onlymingyus

Whenever We Breath by @sluttywoozi Part 2

Summary: Weed always makes you a bit looselipped, especially around your two best friends, Wonwoo and Seungcheol.

Glitch by @gamerwoo

Summary: After your boyfriend goes missing and you can all only assume he’s dead, your boss assigns you a new partner. But considering you don’t want to get close to anybody again in fear of something going wrong again, living together is a lot easier said than done. However, you don’t get hurt the way you think you will.

Game Over by @lovelyhan

Rules by @smileysuh

Synopsis. Morning sex with Mingyu is always really amazing- but it comes with rules.

Bittersweet Masterlist by @number1mingyustan

Summary: your priorities have always been surrounding your education. but what happens when you ask your neighbor to help you let loose a little and just maybe catch the eye of his best friend?

Anteric by @smileysuh

Preview. when you bump into the guy that ghosted you, your model best friend and roommate, Mingyu, steps up to be your fake boyfriend for the night... and when the asshole is hired at your workplace, your other roommate, twitch gamer Wonwoo, is roped into the charade too - “polyamory exists dude, get over it.”

Filthy by @smileysuh

Synopsis. There’s something long and hard rubbing against your ass, and you can’t help but pull away from Joshua to drop your favourite lawyer pickup line to the man behind you; “Is that a gavel in your pants? Or are you just happy to see me?” “Both,” Jeonghan practically purs, his mouth hot against your neck. “Think you can handle it?”

Splashed by @smileysuh

Synopsis. Your boyfriends get home from filming, and Joshua is not pleased with Jeonghan’s behaviour during the shoot. Being the amazing girlfriend you are, you allow Joshua to take some of his anger out on you, and there are some big consequences for Jeonghan.

Inflection Point by @lovelyhan

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the-fluff-piece · 1 month ago

Text

Sanji x reader modern day AU part 4:

I just want some f***king lunch

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

"That sounds like my favorite kind of problem" you cooed into the phone, "it's a 'not-my-fucking-problem' Karen!"

Karen from finance has called again with complicated questions regarding spending positions so old no one remembered anymore.

"But you've got to help me!" Karen's voice wailed from the speaker. Fine. She's been here for 2 months and they're already sending her on wild goose chases for random information no one cares about.

"Fine. I'll see what I can do about that" you sighed. It wasn't her fault. But neither was it yours.

And you hadn't even looked at the 200 unread emails floating in the nirvana of your inbox. Maybe you should. Sometime.

The first mail you picked was a mile long conversation someone had forwarded with 'fyi', than came a few creatively phrased ones complaints from citizens about your workspeed. You decided the most productive thing right now was to close your eyes and think about last weekend.

A knock on the door prevented your daydreams from starting.

"Hahaha" you heard the fake laugh the upstairs secretary used as a substitute for "hello, how are you? I have loads of work for you because I don't use computers!"

She brought a stack of handwritten papers that you where supposed to turn into a coherent presentation for next week.

You felt your blood pressure rise to at-work-levels and your resolution to cut back on sugar lay abandoned somewhere in a gutter.

Biting into the cinnamon roll you got from the cafeteria made you feel at least a little better. You questioned your life's choices as you chewed and gulped it down with office coffee. Too bitter and too sweet at the same time.

Usually, your snack would have worked to lift your spirits - at least until lunch. Now, it tasted bland and unsatisfying. After the taste orgasm during the weekend, nothing you could get here or on the go would hold up. Yesterday seemed so far away now.

That sweet, precious cook, his loving gaze, great food; under the much too bright office lights shining dowm on grey carpets and brown desks it felt like a dream.

The only thing faintly reminding you of the last days was that you actually squeezed into a pantyhose and pencil skirt on a monday because you felt sexy. Sanji's apparent interest in that had made you bold enough to explore the deeper corners of your wardrobe. It was a bit tight around the ass, but that's what modern stretch materials were for.

You sighed and dialed up your old pal from controlling, he could maybe help.

"Hey, Max! You got a minute?"

"Sure do!" Max' voice sounded in your ear.

As you talked about an implausible booking from three months ago, there was kind of a commotion just outside your office - people walking quickly, raised voices. You could see it through a thin glass panel in the door.

This was a state department, people here shuffled around quietly and talked softly. There was either cake in the kitchen or a fire.

"I'll see what I can do!" Max voice sounded like yours a few minutes ago.

"Thanks, you're a lifesaver!" You said, still studying the scene in the hallway.

"You can show your gratitude by treating me to lunch" He chuckled and hung up. At least nizt everything in the office was bullshit. There were good people, too.

You decided to get up and see what all the fuss was about. What you saw as you opened your door was the last thing you expected:

Sanji lay on the floor, his head propped up on someone's bag as a makeshift pillow; people were standing around him, looking concerned.

"Sanji!" Kneeling down, you assessed his state: he was heavily bleeding from the nose and muttering something. You leaned closer and heard his whispers: "office lady...tight skirt"

Your face went blank immediately.

"Do you know that guy?" Heidi from payroll asked.

"He's cute, I'll adopt him!" Kate said. She was a mother of three, she could certainly handle him.

"He's just a friend with a peculiar illness. It causes him to faint randomly. Very rare. He'll be fine in a few minutes. Let's get him to the first aid room."

Two of your colleagues helped him up with his arms around their necks and dragged him to the abandoned room at the end of the corridor that had a small plank bed and some band aids. It barely helped anyone in an emergency, but at least someone could lie down.

They heaved him onto the bed and told you to call of he needed more help. You got some bandages from the first aid kit and tried to stop the bleeding by stuffiing them into his nose like little plugs.

"Hey, what?" You screamed as something pinched your thigh.

You looked down and saw Sanji's hand on your skirt, holding on.

"Hey princess!" He coughed dramatically.

"What the hell happened?" You proceeded to stuff rolled up bits of bandage up his nose.

"Wanted to surprise you! I brought lunch" He nasally mumbled.

"That's sweet, but why where you lying on the floor?" You saw the colour return to his cheeks as he recovered slowly.

"You took me by surprise!" He said.

"That skirt...the blouse...oh god..." he seemed to lose it again, but reigned his lower instincts in with sheer willpower.

"I thought...I was prepared but" He grinned like a little pervert as his hand and eyes went exploring again.

"Sanji!" You smacked his hand and he seemed to snap out of it for good.

"Of course, I'm Sorry!" He sat up and tentatively removed the plugs from his nose. "I brought some lunch! A nice Sandwich and a chocolate soufflé for dessert." He grinned widely.

"A...Sandwich?" You were a bit disappointed. A sandwich was so mundane compared to everything else he had made.

Sanji swallowed hard at the very clear inflection of uncertainty in your voice.

"I swear it's great! You'll love it!" He jumped from the stretcher and took your hands.

"And I know the perfect place for our picnic!" He cooed as his eyes got glazed.

"Let's gooooo!" He already grabbed your hand and dragged you with him - and stumbled a bit when you didn't move.

"Sanji" you said, pointing at your watch, "it's still a bit early for lunch, I'll need to get back to work for at least half an hour."

He looked as disappointed as you felt, but just like blue sky breaking through the clouds, his blue eyes started sparkling again.

"I'll just wait and watch you work!" He smiled.

"I guess you can wait here for a bit, but it's extremely boring stuff" you answered,"it's just me on the phone or typing, really."

"I've never worked in an office! This is actually quite interesting." He rubbed his chin.

"Well, if you insist..."

Sanji

He got to sit on a small chair in the corner of her office and watch her. It was in fact so small, he almost didn't know where to put his long legs.

Opting for some kind of half-crouch, his arms resting on his knees, he settled in to drink in more knowledge about her. This was where she spent a lot of her time.

He didn't get most of what she said or did, but she did it in a professional way. Her small fingers typed incredibly fast on the keyboard as she wrote emails that would have taken him probably a few hours to find the words for.

On the phone, her voice took on a Business tone, very professional.

Her desk was full of paperwork, files and books. How could she keep track of it all? Sanji wasn't one for paperwork, so this was like magic to him.

That's my cute y/n-chan, so smart! , he thought to himself. A hard worker, she needs a good lunch to keep up her strength.

The ringing of the phone knocked him out of a short daydream, where she came home from a long day at work to find a perfect dinner on the table, made by her perfect boyfriend.

He half listened as she talked.

"...thanks Max, you're a lifesaver! Next lunch is on me, I promise!"

Ok, so she talked to a guy.

Now she giggled.

"Yes, see you there. Bye!" She slammed the receiver down to end the call and hummed to herself.

So she talked to a guy and giggled. No big deal. Sanji tried to tell himself that.

"So....who's this Max?" He asked, trying hard to sound relaxed.

"Old colleague, we help each other out sometimes." She scribbled a note and began sifting through a file.

"Oh, ok" Sanji was sure this guy was absolutely bound on taking her from him. How could he not? She was so cute! He would have to...

"Alright, 12 o'clock, lunchtime!" she threw her pen down, locked her computer and was out before Sanji could finish his thought.

She punched out for lunch and Sanji could see an alarming number of overtime hours on the digital screen. This girl needed some Savoir Vivre asap.

So this took a year longer than expected,but better late than never.

Is this part the battle hymn for the overworked mid 30s girl? Yes. Is it unapologetically shit I have to deal with every day? Also yes. Is it what I sometimes envision to make work bearable? Absolutely. Your blorbo is sitting in the corner of your office and rooting for you!!!!!

#one piece fanfiction #one piece x you #vinsmoke sanji #black leg sanji #op sanji #sanji modern au #one piece modern au #one piece fanfic #sanji fanfic

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