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onelastkiss4you · 3 months ago

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Dragon Age: The Veilguard Just Went From A Good RPG To One Of BioWare’s Most Important Games

In light of BioWare scattering some of its most foundational veteran talent to the winds, Dragon Age: The Veilguard sure reads like something made by people who saw the writing on the wall. The RPG leaves off on a small cliffhanger that could launch players into a fifth game, but I’m skeptical that we’ll ever get it. The quickness with which publisher Electronic Arts gutted BioWare and masked it with talk of being more “agile” and “focused” shortly after it was revealed The Veilguard underperformed in the eyes of the power that be makes me wonder if BioWare was also unsure it would get to return to Thedas a fifth time. Looking back, I’m pretty convinced the team was working as if Rook’s adventure through the northern regions of this beloved fantasy world might be the last time anyone, BioWare or fan, stepped foot in it. But that may have only made me appreciate the game even more.

Yeah, I might be doomsaying, but there’s a lot of reasons to do so right now. The loss of talented people like lead writer Trick Weekes, who has been a staple in modern BioWare since the beginning of Mass Effect, or Mary Kirby who wrote characters like Varric, the biggest throughline through the Dragon Age series, doesn’t inspire confidence that EA understands the lifeblood of the studio it acquired in 2007. The Veilguard has been a divisive game for entirely legitimate reasons and the most bad-faith ones you can imagine on the internet in 2025, but my hope is that history will be kinder to it as time goes on.

A Kotaku reader reached out to me after the news broke to ask if they should still play The Veilguard after everything that happened. My answer was that now we are probably in a better position to appreciate it for what it was: a (potentially) final word.

The Veilguard is just as much a send-off for a long-running story as it does a stepping stone for what (might) come. Its secret ending implies a new threat is lurking somewhere off in the distance but by and large, The Veilguard is about the end of an era. BioWare created an entire questline essentially writing Thedas’ history in stone, removing any ambiguity that gave life to over a decade of theory-crafting. As a long-time player, I’m glad The Veilguard solidifies the connective tissue between what sometimes felt like world of isolated cultures that lacked throughlines that made the world feel whole. But sitting your cast of weirdos down for a series of group therapy sessions unpacking the ramifications of some of the biggest lore dumps the studio has ever put to a Bluray disc isn’t the kind of narrative choice you make if you’re confident there’s still a future for the franchise.

Unanswered questions are the foundation of sequels, and The Veilguard has an almost anxious need to stamp those out. Perhaps BioWare learned a hard lesson by leaving Dragon Age: Inquisition on a cliffhanger and didn’t want to repeat the same restriction. But The Veilguard doesn’t just wrap up its own story, it concludes several major threads dating back to Origins and feels calculated and deliberate. If BioWare’s goal with The Veilguard was to bring almost everything to a definitive end, the thematic note it leaves this world on acts as a closing graf summing up a thesis the series hopes to convey.

Pushing away the bigotry that has followed The Veilguard like a starving rat digging through trash, one of the most common criticisms I heard directed against the game was that it lacked a certain thorny disposition that was prevalent in the first three games. Everyone in the titular party generally seems to like each other, there aren’t real ethical and philosophical conflicts between the group, and the spats that do arise are more akin to the arguments you probably get into with your best friends. It’s a new dynamic for the series. The Veilguard doesn’t feel like coworkers as The Inquisition did or the disparate group who barely tolerated each other we followed in Dragon Age II. They are a friend group who, despite coming from different backgrounds, factions, and places, are pretty much on the same page about what the world should be. They’re united by a common goal, sure, but at the core of each of their lived experiences is a desire for the world to be better.

This rose-colored view of leftism doesn’t work for everyone. At its worst, The Veilguard can be saccharine to the point of giving you a cavity, which is far from what people have come to expect from a series in which Fenris and Anders didn’t care if the other lived or died. It also bleeds into a perceived softening of the universe. Factions like the Antivan Crows have essentially become the Bat Family with no mention of the whole child slavery thing that was our first introduction to them back in Origins. The Lords of Fortune, a new pirate faction, goes to great lengths to make sure you know that they’re not like the other pirates who steal from other cultures, among other things. I joked to a friend once that The Veilguard is a game terrified of getting canceled, and as such a lot of the grit and grime has been washed off for something shiny and polished.

That is the more critical lens to view the way The Veilguard’s sanitation of Thedas. To an extent, I agree. We learned so much about how the enigmatic country of the Tevinter Imperium was a place built upon slavery and blood sacrifice, only for us to conveniently hang out in the common poverty-stricken areas that are affected by the corrupt politics we only hear about in sidequests and codex entries. But decisions like setting The Veilguard’s Tevinter stories in the slums of Dogtown gives the game and its writers a place to make a more definitive statement, rather than existing in the often frustrating centrism Dragon Age loved to tout for three games.

I have a lot of pain points I can shout out in the Dragon Age series, but I don’t think one has stuck in my craw the way the end of Anders rivalry relationship goes down in Dragon Age II. This is a tortured radical mage who is willing to give his life to fight for the freedom of those who have been born into a corrupt system led by the policing Templars. And yet, if you’ve followed his rivalry path, Anders will turn against the mages he, not five minutes ago, did some light terrorism trying to free. In Inquisition, this conflict of ideals and traditions comes to a head, but you’re able to essentially wipe it all under the rug as you absorb one faction or the other into your forces. So often Dragon Age treats its conflicts and worldviews as toys for the player to slam against one another, shaping the world as they see fit, and bending even the most fiercely devoted radical to your whims. And yes, there are some notable exceptions to this rule, but when it came to world-shifting moments of change, Dragon Age always seemed scared to assert that the player might be wrong. Mages and Templars, oppressed and oppressors, were the same in the eyes of the game, each worthy of the same level of scrutiny.

Before The Veilguard, I often felt Dragon Age didn’t actually believe in anything. Its characters did, but as a text, Dragon Age often felt so preoccupied with empowering the player’s decisions that it felt like Thedas would never actually get better, no matter how much you fought for it. While it may lack the same prickly dynamics and the grey morality that became synonymous with the series, The Veilguard’s doesn’t just believe that the world is full of greys and let you pick which shade you’re more comfortable with. It’s the most wholeheartedly the Dragon Age universe has declared that the world of Thedas can be better than it was before.

Essentially retconning the Antivan Crows to a family of superheroes is taking a hammer to the problem, whereas characters like Neve Gallus, a mage private eye with a duty-bound love for her city and its people, are the scalpel with which BioWare shifts its vision of how the world of Thedas can change. Taash explores their identity through the lens of Dragon Age’s longstanding Qunari culture, known for its rigidness in the face of an ever-changing world, and comes out the other end a new person, defined entirely by their own views and defying others. Harding finds out the truth behind how the dwarves were severed from magic and still remembers that she believes in the good in people. The heroes of The Veilguard have seen the corruption win out, and yet never stop believing that something greater is possible. It's not even an option in The Veilguard's eyes. The downtrodden will be protected, the oppressed will live proudly, and those who have been wronged will find new life.

That belief is what makes The Veilguard a frustrating RPG, to some. It’s so unyielding in its belief that Thedas and everyone who inhabits it can be better that it doesn’t really entertain you complicating the narrative. Rook can come from plenty of different backgrounds, make decisions that will affect thousands of people, but they can never really be an evil bastard. If they did, it would fundamentally undermine one of the game’s most pivotal moments. In the eleventh hour, Dragon Age mainstay Varric Tethras is revealed to have died in the opening hour, and essentially leaves all his hopes and dreams on the shoulders of Rook. After our hero is banished to the Fade and forced to confront their regrets in a mission gone south, Varric’s spirit sends Rook on their way to save the day one last time. He does so with a hearty chuckle, saying he doesn’t need to wish you good luck because “you already have everything you need.” He is, of course, referring to the friends you have calling to you from beyond the Fade.

Varric, the narrator of Dragon Age, uses his final word to declare a belief that things will be okay. This isn’t because Rook is the chosen one destined to save the world, but because they have found people who are unified by one thing: a need to fight for a better world. But that’s what makes it compelling as a possibly final Dragon Age game. Reaching the end of a universe’s arc and being wholly uninterested in leaving it desecrated by hubris or prejudice is a bold claim on BioWare’s part. It takes some authorship away from the player, but in return, it leaves the world of Thedas in a better place than we found it.

The Veilguard is an idealistic game, but it’s one that BioWare has earned the right to make. Dragon Age’s legacy has been one of constantly shifting identity, at least two counts of development hell, and a desire to gives players a sandbox to roleplay in. Perhaps, as Dragon Age likely comes to a close, it’s better to leave Dragon Age with a game as optimistic as the people who made it. I can’t think of a more appropriate finale than one that represents the world its creators hope to see, even as the world we live in now gives us every reason to fall to despair.

In my review for The Veilguard I signed off expressing hope for BioWare’s future that feels a bit naive in retrospect. Would a divisive but undeniably polished RPG that felt true to the studio’s history be enough when, after 10 years of development, rich suits were probably looking for a decisive cultural moment? That optimism was just about a video game. Having lived through the past 32 years, most of the optimism I’ve ever held feels naive to look back on. I think I’m losing hope that the world will get any better. But even if we haven’t reached The Veilguard’s idealized vision, I’ll take some comfort in knowing someone previously at BioWare still believes it’s possible. - ken shepard, shepardcdr.bsky.social

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covenofagatha · 3 months ago

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Do I wanna know? (Part 1)

Sequel to But you're my stepmom!

Picks up a few months later after your dad and Agatha get divorced and you've started college

Word count: 3.8k

Warnings: fingering, mommy kink, slight angst

Fuck. You do not want to do this.

It’s a Saturday night and you’re here. You should’ve said you had anywhere else to be, but instead, your car almost gets hit as you turn the corner in possibly the narrowest parking garage you’ve ever been in. It makes you swear and you stomp on the brakes so quickly you think you might have a bruise from the seatbelt.

But luckily, you find a spot on the first floor and squeeze between two other cars, muttering a silent prayer that you don’t scrape against them.

You wipe your sweaty palms on your jeans as you get out and walk into the lobby of the apartment complex.

It’s nice, although you hate to admit it. You would surely not mind spending more time here if it didn’t mean having to see—

“Hey, sweet pea!”

Him. You look to your right and plaster on a fake smile when you see your father standing there, slipping his phone into his pocket.

“Hey,” you say softly, awkwardly patting his back with a hand as he embraces you.

He had been asking to get dinner with you at least once a week for the past few months since he and Agatha got divorced. You’ve always found an excuse to get out of it — you had homework, you had exams, you had to work over the summer and you were so tired — but now that it’s your first weekend in college and he knows that you don’t have anything going on, he insisted.

Plus your mom had sort of asked for you to go at least once. Your dad has been sending you updates about his apartment search and random internet posts that he found funny, and having lived at home all summer, you’ve kept your mom in the loop. She is still obsessed with him, always finding ways to bring him up in conversation, and you wish you were brave enough to tell her to just move on. She was absolutely ecstatic when you broke the news about him and Agatha and she’s been pressing you for updates ever since.

Part of the reason she wanted you to go see him was to scope out his new place and see if there was any sign of a new woman. There was still no sign about the lady he was having an affair with, so you weren’t sure if things had ended.

And when he moved out the first time, he took your mom’s can opener and she still won’t let it go. Before you left, she texted you that if you saw it, you should steal it back.

After the divorce went through, your dad had decided to sell the house and look for an apartment a little closer to his work, and he’s lived in this place for about a month now.

“How are you? How’s it going?” he asks as he leads you to the elevator. He presses his fob to the button inside and then floor six. You remember him being so consumed with having one of the top floors, like that would make him seem more important.

You shrug and pick at the peeling skin on your fingers. It’s a bad habit — one of your many. “Pretty good. Syllabus week has been a breeze. Made some new friends.”

“Classes seem like they’ll be fun?” he asks.

“Yeah, I hope so.”

And then a tense silence falls over the both of you. You haven’t actually seen him since your graduation, which was a whole other level of awkward with your mom there too, and you both know that the two affairs and two divorces has put a strain on your relationship.

It does hurt a little. You wish there was a way you could reach over the cold gap between you and go back to how things were when you were a kid, when you actually liked being around him.

But too much has happened.

“Well, I’m really glad you were able to come down for dinner,” he says and you smile tightly. “I can’t wait to show you the place and then we can get whatever you want to eat.”

The elevator dings and you follow him to an apartment a few doors down and he unlocks the door and lets you go first.

The floors are a laminate gray, the counters in the kitchen marble white with black pendant lights over the peninsula. The refrigerator is stainless steel and there’s a completely stocked wine cooler fridge built into the cabinets next to the stove. You walk past the kitchen into the living room where the couches from his and Agatha’s house are set up around an entertainment center with a fireplace and a blue rug under the coffee table.

“What do you think?” he asks, stepping next to you and putting an arm around your shoulders to bring you in close to him.

You take his fancy bachelor pad in again. “Yeah, it’s pretty nice. Maybe just pizza for dinner? We can order and watch a show or something?”

Staying in and having the television as a buffer is a much better plan than going out and having to make small talk that will end up with him on his phone anyway. He agrees and calls to order the pizza while you perch on the couch and scroll on your phone. You already have a text from your mom telling you to call her when you’re done and your chest tightens at the thought of all the shit she’s going to say. It’s fucking exhausting still being in the middle of this — you really thought it would get better, especially now that you’re in college. And yet, here you are.

“So…” your dad starts, plopping down next to you with a groan once he gets off the phone. He grabs the remote and turns the TV on. “You like your roommate?”

Your roommate, Alice Wu, is a sweet girl from out-of-state. You think that you and her will get along just fine and you’ve already agreed on all the rules of cleaning and having friends over. The first week has gone well and you’ve gotten close. “She’s cool. I think she and I will be good friends.”

He nods and turns on a show you watched awhile and the two of you sit in awkward silence until the pizza guy rings from downstairs. You excuse yourself to the bathroom after your dad rings him in.

The bathroom is through the bedroom and you take careful note of the sheets still strewn all over the bed and the two pillows at the top. One nightstand is cluttered with a phone charger, earplugs, a lamp, and a picture of you on your graduation day in a silver frame. It tugs at your heart and you instantly look away, not wanting to feel any more nostalgia.

However, on the other nightstand, there’s just a matching lamp. No hair tie, no other chargers or personal belongings.

But that stuff is easily hidden, so you go into the bathroom. One toothbrush, one retainer case, one razor. You can’t tell if you’re disappointed or glad.

At least you won’t have to listen to your mom talk endlessly about a new woman.

Your dad already has a plate with two slices on it for you sitting in your spot on the couch and you dig into it, suddenly famished. The atmosphere does warm up over time, and it’s no longer uncomfortable silence and you do end up talking a bit about his work and more about your school while the TV plays.

He doesn’t bring up your mom or Agatha at all, and neither do you. In a way, it’s nice to be removed from them for a few hours. Your dad has been villainized by both of them — and obviously he fucked up — but he is still your dad, despite your complicated feelings toward him.

After a few episodes of the show, you shift to get up, grabbing your plate. “You’re leaving already?” he asks and checks his watch.

“Yeah, it’s getting late and I should really be getting back to the dorms,” you say, trying to sound apologetic. Even if the bubble has been nice, you have somewhere you need to be.

It’s hard for your dad to hide his disappointment, but he gets it and grabs his keys to walk you down to your car.

“How’s, uh, how’s your mom doing?” he asks. Still putting me in the middle of all the imaginary drama she’s creating with you is what you want to say. But you know that he’ll call her out for it and you’d have to deal.

“She’s pretty good. Work’s been keeping her busy.” A safe answer. A true answer.

“Good,” he says and shoves his hands into his pockets and you know what’s coming next. “And Agatha? Have you seen her at all?”

Imagines of her hot body on yours flash through your mind. Her rosy nipples, her pale stomach, the heat that swallows up her eyes. “Yeah, I’ve seen her around. She’s doing all right, too, I think.”

Your dad nods and stops at your car. “Well, I had a great time with you,” he says and holds his arms out for a hug. You mutter something in agreement and give him an embrace with two pats — the way you’ve done it since you were a kid. “Let’s do it again soon.”

He tells you that he loves you and after you say it back, you get into your car and he watches you as you drive away.

Begrudgingly, you call your mom and put her on speaker and not even a second later, her voice fills your car.

“How was it? Did you see anything? Is there another woman? Did you find my can opener?” she asks all in one breath and you take a silent, deep breath.

You can’t wait to be home. “It was a pretty nice place actually.” Your mom snorts. “There wasn’t any sign of someone else there and I didn’t have time to look around. We just watched a show and ate pizza.”

She makes a sound. “Wow, father of the year. Maybe he cleaned up the place before you came over.” You hum noncommittally. “What are you doing tomorrow? Want to come over? I’ll take you grocery shopping.”

“Yeah, let me just check my schedule. Alice and I might be doing something, but I’d love to go there for a bit. Especially for groceries,” you tease and she laughs.

“I bet your father didn’t even offer to do that,” she says smugly and your face falls. Sometimes you wonder if she does half the things that she does for you just to one-up him.

“Okay, well I’m almost back now, so I’ll let you know when I’m coming over tomorrow,” you tell her, eager to wrap it up, and about to turn in. “Love you.” You hang up before she’s even done saying it back.

Once you park, you text your roommate saying that you won’t be back for the night — staying with family — and walk up to the apartment side door, letting yourself in with the fob on your key ring.

Agatha’s apartment complex is smaller than your dad’s, but just as nice, and you prefer it a lot more.

After the divorce, she stayed in a hotel for about a week before signing a lease on a place about ten minutes away from where the house used to be. You had helped her pick out the furniture and spent more time here than at your mom’s house the last couple months of school and she gave you a key to it the day she moved in.

It got harder over the summer to hang out with her, as you worked at an ice cream shop in the afternoons into the evenings and she was working her normal nine to five, but you made it work.

Things are really good between the two of you. There isn’t exactly a label on it, per se, but you both know that it’s a relationship. And without your dad in the picture and with her not being your stepmom anymore, there isn’t as much of a need to keep sneaking around — so when she puts an arm around you while you’re walking down the street and kisses your cheek when you say something cute and ghosts her pinky against yours, it’s okay.

You know things might change a little with you in college now, but you’re ready for it. And if you spend more nights at her place than at your dorm, so be it. It’s not like anyone’s going to know, and Alice will just think you’re staying with family.

Unlocking the door, you can practically feel the tension seeping away from your body. Agatha makes everything feel better. Even the house you grew up in, the one your mom still lives in, doesn’t feel as home as this does.

You don’t see her when you first walk in and you walk into the living room to see her typing something on her computer, brows furrowed, and you can just make out the glint of a document through the reflection of her glasses.

“Hey, you,” you greet, kicking off your shoes. She startles and looks up before slamming her laptop shut and smiling.

“Hey, honey,” she says and pats the spot next to her while she leans forward to place her computer on the coffee table. “How was it?”

Agatha had emphatically listened to your incessant complaining about having to get dinner with your dad, but in the end she had also pushed you to go. You groan and flop onto the couch, situating yourself so that your head is in her lap and you’re looking up at her. “It wasn’t that bad,” you admit and she smirks. “Don’t even think about saying ‘I told you so’. I will leave.”

She tosses her head back with a laugh and you play with the strands of hair that’s falling over her shoulder and teasing your face. “I would never, darling. But I’m glad it wasn’t bad. How is he?”

Your nose wrinkles. “Can we not talk about my dad? Although, I was just thinking about how much of a reward I deserve for going.”

“Oh, you think you deserve a reward, do you?” she ribs lightly, raising an eyebrow and poking you in the stomach. You giggle and twist away from her finger before sticking out your bottom lip as pitiful as you can and giving her doe eyes, nodding your head. She rolls her eyes fondly. “What were you thinking, honey?”

You shrug like you’re just now beginning to think about it. “Well, mommy,” you say, a thrill running through you at her sharp gasp. “I think since I was such a good girl, you should give me an orgasm.”

“Oh, just one?” she asks playfully, and you surge up out of her lap, turn over onto your knees to face her, and pull her in for a kiss. Your lips move against each other with familiar ease, her tongue licking hotly into your mouth and you moan — her hands slide up under your shirt and rest on your bare skin before you reach down and take it off.

“As many as you’ll give me, mommy,” you pant, and she grins before starting to suck open-mouthed bites onto your chest. You’re wearing green lingerie but she barely even looks at it before unclasping your bra from behind and tearing it off, throwing it somewhere on the floor.

She swirls her tongue around your nipple before suckling hard and you whimper, holding her head right against you. It feels like there’s a wire running straight from your boob to your cunt and you quickly feel yourself becoming soaked. Agatha switches to the other one and soon your entire chest is sticky with her saliva and you’ve moved onto her lap, squirming.

Her teeth nip at the underside of your breasts and you can’t take it anymore. “Mommy, please,” you beg, grabbing her hand and leading it to the waistband of your jeans. Her fingers rest there while you quickly unbutton and unzip and then you shove her into your pants, your hand circled around her wrist to just feel her.

Agatha chuckles throatily and moves her fingers experimentally against you while you try to grind down for some stimulation. You suddenly feel so empty, a molten heat between your legs, and Agatha crashes her lips back onto yours. She sucks on your tongue and tugs on your bottom lip as she finally presses against your clit and your hips jerk. “So wet for mommy, aren’t you?” she huffs and you nod and try to move against her harder.

When she finally pushes your underwear to the side and runs her fingers through your folds, you keen and bury a hand into her hair, face dropping down into her neck. She sharply gasps when you start breathing heavily against her skin, content to just keep your lips planted against her throat.

She slides a finger into you and your walls clench around her, trying to draw her even more in. Each time she fucks you, it feels like the first time — the same energy is there, the same electricity. But at the same time, she knows exactly what you need, maybe even more than you do.

Her thrusts begin to pick up and heat is rising through your body and you can see little indents in Agatha’s skin from where your teeth have slightly sunk in.

“Mommy, mommy — please, I need more,” you whine and she obliges by pushing another finger into you and curling them just right. A high-pitched sound leaves your mouth and you start riding her fingers the best you can, rolling your hips to match her and get her even deeper. You’re clenching furiously around her as sparks begin to fly in your lower stomach and you can feel the beginning tendrils of your orgasm start to build.

Agatha’s thumb circles around your clit without actually touching it. “God, sweetheart, you look so hot right now, taking my fingers like such a good girl. You feel so good, too. Never wanna leave you,” she babbles, making you convulse even tighter. There’s a slight pink tint to her cheeks and her breathing has picked up and you know she’s affected too. Her fingers are moving faster and she pauses for just a moment, making you whimper, before she stretches you out with a third.

“Oh, fuck,” you swear, your walls adjusting, and the slight burn only adds to the immense pleasure you’re feeling. “Fuck, fuck.” Your head is spinning, completely drunk with her and her perfume that’s been invading your nostrils the whole time, and you can’t even form a single thought.

She presses harder on your clit and with the hand that’s not currently inside you, grips your hair and pulls you away from her neck. You can see red blotches staining her skin and the thought of her wearing your marks around gets you even closer. “Look at me,” she grunts, her thrusts becoming more sporadic and you stare right into her dark blue eyes with your pleading wide ones. Your breaths intermix and she looks like she might also cum just from this.

Agatha lets out a strangled gasp when her gaze flickers from your eyes to your swollen lips to your breasts that are bouncing with your movements in her lap.

“Mommy, I need — right there —” You can’t even string together a coherent thought and she scissors her fingers inside you, the pressure making you see stars.

She looks you up and down again, drinking you in like she might never get enough, and her chest heaves with each breath she takes. “Fuck, baby, you’re so perfect,” she groans and your head falls back as you keep riding her. “I need you to cum for me, okay? Cum for mommy.”

“Mommy, fuck, I’m gonna — fuck I love you,” you groan, not even realizing the words slipping out of your mouth, the words neither of you have ever said before, before it’s too late and your orgasm explodes through your body in a way it never has before. You feel it in every crack and crevice inside you and she keeps fucking you just as hard while rubbing your clit and it quickly becomes too much, tears springing into your eyes.

Agatha’s fingers finally slow down and she coos sweet nothings in your ear and you wonder if she even heard you. It’s been a few months since you’ve been together, but neither of you has really acknowledged the depth between you.

And you just did, in the middle of sex.

“You okay?” she murmurs, pressing a kiss to your cheek and you nod before she pulls out of you and you wince at the sudden emptiness. You fall back out of her lap onto the couch. She must not have heard it.

There’s a slight gnawing feeling that begins to grow in your stomach — if you said it for real, in a moment that couldn’t just be blamed on a dopamine rush, would she say it back?

Does she feel the same?

Agatha kisses you before sticking her three fingers into your mouth so you can clean them up. “Good girl,” she purrs in a low voice. “Was that a good enough reward?”

You’re still a little out of it, but you nod dazedly. “Yeah,” you say softly and she gets off the couch and walks over to the fridge to get you a glass of water. “My mom wants me to go hang out with her tomorrow. What are you doing at night? Can I come over after?”

She pauses for a fraction of a second and then glances at you over her shoulder. “Um, sorry, baby. I have to work all day tomorrow. Some last minute things I’ve got to get done.”

You hum, a little disappointed, but graciously accept the water. “No worries. Maybe Monday or something.”

“Yeah, of course. Just a second, I need to go grab something,” she murmurs and then walks into her bedroom. You’re exhausted and you get off the couch, stretching your aching muscles, and you’re about to follow her when her phone buzzes on the end table.

Thinking it’s just a work email or something, you glance at it and your stomach drops, heart lurches.

It’s a text message from an unknown number.

Can’t wait to see you tomorrow.

@lostbutlovely33 @diorrxckstar @whoreforolderfictionalwomen @katekathry @onemansdreamisanothermansdeath @tayasmellsapples @natashashill @mybraininblood @mysticalmoonlight7 @cactuslover2600 @loveem0mo @readysteddiero-nance @lonelyhalfwitch @lesbiantortilla @crescendoofstars @sol-in-wonderland @ahsfan05 @gbab09 @sasheemo @agathaharness @live-laugh-love-lupone @chiar4anna @fuckedupforkhahn @lowlyjelly @sweetmidnights

#agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness x fem!reader #agatha x reader #agatha x you #agatha harkness x you #agatha harkness smut #agatha smut #agatha all along #covsfics #do i wanna know

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hotwings0203 · 1 year ago

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Needed to get possessive alpha bakugo off my chest, ill prolly write a sequel to this tmrw cuz i got some ideas

Tw: noncon, omegaverse

thinking about childhood possessive bakugo who's pined for his omega since she joined the pack Time after time again since you were kids he'd always tried to get close to you, using a number of strange to threatening courting techniques. It was benign at first when you both were young, with him jumping up the large apple tree to get you the juiciest fruit you could never seem to reach, but when you two grew older and played together with the rest of the pack, his efforts seemed more...possessive.

He'd always single you out and force you to be on his team, following up with growling at you whenever you'd run more than a few paces in front of away from him. His sleek gold and black coat would brush up against you constantly, as if only touching you would satiate his desire for your proximity. Bloodred eyes would glare at you when you'd shyly back away at dinnertime, opting to sit away from his intense gaze.

Not like he'd let you get that far.

When it would come time for bathing with your sisters, somehow, everytime you'd be out of the loop and would end up being forced to wash yourself on your own in the cold water.

Little did you know your sisters were not-so-kindly encouraged to not communicate their congregation to you by a certain fiery alpha.

And so when everyone was by the fire, barking out laughter and telling stories of their weekly hunt, you'd sulk to the riverside by yourself, clutching your towel over your shivering body as youd sink closer in the shallow water.

You wanted to get it done as fast as possible so you could join your pack in merry-making, haphazardly scraping dirt off your paws and washing the crevices between your ears.

But as soon as you take a step towards the lush bank, you hear a heavy splash behind you.

You whip around, ears drawn back immeditaley after seeing the alpha who shamelessly follows you around like he's already claimed you.

"W-whatre you doing here? Everyone's by the..fire..." you trail off unsurely as his spiked-up wet mane shakes in laughter. His lack of concern for the reprimands he'll undoubtedly recieve for being this physically close to you send faint warning alarms at the back of your head. Usually he glowers at you and turns tail, but this is new.

"I thought the pack leaders told you to leave me alone," your lip wobbles as your tone borders on fear and indignation. Your brothers had always kept you safe from him, snarling and hiding you behind their tall legs whenever he was around. Bakugo never seemed to give up though, his own flashing teeth and sick grin mirroring their own worry pulled back from their lips.

"Yeah? But you're here though."

You swallow hard and hope he doesn't hear your whimper as you splash backwards towards the bank, but his low grumble of pleasure upon smelling your sweet fear-omones says otherwise. It proves to him that you're not as immune as your other brothers swear you are to protect yourself against him, theyre actually worried for a reason.

They know you'd never stand a chance against him.

And his muscles do ripple amid the water as he steadily stalks towards you, leering as he licks his canines and trains his eyes on your feeble form.

It seems like as fast as you flail backwards towards unseen safety, he advances twice as fast, and within seconds your back hits a hard and scratchy surface.

Bakugo chuckles a humorless laugh as you've nestled yourself in a nice, private corner away from the mainland where everyone can see you. You've backed both of you into an enormous concaved treetrunk, one that circles around 10ft and only one opening...

which you've trapped yourself in.

The roots of various plants that have grown inside this hollowed out trunk provide little cushion as you whimper and try to desperatley climb the walls.

"When are you gonna give up?"

His voice is low, raspy with mixed want and bitterness.

"S-stop, stay away from me or I'll call for h-"

"When are you gonna realize you can't escape me?" He harshly whispers right at your ear as he lunges toward you, causing you to squeal with terror.

He nips your soft ear and inhales your neck, craning his own to get a good look at the sensitive unclaimed part of your neck.

His hands grip your sides and mold the squishy parts as though they were dough, his greediness increasing exponentially as he lowers his drooling mouth to your ear and laves his wet tongue over the planes of your neck and shoulder.

You begin to shake and sob, never having been dealt with him actually touching you and being a victim to his lust. You've taken the protection of your brothers for granted, and oh how you wish you could softly howl out if you had the courage to ask for help.

But the blonde's presence itself is enough of a threat to your life and safety, that much being made clear as his hands grow claws, no doubt his physical appearance shifting from being so riled up. Your skin prick and cuts as his nails jab harder into you, his hands roaming up and down your back, feeling your hips and ghosting over the swell of your ass as well as chest.

You writhe against him which unbeknownst to you, pushes your naked chest out against his own shredded pecs, your pebbled nipples grazing his toned skin and practically making his eyes roll back in efforts not to pin you down and take you like his bitch.

"I just wanted to wash," your voice comes out pleading, and meek. You have no idea how he'll react to you being aggressive and defensive against his assault even if you had the courage to speak out against him.

"And I want to claim you as my omega," he growls directly in your ear, causing you to whine again and cower your head beneath his hounding mouth. "But I guess we'll both have to wait for what we want, huh?"

He knows you know.

You have to know.

Have to have known how badly he wants you, wants to hear your voice ring high with laughter like you do teasing your sisters, wants to hear your playful growls as you wrestle with your brothers who let you win just to see you swish your tail with prowess. He wants to feel you rest your head on his chest, wants to see you look up at him with security and ease, knowing that he's there to protect and love you.

But how can he explain that, with years of nothing but threatening looks and yards of distance between you two?

If it brings you familiarity and perhaps ease of seeing him as you've always thought to have known him, as a brute with nothing on his mind apart from taking you like an animal and conquering you, then he'll save the monologuing for later.

"After all," he heaves in the darkness of the seclusion, voicing his thoughts, "your birthday's coming up, right? You'll be of age to be claimed."

He thrusts his knee in between your trembling legs, pushing your shoulders down while following with his head and never letting his mouth rise above your unclaimed mark. You gasp as he begins grinding his knee in circles against your hooded clit, bouncing you lightly to evoke whatever sweet noises he can from your pursed lips.

You choke and sputter, suddenly grasping around his neck for leverage as you try to pull yourself up, but you're no match for him as it only serves to prove his point and enrage him from your constant rejection.

You can lie to him all you want, but your body never will.

"And trust me, little girl, when that cunt ripens for me to take, when that neck fucking sings for me to lay my mark-"

Your voice cracks into a howl as he takes one of his hands and squeezes the fat of your tit while the other spanks your jiggling ass on his knee, feeling whiplash from the onslaught of sensations.

"-I can promise you, there's no running. There's no cowering behind your brother's legs like some fucking baby, there's no using your sisters as an excuse to turn your face away from me."

Bakugo presses you tight against the wall, smothering you chest-to-chest with him and using the confined space to rut his naked erection against your thigh, his hips snapping forward and chasing years of needed release in your presence.

"I'll tie you down on my bed, face down ass-up and breed you as my bitch. I'll take you bent over and wrapped around me against every surface and floor of our secluded cave."

You blubber as you can feel yourself coming to a high, the water splashing obnoxiously at your humping against each other. In an effort to keep your pride, you try as hard as you can to grit your teeth and delay your orgasm, but he seems to catch on pretty quick.

"And then," he drops your tit and uses both hands to pry your asscheeks apart, impaling you impossibly closer down on the hard bone of his knee, your clit grating deliciously as his leg vibrates and flexes from moving you back and forth, up and down, any direction he can get your teeth to latch onto your lip and pussy clench on nothing.

"Then, you won't have to hide that pretty voice anymore. I'll get those years of silence back in exchange for your screams for help."

At this, he hugs you flush against the wall and himself as you shake from your orgasm, the water rippling at your reaction.

"So if I were you, I'd be grateful for any solitude from now on. Because you won't be getting it anymore."

#mha #bnha #tw: noncon #bnha yandere #mha yandere #yandere bakugo #yandere #bakugo #mha bakugo #bnha bakugo #yandere katsuki #yandere katsuki bakugo #tw omegaverse #omegaverse #alpha bakugou #alpha katsuki

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lila-lou · 3 months ago

Text

✨His second exception - Pt. 33/33✨

Summary: The moment Ben found out you were pregnant was probably the happiest moment of his life. However, happiness proved fleeting. Now, he is faced with the aftermath of his shattered dreams. Of what is left of you, and what is left of him.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, Language, FLUFF, LAST CHAPTER GUYS-Pls read the A/N at the End <3

Word Count: 6347

A/N: This is the sequel to “His only exeption” - and Part 33 of "His second exception".

English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙

With that, the door finally shut behind them, leaving the house in peaceful silence. Just you, Ben, and Aria.

Ben exhaled deeply, shifting on the couch as he got comfortable. His boots were already kicked off, his supe jacket unzipped, but he made no move to get up—just leaned back, stretching out and cradling Aria against his chest. His massive hand ran over her tiny back, his fingers tracing slow, absentminded circles.

“You’re still all scrunched up, huh, chicken?”, he murmured, smirking down at her tiny legs, which, as always, remained curled up against his chest. He nudged them lightly with a finger, only for Aria to wriggle and pull them back in, making a soft little grunt in protest.

Ben huffed a short laugh. “Stubborn. Just like your mom”.

You chuckled from where you stood, watching him settle in. “She’s comfortable like that. You’re not gonna win this fight, you know”.

Ben glanced up at you with that lazy, lopsided smirk you knew all too well. “Yeah, well, I wasn’t planning on losing, either”.

You rolled your eyes, walking over to stand beside the couch. “You know what else you’re not planning on doing?”. You leaned down slightly, wrinkling your nose. “Skipping a shower after being gone for a hole week”.

Ben arched an eyebrow, still rocking Aria lightly in his arms. “What, you don’t like the smell of blood, gunpowder, and pure testosterone?”.

You snorted. “Not on my baby”.

Ben let out a low, amused hum, shifting Aria slightly to free one of his hands. He reached up, grabbing your wrist, and tugged you just a little closer. “Yeah?”, he murmured, his smirk deepening. “But you don’t mind it on you, do you?”.

His voice had dropped into that lower, teasing register, the one that always made your stomach twist in that annoying, predictable way. His fingers ran up the inside of your wrist, his touch feather-light but enough to send a shiver down your spine.

You narrowed your eyes at him, pretending to be unimpressed, even as heat crept up your neck. “Ben, you literally just got home”.

He leaned back further into the couch, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “And I seem to remember a certain someone saying they missed me”, he drawled. “You sure you want me to take that shower alone?”.

You scoffed, shoving at his shoulder—not that it moved him in the slightest. “You’re impossible”.

Ben smirked, shifting Aria slightly as he looked up at you with that infuriating, cocky glint in his green eyes. “Still”, he murmured, voice low and smooth, “I won’t shower alone”.

You narrowed your eyes at him, though the corner of your lips twitched. “Ben”.

“What?”. He tilted his head, feigning innocence. “I’ve been gone for a week. You really gonna make me suffer through some boring-ass, lonely shower?”.

You huffed, reaching down to take Aria from his arms, careful not to disturb her as she dozed against his chest. “I would”, you said, carefully cradling her to you, “but I don’t trust you not to fall asleep standing up in there”.

Ben let out a low chuckle, rubbing a hand over his face. Now that he’d finally let himself relax, the exhaustion was catching up with him, weighing down his movements just slightly. But even still, that damn smirk stayed in place. “You saying I’d pass out in the shower? Nah. You’d just have to keep me awake”.

You shot him a glare, rocking Aria gently in your arms. “Ben, I swear—”.

He pushed himself up from the couch with a deep grunt, rolling out his stiff shoulders. Then, before you could react, he leaned down and kissed you, slow and unhurried. His lips lingered against yours, the heat of him wrapping around you, and for a second, the world shrank down to just the two of you.

Your lips barely parted from his as you mumbled, “What about Aria?”. The warmth of his breath brushed against your skin as Ben smirked, his hands bracketing your waist, his touch firm but not overbearing.

“She’s out”, he murmured, glancing down at the tiny bundle resting against your chest. Aria was still fast asleep, her soft little breaths even and steady. “And I don’t hear her complaining”.

You sighed, already feeling your resolve slipping, especially when his rough fingers skimmed along the small of your back, trailing heat in their wake. “Ben”, you whispered, though you weren’t sure if it was meant to scold or encourage.

You sighed, pressing your forehead against his chest for a brief moment, trying to keep a straight face. But, of course, Ben wasn’t about to let this go. His large hands slid lower, pressing against your hips, his touch both teasing and possessive.

“We just put her in the crib and take the baby monitor with us”, he muttered, his voice low, rough with impatience. Then, with a smirk, he tapped the side of his ear. “Not that I need one”.

You narrowed your eyes at him, even as warmth spread through your body. “Ben—”.

“C’mon, babe”, he whined in that deep, gravelly voice, pressing a lingering kiss to the side of your neck, just below your ear. His breath was hot against your skin, his lips trailing lower, slow and deliberate. “My balls are about to fucking explode”.

You let out a small, breathy laugh, shaking your head. “You’re impossible”.

Ben pulled back slightly, looking down at you with those sharp green eyes, dark with something dangerous, something insatiable. “And yet, you love me", he murmured, smirking. “So, what’s it gonna be, sweetheart? You gonna make me suffer after I’ve been gone a whole damn week?".

You bit your lip, trying to stay firm, but the weight of his body against yours, the way his fingers flexed slightly against your waist, made it impossible to think straight.

“…Five minutes”, you whispered, finally giving in.

Ben’s grin was pure satisfaction. “Sweetheart, that’s all I need”.

In your bedroom, he wasted no time, stepping back from you just enough to let you gently place Aria in her crib. You moved carefully, ensuring she was snug and peaceful before reaching for the baby monitor on the dresser. Just as you grabbed it, you felt Ben behind you—his chest pressing against your back, his large hands settling on your hips.

"See?", he murmured, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. "Problem solved".

You exhaled sharply, clutching the monitor as his fingers trailed down your sides. "Ben", you whispered, a weak attempt at resistance.

He smirked, nuzzling into your neck, letting his stubble graze your skin. "I missed you, sweetheart", he rasped, his voice rough and low. "Need you".

You swallowed, heart pounding, as he guided you toward the en-suite bathroom. The moment the door clicked shut behind you, he was on you—his hands, his mouth, his heat. His lips crashed against yours, deep and claiming, his fingers gripping your waist as he pressed you against the counter.

"You’re lucky I actually need a shower", he muttered between kisses, reaching past you to turn on the water. "Or I’d say screw it and take you right fucking here".

You shivered as he tugged at the hem of your shirt, peeling it off with an urgency that made your skin burn. "Ben", you breathed against his lips, tangling your fingers in his hair.

He groaned, his grip tightening on your hips. "Say my name like that again, and this five-minute deal is off the table".

You laughed softly, tilting your head up to kiss him again, letting yourself melt against him. "Then I guess we’d better hurry, huh?".

Ben smirked. "Sweetheart, I don’t hurry—I make it count".

Inside the shower, the moment the warm water cascaded down Ben’s broad shoulders, he wasted no time. His strong hands gripped your thighs, lifting you effortlessly as if you weighed nothing, maneuvering you until your legs were draped over his strong shoulders. Your back pressed against the cool tiled wall, the sudden shift in position making your breath hitch.

“Oh, shit”, you whispered, your hands instinctively flying into his damp hair, gripping the thick strands.

Ben smirked against your skin, his grip tightening under your thighs to keep you steady. “What?”, he drawled, his voice dark with amusement. “Never had me down here before?”.

You swallowed hard, your pulse thrumming wildly in your veins. “Just… Where the hell is this coming from?”.

Ben chuckled, low and deep, his breath warm against your core. “Week away had me thinking”, he murmured, pressing a slow, open-mouthed kiss to the inside of your thigh. “Had me starving”.

Your breath stuttered as you tried to adjust, your hands still buried in his wet hair. The height, the sheer power in how easily he held you up—it sent a mix of excitement and nerves racing through you. “Ben, this is… really high”, you murmured, your thighs twitching slightly.

Ben let out a low chuckle against your skin, his breath hot as he teased, “That’s ‘cause you’re so damn small”. His grip on your thighs tightened slightly, his fingers digging into your flesh just enough to remind you how easily he was holding you up. “Or maybe I’m just too big for you”.

Your breath hitched, your fingers threading tighter through his hair as his lips inched closer to where you needed him the most. The teasing smirk on his face never faded, but there was something else in his expression now—pure, hungry intent.

“Ben—”. You barely got his name out before his lips finally met you, slow and deliberate, taking his time like he had all the patience in the world. The heat of his mouth sent a shiver through your entire body, your back arching against the cool tiles.

Ben groaned against you, the deep vibration shooting straight through you as he worked you open, his grip keeping you steady even as your legs twitched around his broad shoulders. “Fuck, you’re already shaking”, he murmured, pulling back just enough to look up at you, his green eyes dark and gleaming. “You sure you can handle this, sweetheart?”.

You barely had the breath to glare at him, your fingers tugging at his hair. “I swear to—ahh—”.

Your words cut off into a gasp as he dragged his tongue against you again, slower this time, drawing it out just to hear you whimper. The way he was holding you, the way he kept you pinned like you were weightless—it was overwhelming, intoxicating.

Ben chuckled against you again, clearly enjoying how easily he was unraveling you. “Gonna have to hold on tight, baby”, he warned, his smirk audible. “I’m just getting started”.

Ben took his damn time, dragging his tongue in slow, lazy strokes that had your entire body shuddering. He wasn’t rushing—not even close. If anything, he was deliberately teasing you, keeping the pressure featherlight, just enough to make you squirm but not enough to satisfy.

Your fingers tightened in his damp hair, tugging, but he didn’t budge. If anything, it just made him smirk against you. “Impatient?”, he murmured, the vibration of his voice sending a shock through your already-overstimulated body. “You’re the one who let me starve for seven weeks”.

You whined, your head tilting back against the cool tile as your thighs twitched against his shoulders. “Ben”, you gasped, your voice barely above a whisper. “Please”.

His grip on your thighs tightened just slightly, his breath warm against you. “Please, huh?”, he drawled, his tone dripping with amusement.

You bit your lip, resisting the urge to snap back. He knew exactly what he was doing—pushing you to that perfect edge, taking his time just to watch you unravel.

Then, finally, finally, he gave you what you wanted. His tongue flicked against you with just the right pressure, his movements slow but deliberate, tasting you like he was savoring every second.

Your entire body jerked at the sensation, your fingers digging into his scalp as a desperate moan slipped past your lips. Ben groaned against you, his grip tightening, his mouth working you open as he set a pace that was agonizingly slow, but devastatingly good.

“Fuck”, you gasped, your breath coming in short, uneven bursts. “Ben—”.

He didn’t stop. If anything, your reaction only encouraged him. His tongue moved with precision, slow enough to make you whimper, but deep enough to have your legs trembling around him.

“Better hold on, sweetheart”, he murmured between strokes, his voice low and gravelly. “I’m not letting you down until you break”.

Your release crashed over you hard and fast, your body tightening, shuddering against Ben’s relentless mouth. Your fingers clenched in his damp hair, your thighs trembling around his shoulders as pleasure pulsed through you in waves.

Ben groaned against your heat, savoring the way you came apart for him, his grip firm as he held you through every second of it. Slowly, he eased his pace, letting his tongue drag over you one last time before he pressed a final, lingering kiss to your inner thigh.

Then, with effortless strength, he shifted you, lowering you down onto his hips. Your arms instinctively wrapped around his broad shoulders for balance, your breath still ragged as your chest pressed flush against his. The heat of his body surrounded you, his erection thick and heavy against your stomach, a solid reminder of just how much he’d been holding back.

Ben exhaled sharply, his large hands smoothing over your waist, his grip steady but hesitant. His green eyes locked onto yours, his usual arrogance tempered by something more careful—something rare.

Ben let out a rough breath, his green eyes dark with something deeper than just desire. His hands settled firmly on your hips, his thumbs brushing the sensitive skin just above your thighs as he pulled you even closer, your bodies pressed flush against each other.

His smirk returned, lazy and cocky, though there was an edge to it—something more controlled than usual. “Seven weeks, huh?”, he murmured, tilting his head slightly as he let his lips brush against the shell of your ear. “Think you’re ready to take me again, sweetheart?”.

You shuddered at the way his voice dipped, at the way his grip tightened just enough to make your pulse spike. “Ben…”, you started, breathless, but he cut you off with a low chuckle, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin of your neck.

“Gotta make sure”, he muttered, voice thick with restraint, but his fingers were already moving, trailing down between your legs, teasing at your slick heat. His touch was slow, deliberate. Testing.

He groaned as he felt how ready you were, how your body was already responding to him, clenching with anticipation. “Fuck".

Ben let out a deep, shuddering groan as he slowly lined himself up, the thick head of his cock pressing against your entrance. His grip on your hips tightened, his control hanging by a thread as he felt how warm, how impossibly tight you were around him. “Shit”, he rasped, his forehead nearly pressing against yours. “You’re even tighter than before, sweetheart…”.

But just as he was about to push in, you suddenly tensed beneath him. “Ben”, you whispered, looking up at him, your expression shifting from pleasure to something more hesitant.

He blinked, his brows knitting together in brief confusion. “What?”. His voice was gruff, breathless, thick with need.

You bit your lip, a tiny, cheeky grin forming despite the flush on your cheeks. “You need to wrap up”.

Ben immediately froze, his entire body going rigid. His green eyes flicked up to yours, his expression caught somewhere between disbelief and pure, unfiltered irritation. “You’re joking”.

You shook your head slowly, biting back a laugh at the sheer look of offense that crossed his face. “Nope”.

Ben groaned dramatically, throwing his head back against. “You gotta be fucking kidding me”, he muttered. “You want me to—after seven weeks—you want me to—fuck”.

You giggled, reaching up to stroke his damp hair. “I know you hate them, but come on, Ben. Unless you want another little chicken running around in nine months…”.

Ben’s face twisted into something that looked both horrified and turned on at the same time. He inhaled sharply through his nose, his fingers digging into your hips. “You’re evil”, he muttered. “You know that? Fucking Evil”.

You only grinned wider, leaning up to kiss his jaw. “So? What’s it gonna be, big guy?”.

Ben let out a long, suffering exhale, his fingers flexing against your hips like he was physically restraining himself from throwing a full-blown tantrum. Then, with a gruff mutter of "Fucking hell", he set you down on shaky legs, his grip lingering just long enough to make sure you were steady before he took a step back.

“Go get one”, he grumbled, clearly annoyed but resigned, his large hands running down his face before he tilted his head back under the hot water. His fingers curled into fists like he was trying to keep himself in check, his cock still standing thick and heavy against his abs.

Before you turned, he reached out and gave your ass a quick, sharp pinch.

You yelped, giggling as you swatted at his arm. “Behave”, you teased, stepping carefully out of the shower.

Ben huffed, crossing his arms over his broad chest as he watched you tiptoe naked and dripping wet toward the bedroom. “Yeah, yeah”, he muttered, eyes locked onto you like a predator tracking its prey. “But hurry the fuck up, or I’m saying screw it”.

You smirked, shivering slightly as the cooler air hit your damp skin. Moving quickly, you padded over to the nightstand, snatching a foil-wrapped condom from the drawer. As soon as you had it in your grasp, you turned on your heel and walked back toward the bathroom, holding it up between two fingers.

Ben arched an unimpressed brow as you stepped back inside, steam curling around your body. “You look way too fucking smug right now”.

You grinned. “Oh, I am”.

Ben rolled his eyes, muttering something about how he should be the one getting rewarded for his patience. But the second you climbed back into the shower, his hands were on you again, pulling you flush against his chest.

"Hand it over", he grumbled, his voice a low, commanding rasp as he reached for the condom. But before he took it, his lips found your neck, his teeth grazing your skin in punishment for making him wait.

"You’ll see how much better it feels without one”, Ben grumbled against your neck, his breath hot and heavy, the frustration thick in his voice. “So get rid of your fucking grin”.

Before you could respond, he nipped at your skin once more, his teeth grazing just enough to send a shiver down your spine. The sharp contrast of the cool air and the heat of his body pressed against yours had you gasping softly.

Then, with an almost annoyed huff, he turned away from the water, shielding his dick from the hot spray as he tore open the foil wrapper with his teeth. His fingers worked quickly, rolling the condom down his thick length with an almost begrudging efficiency.

You watched, still breathless, pressing your back against the shower wall, your body already buzzing from anticipation. His jaw was tight, brows furrowed, as he finished, his large hand stroking himself once before his eyes snapped back up to yours.

Ben let out a deep, frustrated grunt, his fingers adjusting the condom . “Squeezing the shit out of me”, he muttered under his breath.

You bit your lip, trying—and failing—not to laugh at the obvious discomfort on his face. “Maybe you just forgot how to wear one”, you teased, your voice dripping with amusement.

Ben’s green eyes snapped to yours, sharp and unimpressed. “Or maybe”, he shot back, rolling his hips just enough to press the thick length of him against your slick heat, “you bought the wrong damn size”.

Your smirk only widened, knowing exactly how much that would get to him. “I dunno”, you hummed, tilting your head. “Looks like it fits just fine to me”.

Ben let out a dry chuckle, his large hands gripping your thighs tighter as he lifted you higher against the shower wall. “Yeah?”, he muttered, his voice low and edged with warning. “Feel free to keep talking, sweetheart. See where it gets you”.

You opened your mouth, fully prepared to push him further, but before you could get a word out, he shifted his hips, pressing the thick head of his cock against you, stretching you ever so slightly without fully sinking in.

Your breath hitched, your fingers tightening against his shoulders. Ben smirked, seeing the change in your expression. “That’s what I thought”, he murmured, pressing a slow, taunting kiss to your throat. “Now, let’s see if this thing holds up, huh?”.

Ben groaned deeply as he eased into you, his thick cock stretching you inch by inch, his grip firm on your thighs as he held you steady against the cool tile of the shower wall. His breath came out in a sharp exhale, his jaw tightening at the overwhelming heat of you around him.

“Fuck”, he muttered, his voice gravelly, lips ghosting over the sensitive skin of your neck. “So fucking tight. Seven weeks and it’s like you missed me, sweetheart”.

You let out a shaky breath, your fingers digging into his broad shoulders. “Maybe… maybe I did”, you whispered, barely able to get the words out between gasps as he pushed in deeper, inch by agonizing inch.

Ben chuckled darkly, his smirk pressed against your jaw. “That so?”, he taunted, rolling his hips just enough to make you whimper. “Didn’t seem like it when you were making me suit up like a damn rookie”.

You let out a breathless laugh, but it quickly turned into a moan as he finally bottomed out, filling you completely. Your walls fluttered around him, adjusting to the stretch, and he let out another low groan, his forehead pressing against yours.

“Shit", he muttered, his grip on your hips tightening possessively. “Gonna have to work this condom off you if you keep squeezing me like that”.

You gasped, half-laughing, half-moan. “Ben—”.

He smirked, rolling his hips in a slow, deep thrust that had your head falling back against the tile. “That’s right, sweetheart”, he murmured, nipping at your throat. “Say my name real nice. Let me hear how much you missed me”.

You barely managed a response, your breath hitching as he rolled his hips just right, hitting that spot that sent sparks of pleasure racing up your spine. Your fingers dug into his damp shoulders, clinging to him as he kept a steady, punishing rhythm, dragging himself almost all the way out before pushing back in, making you feel every stretch, every inch of him.

“Come on”, he gritted out, his grip firm on your waist, his voice dark and teasing. “Seven weeks, and this is all I get? No begging? No telling me how fucking good I feel?”.

You let out a breathless moan, tilting your head back against the cool tile, trying to gather enough words to fire back at him. “Cocky asshole”, you managed, but the insult barely carried any weight with how wrecked you already sounded.

Ben chuckled low in his throat, clearly pleased with himself. “Damn right I am”, he muttered, sucking at the sensitive spot just below your ear. “’Cause I know no one else could fuck you like this. No one else could make you fall apart just by stretching you open”.

His words sent a deep, aching heat straight through you, making you clench around him involuntarily. Ben groaned, his fingers digging into your thighs. “Shit—just like that, sweetheart”, he breathed, his control slipping just a little. “Keep doing that, and this damn condom’s not gonna be the only thing I ruin”.

You whimpered, tightening your legs around his waist, forcing him deeper. “Ben—”.

“Say it again”, he muttered, his pace picking up, harder now, rougher.

Ben growled low in his throat, his grip tightening as he slammed his hips forward, driving himself deeper into you. “Say it again”, he demanded, his voice rough, almost desperate.

You gasped, your nails dragging across his broad shoulders as pleasure built higher, hotter. “Ben”, you whimpered, clenching around him again, making him hiss through his teeth.

“Fuck, sweetheart”, he groaned, pressing you harder against the cool tile, his hands gripping your hips so tight you knew you’d have bruises tomorrow. His rhythm was relentless now, each thrust sending shockwaves through you. “You feel that? How perfect you fit around me?”.

You could barely think, let alone respond, but he didn’t need you to. He already knew. He could feel it in the way your body responded to him, in the way you were already so close, your breath coming in ragged gasps.

Ben leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he muttered, “Look at you—already so fucked out, and I’m not even done with you”.

A sharp moan tore from your lips as he angled his hips just right, dragging another wave of pleasure from you. Your legs tightened around him, locking him in place, needing more, needing everything.

His smirk returned, though it was strained, his own restraint slipping. “That’s it”, he groaned, his pace growing erratic. “Come for me, sweetheart. Let me feel you”.

You didn’t stand a chance. The pleasure crashed over you in waves, your body trembling against his, his name falling from your lips. Your nails raked down his back, your walls fluttering around him as your climax hit so hard you momentarily forgot how to breathe.

Ben let out a deep, guttural moan, burying his face in your neck as he followed, his entire body tensing as he spilled into the condom with a final, shuddering thrust. His breaths were ragged, his chest rising and falling against yours as he came down, still holding you against the wall as if he never wanted to let you go.

For a long moment, the only sound in the shower was your heavy breathing and the water cascading around you.

Then, Ben let out a slow, satisfied chuckle, pressing a lazy kiss against your collarbone. “Yeah”, he murmured, his voice thick with exhaustion and smug satisfaction. “That was worth the wait”.

You huffed out a breathless laugh, your fingers still tangled in his damp hair.

Ben slowly eased you down, but the second your feet touched the tile, your legs wobbled. He let out a low chuckle, gripping your waist to steady you. “Shit, sweetheart”, he muttered, smirking as he kept you against him. “Did I fuck the strength outta you?”.

You shot him a tired but amused glare, your fingers tightening slightly against his forearm for balance. “Shut up”.

But before he could throw another cocky remark your way, his head tilted slightly, his sharp green eyes flicking toward the door. His smirk faded into something softer, something focused.

“She’s waking up”, he muttered, voice quieter now.

You blinked, still catching your breath. “What?”.

Ben tipped his chin toward the bedroom. “Aria. She’s squirming. Smacking her lips like a fucking fish”.

You let out a small laugh, shaking your head. “Of course you can hear that”.

Ben’s smirk returned, though this time it wasn’t teasing—it was fond, almost proud. “I hear everything when it comes to her”. Then, with a final squeeze to your waist, he grabbed a towel from the rack, wrapping it around your body before reaching for another to dry himself. “C’mon, sweetheart”, he murmured, voice low and warm. “Our little chicken’s hungry”.

You barely managed to wrap the towel around yourself before you had to steady yourself against the doorframe, your legs still wobbly from what had just happened in the shower. You shot a glare toward the bedroom, half-amused, half-exasperated. Ben had done this on purpose. No way was that just him getting carried away—he wanted you to feel like you couldn’t walk straight after.

Smug bastard.

Still, as you pulled the towel tighter around you and carefully padded into the bedroom, you found Ben already ahead of you—still completely naked—lifting Aria from her crib before she could even let out a full wail. His broad arms cradled her tiny body effortlessly, and as soon as she was settled against his chest, her little mouth made a soft, suckling motion against his skin, searching.

“Hungry little thing, aren’t you?”. His voice was gruff but warm, and he ran a large hand over her tiny back in slow, soothing circles.

Ben smirked down at Aria, watching as her little mouth suckled instinctively against his bare chest. He let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “Sorry, chicken”, he muttered, adjusting his hold on her. “Ain’t gonna find any food in these”. He gave his chest a playful slap with his free hand. “Flat as a damn board”.

You snorted as you settled back onto the bed, adjusting the pillows behind you. “Well, if she keeps trying, maybe you’ll magically start producing milk”.

Ben shot you a flat look, but there was amusement lurking behind it. “Yeah? That how it works, doc?”. He turned back to Aria, rocking her slightly. “Sorry, sweetheart. Your old man’s not built for the job”.

Aria let out a frustrated little squeak, her tiny fingers curling against his skin as she wriggled, still searching. Ben exhaled through his nose, glancing back at you. “Alright, alright”, he grumbled. “You win”.

He moved toward the bed, sitting down beside you before gently passing Aria into your arms. You let your towel slip just enough to guide her toward you, and the second she latched, her fussing stopped instantly.

Ben huffed, leaning back against the headboard, still very much naked. His green eyes dropped to where Aria was nursing, and after a long moment, he let out a deep, irritated groan.

“This is bullshit”, he muttered.

You arched an eyebrow, biting back a smile. “What now?".

Ben gestured vaguely toward your chest, his gaze flicking between you and Aria. “She gets to suck on your tits all night, and I’m still sittin’ here rock hard”.

You glanced down, and sure enough, Ben was very much rock hard again, his cock resting against his thigh, thick and heavy. You bit your lip, trying to suppress a smirk as you looked back up at him. “You weren’t kidding”, you murmured, amusement lacing your tone.

Ben huffed dramatically, throwing his head back against the headboard. “Yeah, no shit”, he grumbled. His hand dropped to his stomach, fingers twitching slightly like he was resisting the urge to do something about it. “You think I was just talking to hear myself?”.

You chuckled softly, shifting Aria slightly as she continued to nurse, her tiny hands resting against your chest. “Well”, you teased, voice light, “looks like you’ve got a real problem”.

Ben turned his head toward you, his green eyes dark with something equal parts frustration and amusement. “You think this is funny?”, he muttered, his voice lower now, rougher. His free hand trailed along the edge of your towel, teasing at the skin of your hip. “You sitting there all bare, feeding my kid, while I’m sitting here—like this?”. His eyes flicked downward pointedly, his grip tightening ever so slightly on your hip.

You chuckled, shaking your head as you adjusted Aria slightly in your arms. “How is that even possible?”, you teased, casting a glance at Ben’s still-throbbing erection. “You just—literally minutes ago—shot your shot”.

Ben let out a gruff scoff, rubbing a hand down his face before grumbling, “It’s like you just met me”. His green eyes flicked back to you, smirking despite his obvious frustration. “You really think once is enough after a seven weeks break? Sweetheart, I don’t even know what ‘satisfied’ means when it comes to you”.

Sure enough, the second Aria had finished nursing and drifted back to sleep, Ben wasted no time. He carefully laid her in the crib and wheeled her in the bathroom, his movements surprisingly delicate for someone so naturally rough. The moment he turned back to you, however, his restraint snapped like a thread pulled too tight.

“Finally”, he muttered under his breath, his hands already tugging at the towel loosely wrapped around you.

You barely had time to react before he had you pinned beneath him, his massive frame pressing you into the mattress, his mouth claiming yours with a hunger that sent heat straight through you. It wasn’t slow, wasn’t careful—Ben had been holding back for too damn long, and now, he was making up for lost time.

And he didn’t stop at once.

Even after the first time, when your body was still shuddering from the aftershocks, Ben wasn’t finished. He barely gave you time to catch your breath before he had you again—his grip firm, his pace relentless, his voice a low growl against your ear, telling you exactly how much he missed this, missed you.

The second round bled into a third, and somewhere in between, you were barely coherent, your mind foggy from pleasure and exhaustion. You weren’t sure when you finally passed out, only that the last thing you felt was Ben’s strong arms wrapping around you, pulling you against his chest as he let out a deep, satisfied sigh.

You woke up hours later, still tangled in him, his arm slung possessively around your waist, his breathing deep and steady. Even in sleep, his grip on you never loosened—as if even now, he wasn’t letting go.

Ben never thought he’d get here.

Not in a million years. Not after everything.

His whole life, he’d been told what he was—what he was made for. A soldier. A weapon. Indestructible, untouchable. Love? That was for men with the luxury of normal lives. Family? That was for people who weren’t designed in a lab, for people who weren’t engineered to be a symbol instead of a person.

He was meant to fight, not to feel.

But then, there was you.

His only exception.

The one person who had seen him—really seen him. Past the legend, past the propaganda, past the violence that had built him up and broken him down a thousand times over. You hadn’t flinched, hadn’t turned away, hadn’t seen a monster when you looked at him.

You had seen Ben.

And somehow, impossibly, you had made him believe that he could be more than just the wreckage of the past.

And then, against all odds, against all reason—there was her.

Aria.

A baby he never thought he could have. A baby no one thought he should have. Proof that whatever the hell was in his DNA, whatever was in yours—it worked. Something that shouldn’t have been possible, and yet, there she was. A miracle born from all the things he thought he could never have.

But none of it had come easy.

Nothing in his life ever did.

You had nearly died bringing Aria into this world. And for the first time in his life—his long, brutal, war-torn life—Ben had felt helpless. Not the kind of fear that pumped adrenaline through his veins, not the kind that made him throw the first punch just to make sure he got the last. No, this was the kind of fear that had nearly broken him in half.

The kind that came from standing there, useless, watching you slip away, watching doctors scramble. And for all his strength, for all his power, for all the fights he had survived, he couldn’t fight for you.

But you made it. Aria made it.

And now, years later, as he stood on the porch of your home—Aria’s tiny hand gripping his index finger, her soft chestnut curls bouncing as she tried to match his long strides—he knew what peace felt like.

Not the silence after a battle. Not the weightless nothingness of another mission completed. This.

The sound of Aria’s laughter, the warmth of your gaze as you watched them, the way his world had finally stopped spinning just long enough for him to hold it in his hands.

You stood a few feet away, arms crossed over your chest, a knowing grin playing at your lips. “She’s got you wrapped around her little finger”, you teased.

Ben scoffed, but his hand instinctively tightened around Aria’s. “Nah”, he muttered, glancing down at her. “She’s just lucky I like her”.

Aria giggled, her green eyes—so much like his—glowing with mischief. She had your heart, your warmth, but that sharp, unrelenting attitude? That was all him.

“You ready, chicken?”, Ben asked, smirking down at her.

“For what?”, she chirped.

Ben scooped her up effortlessly, holding her up high, ready to swing her around the way she loved it as he turned to you.

But then, his sharp green eyes flicked to your stomach before settling on your face, and just for a second—his smirk faltered.

There it was again.

That feeling. That realization. That fucking exception.

Because there was going to be another one.

And suddenly, his second exception?

Didn’t seem like his last.

-The End-

------------------------

A/N:

And just like that, another chapter of Ben’s story—the one he never thought he’d have—closes. But that doesn’t mean the story is over.

Not yet.

Because life isn’t wrapped up in neat, final endings. It’s made up of moments. Little glimpses of laughter at the dinner table, whispered conversations in the middle of the night, arguments over whose turn it is to change the diaper, and stolen kisses when no one is looking.

And there’s still more to tell.

They’re still not married—because of course, Ben being Ben, he drags his feet on that, even though it’s inevitable. There’s another baby on the way, another exception he never saw coming. Aria is getting older, showing more of that sharp wit and stubborn attitude that is so clearly inherited from both of them. And Ben? He’s still figuring out how to be the kind of man who deserves all this.

So consider this story open-ended.

I’ll be adding occasional updates, little moments from their lives—some sweet, some messy, some absolutely chaotic, because let’s be honest, a life with Ben will never be boring.

After all, for a man who never thought he’d have exceptions, he sure keeps making them.

So one last time for now... Please let me know what you think. 🥰

Taglist: @deangirl96, @thatgirljayy, @suckitands33, @deans-spinster-witch@mimaria420@kaz11283@uncle-eggy@jackles010378@vxnilla-hxrddrugs @meowmeowyoongles@sarahgracej @zemosdarling228 @leila22rogers @mostlymarvelgirl@emily-winchester @blacknoirr @onlyangel-444@seasonofthenerd@staple-your-mouth@artemys-ackles@selfdestructionandrhum@mystic-mara @kat-nee @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @star-yawnznn @me1501 @CheyNovaK @faephoria @hobby27 @baby19sthings @fitxgrld @winchesterwild78 @uddiifiigj @libby99hb @urgogodancer @urinternetmom @mochminnie @laaadygisbooornex3 @fallout-girl219 @whump-loverz @fallout-girl219

#jensen ackles #soldier boy #the boys #soldier boy x y/n #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x female reader #jensen ackles x reader #ben x reader #ben #ben x you #soldier boy x you #the boys soldier boy #soldier boy fanfiction #his second exception

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edenspoem · 1 year ago

Note

YES PLEASE. BLOCKBUSTER ELLIE?? 90’s?? SIGN ME UP. WHERE DO I PUT MY NAME??😖😖🙏

- 🩵

a/n + cw; OMGG AN EMOJI ANON i haven't seen you guys in a hot minute, but YESSS BLOCKBUSTER ELLIE!! specifically x customer reader. it's a cute duo! and let me relay why from my very scrambled 3 am jot-down. was going to make this a blurb, but it better translates through something more structured. ++ SFW! kinda mean!reader tbh (but ellie likes that), very fluffy you might squeet, quickly written, awkwardness, ellie being a nerd. [first pic from amoaeIIie on pinterest]

Imagine Ellie, in her blockbuster getup, leaning her butt into the edge of the register counter, jamming to whatever is playing on her hand-me-down walkman; earsbuds in, eyes downcast, head bopping slowing - soundly unaware of you awaiting service on your over-due rental. "Hello?" your volume divides the soft ambiance of the store, but it isn't enough to rope Ellie's mindspace from the clouds. Calling out again, "Hell-looh?" you extend beyond the cash register and wave your hand - nothing, nada.

How the hell has this girl not gotten her ass fired yet?

After numerous roadblocks, a brazen last resort comes into play. You cut around the counter briefly to take things into your own hands (literally) because you have not the time, nor the patience, for her slacking off.

Beryl eyes drop sharply to the walkman in her pants pocket when a single earbud is spooled from her ear, assuming it fell - but to her surprise, it hung low from your finger, and a glance above that finger was your face. Risen of one brow, flat-lined of your lips; impatient.

And her entire focus blanks out when you begin to speak, curtly and satirically, "Hey, I know busting out your Dad's old walkman in public makes you feel cool and whatnot, but you're on the clock." handing the slim cord back over to a stunned girl, flushed behind the pop of her freckles. Maybe your tone of voice sent her higher into the clouds, past a coven of angels, because her lips part narrowly and remain still for a single second - save two or three. Or maybe it's 'cause you specified it as her 'Dad's' which was.. spot on.

And whatever excuse she had quickly cherry-picked for you, hesitated audibly in her throat before it split from it, "O-Oh, right, shit sorry - was about to end my shift n' thought the store was empty. My bad." scrambling to stuff the other earplug in her pocket and avert all attention to you. Very eagerly.

"Looks like you've got a late fee on this one.." her pitch pummeled deeper, and coarser as she concentrates on the clunky screen she hunches slightly to use. Scrunching the freckles of her face together, hogging the blue-lit screen. Poor girl probably forgot her glasses at home. "Annnd are you looking to rent the sequel?" she peeks her auburn head from the screen and holds up the cased movie, tracing her index over the plastic cleft, tapping twice. "To this - it has a second part."

There's no denying it: she is cute - and guilt rolls your guts around for being so snippy and sullen to her earlier. But based on her demeanor growing enthused the second she saw what movie you had in hand - she doesn't seem to care a hoot.

"Out of stock," replied you, indifferent-sounding - and strking; crossed arms, bent knee, stiffly-standing. Comparable to a millpond. "Guess I won't be the only person with late fees." you take a breath to jest, shaking loose strands of hair from your eyes.

"Haha," you're no world-class comedian; that joke wasn't all that funny, but the need to hurl any affirming noise at you, was necessary. Relenting to reflex. What can she say? Love at first sight! "Yeah, that seems like the agenda these days," Ellie sighs out, molding the plump of her lip under her teeth and reshapes it into a dorky smirk. Isn't she just a sweet chocolate-box of adorability?

"Hmm, bummer."

That hum and word trips into her ears, knocking some brain-cog, and an idea limns her features; they glow wide. "Actually - um, I've got a copy of the sequel at my place. Technically it's my Dad's, but.." her pitch fluctuates, mindlessly thumbing the case between two fiddly hands. "Maybe you can - if you want, not pressuring you or anything - come over?" she throws a pointed thumb backwards, motioning a potential future. "Watch it? If you weren't planning on watching it with somebody else."

Slick trick to seeing if you're single; of course you'd watch movies with your boyfriend - or girlfriend.

"Hmmm.." you hummed longer this time, and this time it admitted the mushrooming of an almost aggravating anticipation in her belly. Like you meant to torture her with 'hmms' and nothing but 'hmms' as your answer hung high in cloudy abeyance, until, "What's the name on your tag - ah, Ellie."

"Yeah?"

"Ellie," you confirm her name twice, and speak it to enthrall her full-scale attention. Made it sound fucking sugary sweet, through a swirly whisper and a twist of your head. "If you can give me a discount, or a full wipe on that late fee, then yes. It's a date."

Light panic ensues. "Date?" she croaks and laughs it off, "I mean - pshh, guess that's one way to put it." backtracking to her hunched, elbows-on-the-counter pose.

"You put it that way."

"Yeah, I just.. didn't wanna admit that." immediately, she uncurls her spine again, relaxing her muscles to somewhat peer at you. "Sure. No more fees." Rounded eyes lost - adamant on indirectly staring at you and the space below you, because Goddess forbid a stroke of idiocy flickers through her while gawking at you.

The store runs dead-quiet in the background of your conversation, leading you to one golden question. "Your shift over after this?"

Oh damn, her cheeks are pink. "Uh-huh," bet she's oblivious to that red-hot beam nearly bursting the seams to her face, too. Nasal lines fold as a severe smile tugs, shadowed by her bent thumb poking at it. "Takin' my car?"

And that's how you pick up girls at a video store in the 90s - the Ellie Williams way.

this isn't even the full idea

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dgknightblue · 26 days ago

Text

Okay so out of morbid curiosity Danny decided to read some phantom fanfic (in universe there has got to be some you know it) and he’s talking about this 40 chapter angst fic and he approaches Paulina to compliment her as she’s the author and she’s horrified as he was one of the characters as a minor villain that dies spurring his parents to double their efforts to destroy Phantom and she’s just staring at him as he really liked the speech he made and the way his villain arc almost became a redemption arc before dying.

The last chapter ended on a cliffhanger and he couldn’t wait for the sequel fic she’s planning.

“Anyways, got to go. Bye Paulina!”, he leaves as she’s frozen in place.

Dash is next to her and is equally distraught as he’s wondering if he’s next and if he needs to delete his self insert one shot crack fic?

What’s worse is when he does it as Phantom and talks to Star and Valerie. Kwan nopes out of there and tells Paulina that Phantom knows and reads her fics!

“He was talking to Star and Valerie about it too!”

Oh gawd when the fan base found out and his first book as Phantom isn’t a fic but a book of information to make sure they get their characterization right. He also added a chapter or two for Danny Fenton, allies, and enemies. He makes a note that Box Ghost and Lunch Lady are dating and it drives them crazy wanting to know how he knows that but can’t ask him any questions because comments are disabled.

So they debate approaching Fenton about it but don’t want to at the same time. Then he doesn’t acknowledge anything he did.

He does not acknowledge the fanfictions or fanart or anything and now wondering if they all developed psychosis ?

Months later, the book is updated to include ghost wedding traditions and the note of Box ghost and lunch lady being spouses with a child.

Paulina might just scream and shake him if she doesn’t get answers.

More chapters and changes over time to the book are always met with a reaction, but Phantom and Fenton say nothing about it.

Tucker’s fics suddenly all have one comment from Phantom and it’s just “Lol furry boy has a girlfriend now”. The first time Phantom has every commented and it’s Tucker’s and it’s to tell everyone A) he thinks Tucker is a furry B) that TUCKER has a girlfriend C) that said girlfriend is REAL.

Fenton never comments unless it’s in person and he will walk up to you in front of anyone. It’s terrifying.

Someone was with their parents when he started walking towards them and they locked eyes. THEY FXCKING RAN!!! The fastest they ever did. HECK NO!!!!

Something like this. Phantom never comments on fanart and he only ever likes this one guys, named Spike, depiction of himself.

:3 Phantom gave Star an autograph on the back of a Nasty burger napkin with a little doodle.

She framed it on a wall.

Wesley isn’t spared, none shall talk about it or he’ll cry. Absolute bxstxrd behavior.

Danny is diabolical and off handedly mentions Phantom’s clone sister. They look and yeah the book was updated AFTER HE SAID THAT and they get three chapters about her and she is 12 in appearance.

Danny doesn’t know this until way later because he hadn’t actively updated it in a while, but both Jazz and Jacky (Dani) also added that he’s a prince.

Oh that reminds me. Phantom’s book outlines who should never be shipped with him and out of respect a lot of fics got deleted because he was clear with his boundaries. Of course every fandom has toxic members and they usually get ignored or blocked/ deleted.

Tucker took it seriously and made a program to delete the worse of it with an email detailing why things were deleted or blocked and links to therapists and help hotlines plus other resources because the problem might be due to trauma or ignorance. (Sam and Jazz helped with this part)

They don’t tell Danny about it.

#fanfiction #au #danny fenton #danny phantom #Paulina dp #tucker foley #sam manson #dp spike #wesley weston #dp Wesley #dani fenton #Dani is Jacky

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love-belle · 2 years ago

Text

i should hate u !!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which their post break-up era is them using shady captions to communicate and the media and fans being confused.

for when you loved them too much. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

social media au // max verstappen x fem!reader

sequel - today and tomorrow and every day after that ⋆·˚ ༘ *

warnings - language

author's note - hello!!! i really hope u like this <3 i was initially gonna do daniel ricciardo one first but i already had 1/2 of this done so i just decided to post this :) thank u sm for reading <3 i love u

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by paddock.club, f1gossippage, y/n4everrr and 6,829 others

f1news y/n y/l/n and max verstappen called it quits almost a month ago and it seems like they didn't end on good terms at all. the singer, at her london show last night, threw shade at her ex-boyfriend, saying and we quote, "the next song wouldn't have been possible without this one dude who inspired it obviously. so — here's 'i should hate you'. spoiler alert, i do. thank you!" the reason for the split is still unknown but sources who claim to be close to the pair said that 'it was bound to happen — with their different goals and plans for the future," seemingly referring to the talks that y/l/n wanted to get married and verstappen didn't. both of them have yet to comment on the situation. for more details, click on the link in our bio.

278 comments

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-> username YEAH LIKE SHE WAS SO CLOSE TO CRYING WHEN SHE SANG ISHY

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username I WAS AT THAT SHOW AND SHE LOOKED SO SAD AFTER SHE SAID THIS I FELT SO BAD

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-> username AND SHE SAID THAT THE LAST MONTH HAS BEEN HARD ON HER AND SHE APOLOGIZED IF THE SHOW WASN'T AS GOOD AS THE OTHERS

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-> username MY HEART JUST BROKE WHATCTHEBFUCK

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by lewishamilton, carlossainz55, pierregasly and 799,155 others

maxverstappen1 i know i say that i am better now, spoiler alert, i am

8,926 comments

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-> maxverstappen1 i will block you

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-> maxverstappen1 WE'RE NOT EVEN IN THE SAME HOTEL

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username I CAN'T TAKE THIS SERIOUS IM SORRY THE POST IS JUST TOO FUNNY

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by selenagomez, carmenmmundt, dualipa and 2,246,826 others

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12,628 comments

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*liked by yourusername*

username no bc girl had a lot to say she's just trying to keep it cute

*liked by yourusername*

username the way i know y/n FOUGHT for the right to post this caption

username this is MILD bc i know y/n can be ruthless 😭😭😭😭😭😭

landonorris "in love" alright.

-> yourusername IT'S FOR THE AESTHETIC

username mother and father are fighting i can't take this what tye fyxk

username 💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔

username mother slays everyday just saying

username no bc if y/n ever said ihy to me i would give up just a thought

lilymhe pretty bitch

-> yourusername u sure that's not u?????

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-> username no bc the way max and her meeting would definitely be more entertaining than the race itself

username NOT THE SONG LYRICS WHAT HAVE U PLANNED

-> username oh fuck that broke my heart what the fuck

username missing my man max in the comments section being a whipped bitch so bad ://////

carmenmmundt can't wait to see you darling 🤍

-> yourusername counting down the seconds omg i missed u!!!!!!

username y/n's manager has her on lockdown i can tell 💀💀💀

-> username with what she said at her last show i wouldn't be surprised

landonorris the post has reached the target and the target is currently eating ice cream while singing your songs

-> yourusername OH OKAY

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username the caption omg

-> username it's SO mild compared to what i was expecting tbh 💀

username slay

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by danielricciardo, georgerussell63, charles_leclerc and 892,628 others

maxverstappen1 it's all better now

comments are disabled for this post

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by carmenmmundt, charles_leclerc, landonorris and 2,829,626 others

yourusername and i swear to god i'd kill you if i loved you a less hard

13,728 comments

username SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP

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username NOT Y/N SOFT LAUNCHING HER EX BOYFRIEND

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username MOTHER?????? WHAT IS THIS??????

danielricciardo the most stressful week of my life if we're being for real

-> yourusername u can send m*x the therapy bill

-> maxverstappen1 don't. i did not agree to that.

username HER SONG LYRICS OH MY GOD

username SHE WROTE THIS SONG FOR MAX 😭😭😭😭😭😭

username okay but like. are we SURE that's max?????

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username obviously VERY happy for them but y/n censoring max's name is so fucking hilarious like

-> yourusername babe it's m*x

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-> maxverstappen1 demons thrive in chaos so

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landonorris mother father

-> yourusername child

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-> username ah yes the four family members mother father child and no

username THE HEART THE EVERYTHING THEM

username they STILL don't follow eachother LMFAO

#f1 x reader #f1 x female reader #f1 imagines #social media au #fake instagram imagines #max verstappen blurb #max verstappen x fem!reader #max verstappen x y/n #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagines #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen instagram au #max verstappen angst #max verstappen fluff

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thevanillerose · 3 months ago

Text

SQUID GAME 2 | YANDERE SCENARIOS

~ WRITING COMMISSIONS ~ ~ PATREON ~ ~ KO-FI ~ ~ NOVELS

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not own anything except my own writing. All properties belong to their respective creators.

CONTENT WARNING: SPOILERS / Yandere / Violence / Death A/N: Probably the most popular request I've ever gotten on this blog, was to write a sequel to Squid Game | Yandere Scenarios. Now it did take me a minute to binge Season 2, with a bestie. Mainly because I felt like it was a little too depressing to watch over the holiday season...(unless it's a 'Silent Night Deadly Night' sorta Christmas??). But now that I have, hoo boy.

Strap in.

THE SALESMAN

Your teeth ached.

You should have predicted the kind of man he was. You should have seen it coming long before this investigation started. His little subway game should have been a dead giveaway.

Was it any surprise you ended up gagged and bound in the most fucked up game of Russian Roulette you could imagine?

Watching him slide that metal barrel up taut between his teeth was enough to make your breath catch. It was strikingly perverse, but then again, so were many of the things he had turned out to be into. And you’d ended up in too deep before you could realize that.

For a moment though, just a moment, you wondered if maybe Heaven was smiling on you. You wondered, ever so hopefully, if that chamber may be full. If a bullet may rip right up through his skull and splatter the cheap smoke-stained motel wallpaper behind him.

It didn’t.

You flinched at the click, and that was all.

Smiling smugly, he withdrew the gun from his mouth and slid it across the table to you again.

“Your turn, [Y/N].”

Right now you didn’t even know what your odds were. You quit calculating your chances once more than two bullets had come into play. Hopelessness swelled in you, and you couldn’t even will yourself to pick up the gun. You sank in the seat, skin pressing to the ropes, lowering your head in pitiful defeat.

“Mm? You don’t want to play anymore?”

When he received no response from you, save for a sad shake of your head, he sighed and picked up the gun, twirling it aptly, gesturing it towards you as if it were only a toy.

“That’s no fun. I thought you were feeling lucky? Isn’t that why you came after me in the first place?”

You looked aside, ashamed. Mission failed, huh?

Now, all you expected was a pull of that trigger on his part. A gamble on your behalf, one he’d probably take a few times if that was what it took to put you down. Yet instead, it was the gun he put down instead.

“Can I be honest with you, [Y/N]?” he asked, steepling his fingers and leaning forward to look you dead in your tearful eyes.

“...I think it’s quite fortunate. That you stopped being so stubborn. That you gave up. Do you know why?”

Somehow, this already confusing man had baffled you further. And only moreso, terrifyingly moreso, when his fingers reached out to drift slowly up your cheek, coming to tug playfully on the gag and make you whimper.

“Because, alive? Like this? I can do whatever I want with you.”

That charming, disarming smile.

“Can’t I?”

THANOS

“I wanna keep playing with you. So push O, okay baby?”

His painted nails dug deep under your collarbones, like the worst kind of shoulder massage, his tall body leaning over yours and pressing against your back. His purple hair brushed your cheek, as did his breath when he spoke.

Thanos had singled you out and ‘chosen’ you from the get-go. He was arrogant enough to think he could get anyone he wanted, and you were a cute-looking challenge for him. Your initial resistance, your discomfort around him, he figured, had been nerves.

“But it’s all good babe, stick with me and I’ll keep you safe. That’s a promise, yeah?”

Surely it didn’t have nearly nothing to do with your actual wellbeing, and more to do with keeping you in his clutches. Surely it wasn’t because he cared less about whether one of those pink limp-dicks blasted your brains out and more about making sure nothing else with a dick got near you.

Surely it wasn’t anything like that.

You were just someone who’d make a good fuck if he could bribe the guards to let you two in the bathroom alone. Just a toy for him to play around with, as he drugged himself all the way to victory.

…He tried to keep that lie strong and real in his head. But with you standing right there, back to his chest, he knew he was trying to convince himself of some serious bullshit.

There was nobody else like you. He didn’t know why, there just wasn’t.

Whatever it was, the drugs, the impending doom, the smell of money, whatever it was…one thing he simply knew for sure, was that he couldn’t let you go.

Which meant, you had to keep playing.

You had to push O.

His grip finally loosened, as your number was called. He pushed you toward the voting stand. He bit down on his chipped, painted thumb, and hoped you’d make the right choice.

Because if you didn’t? Well.

He wasn’t letting you go anyway.

HYUN-JU

It wasn’t fair.

You were so sweet. You were so innocent. You were so understanding.

Someone like you had no place in a game like this. Whatever mess it was you’d gotten yourself in, out in the real world, Hyun-ju couldn’t imagine it was bad enough to be worth staying here. Living this nightmare. She couldn’t fathom why you had voted to keep going.

There was no way you’d last. This sweet little person who called her ‘unnie’, and had told her without a shred of sarcasm that she was beautiful…you surely had too good a soul to survive in this place. You were going to die, and you were going to die horribly, she just knew it, and she couldn’t bear it.

“Unnie…would you come to the bathroom with me?”

During the night, you’d nudged and asked her almost like a child, apologetic for waking her, but clearly trusting nobody else as much. Hyun-ju obliged of course, she felt like she could do anything for you. Escorting you to the bathroom, even if it meant dealing with some difficult guards, was such a small ask.

It was the middle of the night. Everyone was resting, or trying to, at least. Trying to steel themselves with energy, a hopeful advantage in the upcoming games. So here, it was just the two of you. Alone.

“I won’t be long!” you assured her, and hurried into one of the cubicles, while Hyun-ju turned towards the sinks, leaning against one and gripping it. She gazed up at her face, brushing her cheek, remembering how you’d called her ‘beautiful’.

You probably didn’t even realize how much that meant to her. You probably couldn’t fathom the effect you had on her.

Hyun-ju’s teeth grit and she doubled over, arms quivering as her grip on the sink’s edge steadily tightened. More and more, until her knuckles flushed in white.

I could do it.

Her head immediately shot up, staring at herself in sheer horror. How could she even consider that?

But…what was the alternative? Let you suffer in one of these awful ‘games’? See your perfect face riddled with bullets, bloodied, ruined? Let any of those other lecherous creeps in here even have a chance of getting closer to you?

…It would be a mercy, no?

“I’m done!”

Blissfully unaware of what she was truly contemplating, you emerged again and quickly washed your hands, looking up at her with your usual, warm smile.

“Do you need to go too?” you shook your hands off, “I can wait for you, unnie.”

Hyun-ju forced a shaky smile, and shook her head.

“No…I’m fine.”

“Okay!” you gestured for her to go ahead, back to bed, back to the impossible task of trying to get any rest at all in this fucked up place.

Instead, Hyun-ju reached out and gently guided you back against the sink, standing over you. Her hand lingered near the crook of your neck, her thumb gently curling against your skin.

“...Unnie?” you looked up at her, now wide-eyed, and confused.

“...You wouldn’t blame me…right?” she whispered, softly, worriedly, like her words were pure sin. Her other hand cupped your cheek gently, and you instinctively leaned into it, confused, but happy to be held by her like this.

“...I just…I don’t want you to suffer…”

The pad of her thumb pressed harder. Her other fingers slipped lower, resting on the other side of your neck.

All she had to do was bring them together. Bring them together…and squeeze.

Squeeze until you felt nothing else. Until you could go blissfully to a happier place, with no debts, and no killing, and freedom again. Your delicate body would sink against hers, and then, somehow, she’d take herself out of here too. It could be as simple as provoking one of the guards on lavatory duty. It wouldn’t be the prettiest, but at least then, you’d be together.

Out of this place. Away from it all.

Forever-

“U-unnie?”

It was how small and suddenly so frightened your voice sounded, that startled her out of it. Her hands jerked back, hovering stiffly either side of you, as you gazed up at her with so much hurt and concern and…fear.

Fear.

You were afraid of her. The last thing she would have ever wanted.

“...W…we should get back, right? They’re going to get mad if we don’t…”

She could see the way you still tried your best to smile, and be nice, be the way you’d always been with her, but it was too late.

It was ruined. She blew it. You’d never see her the same way again.

Whether you truly knew what her intent had been or not, she could feel the awkward shift between the two of you, as she stiffly followed you out. She felt sick. Was that it? The end of this beautiful thing you had?

…Beautiful.

No. She couldn’t let it be. And as she left that bathroom, and looked at those guards, and looked at every other twisted person in that room, and looked at…you. She knew.

She was filled with a dark, delusional resolve.

Maybe killing you wasn’t the answer.

Maybe killing everyone else was.

THE FRONT MAN

Young-il had seemed like a good man.

A good man, simply in a bad place. Like the rest of you. You liked to think anyway.

It was only during this game, Mingle, that you got to see the full extent of people’s desperation. What they were willing to do, to survive, to line their pockets, or both.

It wasn’t in your nature…

“You understand, right [Y/N]!?”

It wasn’t ever…

“We’re sorry!!”

…in your nature.

You’d made a small group of companions here, but as you were the weakest link, they cut you in an instant as soon as the number needed in one of those rooms required it. Their apologies were like water, they meant nothing, as you were left standing there, lost, alone, scared.

This game…was also the first time he took action.

Messing with Gi-hun was one thing, but the Front Man wanted more than that. As soon as The Salesman had shown you to him; your red, flustered face as you had been slapped around the subway station, captured on handycam video…he had been sure of something.

It wasn’t just Gi-hun. It was you too.

Perhaps, he’d even say, you were the priority.

He liked the idea of keeping you after this was all over. Which meant, for now, assuring you stayed alive through these games.

So when he saw you abandoned, it was his time to act. He practically ripped the breath out of you with how fast he grabbed and tugged you along, throwing you into a lime green room and slamming the door shut behind the two of you.

You hit the wall with a yelp, and slumped against it. But as you shakily looked to your right, and as he turned from the door and cast his sharp eyes around the room, you both saw.

You’d wanted 2. You’d gotten 3.

“H-hey, we can work this out, r–”

The man didn’t get to finish. The tears that had welled in his eyes now poured down his face as he gagged and choked and writhed against the solid arm around his neck. You gasped with horror, staggering back as tightly into the corner as you could, covering your mouth with both hands.

You watched him kill that man. Clenched jaw, staring ahead coldly, even as a living being drifted into death in his very own arms.

And only once he was sure you were in the clear…did that kindness return. That goodness, you had been so sure about.

Young-il stood, and approached you, arm outstretched so he could brush your arm gently with his palm.

“You’re alright?”

You didn’t know how to respond. Pallid and wide-eyed, feeling like you had a cord around your throat, you looked into those worried eyes and only saw softness. But you couldn’t shake seeing that hard look from earlier. Witnessing it firsthand.

His cold will. How easily he had killed.

Swallowing thickly, you nodded, but quickly moved away, muttering something about how the game must be over now. As you stepped out, he remained for a moment, glancing up at the cameras before smirking, and curling the hand that had touched you close to the mint green jacket on his chest.

Did that shock you? Really?

Then perhaps it was better if you braced yourself.

Because if it meant keeping you as his own sort of prize……he was willing to do a lot worse than that.

Like my writing? I can write for you! Check out my WRITING COMMISSIONS!

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rwrbficrecs · 5 months ago

Text

ever fallen in love (with someone you shouldn’t have fallen in love with) by @everwitch-magiks (book-verse)

@dot524: Such a fun little punk band AU. There’s a meet-cute, some mild angst, and emotional music scenes with bonding. Plus, great cameos of June, Nora, and Alex’s family. I enjoyed the pacing, dialogue, and character development of this AU and its feel-good ending, and it was fun to see them as punk rockers!

Still Sitting in the Corner I Haunt by BrokenChair, mister_nic (book-verse)

@suseagull04: This fic is a high school AU and Groundhog Day combined! Henry is characterized so well in this fic, and each part of this 5+1 has both obvious and subtle differences that combine to make the perfect fic!

The Tea Shop on Verbena Street by @stutteringpeach (book-verse)

@suseagull04: If every fic was this good, I would never get any work done, because it was really hard to put this fic down! The mystery aspect of it is crafted so well, and to top it all off, this is the best slowburn I've read in awhile. Definitely a fic you don't want to miss out on!

Pretty Competent by @noahreids (book-verse)

@na-dineee: Single Dad Alex and hockey captain Henry Fox meet for the first time at Alex’s daughter’s tryouts – and yeah, they take it slow. But honestly, Alex flirts like crazy, Henry’s texting game is on fire, and to top it all off, Alex’s daughter is totally smitten with Henry. My heart does somersaults just thinking about this super sweet and super sexy fic.

The stranger you recognise by @clottedcreamfudge (book-verse)

@suseagull04: Usually I think the sequel is never as good as the original, but that's absolutely not the case with this fic! The version of our faves that we know and love from The Tea Shop on Verbena Street return, and CCF has so much respect and love for these characters that it's impossible to tell that the sequel isn't written by the original author, only with their permission. Add to that the fact that this fic adds tropes that make perfect sense in this verse, and you've got yet another fic that's worthy of becoming a classic. I'll definitely be reading this fic again soon!

Hit (My Love) Out of the Park by bleedingballroomfloor (book-verse)

@suseagull04: Rivals to lovers at its finest! I love the way this fic comes full circle and that it's so fun- the author's love for the sport definitely shows!

the full spectrum of human emotion by @firenati0n (book-verse)

@suseagull04: if you're a fan of movie AUs, you definitely need to read this one! Roop took all the best parts of The Proposal and gave them a RWRB twist! Arthur feels, ALLLLL the proposal feels, just enough nods to the movie to make fans like me happy without writing it word for word, our boys being so oblivious but so soft at the same time, so much heart that it's practically bursting at the seams with it... I can't say it enough, this fic is absolutely AMAZING, a must read!

Flirting for Dummies by @smblmn (book-verse)

@suseagull04: This fic is the perfect combination of holiday fluff, our boys being oblivious and Henry and June being besties! The perfect read to get anyone into the holiday spirit!

I must tell you what you will not ask by @lizzie-bennetdarcy (book-verse)

@suseagull04: combine a college roommates AU with oblivious firstprince (especially Alex, as always) and holiday feels and you have an incredibly soft fic that I'll likely find myself reading again and again, especially during the holiday season!

Careful Cooking by @iboatedhere (book-verse)

@na-dineee: Alex and Henry first met at culinary school, where they were inseparable—how did they end up parting ways?! Years later, they cross paths again under unexpected circumstances … It’s a lovers-to-exes-to-lovers story, with quite a bit of angst. Beautifully written, the tension builds perfectly, and the ending is just as lovely.

Pumped by @myheartalivewrites (book-verse)

@na-dineee: Firstprince goes Climbing AU! Set in London, Alex and Henry meet at their favorite hobby: climbing. After a rocky start, the game is on. Everything about this fic is perfect: the vibes, the banter, the sparks, the pacing, the pining—such a classic and one of my all-time favorites!

Got a will to win and a Cheshire grin by @kiwiana-writes (book-verse)

@suseagull04: This fic is so unique and fun! It captures a year in Alex and Henry's lives as Santa's elves and what that job entails, and the twists and turns all lead to such a satisfying conclusion!

check out our past Monthly Faves here ❤️

#monthly faves #rwrb fic recs #firstprince #firstprince fic recs #red white and royal blue

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yayakoishii · 11 months ago

Text

Sober (Pt. 2) | Sanji x Reader

Fandom: One Piece

Pairing: Vinsmoke Sanji x GN! Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Genre/Tags: Angst, Happy Ending, Sanji being dumb

Summary: You had waited for Sanji to confess to you when he was sober. Except...

A/n: I don't usually write sequels but I felt like it and then it became unexpectedly angsty?? It's still a pretty happy ending imo, so I hope you like this continuation ♡

To new readers, this is a part 2 to my oneshot that I've linked below. You could read this one without reading that, but it won't make as much sense.

Part 1

also available on ao3!

He didn't do it.

The morning after, Sanji woke up with a terrible headache and vague hazy memories from the night before. It was only when he was serving breakfast to everyone and saw you that he remembered the… conversation you two had had. But then he dismissed it, realising it was only a dream. He had drank too much, fallen asleep and dreamt of you. Yeah, that must have been it.

Thinking so, he smiled at you as usual and mooned over Nami and Robin as always, not noticing your hopeful smile turn into a disappointed one.

Every time you popped into the kitchen or tried to strike up a conversation with Sanji after that, the dream would pop up in his mind and he ended up stammering his way out. A few days in, you realised he was avoiding you and started reciprocating by not going out of your way to talk to him either.

Sanji missed you. He didn't realise what the problem was because he wasn't being that weird. Okay, so maybe he was too flustered from his dream where you had held him so close and he had kissed you (he could still feel the phantom warmth of your breath on his mouth, the wet press of your lips on his cheek) and it was difficult to talk to you about anything without feeling the urge to do that with you. Maybe he had shut down one conversation too many but now you were avoiding him back and he didn't know how to fix it.

He couldn't just tell you about that dream he had had. You would slap him and be disgusted and freak out. Even the thought of that sunk his heart. He could tolerate being just a crewmate to you for the rest of your lives, but he couldn't tolerate the thought of you hating him forever. But without talking about the dream, he couldn't explain himself either.

A week passed like that, the two of you awkward and clumsy around each other. Everyone else noticed and Nami had tried to talk to both you and Sanji about it but neither of you let her know anything. They were all confused and Luffy just wanted you both to go back to being your usual selves because it was weird even for him. Of course, no one had the gall to say it to your faces, and Nami had stopped Luffy from saying it when he tried.

Fortunately, a new island appeared and the usual straw hat cycle of finding a city in trouble and accidentally saving them played its hand. The resulting party had you downing a few bottles of wine, although Sanji knew how much you hated the taste of alcohol.

"Why would I drink that?" Your face had scrunched up the first time Sanji had questioned you about it. "It doesn't taste good to me at all. I'd rather drink the juice you make for me, Sanji."

There was no one on the ship who praised Sanji's cooking as much as you did. You didn't hesitate to compliment his food every single day and while Sanji was very secure in his cooking ability, it was still validating to hear how much you loved his food anyway.

This past week you hadn't complimented him even once. You had never gone this long without doing it so Sanji knew you had to be really upset with him. He had to try and fix this as soon as he could.

Even during the party, his head was full of thoughts of you. When he looked out for you, he found you slumped over a table, empty wine bottles lying all around you. Without thinking, Sanji made his way over and cleared away the bottles so that you wouldn't accidentally break one and hurt yourself. You stayed silent as you watched him.

"Do you want to go back to the Sunny, my dear?" Sanji looked at you finally, trying to exude his usual self. You shot him a glare and pouted, your cheeks puffing up in what was unmistakably anger.

"Go away," you hissed at him. Sanji had to blink away the thought of how much you resembled a cat in that moment. "I don' like lyin' liars who lie to me."

Sanji had expected you to be angry at him but that statement confused him. He had avoided you, yes, but he could not remember lying to you. You were not one to lie so perhaps there had been a misunderstanding between you two?

"Which lie are you talking about, (y/n)-chan?" He asked carefully. You froze and shot him another glare. Even angry, you looked cute.

"Which lie?" You sounded outraged. "How many lies have you told me, huh?!"

"Wh– that's not what I meant!" Sanji tried to calm you down but you stood up abruptly and started walking back to the Sunny. The chef was stunned for a second. You never just up and leave. He had really badly fucked this up. So of course he had to run after you. Sanji caught up to you halfway, skidding to a halt in your path so you couldn't move. "Wait! I really don't know what lie you're talking about, my love, but I'm sorry for it. I will do whatever it takes to beg for your forgiveness and then try my best to make the lie a reality."

You stopped glaring and shot him a heartbroken look instead. Sanji felt like someone had stabbed him in the heart. Why did you look like that over… him?

"That's what it was supposed to be," you said quietly. The two of you were quite a way away from the din of the party so Sanji could make out the words. He was getting more confused but he had to be patient and hear you out. He couldn't fix his mistake if he didn't know what he had done. "You said that if this was real… you wanted to hold me. You said you would tell me how much I mean to you. That you would kiss me and tell me how much you love me. So why haven't you, Sanji? Do you not feel those things anymore? Or was it all a lie?"

Sanji froze. That was… that was the dream he had had! How did you know– Oh. Oh he had been so stupid. It hadn't been a dream at all. It had been real. And he had fucked it all up by avoiding you after all of that.

"Maybe I was the one who was an idiot for thinking you could possibly like me," you were crying now, tears running down your cheeks. Sanji's heart hurt at the sight; he had wanted to be the reason for your smile and laughter, not for your tears. He had hurt you, the person most precious to him. You suddenly grabbed his collar and pushed him into the tree and he just let you, mind too jumbled up to say anything. "I'm a fool. God, I was so stupidly happy that night, I couldn't sleep. I thought all my dreams had come true. I thought we would be in love. I thought I could finally wake you up with a kiss and tell you how much I loved you too before we fell asleep. I thought I would make you your favourite dish for your birthday and, and go do one of those love compatibility readings at the fortune telling shop for fun! I thought, I thought of so many things I wanted to do with you and you… Sanji, you never came. You never told me those words you had said when you were drunk."

He wanted all of that too. Sanji wanted to do all those things you had said and even more.

Your tightened fists loosened as you breathed heavily, still crying. Even like this, you were still the most beautiful person he had ever seen. If Sanji had had any doubts before this, then they had no place in his heart any longer. All of him, mind, body and soul, was yours. He could not let you go on with this misunderstanding any longer.

"Guess they were wrong," you chuckled wetly, stepping back. "A drunk man's words aren't his truest thoughts after all. They are just his–"

"They are," Sanji said roughly, stepping back into your bubble. You didn't look up at him, just stared down at your feet, still crying silently. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for taking all this time, my love, when you deserved to be told everyday that I'm but a fool for your attention. I was in the wrong, thinking that night had been a mere dream when my imagination cannot even begin to dream up the warmth you possess. I'm sorry and I will spend the rest of my life earning your forgiveness, if only you would find it within yourself to give me one more chance."

Your eyes looked hopeless, and you just smiled weakly at him.

"Hasn't it been enough, Sanji?" Your voice wavered. "Don't play with my heart anymore. I love you too much to survive another–"

Sanji pulled you into a tight hug, his arms surrounding you completely. Although you were still mad at him, your body automatically relaxed at the familiar comforting scent of him. "I don't have the words to even begin to apologise for what I have done. But I swear to you, love, I will make up for my mistake in every action from now on. I will leave no doubt in your mind of the fact that I'm madly, stupidly, disgustingly deeply in love with you. So much that my own heart isn't enough to hold all that love."

"You're like a dream, Sanji," you said quietly into his ear, heart racing yet mind calm. "A dream that you can't quite remember when morning comes. A dream that the more you try to grasp it, the more it slips from you. But even if you're a dream like that, I want to believe in that dream. I'm stupid enough to want to get my heart hurt again because it has chosen you and refuses to choose any other. So you better show me that my heart made the right decision."

"I will," he promised, pressing you harder into him. You were clinging onto him just as hard, but your tears had finally stopped.

"I don't like lying liars who lie, Sanji," you repeated your words from before. The chef smiled to himself. "You better keep your word this time."

Sanji hummed and let you go only to cup your cheeks in the palm of his hands. You looked at him, still a mess from crying and drinking. You were starting to look sleepy but Sanji felt like you had blown all his sleep away.

"When I'm sober," you paused to give a tiny yawn that had Sanji's heart clenching from how adorable it was, "you better be next to me."

Sanji smiled and picked you up bridal style. You curled into him and fell asleep in two seconds, barely catching his soft reply.

"I'll be there."

°•❀•°

All likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated! ♡

★ Taglist:

+ @vespidphoenix | @cobainlover | @blue-chup | @yourboyhack (tagging because you seemed interested in pt. 2; sorry if it's a bother!)

#one piece #one piece imagines #sanji fanfiction #one piece x reader #vinsmoke sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji x you #sanji x you #sanji x reader #op sanji #black leg sanji #fanfic #sanji fanfic #angst #angst with happy ending #part 2 #one piece fanfic

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ladykailitha · 11 months ago

Text

Paper Hearts Part 6

The sequel is coming along great I just have one more part to do and it'll be done. Sweet Home Indiana is nearing its end too.

Heads up! I will be going on vacation on Tuesday and won't be back until next week. So no WIP Wednesday this week as that is the day of my niece's graduation and I will be away from laptop all day.

I will still be uploading chapters and should be able to do WIP Wednesday next week. But if not I'll let you know.

In this we have the Corroded Coffin boys being silly and a wild Dustin appears.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

****

Eddie rolled up to band practice fashionably late as always. The other three boys were doing a sound check and making sure everything was in order.

Gareth looked up first. “Did you bring the hearts?” he asked excitedly.

Eddie held up his bag and the other boys cheered.

“So how are we going to do this?” Eddie asked flopping on the sofa after gently setting his sweetheart to the side. “Do we want to do the hearts first or practice first?”

They all look around at each for a moment.

“Let’s get the heart thing out of the way,” Jeff suggested, “get it out of the way so we can focus on practicing.”

“Sounds good to me, man,” Gareth said. “In case practice runs over or some shit.”

Eddie pulled his backpack closer and began digging through it. He pulled out the hearts that he’d put in a plastic baggie so they wouldn’t get bent in the maw that was his bag.

He tossed the bag onto the table in front of them and then dug around for his notebook. He pulled it out with a bunch of pens.

“You don’t have to,” he murmured, “but I’d recommend changing up your handwriting a couple of times so he doesn’t realize they’re from the same four people.”

“We were doing anonymous and initials, right?” Brian asked, picking up the bag and opening it up.

Eddie lit up, a huge smile on his face. “I actually had an idea about that. I was thinking of famous groups with four dudes in it and I thought it would be hilarious if we mixed it up a bit with some of those to avoid the whole repetition thing.”

Jeff licked his top lip. “Show us what you’ve got,” he said jutting out his chin.

He opened up his notebook and flipped to the right page. “Alright, so I was thinking the Three Musketeers plus D’Artagnan.”

“Who would be who?” Gareth asked, wrinkling his nose.

“Gareth is absolutely D’Artagnan,” Brian said without hesitation. “No question.”

Jeff straightened up and looked over at him in confusion. “Why’s that?”

“Because my dearest Jeffy,” Eddie said with a grin, “because he’s the youngest and not an original member. Therefore D’Artagnan.”

Gareth and Brian glanced at each. Brian shrugged and Gareth blinked a moment or two before he shrugged, too.

“Yeah, that tracks.”

“I’ll take Aramis,” Eddie said with a grin. “The smooth talker with religious trauma.”

The other boys just cackled.

“I’ll be Porthos,” Brian said. “The compulsive liar with a flare for the dramatic.”

“Why am I left with the dude with serious romantic wo–” Jeff stopped. “Right, scratch that. I’m Athos.”

They cackled again. Eddie had had some wild crushes, but it was nothing on Jeff. He even had a slightly tragic love story. He’d actually dated Vicki Carmichael before she became a popular kid and hanging out with Steve’s crowd. They had both loved metal music, but Jeff was pretty sure she stopped listening to it once she joined the cool kids.

“And I have a list of other ones too,” Eddie said breaking into the resulting silence. “The four winds from Greek mythology. The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles...um...let’s see...” he looked at the notebook again. “The members of Metallica. The four horsemen of the apocalypse–”

Jeff winced. “Probably not that one, man. It’s for Valentine’s day and that kinda screams the opposite.”

Eddie blinked at him for a moment and then scratched out that idea. “Fair enough.”

“The four hobbits from Lord of the Rings?” Gareth suggested.

“Yes!” Brian cried. “I get to be Samwise!”

Jeff cackled. “Gareth and Eddie are sooo Merry and Pippin!”

“Oh god! Yes! Which one is which, though?” Brian said joining in the laughter.

“I’m Merry, of course,” Eddie said proudly. “I’m the instigator and Gareth goes where I lead.”

Gareth grumped in the corner, crossing his arms and glaring at all of them. “But that makes Jeff Frodo though.”

Jeff straightened up, smug. “I could handle that.”

Eddie shook his head at his friends. “All right, also on my list are the Ghostbusters and The A-Team.”

The other boys shook their heads at either suggestion but they had a pretty good list anyway. Plus their D&D names sprinkled in here and there and they’ve got in the bag.

They spent the next half hour coming up with nice things about Steve. Eddie did have nix a couple of their ideas because they came off as stalker-esque. Which was not the look they were going for.

****

To say that Eddie got a kick out of seeing Steve light up every time he opened his locker and more pink hearts fluttered out of it was an understatement.

The goofy smile the former jock got on his face was worth every second of the time they’d spent on the project.

And it was working, too. That was the really impressive part.

Even Tommy H. was baffled.

“How the hell are you getting so many pink hearts, Harrington?” he said on Friday, just four days into Eddie’s plan.

Steve shrugged in that dorky way that made Eddie’s heart stop. “I guess people are deciding to hell with social constructs and stupid cliques and are telling me even if they don’t dare to be open about that they still like me.”

Tommy’s mouth open and closed like a goldfish then he turned around and stormed off.

Eddie lean against the lock above Steve. “Back to being king again, huh, Stevie?”

“Not really,” he said, closing his locker and standing up. “Most of them are anonymous or fake names. But there are a few that real names.”

“You think someone is stuffing the ballot box as it were?” Eddie asked, worried the jig was up.

Steve shook his head. “At least I don’t think so. But it’s sad that they think they have to hide who they are to tell me that they still think I’m a cool dude or whatever.”

“For what it’s worth,” Eddie said, pushing off from the locker, “I think you’re a pretty cool dude.”

Steve blushed and mumbled his thanks.

God, did Eddie just want to bite those flushed cheeks. They were just too cute.

“It’s worth a lot, actually,” Steve whispered. He stood up and shouldered his backpack. “Catch you later, Eds.”

Shit that little nickname had Eddie’s heart doing overtime.

****

Steve was outside the middle school waiting for Dustin to come out. His mom had asked Steve to pick him because she had to stay after hours at work for a meeting.

He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel as he hummed to the music in his head. He could have turned on the radio but Dustin hated his music didn’t like him blaring it for the whole school to hear.

His eyes kept flicking to the rearview mirror to see his backpack on the backseat. He wanted to go over the ones he got today. There had been some really good ones. Ones that melted his insides and turned them to goo.

He bit his lip and checked the mirror again. He looked at his watch and he still had a couple minutes until the bell rang.

Steve whirled around and grabbed the bag. He ripped it open and pulled out his trapper keeper. Tucked in the front pocket were the hearts. He ran his fingers over the outline the hearts made on the plastic pocket.

He pulled out the hearts and read over each one. Tracing the names of the givers, thinking about each name and wondering where they were from.

There was a thump on his window startling him. He looked up to see Dustin making faces at him through the glass.

Steve shook his head and unlocked the passenger door to let the twerp in.

“Looking at pink hearts, Steve?” Dustin asked with the shake of his head. “So pathetic.”

Steve rolled his eyes and tried to put the hearts back in the folder, but Dustin snatched them from him and wouldn’t let him take them back.

“Come on, man!” Steve whined. “They’re none of your business.”

“I want to see which girls are giving the Steve Harrington Valentine’s hearts,” Dustin said, wagging his eyebrows.

“Dude, give it up,” he growled. “The pink hearts are friendship hearts, the red ones are the romantic ones. So give it back.”

The younger teen cocked his head to the side and said, “No.”

Steve folded his arms and glared at him.

“Aren’t you going to take me home?” Dustin asked after they sat in silence for a minute or two.

“Not until you give them back.”

Dustin just shrugged. “It’s your funeral if we get home after my mom does.”

Steve threw his arms in the air, but turned the engine and started the car toward the Hendersons.

“These are actually really sweet, Steve,” Dustin said after a couple of minutes. “I like the idea of friendship hearts. That way you don’t accidentally send the wrong message.”

Steve just shrugged.

“You do know that some of these are fake names, right?”

Steve rolled his eyes and dared to look over at him. “Yes, of course I do. I am familiar with D’Artagnan after you named a fucking demodog after him, thanks.”

Dustin cocked his head to the side and then shrugged. “That’s fair. What you probably don’t know is that Aramis, Porthos, and Athos are the names of the Three Musketeers.”

Steve pursed his lips and nodded. “That’s cool.” They hit a stop sign and Steve looked over and pulled out one. “What about this one? Tommy H. thinks it’s short for Kassie, but none of the girls at our school spell it like that.”

Dustin took the heart and looked at it. “Kas. Kas. Yeah, okay. That does sound familiar. Can I get back to you on that one?”

“Sure thing, bud.”

Steve pulled up to curb to let Dustin out. “You got your key? If you don’t, you can hang out with me until your mom gets home.”

Dustin began rummaging around in his bag and Steve snatched the hearts away before he could bend them.

The kid pulled out his keys with a triumphant, “Eureka!”

Steve shook his head. “You are such a dweeb. Go on, get.”

“Bye, Steve!”

“Next time say thank you, asshole!” Steve called out the window.

Dustin turned around and gave him the double middle finger.

Steve shook his head and drove off. Why he loved that kid, he had no idea.

When he got home he pulled out the little notebook and placed the pink hearts in with the rest. All but the one from Kas. Those he kept in his wallet. He really couldn’t place why. There was just something about what they said that made him feel warm and not in the fuzzy friendship way that the others did.

There was the first one:

-Stevie I like the way you’re kind even when it doesn’t benefit you. Kas

Which Steve loved but the others were just as sweet.

-Stevie You have a great laugh, you don’t have to hide it. Kas

-Stevie That shirt today really brings out the color in your eyes. Kas

And Steve’s personal favorite:

-Stevie Each day is brighter because you’re in it. Kas

There was one for each day he got hearts in his locker so he assumed it was all the same person.

He slid it next to the other three hearts in the billfold portion of his wallet and put the wallet next to his keys on his desk. Then he put the little notebook back, careful to make sure it was well hidden.

He wasn’t sure what his dad would do about the mementos but Steve really didn’t want to find out.

He was really going to miss getting the hearts over the weekend. They really had become the highlight of his day.

He sighed and buckled down to work on his homework. It wasn’t as though he had anything better to do with his time. He wasn’t invited to any parties, he didn’t have friends to hang out with, and the people who would hang with him were fourteen year olds and they all had bedtimes.

He briefly thought about calling Eddie, but the guy had friends, unlike Steve and was probably doing something with them. Probably that nerd game that Eddie had a club for.

He buried his head in his hands.

Steve sighed. Fuck his life was depressing as shit.

With another sigh, he resigned himself to another lonely weekend.

****

Part 7 Part 8

Tag List: CLOSED

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

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#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #post season 2 #valentine's fic

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wondrluv · 9 months ago

Text

୨୧ his girl ; nh13

➪ summary: somehow, the thought of accidentally bumping into her celebrity crush never crossed her mind, until it happens

➪ warnings: none

➪ word count: 1.7k

➪ emma's notes: idk why it took me this long to post the sequel even though i just had to edit it but i did the same thing with the original so maybe it's just a thing with fangirl/his girl idk really. but yeah

Y/n didn’t know what to expect from the postgame interview with Nico. She had fallen asleep, tired after performing and hosting SNL so she wasn’t able to watch the game nor was she able to watch any of the interviews. However, when she woke up to her friends texting her and her social media notifications all over the place, it was the first thing she watched.

She laid in bed as she watched it, entranced with the Swiss man and then that was when she heard her name. Bolting upright, her eyes widened as she focused on her phone. “Yeah, well you know, I haven’t actually met her so I can’t say I like her but I do think she’s cute and that’s all I’m going to say about this.”

Nico Hischier. Like the Nico Hischier thinks she is cute like Nico Hischier of the New Jersey Devils. She was going insane. This wasn’t real.

She went onto Twitter to see her fans going crazy about the interviewer. She was sure none of her fans watched hockey, let alone knew who Nico was until she mentioned him in that interview. She thought she was 100% dreaming until she clicked on Instagram and saw the + follower symbol come up.

nicohischier followed you

She could die happy right there, her crush (her celebrity crush mind the fact) followed her on Instagram. Yep, this was her happy ending.

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

Y/n has lived in New Jersey since she was born, always being somewhat of a hockey fan, learning things here and there from her father. So even when she became a famous singer, she still chose to live in New Jersey because it was home to her.

She didn’t really piece together the fact that she could potentially run into Nico Hischier at some point in time in her life. I mean the odds of her and him being even in the same state were low, but actually running into each other was even lower. New Jersey was the fifth smallest state in the US but there was still a high chance of them not meeting, like ever.

So when she was at a coffee shop near East Rutherford, planning to meet up with one of her friends who lived out this way, she didn’t expect the Captain of her favorite hockey team to be standing there, clad in a New Jersey Devil sweatshirt and some sweatpants. It was an off day for them in between the homestand, so she could’ve only assumed that they were either done with practice or would have practice later in the day.

It was like her whole world stopped when she looked up from her phone. His following her on Instagram was enough to make her day, but she thinks this might have just been what made her year, maybe her whole entire life.

She stared at him for at least five minutes before his eyes looked up from his phone and locked onto hers. Her eyes widened at the eye contact and quickly diverted their gaze to whatever she was doing on her phone. Oh, that was so not helpful.

On her phone were pictures of Nico, because, well she didn’t have a reason, but did she need one anyway?

She heard the screeching of the chair in front of her and hoped Lila was finally here so they could leave this place and she could escape her bubble of embarrassment. Looking up she saw the man looking back at her and he waved once she finally looked up.

She panicked and closed out whatever app she was on (photos, Instagram, Twitter, Pinterest, who cares? There were still pictures of the man in front of her on her screen.), and slammed her phone down on the table.

He waved at her and her cheeks reddened, “You’re- You’re Nico Hischier?” Her voice came out as more of a question than a statement, which wasn’t what she was intending to do.

“Yep, and you’re y/n y/l/n.” His voice was on the cockier side and she stared at him “You know who I am?”

“I’m pretty sure a lot of people know who you are. And what kind of person would I be if I didn’t know about the girl who publicly acclaimed her love for me?”

She stumbled over her words as she tried to talk and Nico cut her off, “It’s okay, I’ve seen and heard worse from fans.”

“That I can believe.” The two chuckled and looked at each other, not knowing what to say or do next.

“Look this might be a stretch but since I embarrassed myself, very publicly I might add, and might as well be doing it again, I should get a favor in return, right?”

Nico raised an eyebrow at the girl, “Depends on what this ‘favor’ is?” He lifted his coffee mug and took a sip of the liquid inside.

“Can I get your number? I know it’s really forward and all and it might be a little creepy but-”

She was cut off by a hand that touched hers, “That’s not really much of a favor. It’s more like common sense.”

Nico wordlessly took her phone from in front of her and turned it over, “Were you looking at pictures of me?”

His lips turned upwards into a smirk and she squeezed her eyes shut, “Maybe?”

“Don’t worry, I think it’s kind of adorable.” Just as her cheeks returned to a normal color again, they flushed a deep shade of pink once more.

Nico effortlessly typed his phone number into her contacts and texted himself so he’d have hers. They each had the same thing in mind when they pulled up their cameras and went to take a picture of each other. Y/n giggled as she saw Nico’s phone pointed at her, “I guess great minds think alike.”

After setting their contact phones, they talked for a brief couple of minutes when Lila barged in, “Y/n! I am so sorry I’m late, I feel horrible. But you’ll never guess what I found out- holy shit, that’s-”

“Hi, I’m Nico.”

“Yeah, yeah you are. When did- When did you two meet?”

“Like five minutes ago?”

“Oh, okay cool.”

“Listen if you two are supposed to hang out, I can leave-”

“No. no, you stay. I’ll leave. Have fun you two, but not too much!” Lila said, calling after the two, exiting the coffee shop.

“Well, she’s… interesting. In the nicest way possible.”

“I’m sorry about her, honestly.”

The two continued to talk for about an hour or two before Nico had to leave, “I’m so sorry my teammate, well friend, just texted me. Apparently, he and his brother are having an ‘emergency’. And by emergency, I’m pretty sure he just means they found a spider in their apartment.”

Y/n, not even bothering to conceal her knowledge of the team or the fact that she took time to put the dots together, blurted out, “Jack and Luke are afraid of spiders?”

Nico’s eyes widened, “You know them?”

“Yeah, I’m a huge Devils fan. Have been since I was born but also none of your other teammates are brothers…”

“Oh, right. Well, I hate to leave you alone, but when duty calls as captain.”

“Go, do your captain duties.” Y/n waved goodbye to Nico as he ran out of the coffee shop and smiled, she had just met Nico Hischier.

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

Over the course of the next couple of weeks, Nico and y/n had hung out whenever possible. Whenever he had an off day they would hang out, he would invite her to lunch on game days if possible, he texted her when he and the team got back from their road trip and invited her over to his house.

They were, to put it in simple turns, obsessed with each other. They finally went on a proper date to one of y/n’s favorite restaurants. This pattern continued through multiple occasions and everyone could see the differences in their faces and lives.

Whenever y/n would hang out with her friends or go to an interview or something along those lines, you could see her glowing as she talked or just sat there. Nico’s teammates would eye him weirdly when he’d smile at his phone or was happier during morning skates. His smile was bigger and brighter whenever they won and even when they lost he still had a bit of a glow to him, much like y/n did.

On their fifth date, Nico finally asked the question, “Well we’ve known each other for about, how long has it been? Two months?”

Y/n nodded her head as she took a drink of the water that sat on the table in front of her. They were at Nico’s house and it was an off day once again for him. She waited for him to continue speaking, her nerves bundling up inside of her, “Well, I was just wondering if you wanted to make it official you know?”

Her eyes widened, not ever in a million years did she meet Nico Hischier, let alone him ask her to be his girlfriend, “What are you saying, Neeks?”

“Do you want to be my girlfriend?”

Y/n nodded and hugged him tightly, you would have thought the two just got engaged. After talking for a bit they decided to quote-unquote soft launch. Her friends were begging for details about her glowiness, much like Nico’s teammates. They didn’t have to reveal it all just yet, right?

꒰ NEW JERSEY DEVILS TAGLIST ꒱

@blakesbearsblog @toasttt11 @chiblackhawks @prettyjoseph @nicole01-23 @auriesphantom @pucks-goals-penalties @dancerbailey3 @quinnylouhughesx43 @petite-potato4 @thehuggybearslover @absolutelyhugh3s @kei943

NH13 MASTERLIST ; NHL MASTERLIST

TAGLIST ; NAVIGATION

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aww-canon-no · 2 years ago

Text

Steddie (Deaf Steve) Pt 2

You asked, so I’m here to give you more. This time from Eddie’s POV.

First kiss, sequel to Shoot Your Shot.

***

Soon Enough

Rated: T

Steve/Eddie

Modern AU, first kisses, Deaf Steve, ASL

(Content warnings: mentions of childhood neglect/abuse)

Eddie has never, ever once believed in conformity. And he’s not about to start now.

(Eddie’s ASL fuck-up is translated in notes at bottom of this fic)

***

Eddie Munson’s life has always been…difficult, to say the least. Born under a bad sign, Wayne liked to call it, but in a kind of affectionate way. The way where he’s holding small Eddie who can’t stop crying and wondering why all the other kids in his class have really nice parents who buy them things and, you know, feed them.

Wayne stepped in when he could. He never failed to show up with food and threats against his brother when he heard Eddie’s tiny, broken voice on the other end of the phone because his dad was too drunk or too high to feed him. Eventually they struck a deal. Eddie’s parents disappeared after signing some scary looking paperwork, and Eddie got to pack all his things and move to Wayne’s trailer which was small compared to where his classmates all lived, but nice.

So nice.

Like washing machine and running water nice.

He won’t have to be the smelly kid in class anymore.

He just didn’t realize how reputations clung in small towns.

So suffice it to say that Eddie abhors difficult things—including difficult people. It’s why, when his little lambs started going on and on and fucking ON about their cool, badass older friend Steve who used to date Nancy, Eddie was determined to never meet him.

It wasn’t just the jealousy.

It was that Steve communicated on a whole other level. Literally. He was Deaf. He went to the Deaf school that wasn’t anywhere near Hawkins and he knew no one, but somehow Steve and his perfect fucking hair was still popular amongst people who weren’t freaked out by the whole, he can’t hear shit, thing.

Yeah, it definitely wasn’t jealousy.

It was the fact that Steve was complicated and he used a whole separate language and Eddie just…had no plans to involve himself in that.

Never mind the kids were over the goddamn moon about being able to know ASL. They communicated with it during campaigns whenever they didn’t want Eddie to know their plans, and—although Eddie actually did look up stuff online about Deaf people (all that stuff about capital D and lowercase d and the community and culture was all very overwhelming) he was pretty sure his little lambs were technically not allowed to make up sign names for all the creatures in their guides.

But they did it anyway and who was Eddie to stop them.

He ended up picking up a few things by osmosis, whether he liked it or not.

But he was determined, damn it. He existed over here, Steve existed over there, and they all lived happily ever after.

Until the afternoon he walked into Scoops Ahoy.

***

Eddie had actually gone in to bother Robin. They were sort of outcast friends. Two freaky little gays at Hawkins High, though she was younger than him and had absolutely no interest in DnD, but they had a shared trauma bond of bullies and bullshit.

He came to a stop when he saw the absurdly good looking guy at the counter who was staring at him in ways no one had ever stared at Eddie. The way that said he had no idea who Eddie was and it was always great to have a fresh start like that.

Then Eddie fucked up by not reading his badge and realizing exactly who was there.

And like Dustin had once predicted, the second he met Steve’s eyes, he was a gonner. There was no resisting him.

He was smitten and the hole was too deep for him to claw his way out of.

He went home and looked up a bunch of videos that seemed suspect as fuck, so in the end he called Dustin who showed up at Eddie’s trailer with an arsenal of websites.

“Can’t you just get me, like, a book or something?” Eddie had asked, feeling intimated and overwhelmed and already kind of tired.

Dustin had given him the bitchiest bitch face that ever bitched. “You can’t learn ASL from a book, numbnuts.” Then his hands twisted into the complicated shapes—all fast the way Dustin kept bragging about—and Eddie assumed he was repeating most of what he’d just said.

Eddie damn-well knew that if he actually wanted Steve to say yes to him, he was absolutely going to have to learn because while the kids said Steve could speak, he hated doing it. And Eddie was the kind of guy who had been rebelling against forced conformity his entire life.

So yeah, he’d rather die than put that choice to Steve.

He learned enough to feel confident going back to the mall. And Robin was once again playing the long game with Vickie who would literally drag Robin into the cleaning closet and rock her world if Robin only asked—but he knew she wouldn’t. But it left the perfect opening for Eddie who walked up to the counter, panicked, and immediately forgot everything he’d learned about ASL in the time he’d been away from Steve’s ice cream counter.

In the end, he remembered a little, then tried to backtrack and tell Steve he’d ask him out when he was a little more fluent.

Which made Steve laugh, and Eddie wouldn’t find out until much later that it took at least seven years of immersion to become fluent so…

Yeah it was kind of hilarious.

For Steve.

Mortifying for Eddie.

The blow was softened when Steve touched him—like actually touched him without reservation or hesitation. And then he told Eddie he didn’t want him to wait. Eddie was fine as he was—that patience with his language could be a thing and Jesus H Christ Eddie was pretty sure he could die right then.

Except if he died he wouldn’t get the chance to touch Steve back, and kiss him, and make him laugh, and make him make other noises and Jesus H Christ he wanted that so bad he could taste it. Because he’d been avoiding Steve for what felt like half his new adult life but he was head over heels smitten in two visits to the ice cream shop.

And he didn’t even like ice cream.

He was lactose intolerant for fuck’s sake.

Anyway, he got Steve’s number and he didn’t wait to text.

But the date did.

They planned for the movies and then…

Wayne got hurt at the plant. He ended up being fine, but it scared the absolute fuck out of Eddie who staying at the hospital until his back hurt from the small chair, and his phone was dead, and he felt like passing out.

The nurses had to kick him out, and Eddie walked out of the room in a fog, and stumbled into the downstairs lobby where he came to an abrupt halt at the sight of a familiar, gorgeous head of hair. Steve was facing away from him with big headphones on, bobbing his head to…music?

Eddie totally didn’t get it, but he couldn’t help himself from walking over and laying a hand on Steve’s shoulder. He felt like shit when Steve jumped half a foot off the chair, but then his face broke out into a soft, sympathetic smile.

‘Hi.’ It was a simple enough sign that Eddie didn’t have to try for that one. ‘You OK?’ He signed slow, mouthing the words.

Eddie swallowed heavily, then shrugged. His fingers felt a little stiff and he wasn’t sure he had the emotional capacity to take embarrassing himself by getting signs wrong no matter how frantically he’d been practicing since the day at the mall.

Steve’s face fell a little more, and Eddie was pretty sure he’d never seen anyone look so…so soft at him before. He walked around the benches toward Eddie, then yanked him into a hug. It was so unexpected that Eddie just…melted. His head pressed against Steve’s headphones which were blaring with music, and Eddie had about a thousand questions but instead he just lost himself in the way that Steve hugged.

It was…a lot.

Of course, it was mostly that Eddie just never, ever got hugged and all the touching he did was imitated by himself and almost never returned, but that was a different trauma for a different day.

For now he just let himself have this. Have Steve. Have the body pressed to his and voiceless permission to kind of shake apart after holding it together for hours, and hours, and hours.

When he pulled back, Steve gave him a cautious smile and Eddie reached up, tapping Steve’s headphones.

‘Hurt?’ Eddie asked. ‘Loud?’

Steve frowned, then rolled his eyes and pulled out his phone, turning off his music before pulling them back and draping them around his neck. He shook his head and shrugged. ‘Can’t…hear?’ Eddie was pretty sure that was the sign for hear. Not hearing, which was a little finger twirl under the bottom lip. ‘Not hurt Feel it.’

Eddie nodded and shoved his hands into his pockets before remembering—oh shit, I need those to like, talk to Steve, and pulled them out again.

Steve laughed—but he was maybe one of the only people in the world who didn’t seem like he was laughing at Eddie, and wow what a goddamn novelty that was.

Steve tapped his arm and Eddie looked up at him as Steve curled his hand into a C-shape and dragged it down his throat. ‘Hungry-you?’

He was starved. He mimicked the sign and remembered the lesson he learned online where he had to exaggerate the sign if he wanted to emphasize what he was saying. So he ran his C-hand over his throat a few times, then added, ‘Eat, before, work.’ He met his left wrist with his right wrist once with heavy force. He knew that wasn’t right but maybe it was close enough?

Except Steve was suddenly all red in the face and making a choking sound. Eddie took a step back, but Steve reached out and snagged his arm before he could get too far, shaking his head.

Eddie was pretty sure he was supposed to be mortified but right then he was mostly curious and uh…yeah. Steve was touching him again so that was good.

Steve touched the underside of Eddie’s chin and he made an embarrassing noise which Steve must have felt because his grin twitched a little wider. Then he shook his head.

‘H U N G R Y,’ he spelled very slowly. He repeated his sign, then added, ‘S T A R V I N G?’ He made a little question mark motion with his finger. It was weirdly cute, and Eddie didn’t describe things as cute very often.

He nodded. Yeah. He’d been trying to say starving.

Steve made a noisy sort of huffing sound with some rumble behind it, then squared his shoulders and nodded before raising his right hand. His left signed, ‘Watch.’

Eddie nodded.

Steve made an exaggerated face and dragged his C-hand down his throat with more force. ‘Ok?’

Eddie nodded. Okay, yeah. He could do that.

Steve wasn’t done. ‘W O R K?’

Eddie smiled and nodded his fist. ‘Yes.’

Steve tapped the inside of his right wrist against the back of his left wrist. ‘Work,’ he signed.

Eddie repeated the sign, and Steve nodded, giving him an enthusiastic thumb’s up.

‘Now- go-you-me.’ Steve signed—Eddie was...pretty sure? God he needed to practice more.

But he answered Steve with a happy, ‘OK,’ and didn’t mind at all when Steve took his hand.

Until suddenly he did mind because…

He dragged Steve to a halt and cleared his throat, pulling out his phone with his free hand and typing as fast as he could, ‘What did I say? Before? What did I fuck up?’

Steve’s eyes got wide and he waved him off, but Eddie tugged on him until Steve let out a small groan, snatched the phone, and began to type. Eddie had not one single qualm about reading over his shoulder, and in about five seconds, he wanted the earth to swallow him whole.

“I signed what?” he demanded aloud, forgetting himself entirely.

Steve looked over his shoulder, his face kind of…different. Confused? Full of pity at how fucking pathetic Eddie was? Embarrassed to know him?

Was he…

Eddie’s thoughts came to a sudden, screeching halt when Steve cradled his face between his hands. He leaned forward until his lips were practically brushing Eddie’s ear and he whispered aloud, “I’d be happy to fix that problem too.”

Eddie was already pretty sure spontaneous combustion was a thing, and now he was about to be living proof because oh my GOD. Oh my... god oh my god oh my…

Steve dragged a thumb over Eddie’s lower lip, then raised his brows like he was asking, ‘Is this okay?’

Eddie nodded frantically and Steve began walking him backward until his back suddenly hit…oh. It was a tree. The bark was sharp against his bare elbow, but all of that ceased to matter the second Steve’s lips touched his. It wasn’t a wild, desperate kiss of star-crossed lovers in the books Eddie secretly read.

No, it was soft. It was gentle.

It was warm and it was fucking needy as hell but it was also the first kiss in a line of what Eddie was determined to have as many, many, many as he could. As many as Steve would allow.

For the rest of their lives, God help them both.

Steve gently licked into Eddie’s mouth before finally pulling away, and the stress of Wayne being hurt and then him thoroughly embarrassing himself, he wasn’t hard or anything, but there was definitely a sort of humming desire under his skin which were as warm as his hands were because they...

Oh.

He looked down and realized that he’d rucked up Steve’s shirt and was digging his fingers into Steve’s bare hips. ‘Sorry,’ he signed, dislodging one hand.

Steve laughed—a quiet huff mostly through his nose, and he shook his head before stealing a last kiss. Eddie wanted to chase it, but he forced himself to keep his back to the tree as Steve dug into his pocket for his phone again.

‘For now,” he wiggled his phone. ‘Until we can spend more time together and I can teach you more,’ Steve typed out.

Eddie swallowed heavily, then nodded. ‘Why are you here?’

Steve frowned like he was confused why Eddie would even ask that. ‘Dustin said your uncle was hurt. I didn’t want you to be alone when they kicked you out.’

Those words, that simple fucking act of kindness, was almost too much. The emotions overwhelmed him and he wanted to laugh, and cry, and scream, and fucking sing until his throat seized up and he lost his voice.

He stared at the phone screen until Steve dragged a tender touch across the top of his hand, and he looked up.

‘Come home with me tonight. Sleep,’ Steve typed before shoving his phone back into his pocket without waiting for Eddie’s answer. He knew he should probably say no because they hadn’t even had their date yet, but then again, Eddie had never been conventional.

Never would be conventional.

He rubbed a flat palm over his chest. ‘Please.’

Steve’s eyes darkened, just for a second. Eddie panicked before he realized that no, he’d gotten the sign just right. Steve was just maybe thinking of other ways Eddie might use that sign and…yeah.

Shit yeah.

Maybe not now. Not tonight. Not even very soon.

But soon enough.

Steve linked their fingers together and tugged…

And Eddie followed.

***

(Eddie’s ASL fuck-up. Common mistake in ASL- Hungry=Horny. Work=Fuck. Steve is kind of okay with that idea too lol)

#Steddie #Steve Harrington #Deaf Steve Harrington #Eddie Munson #modern AU #Stranger Things #dustin henderson #steve x eddie

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