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torturedtypewritersdept · 2 months ago

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the fire in his eyes - r.c.

↳PAIRING: rafe cameron x fem!reader

↳SUMMARY:jj maybank had done a lot of stupid shit in his life but threatening to kill you was at the top of the list.

↳ WARNINGS: mature themes, mentions of anxiety, gunshots, gun use, major character death (implied - doesn't happen), gun violence, violence, protective!rafe, etc.

↳A/N: this is a repost from my old blogs @illicitfixations, @lovelornanonymity. all of my works are being reposted to this one + the previous blog has been deactivated.

At the Boneyard, Kooks didn't have rich parents watching over their every move, and pogues got to party without the police shutting them down. They didn't have parents to bribe the law enforcement like the rich kids did, after all. It was a win-win situation. You and Sarah kept it a tight-lipped secret, but parties at the Boneyard had always been their favorites. As you climbed out of Sarah's black Volvo, you two shared a conspiratorial look, matching grins on your faces. Rafe put his arm around your waist, pulling you close to him and leaning down to kiss you on the cheek. You heard a whistle from the crowd, and resisted the urge to roll your eyes. You could feel the eyes of other partygoers on them as you all walked in, clinging to your every move. Topper grabbed a cooler of beers he’d brought with you guys, and cheers echoed from your onlookers.

"Rafe, mind if I borrow your girl?" Sarah's voice was syrupy-sweet, and Rafe shot her a glare, but relinquished his hold on you.

Without giving you a moment's notice, Sarah grabbed your hand eagerly, snatching you away.

When you next glanced at your boyfriend, he'd busied himself with Topper and the beers. Predictable.

"Look at this, Y/N.” Sarah said, out of breath as you two stopped running.

Above you towered a red buoy, the kind designed to ward off the big trawlers and cargo ships when they came a little too close to shore.

“You can see it all from up here.”

You heard footsteps, and glanced over her shoulder, seeing Topper advancing towards you two.

"Your bitch is here.” You teased, and Sarah glanced over her shoulder.

"Shut up."

"Sarah! Be careful!" Topper hurried over, worry plain in his voice, and you rolled your eyes.

"I'Il leave you to it.” You called out, and Sarah smiled down at you, waving her goodbye.

You crossed your arms around yourself, looking at the scene around you. There were people

everywhere, Pogues and Kooks in distinct groups,

miniature versions of the Cut and Figure Eight.

"Looking hot as always, princess.” A voice whistles from the side.

You turn your head, seeing JJ trailing his eyes up and down your figure. You roll your eyes, flipping him off with a fake sweet smile, then walking away.

You made your way to your friends - Rafe’s arms calling your name. You belonged in them like the wind in a hurricane, one just simply couldn’t be without the other.

The journey across the beach and into the arms of the boy you loved was long and grueling, your feet felt like lead as they drug against the cool of the sand. The promise of Rafe’s touch was enough to make you keep going as your eyes raked over his form at a distance.

He was laughing with his friends, a yellow shirt gripping his biceps and pink board shorts wrapped around his thighs. His feet were exposed against the sand and a baseball cap sat backwards in his head. You came up from behind him, wrapping your small arms around his middle, trailing your fingers up around his pectoral muscles.

“Can I buy you a drink, handsome?” You whispered into his shoulder, not tall enough to reach his ear. You felt his muscles relax against your touch.

“I’m pretty sure the booze is free, we’re at a kegger. Plus, I don’t think my girl would like that very much.” He replied with a smile, turning around to bring you into his chest. “Hey, pretty girl. Missed you.”

Suddenly, Rafe's grip on your waist tightens a bit and a scoff slips from his mouth. It's not long before you notice what forced the change in his

demeanor. Two Pogues, JJ and you couldn't quite remember the other boy’s name, but you recognized him as a friend of Kiara’s.

"Just walk, don't look at them.” You hear the unknown boy whisper to JJ and it almost brings a smile to your face.

"How do you walk past Kooks and not look at them in all their fucking glory?” The sarcasm seeped from JJ’s lips, purposely making his voice loud enough for you all to hear.

"Hey, princess. When you get bored of this polo wearing asshole..." his words directed toward you as his holds his hand up to his ear with the phone gesture, "call me," he mouths.

His friend immediately pulled JJ further in the opposite direction before Rafe could so much as

even think to put his hands on him.

"Don't.” You place your hand on Rafe's chest, as he noticeably gets angry. He just glances down at you in confusion. "His time will come.” You reassure your boyfriend, your smile almost as menacing as the one now on Rafe's face.

He simply nodded along to your words, letting his grip on your waist finally lighten up a bit.

You and Sarah were growing bored as your boys were talking about perfecting their swings for what felt like hours upon hours and you two were looking for any excuse to retreat back to the keg.

“Sarah and I are going to get another drink. You guys want anything?" You ask, backing away toward the keg already.

“Nah, I’m good.” Kelce replies, Topper and Rafe agreeing all too intrigued with their conversation about that God forsaken sport.

You just shake your head and the two of you start walking towards the keg. Your walk was pretty peaceful, but of course that couldn't last for long. You watched as JJ walked in your direction.

"Y/N L/N." Your full name rolled off his tongue,

albeit a little slurred.

"Hi?" Your voice was questioning, and you could only hope you got across your utter confusion as to what he was doing standing in front of you.

He raised his eyebrows at you, and held out his cup to you silently. Your eyes darted downwards and back up to him again, looking at the murky liquid dubiously. As far as you were concerned, he could've been poisoning you.

"No, thanks."

"Don't you trust me?"

You let the words hang. You knew he knew the answer to that question. JJ waved the cup in front of your face once again, jolting you back to the present.

"Lighten up, princess.”

You chuckled lowly, though the laugh had no real humour behind it. “Fuck off, Pogue.”

You met his eyes again, and the corner of his lip quirked up ever so slightly. He looked almost a little stunned.

"Where'd you learn to swear, princess? The country club?"

"Where'd you learn to swear? Jail?" You bit back, and JJ grinned.

"Juvie, dumbass.” He replied, eyebrows raised. "C'mon. One sip."

“I believe the lady said no, Maybank.” You heard your boyfriend’s merciless voice cut off the intense tension that you and JJ were now sharing.

"Rafe! Buddy! How are you?"

The taste of beer in the back of your throat turned rancid. This was not going to end well. The muscles in Rafe’s jaw were tensed, sharp lines against the contours of his skin.

"What, is it not fancy enough for you?" JJ kept being persistent.

"No. We were just leaving."

"Hey, you know what? I'll take it." Topper interrupts JJ, and you start to fear what might happen.

"Thank you, man. I appreciate it."

"That's nice, but I didn't ask you. If you said pretty please, maybe, but you didn't."

"Oh, pretty please."

"Yeah. Sarah? How about you?” JJ tried to give her the cup.

"Pretty please?"

"You can have it." JJ insists on giving Sarah the cup.

"She doesn't want it, you-" Topper just spills the drink into JJ's face.

JJ hits Topper, while John B and Sarah attempt to separate them.

"Dirty Pogues!" Topper screams and John B loses it and hits him.

"Hey, John B, don't make me drown you like your old man, all right?"

People around you scream "Fight! Fight! Fight!" like this is some kind of joke.

The guys continue, and it seems like there are only three sane people in the middle of this, trying to stop it: you, Sarah and Kiara.

Things are getting pretty violent. Topper is holding John B's head, and he's slowly drowning him. Everyone around us is either inciting it or screaming, trying to end it. That's too much for you to watch, so you hide inside Rafe's arms and he pulls you closer.

Out of nowhere, someone screams, "He's got a gun" and you turn to see JJ with a gun pointed at Top's head.

"JJ, stop! Put the gun down!" Sarah screams desperately.

"Did you say something, princess?" He holds his position.

"JJ, what the fuck? Do you know what you are doing? Calm down, please."

"Oh, does princess number two want to join the ‘save the asshole’ party?"

Your breath hitched in your throat as the cool metal met your temple – you had never been a fan of guns – but you wished that you knew how to use one or atleast how to defend yourself against someone with one as JJ Maybank bore the side of the pistol in his hand into your skull like his life depended on it. Your eyes met Rafe’s and you noted the panic that ran through them, though you knew no one else would and you thanked God for that, because if they had you were sure you would die on this beach, leaving Rafe to cradle what was left of your lifeless body. Everything felt like it was moving in slow motion and you could barely hear Rafe’s words or the words of the pogues as they stood by, begging JJ to put the gun down.

"You better get the gun away from her or I swear to God, your friends will be burying you tonight.” Rafe breathes, almost too calmly. “You know who has more power between us. I can make your life a living hell more than it is now.”

Everyone knows that's true, even JJ himself. Yet, he didn’t seem to care about that at the moment, all he cared about was getting even with Rafe Cameron, the kook king himself and that’s what he thought he was doing when he pulled the trigger sending a harsh air into the side of your temple. You dropped to the sand and Rafe’s heart stopped for a split second as he raced over to your form. He gripped your cheeks, looking over your face, begging you to say anything as he searched for any source of blood, any place that a bullet would have entered your body.

“Baby – Baby – talk to me, please!”

You were dazed, your mind reeling. You wondered if you had been shot, if this was it for you, if you were dying – is this what dying felt like? You couldn’t make your mouth form words and your ears rang. Rafe shook you once again, forcing you to look into his eyes.

“Sweet girl, what hurts? Are you hurt?!”

You could only shake your head no as he looked over you and once he received confirmation that you were okay, he ordered Kelce to watch over you as he made his way over to where JJ stood. JJ looked in Rafe’s direction, knowing he had fucked up, knowing he was about to take the beating of his life. Rafe stalked towards him, anger pulsating through every vein in his body in a way that it never had. Pogues had always pissed him off or been a nuisance to him, but this – this was life or death – this was you and he couldn’t stand by and let these fuckers think they could get away with that. JJ shrunk into himself, thinking about making a break for it and Topper must’ve noticed, because he got to him before Rafe did, jerking him up by the collar of his shirt and snickering.

“Listen, bud, accept your fate now – Rafe’s gonna kill you.”

He chuckled and JJ’s fear made itself known as he tried to squirm out of Topper’s grasp. And just as he did, ready to make a break for it and leave his friends to fend for themselves, Rafe stepped in front of him, stopping him in his tracks.

“And, uh – just where do you think you’re going?”

He growled.

“Listen man –”

JJ was cut off by Rafe’s forehead connecting with his nose, knocking him back abruptly.

“No, see –, listening after you pull a gun on my girl? That doesn’t work for me.”

His voice was sinister, yet cool and calm and ready – ready to kill his first pogue. Rafe shoved JJ back even further, his head connecting with the sand. Rafe’s only thought in that moment elicited a snicker from him as he thought about his tiny pogue brain shaking around in his head at the impact. He thought about it again as he ripped the gun from JJ’s grasp and knocked it against his nose, the crunch of his bones could be heard across the beach and Rafe let out a laugh.

“If you think that hurts, you’re not gonna survive what comes next.”

Topper snickered, bringing a beer to Rafe’s attention, handing it to him. Rafe’s demented and angry state gave him an idea and before he could even think he spit into the long-neck beer bottle, swishing the remaining liquid around and passing it back to Topper who spit in it as well and handed it back to Rafe.

“Maybank, you uh–, you thirsty? I got something for you.”

Rafe laughed menacingly, turning back to the crowd that had gathered around them on the beach before kneeling over JJ while Topper held down his shoulders against the sand and Rafe poured the tainted liquid down his throat. JJ kicked and attempted to scream, but his yells were muffled against the cool liquid as he fought against it.

“Don’t fight it, princess.”

Topper snickered, his grip on JJ’s shoulder’s tightening to prevent him from squirming away from Rafe.

“Stop! You’re gonna kill him!”

John B yelled, emerging from the crowd.

“Trust me, JB, I’m not even close to killing him yet and when I am it’ll be justified. He almost took my world away from me, killing him wouldn’t be enough.”

Rafe spoke through gritted teeth and threw the beer bottle to the side, stradling JJ and beginning to hit him over and over.

You sat on the sand, Kelce’s strong arm wrapped around your waist as you tucked your knees further into your chest and laid your head on top of them. Rafe came barreling toward you, stopping as he took in the tears that were running down your cheeks. Your eyes were closed and you chanted to yourself “Rafe’s coming soon” over and over in a hushed whisper. His heart broke and the sight and he was filled with regret for leaving you with Kelce of all people while you were in this state. He knelt in front of your face, tucking the hair behind your ears and it was like almost immediately, you knew the touch was his. Your eyes flew open, and at the sight of him you cried even harder – a mix of fear and anger washed over you; anger at JJ, fear of Rafe being shot the way you almost had been. You jumped into his arms, almost knocking him over, but he steadied as he wrapped his arms around you and situated you on his lap. You buried your head in his chest and he wrapped one arm under your knees and the other around the back of your hair, pooling it in his hands. You tucked your face as deep into his chest as you could and he placed a kiss on your temple.

“Hey, sweet girl. Talk to me, baby.”

“Scared – wanna g-go home.”

“Okay, mama. We’re going.”

He whispered against your hairline, pushing himself off the ground by his legs and shifting you in his broad arms before carrying you bridal-style to his truck.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe x reader #rafe outer banks #rafecore #rafe obx #outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron prompt #rafe cameron obx #protective!rafe

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pyrrhiccomedy · 6 months ago

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I am genuinely so proud of my wife for becoming a crafts person over the last few years.

Like, I was always a crafts person. I was an arts and crafts kid. My parents sent me to classes or summer camps or after-school clubs pretty much continuously from when I was about 5 years old, and over the years I did metalsmithing, stained glass, polymer clay sculpting, loom weaving, oil painting, charcoal drawing, clothes-making & tailoring, carpentry, woodcarving, macrame, miniatures, beading, jewelry-making, basket weaving, leatherworking, paper-making, bookbinding, papier mache, decoupage, sand sculpting, and probably more that I'm forgetting. There was never a day in my life while I was growing up when my entire bedroom floor wasn't taken up by 2-5 different ongoing art projects. As an adult, it's given me the firm confidence that I can walk up to pretty much any crafting skill, and get the hang of it, and enjoy doing it.

My wife never had that. She wrote, but that was really her only artistic outlet. Art & craftsmanship were just not any of her business. She always expressed admiration for my gumption when it came to making things with my hands, usually with a "bigger idiots than me have done it" attitude, but she was certain she'd be bad at it if she tried it, and that she wouldn't have fun. As evidence, she would offer every time in her life when she had attempted to learn a craft, and didn't have fun, and all the Arts And Crafts kids picked it up a lot faster than her.

Which like - yeah! Learning how to do a new craft is a skill all on its own! Fine motor control is a skill developed over time! So is spatial reasoning, and materials intuition! She wasn't just 'trying to learn wreath-making,' or whatever, she was trying to learn how to learn how to make something with her hands AND wreath-making, at the same time, so of course it would take her longer than the kids who already had the first part, and of course it would be more frustrating for her. I knew she wasn't uniquely bad at crafts: she just didn't know how to approach picking them up, because she was never encouraged to learn.

And then the pandemic hit.

And while we were all trapped inside and going insane in new and exciting ways to all of us, she tentatively decided to pick up embroidery. She probably wouldn't stick with it, she explained: she'd probably be bad at it. It probably wouldn't be fun. But she thought embroidery was pretty, and literally what else did she have going on?

And then she did stick with it. For over a year. And she got pretty good at it! She embellished a baseball hat for her sister with cactuses and wildflowers from where they grew up which came out adorable. She made an embroidered portrait of one of our friends' cat that they still have displayed in their entryway. And she discovered - and remarked on it often, with mild surprise - that she was having fun. She'd say a lot of stuff like "this stitch was so frustrating at first, but now that I get it I really like doing it," or "I kept getting this tangled but I've figured it out now. I just needed to relax."

Then she took up pottery. We did that as a couple for about a year, too. Now she's a knitter.

And it's just been so great, to see her eyes light up when she sees a sweater she likes, and hear her say, "I could make that!" She's slowly let go of the perfectionism that I think holds a lot of people back from doing crafts: that dismay when you make a mistake which leads to discarding a whole project, or starting something over. More and more she's taking on the veteran crafter attitude of "oops lol, whatever I'll just keep going." She's picking things up faster. She's taking pleasure in learning incremental steps. She's started to see crafting as something that relaxes and engages her, instead of as something inherently frustrating. I've gotten to watch her learn to find joy in making something with her hands. I always knew she was creative and artistic and capable of learning how to do anything. It's been so much fun to watch her start to take that on as part of how she sees herself.

We have this running joke about how she will prematurely declare herself to be in an era. Like, she'll go swimming twice and announce that she's now in her "swimming era," and then never go swimming again. Or she'll make one smoothie, buy a bunch of fruit, and declare that we are now in a "smoothie era," and then a week later we have to throw out a bunch of fruit that's gone bad.

The other day (while she was knitting, and I was sitting on the couch next to her doing crochet), she went, "I feel like I've gotten - like, I'm a bit crafty these days, I think. Like, I've done a couple of different crafts, and gotten pretty good at them. I think this is now, kind of, you know...something that I can say that I do."

I supplied that I would even go so far as to say that she was in her "crafting era."

Her eyes widened. "It's an era?"

I pointed out that it was something she'd been doing pretty much continuously for the last three and a half years. That feels like the start of an era to me.

"Yes," she decided. "It's an era. This is my crafts era. I'm a crafts person now."

She's planning to make me a sweater with a duck on it for fall.

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mrmagicmollymoll · 2 years ago

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Ideas For Modern Day Gladiator Games Inspired By Miniature Golf

Was thinking about miniature golf earlier, as I often do, comparing our little games to the blood sport of Ancient Rome, wondering why there aren’t more gladiator contests in our society and lamenting the lack of miniature/gladiator sport in general. Obviously, miniature golf is infinitely better than regular-sized golf. But how much better could an actual sport be, in miniature form? And when I say miniature, in this context, I don’t just mean smaller-sized. I mean vastly improved upon: way more entertaining, way more whimsical, and almost certainly lethal. So. Here are the two sports I’d love to see miniaturized, and how the new games would be played:

1. Soccer, aka “All Ball.” (Sly nod to Dr. Seuss, given the high body count here.) We make the field half the size, add two more raised goals so there’s one at standard basketball height on either side of the field, and change the rules so you can use your hands and bite people. Open brawling is permitted. Goalies may leave their goals for extended periods to engage in hand-to-hand combat and/or psychological manipulation. Also, we add a position: golf cart defender. Each team has one designated defender who just roves around the field like a bat out of hell on a golf cart with a fishing net and a piece of plywood — stealing balls, blocking shots, and generally putting the fear of God into everyone. The game is over when both goals of a team have been destroyed by the other.

2. Baseball, aka “Sky Ball.” We remove the outfield entirely and add two chairs, each elevated 150 feet above the field on a ladder. One ladder goes behind the pitcher’s mound, one goes between third base and home plate. Why? Because that’s where the motherfucking Sky Catchers sit. Their job is to catch anything that flies and to make life hell for the little people down below. Especially the people who try to climb the ladder. (More on that later.) Sky catchers are exempt from all rules — both the rules of baseball and the laws of civilized society — except one: they aren’t allowed to wear regulation athletic gear. They can wear whatever else they want, though, which leads to a lot of medieval armor, astronaut suits, occasional nakedness, etc.

Each team has one starting and one relief sky catcher. No more. If things get ugly up there and you lose a sky catcher, then a fan is chosen “at random,” wink wink, from the stadium crowd to replace them. Sky chair bribery is rampant and encouraged. Big money is made, political careers are launched and ruined. A lot of people die.

Also, any player from the fielding team can steal a sky-base at any time during the inning — and a stolen sky-base is worth TWO home runs.

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chheolie · 3 months ago

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[⚾] where seokmin can't wait for his son to grow up and play baseball with him.

"papapapa." it was already the sixth or seventh time you heard your baby babbling that word, the small voice echoing in the room. it was late afternoon, and you were sitting on the couch, watching your child play with the toys scattered on the soft carpet. but something seemed to be missing. the baby's curious eyes wandered around the room, searching for something or someone. you knew perfectly well what—or rather, who—he was looking for. seokmin, your husband, loved to practice baseball on his days off, and that day, he was taking longer than usual to return home.

the baby began to get restless with the absence of his dad, making faces and emitting small sounds in an attempt to get attention. his big, curious eyes explored the environment while he babbled once again: "papapa." this time, there was a confused expression on his little face, as if he was trying to understand why dad wasn't there.

you watched as he crawled to the bedroom where seokmin usually told stories before bed, but upon arriving there, he found the space empty. a gentle ache filled your chest as you saw the little one so distressed, and you followed him into the room.

"my love, appa isn't here," you murmured, picking him up and feeling the tenderness of the moment. it was impressive how, even so small, he already showed so much affection and longing for his dad.

determined to cheer up your child, you went to the closet and carefully took out the tiny jersey that seokmin had kept with so much love. it was a dodgers shirt with the number 17 on the back, along with an mlb cap from new era, also from the dodgers. items that seokmin had bought excitedly while you were still pregnant, eager for the future.

with the baby in your arms, you dressed him in the jersey, which was still a bit big, and adjusted the cap, which was also too large for his little head. seeing him dressed like this, a miniature version of seokmin, you couldn't help but smile. the baby watched you curiously, a smile lighting up his face as if he understood what was about to happen.

"shall we go see appa?" you asked, knowing that while he might not understand all the words yet, "appa" was one he knew well. the answer came in the form of a joyful giggle.

you grabbed the diaper bag and walked leisurely to the field where seokmin usually trained. the air was fresh, and your child observed the colors and sounds along the way, his eyes shining with fascination.

upon arriving at the field, you spotted seokmin running around the bases, fully focused on the practice. his teammates were also busy, each in their position. still holding the baby, you stopped near the fence and watched seokmin for a moment. he seemed so at ease there, playing baseball, as if he were performing on stage, and you felt a wave of pride for him.

one of seokmin's friends noticed your presence and waved, catching his attention. "seokmin, look who's here!" he shouted, pointing in your direction.

seokmin stopped and turned immediately, a smile already forming before he even saw you. when he finally realized it was you and your child, his eyes sparkled with joy. he dropped the baseball glove on the ground and ran towards you, his heart racing with happiness. the baby laughed with excitement in your arms, recognizing the familiar figure quickly approaching.

"look at this outfit!" seokmin exclaimed when he got close, laughing as he took the baby in his arms. "you're dressed just like appa."

the baby held seokmin's face with his tiny hands, still laughing with joy at seeing his dad. seokmin lifted him in the air and brought him close, kissing his cheek with affection.

"sorry for showing up without warning," you said, smiling as you watched the scene, "but he kept calling for you all afternoon. i thought bringing him here would cheer him up."

"are you serious?" seokmin asked, surprised, a huge smile on his face. "he was calling for me?"

you nodded, caressing his face. seokmin leaned in and gave you a gentle kiss. "were you waiting for appa?" he asked the baby, who laughed at recognizing the word.

"i told you…" you laughed, amused.

seokmin turned to his friends, proudly showing off his son. "look who came to beat you all!" he said loudly, with pride.

"i can't wait for him to grow up and come play with me," he confessed to you, his gaze still fixed on the baby.

you laughed, crossing your arms and pretending to be worried. "oh? and who’s going to take care of me when you two are out on the field? am i going to be left alone at home?"

"it's not like that, love, i just…" he tried to explain, but you interrupted him with a gentle kiss, and he smiled, feeling his heart warm.

the two of you smiled, and you watched the man you loved hold your son with such care.

you and the little one sat on the small bleachers, now more relaxed, still fascinated by the environment and by the presence of his dad. you adjusted his cap and positioned him on your lap so he could see seokmin in action on the field.

seokmin focused on the game, but not before blowing kisses to his son, who laughed at the sight. you laughed along, charmed by the scene.

the game continued for a while longer until the baby finally began to get sleepy, perhaps lulled by the rhythm of the game or by the comfort of being close to his dad. when the game ended, seokmin waved at you, and you had the baby relaxed in your arms.

he ran towards you, still smiling, his face sweaty. gently, he took the baby, who was already fast asleep, and slung the diaper bag over his shoulder.

"he was exhausted from looking for you earlier," you said softly, as you watched seokmin adjust the baby in his arms. "but now that he's seen you, he's at peace."

seokmin smiled, looking at the baby sleeping so soundly. "thank you for bringing him here. i had no idea how much i missed you both while i was training."

you started walking back home, taking your time. seokmin held the bag in one hand and kept the baby secure against his chest with the other. you, in turn, carried seokmin's glove with the baseball inside.

"i'm not sure how i feel about having another baseball player in the house," you teased, tossing the ball in the air. "he seems to have taken a liking to being on the field."

seokmin chuckled softly, his eyes shining with happiness. "i admit, i can't wait to see him running around the field, with the same passion i have," he said, looking at you lovingly. "but we can fix that."

"how?" you asked, curious.

he stopped walking for a moment and, still holding the baby, pulled you closer, intertwining his fingers with yours. "we can have another one…"

you smiled, feeling the warmth of his hand in yours, and continued walking together along the quiet street. in the silence of the night, the sound of your footsteps mingled with the baby's soft snores. "i love you, seokmin," you said, squeezing his hand.

"i love you too, y/n. thank you for today."

#seventeen fanfic #seventeen imagines #seventeen x reader #svt #dokyeom scenarios #dokyeom fluff #dokyeom seventeen #dokyeom #dokyeom x y/n #dokyeom x you #dk x y/n #dk x reader #dk x you #svt dk #dk fluff

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apuckishwit · 2 years ago

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Making Room

Steve never gets into DnD.

Not even after Eddie convinces him to join a one-shot over one Christmas when the kids are all back from college and jobs and far-flung adventures. He's not a jerk about it or anything. He sits and makes a character with his boyfriend and he does his best with the role-playing and he only asks Dustin for help with the dice seven or eight times (and everyone had promised to give him an even dozen before they gave him shit about it, so it was fine). It's fine. He's not mad that he spent the time doing it with Eddie and the kids (some of them taller than him now, in spitting distance of college degrees and first apartments and jobs and spouses and lives, but they'll always be kids to him).

But afterwards he kisses Eddie and says it really and truly isn't for him, sorry babe.

And that's okay.

When he and Robin are scavenging through yet another thrift store for furniture and dishes and lamps for the apartment she and Nancy are getting in Indianapolis (he's so sad that her room in the little house he shares with Eddie is going back to being a guest room, but he's so damn happy that she and Nance have stopped dancing around each other...and they're only moving about half an hour away, he'll still see her all the time), and he spots an impractically long desk/table, onviously custom-built, with an absurd number of drawers and compartments built into it, he buys it immediately. He wrestles it into Eddie's van that they borrowed for the day, and smiles apologetically when Robin has to hold like three boxes on her lap. He gets it into their dining room while Eddie's at work, graciously gifting their own table to Robin and Nancy, and it's worth all the hassle (and the fact that one end of the table pokes about a foot into the living room space) when Eddie comes home to something big enough for even his most complicated campaign maps and with plenty of storage for all his dice and miniatures and source books.

And sturdy enough for Eddie's most...enthusiastic...thanks, they find out that night.

Steve never gets into DnD.

But every time Hellfire (whatever incarnation of Hellfire it is, be it the Hawkins crew or some of the guys from the little record shop Eddie works at in town, or some combination) meets up for a game, they get used to Eddie yelling, "Stevie! Evens or odds?" everytime a situation calls for a luck die. They learn that complimenting the snacks Steve sets out will sometimes get them advantage on a roll. They watch Eddie snag Steve's wrist as he passes in or out of the dining room and get him to roll a D20 for various and random reasons. Steve always obliges, before drifting back to the couch with a beer or a slice of pizza and whatever basketball or baseball game is on.

Steve never gets into DnD.

But sometimes Eddie spreads newspapers over the Campaign Table (TM) and sets pots of paint and rows of miniatures out, and he and Steve sit together for a few hours, Steve slapping on the basecoats with a single pot of white, gray, or black and Eddie going to town on the details while they chat about their day, playing footsie under the table or stealing kisses while they wait for something to dry.

"Babe! I need a name for the friendly barkeep who knows more than he seems!"

"Carl."

"He's a half-orc!"

"Those are the big green guys, right?"

"Yeah!"

"Hmmm. Big Carl."

"Perfect!"

Steve never gets into DnD. But he loves Eddie, and he loves how into DnD Eddie is. So he makes room in his life for this thing that Eddie loves.

***

Eddie never gets into sports.

Like, objectively he understands that some people enjoy running around getting all sweaty, trying to keep some kind of ball away from other people and make it go into some kind of receptacle. And he certainly appreciates the view of some of those people in tight little shorts.

Particularly Steve.

Like honestly? If it wouldn't get him labeled a total creep (and they weren't so careful about giving anyone a reason to question the assumption that they're just two young friends living together to save money until they find respectable women to marry)...he'd park his van out by the little middle school where Steve teaches gym and coaches basketball and baseball every day during his lunch break, just to watch his boyfriend run the mile with his students in those shorts that hug the muscles of his thighs just right.

But he doesn't like sports apart from the strictly prurient interest he has in watching Steve wear sports-appropriate clothes.

He tries. He wants to know just what it is that keeps Steve glued to the TV when his favorite teams are playing, wants to understand why Steve yells and groans and jumps up with wild cheers, spilling popcorn all over the living room floor. He just...doesn't get it. Steve tries to explain March Madness to him one year and it makes no more sense than when Wayne tried to when Eddie was a kid. Eventually he just shrugs, kisses Steve's nose, and goes back to petting through his boyfriend's hair with a, sorry, baby, it's not for me.

And that's okay.

He gets up early the week Steve is overseeing baseball tryouts, to make sure his boyfriend has a travel mug of coffee fixed just the way he likes it, and a good breakfast waiting for him when he gets out of the shower. Steve is unquestionably the cook in their relationship, but Young Eddie ate a lot of breakfast for dinner over the years and Adult Eddie makes damn good pancakes, omelettes, and French toast.

Eddie never gets into sports.

But he gets Lucas to break down exactly what kind of notes and stats Steve will be keeping track of and draws up a template "character sheet" for baseball players, spending an hour at the local library laboriously making copies with their cantankerous mimeograph machine.

He sure as shit never gets up at the crack of dawn to go running around the neighborhood the way Steve does...but on days when it starts raining or snowing halfway through Steve's run, he'll drag himself out of bed and throw some towels in the dryer, so they're nice and warm when Steve comes back inside.

Eddie never gets into sports.

But he takes every overtime shift he can for a month, so he can take Steve to Chicago for his twenty-fifth birthday to see the Bulls play. The seats aren't great or anything, and it's noisy as fuck, crowded as fuck, and he has no idea why his boyfriend is losing his mind every time that Jordan guy so much as touches the ball...but Steve's eyes are sparkling, the color is high in his cheeks, and when they get back to their hotel that night, they've barely closed the door before Steve is shoving him against it, devouring his mouth.

"Hey Eds, Ohio State or Georgia Tech?"

"For what?"

"I'm doing my brackets for the pool I've got with Hopper and Lucas!"

"Um, whoever's in red!"

"Ohio State it is, thanks babe!"

Eddie never gets into sports. But that's okay. He loves Steve, and he loves how happy Steve is when he's playing, or coaching, or running (God help him, he fell in love with someone who gets up at six am to run. Without anything chasing him.) So he makes room in his life for this thing that Steve loves.

Because certainly, love grows in shared passions and matching interests. But it also flourishes in the carefully tended space you make just for the things that make your person happy...even if it's just not for you.

#steddie #stranger things #stranger things fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #my wriitng #I dunno i was just feeling soft

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mysteriesmuse · 3 months ago

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childhood trio izuku, katsuki, and y/n!! who are constantly dragged to each other things! Like, Katsuki and Izuku who both got signed up for T-ball and Pee-Wee Soccer. Katsuki who eventually got good at it and had baseball tournaments every other weekend and your parents are dragging both you and Izuku out to watch Katsuki. The sweetness of a sticky box of crackerjacks and peanuts shared as you spend dozen of weekends sitting together in the stands at his field games with the big pointer finger foam hand and corn dogs — and the everlasting hope of catching a ball. It gets close to happening once or twice, and eventually Katsuki reluctantly gives everyone in his fanclub a signed baseball from the game. It sits proudly on your bookshelves. Katsuki who in middle school eventually gets recruited to the small wrestling team as well and so now you’re stuck in the van in between these too in the back seat and driving all the way to his other tournaments in a giant sweaty gym. All of you with folders of paperwork in your laps as you dutifully try to complete hw before the match. You and Izuku snickering behind your books as Katsuki complains about a weggie from the uniform being too tight in the crotch. And Izuku, who started winning at spelling bees at an early age; whose ramblings landed him a spot in debate club when he got older. The T-ball never really stuck for him like it did for Kacchan. Who’s got an auditorium full of overachievers and stuffy dressed people staring at their stopwatch’s that are taking down every note. The evenings where there’s a tie being grueling. The early mornings a challenge of wits as you and Katsuki used to pilfer through a dictionary together. Index fingers frantically running over the letters of the words Izuku was trying to spell as your heads nearly bump into each other. The evenings where you’d lay your head on his or your parents shoulders as you tried to stay awake . . . Momma Inko always gently patting the two of you on the shoulders when the debate is over. You and Katsuki rubbings the sleep out of your eyes as you run off to congratulate Izuku. The late night milkshakes in the car as he continue talking about all the exciting little quirks of the game. You nodding along w The hours spent where Izuku would practice his word count at the kitchen table afterschool. You and Katsuki, used to the new routine, now bring headphones to drown out the noise of him practicing his talking so that you both can focus on studying. And y/n who’d gotten signed up for dance classes the same time the boys were busy attempting miniature versions of sports. Eventually sticking with it and finding that she’s naturally talented at looking graceful across the ballet stage. Always having Izuku and Katsuki come out to the performances and sitting with all the parents. The two of them always forced to dress formally like proper audience members and each of them clutching and handing you a bouquet of their own choosing when you arrive from backstage. Izuku’s classic green button up and eagerly handing you a sweetly wrapped ghetto bouquet as he comments on the ballet. Katsuki who comes out in slacks and loafers and sheepishly hands you a classic bouquet of red roses with his sweaty hands. Sometimes even getting you a matching bouquet so you can take photos with it in your costume; a factor you never seem to miss with a gasp and tease. Y/N who’s always preparing for the ballet over at Katsuki’s house. His father taking the time to help prepare your costume and pointe shoes together. The family office (which already was a design studio) now an explosion of ribbons and bubble gum pop as pins and needles do hems and tucks. Your mother and his always taking the time to practice teaching you how to do the makeup and hair yourself. Katsuki will always peak his head into the office to office to announce his presence as you swivel your head and beam from the dress pedalstol.

Y/N who quickly dives into theatre and music. The Suzuki cello lessons taking place for so long that eventually when Katsuki gets signed up for drum lessons the new carpool starts to break your routine. Instead of the usual music that you’re studying your accompanied by Katsuki tapping anxiously with his fingers against his knees. His lessons that take place down the hall so loud that you can hear them in the midst of your scales. And everyday for the first few months when asked how it was you’d grumble and snark out “not really sure it was impossible to hear with the super loud drums next door.” And quickly his lessons require a little bit of piano playing and soon enough the hallway is filled with plinkering notes as he attempts a sonata every Wednesday for 20 minutes. Eventually he gets good enough that his mother starts pressuring him to accompany your cello playing. And it’s 2 grueling days spent at his house where you’re forced to sit as Katsuki stiffly positions himself at the keyboard and hammers out the accompaniment to your solo. Very quickly the parents learn that this isn’t going to work very well and you and Katsuki go back on your merry way with lessons. Sometimes now you even get a good giggle when hammering along to something only for a drumstick to fly out of his hand. The resulting pause and string of curses simply hilarious from your safe distance. Y/N who joins theatre and try’s out for the musicals for several years. Whose excitement and participation in captivating performances moves Izuku to join shortly after. Momma Inko packing snacks into your bags as you stay afterschool. Your own parents picking the two of you up and having Izuku over for dinner until Momma Inko gets off of work. Izuku who’s fantastic at memorizing lines and lyrics that he quickly gets lead roles especially when there’s so few boys in theatre. And you who’s good enough at music and dancing that you’re on the “dance team” which is a special group of students from similiar backgrounds who get to do the more interesting choreography. The two of you a perfect duo of tenor and soprano which means that you can sing out all the songs out of context to your hearts content together. The two of you incredibly enthusiastic the year you do Macbeth because it’s the first time you’ve both landed big roles: Izuku as Banquo and Y/N as the head witch in the play. And now the both of you get to interact together on stage besides just being ensemble and chorus members.

Every rehearsal in costume you get to prance around with a cloak and dare to scare Izuku in the dark backstage. Except he’ll usually silently flinch and then grin with his arms open for an embrace whispering “n/n!” as he beckons you forth, “didn’t know you got back from costume and makeup already. That was super fast. You look good - uh I mean bad. Yeah, bad.”

And Katsuki’s forced to watch by himself with all of your folks giving y’all a congratulations and handing off another bouquet to you and giving Izuku a playful punch to the shoulder. The parents enthusiastically asking to get pictures of the two of you in costume.

Y/N with best few photos always ending up on your wall just like the rest of them that you have with the boys after everything you’ve done all these years together. Izuku has his catalogued by year in a scrapbook and Katsuki has his favorite one framed: a photo of you in your ballet outfit and him in his baseball get-up with a fashion disaster Izuku in the middle as he had to dress up for both events. The poor boy slightly sunburnt and covered in a far amount of glitter sandwiched between y’all.

#mysteriesmusing #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugou #bakugou x reader #bakugou headcanons #izuku midoriya x reader #izuku midoriya #midoriya izuku #midoriya headcanons

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yeonzzzn · 10 months ago

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👾he fell harder: yang jungwon

pairing: jungwon x afab!reader word count: 5.7k

synopsis: jungwon and you have always been competitors from children to adulthood, mostly when it came to gaming. so when the gaming club you both are apart of joins a competition, the two of you are put on the same team…

genre: gamer!won, gamer!reader, enemies to lovers

warnings: stupidly cute wonnie, swearing, gaming fun, a lot fluffly towards the end ♡

“Okay everyone, come collect your room keys and head to your respective rooms until you are called back down for practice. We will select your team members then.” Heeseung, your game club manager, yelled at the top of his lungs while standing on the hotel's lobby chair.

The professor in charge of this little miniature work/college/vacation clapped his hands twice to signal everyone to line up for their room keys.

“Hopefully I get a room with a balcony!” you rolled your eyes and sighed at the annoying voice in your ear.

You slightly turned to look at Jungwon, a smile spread wide on his face.

He wasn’t even speaking to you, but the fact he had to stand RIGHT NEXT to you when there’s a whole lobby full of other college students in your club he could be standing by.

You finally received your room key from Heeseung, and Jungwon got his right after.

“Y/N! What room do you have?” he cutely asks, trying to peak over your shoulder at the room number on the paper.

You scrunch your nose at him as you turn the paper away from him, “None of your business Yang Jungwon!” You retort, shoving your room key and paper into your jacket pocket.

Jungwon mimics your facial expression adding in his nasty side eye.

Heeseung calls everyone to head to their rooms, and to your dislike, Jungwon was right behind you as you got into the elevator.

“Oh? Going up?” he teased, as the other students filled in behind him.

You ignored him, watching as another student pressed the fourth-floor button. Silently blessing that kid for doing so that is why Jungwon couldn’t see which floor you were on. Because god, if he knew what floor you were on…the ways he would annoy you.

Your heart raced faster at each stop and not seeing Jungwon get off the elevator.

Maybe he was a few floors up?

Finally, the fourth floor was reached, you quickly stepped out, not realizing Jungwon was right behind you.

Jungwon couldn’t help but smile, his hands sliding down into his jeans pockets as his eyes searched for his room number, stopping at his door and seeing you stop at yours.

“No way,” he laughed, making you jump, “Neighbors again for the week!”

You slowly glared at him, making a mental note to unplug your hotel room phone the minute you got inside.

Quickly slapping the room key to the door and hearing it unlock, you rush yourself inside, locking the door and the hard bolt lock for safekeeping.

Dropping your backpack and suitcase to the floor, you fell onto the bed, your face going into the sheets as your favorite baseball hat fell from your head.

The vibrations of your phone pulled you out of your almost nap, your hand reaching into your pocket and pulling the device out.

It was a text from your best friend.

You didn’t even have to explain yourself to her, just your smiley face alone was enough for her to place the puzzle pieces together.

Locking your phone and dropping it by your face and rolling onto your back as you stare up at the ceiling.

It wasn’t always like this with Jungwon, being enemies. You actually have known him your entire life.

You grew up in the same neighborhood, his house being directly across the street from yours. Your parents became friends quickly after they moved into the house across from yours. Your mothers both ended up becoming pregnant around the same time just added to the friendship your families have. What was icing on the cake was you being born a week after Jungwon.

Your mothers always arranged play dates and was not only an excuse for the two of you to grow up as best friends, but a way for them to spend time together. Same with your dads.

The amount of cookouts the families would throw together. You couldn’t even count on your hands and feet with how many times you’ve seen the Yang’s backyard.

It wasn’t just the play dates, your parents made sure you and Jungwon attended the same daycare after they returned to work and even enrolled you both at the same preschool. Your parents would even have the two of you take bubble baths together as infants, and they have pictures to prove it.

Your family was always at their house or them at yours. Heck, even Jungwon’s older sister was tired of seeing you around so often. Not like you could have helped it.

Your friendship with Jungwon slowly started to change once you got into elementary school when the fight to be top of the class with good grades was introduced.

Jungwon and you have always been competitive, even before elementary school. With toys, drawing, board games with the family, and even the stupid little games toddlers play like seeing who can run faster or drink their orange juice faster and not get sick.

Just the competitiveness got worse once grades got involved, and it didn’t stop there. Family nights with board games got worse. Rushing to see who can finish their homework first and get the least amount of questions wrong. Fighting to be at the top of the class. Sports. Band. Taekwondo. You name it, you both probably got competitive over it. Even getting into the same middle and high school was a competition.

It drove your friendship apart halfway through elementary school, and you’ve been enemies since.

But the god giving fate your families have for the two of you to finally makeup, you both were accepted into the same college. You groaned after finding out from your mother that he was also accepted. But once you moved into the dorms, you were happy to find out his dorm was on the opposite side of the campus. Plus both your majors were two separate things, so seeing him was slim.

But your happiness soon faded after you walked into the video game club and saw his shit-eating grin staring back at you with his Nintendo Switch in his hands as a pokémon battle song played through its speakers.

Honestly, you should have known he would also join the gaming club. You both grew up as gamers after all. If there wasn’t a board game or a handheld console in your hands, it was the PlayStation or the gaming laptop or PC.

You didn’t realize how much time had passed when a knock came to your door.

“Y/N,” it was Jungwon, “Heeseung just texted me, we are meeting downstairs in ten,” you rolled your eyes, forgetting how close Heeseung and Jungwon were, “Just wanted to let you know because I am heading down first.”

You quickly jumped from the bed, pulling your hat back on your head and your phone into your pocket, double-checking that you had the room key, and busted out the door.

You looked down both sides of the hallway, seeing Jungwon’s grin as the elevator door closed.

“Shit!” you scoffed, eyes then catching the door to the stairs.

You quickly ran down them, thanking whatever God gave you your athletic ability as you finally reached the lobby floor, hands pushing the metal on the door open, rushing through, and seeing Jungwon step out of the elevator at the same time.

He made eye contact with you for a split second before the both of you made a full sprint to the middle of the lobby where Heeseung was standing.

“Woah woah woah!!!” Heeseung yelled, holding both hands up to save himself in case you both knocked him down.

Heeseung held his hand to his heart once the two of you made a complete stop.

“Can you two let go of this never-ending fight?” Heeseung took a deep breath, standing back up straighter. Eyes looking between the two of you.

You squinted your eyes at Jungwon as he gave back the same look.

“Or not,” Heeseung sighed, dropping himself into the nearest seat, “At least sit-down or something.”

One by one the rest of the students piled into the lobby, Yunjin linking her arm with yours.

“Okay, everyone!” Heeseung yelled, standing back on the same chair as earlier, “We will put you guys into teams now!”

“Can I be on your team, Heeseung Hyung?!” one of the male students yelled from the back, causing the crowd to laugh.

Heeseung smirked and ran a hand through his hair, “It’s because I’m the best gamer right?” A couple of female students cooed out an “ahhh” as his reaction. You had to admit, Heeseung was a very good-looking man and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t have a tiny crush on him. He was indeed the best gamer in the club, hinting at the reason he’s the manager in the first place.

“I am just kidding, you guys are all the best which is why you’ve made it this far in this competition.” Heeseung gave another smirk as he looked around at the students.

You couldn’t help but smile up at him. But your smile didn’t go unnoticed by Jungwon.

His eyes stared at you from across the crowd of his club members, watching as you made heart eyes at his best friend while he was standing right beside him.

“Hyung,” Jungwon said, catching Heeseung’s attention.

“Right!” Heeseung continued, “Unfortunately, everyone has already been put into teams, and we have enough people to be put into ten teams of two. Once your team is called, please meet up with each other and discuss your plan for this week's competition.”

“Hopefully we are a team! We always fuck shit up as a team!” Yunjin whispered. You nodded, praying to be paired with her. The two of you always kill it at video games together. You’re so happy that she was not only your roommate, but also a fellow club member after you met.

A clipboard was handed to him and started to read off the names of each team.

Yunjin unfortunately wasn’t paired with you and was put on a team with the male student who asked to be with Heeseung.

Finally, your name was called…

“Y/N and Jungwon.”

Your jaw clenched as your eyes found Jungwon’s. You expected him to have his normal shit-eating grin, only to see he was staring back at you, a completely blank face. No expression whatsoever.

The rest of the teams were called and placed into their teams.

“Okay!” Heeseung clapped his hand against the clipboard, “Get into your team and raise your hand if you have any questions!”

Your hand flew into the air, standing on your tippy toes to make sure you were seen.

“Yes, Y/N?” Heeseung nervously asked, already knowing what the issue was.

“Can I switch teams?”

“Ahhh…” Heeseung glanced down at Jungwon who was mid-rolling his eyes at you. Jungwon felt his eyes on him, slowly glancing at his hyung, “Unfortunately the teams were randomly picked, and cannot be changed. It’s the competition rules, I’m sorry.”

You dropped your hand to your side, feeling defeated but also understanding.

This competition wasn’t meant to be fair. The whole point was being paired up with different people and going against other students from other colleges was it to be a challenge.

Heeseung slowly climbed down from the chair, making his way towards his partner.

Jungwon slowly walked up to you, his shit-eating grin finally making an appearance, “Hi teammate.”

“Fuck off, Won.” You sighed, crossing your arms as you started to walk away from him.

“That’s not very nice,” Jungwon smirked as he kept up with your pace, “We are teammates, gotta play nice.”

You stopped in front of the elevator, finger pressing the up button, “Jungwon, I’ve spent my whole life with you, can I please have some space?”

Jungwon glanced up as if he were thinking about it, “No.”

The doors opened and you stepped in, Jungwon right on your heels.

“Besides,” he said, pulling his phone from his pocket and checking the time, “We find out what the first game is tomorrow, want to practice?”

“No thanks, Yunjin and I are going to play Overwatch tonight,” you said without hesitation, leaving Jungwon wide-eyed as you stepped out of the elevator onto your floor, “Besides,” you mocked him, “We will start practicing tomorrow.”

—

You sat in the corner of the gaming cafe that was rented out for your club for the whole week.

You twisted around in the chair, eyes landing on Jungwon as he dropped into the chair beside you, his arms filled with snacks.

“You still like orange soda and candy right?” He set the soda and oranges flavored bag of candy in front of you.

The ache you felt in your heart while looking at the soda and candy made you a little bit sad.

Did he remember? After all these years he still never forgot your favorite snacks from when you were children?

You looked up at him as he opened his can of orange soda, “What? I know you’re staring at me.”

“You remembered?”

Jungwon looks at you, giving a small nod, “I never forgot.”

You glanced back down at your snacks, hands finally reaching to open the candy bag.

A smirk danced on Jungwon’s face as he took a sip of his soda and let out a small chuckle.

The soft feeling you just felt went away instantly, reminding you that Jungwon was no longer your friend but indeed your enemy.

“You annoy me so much, Yang Jungwon.”

His chuckle only continued, “What? You act like we never used to take bubble baths together as infants or something.”

“Shut up,” you snapped, pulling your baseball hat down to cover your eyes, “Just eat your snacks.”

Finally, once everyone was seated with their teammate, the official announcer of the competition came by and announced the first game round was League of Legends.

“The way this competition will work is we will have multiple rounds of each game, whichever team hits the first ten slots with their wins using the bracket method, will move on to the next round. Each practice day for the games will be two days.” The announcer explained the rules, and once everyone understood, he left to go to another school's cafe.

Jungwon cracked his fingers and his neck, stretching out his arms and pulling himself closer to the table, “LOL is way too easy, we’ll make it to the next round for sure.”

You nodded, also doing small stretches before moving yourself closer.

Jungwon and you have always been smart with strategy, attack, and defense games. Mostly since the two of you have had to use these three things with your self-competition.

The first practice day went in a flash. You rubbed your eyes and you dragged your feet to your room, unlocking the door and trailing in.

You wanted nothing but to shower, order food, and then go to bed. But being a gamer, and having friends who are gamers, wouldn’t let that happen so easily.

With a quick shower and food on the way, you sat at the desk with your gaming laptop open, joining your friends' discord call.

“Y/NINNEEE!!” Huening Kai sang through the mic as he saw your username pop into the call.

“Hello hello~” You sang back, “Hope you aren’t missing me too much in Bio.”

Kai scoffed, “As if, the class is a lot quieter now.”

“So was this call before Y/N joined,” Beomgyu teased, but then a soft sigh left his lips when Yunjin’s username joined the call.

“Wow, can’t believe you’re on a call without me!?!” she gasped.

“Oh gross, who invited you in here?!” Beomgyu groaned, his side eye being felt through the mic.

“It’s an open voice chat, asshole, plus I am ALWAYS invited in here!” she spat back.

You giggle at your best friend's banter, making you miss being back on campus.

You decided to open up League of Legends, better to get more practice in before the first round.

“Ugh! League?!” Beomgyu said disgustedly, “Why!?”

You roll your eyes, “Because it’s the first game we are playing for the competition Gyu.”

“Y/N, lemme in so I can practice too.” Yunjin hummed, “And anyways, you act like you were even invited to play?”

Beomgyu chuckled, “Don’t we always play games together? Isn’t that the point of being in a call?”

“Hyung, we are literally playing phasmophobia right now. Kai sassed, “We need ONE MORE piece of evidence to find the ghost.”

“But I am scaredddddd” Gyu pouted.

You once again found yourself laughing at your friends, only for your smile to fade when you see Jungwon’s username pop up on the left side of your discord showing you had a message from him.

You opened it seeing it was just him asking for an invite to the league match, which you ignored. You already practiced enough with him today and will all day tomorrow as well. He can deal with it.

Jungwon slouched down in his chair, staring at the discord message he sent you, debating if he should send you a call instead, but stopped at the sound of your laughing and hearing Huening Kai’s name come from your mouth.

Jungwon sighed, you were clearly with your friends.

—

The second day of practice also flew by quickly, the first competition day being finally here.

The competition was being held at a small center, just big enough for the gaming clubs and the officials.

Your team was placed in the third round of brackets, so there was plenty of time to get your nerves under control.

You sat in the bleachers, watching the current game on the massive screen in the middle of the room that was filled with each player's screen.

“There you are,” Jungwon said, flicking his index finger to your hat and sitting beside you, “You ready?”

You shrugged, “We practiced enough, I was confident until watching the way some of the teams from other schools play.”

Jungwon nodded, “Yeah they are good, but we are better.”

You looked at him, his eyes slowly finding their way to yours as well, “You’re competitive through and through aren’t you?”

He smiled so wide his cute dimples you loved so much as kids made their appearance, his ego also coming through, “Well yeah, of course! I am literally the best gamer in our club.”

You rolled your eyes, dropping your chin into your hands, “I can’t stand you.”

“I hear that often.” He teased, reaching up and taking your hat off your head.

“Hey! Give it back!”

“Since when did you start wearing hats?” Jungwon asked, placing the hat on his head, “How do I look?”

“It brings me luck! Now give it!”

You snatched it from him, placing it back on your head.

“Damn,” he hissed, “Didn’t bring you enough luck since you got stuck with me as your teammate.”

Jungwon stretched his legs out and leaned back on his hands, releasing a sigh and shaking his head.

All you could do was stare at him, you struck a nerve with him.

The final round ended, calling for the next bracket of players to make their way to the gaming area.

“Come on,” Jungwon stood up, sliding his hands in his pockets, “Let’s kick some ass so we can go back to the hotel.”

You studied him and his body language, this wasn’t like the normal Jungwon you knew.

He sat quietly in his chair as he placed his headphones over his ears and set his mic up properly to his liking.

You tried to focus on the monitor before you, but the tension was high between you and your teammate. You already knew being on the same team as him was going to be hard, you just didn’t expect this.

The announcer started the game, and your focus narrowed in.

Jungwon’s whole demeanor changed right back into the competitive boy you knew the moment the game started.

Before you knew it, you and Jungwon were being crowned as the victors of the first day, moving on to the next round.

—

The gaming cafe went larger as the teams from your school who didn’t make it past the first round were sent home.

The second round was Overwatch, which sent you and Yunjin looking at each other from across the cafe from the excitement.

Since Overwatch is a six-player team, two other teams will be put together for this round.

The first and second day of practice came and went. Your confidence boosts knowing this next round will be a piece of cake.

You jumped onto your gaming PC, loading up overwatch and fixing to send Yunjin an invite when your phone vibrates, receiving a call from Jungwon. You ignored the call, hovering over Yunjin’s discord username when a string of texts spams your phone.

Jungwon made his way inside your hotel room, pushing his chair with his laptop and snacks in it.

“We can’t be up too late you know,” you raised a brow at him, “We have to be at the center early.”

Jungwon shrugged, setting up his laptop beside yours, “We can play for about an hour or so.”

Jungwon watched as you sat down beside him, pulling your headset over your ears.

His heart raced to see you in your cute pink sweatpants and black hoodie, your hair pulled back into a messy bun.

His palms got clammy from the sudden nervousness that washed over him. He’s known you since birth and sees you as a good rival, why is he so nervous over you right now?

Maybe it’s because all Jungwon wants to do is confess everything he’s been hiding all these years.

That he hopes being on this team with you can rekindle what was broken and win you back, but so far it hasn’t worked.

He opens his mouth to say something, just to close it just as quickly, and sets his eyes on his laptop screen.

As the overwatch game went on, the more friendly the both of you became with each other. With small jokes and Jungwon reaching over to press random keys on your laptop just for you to swing his hand out the way as you laugh.

God, it made his heart race even more. To finally feel like things were back in place.

You had to admit you enjoyed this moment. It felt like you actually had your childhood best friend back.

But how long would this moment actually last? Until you got back on campus for the rivalry just to start again?

You cleared your throat, snapping Jungwon’s attention to you, “It’s late, I think you should leave.”

Jungwon’s smile faded, nodding softly as he gathered his things, leaving you alone in the room.

—

Your overwatch team left the gaming area cheering. You’ve made it to the final round.

Yunjin’s and even Heeseung’s teams were knocked out early on in the day. Which made you sad to see your best friend go.

Heeseung was stuck there since You and Jungwon were the only team left from your club still in the game, which surprised you that Heeseung was knocked out. He was the best gamer you knew.

The final contestants that remained, pulled you against your will to a bar to party.

Both you and Jungwon weren’t social butterflies, but Jungwon was able to blend in with the other students perfectly fine.

You, on the other hand, were slowly inching your way closer to the front entrance, making your sweet escape.

Tucking your hands into your jacket pockets, you slowly made your walk back to the hotel, thinking you finally got some peace until you heard the scuffling of shoes running after you.

“Y/N!!”

You rolled your eyes, you just can’t get away from him, can you?

“What, Jungwon?” you sigh, walking a bit faster.

“Where are you going? I noticed you were gone.”

“Back to the hotel, obviously. Please go away.”

Jungwon could sense something was…off.

“Hey,” his voice filled with concern as he wrapped his hand around your forearm, “Y/N what’s wrong?”

You shook your arm from his grip, staring daggers at him.

Jungwon dropped his arms at his side, raising his eyebrows at you, “What? Why are you angry with me now?”

You groaned, “Because! You won’t leave me alone!”

Jungwon scoffed, “Maybe I want to spend time with you? With my teammate? Is that so bad? We literally kicked ass today, yet you’re upset with me?”

“Yes! You’ve been acting more friendly than normal with me lately! Not your usual teasing me and showing off like you’d always do!”

Jungwon narrowed his brows at you, very much confused, “You hate me when we are rivals, and now you hate me for trying to be friends with you? Pick a fucking struggle Y/N.” he shoved his hands into his jean jacket pockets, twisting the hand warmers with his fingers as a distraction.

You laughed, “Why are you even trying to be friends with me anyway?! Everything is just going to go back to normal once we step foot back on campus! So why?! All you have done is suffocate me since we’ve been here!” you took a deep breath, rubbing your fingertips at your temples, “I was so looking forward to having a somewhat relaxing time here with Yunjin as my teammate and us as normal rivals but good lord my luck has actually been shitty like you stated the other day.”

Jungwon licked his bottom lip as he stared down at his sneakers, trying to keep his eyes dry, “I asked Heeseung to put us on a team together.”

You looked at him confused, your body relaxing a little, “What?”

Jungwon looks back up at you, his eyes glossed over, “I asked Heeseung to pair us up. The plan was originally to have everyone draw names from a bowl but I…” he looks away from you, staring off down the street, “I asked him to just pair people up and make it seem like it was random and to just give me you.”

Snow started to fall from the sky, slowly collecting in his soft dark hair.

“Why…?” you softly whispered.

Jungwon chuckled, reaching a hand to scratch his face as if it would help him find the right words, “Because I wanted to rekindle our friendship. I wanted to leave this competitiveness behind us. To fix what got broken, Y/N, it’s my fault why things got the way they are now.”

You didn’t know what to say, so you stood there, continuing to listen to him.

“I thought it was just us having fun, just two kids being stupid until it got to my head. I enjoyed winning. I enjoyed the praise from everyone. And because of that, our little games turned into hatred. To us being enemies. It’s my fault that I let go of our friendship. I kept this rivalry going for all these years because it was the only way I could keep you in my life.”

You looked down at the ground, your hat covering him out of your sight completely.

Jungwon took a deep breath, “I miss you. So fucking much. I wanted this trip to bring you back to me. That’s why I tried so hard. I wasn’t trying to suffocate you, that’s the last thing I want.”

His footsteps got closer to you, and by habit, you clasped your fingers on your hat bill, pulling it down as you looked even further away.

“Y/N, look at me please.”

You were scared too, scared to look at him and he sees how much you’ve also missed him. That you were blinded by the rivalry into thinking you hated him. You wanted your best friend back, but did you deserve him?

Suddenly you felt the pull of your hat being taken. Jungwon’s fingers lift the bill up exposing your face.

You made eye contact with him not even for a second before his free hand cupped your jaw and pressed his lips to yours.

Jungwon pulled your body closer to him, deepening the kiss as his tongue pressed against your lips to allow it in, sliding it against your own tongue.

Your hand gripped the openings of his jacket, holding on for dear life as your head spun.

The last thing you expected tonight was to make out with your best friend as the snow fell.

But it was romantic nonetheless.

The sounds of a car honking on the street pulled you two back to reality.

You jumped away from Jungwon, wrapping your jacket around your body.

Jungwon smiled, placing your hat back on your head, pulling the bill down way too far in a way to tease you.

“I am also in love with you, Y/N.” Jungwon didn’t expect him confessing his feelings to you would be exactly like this, but what better way than right now as he’s teasing you like old times?

Once Jungwon’s hand was gone from your head you looked up at him, trying to make sure you heard what he said correctly.

Jungwon rubbed his thumb against your cheek, “I have been in love with you for as long as I can remember,” he tucked his bottom lip between his teeth and then released it along with a sigh, “I’ve loved you even as kids. For some reason, I always knew I loved you, and as the years went on, I only came to understand my feelings for you more and more.”

Jungwon slid his hand from your face down to your hand, taking it in his own, “That's another reason I asked Heeseung to pair me with you. I wanted to apologize for letting you go, for choosing the competitive life over the one we could have had together if I never let you go. If I told you from the start how I felt.”

Before you could say anything, the partying students finally left the bar, their loud voices echoing over to you and Jungwon, causing him to drop his hand to his side, taking a few steps away.

“Let’s go, we have a long couple of days ahead of us.”

The walk back to the hotel was quiet.

—

The last and final round of the competition was a battle royale.

Jungwon bounced in his chair, excited as battle royale was his favorite.

You, on the other hand, weren’t the best at them.

No amount of practice the last couple of days was enough to prepare you.

You even snuck over to Jungwon’s room and begged him to help you, letting you in with a roll of his eyes saying you would do perfectly fine.

You were good at battle royale, yes, but after finding out the team you were up against was KNOWN as battle royale players.

You even so much as went and stalked their Steam and Twitch accounts. All they play is battle royales.

The day of the finale came faster than you’d like.

You twisted your fingers together as you stared off in the distance of the gaming area, your headphones dangling around your neck.

Jungwon looked over at you, placing his hand on top of yours.

You looked over at him, his dimple smiling being enough to relax you.

“It’s okay, we will kick ass,” There he goes with his confidence, “I am the best at battle royales, and you are also good at them, we got this. Just stick to me.”’

You nodded, giving a soft pout when he looked away and released his hand from yours.

The announcer started the game, and the finale began.

You stuck to Jungwon like glue, looting the area and switching guns out for better ones as the timer ran down.

One by one you and Jungwon took out each team you came into contact with, but that was solely because of the fact Jungwon always comes in clutch in hard situations.

Until it came down to the last two teams. Yours and the team you were worried about.

Jungwon gave orders as you followed him to the next and final circle, sliding and hiding behind a building.

Jungwon pulled his sniper out, aiming down sights to see where the enemy team could be. You crept into the building, doing one last final round of looting and reloading, ready to walk out, when Jungwon screamed beside you.

“Wonnie?! What?!”

“Don’t leave that building!”

You did as you were told, peaking your head out a window, seeing Jungwon down one of the players, just for the second one to pop out of nowhere and down him.

“Fuck!” Jungwon scoffed, dropping his headset down around his neck and rolling his chair to your side, staring at your screen.

“Y/N, you need to down him before he picks up his teammate.”

Your fingers shake against the keyboard, as you quickly run out from the building.

“You got this,” Jungwon reassured you.

You run up behind the other player, “What if I don’t?”

“Baby, listen to me,” him calling you baby was enough to make your heart race even more, “You got this, okay?”

You nodded, switching your guns quickly just in time for the other player to turn around and start shooting, but you were quicker. Sliding out of the way, and getting up behind him with a shotgun in hand, pulling the trigger and downing him. The title of winner flashed across your screen.

“I did it!” you shouted, turning to look at Jungwon, “We did it!”

Jungwon high-fives your hands, his fingers intertwined with yours, shaking your hands back and forth, “We did it!”

With no hesitation, you leaned forward, pressing a quick kiss to his lips.

Jungwon was too stunned to say anything, eyes blinking rapidly.

You pulled your headset down around your neck, letting yourself hear the outside world.

“I am in love with you too,” You smiled, heart nearly beating out of your chest, “I always have been and just covered it up with the hatred I had. I’ve missed you too, and you weren’t actually suffocating me, I said that out of anger and confusion, I—“

That’s all Jungwon needed to hear, shutting you up by pressing his lips back to yours, cupping your hands softly between his hands.

All he cared about was winning you back, and he did. Winning the gaming competition was just a bonus.

He made you fall for him all over again, only he fell harder than he did before.

#wonnie #yang jungwon #jungwon #jungwon x reader #reader x jungwon #enhypen #reader x enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen fanfic #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enemies to lovers #yeonzzzn writing

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laresearchette · 2 years ago

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Sunday, April 16, 2023 Canadian TV Listings (Times Eastern)

WHERE CAN I FIND THOSE PREMIERES?: THE WHOLE STORY WITH ANDERSON COOPER (CNN) 8:00pm 100 FOOT WAVE (HBO Canada) 8:00pm ALEX VS AMERICA (Food Network Canada) 9:00pm LEGUIZAMO DOES AMERICA (MSNBC) 10:00pm CIAO HOUSE (Food Network Canada) 10:00pm BARRY (HBO Canada) 10:00pm

WHAT IS NOT PREMIERING IN CANADA TONIGHT?: CHAOS ON THE FARM (TBD - Lifetime Canada) VERY SCARY PEOPLE (TBD - HLN)

NEW TO AMAZON PRIME CANADA/CBC GEM/CRAVE TV/DISNEY + STAR/NETFLIX CANADA:

CRAVE TV BARRY (Season 4, episodes 1-2) THE 100 FOOT WAVE (Season 2, Episode 1)

NETFLIX CANADA LOVE IS BLIND SEASON 4 REUNION SPECIAL THE NUTTY BOY PART 2

IIHF WOMEN’S HOCKEY (TSN/TSN4) 3:00pm: Bronze Medal Game (TSN/TSN4) 7:00pm: Gold Medal Game

GRAND SLAM OF CURLING (SN1) 1:00pm: Players' Championship - Women's Final (SN/SN1) 5:00pm: Players' Championship - Men's Final

MLB BASEBALL (SN Now) 1:30pm: Twins vs. Yankees (SN) 1:30pm: Rays vs. Jays (TSN2) 7:00pm: Rangers vs. Astros

MLS SOCCER (TSN2) 2:00pm: CF Montreal vs. DC United (TSN2) 4:30pm: LA Galaxy vs. LAFC

NBA BASKETBALL (SN360) 3:00pm: Lakers vs. Grizzlies - Game #1 (SN360) 5:30pm: Heat vs. Bucks - Game #1 (TSN3/TSN5) 8:00pm: Clippers vs. Suns - Game #1 (TSN3/TSN4/TSN5) 10:30pm: Timberwolves vs. Nuggets - Game #1

BEST IN MINIATURE (CBC) 7:00pm (SEASON FINALE): In the season finale, the top three artists have a yard sale before completing their homes and fighting for the $15,000 grand prize and the title of Best in Miniature.

SULLIVAN'S CROSSING (CTV) 7:00pm: Maggie makes a difficult decision after Sully lets his temper get the best of him.

FIRE MASTERS (Food Network Canada) 7:00pm: The Patridge family is ready to find out who has the fiercest flame game; they have a bone to pick with each other in the battle of the bones; it's time to turn up the heat with feasts as hot as the grills.

THE MASKED SINGER UK (Game TV) 7:30pm: Featuring Jacket Potato vs Fawn, Rubbish vs Pigeon, and Piece of Cake vs Rhino.

CANADIAN SCREEN AWARDS (CBC) 8:00pm: With host Samantha Bee.

ESSEX COUNTY (CBC) 9:00pm: Anne visits her daughter at university, where old ambitions are reignited; Ken gets news that makes the future more settled; Lester realizes he is not alone in his grief; Lou searches for peace.

A TOWN CALLED MALICE (Showcase) 9:00pm (SERIES PREMIERE): The youngest son of a South London crime family must flee 1980s London for Spain.

RENOVATION RESORT (HGTV Canada) 10:00pm (SEASON FINALE): All four vacation rental cabins are completely transformed and the exhausted teams are surprised to discover that they have to compete in a rock the dock challenge for one last time; this is their final chance to impress Scott and Bryan.

THE CURSE OF OAK ISLAND (History Canada) 10:00pm: As time is running out, an exciting find in the swamp may have the fellowship rewriting the history of North America.

THE CURSE OF OAK ISLAND: DRILLING DOWN (History Canada) 11:00pm: Matty joins the fellowship as they look back on all the incredible clues and connections they've discovered over the last decade of the treasure hunt.

#cdntv #cancon #canadian tv #canadian tv listings #best in miniature #sullivan's crossing #canadian screen awards #essex county #a town called malice #renovation resort #the curse of oak island: drilling down #the curse of oak island #iihf women's hockey #curling #mlb baseball #mls soccer #nba basketball

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socialkid · 1 year ago

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Imagine…

It’s a casual Saturday afternoon in the middle of June. The sun is out with mild wind, it was the perfect weather. And when the weather is nice like this, everyone knows to watch out for you. Because around this time, you’re shopping. Shopping, shopping, shopping. You run from store to store buying everything in sight. Most of the time with your money, which makes your boyfriend mad. He likes to pay for you.

You boyfriend: Bakugou who knows you love shopping. The days when you have free time, what are you doing? Shopping. The nights where Bakugou’s pacing up and down your apartment because you won’t answer the phone then suddenly, you come bursting through the front door with a bunch of shopping bags. He knows. If anyone knows it’s him.

This morning Bakugou had gotten a call and he was reminded that he had a day off from the agency he worked at. So when he woke you up to ask what you wanted to do today, he wondered why he asked, already knowing your answer.

Now you and Bakugou were walking through the strip mall, him holding two of your bags in one hand and his other holding yours.

“Are we done yet? I wanna take you dinner and we can’t be here all day.” Bakugou asked, grunting as he readjusted your bags.

“Not even close babe,” you said with a quickness as he groaned, “Besides, it’s only two o’clock. You don’t want to just sit around till dinner do you?” You asked him.

“Yea yeah.” He said.

You looked through the windows of the stores as they went by. Preppy, pink and frilly stores, tomboy stores, casual clothing stores, toy stores, and so much more.

“Where we goin’ next huh?” Bakugou asked, looking through some of the bags he was holding. “Hmmm probably Spencer’s, then we could hit up the food court for Auntie Anne’s, and then Foreve-” you stopped in your tracks at a merch store. The window displayed, shirts and hats of merchandise by well known creators.

Bakugou looked at you as you made googly eyes at the coryxkenshien merch, worn by a mannequin. “Y/n…don’t start-” your boyfriend was interrupted by you squealing and jumping. “Just go in the damn store already.” Bakugou sighed as you rushed in. Bakugou made his way in behind you slowly after. Not even 15 seconds later and he had already lost you.

He made his way around the store looking for you, and calling your name every once in a while. He got the idea to check by the Cory section. No sign of you. He checked the sections of your favorite artists and creators, still no sign of you.

He had actually started to become a little panicky. “Y/n? Where are you?” He raised his voice. He knew you were smart, the complete opposite of vulnerable. You could help yourself if you needed to. Even without using your quirk, you can handle anyone. But still, Bakugou wanted to make sure you were safe.

Bakugou had checked almost every area of the store and he had continued to worry. Before resorting to shouting your name he saw a section under a sign that wrote “Heroes”.

As soon as he entered, your voice began to fade in, “Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my goshhh!” Bakugou walked past all the merchandise: Earser Head, Red Riot, Chargebolt, and more. He finally stopped when he saw you gazing at a triple layered table, sitting under a sign labeled “Dynamite”.

There on the table was a clear representation of Katsuki himself. The black and orange shirts and pants, hoodies labeled ‘Dynamite’ in black and orange letters, and miniature sized Dynamite plushies.

Bakugou couldn’t help but grin a little bit when you turned around to face him, already wearing a baseball cap with his named labeled onto it. “Babe! Look! It’s you! Everywhere! Oh my gosh!” You said smiling from ear to ear. “I can see that y/n.” He said sarcastically, chuckling a bit, “Calm down, you can get what you want I’ll pay for it.”

He didn’t have to tell you twice. You picked up everything that had his name on it. Hoodies, tank tops, hats, water bottles, stuffed plushies, fake tattoos, etc. You also stashed a few items by Shoto, Red Riot, and even one or two Deku items.

You were so excited for your items. So excited you didn’t pay attention to the shocked face of the cashier ringing up all the Dynamite merchandise, as she looked at Dynamite behind you.

After that nothing else in the mall seemed interesting. At this point you were ready to go home before dinner and check out your man’s merch.

After that day, you made sure to put your items to use. You were always flaunting your boyfriend and you made sure everybody knew it.

One night your boyfriend had called you up and asked if he could sleepover at your apartment. And when he arrived he was meet with you, wearing an oversized Dynamite shirt. He couldn’t help his intentions that night. And when everything was done, you cuddled up next to your Dynamite plushie and your life sized Dynamite.

“You love me don’t you?” Bakugou asked, you could practically hear his grin.

“Yup, both of you.”

#bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #bakugou x yn #boku no hero academia #bakugou x you #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugou fluff #bakugou imagine #bakugou katsuki x reader

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vinyldreamsfuckup · 6 months ago

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Long Time Coming

Warnings: fluff, dad slash, kissing, sexual innuendos

A: idk what this is but I just kept imaging young Slash as a dad. So this was born lol hopefully it’s not terrible. This is set in ‘95. Think of that Howard Stern interview 🫣🫣 should I write how Lily was conceived? 🙈

When you and Slash had your daughter Lily, you thought it was the best day of your lives. After months of traveling with Slash on tour you finally had given birth to Lily. You watched Slash with her. The way he would just melt every time he saw her. It honestly made you even more attracted to him. Lily had Slash’s curls and most of his features, but she had your eyes and lips. Everyone would always tell you two how much Lily looked like Slash and Slash would respond with, “But she’s got her momma’s eyes.”

It was his favorite part. The fact that she had your eyes and could see you in her. A little miniature version of the two of you. You two worked hard to raise her even while Slash was recording and going out on tour. Now touring with Snakepit Tensions were high with Guns right now, but today none of it mattered. Today was Lily’s third birthday. And she couldn’t wait to have her party with Slash here and see Uncle Axl. She came running down the hall toward Slash and you chuckled as you walked behind her. Her little curly pigtails bounced. She was wearing little jeans and converse and a pink shirt with butterflies on it.

“Daddy! Daddy!” Lily yelled as she ran toward Slash. He turned. His hair was pulled back into a ponytail and he had a baseball cap on. He was wearing some horror movie t-shirt. His bracelets jingled against his arms and his necklaces hung low. He looked so fucking hot.

“Lily! Baby,” Slash smiled and leaned down scooping her up. Lily giggled and grabbed Slash’s necklaces, “Happy Birthday.”

“Tank you!” Lily giggled out. Your heart warmed as you looked at him. She had a huge grin on her face as she looked up at Slash whose eyes were just full of love for his daughter. Slash looked up at you.

“And look at mom. She looks beautiful,” Slash said to Lily. You chuckled and walked over to him and kissed his cheek.

He turned your attention to you, “look at you.”

You were wearing a Motörhead t-shirt and jeans. Nothing special but he looked at you like you were the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. You looked down at your outfit and chuckled.

“I’m wearing what I always wear,” You said with a smile as you walked toward the kitchen. Slash followed behind you.

“Yeah well you’re sexy,” Slash smiled. You chuckled and started pulling food out of the fridge for the party.

“You’re still holding our daughter,” you said with a chuckle as you pulled plastic wrap off of platters.

“Mmm,” he covered Lily’s ear, “remember how we made her?”

“Slash!” You chuckled playfully. He grinned and kissed Lily’s forehead. The doorbell rang and Slash walked over to answer it. Axl was standing at the door holding presents. Slash tried to smile and Lily started giggling.

“Axl! Axl!” Lily yelled. Slash chuckled and Axl held his hands out taking her. Soon the party was in full swing. Lily was practically death gripping Axl and you were bringing out platters of food. People were swimming in the pool and music was playing. It was beautiful.

Slash walked up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist. You leaned into his touch and rested your head on his chest, “I love you.”

You chuckled and looked up at him, “I love you too.”

Slash turned you around and cupped our face before kissing you deeply and passionately, “we could sneak away.”

He mumbled against your lips. You chuckled, “it’s our daughter’s birthday.”

You pulled away and looked up at him. He smiled and bit his lip. He looked around, “She’d never know.”

You laughed again and kissed him. Lily ran over to us, “mommy! Daddy! Look at Uncle Axl.”

Slash pulled away and looked over at Axl who had a giant knot in his hair.

“I braid,” Lily said with a smile. Slash chuckled and picked her up. He kissed her cheek and Lily giggled.

“You sure did, my love,” Slash said with a smile.

You looked at them together and couldn’t help but feel complete. This was all you could have ever wanted.

#guns n roses #slash gnr #slash guns n roses #gnr smut #guns n roses fanfic #guns n roses fluff #guns n roses smut #imagine #slash fanfiction #slash fluff #axl gnr #slash x reader #slash serpentine🐍#gnr fanfiction #gnr x reader #saul hudson

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fayes-fics · 2 years ago

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Mrs Bridgerton

Mrs Bridgerton Masterpost

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, modern AU

Summary: Modern AU. Your ex-husband craves you in a way you had no idea about until one fateful call...

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors dni, explicit language and thoughts, dirty talk, sexting, sex tape, masturbation, pregnancy kink, smidge of breeding kink. Mentions of marriage, divorce, pregnancy, custody, parenting, heartbreak, emotions. Bit angsty maybe? Not sure.

Word Count: 4.3k

Authors Note: This is an anon request fill from January here. (tldr summary: ex-husband Benedict can't stop thinking about you) Nonny, I changed up a couple of details of your ask; the porn he watches is your old sex tapes from when you were married. Also, he doesn't call once he was spent; he accidentally calls very much in the act ;) I hope that is okay. Guys, I have no idea what this is; sorry. Thanks to @colettebronte for checking I haven't completely lost it and @eleanor-bradstreet for the gif used above. <3

“Mrs Bridgerton!.... Mrs Bridgerton!” A teacher calls out across the playing field as she jogs towards you. It takes you a few seconds to realise she is indeed addressing you. It's been a couple of years since you went by that name—almost a ghost from the past at this point.

“Ah, actually, it’s Ms y/l/n now,” you correct as she draws closer. “I’m, well, I’m divorced from Emilia’s dad,” you explain somewhat apologetically.

“Oh, I am so very sorry! I'm new here. I just asked her if her parents were here, and she pointed you out.”

“No, no, it’s okay. It's an entirely fair assumption to make,” you placate, shielding your eyes from the sun to catch Emilia's gaze and give her the thumbs up at the end of the grassy running track.

“Well, I just need one of you to sign this permission form for the trip to the Science Museum next week,” the teacher states, thrusting a clipboard towards you.

“Oh certainly, no problem,” you assure, taking the proffered pen and signing on the dotted line she indicates. You know how excited Emilia is about that upcoming trip, even though she insists on going to the museum with you or her father at least once every few months.

“Wonderful, thank you.”

You just nod as another teacher brings them all to the starting line with a blast from their whistle, and your focus shifts entirely to cheering on your five-year-old daughter in her first school race.

-----

He knows you haven't seen him, and he doubts even Emilia has clocked him, wearing a baseball cap pulled low as he is. He deliberately keeps a low profile when you arrive. He is here to see Emilia on her first sports day. Only that. Or so he keeps telling himself.

But then he sees you, and something in his stomach knots hard. It’s been more than two years, and still, every time, it floors him. A few months after your split, he took to using Eloise as the go-between for your shared custody arrangements and has never stopped. Since then, he has not seen you in person, too cowardly to face you. His biggest mistake was letting you go.

You met in your late twenties at a party hosted by mutual friends, and that night, he knew his life would never be the same. Something about the connection was instant and electric. He had the best sex of his life, right there in a spare room of a party. Both drunk and foolish, you didn't use protection. So it was only a few weeks into your burgeoning relationship when you found yourselves staring dumbfounded at a blue and white stick that would alter your lives forever. You married quietly two months later at the town hall, with just a few family members and close friends attending, neither of you wanting a big fuss. It was a big gamble in many ways, but you were both willing to try, crazily in love and filled with a youthful optimism that can be so blinding.

All was well until parenting a newborn drove you both to exhaustion and beyond. A wedge grew between you, even as your beautiful daughter developed into the best miniature version of both of you, with his beauty and your brains. You tried to make it work. But bickering about petty things and distancing became the only constant in your dynamic. Part of him had hoped Emilia would be enough glue to hold you together, but it was too much to pin on a small child. Just after her third birthday, he watched his world crumble as you tearfully packed up your possessions and took the light from his life with you.

And now. Now it's a regret that haunts him every day. Replaying the mistakes he made over and over, the ones that meant you slipped through his fingers. Too preoccupied with his career frustrations and plagued by chronic lack of sleep to realise the damage before it was irreparable. He knows now, too late, that with a little more effort and compromise, perhaps you would still be together as a family. He certainly never stopped loving and desiring you.

So when the teacher calls out Mrs Bridgerton, his heart almost stops beating and, to his shame, there is a stirring in his jeans. God, he wishes that was still your name, so much so there is a bitter taste in his mouth as he watches you correct the teacher in an endearingly accommodating way. A large part of him wants to leap up and grab you, lift you into his arms, beg that you use the name again. His name. But he doesn't; he just lingers in melancholic reverie, recalling with perfect clarity how it felt to push the white gold band shakily onto your left hand as you recited your vows.

Then with a sharp nearby whistle blow signifying the race start, his focus is pulled back to why he is here. His little wonder, the centre of his universe. Emilia Bridgerton. The most beautiful person on the planet.

“Go, Emilia!!” he shouts, transfixed as his little girl moves out ahead of the pack, unthinking of anything but supporting his baby girl.

-----

Your head cuts to the side, and you freeze. You would recognise that voice anywhere. And how many Emilia’s can there be in the race?

He's not looking at you; his whole focus is on the field, but you can't seem to look away. Not even to watch your precious daughter. You haven't seen your ex-husband in more than two years. Using his sister as a go-between just seems like the best way to deal with your residual guilt about leaving him. But now? One look and your insides feel like you are falling down a chasm, lungs suddenly too small for the breaths you need to take.

Time seems to slow like molasses as you observe him. He’s wearing a baseball cap, almost akin to a disguise, but you can see underneath it that profile that still makes your heart flutter. Too much, really, considering you are exes. But his beauty was never the problem; it was part of the reason you always stayed. Those soulful eyes would draw you back every time. Those eyes that now haunt you daily, the Bridgerton genes far too strong not to override all of yours. Emilia is the prettiest little female version of your ex-husband you could ever imagine, and it's both your greatest joy and your greatest pain point, living with a growing reminder of the person who still owns your heart regardless of how much you might wish otherwise.

Looking back now, leaving him was an impetuous decision made from a place of utter exhaustion, not able to see a way out of the treadmill your lives had become at that time. But pride stopped you from admitting perhaps you made a mistake, serving divorce papers before you could think too hard about it. He didn't contest and agreed to all of your terms of custody without a fight. You didn't ask for spousal support; you earned more from employment anyway, most of his income coming from his trust. You never loved him for the Bridgerton name or fortune; in fact, sometimes, it felt like you loved him in spite of it.

And now, one look at him, and you are breathless and in a complete emotional and, yes, physical quagmire. Your body yearning for him, your traitorous brain supplying image after tumbling image of intimacy, the likes of which you have never known before or since—warm bodies wrapped around each other in ecstasy, that velvet voice pleading with you to come with him, for him, always so eager. It makes your chest heave so hard you have to look away to regain composure, doing so just in time for the universe to seemingly return to normal speed, as you watch Emilia cross the line, victorious in her first-ever race.

You cannot help it; you leap up and cheer too. And she looks over, beaming and jumping up and down. Running towards you and throwing herself into your arms as you kneel with a huge grin.

“Mummy mummy mummy!!” she peals excitedly, her breath gusting hard into your ear. “I did it! I won!”

“I know; well done!” you exclaim, rocking her happily in your arms. “You did wonderfully!!!”

“Did I see Daddy?” she asks, craning over your shoulder. You tense and swivel yourself to follow her eye line, but where he was standing just moments ago, there is now just an empty patch of grass.

“Oh, I don't think so, my love; it was probably someone else’s daddy who looks similar,” you suggest, the lie feeling odd on your tongue, It's obvious he doesn't want to be seen, and a part of you is grateful to avoid an awkward meeting. Emilia is still scanning the crowd, unconvinced by your assertion. “How about an ice cream from the van over there?” you offer cheerily, wanting to distract her from looking too hard for him.

“Okay!” she chimes happily, squirrelling a warm little hand into yours and pulling you towards the pedestrian gate.

Out of the corner of your eye, you spy a navy blue Jaguar pulling out of the other gate and know without a doubt it was him.

-----

He couldn't do it. He thought he could, but he feels the weight of your stare and has to leave. The minute Emilia crosses the line, he gives a little victory punch and takes off. Not able to face you. So much of him wants to, but the gutless part of him apparently resides in his leg muscles. Before he knows it, he is in his car and pulling out onto the West London streets, not daring to look back. It's not his day to pick up Emilia; that's still two days away. He would not want you angry for overstepping the agreement you have in place.

As he pulls up at a traffic light, his phone pings a match on the dating app Anthony bullied him into downloading last week. The temptation to fling his phone right out the window is strong. The idea of being with someone else, especially after the tumult of seeing you today, just feels wrong.

The only person he has slept with since your divorce was the second biggest mistake of his life. Someone he met at a bar celebrating Colin’s last birthday after too many whiskeys. A close enough facsimile to you that, through the haze of alcohol, he let himself be seduced. The lizard part of his brain somehow convinced it was you, even as she rode him in a way that chafed. Nothing like the way you moved, positively undulated, on his cock. Regret clung to his skin, the fug of hangover already kicking in as he watched her wordlessly re-dress and leave almost immediately, never exchanging numbers. He never saw her again. The fact he called your name as he came was probably the majority of the problem.

The only thing that stops him from flinging the phone is all the history it contains. Pictures of Emilia growing up from a tiny infant to now. But also his text exchanges with you, that increasingly he finds himself scrolling back through on self-indulgent nights, back to when things were good, and you would send each other little notes of love interspersed with sexting that; even now, he can barely read without getting hard. Unable to resist, as he waits for the light to go green, a dozen or more quick thumb flicks upwards on the thread for your previous number, and he finds some of his guilty pleasures.

8 March, 3:25 pm

Y/N: You had better plough me over the kitchen table when you get home xoxox

4 April, 5:02 pm

BB: Tough work day, need you, babe

Y/N: How’s this, daddy?

Y/N: [photo of your naked glowing, slightly rounded pregnant body]

BB: Fucking helllllll, I am one lucky man

Y/N: Come home, fuck me, daddy

BB: You need to stop calling me that…

Y/N: Why? I am literally pregnant with your child.

BB: Yeah, and that’s why it's so wrong…

Y/N: Just get here, pls. I am so fucking wet….

He is pinch-zooming on the photo, head tilted, his tongue peeking out the corner of his mouth… when a car horn makes him jump, the phone slipping from his grip and falling onto his emergent hard-on.

The traffic light has turned green.

With an apologetic nod in the rearview mirror, he drives off, shaking his head, knowing it’s probably very wrong to be looking at pictures of you, his ex-wife, and wanting to fuck you so bad that his foot leans heavily on the accelerator. His blood pumping hard, already knowing he will be taking himself in hand the minute he gets to his place.

-----

Emilia is happily smushing the cone of her 99 ice cream in her little fist as you walk the few streets to your sister's place, where you left your car earlier. She has kindly agreed to let Emilia stay tonight and have a sleepover with her cousins.

Later, you have your first date since your divorce, and you’ll probably need the rest of the late afternoon to psych yourself up enough to go. You've already cried off so many matchmaking attempts that you had to say yes eventually, just to stop the incessant badgering from all angles. Strangely, this one is Eloise’s doing, and you are still slightly weirded out that your ex-husband’s sister is engineering your first date in more than seven years.

Waving goodbye a few minutes later, you slip into your car and sit for a few deep calming inhales, trying not to think of how much Benedict stole your breath earlier. Some part of you thinks maybe you just imagined him there, a fevered mirage, your subconscious telling you to cancel this stupid date idea and stay home with your two best friends, Ben and Jerry. But then Ameila seemed to think he was there too, and honestly, it feels like you don't know what to do about anything anymore.

-----

He wastes no time, flinging aside the cap, tossing his car keys onto the hallway table and sprinting upstairs to his bedroom, only pausing to insert his noise-cancelling earbuds and discard his clothing.

He is already leaking a little when he throws himself onto the bed and fists his cock with a groan. His other hand is hovering over the play button on the video he definitely knows he shouldn't be watching, hidden in a nondescript folder.

Your soft giggle tickles his eardrums as the video jolts to life. It's one he shot of you on his phone on your honeymoon—it’s one of his favourites lately.

“Bennnnn,” your voice a teasing murmur as the screen fills with a glimpse of your breasts, his hand trying to take a sweeping shot of your body as you writhe underneath him, both of you buried in a soft glow under a tent of sheets wrapped around your bodies.

His own younger self chuckles loud in his ears, behind the camera as he is, both of your breaths loud as the movement becomes more pronounced.

This is him fucking you and filming it. The camera pans down, and there, almost too tough to see in the grainy low light, is his cock surging into you; the shot is never still enough to see in full detail.

Somehow the lack of clarity makes it more of a turn-on. Benedict whines low as his hand moves in a firm motion, jerking hard, losing himself in reminiscence of what it is like to be buried inside you, your scent, younger you panting hard, pleading quietly for him.

His hand speeds up, and he gasps as the video grows more urgent, the noises so loud right in his ear. He can hear the delicious sound of your wet cunt around his shaft, and it's like a sense memory, that viscous heated cling he can never forget.

“Ben, oh god Ben, you are so good, fuck me harder,” younger you moans loudly on the video, and both Benedicts, the old and new, couldn't resist that siren call.

“Y/n, oh god, give me your all, y/n,” Benedict growls, screwing his eyes shut, just relying on the auditory experience of the video now.

But not realising with his slurred speech; it's just given his phone a command…

-----

You are driving towards your place when your hands-free car display lights up with the last name you expect.

Benedict.

Your stomach plunges. Just like earlier when you found yourself staring at him and reimagining so many things you know you shouldn't. You reach over and click the little green button to connect the call, heart in your mouth.

“Ben?” you say his name softly, almost timid. Worried about what it might mean after that strange non-encounter less than an hour ago.

The noise that greets you makes every hair stand on end. It's a throaty groan. He seems to hiss your name, and all you do is frown as your car speakers vibrate with the sound.

“Ben, are you okay?” you check.

“Oh god, I am more than okay, baby,” he growls, and every inch of your body is rioting. “Just please, please don't stop, fuck you feel so good. So tight and hot. I want to live inside you,” the words panted, desperate.

Your foot slips hard on the pedal, and you almost crash into a damn tree.

-----

Your voice sounds different in his ear, and there is a background hum that wasn't there before, but he is so close to something so intoxicating he doesn't think to open his eyes and check the video.

“Talk to me,” he pleads low, knowing you on the video won't respond but somehow still wanting to talk to you regardless, “tell me how you feel.”

There is silence and then a slight shaky exhale.

“Ben.”

“Yes, yes, yes, say my name,” he pleads, leaking over his own knuckle as his hand becomes a frenzy on his cock.

-----

You pull over, quaking. There is only one reason he uses that tone. That's his bedroom voice, and fuck if it doesn't make you as weak now as it did back then. You can only assume his phone has accidentally dialled you while he is what? Masturbating? You flush so hotly at the very thought, and yet you can’t school what you say next. Your treacherous libido taking command of your lips.

“Are you touching yourself for me, Ben?” you breathe, and your clothing suddenly feels too tight, too hot.

Your speakers vibrate your seat as he groans loud and lewdly, and it's a beeline straight for your clit, now throbbing insistently against your car seat.

“Yes baby,” he moans and now, in the background, you can hear it, a slight slapping sound, his cock passing through his fist.

Your pussy clenches instinctually, and you feel a heavy pull, a depth charge of lust. Your lips tingle with the thought of kissing him, running your mouth over his body, wrapping around that cock you remember so well.

“I want you to come for me, Ben,” you plead, a hand straying down between your thighs, scarcely believing what is happening, what you are doing so brazen, parked up on the street mid-afternoon on a Wednesday.

“I will; oh god, I'm going to come so hard,” he snarls. “Do you want it inside you?”

Your fingers glance your clit over your yoga pants, and the heat is overwhelming. “Yes, Ben,” you pant, “inside me, give it to me, give me more of your beautiful babies.”

What you are saying is taboo. And so truthful you don't think to censor it. You would bear as many children as he wants to fuck into you. Still, even now.

“But you are already pregnant with my baby darling,” his voice taking on a softer edge, more wistful, “and you look so, so beautiful.”

You freeze.

“Benedict?” you say quietly.

“Yes, my love,” he purrs.

“Who do you think you are speaking to?” your ask is awkward, screwing your eyes shut, your hand moving away from the apex of your thighs. Suddenly mortified, perhaps it's not you that he thinks he is speaking to after all. Oh shit, did he get someone else pregnant? The panicked bile rises until he sighs the following words.

“Y/n, my wife, my life. God, I miss you so much. I know this must be a fever dream; I know we didn't talk like this in the video, but fuck if it doesn't sound so real,” he ends so wistfully.

“What video?” your question is slow, a weird weight on your chest that is your heart pounding out of control.

“Our honeymoon, darling,” he moans, and you can hear he is still masturbating, although slower-paced now. “When you let me video us fucking. I watch it so much these days that I'm surprised it's not worn out. And yet I can't not; every time I fuck my fist, it's to you.”

“You watch us? Every time you…?” your hand clutching your chest now.

“Yes, my love. I miss you so so much. I should never have let you go. You are my angel, the love of my life, the mother of my child and the only person I ever, ever want to fuck.”

The confession knocks your whole world off its axis. And you crave him. The feeling is so utterly all-consuming you struggle to take your next breath. You have to go to him. You have to see him. It's not even a choice not to. Every fibre of your being needs him.

“Ben,” you murmur, “don't come for me yet; I want to fuck you.”

“You do?” the hope in that gasp makes you lightheaded.

“Yes,” you breathe, “I miss your cock so much.”

You scramble to throw the car into gear and pull out into traffic. You are about a minute's drive away or less if he is home. Something in your movements so very urgent.

“Tell me what you are doing,” you whisper, trying your best to pitch the ask just the right level of seductive as you race down the road, turning into his street.

“I’m fucking my fist,” he moans, “but I wish it were you, my love.”

“I'm almost there,” you pant, pulling into his driveway with almost a squeal of tyres. You grab your phone and jump out of your car, crushing the handset to your ear as you run up to his front door and punch in a code, hoping it's still the one he uses. The crest of victory is palpable as the lock beeps and relents, the door popping open.

“Keep stroking yourself gently,” you order as you close the door and start to disrobe as you bound up the stairs.

“Y/n…” his voice is suddenly tremulant “this…. This isn't a dream, is it?”

“No, Ben, it's not,” you breathe, and you are down to your underwear as you skid into his bedroom, panting.

His eyes are wide with shock as you stride across the room, his cock still in hand and utterly naked; he looks just as delicious as the day you married him.

“Hello, Mr Bridgerton,” you purr.

“Y/n,” he stutters, and it's everything—surprise, desire, hope, relief, yearning and ardent.

“Call me Mrs Bridgerton,” you shoot back, and the responding noise he makes is so utterly feral you almost orgasm without so much as touching him.

-----

Eight months later

“Emilia, not there,” Benedict chuckles good-naturedly.

“Then where daddy?” her pout turns epic as she hands the offending item to him. “You do it!” she huffs.

“Okay, hold still,” he laughs and slides the small tiara into her hair. “See? Just perfect,” he opines, dropping a kiss onto her chestnut tresses.

“I look like a princess!” Emilia exclaims proudly, twisting to look into the mirror.

“Yes, you do,” Benedict concurs. “A pretty princess bridesmaid.”

“The prettiest,” you agree from the doorway, and both heads turn around and greet you with mouths that gape open.

“Oh, Mummy, you look like a real princess!” Emilia gasps, running towards you and giving you a quick hug before skipping out of the room gleefully as her grandmother Violet calls her name from downstairs.

“You look breathtaking,” his tone full of wonderment as he slowly gets to his feet, his eyes never leaving you. “But isn't it bad luck for me to see you like this?” he adds with a flash of concern.

You move towards him, and him towards you, drawn together. “I think we’ve had all the bad luck we are going to have,” you smirk, very much enjoying the sight of him in a sharp, custom-tailored suit. “At least I hope so, seeing as we have this thing to deal with,” you raise an eyebrow, pointing to your five-month bump.

“Thing? Darling, I thought we agreed; his name is Henry,” he sighs in mock indignation, his large hands skating around the swell of your belly, his lips warm on your temple.

“When did I agree to that name?” you frown amiably.

“Last night,” he responds silkily, right into your ear now.

“Oh no, you can’t possibly hold me to that,” you decry. “Anything said when inside me is null and void, Mr Bridgerton; you know I can barely remember my own name at that point.”

His rich chuckle vibrates against your whole body. “Well, let me remind you….”

“I’m listening,” you sigh, eyes closing as you sway into his hot neck kisses.

“It's Mrs Bridgerton,” he rumbles. “Or it will be again in about an hour.”

“I can't wait”, you whisper. “Say it again.”

“Mrs Bridgerton,” A dark, slow tease.

You are almost late for your own (second) wedding just downstairs.

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