#so follow me there. if yr cool.. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

revasserium · 4 months

Note

hiii i'm a new follower and i love your writing so much

ik u said no requests in ur bio but i just finished reading ur sanji fic.. so even if ur still not taking requests i'd just like to throw in an idea that u may or may not feel like using in the future, up to you (i'm requesting this with opla sanji in mind but if u wanna use it for zoro that's cool too)

k so imagine reader being invited to a friend's wedding, & being excited to go until they find out their ex is coming too (with their partner of some amt of yrs). so now reader is pressured to bring someone w/ them & ends up asking their best friend sanji bc they don't want others thinking they're still hung up on the past.

wedding dress

opla!sanji; 6,544 words, pining with a happy ending, fluff and a tad of angst, flirting, lovesick!sanji, whipped!!!!sanji, no "y/n", zeff is a whole mood, confessions, sanji-appropriate nickname usage, modern!au?

summary: you invite sanji to be your plus 1 at a wedding

a/n: im so sorry this took so long. but. better late than? never? also, there is a tiny bit of rehashing for ep 6 of the live action for sanji and zeff's relationship so... spoilers?

It’s a chilly, overcast kind of day when the call comes in. And in retrospect, Sanji thinks he should’ve known better when he’d seen your name on the caller ID. He’d hesitated, because by god if it wasn’t his New Year's Resolution to get the hell over you this year, but it’s almost December again and he still can’t help the way his heart races at the sound of your voice.

“Hey sweetheart — long time no talk!” he answers after a brief moment of contemplating his entire life, dusting his flour-covered hands on his apron.

“Hey! Sorry for calling so… out of the blue…” your voice is still as sweet as ever, and the way his stomach twists at the tinkle of your nervous laughter makes him want to kick himself. Still, he forces himself to stay calm, clearing his throat as he checks the oven — it’s almost done pre-heating.

“Now you know what I said about actin’ a stranger — just because you moved halfway across the entire world doesn’t mean we ain’t best friends anymore, right?”

It’s what you’d said when he’d been standing at the airport, three seconds from dropping to his knees and begging you not to go. But he hadn’t, because he knew how hard you’d worked for this — for this opportunity abroad, to study art in the birthplace of the Renaissance itself, in the heart of Italy.

“And… you might be able to come visit me, right?” you’d said, rocking on the balls of your feet, your eyes full of what Sanji could only call false hope — which is always, always the worst and most painful kind.

Sanji had swallowed and nodded and said something or other about Europe and fine dining, but there’s a terrible, prickling heat eating up the back of his neck and a voice that’s screaming at him to pull you to him and kiss you. He doesn’t. And he regrets it to this day.

“Ah — right… I’m actually calling because… I’ll be in the area in about a week and…”

Your voice pulls him out of his reverie and he clears his throat, hitches a smile to his face that he knows you can’t see but he’s sure you can hear.

“Oh! That’s great, darling! You’ve gotta come for a drink, I’ll whip up all your favorites — we can make a night —”

“It’s actually for a wedding.”

There are a few moments in everyone’s lives when they learn the true meaning of a thing for the very first time — elation, pride, stomach-twisting guilt, and… fear. True fear, the kind of fear that shakes the muscle from your bones and sends them tingling, threatens to overwhelm you with numbness. Fear, that pushes adrenaline through you like a drug, forces the world into a terrifying, all-consuming focus.

Sanji feels the fear coursing through him, wild and contentious at your words.

A wedding.

Your wedding? Perhaps?

He can’t bear to think of it; he’s so terrified he can barely breathe.

Then comes the moment after, the wave of everything else that the fear had washed away — confusion, anger, guilt (always guilt, for some reason), because isn’t he supposed to be happy for you? For you, the person he loves most in this entire world, to find love, to know happiness. He should. He should.

“Oh.”

Sanji sags back against the hard, metal counter. Almost mindlessly, he reaches into his pockets with shaking hands, digging around for a smoke.

Your breath is soft in his ear, too far across the phone line and a thousand miles of ocean.

“I originally wasn’t even planning on going — she’s not a very close friend — we had like one class together but —”

And within the span of a minute, Sanji also learns relief. The kind that melts the world around you into sizzling butter and champagne bubbles. The kind that makes you want to lie down on the ground and scream.

“— it was so close to your restaurant so I said yes but I didn’t know he was gonna be there and —”

You’re still talking, rambling like you do. And it takes nearly everything inside Sanji to pull himself back to the conversation.

“Sorry, love, who did you say was gonna be there?”

“My ex — you know the one —”

Sanji grimaces, flicking on his lighter with still-shaking fingers.

“Mm, yeah I do. The tall, dark-haired bastard who —”

“Yeah well — he’s gonna be there too and I just —” he hears you swallow hard and take a long, steadying breath. An unnameable something is calcifying in the depths of his stomach as he waits for you to collect yourself.

Curiosity? Why had you called like this, so suddenly, about a wedding where your ex was going to be? Concern? Were you thinking of going back to him?

But slowly, as you stutter through your next few words, the unnameable thing obtains a name — dread.

“— I just don’t think I could do it myself, y’know? And — and you were the one who got me out of it wh-when I decided to break it off with him so…”

Sanji takes a long drag of his cigarette and casts his eyes up at the high, white-slabbed ceiling of the kitchen, scored with long strips of bright, fluorescent lighting that floods the entire room in a direct, unforgiving glow.

He closes his eyes and counts to three.

“Course I’ll come with you, darlin’. It —” he wets his lips, taps off a bit of ash from his cigarette, and sucks in through his nose, clearing his throat of the words still lodged there, “— it’d be my honor.”

Relief — he hears it in your voice, and by gods he can almost see it — the way your whole face would light up, washed as if by the setting sun, your eyes wide and dark, your cheeks flushing his favorite fucking shade of pink and —

“Thank you, thank you, thank you! I really owe you for this one —”

Sanji makes a valiant effort at a nonchalant chuckle; it comes out sounding like a dog with a bit of bone stuck in its throat instead.

“Nonsense — what are best friends for, anyway?”

There’s a tiny pause where Sanji can feel the words best friend scraping along the insides of his mouth, barbed and harsh, leaving his tongue feeling raw and metallic.

“You really are the best friend anyone could ask for,” your voice is soft and honest and Sanji wants nothing more than to chuck his phone into the industrial blender.

You tell him that you’ll send him the details, that you can’t wait to see him soon, that you’ve got a world and a half of catching up to do, that you’ll buy him so, so many drinks, and that you’ll come bearing presents. He laughs at the right times, makes soft noises of consent and agreement, and when finally, finally you tell him goodbye, he clicks off the phone and takes another long drag of his smoke.

And then, he whips his hand back and throws the cigarette butt into the large sink, where it tinks against the metal and sizzles sadly in the murky dishwater.

“Real sucker for punishment, aren’tcha, lil’ eggplant?”

Sanji groans, turning around to find Zeff with his arms folded, the hip to his bad leg propped against a counter.

“Will you fuck kindly off — can’t you see I’m going through a thing here?”

Zeff snorts, clunking unevenly towards him.

“You been going through that thing for the last year and a half since you chickened outta askin’ her to stay so —”

“I didn’t chicken out — I — it was her dream to go to Florence and study —”

“And what was your dream then, ey?”

Sanji bangs his palm against the counter and sighs, “It’s not like I could leave you here with —”

“With what? A thriving restaurant business that I started? A guest list out the door and round the corner —”

“I — I helped!”

Zeff rolls his eyes, “Ah sure ya did, but I never asked you to, did I?”

Sanji huffs, pressing his tongue to the roof of his mouth to stop the torrent of horrible, sad, acrid things he could say and could never mean, so he swallows them back down. When he looks up next, Zeff is still standing there, but there’s a softness around his eyes.

He opens his mouth a few times, but eventually, all he says is, “The oven’s over heatin’.”

Sanji swears and jumps up to tug open the oven door. A wave of hot air whooshes out and nearly catches him in the face. Behind him, he can hear Zeff’s dark, gravelly chuckle, and the dull clunk of his wooden leg.

“You burn the kitchen down, you pay for it.”

And then he’s gone again, leaving the door swinging behind him, and Sanji very much alone with the too-hot oven and a counter full of things he can’t really remember the recipes for anymore.

Nearly a week later, Sanji finds himself standing at the airport, rocking on the balls of his feet, nearly in the exact same place as he’d been a year and a half prior. Except this time, you’re not walking away from him. You’re walking back towards him. He wonders if there’s a name for deja-vu in reverse and comes to the realization that that’s just called… a memory.

And memory seems to work in strange ways now, images superimposing themselves on top of one another — the flicker of a film lens, the bat of an eyelash, the shadow of a smile crimping the corner of your lips. All of this, he sees in the here and now, but he sees it in the air around you too, shimmering and mirage-like — all his memories and dreams of you layered over the shape of you. Your memory like a ghost of itself, trailing behind you as you walk towards him, a shy smile on your face, your cheeks flushed from travel and the cold and —

He doesn’t let himself hope. Not this time.

“Hey!” your voice is just as bell-like as he remembers it, pitched a little higher than it usually is, probably out of nervousness. But it still feels like a kick to the guts. Sanji forces himself to smile.

“Hi, love,” he says, leaning down as you reach him, but the motion aborts halfway because — is it still appropriate to hug you like he’d always done? To press his lips to your cheek or your hairline and revel in the bright citrus of your shampoo, to soak in the butter and cream of your skin like he used to?

There’s an awkward half-second pause before you’re standing up on tip-toe and Sanji’s heart nearly drops out of his ass as you lean in. But then — your lips skim by his cheek and your arms are around him, and stupid, stupid, stupid heart — thundering in his chest like horses or hooves or fists or thumping rabbit’s feet — leaping into his throat and pattering against the base of his tongue as he wraps his arms around you and holds you close. But it’s not close enough. It’s never close enough.

He breathes and distantly, a part of him notes that you still use the same shampoo.

“Hi…” your voice is warm by his ear, a bit muffled, but he can’t help the way it makes him shiver, “It’s… so good to see you.”

He nods, not trusting his own voice to do the normal thing and, oh, you know — work.

“I’ve — I’ve missed you.”

He makes a noise somewhere between a laugh and a cough as he nods again. He feels your arms slackening around him and a fierce, terrifying thing is flapping its wings in his stomach, screeching at him not to let you go. But he does — like he did before.

“I — I missed you too,” he says, though his voice sounds flat and scratchy and he clears his throat again.

A dozen different expressions flicker across the lovely planes of your face and finally, it settles on endeared exasperation.

“Please don’t tell me you still work through like three packs of smokes a day.”

Sanji laughs then, shaking his head as he reaches over for your luggage, “Nah — well, maybe not three but —”

You whack him softly on the arm.

“I actually tried to quit right after you left.”

“You did?”

Sanji shrugs as the pair of you start to make for the exit. He feels your gaze go slanted and shrewd.

“How long’d that last?”

He smirks, “Few hours.”

You whack him again and this time, he dodges out of the way just to bask in the bright spark of your laughter as you chase after him.

“Seriously though, you know how terrible they are for you!”

“Sure do,” he says, tugging one out of his pocket as soon as he clears the airport doors, pivoting left towards the parking garage. You have to jog to keep up with his longer strides, your breaths misting the air between you in silvery puffs.

He makes no move to light it as he helps toss your luggage into the trunk of his car, sliding into the driver’s seat. You huff as you wiggle into the passenger’s side.

“Then why —”

Sanji waits patiently for you to buckle your seatbelt before pulling out of the parking space, one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting soft against the middle console. He slates you a glance.

“Cause,” he says, fixing his eyes back on the road, an easy smirk twisting his lips, “it’s a metaphor.”

You groan, sinking into the seat, “Just because you read John Green one time —”

“Oi, I’ll have you know I read his entire bibliography after you showed him to me.”

“Ugh, whatever you manic-pixie-dreamgirl-loving ass.”

“Yeah, whatever — you actual manic pixie dreamgirl.”

You smile and Sanji allows himself the brief and aching delusion that the past year and a half didn’t happen, that you never left, and that you’d never leave. That you’d always be here, warm and laughing and just within reach.

The rest of the car ride is spent in mundane conversation, in how was your flight and tell me about Florence and how’s Zeff doing these days and I wanna know about your latest dish. It’s light and easy, and Sanji lets it warm the air around him. By the time he pulls into the front of your hotel, all the unsaid words from the past year and a half have soaked through his socks and into his shoes. It sloshes out onto the pale pavement as he opens the car door.

He helps you roll your luggage up into the lobby and tells you he’ll be here at 3PM to pick you up tomorrow. The venue’s just three blocks away.

“Yeah, I’ll see you then,” you say, pursing your lips, waving as he backpedals towards the automatic doors.

“You’ve still gotta send me pictures of the dress you’re wearing — I gotta find a matching tie.”

You laugh, a bit embarrassed, “Right — and here I thought I might surprise you.”

Sanji freezes, eyes wide.

“O-oh! Er — well, you can just — just tell me what color or —” he waves vaguely, “send a picture of a corner of the dress — just so I have something to color match against —”

You nod, eyes glittering, eager once more, “Oh! That’s a good idea — I’ll do that.”

“Great,” Sanji says.

“Great!” you echo, perhaps a bit too chipper.

He gives you one last smile before turning and striding from the hotel, firing up the engine as calmly as he can, forcing himself not to turn and check if you’re still watching him through the brightly lit, sliding glass doors. He allows himself a glance through the rear-view mirror as he pulls away from the drive and his heart skips a beat when he realizes you’re still standing there, right in the middle of the lobby, fingers wrapped around the handle of your suitcase, your eyes fixed on the shadow of his retreating car.

He lights the smoke the second he turns the corner, your shadow no longer in his rear-view mirror.

That night, Sanji dreams in fits and leaps, flashing images and long, sticky streams of could-have-beens —

He dreams of your laughter in a white-tiled kitchen, of powdered sugar and eggshells cracked and leaking on an exposed wood counter, chopsticks clinking against a thick glass mixing bowl. He dreams of your voice echoing off the shower tiles as you sing off-key, the way you used to when you’d sneak into his college dorm for movie night and a midnight snack. He dreams of coffee mugs and errant rose petals and dandelion seeds blowing in the wind. He dreams of dancing with you in his arms in a darkened dorm room that morphs into a bigger room with a softer carpet, one that he’d never seen before but he knows implicitly (like bodies know) is his home — it has pictures on the walls, trinkets lining the far bookshelf, your favorite scarf draped over the back of the well-worn sofa.

In the dream, you pull your head back from where it's pillowed against his shoulder and smile up at him. He leans down to kiss you, his lips hovering half an inch from yours.

Sanji jerks awake to the sound of his alarm, fingers fumbling for his phone, groaning as he smashes the orange snooze button and flips over to bury his face back into his lumpy pillow.

“Ah… fuck.”

It’s not the first time he’s had that dream, and he knows it won’t be the last. But it’d been so real that night, real enough to make him wonder if it just might come true.

He rubs at his sleep-crusted eyes and peers blearily at all the notifications on his screen. There’s a text from you with a picture attached. He clicks it open to find a short message attached to the picture — I really did want to surprise you…

He blinks for three seconds at what looks like a blurry picture of studded black silk before he remembers —

“Send me a picture of a corner of the dress — just so I have something to color match against.”

He allows himself a laugh, swinging his feet out of bed even as he types back — you coulda just told me it was black…

He watches the three little dots appear and disappear a few times, chewing on his bottom lip, before the text appears — well there are different shades of black, right???

Sanji laughs, shaking his head.

sure there are.

A string of tongue-out emojis, followed by an equally long string of middle-finger emojis.

He spends the rest of the morning fussing over which specific black tie to wear before settling on one that he’s quite sure is the exact same shade of black as your dress (and yes, he does have quite the collection of black ties), before tugging his best suit out to press.

It shouldn’t feel so easy, slipping back into the rhythm of things, of texting and smiling and hearing your voice in his head when he reads your texts. It shouldn’t feel so easy to forget the months of radio silence and guilt, the oppressive, resonant weight of what might have been if either of you had done a single thing different that day at the airport — he wonders if he should’ve reached for your hand, he wonders if you’d ever looked back.

He hadn’t. He couldn’t let himself.

He is waiting for you in the lobby at 2:45, wearing a hole into the plush Persian carpet, collecting strained looks from the concierge who had assured him three times in the last four minutes that he’d already rung up to your room and that you’d said you were on your way.

“Wow, you’re early — sorry I took a while — I couldn’t figure out what to do with my hair and —“

Sanji lifts his head and thinks distantly that all those rom-com cliches of a guy looking up, time itself slackening, the room smearing sideways around him, the music going slow, the lighting soft — all of it is painfully, startlingly true after all.

Because there you are, walking towards him, still saying something, but he can’t make out the words anymore because time isn’t really a thing anymore, is it? He can’t focus on that and also the dark glimmer of your dress, the way the neckline skates just beneath your collarbones, barely skimming the skin there before it slips down along the slope of your shoulders in a way that makes his breath unspool inside his chest like loose threads.

And in the slanted, ethereal light of the winter afternoon, your dress looks like it’s cut from a swath of darkest midnight, moonless and scattered with stars.

You blush as Sanji attempts to pick his jaw up off the floor and hitch his lips into something resembling a smile.

“W-wow… you look…”

Your smile is shy as you press your palms against the dress, looking down, “Thanks… you don’t think it’s… too much?”

Sanji shakes his head, feeling dazed.

“No! I mean — it’s —“ his mouth is dry, drier than he ever remembers it being, and suddenly it’s very hard to swallow and Sanji isn’t even sure the muscles in his neck know how to perform the action, let alone force words out alongside it. He struggles for another few seconds, his jaw working furiously as his eyes skitter down and back up the shape of you.

“You look… perfect,” he says, finally, because the word has been ricocheting around his chest like a stray bullet and he had to let it out somehow.

“Thanks — you don’t look so bad yourself,” you say, your voice breathy in a way that makes Sanji’s stomach squeeze.

He offers you his arm, and you glide forward to take it.

He drives the three blocks to the wedding venue in a daze, his mind spinning slow and off-axis, tilted so by the gentle waft of your perfume, the lullaby of your voice as you chatter nervously about this and that and the weather, I mean, can you believe it’s gonna be an outdoor wedding in the winter? He wonders briefly why you’re so nervous, and then he’s reminded of the reason he’s even here at all — your ex will be here. Ah. Right.

“Ready?” he asks, offering you his arm again as the both of you follow the meandering stream of arriving guests toward the paved outdoor garden area where the ceremony is due to take place.

“No, but… you’re here so…” you let out a breath and for a second, Sanji almost thinks he hears the hint of an ache in your voice. An ache like an old scab picked at too many times, like unrequited love, perhaps. It’s an ache with which Sanji is so intimately familiar that he immediately tamps it down and vows not to think about it again for the rest of the night.

There are stiff-backed waiters wandering around with plates of hors d’oeuvres and thin flutes of bubbling pink champagne.

Sanji grabs two glasses and hands you one.

“Cheers, then.”

“Bottoms up,” you say, tossing back the entire flute in one.

Sanji cocks his eyebrows, grinning as he follows suit, smacking his lips.

“Alright then, I guess if that’s how you’re playin’ —”

Your laughter is light, if a little strained, but he remembers how quickly bubbly drinks tend to go to your head and makes a concerted effort to slow down. You make it all the way through the actual ceremony without bumping into your ex, though you do lean over and grab Sanji’s hand as the bride and groom exchange vows — something about love being a choice, one that they promise to make every morning of every day for the rest of their lives — and he looks over to find you misty-eyed, bottom lip caught beneath your teeth.

“Sap,” he whispers, leaning over. It earns him a choked laugh and a half-hearted elbow in the ribs, but it’s worth it to see the tension melt from your shoulders.

Sanji turns back towards the bride and groom, exchanging rings now, and unbidden comes the images of you and him standing where they are — you in a dazzling white gown, him still in a dark suit, but one perhaps of more expensive material and much better tailoring. He thinks about all the things he might promise you, wonders at what you might promise him in return —

“I promise to love and cherish you —” you might say.

“I promise to make all your favorite foods,” he might say.

“I promise not to touch your emotional support le creuset pans.”

“I promise not to make you taste all my experimental dishes —”

“Okay, but what if I want to —”

He imagines the way the crowd would titter, how the officiator would affectionately clear his throat. He imagines Zeff’s warm, well-worn laughter, rough and a little torn at the edges because he’s just as sentimental as the next guy behind all the beard and gruffness. He imagines the crowd smiling up at the pair of you, the way you’d squeeze his hands to get the both of you back on track —

He jerks out of his reverie as you tug your hand away from his to clap, and it takes him a beat to realize that everyone else is clapping and cheering too. He blinks — the bride and groom are kissing, pulling apart as the music swells around them and they link hands to walk back down the aisle.

Sanji clears his throat and hurriedly gets up to clap as well, his eyes trailing the radiant smiles on both the newlyweds’ faces. Another sharp ache sings through him but he feels your hand in his again and he can’t tell if he wants to grip you tighter or pull away. They’d both hurt just as much, wouldn’t they?

“C’mon, let’s get inside — I wanna judge the catering with you,” you whisper, your breath tickling his cheek, and he knows without having to look that you’re standing on your tiptoes, your chin almost propped on his shoulder.

He fights down a bout of shivers and smiles, “My favorite part of any formal event, honestly.”

You laugh, “I know — me too.”

So you spend the entire dinner service whispering to each other about the food —

“God, this steak is so well done I think it just might dislocate my jaw —”

“What’s in this sauce?”

Sanji chews thoughtfully before making a face, “Dunno, but it’s got oregano.”

“Oh the cake looks good though.”

“Yeah, but we both know how much sugar and butter goes into that right?”

You nudge him with an elbow, “Weird, cause I’m pretty sure happiness is also made of sugar and butter.”

“Well for me, it’s always been…” but Sanji trails off, biting his tongue. No. He can’t say that — not now. Not here.

Because for him, happiness has always just been you.

So instead, he swallows passed his own mouthful of regrets and attempts a lopsided grin. And thankfully, your attention is drawn elsewhere by a loud peal of laughter before he has to make a shitty joke about happiness being a well-lit kitchen and a gas-lit stove.

You’re both at least a bottle of champagne deep when it finally happens, inevitable as a summer storm — your ex saunters up to you on the dance floor, sporting a grease-slick grin, eyeing you up and down like a piece of well-cut meat. Sanji is at the bar, grabbing more drinks and you’re catching a breath of fresh air just outside the dance hall.

“Well, well, well — look who it is.”

Sanji turns sharply at the sound of the voice, his eyes narrowing — Asshat. Fantastic. The bartender is putting the finishing touches on two custom cocktails but blinks, confused, as Sanji swipes both drinks out from the bar and casts him a hurried grin.

“Thanks mate, these look great,” Sanji raises the cocktail glasses at the bewildered bartender before hurrying off, slowing ever so slightly as he reaches you, straightening his spine and smoothing out his shoulders.

“Here, got them special-made for you,” he says, pressing the cocktail into your hand, cutting into something that Asshat is saying.

“Oh! Thanks — oh wow, this looks so good!” you beam up at him, taking a sip.

“Oh wow, didn’t know you were still hangin’ out with this guy,” Asshat says, hooking his thumbs into his belt-hoops and jutting out his chin.

You frown, pressing your lips, “Excuse me?”

Asshat scoffs, posturing, “I mean, when we broke up, it was cause o’him right? So I just thought you might’ve realized what a mistake that was and —”

Sanji barely has the time to feel offended before Asshat is gasping and stumbling back. You’d tossed the remainder of your drink straight into his face.

“What the —” Asshat sputters, his fists clenching, but quick as anything, Sanji swipes out a leg that catches him right in the shins and makes him stumble. In one fluid movement, Sanji pushes his own drink into your hand before reaching out the other arm to steady the now flailing Asshat, catching him around the shoulders.

“Whoa there! Seems like you’ve had a bit too much to drink, my friend!” he says, loud enough for the people around you to hear. He thumps Asshat on the back in a would-be kind gesture before tugging him close, still coughing, and hissing in his ear —

“Listen here, you asswipe — you’re gonna turn around and walk away and stay the fuck away from us for the rest of this wedding, you understand? I’ve got plenty more o’this for ya if you don’t, got it?”

Sanji scuffs his foot along the gravel-covered ground in a motion that could easily be mistaken as fidgeting, but you know better. And so, it seems, does Asshat, who scoffs and shoves Sanji off him with a glare, but after another second, straightens his drink-soaked jacket, turns, and stalks away.

You let out a long breath, swallowing hard.

“Hey darlin’… you alright?” Sanji turns and bends down to level his eyes with yours.

“Y-yeah — thanks — you didn’t need to —”

“Nah. Course I did — it’s why you invited me, right?” he allows himself a lopsided grin that borders on self-deprecating and you look up, eyes wide.

“No! I — that’s not —”

“It’s okay, love — I promise I’m not offended —” Sanji’s babbling, he knows he is — but he has to, because the alternative of letting you speak, of letting you confirm what he already knows to be true (that you’ve only ever seen him as a best friend, that you love him in all the ways except for the one way he wants you to, in the one way he loves you) is too much. He tucks his hands in his pockets and shrugs up his shoulders, pulling them up towards his ears like armor.

And then you lean in and kiss him, and every single word he’s ever thought of saying just to fill the silence turns to mist and mornings on his tongue. His mind turns blissfully blank and when he regains consciousness (or has he? Because isn’t this the dream he’s dreamt every waking moment of his life for the past… however many years?), he thanks every god he can name that he feels his fingers in your hair, his other hand cupping the soft curve of your jaw. He tastes your uncertainty against his lips and presses in, hoping, praying that if he just kissed you hard enough you might understand.

When you pull away, he can’t help the satisfied purr that curls up his chest at the pinkness in your cheeks and the slightly glazed-over look in your eyes.

“O-oh — sorry I —”

Sanji shakes his head, leaning in to push his forehead against yours.

“Nah, nah, nah — if you tell me that was a mistake now I might just turn around and never speak to you ever again — because don’t you dare —”

You let out a helpless laugh, shaking your head as you reach up to cover his hands with yours. It’s only then that he realizes they’d been shaking. He swallows and he thinks he can taste every single morning after for the rest of his goddamn life in the whisper of your breath.

“It — it’s not, I wasn’t —” you close your eyes and Sanji holds you still, foreheads still pressed. Distantly, Sanji is aware that people are cheering, that more drinks are being poured, that the dance floor is probably a mess. But he doesn’t care. He doesn’t think he’ll care about anything else ever again — why would he? Now that he’s got you.

“Shh… take your time, love… we’ve got all the time in the world.”

He feels the relief take you, and then you’re falling into him, burying your face in the lapel of his suit jacket, probably smearing it with your foundation. Vaguely, Sanji considers framing it when he gets home.

“I’m… I’m sorry it took so long — I’m sorry I didn’t — that I wasn’t…” you curl your fist into the material of his shirt and thump him lightly on the chest, even as he laughs and wraps his arms around you.

“I know, darlin’… I know.” Sanji presses his lips into your hair and can’t help a smile.

Finally. Finally.

Your hair smells like citrus shampoo.

Finally.

“I thought about you every single day,” you admit, your voice small when you finally pull back to look at him again. He thinks there might be tears in your eyes, or maybe it’s just the starlight caught in the thick night sky of your lashes.

“Did you now?” he asks, fumbling for some semblance of normalcy amidst this night of revelations.

You nod, fervently, and god he wants to kiss you again. Briefly, he wonders if he should, if he’s allowed to now. Instead, he smiles and cocks his head.

“So? What changed?” and he can’t help the tiny note of hurt out of his voice, the slightest shiver of disbelief. After all, cynicism is a hard habit to break.

Especially after so many years of practice.

You shrug, sighing, “Nothing — everything. I mean — I’d always… but then I thought — you had your career as a chef and I didn’t even know what I wanted to do with my life. But it —” you lick your lips, and Sanji nearly breaks when you tear your eyes away from his. He wants to force you back, to soak in the dark and bright of your gaze till he can see the world exactly as you see it.

“It’s always been you…” you say.

At this, Sanji does break. He tips your face towards him with a thumb and a forefinger and leans in, waiting for you to pull back, bracing for it. But you don’t — instead, you press in and close the space between you again, and again, and then again.

He wants to tell you — he needs to tell you that it’s always been you too, that there’s never been anyone else. From the moment he first laid eyes on you, he’s known, even though both of you were children back then, and neither of you had any idea what “love” actually meant. He knew then, too.

“Love…” his voice trails off, but you smile, and he knows you know, knows that you can hear it in the rawness behind his voice, in the softness of his breath, in the way it shakes.

You make to kiss him again. But your lips hover half an inch from his and you stop. Sanji sighs.

“What — why’d you stop?”

Your smile is sweet and sharp, honey glinting on a razor’s edge, and he knows that he has you. And maybe that he’s always had you and was just too blind, too terrified, to see it.

“Haven’t you heard? It’s a metaphor.”

Sanji groans, “Fuck your metaphors.”

You bat your lashes, pulling an expression of mock affront onto your face.

“Well at least wine me and dine me first —”

Sanji licks his lips, “What’dyou think I’ve been trying to do for the last ten years?”

Your breath catches.

“Oh.”

Sanji smirks and kisses you again, slowly this time, languid and deep. Unhurried. He luxuriates in the way you go soft in his arms, in the way he can feel the gentle hitch of your breath as he runs his tongue along the edges of your teeth, coaxing you towards him, closer and closer and closer.

The hardest, angriest part of him wants to swallow you whole, bite down just to hear you hiss, to taste your blood on his tongue. To make you feel even a sliver of the pain he’d felt. He tamps it back down — there’s time for that later.

Instead, he forces himself to pull back and allows himself the satisfaction of watching you chase him, pursing your own lips with a bashful look away, your cheeks dark.

“So,” Sanji takes half a step back, puffing out his chest in the best imitation of a fuckboy at a wedding party, “wanna get outta here?”

You let out a helpless laugh, falling into his side. He lets the sound ring through him like so many silver bells.

“Yeah, I’d love that.”

He chuckles, looping an arm around your middle and leaning towards your ear.

“Your place, or mine?”

You roll your eyes, “I’m pretty sure I still have a toothbrush at your place.”

Sanji hums, “You still have a whole drawer at my place.”

You smile up at him, open and happy and sincere, “Then… I guess that’s your answer then.”

#opla #one piece x you #one piece x reader #one piece live action #opla sanji #one piece netflix #one piece fluff #sanji opla #sanji x reader #sanji x you #vinsmoke sanji #vinsmoke sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji x you #opla x reader #opla x you #opla fluff #x reader #floofy floof floof #scheduled post

658 notes · View notes

desswright29 · 10 months

Text

FEMININITY

Pairing: Shuri Udaku X Confused reader

Word Count: 7.2k 😳

Contains: Fluff, Smut(18+), Reader has a child

A/N: This story kicked my ass so I really hope y’all read and enjoy! An homage to what’s beautiful about being with a woman.

Queen: I needed to get away. I’ll be in your city. Can I come by to see you guys tonight?

You look down at the message and smile. Shuri. You two became fast friends when you began an internship at one of the outreach centers. You ran through the ranks easily which caught the attention of the Princess, and caused you two to form an easy friendship. After your internship was over, you got a job at Stark enterprises with a glowing recommendation from the now Queen of Wakanda. You and Shuri remained friends, though you didn’t see eachother as often due to both of your busy schedules. But every once in awhile she came around to unwind from her chaotic life.

Angel: Anytime Queen. We’ll be glad to have you. 🥰

You text back and sit your phone down. You turn around to your seven yr old son sitting at the Kitchen table, eating his breakfast like a big boy. “Guess what little guy!” He looks up from his food, and smiles at you beaming as he senses your excitement. “Shuri’s coming by today!” His eyes widen as he bounced a little in his seat.

“Shuri!” He said voice filled with joy “Mommy, You think she’ll bring me something cool!” He asked. Eyes big and bright, already anticipating his new gadget. “Who knows kiddo.” You say with a smile. “Finish your food and have an awesome day in school and we’ll see.” You already knew she’d definitely be bringing him something. She was particularly impressed with your son and loved giving him things that would eventually cause you grief.

“Zahir, Let’s go little one!” You yelled to him from the living room. He came hopping down the stairs. You’d gotten yourself and your son ready for the day, and were out of the house in record time, now you were eager to tackle your day. You dropped off Zah with a hug and kiss and headed to work, all smiles and waves as you headed to your office with a bounce in your step. Asia, your work bestie, saw you coming as she got coffee from the break room. Her brow raised over top of her cup as she took a sip looking at you suspiciously. Your eyes connected and you continued walking right past her. “Oh no you did not!” She yells after you as she jogs to catch up, falling in your step.

“My aren’t we chipper and ready for the day!” She says to you sarcastically doing a happy little wiggle. You look at her and roll your eyes. “ I’m always happy to be here. I love my job nosy.” She scoffs. “Uh huh, speaking of nosyyyy, I hear the Queens in town.” She smiled big, cutting right to the chase, typical Asia. You raise a brow avoiding eye contact. “British?” You say inquisitively as you both enter your office. She closes the door behind you both.

“Bitch, you know what Queen I’m talking about. The one that’s got you walking through the office smiling and waving like Ms. America!” She mocks you smiling big, waving, laughing, and pointing, amplifying your earlier interactions. You laugh “I was not doing all that. You’re so extra!”

“Whatever girl, that’s not what I’m here for. Have you heard from her?” She sat in one of the leather chairs infront of your desk making herself comfortable. You follow her lead sitting in the the chair behind your desk. “ Yes I have she’s stopping by tonight.” Asia squeals. “Oh hell yea! I’m coming” You raise both brows and shake your head “Absoluetly not! Don’t bring your ass to my house Asia.”

“You’re right, I don’t wanna be in the way.” She said wiggling her brow and rolling her body.

“Get a life.” You say trying to hide your grin.

“Damn girl! Leave it up to you to pull a fine ass African, stud Queen. Where they making those at? Talk about one of one.” You try to hold back your laugh. “I really hate you, who says shit like that Asia. And Shuri is not a stud, she’s a Stem, and we are very much FREINDS and that’s ALL.” You say with emphasis.

“Ah Ha! You said that shit like you believed it. That was cute. It’s giving Letitia Wright.” She laughed, and you flicked her off. “I’m just saying, Stud, Stem, whatever the fuck she wanna be, I’m straight as an arrow and she could fold me in half and strap my ankles to the headboard! Do you hear me! I’d be turning all the tricks! The neighbors would know my na-“

“Aight! Damn Asia you always take it far. Get out of my office so I can start my day.”

“That’s cool. I’ll do that. But you better hop on that strap before somebody take your seat hoe. Give that baby a stud daddy!” She gets up out of her chair.

“ Please, Leave”

“BYE! Bougie bitch.” She whispers the last part under her breath as she walks out.

“I heard that!” You yell.

“SO!” She yells back.

You shake your head laughing. You smile and continue your day happily anticipating the night.

————————————————————————

You looked in your mirror placing your locs in a high ponytail leaving two locs out in the front. You’d showered and changed into a form fitting black short set. The shirt rose just above your naval showing off your waist beads. You sprayed on your “Killian Love Don’t Be Shy”, glossed your lips, and headed to your kitchen to check on your sides before putting the steaks on the grill. You turned on your speaker and danced around as you cooked. Shuri loved your cooking. You smiled as you thought of how she always reacted to your meals. Zah Sat in the living room playing games on his Nintendo Switch, when you both heard the door bell ring.

You both stopped what you were doing and raced eachother toward the door. Your son ran past you pushing you out of the way. “Boy!” He got to the door and smiled at you. “Beat you Mama!” He laughed, and opened the door. You didn’t have time to react before your heart dropped to your stomach. There she stood with that sexy ass smile, hands behind her back. Her undercut was fresh, beautiful curls sat neatly atop her head stopping right above her brow, right ear adorned in several earrings, and she had a single gold chain around her neck. She wore a dark grey shortsleeved compression shirt with matching sweat pants. Her lean muscles more pronounced than the last time you saw her, tattoos gracing her arms making her even more of a work of art. She looked at you and smiled with a wink before squatting down in front of Zahir.

“SHURI!!” He yelled running into her arms, that she held out for him, as she dropped the bag she’d had in her hands. “Wow little man! You’re getting so big.” She says pulling back and ruffling his individual twist. “Yea, Mommy says I’m a big boy. I got muscles too. “He says stepping back flexing for her.

“Ooooweee!” She reached to touch it and snapped her hand back fast. “Dang kid! You almost broke my finger.”

“Yep, I’m gonna be really strong and fast like you!”

“Oh you’re coming for me huh little panther?” She says as she picks him up and throws him over her shoulder as she stands and walks in the house. Using her foot to close the door. He laughs and kicks as she holds him tight while walking over to you. It felt like your world slowed down, like she was moving in slow motion towards you. Your eyes trailed her body. The way she moved, the way she paired her femininity with masculinity was feminine in its own right. Only something a woman could master so gracefully. With her hands being full, she could only lean down and press a gentle kiss on your forehead in greeting. You wrapped your arms around her and Zah, Her scent immediately enveloping you; vanilla, cinnamon, and a hint of burnt cherry. She was intoxicating.

“Hey Shuri poo!” She pulled back and smiled. “It smells good in here.” You roll your eyes and smack her arm playfully. “It’s good to see you too Shuri” She looks you up and down, eyes lingering on the swell of your hips a while longer than they should, she smirks. “Always a pleasure Ms. Y/l/n.” She walks away, drops her bag next to the couch, and then takes Zahir off her shoulder into the air and slams him into the couch. “Shuri! Don’t start that rough sh- stuff already!”

Shuri looked at Zah with wide eyes. “I know what she was about to say, do you know what she was about to say.” “Shuri! Don’t get put out immediately. Give yourself time.” She bunches up her lips in skepticism. “ Girl, please. We could take her right Zah! We could beat her up and take over the kingdom.” “Yea! You don’t want none mommy!” Shuri laughs. “Tell her Zah Zah!” You bite your lip, and shake your head at the interaction. “It’s been thirty seconds and I’m tired already.” You say walking back into the kitchen. You couldn’t help but smile listening to Shuri and Zahir continue to wrestle in the living room as you finished up cooking.

Zahir excitedly runs into the kitchen with Shuri trailing behind him, she’d taken off her shoes and made herself comfortable per usual. “Mommy! Mommy! Look at what Shuri made me.” You look down at the gauntlet on his wrist. As he aimed it at you and shot little foam balls. You stare at Shuri blankly as you get hit repeatedly. She looks at you, lips folded clearly holding back laughter judging by the furrow in her brow.

“Wow! Another well thought out gift that won’t drive your mother crazy! Way to go Shuri!” You say with false excitement, narrowing your eyes at Shuri. She burst into laughter. “All in a days work!” She says with a salute. You smirk rolling your eyes, and turn back towards the stove. You feared your eyes would roll out of your head by the end of the night. Zahir ran out of the kitchen to continue launching balls from his gauntlet all over your clean home. Shortly after he leaves you feel arms wrap around your waist, as Shuri nuzzles her head into your neck. You lean back into the hug, laying your head onto hers.

“You’re not mad at me, are you?” She askes as she moves her hands up and down your sides, then lower to began caressing your lower back with her thumbs.

“Ofcourse not. You’re not doing anything I didn’t expect. He loves it when you visit you know.” You say bringing your hand up to stroke the side of her face, as you close your eyes body melting into her touch.

“Yes, I know, I wish I could be here more often. He’s a blast.”

“Yea? It’s almost like he’s the only reason you come.” You say teasingly.

Shuri turned you to face her taking your hands in hers, gently placing them around her neck. She wrapped her arms around your waist pulling you flush against her as she placed her forehead against yours.

“You know that’s the furthest thing from the truth. I’ve missed you, Ntomb'am (my girl), You look so appetizing.” You blush looking into her deep brown orbs.

“I’ve missed you too. You look aight” You say, laughing at your own joke. Shuri gasped in exaggerated offense. “Aight!? Damn you’re cold. I’m truly, truly hurt. Really.” She says, staring into your eyes, both of you getting lost until you were interrupted by the chime of her kimoyo beads. You both unwrap yourselves from eachother and you turn fast trying to slow your heart rate, as she steps back to answer the call.

“Hey! What’s going on?”

“Nothing I just missed you, called to see how everything went today.”

“It went great! You know I walked out with them in the palm of my hand.” You hear a little giggle from the other end of the call.

“Ofcourse you did. You’re brilliant!” Shuri smiles, you internally roll your eyes. Turning around to plate your steaks.

“Thank you! You’re so sweet to me. I’m getting ready to eat dinner now, and then I’m gonna lay down. It’s been a long day. I’ll call you first thing tomorrow though. Ok?”

“Ok babe! Talk to you tomorrow.” She hung up and you looked at her as you turned off the stove, eyebrow raised.

“Riri?”

“Yea.” She says walking back over to you placing her arms back around your waist.

“She sounds nice. You two together now?” You ask.

“Why? Do you want me?” A glimmer in her eye and mischief on her face. Those words made your pussy quiver.

“Shuri, don’t start.” You removed her arms from your waist.

“I’ve already started sweet girl.” She stepped back licking her lips.

“Dinners ready” You say trying to hide the effect she was having on your body.

She smiled and nodded. Eyeing you knowingly.

“Hm. Ok Y/n.”

Your relationship with Shuri was….well… complicated. You see, Shuri and you were indeed only friends (much to Shuri’s dismay) because you were “straight”. Atleast, that’s what you’d told yourself all of your life. That is until you met Shuri. From the moment she’d entered your workstation in the lab of the outreach, she’d created thoughts in your mind you had never imagined experiencing before. Casually put, she confused the fuck out of you; and as time passed it only got worse. You’d insisted she keep her distance so that neither of you crossed any lines, figuring that would quell the desire. But, the longer the time apart, the more intense your want became. So, when you would see eachother, touches would linger, hugs got longer, turning into gentle caresses, and intimate forehead kisses; but never further than that.

When she informed you of her budding romance with Riri Williams you’d thought you’d feel relieved, like you move on, but jealousy hid itself deep in the pits of your stomach; And that’s how you intended to keep it. You couldn’t have feelings for Shuri. You were straight and she was no experiment. She was human, and a damn good friend. You couldn’t loose her.

Shuri called Zahir in to eat and then helped you set the table. You all sat down at the table to a dinner of steak, creamy potatoes, broccoli, and homemade rolls, like a happy little family. Moments like this made you fantasize about what it would really be like to be the Queens woman. Whenever she stepped into your home it felt as though everything was complete. Her and Zahs connection made your heart swell, watching them together gave you butterflies.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head over there? “ You were snapped out of your thoughts and met with Shuri’s curious gaze across the table from you. “Nothing really just zoned out a bit,” You lie. Zah giggled. “You said mommy’s head is pretty.” Shuri laughs with him. “It is a pretty cute head kid, you gotta admit. That’s where you get it from”

“You two are so childish” you say. “I am a child mommy.” You all laugh together.

Once you all finish eating, you start clearing the table and preparing to wash dishes. “Alright Zah, it’s time to get your toys all put away so I can give you a bath.” “Aww, mommy I want to stay up and play with Shuri.” He says with his lip poked out. “No sir, you have school in the morning and Shuri will be leaving soon. All of your toys need to be up by the time I finish the dishes.” You told him sternly.

“I don’t wanna!” He screams at you, stomping his foot. Your brows furrowed as you walked up to Zah. “Little Boy-“

“Woah! Allllright little one.” Shuri said swooping in and picking him up, saving him from your wrath. “How about I stay? You go in the room and pick up your toys, let mommy give you a bath, and I’ll come in and hang out with you until you go to sleep. And in the morning I’ll be here to make my famous pancakes. How does that sound?”

“Yes!” Zah shouts.

“Only if it’s ok with mommy, and you have to apologize to her and promise me you’ll never speak to her like that again. That wasn’t cool little guy.” Zah looked at her and nodded. “Ok I promise” Zah wiggled out of Shuri’s arms and walked over to you hugging your legs. “I’m sorry mommy. Can Shuri please stay?” They both look at you with puppy dog eyes and lips poked out. You look back and forth between them and let out a sigh.“Ok, Shuri can stay.”

“Yes!” They both say, and give eachothers high fives. “Go before she changes her mind.”

Zah runs out of the kitchen at lightening speed. “Zah slow down!” You yell after him. Shuri looks at you with a grin like Cheshire Cat. “You two are gonna be the death of me. And how do you plan on explaining where you are to everyone? Where are the Dora?”

“Y/n, I am the Black Panther a security detail is hardly needed. I am also an adult. I can go and come as I please.” You look at her skeptically.

“Y/n it’s fine.” She said dismissively. “And I already came prepared to stay.” She said using her head to point towards the overnight bag on the floor in the living room. “Really Shuri.”

“Really, really. Now let me help you with the dishes.” You moved over and allowed her to help, knowing there was no point in saying ‘no’ to her. As you guys finish up the dishes, “Can’t get enough” by Tamia started to play over the speaker. “OOO I love this song! I learned the dance too. Come dance with me.” She said as she turned up the speaker.

“Oh now I gotta see this.”

“You doubting me?”

“Not at all Panther” You leaned back against the counter looking at her. Humor filled your eyes as you waited for her to dance. Shuri’s eyes lowered as she placed her bottom lip between her teeth with a smile, and began to dance. Just when you thought you couldn’t get anymore attracted to her, watching her smoothly get through the complicated line dance, made your stomach flutter. “Come on entle, don’t leave me hanging!” She says, stopping to sway her hips side to side and raise her arms up in front of her, making a come hither motion with both her hands. Your body floated over to her, grabbing her hands as you danced together laughing, having a blast until the song ended.

“Ok, ok I see you, you smooth with it.”

“ I’m African, of course I am!”

“Oooook conceited.”

“What’s wrong with that?” She says licking her lips. “If you know, you know right.” She walked up to you grabbing your hips. Pushing you back into the cabinets, looking you deep in your eyes, licking her lips. She was laying it on thick tonight and you weren’t sure how much longer it would be before you crumbled under the pressure. You pull away quickly. “I gotta get Zah ready for bed.” She stood smirking. “I’ll finish up in here.” She calls after you. It was gonna be a long night.

————————————————————————

You’d now gotten Zah all washed up and dressed for bed. Shuri sat beside his bed,after a game of hide n seek and reading him his millionth bedtime story. You were down stairs enjoying the quiet with a glass of wine and “Living Single”.

“Alright Zah Man, you gotta go to sleep little guy. You don’t want to be sleepy in the morning. You can’t be the smartest kid in the world if you don’t let your brain rest.” Shuri says.

“Ok. But can I ask you a question?”

“One more and then its sleepy time. Promise?” She held out her pinky. Zah nodded.

“Promise.” They locked pinky’s.

“Now what’s up little one.”

“Shuri can you live with us? You make my mommy smile a lot and you’re the coolest! I wish you could be here forever.” Shuri looked at him a moment, gathering her thoughts trying to figure out what to say. She stood and walked over to lay back on the bed with him as they both looked at the ceiling. She sighed.

“ You know if I had it my way, you and your mommy would be in Wakanda with me. You are such a brilliant little boy. I’d be proud to have you in my lab teaching you all that I know. Maybe one day your mommy will let me take you. Hm? But, right now you have to be here in school, your mommy’s work is here, and I have to be in my Country. I’d love to be here more often, but I’m busy making sure the world is safe for you. I promise to see you and your mommy more often though. Ok?” Shuri looked over at Zah who was obviously fighting sleep now, his blinking slowing down.

“ Ok.” He says in his sleepy little voice. “I love you Shuri.” Shuri picks him up and lays him on her chest, her eyes watering a bit. “I love you too, Zah.” She says rocking him to sleep.

————————————————————————

Shuri lay a bit longer with Zah. The conversation they’d just had overtaking her thoughts. In all honesty, Shuri was taken with you. Had been the moment she’d laid eyes on you. She wanted nothing more than to come home to the both of you everyday. But, you were “straight”, so she respected your boundaries. It seemed that as time passed though, those boundaries became lax. Almost as though you felt the same. She’s tried to let this go, but it’d become so much more than a crush, and she couldn’t fathom that the feeling wasn’t mutual. Maybe she was setting herself up to be hurt, overthinking the signals. Either way, Shuri knew she was in love with you, and it felt like you loved her too.

She sighed, placing Zah gently on the bed and quietly making her way out of the room after placing a gentle kiss to his forehead. As she made her way to the living room, she stopped at the top of the stairs, looking down at you as you sat brows furrowed in concentration, as you tapped away at your laptop. She took note of how effortlessly beautiful you were. How just the sight of you made her heart pick up in pace. How being here with you and Zah made her feel at home. She quietly walked down the stairs, sneakily walking up behind you, she placed her hands on your shoulders. “You work too hard.” She says as she began to massage the tention out of your shoulders. You let out a low moan at the pleasure of her touch.

“Says the Scientist Queen Panther.” You look up at her and smile. Shuri lets out a chuckle, as your eyes close and your head lulls forward giving her better access to your tense neck and shoulders. She bent down to whisper in your ear, “Don’t forget masseuse.” You let out a hum, as she kissed you right bellow your ear. She stopped massaging and walked around the couch to stand in front of you.

“Is there a deadline?” She asked referring the work you were doing. “No. Just staying ahead of the game.” “Good, you’re done for the night. Relax with me.” She removed the laptop from your lap, and placed it on your coffee table. Plopping down on the couch and grabbing your legs to place them on her lap, you bit your lip as you watched her beautiful, tattooed hands go to work on your feet. “So what’s been up here? Have you started seeing anyone yet? “

“Why do none of my friends beat around the bush. Right into it huh?”

“No point. Answer the question.”

“No. I mean, I’ve been on a few dates. They were just… Shit.” You shrug nonchalantly.

“Hm” Shuri turned to look into your eyes as she massaged you.“ I just had quite an intresting conversation with Zah.”

“Hm? Really? What about?” Your eyes started to close again. Her hands were like magic. You couldn’t help but wonder how they were in other a-. “He says I should move in with you guys” Your eyes snapped open, and her eyes were still locked on you. “He says I make you happier. Do I?” She says, she scoots down slouching more in her seat resting her head back on the couch, not taking her eyes off of you. Quite frankly, Shuri no longer wanted to pretend so here it goes. “ I-I enjoy when you’re around? Yes.”

She snickers “You enjoy when I’m around huh?” She turns her head away from you staring straight ahead a moment before turning her body toward you fully. “Y/n. I gotta be honest. I want to move forward with Riri. I really like her. And she likes me. Like really likes me. She’s beautiful, intelligent, she makes me laugh, she’s easy to talk too, and she knows what she wants. Everything I could ever want or need in a woman. I deserve that.” You remove your feet out of Shuri’s hands and off of her lap placing them underneath you. “You’re right. You do deserve that. So what’s stopping you?” Shuri stares as though she’s looking through you.

“That.” She points at your eyes wiggling her finger back and forth between each eye.

“What?” You say, following her finger before swatting it away in irritation.

“The jealousy in your eyes when I mention her. The little eye roll in the kitchen earlier. I saw it.”

“Shuri-“

“Y/n, how do you feel about me? And before you answer, you should know that I see you. The way you look at me. How your body reacts to my touch. You haven’t been able to have a serious relationship since we met eachother. It’s been years. So what I need is for you to be honest with yourself.” You look at Shuri trying to figure out what route to take. You could continue on with your silent crush, or you could lay it all out on the table. You sigh and choose the latter. You stand and began to pace.

“Shuri, you mean the world to me. I’ve never felt like this about anybody before let alone a woman. It’s scary. These feelings I have for you..i-it’s crazy how you make me feel. Just a look from you could bring me to my knees Shuri. The way you walk, the way you talk, the way you look at me and touch me, It’s all so overwhelming. I honestly don’t know what I feel or why I’m feeling it, and feelings are involved. I don’t want to experiment with you to try and figure out whatever these feelings are and then I loose you completely. Fuck! I’m so confused.” You continued to pace avoiding eye contact with Shuri. Nervous tears streaming down your face.

Shuri gets up from the couch walking over to you, grabbing your face with both hands wiping at your tears, and pulling your body up against hers. Wrapping your arm around her waist with one hand, she grabs your chin and lifts it until your eyes meet hers with the other.

“ You’ve never asked if I wanted to be used.” You looked up at her, your confusion apparent. “I don’t think you’re confused. I think you know exactly what you want and it scares the hell out of you. But, see we’re at an impasse here. I can’t move on because you and that little boy have my heart, and believe it or not, you can’t move forward because I have yours.” You try to look away and she turns your face right back to hers.

“Let me take care of your body. Express to you how I feel physically, emotionally, spiritually. I can show you how it feels to be loved by a woman. And if you don’t want it after I’m done. I promise you’ll still have me as a friend.”

You look up at her, heart racing, terrified at what she was proposing. This could potentially complicate your friendship, or you could end up in a relationship with the intimidatingly beautiful Queen you called friend. Both were equally scary for you. But, with her standing infront of you offering up her body to the science of your chemistry, you couldn’t resist. You nod.

“Take care of me.” Shuri smiled and nodded. Slowly she leaned in capturing you lips in hers. Her hands began to massage you everywhere releasing your tension. You’re heart beat against your chest as you finally kissed the lips you’d dreamed about. You let out a shaky breath against her lips. This was so much better than a dream. You couldn’t have imagined the feeling of being in Shuri’s arms like this in your wildest dreams. The first brush of her lips against yours took your breath away. Now as you stood kissing her, your hands entangled in her curls, you felt your knees give way. Shuri felt it as well, Her strong arms tightening around you as she moved backward to the couch.

She sat as you straddled her lap your lips never breaking contact. She placed her hands on your plump behind pressing you into her, signaling for you to move. You began to grind against her as her hands moved to your hips helping you as she rolled her body up into you. Shuri breaks the kiss, lust now pooling out of her eyes.

“ That right baby. Keep moving for me.” She slapped your ass. “Here’s how this is gonna go sphalaphala sam (my pretty one). I’m going to make love to you. Well. Very Well. I’m going to make your body feel things it’s never felt before. I’m going to fuck your mind, your heart, and this pretty little pussy all at once. This will feel spiritual. I’ll be gentle this time, but If at any point you want me to stop just say it, and I will. Do we have an understanding?” At this point your body was screaming for her. You were salivating and would do whatever she said.

“Yes” You moaned, and Shuri smiled.

“That’s my good girl. Keep going.” She leaned foreward and removed her shirt.

“Look at you. So sexy in this tight ass set and those waist beads.” She eyes you with her hands still on your ass, still grinding into you as you rolled your hips onto her. “Nah you’re not confused mtuwam. You know exactly what you want huh beautiful?” You opened your mouth but the words got stuck in your throat. You could only let out a soft “Ah”.

“Awww, My sweet Y/n, you need me don’t you. Tell me what you need?” You were panting, rocking against her, pussy tingling from the friction.

“I-I n-need you to t-touch me.” You couldn’t believe this was happening. You were here crossing a line with your friend that could change everything. But you were here now and there was no turning back.

“ You sure that’s what you want?”

“Yes! Yes. Please Shuri” Looking into her eyes, you were now putty in her hands. She bit her lip, and raised her brow as though she was not convinced.

“Please baby. I n-need it so bad.” You whisper leaning in ghosting your lips over hers. You could feel heat seize your body as she smiled against your lips.

“Yea?” She whispered back. “I know baby.” She reached inbetween the two of you rubbing your pussy through your shorts. “She’s talking to me. Leaking through your shorts, so wet and warm. I can smell her. She’s calling out to her Panther.” She rubbed with a little more force as you continued to grind. “ You hear her..” She leaned up to your ear and whispered “Panther, Panther,” as she pressed into your pussy making it squelch.

“Fuck! Shuri please!”

“Shuri’s not here any more babygirl.”

“Ha uuuhn! Panther!”

“You learn fast sthandwa. Let’s take this to the bedroom hm?”

“Please”

She picks you up carrying you to your master suit. Closing and locking the door behind you guys. Once you two exited this room nothing would be the same again.

“Griot play my “Y/n” playlist”

“Yes, Panther”

You looked at her shocked as “Anywhere” by 112 began to play.

“You made a playlist?”

“What can I say. I am always prepared” She grabs your hips and kisses you walking you over to the bed sitting you down. She breaks the kiss once again. Backing up,she begins removing her sports bra. “You see, the best part about being with a woman. Is the body.” She removed her sports bra. “The curves, so soft and supple.” Her voice so soft and seductive drove you crazy, as you were now met with her pretty breast “Do you want to touch me Y/n?” You nod, mouth slightly ajar as you took in Shuri’s breast.

“No, no sweet girl. Use your words”

“Yes, I want to touch you.” Shuri proceeded to walk up to you, still wearing her sweat pants, while her upper half was completely bare except for the gold chain that contrasted so beautifully against her mahogany skin. She grabs your hand placing it up against her soft yet toned stomach. She let out a sigh as you moved your hand upward. Up, up, up until you were cupping her breasts. Shuri bit her lip as you pinched her nipples.

“Can I taste them?”

“You can do whatever you want babygirl.” You lift yourself up and catch her nipple in your mouth. Suckling like a new born cub. She throws her head back. “Mhm. That’s good my pretty girl.“ The taste of her skin in your mouth and the sound of the moans that came from her made your pussy pulse. You hum with her nipple still in your mouth. Shuri pulls on the band of her sweat pants.

“Take these off for me Sthandwa, finish undressing me.” You happily oblige. Reaching forward pulling Shuri’s pants and underwear down at the same time. She giggles. “Eager hm?” She stepped out of her pants and laid back on the bed. “Strip for me, slowly, I’ve been waiting for this, and I want to savor every moment.” You got off of the bed slowly and began to seductively strip for Shuri, determined to put on a show for her; not knowing she had plans to put on a show of her own. She slowly opened her legs and began to play with her pussy, eyes never leaving you. “Watch me while I watch you” She moaned. You were placed in a trance.

You let your shirt come up over your head, as she began rolling her body into her touch biting at her lips. Her soft moans driving your senses wild. The light layer of sweat building up on her begining to make her body glow in the moonlight. Her breast heaving up and down as she let out heavy breaths moaning your name. Her toned thighs spread wide for you, folds glistening, a stream of light hitting it perfectly putting her on display. She was all woman, and that excited you. Your shorts collect one last release of your want before being pulled down your thighs.

“You knew what you were doing with those tight ass clothes and waist beads.” Shuri smirked. “Straight my ass. Look at you. Mouth and pussy drooling for me. There’s nothing like a woman huh? Ahhh!” Her head falls back in ecstasy as you stand there caressing your breast, and teasing your nipples; completely naked, physically, and emotionally. You were entranced in her pussy, your sight not leaving her drenched core. The sounds calling out to you. “Shit! I could cum just from how desperate you look right now. Is that you want intel? You want to watch me cum for you?”

You nod but quickly correct yourself “Yes. Yes Shuri I want to see you cum please.”

“No.” Your eyes glance up to meet hers. “Tell me pretty girl. Tell me to cum for you.” You look at her. You smirk feeling a bit bolder. You lick your lips. “Cum for me beautiful.” Your voice was low in octave filled with lust. Shuri’s eyes widened briefly at the sudden change, before you watched her stomach contract and her body began to shake, as her once methodical strokes became sporadic. “Oh B-bast! Y/n! I’m c-cumming for you! Uuuhhnn!”

As you stood and watched her cum, you knew for sure you were hooked. You wanted to hear her scream your name like that all the time. The girly tones of her voice awakening something inside of you. She was a woman.

“Come my love. Touch me, feel what you do to my body.” You walk over to the bed and hover over Shuri leaning down to kiss her lips, as you reached down and touched another woman for the first time. You moan into her mouth at the feel of her. Her slippery folds encasing your fingers. Meshing around them perfectly. “That’s all for you baby. Now let me show you what I can make your body do for me.” The look in her eyes was devious. As she sat up positioning your body to straddle her thigh. “Grind for me”You began to move your body against her. Shuri wanted to ignite all of your senses, so she grabbed your waist and brought you closer wrapping you in a hug, pressing her body up against yours completely.

The feeling of her bare breast pressed against you felt so erotic, as she held you close and placed kisses all over your chest. “Oh Shuri.” You moaned in a whisper. She handled you so gently moving her hands down to your plump ass massaging into it as she helped you get off on her thigh. It felt as though she was worshipping your body. She kept one hand wrapped around your body and the other she brought inbetween the two of you, finding your pussy she began to rub. “Ah fuck! Baby!”

“You like the way I take my time baby. No rush. I want you to feel good in places you never knew you could.” Before you knew it you were laying on your back as she kissed and sucked down your body, making her way toward your pussy. She held up your thighs caressing them as she prepared to dive into her meal. She licked and sucked all around your pussy, before finally making contact with your clit. “Fuck Shuri!”

“Mhmm” she moaned into you as she devoured you.

“Oooo eat this pussy Panther!” She smacked the inside of your thigh. Then she wrapped her arms around both of your thighs and pulled you to the edge of the bed. Devouring your pussy. “S-Shuri ha hooo my g-god!” You were very sure you were seeing heaven, and then she placed a finger inside. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head “M-more. P-please Shuri more!” You reached down grabbing her by her curls grinding against her face. She placed another finger inside of you, and you felt like you were floating. “OMG! Uhn! I’m gonna cum Panther!” Shuri said something but you’ll never know what it was between euphoria and her mouth being filled with pussy.

You came hard in her mouth, she continued eating, getting you all cleaned up. And then she kept going. “I want some more pretty girl. Can you give me more.”

“Uhn! I d-don oh Sh sh pleasassee!! “ your words were failing you.

“Yea you can give me more.” She palms your ass. Getting back up on the bed laying on her back. “Come sit on my face. Drown me in that shit baby. Use me.” She opened her mouth wide sticking out her tounge ready to be your seat. You carefully lower yourself onto her face, but she grabs your thighs holding you down as she ravished you. You started moving your hips faster getting close to another orgasam. “Oh baby I’m gonna cum again! Fuck me Panther! Drink me!” Once again the band snapped and you were cumming, but this time liquid sprayed from your pussy as you squirted on Shuri’s face. She took it like a pro drinking you up.

��Good fucking girl! You’re my good girl huh Y/n. You taste so good.” She said as you fall to the bed trying to control the shaking from the after shocks. “You’re doing so good for me. You’re going to give me one more. Can you do that for me? Want to watch me cum on top of you? ” You look up at her tears falling from your eyes. You didn’t know if you could, but you’d damn sure try if you could see Shuri cum for you again. “Mhmm” is the only sound you could get out. Shuri understood loud and clear.

Shuri sat up, grabbing your legs pushing them all the way back, she straddles you in a squat. “As bad as I want to strap you until you’re unconscious, I want their to be no misunderstanding that it is a woman is fucking you like this” She begans to move against you, feet planted firmly on the bed, the muscles in her legs flexing. “Mmmm!” You let out a long groan from the overstimulation. “Shshsh. Don’t worry baby I got you.” She slowly whined her body against you in a circular motion. You looked down at her, chin still covered in your cum, body glistening in sweat. “ Ahhhh! fuck” she moaned throwing her head back. You followed a large bead of sweat that moved down from her long sexy neck, to her chest, down the valley of her breast, slowing at her waist that whined expertly above the backs of your thighs. It was femininity in all it’s beautiful, ethereal, glory. You snapped. “Oh My God Shuri! You’re so fucking sexy!” You reach and grab her waist moving underneath her as best you can.

She looked down at you like a goddess on her throne. “ You never felt like this before?”

“I c-can’t t-take it. You’re d-driving me crazy. Please! I want you! I need you Shuri. I want to be yours! Please Let me be yours!” You screamed, tears streaming down your face, as you were full out crying now. The whole experience was overwhelming.

“Nobody’s ever known your body like this b-baby? Uuhn! Made you c-cum s-so much? Knew exactly how touch you huh?”

“N-no, n-no, nobody baby! Nobody m-makes me feel like you Shuri! I’m gonna cum again for you!” Shuri fell to her knees, causing her pussy to grind harder against yours as she picked up the pace. “Oh Fuck! Go ahead b-baby let it go, I’m right behind you!” As if your body ran on her command you opened up the flood gates cumming into Shuri’s pussy, as she followed behind.

“OH GOD SHURI! I’M IN LOVE WITH YOU! I’m so in love with you.” You cried. She collapsed on top of you shaking and breathing hard from her intense orgasam. You both held onto eachother tight. You wrapped your legs around her waist as she nuzzled her face into your neck. You heard the sniffles before you felt tears dropping onto your neck.

“I know sthandwa. I’m in love with you too”

#letitia wright #letitiawright #spotify #shuri udaku #shuri x reader #shuri fanfiction #shuri fluff #shuri x you #shuri fic #shuri smut #Spotify

555 notes · View notes

craacked-splatters · 6 days

Text

ur crossover prison dimension au intrigues me @imagionationstation do u have any more stuff to share about it? 👉👈

Sleep deprived so feeling a lil loopy(sorry for any incoherent babble) but Shsjdks yeah yeah adding this 2 the "stuff 2 draw for" pile here

I kept coming back to this au. More specifically the part where Dee and Leon r trapped in the prison dimension. Like Rise animators did a cool job on animating the squishy fleshy organic dead alien race stuff in the movie! Look at this!

Ooey gooey icky ew ^^^ I love it

And also the prison dimension looks so sick and cool

I imagine surviving in a dead wasteland full of decay and corpses and echoes with a lunatic hunting u down 24/7 wouldn't be fun. What horrors do u think they would witness while trying not to bleed out and die? What trauma would Kraang inflict on these two? Revenge and rage are the only things fueling that war criminal & truly I don't think there's anything holding that guy back (for the love of everything I hope the bois don't have to fight any other rise kraang tech, it's genuinely terrifying they're literally gonna die Do NOT let that maniac get their tentacles on anything else besides the weird corpse armour they're wearing plz & thank u)

These poor kids. Leon went from the movie events to this, and Donnie literally got poofed to atoms before popping up in the middle of a child murder. Wowza how overwhelming. The one thing that keeps popping up into my mind is the two of them huddling together under some ruins or holding hands bcuz they're too afraid 2 end up separating and dying alone. How strange would it be. To have a different version of ur brother(- not quite a stranger bcuz there's still similarities that he shares with ur own, he's a brother, he's not urs but there's another versión of u running around, there's a whole nother universe bcuz of course there is and somehow ur still bros in it and he's here instead of his home he's right here) how strange it must be to this different face, different voice and eyes and mannerisms an entire new soul as ur only anchor. To be the only thing to keep u from falling apart. To see each other as a constant reminder of what they wished they had, of wanting to their families, of wanting to just leave this hellscape where things don't make sense and just go home.

But when they do finally get rescued there is no feeling of safety or realness or even a home to greet them. Only a sense of wrong & confusion & hurt & the equally trembling hand holding ur own and those scared haunted eyes that followed u since the horror show of the prison dimension.

(Trauma bond!! Yay🎉)

How would Leon and Dee interact with each other at first and how did it change as they continued to survive? What was it exactly that made them start clinging to each other? Would it become a habit for them both to go reaching for the other even when nothing is said or done?

And and!! I was thinking about the 2 angst paths u set out too. They're both sooo good!! Honestly u have such a big brain where do u keep coming up with these genius ideas! The custody battle route is very angsty :)) heehehehe. Rise splints and Don having no problem stopping Dee from going home with his family for Leon is so sweet and also AUUUGHH!! They're literally willing 2 do whatever is needed to keep their family safe & happy and I cry but then I remember the 2012 fam being the same & then i cry again

Also ur so right d 2012 bros have never been apart for long, they literally spent 15 yrs of their life together bcuz together meant safe and safe meant home. They're literally heat seeking missiles for each other even in the show. With them it's either they all die or none of them do. How painful it must be to be ripped apart so suddenly like that :((

Um anyways so yeah very good au👍 will continue to doodle gonna sleep now

#together meant safe and safe meant home #<- its been stuck in my brain ever since i wrote it down in my fic docs *sobs*#anyways yeah mhm cool au IS very cool #what was the au name? i couldn't remember 😭#the screen looks fuzzy but still i press on😎#tmnt 2012 donnie #rottmnt leo #tmnt crossover au #splatter scribbles #phone art #its literally about 2 be 4am #time for sleep gn #tmnt 2012 #rottmnt

55 notes · View notes

lightseoul · 1 year

Text

asymptōtos

synopsis. you needed him to meet you halfway. he couldn't.

cw. fem!reader, student-turned-worker!reader, busy prohero!katsuki, aged-up (~22 yrs old), established relationship, fluff, hurt/(may or may not have) comfort

word count. 5.8k words

The first time it happens, it leaves you more in a state of awe and adoration than worry and disappointment.

In your defense, you never thought you’d end up dating anyone in college, let alone during your very busy senior year marred by senioritis and thesis woes, but the universe decided it has other plans for you.

And so here you are, on your first date with the #2 Pro Hero, no less.

Of course, credit must be given where it is due. All of this wouldn’t have happened without the notorious meddler and your elementary best friend Ashido Mina, who took it upon herself to be Bakugou’s wing-woman during her housewarming party two weeks ago.

Not only did she serve as the pesky glue that resisted all of your attempts to stray away from Bakugou’s immediate circle, but she also later on confessed to having begged him not to delete your number that she not-so-sneakily saved in the man’s phone.

You got so embarrassed when you received your first text from him, imagining him being held at gunpoint by Mina just to send the darned message. You contemplated not replying to save the poor guy but decided against it. You’re glad you did, though, because he ended up surprising you with his responsiveness and consistency, resulting in daily texts until he finally asked you out on a date.

In a very roundabout way, too:

Maybe we can find out what the hell your problem is over dinner sometime.

Which brings you to the present, post-said dinner, seated on one of the benches in a park you’ve never heard of until now, admiring the view.

“I’ve never done this before.”

Your head whips to look at Bakugou, surprised at his sudden statement. Things have been silent since you left the sushi restaurant.

Well, until now.

“What—go out on a date?” you joke, meaning to lighten the mood.

At that, he visibly reddens, and looks away.

“Dumbass,” he mutters under his breath.

Shit.

“I’m sorry,” you start, “I just thought—you being you—you’d have far more experience than I have.”

You can see him hesitating before looking you right in the eyes, “Wow.”

“What?”

He shrugs, “This is the first time someone’s referred to my being ‘me’ as a compliment.”

“Really?”

He merely gives you a firm nod. You can tell he’s trying to be cool about it, despite how much vulnerability this topic is requiring out of him.

You sigh, shaking your head, “Well, that’s bullshit.”

His voice is quiet when he replies. “...Ya think so?”

“Yeah,” you smile at him, “I mean, I like you. Being Bakugou Katsuki should make you proud.”

You don’t realize the carelessness of your comment until you see his eyes widen in shock. Yours follow suit upon realization, “I mean–”

“Yeah–”

“I didn’t–”

He interrupts, “Don’t worry. I get what ya mean.”

You could only stare at each other in astonishment until you look away in embarrassment.

Fuck.

You’re about to change the subject in the hopes of clearing the air and replacing the awkward silence that has befallen the two of you when you feel a feather of a touch graze your pinky.

You hold your breath in anticipation—willing your palm’s sweat glands to magically close in case Bakugou’s making a move to hold your hand—but that’s when it happens.

A piercing wail echoes throughout the park, and you both rip your hands away from each other.

Embarrassed (Bakugou), confused (you), and alarmed (both), you whip your heads towards the source, only to find a crying kid and who seems to be his father crouched down, frantically shushing him.

You narrow your eyes, trying to figure out what’s the matter from your spot on the bench.

“Kid’s dumb cat got stuck in that tree,” Bakugou points with his right hand, and sure enough, an orange Tabby cat is perched comfortably on the sakura tree near where the kid and his father are standing.

How he managed to figure out the problem in a millisecond is beyond you, but you couldn’t spare a single moment to marvel at his hero senses because Bakugou’s now standing up, palms cracking with mini-explosions.

He sighs heavily, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say he was annoyed.

Whatever scowl he might’ve had on his face is schooled into a neutral expression when he turns back to tell you to give him a second.

You nod, too stunned to speak, and the explosions on his palms begin to heighten in degree. He starts toward the direction of the civilians, before hesitating in his steps.

“What’s wrong?”

He shakes his head, back still turned towards you.

“...For the record,” he looks up to the cat still balanced expertly on the tree’s branches, possibly to avoid your gaze for what he’s about to say next.

“I like you, too.”

The second time it happens…is a bit different. It wasn’t like you weren’t aware this sort of thing was coming. On the contrary, you anticipated it, knowing full well what you were getting yourself into the moment you agreed to become Bakugou’s girlfriend.

But expecting and dress-rehearsing for pain doesn’t make it any less wounding once the actual thing does roll around.

It was your graduation day, and everything was going swimmingly. Bakugou got to officially introduce himself as your boyfriend to your parents while you were waiting for the ceremony to begin.

He didn’t want to admit it, but just by his body language alone, you could tell he was fucking nervous.

(Later on, during dinner, he’d whisper to you how he barely got any sleep the night before. Who was the one graduating between the two of you, again?)

Your parents’ reception of him was favorable, thanks to the briefer you gave them about his media presence not at all being an accurate depiction of the real thing. Your father tossed you a somewhat withering look after the encounter, but you chose to let it go. You weren’t going to let anyone rain on your parade today.

By all accounts, everything was going great. At the end of the program, everyone who you wanted to be present was there congratulating you, giving you bouquets of flowers, and taking pictures for remembrance’s sake.

After bidding goodbye to your college peers, you then headed to your favorite high-end restaurant to celebrate, where you sit now, listening in amusement as Bakugou gets grilled by your family and friends.

“So, Bakugou-san,” your mother continues, “what do you like about our Y/N?”

“Mom!”

Needless to say, you didn’t expect to be dragged into the grilling session.

Your mother only looks at you like you’re the one who’s lost your marbles. To your left, you can hear Bakugou snicker under his breath. You elbow his side in retaliation.

“What? You can’t expect me not to ask him that.”

“Yeah,” your cousin chimes in from the end of the elongated table, “we’re curious.”

You glare at her, “Shut it, C/N.”

“Y/N!,” your mother exclaims, “Don’t be rude.”

You could only pout in response while Bakugou clears his throat beside you, and you find yourself anticipating his response despite the circumstances.

“Well, she’s the most caring person I know,” he eyes you, and you can’t help but look away, feeling bashful under his gaze. “And is incredibly sharp, and she makes me feel understood and appreciated.”

Squeals and cheers erupt from the table, and you laugh in embarrassment at his words and everyone else’s reactions.

Bakugou pinches your thigh to catch your attention, “What?”

You snort, “You’re so cheesy.”

He smirks, “Says the one blushing.”

You don’t have the heart to tell him he’s sporting redness on his cheeks the same way he’s saying you are. You can’t help but grin in response.

The noise dies down upon hearing your father clear his throat, “Bakugou-san, what do you do for a living, again?”

You internally roll your eyes. On the outside, though, you look at Bakugou, who straightens his posture at your father’s questioning.

“I’m a Pro Hero, sir.”

Your father hums in acknowledgment, “You’re Pro Hero…Dynamight?”

“Yes, sir.”

Everyone’s silent as you watch the tense conversation unfold before you.

“You face a lot of danger in your line of work, then?”

Bakugou remains unwavering as he goes through the kind of questioning that would otherwise annoy him, “Yes, sir. But we’ve undergone extensive training and immersions to be able to handle them accordingly.”

This time, your father only grunts in reply, returning to his plate of Grilled Akita Beef Sirloin as if he hadn’t just interrogated a guy. In the corner of your eye, you see Bakugou deflate, from relief or disappointment, you can’t tell.

“Anyway, Bakugou-san,” your mother interjects in an attempt to salvage the conversation, “what’s it like having a job of a Pro Hero? Nobody in our family took that career path, you see.”

“Well, I—”

He barely gets two words out when All Might’s voice comes booming throughout the entire restaurant, and you see Bakugou lose his cool and scramble for his phone to turn it off. Everyone’s eyes are bugged out, probably reeling from the fact that the #2 Pro Hero has such a corny ringtone.

“Sorry,” he blurts out. You chance a peek at the caller ID, which reads ‘Deku’, and you look up to see the frustration in Bakugou’s eyes.

Despite yourself, a sense of worry settles in your stomach. Midoriya never calls Bakugou unless it’s something important, and he’d already been informed about Bakugou being MIA for tonight. Surely he’s not calling for nothing…

“Who was that?” Your mother asks.

Bakugou presses the lock button on his phone and pockets it. “Sorry—it was just a colleague,” he frowns, “I don’t know why they’re contacting me, I already filed a leave for today.”

“Well, if it’s nothing important, I guess we–”

The ringtone, once again, floods the entire room, but this time you urge him to take it as he tosses you and everyone else an apologetic look.

“Sorry. Please excuse me.”

With that, he stands up and heads towards the corner of the restaurant, leaving you with the rest of your family and friends in silence.

“He seems nice,” your cousin offers, and you shoot them a look of gratitude.

“Are you sure about him, Y/N?” your other cousin asks, and you can’t help but freeze upon hearing the question. “Dating a Pro Hero doesn’t seem like easy business.”

“I bet it isn’t,” your father adds gruffly.

You’re about to spit out the best defense in history when Bakugou rushes toward your side, although he doesn’t sit back down. You brace yourself for what’s about to come next.

“That was Pro Hero Deku—there’s been a sighting in the Chofu district of this high-profile villain we’ve been tracking down for weeks,” he fixes his gaze onto you, “And they need both top heroes on the field, ASAP.”

You spring onto your feet with no hesitation, “Okay, but be careful, Katsuki.”

He nods, “Of course.”

With that, he faces everyone else and bows, “I apologize for having to leave early. I hope you enjoy the rest of your meal.”

He doesn’t wait for their responses, attention now shifted back to you.

“Congratulations again, Y/N. I’m sorry.”

You shake your head, forcing a smile on your face in the hopes of easing his worries. He bends down to kiss your forehead, shooting you an apologetic look before excusing himself for the last time and heading for the exit.

You hold onto that congenial smile plastered across your face as your eyes trace his disappearing figure. Once he’s gone, you go back to your seat and will yourself to meet the eyes of those around you.

You see the all-too-familiar worried look on your mother’s face, while your cousins and friends have their eyes down on their plates. Your father, on the other hand, has the same withering look he’s been wearing around you and Bakugou the entire day.

“I bet it isn’t,” your father mutters under his breath, but you heard him clearly.

The third time it happens, it hits closer to home than you expect it to.

After a flurry of important firsts with Bakugou, as well as major life changes that have gotten you breaking down more often than you’d like to admit, your birthday finally rolls around.

As you’ve gotten older, birthdays have indubitably become more mundane. Nevertheless, you went ahead and took the day off of your new job as recruitment personnel in Mirko’s agency, not to celebrate it in crazy ways but in the hopes of spending the entirety of it at home with Bakugou.

Ever since you landed your first job, time spent with your boyfriend has become more and more negligible, with schedule conflicts and inflexibilities of work commitments barring you from seeing each other.

Today was no different.

You wake up to the scent of Bakugou and his citrus body soap, who, as per your request, spent the night prior in your apartment. When you reach out to his side of the bed, though, you’re met with cold emptiness, and your heart sinks in disappointment upon the realization that he’d left.

You at least wanted a good morning kiss for your birthday.

Half awake and reaching blindly for your phone, you bring it up to eye level and check your messages.

It’s only 9:07 AM and your inbox is already flooded with greetings, but none of them is Bakugou’s. Instead, the one text message from him reads:

Hey. Sorry I had to leave early, got some agency-wide meeting Shitty-hair and I are presiding today or something. See you when I get home.

Despite yourself, you deflate at his lack of acknowledgment of your birthday. You shake your head, feeling the ugly emotion of hurt creeping up your spine. Instead, you choose to focus on the fact that he just called your apartment home. Besides, he’s probably just busy right now, you think to yourself. He’ll remember later.

He didn’t remember.

At least, as of 11:45 PM, he hasn’t.

You were still optimistic about things when the day started, going around the house—cleaning to soothe your racing mind, as well as opening the gifts your friends and family had sent to your apartment. By the time lunch rolled around, you had food delivered from your favorite restaurant, which you happily devoured while rewatching a comfort film.

Now and then, you’d thumb at your phone to check if Bakugou’s messaged you a greeting or an update, only to be met with messages and notifications that were the least of your concern.

You lost count of how many times you’ve sighed in discontent, restless for the moment he comes home and proves to you that he absolutely, positively, certainly, hasn’t forgotten.

But before you know it, it’s already 11:45 PM and he still hasn’t walked through your doorway—the last you’ve heard of him being the one text message he left you this morning.

You’re staring blankly at the dinner you’ve prepared for the two of you, devoid of any more expectations, when the door finally clicks open at 11:47 PM and he stumbles in, decked out in his hero costume and visibly exhausted.

“Oh, you’re still awake.”

He seems stunned to see you.

“Patrol went overtime,” he curtly explains as he toes off his boots, “I’m fucking beat.”

You only stare at him from your position on the couch, eyes following his figure as he marches towards the bedroom, possibly to wash off the day’s dirt and grime, barely sparing you a second glance.

“Hey, babe,” Bakugou calls out from the bedroom, who, from the sounds and smell of it, has already come out of the shower.

You hear a rustling noise, “What’s with all these fuckin’ wrappers? Is it your birthday or some shi–”

He falls silent as realization dawns on him, and you shut your eyes in dreadful anticipation. Earlier, when you were still fired up with the day’s anger, you thought you could handle this confrontation (if he ever realized what day it was), but you might’ve overestimated yourself.

Because now, you’re on the couch, hugging your knees and feeling completely pathetic as you hear his footsteps get closer and louder.

Suddenly, your face to face with Bakugou Katsuki, who’s kneeling to peer at you.

And he looks absolutely guilty.

“Y/N, I am so sorry—”

You shake your head. That shuts him up.

“I’m not in the mood for apologies, Katsuki,” you start, “I’m—I’m not mad at you for not having prepared or set aside anything.”

Swallowing the ball in your throat, you press on, “I know you have a lot on your plate right now, and I understand.”

He eagerly nods. You sniff to help hold back the tears that are threatening to spill out, and Bakugou’s hand shoots up to cradle your face in response.

You let him.

“I’m just…” you look down, unable to meet his eye, “disappointed, Katsuki.”

You will yourself to look at him again, “I figured you’d at least remember what today was.”

“Fuck,” he warbles, and now you’re both crying, “I’m sorry, princess. I…”

He trails off, and some twisted part of you is thankful for it. You already know what was going to come out of his mouth—either their staff was a pain in the ass today and he had to step in, or a villain came around to stir shit up, resulting in overtime and him not having the time or energy for anything else.

This way, he could spare both of you the excuses that have seemed to etch themselves onto the tapestry that is your relationship.

“Let me make it up to you,” he says instead.

You don’t know how he plans to do that, but at this point, you’re too tired and hurt to ask or fight back. You gingerly nod your head in agreement.

And with that, he lifts you and carries you into the bedroom, all the while trailing soft, almost hesitant, kisses at the expanse of your neck.

He lays you down gently on the bed, and he climbs on top of you, hovering, until he has his forearms at both sides of your head.

You find yourself melting under the intensity of his loving, albeit guilty gaze.

“Happy birthday, Y/N,” Bakugou whispers, before diving in for a scalding kiss.

And make it up to you, he did.

The day after your birthday, he files for a leave in his agency, as well as cashes in Mirko’s favor from when he saved her ass in a past mission together, successfully giving you an extra paid leave for the day.

He ends up taking you out to a fancy soba restaurant recommended by Todoroki, and to an exhibit you’ve been wanting to see for the longest time, but haven’t gotten around to due to the ungodly wait (thanks to his Pro Hero card, though, you were able to get special passes).

And, it was at the end of that art exhibit when Bakugou pulls you into a private room and tells you he loves you for the first time.

Needless to say, you were over the moon.

But as a great author once said, one can’t undo the pain one caused. One can only atone for it.

Despite yourself, a seed of unease takes shelter and grows inside of you.

The fourth time it happens, it finally escalates into a full-blown fight.

It was a Saturday night, and you were enjoying a nice, stay-in dinner with Bakugou in his penthouse. By some miracle, he was able to take the night off despite the busyness that came with December and the looming holiday season.

“Stop staring at me,” he had said while expertly chopping the assortment of vegetables you bought fresh from the market earlier that day.

You grinned at him, “Not my fault you look sexy when you’re cooking.”

“Shut up, dumbass,” he retorted, but there was no bite to it. If you knew any better, you’d say he was blushing. “Now come help me with this.”

And that, you did. More like fumbled around his luxurious kitchen while he took the lead, but you tried your best. Which brings you to now: you, seated across from Bakugou at his corner coffee table, overlooking the city skyline.

“Eat,” he commands.

You happily indulge him.

Scooping a spoonful of the imoni stew he graciously prepared for you, you bring it to your mouth, all the while not breaking eye contact.

“Mmmm!” you exclaim the second the flavors explode in your mouth, “this is so good!”

He only smirks in response, but you can tell he’s pleased with himself with the way his chest puffs up with pride, “Don’t talk with your mouth full, idiot.”

You giggle at how his words juxtapose the way his tone sounds so smitten. Hastily chewing the cabbage, you regard him after you swallow, “Right, you said you wanted to tell me something?”

At that, he visibly stiffens, and your stomach drops, feeling a shot of dread replace the elation that’s been coursing through your blood ever since the night began.

“Yeah,” he starts, “I’ve been thinking…”

“Yes?” you mentally slap yourself at how nervous you sounded.

He looks you dead in the eye, “And I think it’s about time we move in together.”

You can’t believe your ears.

That’s not what you were expecting him to say.

“What?”

“You heard me,” he places his utensils back on the table, “Think about it, we’ve been dating for almost a year now, and my place is closer to the agency and Mirko’s.”

He shrugs, “And we rarely see each other these days. I figured we can solve that by having you move in with me.”

You try to laugh, but it comes out stilted, “Don’t get me wrong—I’d love to move in with you, Katsuki.” At that, he deflates in what you think is relief.

“But I have to ask—what prompted this? We’ve never talked about living together before.”

He looks down at his clenched fists on the table, and you can’t help how your body tenses in anticipation of the worst.

“This has nothing to do with asking you to move in with me,” he starts, “but there’s another thing I have to tell you.”

Your voice comes out meek when you reply, “What is it?”

“I got chosen to go on a very important solo mission.”

What’s the caveat? your mind immediately conjures the thought. Instead, you say, “Really? That’s awesome, Kats. Congratulations!”

He flashes you a grim smile, “Thanks.”

You force yourself to smile back, chuckling, “But?”

At your utterance of the three-letter word, he sighs, smile now erased from his face, “It’s overseas. Estimated to take about two months.”

You stay silent, just staring at him. He takes this as a sign to drop the last bomb.

“It starts next week.”

At that, you spring onto your feet, “Seriously? Do you even know what you’re gonna miss?”

He follows suit, “Of course! Shit—I’m not a fucking idiot,” he looks to the side in frustration, “I know, and I’m sorry, but this isn’t something I can just pass up.”

The snarky rebut of ‘It actually is’ dies in your throat when the fact of how much being the best matters to Bakugou crosses your mind.

“...But you promised me you’d spend the holidays with my family.” Your tone is quiet now, in stark contrast to earlier. You don’t even get started on the two-month absence.

He huffs, “I know. But I—”

“I’m sorry Katsuki,” you look down in shame, unwilling to look him in the eye, “and I know this is unfair of me, but I just can’t help but feel like you’re choosing your career over me.”

“But this mission could possibly make me number one,” he pleads, “Over shitty Deku, Y/N.”

You can practically hear the pain in his voice when he murmurs the next few words: “Number one.”

You shake your head in resignation—you know where this is going. You’ve gone through the motions of these arguments a hundred times before.

You’re fighting a losing battle.

“I know.”

At your quiet affirmation of his reasoning, Bakugou circles the table and wraps his arms around you, albeit cautiously. Tightening his hold on you, he whispers a soft thank you, and you feel your heart clenching in pain at how awkward and distant he feels despite being so close to you.

You have the urge to ask him if he only asked you to move in with him to soften the blow of what he was going to say next, but you hold your tongue. The last thing you want is for you to go on your separate ways for two months while in the middle of a fight.

You did end up going back to your hometown for the holidays, although with one less companion. Having to answer your family about Bakugou’s whereabouts was a huge pain, with you eventually resorting to terse responses the more times the question got reiterated.

Your family got so involved in the state of your relationship, with your father dropping I told you so’s ever so often that you finally decided you’ve had enough on the night of Christmas, and resolved to leave for Tokyō the next day.

You were planning to just spend the rest of the holidays in your apartment (you never got around to moving into Katsuki’s home), and wallow in your sadness over your relationship, but fortunately (or unfortunately), you ended up going out of your unit to spend New Year’s at Mina’s instead.

You note the profound role her persistence has played in your life.

Fast forward to now, with you having stepped out of the crowded party in her living room and onto the balcony, grateful for the cool, night breeze.

You hear the sliding door creak open behind you, and you don’t need to look over your shoulder to see who it is.

Footsteps pitter-patter against the floor until you find Mina standing there at your right, uncharacteristically quiet.

You don’t want to hear any comforting words about Bakugou’s absence, so you speak ahead, “Thanks, Mina.”

Her head whips to look at you, and she smiles warmly, “For what?”

“For inviting me to celebrate here,” you will yourself to smile back, “I think I needed this.”

She wraps an arm around your shoulders and squeezes you, “Of course. I—uh,”

She pauses, and you look over at her expectantly, “You what?”

She slowly lets you go and fully turns towards you, the ledge supporting her body weight as she leans into it. A serious expression now adorns her face.

“Just that…I’m not the one you should be thanking.”

You mirror her stance, facing her and narrowing your eyes, “What do you mean?”

She sighs, “Don’t tell him, but Bakugou’s actually the one who told me to check in on you.”

You take a step back from her in surprise (or hurt, you’re not sure—the emotions you’ve been feeling these days have been nothing but complex), but Mina’s quick to step forward and grab your hands, holding it in hers.

“He sounded really sorry about having to leave you alone for the holidays, you know.”

You feel the pinprick of tears at Mina’s words, bringing you to look down at your feet as a means of hiding your sadness from your best friend, even if you know that barely conceals how you’re feeling.

“Come here,” she ushers you in for a gentle embrace.

And you do.

You both stand there for what feels like an eternity, with her rubbing small circles on your back and you crying silently on her shoulder.

“He really loves you, you know,” she whispers, after a long pause, “Eiji and I have talked about it with the rest of our friends—we all agree how it’s practically clear as day.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, and allow yourself to bask in the gravity of Mina’s words.

“I know.”

The fifth time it happens, you astound yourself with your lack of resistance.

While Bakugou was out in the US for his solo mission, you decided it was the perfect time to put in the extra effort in your own work.

Whether it was to make something of yourself or to distract yourself from the loneliness that came with Bakugou’s absence, it didn’t matter. The bottom line was you finally had something to work towards, and it felt good.

You’ve been eyeing this promotion to be the Recruitment Lead in Mirko’s hero agency for over three months now, with the deliberation process taking longer than you’d like, only for it to end with you falling short of the other candidate.

You clench your fists at the thought of having received the news earlier that day.

Insecure and dismayed, you’ve been waiting for Bakugou to come home so you can tell him about it. It’s gonna have to be a long story, seeing as you haven’t even gotten around to telling him about wanting the promotion in the first place. In anticipation of the conversation, you stocked up on his favorite snacks and drinks.

Finally, at 8:54 PM, you hear the lock open with a click.

You rush to the entryway of your now-shared home, and flash him an inviting smile, “Welcome home.”

He’s in his regular clothes, having stripped himself of the grime and dirt back in the agency. Good, you think to yourself, you’ll have more time with him like this.

You’re about to ask him if he’s eaten dinner and if he can spend the night talking when he practically, and unceremoniously, collapses on top of you.

You’re agile enough with your arms shooting up to help carry his body weight, clutching his waist and arm to keep you both steady.

“Katsuki?” you squeak.

He only burrows his nose in your neck and huffs, “I’m fuckin’ exhausted. Let’s go to bed, please?”

You can’t help but ache at the sight and sound of you Katsuki beaten to exhaustion like this. So, like the good partner that you are, you nod in affirmation and assist him as you walk to the bedroom, and help him out of his clothes until he’s left in nothing but his boxers.

Now lying on the bed and under the covers, he holds his arm out open for you.

His voice is low and rough: “C’mere.”

And you do.

You climb into bed next to him, settling into his side as a muscled arm drapes across your waist.

You look up at his face, and a part of you hopes his eyes are still open and twinkling with invitation.

For conversation. For intimacy.

For anything.

But you’re only met with the peaceful, sleeping face of your lover.

That was the fifth time it happened.

And the last.

“Is there any reason you dragged me out of my pajamas to come here at–,” he checks his phone, “8:14 PM?”

You ignore Bakugou’s incredulous question, choosing instead to look around the view of the park from the bench where you’re both seated.

You glance at him, all in his bedhead and glasses-wearing glory. He had a long day, as per usual, having arrived home thirty minutes after 7 PM, but you had to have this conversation sooner than later.

“You seriously don’t remember this place?”

“‘Course I do,” he says in a heartbeat. “This is where I took you out on your best first fucking date ever.”

You snort, “That was yours.”

He sits up and scowls at you, offended, “Fuck that shit. That was both of ours.”

You laugh, unable to tease him any longer, “It was. You even flexed your hero skills to me and all.”

He slinks back into the bench, huffing as he crosses his arms over his chest, “Damn straight.”

You roll your eyes, “Show off.”

He snickers, “Simp.”

You shake your head, trying to fight off the grin that’s spreading across your face. Now was not the time for flirty banter. Not with what you’re about to tell him…

“But really, though,” Bakugou pipes up after a few minutes of silence, “what’s up?”

You can tell he’s trying to sound more playful than he usually does. Still, there’s an air of tense anticipation surrounding the both of you, and it’s been there since you asked two weeks ago if he could clear out tonight’s schedule, as you had something important to say.

Here goes nothing.

You exhale, albeit quite shakily, and close your eyes.

“I can’t do this anymore, Katsuki. I’m sorry.”

Your eyes flutter open to see him holding his breath, visibly on guard.

Bakugou’s smart. You’re sure he knows what you’re talking about, if not because of his intelligence but of the way he gulps nervously, no matter how imperceptible that was.

But he still retorts with, “You can’t do what anymore?”

You gesture vaguely at the distance between the two of you. That’s only been growing in the past few months.

“This. Us.”

You heave in a deep, shaky breath, refusing to look at him. He takes your hand into his.

“I can’t bear it anymore. Forcing you to choose between your hero work and me.”

You chance a glance at your Katsuki, and he’s staring at you, eyes brimming with tears and with such intensity that knocks your breath away.

Still, you march on. You have to get this out of your system before you chicken out.

“It hurts me to make you choose. Especially knowing how much you love what you do and how much you’re needed by other people.”

You try to swallow the lump in your throat, but you still end up choking, “But I need you, too, Kats.”

“And, I can’t keep on getting disappointed and hurt like this every time I don’t get chosen.”

At that, you finally let the tears you’ve been holding onto fall down your cheeks, “It’s all too much.”

A part of you still hoped he’d hop onto his feet in protest and beg for you to stay with him and proclaim how he’ll try harder, despite knowing, more or less, that no objections will pour out of his mouth.

True enough, Bakugou remains silent, like the tears that quietly drip down onto his clenched fists.

Because deep down, he knew.

He knew, from the very beginning.

Before he even decided to keep your number. Before he plucked up the courage to send you that first text. Before he sucked it up and asked you out on that first date.

He knew—that no matter how much he tried, he just couldn’t meet you halfway.

tagging. @katsukis1wife

extra credits. katsuki's first date line (tweet). quote about atonement.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou imagines #bnha imagines #mha imagines #bnha scenarios #mha scenarios #mha x reader #bnha x reader #bakugou x you #bakugou imagine #bakugou fluff #bakugou angst #bakugo x reader #HSJAHSJAHSAJ i hope yall like this T____T #i wrote this in two days and significantly hurt myself in the process #i love and hate angst

464 notes · View notes

redleavesinthewind · 4 months

Text

elliot's 2023 fic wrap up

2022 version

alright friends it is once again time for me to review the (many) fics i read in the previous year and try to write a more or less concise rec list of my absolute faves (i wish i didn't have to chose but heh i'm not gonna subject anyone to 332 fics in 1 post - also wait only 332 fics? that's like. over 100 less than last year, what the fuck. anyway)

okay now first the part that interests no one but me (yes you may skip this) and that's the numbers part! i'm not making a whole elaborate spreadsheet to then not throw around cool numbers. anyway.

i've read around 4,932k words in 332 fics across 18 fandoms. that is much less than last year, and yeah, i've been generally less productive in 2023 but we don't have to talk about it. at least i have more variety of fandoms this time (let's ignore that it's only 2 more and also that from fandom 13 on there's only 1 fic per fandom)

i started out the year strong with 847k words across 72 fic in february (followed by 753k across 42 fics in january, and 621k words across 63 fics in march). it goes downhill for the rest of the year. eh it wasn't my year so what! 2024 is gonna be more filled with fic reading again!!!

my top 3 fandoms are so entirely unsurprising to me i am almost disappointed in myself. when did i become so predictable. top fandom is young royals with 166 fics! congratulations young royals, you are a very persistent hyperfixation, you didn't peter out after 2 months like i expected. Spot number 2 is taken by avatar the last airbender with 41 fics! giant leap there, but it's also funny because i fell into an atla rabbit hole late 2023 (as i do every few years) and it still got up to 41 fics despite uni not allowing me to read last semester (uni is evil). Same as last year, spn takes third place with 38 fics. speaking of persistent hyperfixations.......... *big sigh*

and that is it the boring part is over let's go to the fun section LET'S REC SOME FIIIIIICCCCSSSSSSS (under the cut)

JANUARY

bet you you'll ... (noraverse) (series) by @gh0sthugs | young royals, wilmon | teen&up | 52k words

a kid fic!! and such a sweet one too! i'm kinda weak for kid fics ngl, and nora is so sweet and wonderful, and the relationship that slowly forms between wille and simon is beautiful and comfortable. this whole series is just such a good time

spreadsheet notes: ah to fall in love with the dilf next door who also happens to be the ex crown prince of the country

A Royal Intervention by AnxiousAnaconda | young royals, wilmon | teen&up | 18k words

erik is being such a dumbass in this one. like, he means well, but he's kinda messing up and pissing people off (understandably). it's nice to get a view on erik that's not portraying him as this perfect guy though, and the fic is actually so much fun to read. and hey, the prime minister of luxembourg gets mentioned, which i was kinda waiting for in yr fic ngl

spreadsheet notes: big sigh... erik you fucking idiot. stop listening to august. also shoutout to xavier bettel apparently (edit: this aged poorly, fuck xavier bettel)

and each slow dusk by @if-fortunate | young royals, wilmon | mature | 49k words

okay. ooookay how do i even begin with this one. ohhh boy. okay. so. world war three. wille gets stuck in bjärstad with simon, many many things happen, it's about finding hope in a horrible situation and trying to live life despite everything falling apart around you. it's incredibly well written and something about it just has me in awe

spreadsheet notes: i don't know what it says about me that this is without a shadow of a doubt the best fic i have ever read in my life

Put Me Back Together and Take My Heart by @notalotgoingonatthisinstant | young royals, wilmon | mature | 50k words

i once again don't know what to say, this one is sooo good. simon is suffering and both wille and i hate it, but... but wille is there for him and ugh, they just... they just can't be apart. a story of reconciliation and healing from both physical and invisible wounds, and of making the right decisions for yourself

spreadsheet notes: ugh. UGH. my guys. MY GUYS. yeah let's go blackmail the queen

Department Six by @thisdiscontentedwinter | teen wolf | gen | 4k words

a fun short one about stiles and danny working for the fbi and being delightfully weird and mysterious

spreadsheet notes: HILARIOUS i'm in love with outsider pov always

FEBRUARY

There Are No Wolves in California by @thisdiscontentedwinter | teen wolf, sterek | gen | 5k words

you know, sometimes you see a fic you know is going to hurt you, and you've never clicked on anything faster. this is definitely one of those fics

spreadsheet notes: let's be wolves today yeah well derek what if i just break down and cry instead

you got my body, i got your body by @prince-simon | young royals, wilmon | explicit | 9k words

this one's technically part of a bigger series (which, definitely read that one too), but i'm highlighting this one cause... damn... this made me feel things... like, gender things... which is really weird cause wille's gender in this is very much different from mine BUT STILL

spreadsheet notes: how almost 9k of pwp gave me so many gender feelings i will never understand

Changing Channels: Queer Premiere by @emeraldcas, @fellshish | spn, deancas | gen | 27k words

this might actually be one of the funniest fics i've ever read. dean and cas are so stupid (affectionately) and all the crossovers are delightful (bonus that i knew all the other shows). everyone go read this it's gonna be the best time

spreadsheet notes: mel and fells have genuinely outdone themselves this is the most hilarious shit i've ever read

Catalyst by @stretchoutfics | young royals | teen&up | 3k words

a backstory for boris! this fic is within a series of other side character ficlets, but this one has a soft spot in my heart

spreadsheet notes: AAAAHHHH HE KNEW ABOUT THE RECKLESS DRIVING BUT DIDN'T BRING IT UP but also... him being a gay man trying to help the queer crown prince navigate his sexuality that's kinda nice actually, like boris understands at least a bit

The most beautiful boy by lovelysarcastic | young royals, wilmon | teen&up | 88k words

there's something incredibly grounding about this fic. the way it develops, the way wille rationalises his thought processes, the way the relationship between wille and simon develops... this fic just kinda sucked me in and spit me out again feeling... content and calm and... it's just... this fic is so beautiful

spreadsheet notes: dude i love this so much??? they're both so stupid??? i love them???

MARCH

All's Fair in Love and Hunting by @badjoices | spn, deancas | mature | 20k words

they're playing gay chicken but also are being incredibly competitive and stupid about it, and i'm just sorry about the shit sam has to witness. so many shenanigans in this fic

spreadsheet notes: they are both so stupid omg

["mi cotufita" started sharing their screen] by @omar-rudeberg | young royals, wilmon | explicit | 60k

so... this is a follow up to one of my favourite fics and it is a delight. very horny but also very sweet? and also for some reason there's porn. fun times! oh, and this fic made me cry. it really has the range

spreadsheet notes: how are they so horny it's so funnyyyyyy, but also if i were wille i could never look linda in the eyes again

A Light To Guide You In The Dark (Warmed By The Fire's Glow) by 80shairmetal | stranger things, harringrove | teen&up | 19k words

this is just... people taking care of each other out of the kindness of their hearts. finding comfort in strangers who become family. growing and helping each other. there's such a beauty to this one

spreadsheet notes: this is just..... comfort

did you see the love in my eyes, oh were you gazing through this disguise? by @tooindecisivetopickaurl | young royals, wilmon | mature | 67k words

fake dating my beloved. they're so in love with each other but they're pretending not to be while pretending... to be? i'm obsessed with them. but they're so respectful with each other and cautious of boundaries and they really are best friends who also happen to be obliviously in love

spreadsheet notes: love a good fake dating au they're so stupid i love them

flash like a setting sun by @playedwright | 911, buddie | explicit | 22k words

because you only realise you're in love with your best friend when you're scared you're losing him. that's the fic. and it's beautiful

spreadsheet notes: oh this is sooooo beautifully written and ugh just <333

Other people's secrets by @sflow-er | young royals, walty & wilmon | mature | 239k words

yooooo hello? so first off this is an outsider pov on wilmon which i am always obsessed with anyways but the focus isn't just on them, this is henry's story. it's a beautiful story about how friendships form and warp and change, how feelings manifest in different ways, how decisions and actions have consequences. it's an incredibly mature take on post-s1, and it's probably my favourite of the year. also ace representation!!!!

spreadsheet notes: ace henry my beloved <33 also love seeing wilmon from an outside perspective! such a good, well thought out fic with lots of healthy comminication <33

APRIL

if i stare too long by @brawlite & @toast-ranger-to-a-stranger | stranger things, harringroveson | explicit | 191k words

i haven't seen st s4 (and probably won't watch it) but that definitely won't stop me from reading harringroveson fic. i mean, who wouldn't look at those three and immediately want to see them together. the way their dynamic is written in this fic is peak, i don't even know what more to say. i also very much trust these authors with billy, and again i wasn't disappointed. there's just something in his head that's intriguing.

spreadsheet notes: this whole fic is such a vibe it makes me feel of hot summer chillin

MAY

Rewrite the Stars (series) by @in-amor-veritas | young royals, wilmon | mature | 137k words

definitely one of the highlights of the year, simon's whole life in new york... those scenes, they just show such a wonderful life simon has built for himself, and his relationship with wille doesn't change it, but he manages to fit in (after, you know, fun rom-com drama shenanigans). also. this is a kid fic. kid fics are my weak spot. rasmus is my new favourite little guy. also shoutout to luis best side character ever

spreadsheet notes: YELLING i love this fic sooo much it is everything

Where The Wind Will Carry Me by @1-life-to-give | young royals, wilmon | teen&up | 49k words

AND THEY WERE ACTORS PLAYING LOVE INTERESTS. do i have to say more? the tension guys the TENSION. also erik's side-plot i'm in love

spreadsheet notes: hopping up and down like a hyperactive chihuahua EN I LOVE THIS

Your love is my turning page (the t4t wilmon as girldads au) (series) by @willesworld | young royals, wilmon | teen&up | 17k words

i know i know another kid fic BUT!!!! t4t wilmon. makes it automatically superior. i'm not even kidding, add trans characters and i will like your fic (that i probably already like a lot) aroun 300000000 times more. but also this series comes for your feelings. it hits

spreadsheet notes: i am weak for t4t wilmon AND them having a biological child there's something so beautiful about it like that could be meeee ; siiimon i need to hug him and i need to hug wille they're gonna get out of this i prommy ; recovery and one step forwards a hundred steps back, but they made it there in the end ; they were so happy :((((

JUNE

A trace of dew by nuncflore | elden ring, this is too complicated | gen | 13k words

very elden ring-esque writing style, wonderful representation of whatever the hell is going on in the lore. hehehehehhe fucked up family ehhehehehe DIVORCE. my friends are so talented :))

spreadsheet notes: CAP I AM EATING YOU

Hanging from the Ceiling by @spicymiilk | spiderverse | teen&up | 6k words

for like. a week after i saw the new spiderverse movie i made miles 42 my entire life. that also meant reading this fic. and damn did this fic hit. i am still thinking about it

spreadsheet notes: i need more miles 42 content he is my favourite guy ever

The Darkest Little Paradise by @yourdemiurge | young royals, wilmon | explicit | 79k words

*holding you at gunpoint* read this fic. read it now, in this moment. you are not gonna regret it. believe me when i say you NEED this fic, you really do. doesn't even matter if you've seen yr or not. you're gonna thank me later

spreadsheet notes: THIS IS INSANE I CAN'T BREATHE MADY WHAT THE FUUUUUCK

JULY

Protected (series) by bastuba | young royals, wilmon | explicit | 69k words

hey do you ever read a fic and you just feel. so incredibly grounded because something about the characters feels grounded? like, they aren't grounded, but they still give off that vibe? idk how to explain this properly but that's this fic. also wille and simon cook together (i haven't read all parts of the series yet btw)

spreadsheet notes: incredibly grounded very mature how is wille like this ; i'd be like wille, always complaining about the heat ; they're soooooo. idiots. getting tattoos for each other ; i too would come out on a podcast about food ; SAFE SEX

AUGUST

The Season of Rebirth by @notalotgoingonatthisinstant | young royals, wilmon | mature | 30k words

part of a series, but i'm picking out this one specifically because it's soooo sweet!!! the title fits the fic so well, like yes it is the season of rebirth, but simon and wille's relationship is also rehashed in a very cool way, this fic is like one giant easter egg, i love it so much!

spreadsheet notes: wille taking the season of rebirth to recreate their early relationship, i am obsessed with him he's such a dumbass romantic

The Upgrade by @groenendaelfic | young royals, wilmon | explicit | 13k words

it's about the moment simon realises who wille is. that's why this fic is here. i mean of course also because it is very good, but mainly because of that moment

spreadsheet notes: the moment simon realised who wille is i am wheezing

Right Where You Left Me by @armandgender | spn, deancas | explicit | 94k words

if you're wondering why this fic is on my 2023 list instead of the 2022 list.... well that's because it took me almost a year to read the last chapter, and in terms of how my spreadsheet works, that makes it a fic i read in 2023. anyway. if you haven't read this fic yet, what are you even still doing here. click on that link right now. you want complex emotional situations? intricacies of ill-advised marriages? you wanna pick through abusive behaviour and encourage infidelity? well you're at the right place! also this has one of my favourite jack characterisations ever. it also made me go on multiple rants

spreadsheet notes: I FINALLY FINISHED IT AAAAHHHH I LOVE THIS FIC THE CABIN THE CATS JACK!!!!!

Alejito y Marimar (series) by th0ughts | red, white, and royal blue | teen&up | 18k words

OBSESSED WITH THIS DYNAMIC YOOOOOO. seriously the friendship between alex and martha is an expansion of the rwrb universe that is much needed, trust me

spreadsheet notes: the friendship i didn't know i needed in my life <333 ; they're just chillin!!!

SEPTEMBER

Change of Address (series) by hearmerory | avatar: the last airbender, zukka | mature | 134k words

okay. oooookay. strap in for this one, it is a lot. emotionally. like yes zuko is autistic, yes yes yeeees, i agree, also azula is treated like an actual person with actual mental issues, she deserves to be treated with care and this author definitely does that! this is the kind of series that makes me want to disappear in it, but it's also the kind of story i need breaks from, because it is so heavy (definitely check the tags for this one). zuko's relationship with sokka is written so thoughtfully and iroh is characterised incredibly and the author even included ursa in a way that didn't undermine everything that happened in the series before she appeared again. i can only recommend this one!

spreadsheet notes (there's lots of parts to the series, so this one is long): hhhh if i were ms jamieson i would have snapped after two days probably ; be nice katara!!!!! he's nervous ; i need to murder ozai ; and i need to murder zhao as well ; iroooohhhhh he should have just. taken the kids with him that first time he noticed something off ; yeah i think there was a reason why iroh never took zuko to the movies ; ozai needs to suffer ; i need to destroy ozai. violently and painfully ; iroh is the best uncle ever, zuko deserves all his kindness ; azula...... you don't have to fight for affection, it's not a competition..... they love you ; iroh should have taken her with him the first time around, she was like. 10, he could have just picked her up or sth ; ..... hakoda you idiot ; IROH BACKSTORY IROH BACKSTORY ; sokka and the plan that changed his life <3333 ; they are so soft with each other ; they all deserve all the therapy and support and yes sokka obviously you have adhd get with the program ; URSA??????? also i am living for sokka and azula's dynamic they are everything ; i don't. i don't understand her. i don't fucking understand her how could she not want her own children. how can she talk about them like that. like she knows them she doesn't know them she LEFT

Every night my teeth are falling out by @sulkybender | avatar: the last airbender, zukka | mature | 9k words

i was in need of some good zuko angst and oooohhh boy was i lucky to find this author. PEAK zuko angst. this fic in particular is very dear to me because it explores how mental illnesses would be handled in a world where there's practically no resources to help. i think we need that more

spreadsheet notes: yes well. how DO you deal with a schizophrenic fire lord in a fantasy world? (you stay with him and support him that is how)

OCTOBER

for years or for hours by @ghostinthelibrarywrites | the witcher, geralt/eskel/jaskier | explicit | 52k words

listennn i love myself some good polyamory fics, and this is the first fic i read for this ship and now i am OBSESSED with them. but this fic in particular.... the concept alone, like. what do you do when you thought the man you love was dead for 800 years, and then when he comes back you have another man you love. the answer is simple. polyamory. the two men you love also love each other. perfect coincidence.

spreadsheet notes: YO the concepts of witchers in modern times alone is sooo cool but adding in everything else? hello yes?

this is a love story by @achillestiel | supernatural, deancas | mature | 3k words

listen, i've never seen fleabag, but that's not the point. this is intriguing and funny, that's the point

spreadsheet notes: fucked up families and you want to fuck the priest hell yeah

The road not taken looks real good now by @stretchoutfics | young royals, wilmon | explicit | 90k words

it's not even the wilmon part i love about this fic (i very much enjoy it of course don't get me wrong) but wille and his kids. like, i don't want to spoil anything but like. wille's interactions with his kids are so important in this fic, and they're written so well. like, emilia is my favourite character in this, i kinda wish there was more with the kids honestly. this fic is definitely a highlight of the year, and to get back to wilmon, i do love how they're portrayed in this fic, how their dynamic plays out, and specifically how certain decisions do not depend on simon

spreadsheet notes: no but. the care put into this story. i can't--

NOVEMBER

Averno (series) by @sulkybender | avatar: the last airbender, zukka | mature | 12k words

a fascinating take on a fire lord zuko that was never part of the gaang

spreadsheet notes: HE JUST DESERVES KINDNESS but also he's a little fucked up WELL NO WONDER GIVE HIM KINDNESS ; i mean.... what makes a monster really ; well then let's get him out of his cell shall we (also hiiiii suki hello <3333)

Half Awake in Our Fake Empire by @hmslusitania | 9-1-1, buddie | teen&up | 34k words

another kid fic!!! but in a different fandom this time!!! seriously, giving buck a child fills so many of my life's needs it's ridiculous

spreadsheet notes: THEY'RE A FAMILY (thank you for giving that man a child)

a soldier (who carries a mighty sword) by @ghostinthelibrarywrites | the witcher, geralt/eskel/jaskier | explicit | 92k words

everything about this fic is wonderful!! the world(kaer morhen!!)building, the developing dynamic between geralt, jask, and eskel, ciri and yenn, the conflict, jask as a teacher!!!! aaahhhhh!

spreadsheet notes: they're my new favourite guyssss this whole fic is so cool, what they've done with kaer morhen <3333

Will We Last the Night by CSHfic & VSfic | avatar: the last airbender, zukka | teen&up | 143k words

this fic asks what if sokka had been stuck with zuko since the end of s1 and delivers a delightful answer. this is the adventures of zuko and sokka (and sometimes iroh) travelling through the earth kingdom. shenanigans ensue

spreadsheet notes: i am obsessed with this i'm just. i know it was only shortly but their life in ba sing se. obsessed

DECEMBER

Grudge Match by @catcas22 | elden ring | gen | 17k words

i'm not entirely sure how to explain this. it sure is an elden ring fic

spreadsheet notes: i don't even know what to say. this is ridiculous and brilliant and stupid and genius all at the same time. hell yeah suburban demigods

Lonely Digging by @toast-ranger-to-a-stranger | stranger things, harringrove | teen&up | 3k words

this is hilarious. go read it to unlock intense life-threatening flirting

spreadsheet notes: best way to flirt billy's doing everything right

***

(quick note: i’ve tried to find everyone’s tumblr handle, but i’m aware that not all the authors have tumblr/have it on their ao3, however if i somehow missed someone, i can go back and rectify that!)

if you’ve made it all the way down here i am giving you a kiss <3

#pigeon coos #fic reading shenanigans #fic rec #ALL THE LOVE TO FIC WRITERS YOU GUYS ARE DOING AMAZING!!!!

58 notes · View notes