#SB at the club 🕺🏻 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

zepskies · 9 months

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I had another idea about soldier boy…🙃💞

Imagine his partner dragged him to a 90s night at a club…LIKE DRAGGED HIM. He didn’t want to go, he didn’t wanna see anybody, he didn’t want the entire get-up and actually having to pretend to enjoy himself. Then after he steals his girlfriends Gin and downs it, he just lets loose and doesn’t give an F.

Hello, friend! I love this idea!! 🥰

This one intrigued me. I dug deep into my '90s music playlist for inspo! And if you want to know something about my writing process, I often write with music in the background. It sometimes drives the tone and feel of what I'm writing.

But anyway, getting into this imagine!

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Female Reader Word Count: 1,000 Warnings: 18+ only - just to be safe.

Imagine: Taking a reluctant Ben to a ‘90s night at the club.

You love spending time with Ben, living together, sharing your lives and your space. You've been helping him catch up on TV shows and movies he missed, helping him adapt to the ways things have changed.

He really hates all the self-checkout screens and shit at the grocery stores now. (Like for fuck's sake, he's just trying to buy his beer and coffee creamer in peace. Everything's a touch screen nowadays.)

Even the damn McDonald's has an order screen. His hand once broke straight through one out of sheer frustration.

But anyway, when Annie invites you to check out this awesome club with her and Hughie and Frenchie and Kimiko, you're sold the moment she says "'90s theme night." However, you also know that convincing Ben is going to be a nearly insurmountable task.

"That sounds dumb as fuck," he tells you.

You frown at him, hands on your hips. "Come on, Ben. It'll be fun!"

Ben likes to have a good time. Lord knows. But you also want to look the part — dressing up for a decade he had no part in.

The '90s weren't exactly a fucking party for him. In fact, he tries harder than you know to block out that entire decade, as that's when the Russians started to get truly creative on that compound...

Sensing you're losing him to his memories, you grab his hand and stroke his cheek. "I promise, if after an hour you're still not having a good time, we'll leave."

You give him those eyes. You ply him with sweet and tantalizing kisses. And you show him what outfits you're considering. (One dark green dress in particular already has his dick twitching to attention in his pants).

So that's how Ben ends up caving. For you, and no one else. (As usual.)

For a while he just sits at the bar with you while you catch up with your friends. You're so damn excited, he can tell. The inside of the club is interesting, he supposes, with dim lighting and a DJ on the stage with a very sophisticated looking setup that Ben finds wholly unfamiliar.

The music, however, is ass so far. What the fuck is this, Hip Hop? Rap? R&B? He can't tell, and he doesn't know any of the songs. It sounds like a bunch of fucking whining. And don't get him started on whatever you call grunge.

The bottom line is, this entire thing is not his scene. It makes him feel out of place...it makes him feel old. In a way that he doesn't truly feel all that often, even when he's with you. So he really wants to fucking leave. But he doesn't.

He just downs his entire whiskey and then another. He sees you're still nursing a gin & tonic beside him while you watch your friends head out onto the dance floor. Hughie, that moron, actually seems to have some moves as he shakes his ass around his blonde girlfriend. Ben rolls his eyes and shakes his head.

"Poison" by Bell Biv DeVoe comes on, and you light the hell up. You're smiling and bopping to the music.

And you look beautiful tonight. The short, dark green dress is eye-catching even under the dim lights. Your hair is wrapped in a tight but messy bun. You've got some tall black boots on and a black velvet choker around your neck. You're adorable and sexy all at once.

Ben can tell you want to join your friends on the dance floor, but you're nothing if not loyal. You did promise to stay with him. And you give him a flirtatious, teasing smile, bumping your shoulder with his.

"How're you doin', babe?" you ask.

"Fine," Ben replies, with his usual stoic front. Your mouth quirks. But when "No Diggity" by Blackstreet comes on, not only are you excited, but you also get an idea.

You slowly slide out of your seat and move in time with the beat, just vibing, dancing near your boyfriend.

You give him a little show, twirling under his hand, brushing against his side and letting your fingertips slide against his neck, down his thigh. Your touch makes small zings of sensation run through Ben's body, teasing, arousing. You know exactly what you're doing.

"Shorty get down, good Lord. Baby got 'em open all over town. Strictly biz, she don't play around. Cover much grounds, got game by the pound…"

Ben watches you with rapt attention. The smooth, sensuous way your hips move to the beat. You remove the pin from your hair and shake it out in front of him, then beckon him with a hand.

"Come on. Come dance with me."

You continue to roll your hips nice and slow. Teasing him with the curve of your ass, as well as your smile.

"She's got class and style. Street knowledge by the pound. Baby never act wild, very low key on the profile..."

Ben finally realizes that you don't see him as "the old man in the club." You invited him because you want him with you.

And what, is he afraid or something? Like he cares about what the rest of these damn pantywaists think of him.

Fuck it. He takes your gin & tonic from the bar counter and downs it all, a nice burn down his throat. Then he reaches out for your hand and firmly takes it.

You lead him onto the dance floor, where you guide his hands onto your hips and he draws in behind you. You reach back, your hand gliding up the back of his neck and into his hair.

"You're blowing my mind, maybe in time. Baby, I can get you in my ride..."

Ben knows how to dance, but this is different from what he's used to. So he follows your lead at first.

"I like the way you work it. No diggity, I got to bag it up (bag it up, babe)…"

But then, he lets the smooth beat infiltrate his body and he just lets go. His feet and his hips and his hands on your body — he turns you around and pulls you in close, flush against him so he can feel every part of you where you fit just right.

Your chin tips up and your lips brush against his. "Having fun yet?"

Ben smirks. When he gets you home, he's fucking you in nothing but the boots and that little velvet choker. But for now, he's having a good time.

AN: Thanks so much for this ask! I truly had so much fun with it. 😊

Next time:

I've got an imagine from a friend of mine. She requested some clothes shopping, some jealousy, and a whole lotta Soldier Boy being himself. (I added in some dressing room shenanigans for good measure. 😏)

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