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katiexpunk · 7 days

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Fuck Me, Fill Me

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!Reader | W/C: ~4K | Rating: 18+ Minors DNI

Summary: Accidents happen all the time — people fall, knives slip, condoms break. You spent years successfully avoiding one. Except things are different now, you're ready for more. Your husband Joel is more than happy to oblige.

Warnings: Joel has one mission in this one -- knock you the fuck up (if that's not your thing, kindly move on). Heavy on the breeding kink. No age gap is mentioned (make it your own). So much dirty talk. Fingering. Dry humping/grinding. Praise kink. Size kink. Unprotected P in V. Rough sex. Semi-public sex. Sex in front of a mirror. Multiple creampies. No use of Y/N, no use of daddy. TLOU au. Reader has no physical descriptions except hair (no type or color) long enough to hold on to. Let me know if I missed anything!

A/N: I have no excuses for this one except that I have Joel brain rot and baby fever. Shoutout to the Capital One Lounge at IAD for the idea. Written on a plane.

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Accidents happen all the time — people fall, knives slip, condoms break.

It’s inevitable, really. A known fact of life. Call it Murphy’s law, bad luck, or just plain stupidity…

You’ve spent the majority of your teens and 20s successfully avoiding an accident.

If it can happen, it will happen your superstitious aunt used to say, and you were a believer.

Lord knows you've had more than enough evidence in your life to back up her words. From the tummy ache after eating way too many cherries, to the conspicuous brown stain that ruined your pristine white blouse. A blister on your heel from shoes that were supposed to be 'broken in' but never quite were, and the painful crack in your skin that followed. Proof was everywhere, and you learned to expect the unexpected.

You hold tight to that belief, while Joel does the same to your hips, fucking you within an inch of your life in the airport lounge bathroom.

But how you both ended up in this position was no accident.

++++

It never seemed like the right time—you had so much more to explore, achieve, and experience. Becoming a mother would complicate everything; at least, that's what you convinced yourself. You were content to rely on that little orange pill each day, despite its own set of side effects, because it kept your options open.

You weren't sure you'd make a good mom anyway. Your own mother certainly wasn't a shining example, and you had no reason to think you'd be any different. You couldn't even keep a cactus alive—how could you possibly care for a child?

But something changed not long after you and Joel got married. Maybe it was maturity slowly finding its way in, like warm honey filling the spaces you once closed off. It softened you to the idea of chubby cheeks and tiny fingers, gentle coos, and quiet lullabies sung in the deep southern drawl that had become so familiar.

Initially, you weren't sure how Joel would take the news, but when you told him you'd reconsidered, his reaction was beyond anything you'd expected. He was over the moon, filled with an urgency you'd never seen in him before. It was like you'd handed him the key to his deepest desires, and he was eager, almost desperate, to turn it and bring new life into your world, yours and his.

He made it clear just how eager he was when he took you in his arms and twirled you around the kitchen in joy. Then, without missing a beat, he bent you over the counter, yanked down your jeans, and made his intentions unmistakably clear. He fucked his cum so deep inside of you that night that you felt the warm dribble of him the next morning.

++++

Good things come to those who wait.

The words seem almost lifeless as they peer back at you, the paper they're printed on showing signs of age and Scotch tape keeping it glued to the break room wall above the microwave. The optimism they once held has faded, leaving behind nothing but cynicism and wear.

Yeah. Right.

The shrill beep of the microwave snaps you back to the present, your shoulders tensing. You shake off your irritation, clutching the warm coffee that’s been reheated three times, its heat barely reaching the chill of your underlying pessimism. It’s a small comfort, but enough to soften the ache of disappointment that nags at you every month when hope fizzles out.

Back at your desk, you bury yourself in work, flipping through emails and juggling various applications. Headphones in, you’re almost lost in your own world when a notification on your phone pulls you back. It's your cycle tracking app, reminding you that you're due to ovulate in a couple of days. But wait—

No, no, no. You quickly count the days in your head, then scramble to open your work calendar. The schedule's a blur until your eyes land on the words "Work Trip: Jackson, Wyoming." They jump off the screen, almost mocking you. Looks like timing won't be on your side this month. Unless —

Would it be too ridiculous to change an entire work trip just so you could make love to your ridiculously hot husband, and let him fill you again and again? You think not, but you know your boss might say otherwise.

You spend the rest of your workday figuring out Plan B. The irony is not lost on you that you’re seeking out an entirely different kind than you used to.

++++

As you settle into the couch, your legs draped across his lap, he begins to massage the soles of your feet in that soothing way that sends a ripple of warmth up your spine. You can't help but glance at his side profile—the elegant slope of his nose, the chiseled cut of his jaw, and the effortless curls of his salt-and-pepper hair that rest at the nape of his neck. He's undeniably handsome, a sight that never gets old.

His touch spreads a slow heat across your skin, your stomach fluttering in response. It's always been this way—the world could be crumbling outside, but with Joel, in your shared cocoon, you feel entirely at ease, wrapped in safety and affection.

“You're really gorgeous, you know,” you murmur, almost too quietly to be heard. You swirl the wine in your glass and meet his gaze as you take a sip.

“Nah, that's you, sweetheart,” he replies with a wink, his touch transitioning to featherlight kitten caresses as his fingers trace a path up your shin. He's not trying to seduce you, not really, but his touch and the intent gaze he holds on you are enough to ignite a slow burn under your skin.

You relax into the cushions, your head sinking back into the pillow, reveling in this moment. When he pauses, even for a second, you squirm, and he chuckles softly. “Such a needy little thing, aren't cha?” he teases, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he resumes his gentle strokes. “Mhm, sure am,” you hum, your eyes closing as you melt into the sensation of his skin on yours.

He slowly journeys upward, callused palms gliding along the smooth skin of your thigh, alternating between soft strokes and firm squeezes. Each touch seems to awaken a deeper need within you, and you're all too aware of the growing bulge beneath your calves, a silent but potent reminder of the desire simmering between you. It's enough to make you ache for him, crave his closeness, the kind of closeness only he can provide.

You lift your head, and he's already adjusting, his broad frame looming over you. He locks eyes with you as he takes the wineglass from your hand, placing it on the coffee table with care, then shifts his full attention back to you. You push your hips upward, meeting his, and he presses down just enough to make it clear that he’s in control, his body holding you firmly but without discomfort. You know he’s got you right where he wants you.

Your eyes meet his, and the intensity in his gaze leaves no doubt—this is happening. He props himself up on one forearm, his other hand tangling through your hair, his knuckles brushing against your cheek with a tender touch. He thrusts his hips into you with more urgency, his lips descending to capture yours, drawing out a soft moan from deep within you.

“Fuck sweetheart, feel what you do to me?” he groans, pressing his lips harder against yours. He tastes the wine on you, and your tongues intertwine, each movement slow but deliberate. You work your arms free from your sides and slide your hands into his hair, tugging gently, your nails grazing his scalp. The deep groan that escapes him tells you he's feeling everything—the pull, the scrape, the heat. It rumbles from his chest, reverberating through you, and it's intoxicating.

With your lips pressed firmly to his, he captures your bottom lip between his teeth, giving it a teasing bite as he thrusts against you. The rough denim scrapes against your inner thighs, and he slots himself perfectly between your legs. His mouth leaves yours, tracing a path of soft kisses down your jawline, lingering at that sensitive spot just behind your ear before he pulls the lobe into his mouth. You moan, fingers tangled in his hair, while your other hand explores the broad expanse of his back, craving the feel of him, unable to get enough.

“Joel,” you whimper, his name almost a question on your lips.

He doesn't pause, thrusting with just the right pressure, almost ignoring your plea. You move your lips to his shoulder and whisper, “I’m ovulating.”

That makes him stop. He props himself up on one forearm, his free hand on your ribs, his intense gaze locking onto yours. His eyes darken, pupils eclipsing the rich brown you know so well, and he groans deeply. Fuck.

“Yeah, sweetheart? Mmm, big mistake telling me that, now I’m just going to pump you full of my cum all night, gonna fuck you again and again, keep you so full of me that it’ll have no choice but to stick this time.”

You whimper at the thought, and his words go straight to your already wet core, your pussy fluttering around nothing, practically begging to be filled.

You want him so bad, but right now, he wants you more — wants every part of you, wants to change you forever. His head dips back to your neck, and he's practically grinding into you, the pressure so intense it feels like he's already fucking you through your clothes. His beard rasps against your cheek, leaving a trail of red marks as he works his way down to your chest, hastily undoing buttons, uncovering your breasts, and teasing your nipples to hard, eager peaks.

It would almost be embarrassing how turned on you are right now if it were anyone but him, how easily he can fluster you, turn you into a babbling mess.

“Well, not right now, but I am next —” you start to say, but quickly lose your train of thought as his whole hand comes down to cup your sex and the feel of his palm pressing against your dripping center.

“Sorry darlin’, what was that?” He asks, doing little to hide the smug tone behind his voice, obviously pleased with the effect he has on you.

“I am next week, while I’m supposed to be in Jackson for work,” you manage to get out, the words coming out soft, a barely there thought, your attention mostly on the sensation of his thick finger that has now curled its way deep inside of you, your panties pushed to the side as they should never have been there in the first place, not with him in the room.

“Come with me,” you ask, your words a tad breathless as he adds another finger to your dripping center, your slick coating them completely, and when he doesn’t answer, you’re not sure he heard you behind the haze of his arousal, the blood thrumming through his veins. Not that you can blame him, it’s so hard to fucking think, to breathe, to string together a rational thought that isn’t dirty when you’re together like this.

“Gotta feel this pussy first,” he rasps, the words slightly muffled against the tenderness of your breast. His words sober you for a brief second, as you playfully push against him in protest.

"That's not what I meant, and you know it," you laugh, and he can't suppress the goofy grin spreading across his face. He loves this—the playful banter, the way you bring out his lighter side, the perfect blend of passion and humor that flows between you. It's always been like this, effortlessly flirty, endlessly fun. You’re the perfect combination of sexy and cute, and better yet, you’re all his.

“Alright baby, I’ll come with you, on one condition,” he says, adding a third finger, and the stench of him is intoxicatingly delicious, perfect, and intense in the best way. You already feel so fucked out, you’re not sure how he’s managing to find the will to set fucking conditions right now, but still, you humor him —

“Conditions, huh?” You moan as he continues to pump his fingers in and out of you, the pads of his fingers grazing at the soft spongey spot inside of you that makes you see stars.

“Yeah, sweetheart, conditions,” he says, nipping at your chin. “You’re gonna be the good girl I know you are and come all over my fingers, and then I’ll make sure that you’re full of me all week, whenever you want it baby, I’m all yours,” he rasps, his breath coming a bit more ragged now at the thought of your proposition and his.

His fingers are still deep inside of you, he positions his wrist just right and brings the pad of his thumb to your clit. Your slick, combined with his filthy fucking mouth, and his thick cock pressed against you, creates the perfect conditions for the inevitable. He’s never not made you come, and you sure as hell know he’s not about to change that narrative now.

If it can happen, it will happen.

“Come on pretty girl, show me how pretty you come on your husband’s fingers,” he says, not really asking, but rather ordering in the tone that lights every nerve in your body on fire with arousal.

The warmth in your lower belly spreads outward, wrapping you in a blanket of pleasure. Your limbs tingle, your vision blurs, and your toes curl as the intensity builds. For a split second, everything goes hazy, and you let go, surrendering to him completely. He takes control, guiding you through the waves of ecstasy, pulling you into a bliss that only he knows how to reach.

“So good for me, sweetheart. You are so perfect.”

He makes you come once more soon after and then fucks you deep and slow. It’s all whispered praises in your ear, a firm grip on your hips, and his cock barely leaving your cunt before he’s slamming back into you, desperate to keep the tip of him as close to your cervix as possible.

Come with me, you moan, and he knows exactly what you mean this time.

“Shit, baby, I can feel you squeezing me, taking me so good —” his words break with a moan as you come for the third time, falling apart on his cock, before he adds “gripping me so goddamn tight.”

His thrusts slow and he buries himself to the hilt inside of you, and paints your insides in thick ropes of cum, holding your gaze as he throbs inside, not daring to move and risk any of his spend coming out before he wants it to.

He plants a soft kiss on your lips and tells you that you’re going to look even more gorgeous with his baby inside of you.

++++

The delayed flight to Jackson was just another reminder of life's unpredictability.

What started as a simple 30-minute delay quickly turned into an hour, then two, and now you're both three hours past your original departure time.

You find yourselves in one of the newer airport lounges, sitting in overly posh chairs. It's surprisingly uncrowded given the chaos that usually comes with airport delays. Your luggage is safely tucked away in the lockers, your bellies are full from the free snacks, and the irritation from earlier is fading thanks to the complimentary drinks. The ambiance is unexpectedly chic. Even the bathrooms feel upscale—private, enormous mirrors, fancy soap, and paper towels so luxurious they might as well be hand towels.

Joel is deep into a well-worn Western novel, its cover frayed and spine cracked from countless readings. You're scrolling through an article about the best positions for conceiving, smirking when you realize you and Joel have tried most of them, and then some. Just as you're in the middle of your read, your cycle tracking app sends a notification—you're at peak fertility, starting now. Have fun! ;)

Shit.

Who knows when you'll actually make it to your hotel room in Jackson tonight? You glance up from your phone, stealing a look at Joel. He's always handsome, but there's something about him in his glasses—the way the frames sit on the bridge of his nose, the slight furrow in his brow as he focuses on the words in his book. It's endearing how he still reads with such intensity, even though you know he's revisited these same pages countless times.

Your pussy flutters and aches at the sight, giving you a cheeky idea. He did say you could have him whenever you wanted.

You clear your throat, hoping to pull Joel's focus from his book, but he doesn't seem to notice. You try again, this time a bit louder, and all you get is a distracted, "You okay, sweetheart?" without him even glancing up.

You know you’ll need to be more direct to capture his attention.

"I'm going to use the restroom," you say, and he nods, eyes still on the page. Once inside, you leave the door unlocked and hike up your dress, exposing your bare breasts. You pinch your nipples between your thumb and forefinger until they harden, then push out your chest, angling your smartphone for the perfect shot. The result is a provocative selfie that you know will make him put that book down.

You attach it to a message for Joel and quickly type out your request — come knock me up in the bathroom, Cowboy.

He’s joining you in the bathroom faster than you thought he would, careful to avoid any curious eyes or draw attention to the fact that he’s about to absolutely wreck his wife.

Once inside, he locks the door behind him and grabs your waist, guiding you back until your hips hit the counter's edge. His hands roam over your body, lifting the hem of your dress until it's bunched around your waist. He kisses you with a desperate hunger, as if he hasn't had you in years.

"You sure you want to do this here, sweetheart?" he groans against your lips, shifting between playful nips, gentle kisses on your cheeks, and heated sucks at your jawline. The anticipation in his touch is palpable, but he's still checking to make sure this is what you want.

“Never been more sure of anything in my life except for the day I married you. Please fuck me, Joel, need to feel you stretch me out” you say, your words crossed between a whimper and a plea.

God, just when he thought you couldn’t get any more perfect.

“Yeah? My girl wants me to fill up her tight little hole,” he teases, already knowing the answer. He moves his hand to your dripping core and lets out a deep groan when he discovers you’ve already removed the barrier of your underwear for him.

“Fuck baby, I’d do anything to taste you right now, wanna hear all those pretty noises you make and the way my name sounds when you moan it for me,” and you soften more under the heat of his words, letting your mind drift to thoughts of how good it feels when his head is between your legs, gently wringing orgasm after orgasm out of you like it’s his fucking job.

“Gotta make this one quick, though. Can you be quiet for me, sweetheart?” He asks, and all you can do is nod.

"Good girl—c'mere, turn around," he instructs, guiding you with his hands until you've spun around, your hips pressing into the sink. His hand travels down your spine, making you arch toward him slightly, and he bends you over even more. In the mirror, you see him behind you, his eyes locked on yours as he quickly unbuckles his belt and lowers his jeans to mid-thigh. The anticipation is electric as you watch him in the reflection, knowing exactly what's coming next.

He spits into his hand and jerks himself, all the while holding your gaze, admiring the way your breasts are pressed up against the counter, perky and perfect. His cock twitches at the thought of what they’ll look like all swollen and full of milk.

He lines himself up against your wet and waiting hole, holds your hips steady with one hand, and gathers your hair in his fist with the other. He gently tugs it so your chin is angled up, eyes even straighter looking into the mirror. He loves watching you take it.

“You’re gonna watch as I fuck you, sweetheart,” He rasps as he presses himself into you in one stroke. You’re so fucking wet, your greedy cunt accepts him easily, despite his size. Like it knows what it wants, and what it needs. There’s a dull delicious sting at the intrusion.

“Oh my god, Joel, you’re so bi—” You break off in a moan as he pulls out and then slams himself into you deep and hard.

“God damn, look at you, my perfect fucking girl. Taking me so well, like this cock was made for you, huh baby?” His voice is firm, but quiet, just above a whisper. He’s not wasting time, he sets a punishing pace, and all you can do is let him use you.

“Fuck me, fuck me, fill me, fill me” you cry out, and he brings his hand to cover your mouth.

“What’d I say about being quiet, baby?” He holds you like that. You slip your hand between your thighs and rub your clit, a dangerous combination when he’s fucking you in this position. You come so fast that you think it might be a record. The tightening of your cunt has him on the precipice of his release.

“You’re fucking mine,” he growls, fucking his cum into you over and over, using every drop of him to give you what you want.

It might not stick this time, hell, it might not stick next time, but one thing is for certain — Joel will keep you full and fucked either way.

Part 2

Reblog + Support Writers + Comment

A/N Continued: Thank you so much for reading! On a side note, my engagement here has been really low lately. :( As much as I'd love to say I don't care about the notes, I won't lie and tell you I don't need them for validation. If you like this, please consider leaving a comment or reblogging. I'll love you forever.

Tagging some moots for visibility (lmk if you want to be removed if the subject matter isn't your thing. No hard feelings!) @endlessthxxghts @syd-djarin @auteurdelabre @morning-star-joy@theoasisofthings @chulopascal @morallyinept @sweetercalypso @xdaddysprincessxx @burntheedges @punkshort @pedrostories @bastardmandennis @milly-louise @ghostwritesthings @josephquinnswhore @drunk-and-capable @survivingandenduring @hotgirlbedtimescenarios @ohheypedrito @joeldjarin @nerdieforpedro @amyispxnk @paleidiot @ghostwritesthings @kulekehe @darkheartgatita @goldenhxurs @javiscigarette @ro-nahime-things @gwendibleywrites @missladym1981 @morgaussy

#joel miller smut #joel miler x fem!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #breeding k1nk #joel miller the last of us #joel miller one shot #pedro pascal character #pedrohub #pedrostories #joel miller #joel miller fanfic

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charliemwrites · 3 months

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Government Asset Soap! This is half of the last part (the smut got too long and I wanted to post this dammit).

So consider this part 4.5? idk it's late.

Usual CW for this series with dubcon, mean Soap, post-trauma coping.

It’s probably a fire hazard, the candles. They’re sprinkled across your little cabin like fireflies, feeble but steady heartbeats of a home you’re failing to build. Too many of them, likely. Two, sometimes three, per room. Tiny tealights, smokeless soy, scented pine. It would be easier, safer, to just turn on the lamps you foolishly invested in.

You can’t bear anything brighter than golden halogen anymore, though. The glare drags you back to a tiny cell bisected by cruel metal, holding back an even crueler fate. No, you’d much rather wade through pools of shadow and firelight, fire code be damned.

It’s a small cabin, but you’ve already cluttered it up with furniture and rugs, a theme for each room. Yellow and blue for the kitchen. Purple and cream for the den. Green and brown for your bedroom. Nooks to hide in, spaces to squeeze into, big shapes to huddle behind. You’ll never be caught out in a cold, barren room ever again.

Your days are long regardless of the time of year. Get groceries in town every day, making a point to be friendly and seen so that someone might notice if you suddenly stop coming. Clean incessantly, so many surfaces to dust. Pick hobbies like daisies. Knitting and crocheting, different paint styles, felting. You’re contemplating carpentry, would like to build shelves for all the books stacked up in the den. Keep a dream journal by your bed that you neglect for weeks at a time.

You draw out the nights until you can count the hours until dawn on one hand. Stay up baking, making homemade ink, learning new ways to style your hair, anything, anything, anything—

It’s not the sleeping – or at least that’s not the worst of it. It’s the waking.

Laswell suggested a cat.

You told her to stop suggesting pussy to unstable people.

But it’s still not a bad idea. Another living thing to keep you accountable; the plants are pretty and time-consuming, but not good company.

You talk yourself out of it every time, knowing the worst-case scenario. It’s not catastrophizing if it actually happens, and you can feel an invisible time weighing on your shoulders like another gravity. Tick, tick, tick. Heavier, heavier, heavier. It’s hard to breathe beneath the wait.

The military doesn’t do apologies. It does platitudes at best. Well wishes and good intentions are painted in brushstrokes of blood. Victory flags are planted on bodies, living or otherwise. Laswell apologized. She swore that if there had been another way – any other way…

She didn’t promise to leave you alone. Didn’t assure you that you’d never see her or her goons again.

If you thought it would do any good, you’d tip one of the candles over and set it all aflame. Rebirth through fire. But you never did figure yourself for a phoenix. And besides, a phoenix is still itself, even when the ash falls away.

So, you spool out your time like picking at tapestry threads, one thin string at time.

Tonight, it’s bread. Cinnamon chocolate babka, to be specific. You were craving something sweet. Are debating the merits of some sort of cream cheese icing while you shower off the long, ever-busy day.

Have decided on an optimistic why not as you slip out to begin your overly complicated self-care routine. Moisturizers, hair oils, lotion. An unexpected benefit of overloading yourself, you suppose. Even when you first got out of the military, you didn’t take such good care of yourself. You have a jogging route now. You’re handling your trauma every possible way except therapy. (And sleeping.) Better than nothing, you figure.

The candles have gone out in your bedroom. You click your tongue in annoyance, trying to remember where you left the matches this time. Bedside table?

You pad across the soft carpet, using the edge of the bed as a guide in the pitch black. The only other problem with candles is that their humble light doesn’t reach very far. But you know this house and keep the floors tidy enough that you’re confident you won’t trip.

Make it to the nightstand without incident and pat around. Knock the side of your hand into the little carton and only just catch it before it hits the deck. Let out a little huff and start to fumble it open.

“Nice catch, bonnie.”

You gasp, but your voice doesn’t get any farther than the back of your tongue. The box slips from your numb fingers, matchsticks scattering across the floor. He tsks.

“Shame that. We’ll get ‘em later.”

You can’t move. Can barely breathe. You’re just frozen, heart thundering with a sudden storm of fear and confusion. Hands still aloft in front of you, spine rigid, knees locked.

You feel more than hear movement behind you, and then the warmth of his body seeping into your naked skin. Not quite touching. Not yet.

“Missed you, little bird,” he rasps in your ear.

You always thought that in a moment like this you would scream. Kick and elbow and fight, damn your certain loss. But when it comes down to it, survival drowns out all those stupid, haughty ideas about pride and dignity. So you don’t curse and shout like you always fancied you would.

You whisper, “Soap.”

He hums but it sounds like a growl in your panicked state. “Missed me too, aye? You’re already naked fer me.”

His hands are searing when they settle on your waist like they belong there. He pulls you back against him; in the dark he’s bigger, broader than you remember. At least, you think, he’s fully clothed for now.

“What are you… how are you here?” you ask.

He barks a laugh, mean and rough. “Was only a matter of time after that shite they pulled.”

You squeeze your eyes shut and see it recreated in the phosphenes behind your lids.

Soap buried balls deep inside of you, murmuring a constant stream of filth as he got harder and harder inside you. Filling you up as you twitched around him, oversensitive and teary, afraid of what would come next.

Then the lights flashed, flicked red. An alarm sounded, Laswell’s voice ordering Soap away from you. But he just snarled and hunched over you, hips snapping to bury himself right back inside while you cried out.

The locked door swung in, armed guards swarming in. Yanked Soap off you while you scrambled to cover yourself. Someone grabbing your arm none too gently to pull you from the room. Soap wild-eyed and snarling like something possessed, until he was overtaken by struggling guards and you were trembling naked in that damned hallway.

“Was mad at you, at first, cannae lie,” he says, almost conversational. Your eyes snap open, though you know it’ll do you no good. “But I’ve had time to think on it. Wasnae yer fault, was it? Saw them drag you out.”

An awful relief floods you. Fuck dignity, fuck honesty. This is Soap right behind you, completely unrestrained and unsupervised.

“Yeah,” you answer, voice small. “I didn’t know they would do that. What… um. What happened to you?”

He presses his face into your damp hair, pressing closer, snaking his arms to squeeze you against him.

“Sent me off on some shite mission,” he explains, “probably hoped I’d die out there. You smell so good, lass.”

You shiver as his breath ghosts over the sensitive skin of your neck. Hot, humid.

“And… and then what?” you insist, trying to stall.

You’re not sure what you’re stalling for. There will be no miraculous saves here – not that you really got any last time. It’s not like there’s any real plan to be made here, either. None that you’d be confident enough to risk his wrath on.

“Disappeared. Took care of business. Came to get my pretty little bird.”

A rough hand trails over the curve of your hip, brush the neat curls of your mound. You suck in a breath, hands twitching with the urge to stop him but not sure of putting up resistance when you’re still unsure of his mental state.

“And what about you, hm?” he rumbles. “Been a good girl while I’ve been away?”

His fingers dart down towards your entrance, not nearly prepared for anything. Least of all his thick digits.

“Y-yes!” you yelp, grabbing at his wrist. Relief makes you dizzy when you manage to stop him. “I-I’ve been good. Which means I’m not… I can’t just take you. I need… I need prep.”

He huffs, nips at the tender spot beneath your ear. The thrill that shoots through your stomach is terrifying.

“That’s what these are for, bonnie.”

And to your horror, he starts to push past your resistance like your staying hands aren’t there at all.

“John!”

He freezes. You shudder air into your burning lungs, feeling dizzy on panic.

You can get through this without pain, just think.

“I haven’t even got to see you,” you stutter, voice shaky. Can’t quite inject the disappointment you’re trying for, but hopefully it’ll work. “And I bet you’re all dirty from travel.”

He grumbles. “So what?”

You scramble to think of a satisfactory response. “S-so let’s get reacquainted in the shower, yeah? That way I can see your handsome face, at least.”

He chuckles, grazes his teeth “playfully” across your cheek. “Bossy thing.”

“You like it.”

And to your shock, he agrees with an amused huff. Hauls you up in his arms and walks you back to the still muggy bathroom. You’re set on your feet and spun around, chin jerked up to receive a savage kiss. All tongue and teeth, no finesse. He’s just licking into your mouth, hungry and animalistic, spit dribbling down your chin.

When he finally pulls away, you blink spots from your vision. Finally focus on his smug features and make a soft, horrified noise when you register the splatter of crimson across them.

“Och, that? My little bird had watchers.”

Of course you did. The horror ebbs a bit. Resentment has made you indiscriminately bitter.

“Oh,” you say, “th-thank you. Definitely glad we’re showering first, then.”

“Squeamish?”

You’d like to know when the world turned upside down and John fucking “Soap” MacTavish began teasing you about the blood on his face.

“A bit,” you admit.

“Poor dear,” he coos. “Hard to believe we were made for each other sometimes, aye? Complementary, we are.”

Is that what he thinks? Christ.

You turn to start the shower again, spine prickling with the weight of his eyes on your back. The water rushes down and then he’s crowding you against the cold wall beneath the (thankfully) warm spray.

“Y-you’re still dressed!” you protest between sharp nips to your collarbone.

“Fix it, then,” he snarls.

You claw his shirt up his back, get momentarily distracted by the impressive display of muscle hidden beneath. Draw your palms over his chest and feel him shudder.

“Fuckin’ heavenly, love,” he purrs. “Missed this.”

A vague memory comes back to you, him gripping you close because he felt you naked against him for the first time. Him admitting he hasn’t had affectionate touch in a while.

This… this you could work with.

#cod #my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #dark fic #asset soap #asset john soap mactavish #dub con #non con #rape

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munson-blurbs · 9 months

Text

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!Reader Series

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14

Summary: Will's birthday party brings back some familiar faces and gives Eddie the perfect opportunity to make amends with Corroded Coffin, but an unexpected interruption might have him hurtling towards his old ways.

Warnings: some dirty talk (18+ only just in case), drinking/drunkenness (everyone is over 21), pregnancy and labor complications, mentions of past bullying

WC: 8.2k

Chapter 14/20

Divider credit to @saradika Special shoutout to @storiesbyrhi and @corroded-hellfire for helping with the fluffy sections and making this piece strong.

Afternoons at Hawkins Preschool are predictable: storytime on the carpet is followed by the kids’ pack-up routine, and once all belongings are shoved into their proper backpacks, they file out the door to go home.

Predictable is good. It’s safe. And it certainly doesn’t include a fire drill half an hour before dismissal.

Herding nine children through the bustling hallways and trying to ensure no one is left behind is overwhelming enough. Factor in the ear-splitting alarm and the surge of adrenaline pulsing through your students once they re-enter your classroom, and you’ve got the perfect recipe for chaos.

Instead of fighting a losing battle to keep the kids calm and quiet, you’d opted to plunk them down with myriad art supplies and called it a day.

Now, after the last student had been picked up, you and Will are left cleaning the mess they’d made. Broken crayons are scattered across the tabletops, there’s Play-Doh of various colors stuck to the floor, and gold glitter—when did you even acquire glitter?—dusts every surface.

“Seriously…who thought that that timing was a good idea?” Will grumbles, tossing a Crayola stub into the crayon basket. He adopts a nasal, mocking tone. “‘What would help out our teachers? Oh, I know—let’s interrupt their dismissal routines!’”

You laugh despite your own exhaustion. Somehow, you’ll have to muster up the energy to tutor Harris tonight.

Will reaches into the cupboard to grab his car keys, turning back around with a smile that he only offers you when he needs something. “Could I ask you for a little favor?”

There it is. “How little?” You cock one brow as you clip a stack of papers together.

“Eensy weensy. Miniscule. Microscopic–”

“The more you say it, the less I believe you.”

“Okay, okay,” Will acquiesces, twirling his keyring around his forefinger. “So, for my birthday thing on Saturday…a bunch of my childhood friends are gonna be there. Mike, Dustin, Suzie, Lucas, Max, Jane…” he lists them, ticking off each name on his fingers. “Anyway, I was hoping that maybe you could talk to Eddie about a Corroded Coffin reunion? I know they’re on a hiatus or whatever, but if anyone can convince him to play, it’s you.”

He’s not wrong; you’re the most likely person to get Eddie to do, well, anything. But asking him to make amends with Danny and Gareth and getting their band to play a gig three days from now seems like a mountainous task.

Will is staring at you, hands clasped together pleadingly. He’s too optimistic for his own good, and you can’t help but give in.

“Fine, I’ll try. But–hey, don’t get excited yet,” you warn when he pumps his fist in celebration. “‘Try’ is the key word here. I’m not making any promises.”

Your admonition goes unheeded as Will already considers it a victory. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” You give him a small, tight-lipped wave as he dashes out the door. You and Eddie were already planning to attend the party; you’d spent part of last night scouring an art store for the perfect gift. And he and Jeff were back to being thick as thieves…maybe this could work.

“All right, Mr. Harris,” you say with a laugh, hurriedly placing tiles of various shapes in front of him. You need to make the most of the few minutes you have left until Eddie arrives. There’s a soft, familiar flutter in your stomach as you think about seeing your boyfriend, but you know you can’t compete with him for Harris’s attention. “Can you find the…trapezoid?” The inflection in your voice makes it sound like a much more exciting task than it really is, and you hope it’s enough to wrangle his focus.

Harris pokes out his tiny pink tongue as he assesses the tiles. He initially reaches for the blue rhombus, but as soon as his little finger touches it, he pulls away as though it’s on fire. “No…that’s not it.” You tuck your lips into your mouth to suppress your amusement as he thoughtfully taps his forefinger on his lips. A solid ten seconds pass before he triumphantly snatches up the correct tile. “Got it!” he beams, showing off the red trapezoid in his hand.

“You did! You got the trapezoid!” You hold up your hand for a high-five, frowning when he shakes his head. His overgrown curls brush along his eyebrows, and you wonder if it’s your place to suggest that Eddie take him for a haircut. “No high-five?”

“Nuh-uh,” Harris protests, now swiveling his whole body in defiance. “I want…tickles!” He holds his arms out, leaving his torso wide open.

Lips pursed in faux consideration, you lower your voice to a hushed whisper. “Hmm…I think that warrants a visit from the Tickle Monster!” You flex your fingers so they resemble claws; he instinctively scrunches up in anticipation, arms tucked into his stomach. You let out your silliest wicked cackle as your fingers dig mercilessly into his sides in pursuit of his most ticklish spots. Delighted peals of laughter emanate from his chest, and you don’t stop until the buzzer rings, signaling Eddie’s arrival.

Harris’s eyes get wide, mischief dancing behind his pupils. “Do you think the Tickle Monster should get Daddy?” he asks, keeping his voice low despite it only being the two of you.

“Oh, absolutely.” You buzz Eddie in while formulating the game plan aloud. “I’ll grab the pizza and you go on the attack. Once the food is secured, I’ll join you.” You stick out your pinky, and he wraps his own around it.

“Ms. Sweetheart?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

His words turn your heart into a chocolate chip cookie fresh out of the oven, ooey gooey and destined to crumble if handled too harshly. “I love you, too, Harris,” you manage, blinking back embarrassing tears. The flood of emotion is absurd; he probably tells his stuffed animals that he loves them with the same fervor, but you can’t deny the adoration with which he looks at you.

He flings his arms around you in a hug, squeezing tight. Face pressed to your ribs, his words are muffled but still audible when he says, “I don’t know why Daddy says it’s hard to say ‘I love you.’”

He doesn’t have time to further elaborate before Eddie’s knocking on the door. “Special delivery for my two favorite people!” Your heart beats faster with the knowledge that he’s on the other side, that you’ll be able to sneak in a kiss or two.

You and Harris share devious grins, the little boy emulating your monster-esque stance from earlier. He creeps behind you on his tiptoes, and bites back a giggle when you slowly open the door, counting down from three under your breath.

“Hi–whoa!” Eddie stumbles back as Harris barrels into him, little fingers dancing across his lower stomach. You quickly snatch the pizza box from Eddie’s grasp and place it on the table before darting back to where his son has ambushed him. You start on his bicep and let your nails travel upwards until they reach the crook of his neck.

“I’m under attack!” Eddie yelps, twitching this way and that way in a meager attempt to protect himself. “I bring you pizza and this is how I’m repaid?” He easily scoops Harris into his arms, flinging him over his shoulder. Harris lets out an exhilarated squeal, carelessly kicking his sock-clad feet into his dad’s chest. “Jesus, little dude. You’re getting too strong.” Wincing slightly from the pinch in his back as he places the boy on the floor, he gives his tush a little pat and tells him to wash up for dinner, reminding him to use soap and water.

As soon as Harris scampers off into the bathroom, Eddie’s grabbing you by the belt loops of the wide-leg jeans you’d changed into when you got home. One hand slides around your waist and the other finds purchase on your cheek as he kisses you deeply, keeping a listening ear out for the telltale pitter-patter of Harris returning.

“Missed you,” he murmurs into your mouth, and you shiver at the intimacy this closeness brings.

You laugh quietly, biting your lower lip. “We just saw each other this morning,” you remind him, sneaking in another quick peck.

Eddie shakes his head. “Y’know what I mean. Can’t do this while you’re on the clock,” he counters, shifting his grip so both hands rest on either side of your face. You think he’s going to kiss you again, but he just gazes into your eyes. “Shit, you’re so fuckin’ pretty. Couldn’t stop thinkin’ about you today.” He rests the slope of his nose on yours, only snapping out of his trance at the sound of Harris rapidly switching the faucet on and off. “Let me go check on him before this place is underwater,” he whispers, giving your own ass a smack as he shuffles towards his mischievous son, a cheeky grin deepening his dimples.

You do your best to compose yourself, heat creeping up your neck and into your face. Busying yourself by placing pizza slices onto paper plates does little to distract you; it’s as though every neuron is dedicated to flooding your brain with Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.

The way the pads of his fingertips brush against your cheeks when he holds your face. The plush moisture of his lips when he kisses your forehead. The tickle of his brown tresses when he nuzzles into you and takes a deep breath, finally able to relax after a long day.

“Are you expecting a guest?” Eddie pipes up from the kitchen entrance. A perplexed frown overtakes your lips until he gestures to what you’ve laid out in front of you: four slices of pizza, two plain and two with olives, on four plates.

Your vision gets a bit fuzzy with tears when you realize what you’ve done. “No, it’s, um…” Nostrils flare as you huff out a short puff of air, hot under your nose. “Force of habit, sorry.” You’ve been so diligent about only serving three slices, but your preoccupation with his touch had your mind drifting from the task at hand.

It takes him a moment to process what you mean, but when he does, his face falls. It was for Grandma. “It’s okay,” he says, cringing as the words leave his mouth. Because it’s not okay that you’re sad; it’s normal, but frustration still tugs at his heart that he can’t take it away.

It feels wrong to return the slice to the box, so you leave it where it is. Eddie balances the three plates, sliding a plain one in front of Harris. The boy digs in hungrily, sauce caught on the edges of his smile.

“How was work?” you ask Eddie, grabbing a napkin from the pile in the center of the table. It’s a simple question, one that people ask each other all the time, but it stirs up a warmth inside of him. It’s you asking him, fostering a domestic routine that he could follow for the rest of his life. He’d walk through the door of your house, wiping his shoes on the welcome mat you two had picked out together. The kids–Harris, plus another Little Munson or two–would practically knock him down trying to greet him, and he’d engulf them in bear hugs before reaching out to you, kissing your forehead with a murmured, “there’s my girl.”

“Eds?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, it was good.” He stumbles over the words, trying to clear his head of the fantasy he’d conjured up. “Lotsa paperwork, y’know.” He takes a bite of pizza, chewing thoughtfully. “What about you?”

You shrug, watching amusedly as Harris sinks his teeth into his slice and manages to pull all of the cheese off of the crust in one fell swoop. “The usual. The kids are learning about springtime, so Will decided to do a craft making flowers using finger paint and their handprints.”

“Sounds messy.”

“Oh, absolutely,” you agree with a weary grin, “but it was super cute, and Will is great with all that art stuff.” You excuse yourself from the table to get the water pitcher and three glasses, stopping when you remember your TA’s request. “He also asked me if a certain local metal band could play his birthday party on Saturday…?”

Eddie pauses mid-chew, nearly choking on his food. The cheese seems to congeal in his mouth when he tries to speak. “Um, I don’t know about that,” he finally manages, nervously massaging the back of his neck. “I haven’t talked to Danny or Gareth since…”

“I know, but you said you wanted to make things right with them,” you point out. “Maybe Jeff can test the waters? See if they’re ready to talk to you?”

“Maybe.” He averts his gaze, staring at the pizza slice without taking another bite.

You don’t want to further push the subject in Harris’s presence; instead, you turn your attention to the little boy. “Anything fun happen at school today, Har?”

“Nah,” he responds automatically just a half-second before his eyes light up. “Actually, yeah! My friend Charlie ate a bug at recess today!”

“Ew!” you exclaim, wrinkling your nose in pure disgust, as Eddie simultaneously poses the question, “what kind of bug?”

“An ant,” Harris answers his dad nonchalantly, as though ant-eating is an everyday occurrence. Perhaps it is, which is even more unsettling.

“Did you eat any bugs?” You’re afraid of his response; you’re unsure why you even asked in the first place.

To your relief, he shakes his head, a forlorn look on his cherubic face. “No, I couldn’t catch any in time.”

“Thank God for small miracles,” you mutter, turning back to your original task of getting something to drink. Though if the topic of bug consumption continues, you’ll need something much stronger than water.

Could Corroded Coffin play again?

It’s a thought that consumes Eddie for the entirety of his drive home, barely able to listen to Harris yammering about how there’s a coin in his jacket pocket that he doesn’t remember putting there. He throws a few lackluster mhms his son’s way and hopes he’s too distracted by the mystery coin to catch on.

We’re getting the band back together. Well, if Jake and Elwood Blues could swing it, maybe he could, too.

He waits until Harris is asleep to call Jeff. Getting his son to do his bedtime routine is easiest on Wednesday nights; he’s usually exhausted after a full day of school and tutoring. The one time that Eddie could use an excuse to procrastinate, Harris is out like a light.

Go to voicemail go to voicemail go to—

“‘Lo?”

Shit. “H-Hey, man,” Eddie begins awkwardly. “How’s it going? Viv doing okay?”

“We’re good. She’s ready to have this baby already. I reminded her, ‘just two more weeks,’ but then she told me to ‘fuck off’ until I’m the pregnant one, so…” he chuckles, more nervous than amused. “Everything good with you? Harris?”

“Yeah, we’re fine. Just, um,” he struggles to find the words, blurting out the first ones that enter his brain. They come out in a rush before he can stop them. “Do Gareth and Danny still hate me?”

Jeff takes a sharp breath in; his reaction does nothing to temper Eddie’s nerves. “They never hated you. They were just…disappointed? Jesus, I sound like my mom.”

Eddie misses his friend’s anecdote, too wrapped up in his head to fully pay attention. Somehow, disappointed stings worse than the prospect of being hated, especially when the people he’s let down are ones who used to idolize him. “Do you think there’s a way they could be…undisappointed in me? Like, enough to forgive me and maybe play a gig this weekend?”

There’s an extended pause, and then a one-word response: “Christ.”

Eddie can picture Jeff rubbing his eyes in exasperation, and he scrambles to explain. “Will Byers–you remember him? He was in Hellfire; had that weird bowl cut thing going on?”

“Mhm.”

“He’s having a birthday thing at the Hideout on Saturday and asked if we could play. Just a coupla songs.”

Jeff thinks for a moment; Eddie can hear him drumming his fingers on a nearby surface.

“Why don’t you come over tomorrow night around…6?” he ventures. “I’ll invite the guys and we can…I dunno, figure something out.”

“Thanks, man. I owe you.” He’s about to hang up when he remembers to ask, “Can I bring Harris?”

“Of course.”

“Har, slow down!” Eddie’s barely unbuckled his son’s car seat before Harris has wriggled out of the sedan, bolting straight for Jeff’s door.

“But I haven’t seen Uncle Danny and Uncle Gareth in forever!” he laments, reaching the house far faster than Eddie. He stands on tiptoes and rings the doorbell like a madman, forefinger jamming into the button at warp speed. “Uncle Jeff! It’s me!”

Jeff opens the door with a huge smile. “Mini Munson!” He scoops the boy up into a hug. “What’s new with you, little dude?”

“I got a wiggly tooth!” Harris exclaims, jutting out his jaw and pressing his tongue against the front center of his mouth. Sure enough, the baby tooth moves slightly forward, and he giggles. “Daddy says the Tooth Fairy’s gonna come and leave me a dollar,” he matter-of-factly reports. He peeks his head over Jeff’s shoulder, squealing and squirming out of his grip when he spots the two men sitting on the couch. He flings himself onto the sofa and plunks himself down into Gareth’s lap. “Hi!”

“Hey, kiddo!” Gareth chirps. “You’re getting so big.”

“‘M five now. I had a birthday party because I turned five.” He splays out his palm to offer five fingers.

“Did your friends go?”

“Yup!” Harris beams at the memory. “An’ Daddy an’ Grampa Wayne an’ Ms. Sweetheart.”

Danny furrows his brows. “Who’s Ms. Sweetheart?”

“She’s my almost-mommy. Daddy has to fall in love with her first.”

“Is that so?” Gareth smirks at Eddie. His teasing look is the first crack in the wall that has separated the men for the last six months, and though Eddie is thoroughly embarrassed, it alleviates some of his anxiety.

“Uh, Har Bear, why don’t you go hang out with Auntie Viv while I talk with the guys?”

Viv holds out her left hand, looking utterly exhausted. Her right hand rests on her bump, eyes sending a telepathic message to Jeff that they have five minutes—ten minutes, if Harris behaves well—to come to a solution before she needs a break.

Silence filters into the room as Eddie fumbles to address the mess he’s made. If Danny and Gareth are here, they’re at least willing to listen to him, which is honestly farther than he’d assumed he’d get.

He remembers what Harris said about apologizing; technically, what you’d taught him about apologizing: the act of saying sorry, not merely implying it, makes a world of difference.

“I was an asshole,” he starts. It’s not his most eloquent statement, but it certainly gets the point across. “Not just that night at the Hideout, or at our last practice. I was an asshole for a long time before that. And…I’m sorry.” It feels good to say it; it feels even better that they’re nodding, seeming to believe him. “You guys didn’t deserve to be treated like that.”

Of the rest of the band, Gareth is the one to speak first. “I guess I’m just wondering, why? Why be an asshole to us? We’ve always been there for you.”

“I know.” Eddie fiddles with a thread hanging from his t-shirt, pulling on it until it snaps off. He shoves it in his jeans pocket, not wanting to mess up Jeff and Viv’s place. “Honestly…I’m not sure, but I think it’s because you guys are everything I’m not.”

“What are you talking about?” Danny asks, tone heavy with disbelief.

“In high school, I was the one you looked up to. The person you wanted to be like. And then I had a kid with some random chick I thought I knew but barely did, gave up my dreams of being a musician, and started selling weed again just to scrape by. And here you guys are. Jeff,” he motions to the friend leaning against the sofa’s arm, “you have a baby on the way with the love of your life. And all of you have goddamn college degrees and jobs that you don’t despise and don’t require you to hide from the law.” He shoves his ringed fingers into his jacket pockets, lowering his voice to barely above a whisper. “And I was nothing.”

Gareth scratches at the upholstery with one finger, absorbing everything he’s just heard. “You know we never stopped looking up to you, right?” He gives a short laugh when Eddie’s eyes widen. “Yeah, man. Leaving Chicago so you could take care of Harris? Putting your kid before yourself? That’s pretty badass.”

Danny nods. “Ed, if there’s someone here to look up to, it’s you.” Both he and Eddie visibly relax. Shoulders drop from their hunched positions, thin lips unfurling into smiles. “No matter what you went through, you never gave up. Even if it almost killed us,” he adds wryly, referring to all of the sleep-deprived Corroded Coffin practices fueled by black coffee and pure adrenaline.

“No fancy diploma can teach us how to stand up for ourselves, or how not to take shit from people, or how to be a dad,” Jeff pipes up from where he’s standing. “We learn from you, man.”

Eddie’s cheeks burn at the compliments, unsure how to accept them. He’d walked in expecting to have to beg for forgiveness, and they were the ones reassuring him. It’s now or never, and he forges ahead while he still has the courage. “Do you…can we get the band back together?” Can we be friends again is the underlying plea, but it’s too vulnerable a statement to make. “We’ll keep it low-key, I promise. Work, family, anything comes up…we can cancel or reschedule. And I won’t be a dick about it.”

The three other men look at one another, nod and turn back to Eddie with smart grins and mischievous glimmers in their eyes.

“On one condition.” Gareth crosses his arms over his chest, smirking as he sinks back against the couch. “You tell us all about this ‘Ms. Sweetheart.’”

The Hideout, normally dingy and coated in a film of sticky ale, has been decked out for Will’s birthday party. Helium-filled balloons in every color bob along the low ceiling, vibrating with the thumping bass of the old sound system. Crepe paper streamers–purple, Will’s favorite color–sway gently with the air that rushes in from opening the door. This has to be Marshall’s handiwork, and it brings a smile to your face. If anyone deserves a partner who fawns over him, it’s Will.

You spot him surrounded by a group of people as the bartender slides a row of tequila shots across the bar and into their eager hands. While they’re distracted by alcohol, you take the opportunity to dart towards the backstage area.

Eddie’s there, digging around for his lucky pick. You wrap your arms around his waist, fingers pressed into the soft dough of his tummy.

“Hey, Rockstar,” you murmur against his neck, kissing just below his earlobe.

He turns around, jaw dropping when he sees you in a maroon slip dress. The heels on your feet have you two inches taller than usual, and he has to shift where his gaze normally lands to meet your eyes.

“Fuckin’ Christ, baby,” Eddie practically growls, kissing you deeply. One hand presses against the small of your back while the other grabs the plush of your ass, kneading it in his palm. “You’re so fuckin’ sexy. How’m I gonna go out there and play with you looking like that?”

“I’ll make it worth your while.” You giggle when he offers up a bemused smile. “If you do a good job tonight, I’ll give you a reward.” You let your fingertips graze over the metal teeth of his pants zipper, feeling him twitch at your light touch.

“You’re dangerous,” he winks, delivering another kiss; this time, he gives your lower lip a little bite when he pulls away. His kohl-rimmed eyes draw you in just as they did that first night you’d met, but now you dive into them without the fear of drowning.

A tactful “ahem” from the now-open doorway startles both you and Eddie, having been floating in an embrace that’s equal parts comfort and desire.

“Sorry to interrupt the lovefest, but we’re on in five,” a man’s voice calls from the doorway. You turn around to see the other three Corroded Coffin members standing there, amusement evident in their expressions.

“You must be Ms. Sweetheart,” one of the guys, soft curls resting atop his head, pipes up. His tone is teasing, but not mocking; the nickname is said with admiration and affection. “I’m Gareth, by the way.”

“Danny,” the one with tight, wiry curls offers, giving a small wave.

Jeff just shrugs. “You know me.”

Eddie grabs his guitar, slinging the strap across his body. His pants’ fly is tight, and he wills himself to calm down before it’s time to perform. He hasn’t worried about being hard on stage since he was nineteen, but thoughts of your bodies perfectly melding into each other has him subtly adjusting himself as he turns his back to his bandmates.

“See ya out there, baby,” he says before pressing a quick kiss to your cheek. The brief contact between you has you biting your tongue in self-beration for suggesting that the band play tonight. All you want is to dance with him, allowing the steady flow of alcohol to dull your inhibitions as you pull him impossibly close. Not caring who sees or what they think.

But this night isn’t about you or Eddie. It’s about Will, your TA-turned-friend who has kept you sane amidst your adorably chaotic students and their decidedly less adorable and more chaotic parents. He wanted Corroded Coffin to play his party, and that’s the least you could do for him.

Will’s already teetering between tipsy and inebriated, breath tinged with the scent of tequila as he introduces you to his friends.

“This is my amazing boyfriend, Marshall.” He smacks a wet kiss to the man’s cheek. “And these are my friends from growing up: Dustin and Suzie, Lucas and Max, and Mike and Jane.” His face melts into a sappy grin as he leans on Marshall to hold him up. “You guys! We’re all in looooove!”

“Jesus Christ,” Dustin mutters, rolling his eyes and shaking his head before turning his attention back to you. “Can we get you something to drink?”

Will raises his empty glass. “I’ll take another–”

“Not you.”

You manage to sneak in a quick conversation with Max, Suzie, and Jane before Corroded Coffin starts their set. Max is finishing up her Masters in English literature at New York University, set to graduate in two months. Suzie programs for NASA, and though Florida is a far cry from her home state of Utah, she loves her job. And Jane is a social worker at a local adoption agency, the cause close to her heart, as she was adopted by Chief Hopper years ago.

“Damn,” you laugh, taking a small sip of your vodka soda. You’re having so much fun that you don’t even care that it’s been watered down. “You’re all such badasses!”

Your admiration of their collective girl power is cut short by the sound of Corroded Coffin taking the stage. It’s as though they’d never taken an extended break; just picked up right where they left off. You cheer so loudly that there’s a pinch in your throat, but you push past it. It’s more than applause. There’s so much tucked away in your yell: I’m proud of you; you’re a rockstar; you’re my person forever, if you’ll have me.

“Hello, Hawkins!” Eddie bellows into the mic. There’s no missing the grin on his face. He’s happy. He’s in his element. He’s where he belongs.

“No way!” Lucas exclaims, awestruck as he turns to Will.

“Dude, you got Corroded Coffin?” Mike mirrors his friend’s excitement. He slings an arm around Will’s shoulder and pulls him in for a side hug. “This is fuckin’ awesome!”

“The first song of the night goes out to our guest of honor, Will Byers!” Everyone hoots and hollers as Eddie plays the opening chords to The Clash’s Should I Stay or Should I Go. Eddie told you he remembered that the song was one of Will’s favorites growing up; his older brother had gotten him into the band. Sure enough, Will’s bopping to the rhythm, singing every word, albeit quite off-key.

Corroded Coffin plays a few more songs from their usual setlist, nerves dissipating with each note, before Eddie speaks into the mic again.

“This next one is for my beautiful girlfriend,” he announces, eyes gazing into yours. “Baby, if my teachers looked like you, I actually would’ve gone to class.”

He nods at Gareth, who starts playing an incredibly complicated beat. As soon as you hear it, you feel your cheeks heat up. The rest of the guys join in on their own instruments, and Eddie oozes bravado as he sings.

“T-Teacher stop that screamin’ Teacher don’t you see Don’t wanna be no uptown fool.”

Max leans in to you and whisper-shouts, “I’ve known Eddie for years, and I’ve never seen him so…happy.”

Lucas overhears his girlfriend and adds his two cents. “That’s because we’ve never seen him in love.”

Warmth spreads all over your body, but it’s not from embarrassment. Allowing yourself to believe that Eddie loves you—is in love with you—opens a door you’d deadbolted until the time was right. You hadn’t wanted to rush things, but the jolt of exhilaration following Lucas’s statement means you can’t deny it any longer: you love Eddie Munson. You’re in love with Eddie Munson.

“Got it bad, got it bad, got it bad I'm hot for teacher I've got it bad, so bad I'm hot for teacher.”

Will takes the opportunity to twirl you around, and you laugh as you spin amongst new friends, your drink threatening to spill over the sides as he turns you faster.

“Hey! Thank you, by the way!” he shouts, probably a bit louder than he needs to.

“For what?”

“For getting Corroded Coffin to play!” He jerks a thumb towards the stage, stumbling a bit as he does. He’d managed to sneak another tequila shot when his boyfriend left him unattended to use the restroom, and it definitely shows. “And for, like, being there for me.”

You give him a hug, immediately understanding the full implication of his statement. “I’ll always have your back,” you promise, filled with the mingled buzzes of alcohol and belonging.

“I think of all the education that I've missed But then my homework was never quite like this!”

Eddie jumps off of the tiny stage and into the crowd of nine twenty-somethings, each at various levels of tipsiness, and reaches for you to pull you close to him. He’s sweating from constantly moving around and the stage lights, his fingers slick with perspiration as he laces them with yours. Jeff picks up the rhythm for the lead guitar while Eddie kisses you, soft and slow and sensual. He loses himself for a moment before hopping back up to join the rest of the band.

As Corroded Coffin wraps up their Van Halen cover and stops for a quick sip of water, there’s a small commotion behind the bar.

“Is there a Jeff Reynolds here?” the bartender calls out, phone receiver in hand.

Jeff gives a little wave, eyebrows raised in surprise. “That’s me.”

“Someone named Jess on the line? Says your girl is in labor and you need to get to the hospital.”

“Holy shit!” Danny claps a hand to Jeff’s back and grins. “C’mon, man! Let’s get you outta here!”

Jeff freezes up; hands clammy as he grips the guitar’s neck. “Can you drive?” he asks Eddie.

Eddie recognizes the fear in his friend’s voice. The selfish part of him wants to refuse to take Jeff to Hawkins General. He could easily plant his feet on the stage and keep playing, claiming that ‘the show must go on.’

No, he silently chastises himself, Jeff needs me. He needs me and I’ll be damned if I let him down again.

“Of course,” Eddie says, trying to force a relaxed disposition. It doesn’t matter; Jeff is too overwhelmed to notice the obvious effort.

“Take my car,” you offer, keys already dangling from your fingertips. “Eds, I can take yours and pick up Harris from Wayne’s tomorrow.” It’s easier to swap rides than to uninstall and reinstall the carseat, so you’re perplexed when Eddie shakes his head.

Two words slip through his lips, soft but pronounced: “Need you.”

Dustin catches wind of the situation and insists on watching Harris until you and Eddie can come back home, claiming he needs to squeeze in as much uncle-nephew bonding time as possible before returning to Florida.

“Henderson, it’s late; don’t let him stay up,” Eddie warns as he tosses over his car keys.

Dustin tries catching them in one hand, but they hit the center of his palm and fall to the ground. “But the best part of being an uncle is breaking the rules!” he laughs as he scoops the keys off of the floor. “By the way, I’m not drunk; just a shit baseball player.” Still, Eddie’s sigh of relief is audible when Suzie plucks the keyring from Dustin’s hand.

With Harris taken care of, you turn your attention to your boyfriend. Eddie’s face is flushed pale, and you’re worried about him behind the wheel. “Want me to drive?”

He nods and grabs onto your hand as you lead the two men to your car. Eddie’s doing his best to keep Jeff calm, reminding him that the doctors and nurses have everything under control until he gets there.

“I’m gonna be a dad,” Jeff murmurs, a disbelieving chuckle permeating the otherwise silent car. “Holy shit.”

Eddie can’t help but smile back. “It only gets crazier from here.”

The bright lights of the hospital’s waiting room are anything but soothing, especially compared to the dimly-lit bar you’d just left. You speak to the receptionist, an older woman with a tired smile and red-rouged cheeks, explaining the situation as she pages Jess while Jeff and Eddie take a seat.

Jeff’s voice is nearly impossible to hear despite the stillness of the room. “The baby was breech at Viv’s last appointment.” He clocks Eddie’s confusion and elaborates. “Feet first, instead of the head. If they didn’t get into the right position and the doctors can’t, I dunno, flip ‘em around? They’ll have to do a c-section.” Long overdue tears spill over his lash line, and he makes no attempt to swipe them away. “I just wanna fix it and I can’t.”

Helplessness. It’s a feeling Eddie knows all too well. He spins a ring around his finger, exhaling softly as he considers a response. He can’t say it’ll be alright, because he has no idea whether or not it will be. He and Jeff both know that.

“No matter what, I’m here for you.” Eddie’s gaze flits over to the receptionist’s desk, where Jess has now arrived and is waving her brother-in-law over. “You’re up.”

But Jeff remains in his chair, hands shoved under his thighs as though they’re glued to the seat. “I…I don’t know if I can do this. What if something happens to Viv or the baby? How can I…?” He doesn’t allow himself to complete the sentence, to finish the thought.

Instinctively, Eddie puts his hands on Jeff’s shoulders. He can feel them trembling slightly as his friend heaves another shaky breath. “Listen to me. You’re gonna do this. You’re gonna go in that room and watch your girl give birth to your baby. Because if you don’t, you’re gonna regret it for the rest of your fuckin’ life.” He glances around and lowers his voice. “I know you’re scared, okay? I get it. And once your kid is safely here, we can talk about it. But right now, you need to pull it together and go be a goddamn dad.”

Jeff nods, finally acquiring the physical stability to stand. “Thank you,” he whispers, clearing his throat and wiping the wet stains from his cheeks. He starts towards Jess before turning back to Eddie. “Could you stay until the baby’s born? If you have to get home to Harris, I understand…”

There it is: his out. He can easily use his son as an excuse, despite the fact that Dustin and Suzie were perfectly capable of babysitting him. He can hightail it out of here and never look back. He can crawl into bed and feel sorry for himself for having to step foot in a godforsaken maternity ward again.

“Yeah. I can stay.”

Nearly an hour passes with Eddie’s head resting on your shoulder, relaying what Jeff told him. Identical knots form in your stomachs as the seriousness of the complications sets in. You don’t say a word as he speaks; you just try to shift without disturbing him. The cushion on the chair back, worn thin, digs into you uncomfortably, but you don’t dare move too much. His vulnerability is a deer that will scamper away at the slightest startle.

You think he’s fallen asleep until you feel his soft lips on your cheek, a muffled, “mine?” against your skin. You note his phrasing; it’s careful and unsure, a symptom of being in his own head for far too long.

“Of course I’m yours,” you whisper back, pressing a kiss to his scalp. “What’s got you asking such silly questions?”

“I don’t like this.” It’s an answer and non-answer all in one.

“Being in a hospital?”

He shakes his head, frizzed curls tickling the crook of your neck. His forehead is sticky with cooled perspiration. “Waiting to see if the baby is okay.”

The realization hits you like a punch to the stomach, immediately hollowing you out. The last time he went through this, it was when Harris was being born. You can’t think of anything to say, so you just nuzzle in closer to him and exhale.

“Why do I feel like this?” Neither of you are sure if he’s asking you, himself, or the universe. “‘S not the same. Viv’s not using drugs; Jeff stuck around the whole time…”

“Doesn’t matter. That’s not how this stuff works, y’know?” You adjust your position so you can look into his eyes. The whites are stained red with worry and exhaustion. “Your gig got interrupted, just like when Harris was born. And there's uncertainty now, too. It’s normal for these kinds of memories to get dredged up.” Your palm rests on his cheek, thumb gently stroking the skin as you ask, “can you try to get some sleep?”

“But what if Jeff needs—”

“I’ll wake you up if he needs you,” you reassure him, settling back into the chair. You lean your head against the wall; the heaviness in your eyelids battles the anxious fluttering in your stomach, but it seems as though sleep is winning.

Eddie’s hand finds your forearm, rubbing up and down the gooseflesh that has appeared courtesy of the air conditioning blasting through the building. Shrugging off his jacket and resting the leather fabric over your shoulders, he can relax once he’s reassured that you’re comfortable. He assumes his previous position, using your shoulder as a pillow and falling asleep gradually, body jostling itself awake from the unfamiliar sleeping arrangement. Eventually, you can hear his soft snores; for the first time tonight, he’s peaceful.

You could tell him now, a whisper under your breath that he’s unlikely to hear. I love you, Eddie. I’m in love with you. Your lips part in anticipation, but you snap them shut. You’re delirious and overwhelmed; Lucas’s throwaway comment about Eddie being in love is rattling around your brain. If you say it and Eddie hears you…

You keep it to yourself for now, letting your body rest while still supporting Eddie’s head. Tomorrow is a new day, with a new life brought into the world. Love—if that’s even what this is—will have to wait until then.

The soft pink of breaking daylight streams through the windows when Jeff wakes Eddie up six hours later, shaking him by the shoulders.

“What the fuck?” Eddie grumbles, wiping the sleep from his eyes. When he registers where he is and the potential urgency of the situation, he sits up straight, head filling with fuzziness from the sudden movement. He wouldn’t call the evening restful, but he’d managed to doze off for longer than he’d expected.

“It’s a girl!” Jeff announces, beaming from ear to ear. He’s bouncing on the balls of his feet, bursting with enthusiasm and emotion.

As soon as Eddie’s vision clears, he’s on his feet and pulling his best friend in for a giant hug. When he steps back, he realizes that he and Jeff sport matching misty eyes. “Dude, you’re officially a dad now. You have a daughter!”

“I have a daughter,” Jeff repeats incredulously. His eyes cloud with tears, and he blinks them away as he peers over at the empty seat next to Eddie. “Did your lady go home?”

Eddie swivels around, so caught up in the moment that he hadn’t realized he was alone. She left. She left without me; she didn’t want to stick around and deal with–

“Did Viv have the baby?” Your excited voice penetrates through his intrusive thoughts as you stroll in from the hallway. The makeup around your eyes is smudged; you’d tried to wipe some of it off in the bathroom, but water and thin hospital paper towels are no substitute for makeup wipes. “Sorry, I had to pee.”

Eddie smiles at the sight of you, still wearing his jacket. He hopes his sigh of relief is concealed by Jeff’s exuberance. “A girl. Six pounds, ten ounces.” He shoves his hands in his pockets. “Wanna meet her?”

“Of course!” You and Eddie begin following him down the corridor. “Wait, is Viv feeling up to having visitors?” You’re mildly ashamed to admit that, in your eagerness, you’d forgotten about the baby being breech and the possible c-section.

Jeff nods. “I think my daughter’s gonna be a gymnast, ‘cause she’d flipped herself back around between the appointment and last night.”

There’s no masking Jeff’s pride when he says my daughter, and it makes Eddie want to hug him again. “That’s amazing,” he murmurs. There’s a small pang in his heart, a bead of resentment that Harris’s birth didn’t go so smoothly, but it’s unimportant right now. His best friend just became a father, and he refuses to let his own hang-ups take away from this moment.

“Hi,” you whisper when Jeff opens the door to room 1007. Viv is propped up against pillows, exhausted but happier than she’s ever been before. Your gaze is immediately drawn to the hours-old bundle in her arms. “How are you?”

“Sore,” she replies truthfully, brushing her forefinger against her baby’s closed fist, “but the epidural was a lifesaver.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you tease, unaware that your words have Eddie’s heart skipping a beat at the idea of you bearing a little Munson. “Is it okay if I hold her?” You don’t want to intrude on the new mother’s bonding time, but your insides turn to mush when the baby opens her tiny lips and yawns.

Viv carefully places the newborn in your arms, and you gingerly adjust to support her head. Eddie swears that you holding a baby, in that dress, wearing his jacket, is the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. “Did Jeff tell you her name?” Viv asks, stifling a yawn. When you and Eddie both shake your heads, she smiles and glances at her partner.

He clears his throat, suddenly bashful. Eddie forces himself to tear his gaze from the way you smile and coo at the baby and look over at Jeff. “Her name is Nicolette,” he starts, “but that’s a big name for a little girl, so we figured we can call her Ettie, and she’ll kinda…share a nickname with you.”

Eddie’s eyes go wide, convinced he heard incorrectly. “You…I’m her namesake?”

“Mhm,” Jeff confirms, the grin never leaving his face. What neither you nor Eddie know is that they had had a different name picked out, and had fully intended on using it until the first time Jeff held their daughter. It filled him with a feeling of wholeness, of being complete, and it strangely had him thinking of his best friend. Without Eddie taking him under his wing, he might not even be here to experience this.

It was only by chance that he had stumbled upon Hellfire Club during his freshman year. He was running from Billy Hargrove and his posse, who were determined to beat the hell out of him simply because they could, and had ducked into the drama room to protect himself. Eddie had taken one look at his face and immediately recognized the expression of fear and defeat from being incessantly bullied. “You know how to play Dungeons & Dragons?” he’d asked, and when Jeff had managed a nod, he’d pulled up a chair and motioned for him to sit down.

Being Eddie’s friend, being part of something, gave him a reason to keep going. To live. And in that instant, he vowed to teach his child to extend kindness toward any misfits who need a place to be themselves.

“What about Nicolette?” he’d asked Viv. “Ettie for short.”

You turn to Eddie now, continuing the steady rocking rhythm that keeps Baby Ettie calm. “What do you say, Mr. Namesake? Wanna hold her?”

There’s a brief flash of panic that floods through his veins; he hasn’t held a newborn since Harris. He’d always worried about dropping him or tripping and falling. Truth be told, he was terrified until his son could hold his own head up.

It’s similar, but not the same, he reminds himself, shuffling even closer to you so you can safely transition Ettie into his arms. She stirs slightly in her swaddle but doesn’t cry.

“Hey, little lady,” he says, a delicate smile dancing on his lips. “I’m your Uncle Eddie. The coolest uncle you’ll ever have, for the record.”

“Harris is gonna love her,” you add, heart swelling at the imagery of him cuddling up to his newest cousin.

“Babe?” Viv pipes up from the bed. “Can you grab me something to eat? ‘M starving.”

“Yeah, of course.” Jeff turns to Eddie. “Come with me? I think Viv needs to feed Ettie, anyway.”

Viv extends her arms and Eddie begrudgingly hands the baby to her. Ettie’s so adorable and small, and it makes him yearn for the days when Harris was that little. Maybe not the sleepless nights or the lack of head control, but the scent of baby powder, the toothless smiles, the way he would fall asleep in Eddie’s arms to whatever song happened to be on the radio. Harris Munson might have been the only infant to be soothed by Twisted Sister.

The two men make their way to the hospital cafeteria, sneakers squeaking along the freshly-waxed linoleum tiles.

“I, um, I’m really proud of the way you stepped up for Viv,” Eddie says, eyes trained on the floor. “You’re a great partner. I feel like I should be taking notes.”

Jeff laughs, shaking his head. “That's where my expertise ends. I have no idea how this whole fatherhood thing works.”

“Wanna hear a secret?” Eddie leans in, shifting his weight onto one foot. He doesn’t wait for his friend’s response to divulge, “none of us do. We’re just…” he waves his hand aimlessly, “…figuring it out as we go.” And making plenty of mistakes along the way, he silently adds.

“I don’t know how you did this alone,” Jeff puffs out an incredulous breath. “I mean, I know you had Wayne’s help…” he trails off, not needing to further elaborate on the missing parent.

“Yeah, me either, man. I’m just glad I’m not alone anymore.”

Jeff stops walking, turning to face him. There’s the unmistakable look of pride that manages to make itself prominent despite his evident exhaustion as he says, “You really want this with her, don’t you?”

“Yeah, man,” Eddie chuckles. “It’s like, for the first time, I’m not just thinking about just me or just Harris. I’m thinking about us as a family.” The dinnertime conversations, the gentle ribbings, the tenderness that seamlessly weaves itself into vulnerable conversations.

“She’s good for you,” Jeff agrees. “And you love her.”

“I mean, I—”

“That was a statement, not a question. You love her.”

And in a single breath, Eddie lets go of the fear he’s been clutching to like a life preserver. The one thing he hasn’t allowed himself to say aloud because it makes it so real, so fucking real.

“I love her.”

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sweet-s0rr0w · 6 months

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Vintage Drarry Fics

Thought I'd put together a list of some of the old Drarry 'classics' of my teenage years, for anyone interested. All posted between 2001-2006, compiled using my (bad) memory, a lot of googling, fanlore.org and numerous different LJ rec accounts (including the incredible @capiturecs). I checked as best I could, but if anyone knows of any fics that their author doesn't want to be shared, please let me know and I will of course remove.

Please also note that these fics are of their era, when attitudes may have been different, and they may not all be grammatically perfect. I haven't reread all, as my own tastes have changed, but most importantly do note that they may not be tagged - don't blame me when, for example, Harry dies tragically on a rooftop at sunrise...

Hogwarts Era (mostly 5th-7th year)

A Thousand Beautiful Things by Duinn Fionn/geoviki (M, 105k)

Draco Malfoy struggles with changed fortunes, shifted alliances, an ugly war, and an unusual spell, with the help of a concerned professor, an insightful house-elf, and an unexpected Gryffindor friend.

All Bets Are Off by Allegra (R, 53k)

I am SICK of Good-little-innocent!Harry...Enter Playboy!Harry and his Overinflated Ego, a challenge, a bet, a couple of Really Cunning Plans - and there you have it, "Forty days and forty nights", Hogwarts style. Mayhem ensues!

Angels and Devils by beren (E, 52k)

Harry defeated Voldemort and his act of heroism is famous throughout the wizarding world. He's trying to finish his final year at Hogwarts in peace, but, thanks to the method he chose to destroy The Dark Lord, something peculiar is happening to him, something he never would have expected. It's all rather embarrassing and making his life very complicated.

Artful Facade by Sky Sorceress (T, 66k)

Sometimes you fly too close to the sun and lose your wings. With sixth year approaching, the danger Harry seeks can be found only in the form of Draco Malfoy. What follows is a twist in the line between hatred, love, and need.

Beautiful World by Cinnamon/Lissadiane (M, 70k)

Harry finds out he's going to die on his 16th birthday. He embarks on a journey of self-destructive behaviour and drags Draco along for the ride.

Beneath You by Cinnamon/Lissadiane (M, 113k)

Draco had no idea that the repercussions of stealing Potter's journal and shoving it down the back of his trousers would be so extreme.

Bond by AnnaFugazzi (M, 173k)

It seems 95% of H/D writers feel compelled to write a "Harry And Draco Are Forced To Be Together By Something Beyond Their Control And Then Unlikely Stuff Happens That Leads To Twoo Wuv" story. Count me among the 95% ;)

Checkmate by Naadi Moonfeather (T, 245k)

Draco has the perfect plan to get Harry Potter and challenges him to a game of Dare Chess. But is it love, or betrayal, he has in mind?

The Cicatrix Cycle by Ivy Blossom (NC-17, long!)

Three parts: Origins, Haven, Belong

Draco In Darkness by Plumeria (T, 41k)

Following an accident in his seventh year, Draco loses his eyesight. After Harry elbows his way into Draco's dark world, both boys find themselves in a strange new friendship, and they each learn new ways to see each other … and themselves.

Eclipse by PhoenixSong/Mijan (T, 287k)

"You're dead, Potter... I'm going to make you pay..." Draco swore his revenge on Harry for Lucius's imprisonment, and Harry all but laughed at him. But Draco is planning more than schoolyard pranks this time. The old rivalry turns deadly when Draco abducts Harry for Voldemort. It's the perfect plan, guaranteeing revenge, power, and prestige, all in one blow. But, when Draco's world turns upside down, the fight to save himself and Harry begins, and the battle will take them both through hell and back. If they come back.

Friend Like Me by Lady Vader (M, 11k)

Draco's rendition of the love story that never was.

How Harry Potter Got His Groove Back by Durendal/Eleveninches (R, 12k)

Snape tries to hang himself, Draco enters an alternate reality, and Harry Gets a Clue. Humor, SLASH, naughty language, and other Evil Things. Harry/Draco, Snape/James/Lucius.

Irresistible Poison by Rhysenn (PG-13, 124k)

Under the influence of a love potion, Draco learns that poison doesn't always bring death -- there are other ways to suffer and live. Chemical emotion runs feverish as Harry and Draco discover the intoxication of love.

Lettered by pir8fancier (M, 7.8k)

Harry has a secret penpal, whose identity is as plain as the nose on his face. Except he's not wearing his glasses.

Love Under Will by Aja (R, 116k)

In their 5th year, Harry and Draco choose to be with one another; but the story--and the battle-- is just beginning...

playing the game, living the lie by Abaddon (R, 159k)

Set in Sixth Year, both the wizarding and Muggle worlds are threatened as Voldemort plans a final revenge. Past, present and future collide as all must consider where their loyalties lie; who they are, and who they want to be. Amidst it all, Harry and Draco begin a dangerous journey of understanding. Is it possible to leave everything you thought you were behind?

Resolution by Frances Potter (R, 322k)

When you've spent six years fighting evil, all you really want is a quiet time. But when your name is Harry Potter the chances of that are very slim. A series of vignettes chronicling Harry's final six months at Hogwarts. Exams, friends, lovers, Quidditch, the war and Draco all conspire to make the year end seem a very long way away.

Seamus is Seamus and You are Yourself by Ari Munami (PG-13, 31k)

Harry goes through some er... changes in his Sixth Year and everyone, including Draco Malfoy, sits up and takes notice.

Snakes and Lions by GatewayGirl (M, 139k)

When Ron and Hermione get together, they notice only each other. A nightmare prompts Harry to return alone to the empty Chamber of Secrets, and leads to a new look at an old enemy. Harry enjoys the company, but with Bellatrix Lestrange actively hunting him, how far can he trust a Death Eater's son?

Something Impossible by epicylical/Cassandra Claire (PG, 6.4k)

As punishment for an act of vandalism, Draco is forced to perform three tasks to win Harry's forgiveness - only they don't turn out to be exactly the kind of tasks he'd been expecting. With wet shirtless Draco, paint-covered Harry, and Proust-reading Goyle.

Transformation by amalin (E, 98k)

In Harry's sixth year at Hogwarts, he must face the consequences of the attack on the Department of Mysteries and the effects of Voldemort's return. And in doing so, he finds that even your enemies can teach you valuable lessons—about the world, and about yourself.

Walking the Line by SilentAuror (E, 179k)

Sixth year is over and Draco Malfoy is on the run. The war is on and an unwanted assignment is forced upon him by the only people he trusts - and a one-time arch-enemy just may be out to kill him.

Post-Hogwarts

Adagio in G Minor by furiosity (NC-17, 18k)

Seven years after Hogwarts and the war, life continues in the wizarding world. Draco Malfoy is rich, bored, and slightly jaded. Harry Potter is famous, busy, and somewhat disillusioned. They've not seen each other since school ended. What would happen if they were to cross paths again? What if it involved music?

Big Dick, Come Quick [PDF] by Calanthe (NC-17, 204k)

Draco’s got a theory. About sex. And after much searching for the right candidate, it appears that only Harry Potter, his life long enemy, can help him test it out.

Draco's Escort Service by Cheryl Dyson/dysonrules (15, 12k)

Draco's job is to escort travelers through the dangerous, war-torn countryside. Harry Potter is forced to hire him, but his destination isn't quite what Draco expected.

Left My Heart by Emma Grant (E, 85k)

Auror Draco Malfoy has disappeared, and Harry Potter has been sent to San Francisco to find him.

Malfoy, P.I. by Nancy (R, 60k)

"I'm Draco Malfoy, private investigator. I've seen a lot--I mean a lot, and I'm like sweet seventeen a lot. I thought I'd seen it all, until a pair of green eyes stepped into my office." A noir AU set in L.A. where passion and magic collide. Slashy and sexy.

Queen of Hearts by scoradh (E, 65k)

A spectre is haunting Harry - the responsibility of his destiny. It looms over his future and, more importantly, over the future of his friends. Harry is determined to exorcise this spectre for the greater good, but on the way, he enters into a few unholy alliances.

Tissue of Silver by fearlessdiva (R, 76k)

A love story concerning possessed furniture, black silk pyjamas, courtroom drama, premonitions of doom, assassination attempts, Death Eater yoga, absinthe, bare feet and a sensible werewolf.

Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow by November Snowflake (M, 58k)

When the long-missing Draco Malfoy turns up at a Ministry field hospital with amnesia, bitter Auror Harry Potter must confront the shadows of their shared past to shed light on a potentially deadly mystery.

Transfigurations by Resonant (E, 71k)

Five years after Voldemort's defeat, Harry returns to England to help re-open Hogwarts.

#drarry #fic recs #vintage drarry fics #loved putting this together #blast from the past

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wonryllis · 2 months

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⠀⠀ ⠀ ꒰ ⠀ִ ⠀ ⠀ׂ キス⠀⠀ﾉ ⠀ 𝗈𝖿⠀𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 ⠀ ִ ⠀ ꒱ ㅤ 天上ㅤ ㅤ⏤𝒽eaven's net

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( enhypen as ) HEADCANONS.

enhypen as song kang ( your kdrama life in a nutshell. ) | fluff, hyung line, suggestive |

enhypen as to all the boys i've loved before ( your teen romance come true. ) | fluff, maknae line | 📌

enhypen as kinds of love ( your safe place in a person. ) | fluff, comfort, small scenario, all members | 📌📌

i'm a mthrfckin starboy! ( where you got the good girl faith in them. ) | fluff, enha as bad boys, short scenarios, all members | 📌📌

my world in my arms ( where your embrace is everything. ) | fluff, suggestive in the tiniest bit for jake, cuddling with enha, all members |

enhypen as kdrama leads and their loves ( where they find a you in their complicated story. ) | fluff, suggestive, short scenarios, all members | 📌📌

you are made of angel dust ( where you are their darling little princess. ) | fluff, princess treatment, all members | 📌📌 POPULAR

satan's imagination, agent enhypen ( where they got the hots for their work partner. ) | fluff, suggestive, short scenario, agent!reader, all members | 📌

REACTIONS.

enhypen when their crush calls them baby ( where you make their heart skip a beat. ) | fluff, scenario, all members |

enhypen meeting their long distance s/o for the first time ( when you finally link together for real. ) | fluff, scenario, all members |

high on heels for you ( when you wear pretty heels for them. ) | fluff, headcanons, small scenarios, all members |

enhypen when you act cute and clingy after messing up something ( where you melt their heart in an unexpected way. ) | fluff, short scenario, all members |

idol!enhypen when their idol s/o has dating rumours with someone else ( where they face the consequences of secrecy. ) | fluff, idol au, all members | 📌

non!idol enhypen falling in love at first sight with idol!reader ( where you put them under a spell. ) | fluff, scenarios, all members |

randomly giving them a rose on the street ( where they are mesmerized by a stranger. ) | fluff, all members |

enhypen when they realize they love you ( where they know they're in it for the long run. ) | rom-fluff, short scenario, all members, kinda poetic? | 📌📌 POPULAR

idol!enhypen revealing their non!idol s/o ( where they declare it to the world. ) | fluff, scenario, all members |

enhypen when they get jealous over a guy hitting on you ( when they taste the perils of a pretty girlfriend. ) | fluff, scenario, all members |

enhypen coming home to find you asleep ( where even asleep you have them smitten. ) | fluff, all members | POPULAR

enhypen when you wear a lingerie ( where you give them a little surprise. ) | SMUT, scenario, hyung line | 📌📌 POPULAR

enhypen finding your writing account of them ( where your delusional side gets exposed. ) | fluff, kinda crack, all members |

enhypen and refused kisses ( where kisses are too hard to resist. ) | fluff, short scenario, all members | 📌📌 POPULAR

idol!enhypen revealing their idol!s/o ( where the fans find you together. ) | fluff, idol au, all members |

perilla leaf and shrimp peeling debate trend with enhypen | fluff, crack, text au, all members | 📌

enhypen admiring their girl ( where they are too down bad. ) | fluff, all members |

INDIVIDUAL MEMBERS.

、LEE HEESEUNG. —⁠이희승

yes baby? in a lovesick smile ( where he shows you what's it like to be loved right. ) | fluff, comfort hurt, drabble |

agent heeseung: little bit dangerous baby, that's how i like it ( where agent red gets distracted ) | headcanons, NSFW, short |

i can be whatever you want me to be | drabble, 0.8k, fluff, toxic situationship, down down down bad lee heeseung with naive philophobic reader, age gap, suggestive: mild | 📌

you know i want you | short drabble, fluff, strangers to lovers, neighbours to lovers, rock band frontman!heeseung |

、PARK JONGSEONG. —⁠박종성

last friday night ( think we kissed ) | fluff, enemies secretly in love but oblivious, long drabble? oneshot? 3.3k | 📌

you, my fate come and kiss me | fluff-angst, soulmate au, short drabble <500, valentine special |

daddy issues, my little girl (teaser) | neighbours to lovers, strangers to lovers, SMUT, fluff, comfort, angst, romance, ddlg concept, i know you can do it but let me do it for you trope, oneshot, around 35k, revamp + new part | 📌.THE FAV!

preview. you had always had daddy issues, for as long as you could remember. so when jay came along with his caring nature, how could you possibly keep your feelings at bay? not to forget, your roses of love have wilted long before you even knew what love meant but jay, he’s here at your doorstep with a watering can. will you be able to refuse? or where, new neighbor dr jay park is asked to babysit you over the week. ironically the only man you have ever had a crush on.

、SIM JAEYUN. —⁠심재윤

into the spider verse ( you're a sunflower, i think your love would be too much. ) | fluff, slightly suggestive in some places, headcanons, small scenarios and dialogues, jake as spiderman, 2k | 📌📌

please teach me how to understand you ( where he is ready to learn to love you. ) | comfort hurt, argument, reader overthinks a lot, drabble |

watermelon sugar (M) | roommates to lovers, SMUT, fluff, crack, fuckboy soft for his girlie trope, college au, oneshot, 13.5k, a major revamp | POPULAR

preview. he’s the sweetest to you, one might confuse him for your boyfriend, but he’s not, he just your fuckboy of a roommate who treats you like a delicate candy, always looking out for you and never at you; or so you think.

、PARK SUNGHOON. —⁠박성훈

baby you're the only one for me: must've been your other girlfriend NSFW TEXT!AU

somewhere in northern italy (teaser) | fake dating, enemies to lovers, fluff, crack, suggestive, almost smut, one shot. at least 10k or more | 📌

preview. park sunghoon hates oranges, he always has. the tangy citrusy tingles he's so not fond of it. he also hates you, the living embodiment of an orange: cheery, full of life, and well, round. why should he be bothered by it though? all he has to do is work hard to get into his dream university. but the thing is, he really needs a specific recommendation letter for it. something which he can only get from your father. and hypothetically speaking, he can't just ask for it, so he does you 'a favor for a favor'; he fake dates you on your trip home for summer break and surprise surprise your family owns the biggest orange farm in the country.

poker face ( she's got me like nobody ) | fluff, enemies secretly in love but oblivious, long drabble? oneshot? 2.3k | 📌

the three stages of dating park sunghoon | fluff, scenarios, drabbles, 1.1k |

happy for a while | angst, rebound!reader, no physical cheating though, painful but really good i promise, 1.4k drabble |

、KIM SEONWOO. —⁠김선우

. . nothing yet

、YANG JUNGWON. —⁠양정원

give a chance to cupid: situationship texts with yang jungwon 📌

my sun, he makes me shine: thoughts on soft boyfriend jungwon with his stressed s/o | headcanons, fluff, comfort? |

、NISHIMURA RIKI. —⁠西村力

stop teasing me! ( where his hidden feelings are not so hidden. ) | fluff, older reader, super short <500, scenario, drabble |

lowkey accidentally falling super hard for you: slightly toxic!situationship texts with riki 📌 POPULAR

#📌 YEONiE's MASTERLiST !!#enhypen imagines #enhypen headcanons #enhypen reactions #enhypen drabbles #enhypen oneshots #enhypen scenarios #enhypen fluff #enhypen angst #enhypen heeseung imagines #enhypen jay imagines #enhypen jake imagines #enhypen sunghoon imagines #enhypen sunoo imagines #enhypen jungwon imagines #enhypen niki imagines

314 notes · View notes

talaok · 9 months

Text

Chapter one: The perfect life

Pairing: No-outbreak!Joel x married!reader

Series summary: You moved to Austin Texas with your husband due to his job, but your already troubled marriage is about to get more complicated when the contractor remodeling your home, Joel Miller, will enter both of your lives.

Chapter summary: Moving to Austin was the right decision, but you can't shake the feeling that something's wrong.

warnings: hints to the reader's unhappy childhood, and a very short smut moment

Next chapter

New city, new home, new life.

You should have been happy, you really should have been, but the weight that had sat on your chest as you got on the plane had lingered.

You wanted this. You had to.

You had the perfect life.

A big house with an even bigger lawn, more money than you ever thought possible, and a loving husband.

A loving husband of two years, a loving husband who had to move to Texas for work, a loving husband who you followed across the country, leaving everything and everyone behind, because it's him, and you love him.

Yes. You love him, just as he loves you.

You just needed time, time to adjust, and find a way to start new.

And Austin seemed as good a place as any.

It's warm and sunny here, and the city has an aura you had never quite encountered in any other place.

It's different from New York, yes, but different is good, different means change, and you needed a change.

"I smell burnt"

"oh- shit" you hissed, your gaze finally dropping from the window and down towards the pan where bacon was frying.

You turned the stove off and opened the window, trying to get some of the smell out.

"You ok?"

You looked at Richard, his deep blue eyes, perfectly slicked-back hair, and the tailored suit hugging his body like a second skin made him look as if he had come straight out of a commercial.

He wasn't watching you anymore, his attention had moved to the coffee maker.

"yeah I'm fine, I'm just a little tired I guess"

"you should rest today," he said, pouring some coffee into a cup

"I will" you nodded, glancing at the pan "I should probably make more bacon"

"don't worry" he stopped you "I'll just eat something on the way"

"you sure?"

"Yeah" He took a sip from his mug and set down on a stool

"So..." you walked to the opposite side of the kitchen counter to face him "Are you nervous?"

He raised his eyes from his phone to look at you.

"Why would I be? I'm the boss"

"yeah, but it's still your first day"

He shrugged "I just want to get it over with, today's only gonna be meetings and people introducing themselves, tomorrow's gonna be my actual first day"

"right," you offered him a small smile "And have you talked to Francis?"

"Yeah, he said he'll show me around today"

He stood up to place the cup in the sink.

"and about the remodeling?"

"Right, yeah he gave me a number, I'll text it to you"

"great"

Silence fell, and with it, a spell seemed to turn you both to stone

He broke it first

"Right" he glanced at his watch "I better go"

"Right," you said, taking a step closer to him.

His lips were on and off of yours so quickly you wondered if you had imagined it.

"Have a great day" you managed, as he walked out of the room

"you too"

__ __ __

The shelves had finally started to come to life.

"Why do we have to bring all your books, it's a waste of time" you recalled Richard saying "It's not like you're gonna read all of them again"

It infuriated you how he didn't get it, how completely baffled he was by your decision.

Like hell you were leaving such an important part of you back home.

Some of the volumes filling the living room you've had since you were a child, some of these stories raised you when there was no one else bothering to do the job.

A small, unexpected smile pulled at your lips as your gaze fell to the last remaining book in the box.

'scary stories to tell in the dark'

You were only 12 years old when you read it. You had found it in the school library, and tempted by a bravado that didn't belong to you, you had picked it up and stuffed it in your bag, carrying it all the way home as if it were the most precious treasure ever known to man.

It had helped silence the screams down the hallway, but it also made it impossible for you to sleep for a whole week.

A quiet laugh climbed your throat as you remembered watching every shadow in your room mutate into a horrifying monster.

You had never given it back.

The barely-together copy in your hands was the same one you had held 22 years ago.

For some reason, out of all the books you've read, this one you held closer to your heart.

Perhaps it was the rebellion behind the act, or perhaps, it was the feeling that that book had given you, the courage, the proof that you could do it, that you were gonna come out the other end, the proof, at last, that monsters can be fought, and at times even defeated.

You sighed, as you settled the book onto the now overflowing shelf, taking a step back to admire the living room.

That's it.

Piece by piece, you were gonna make this your home.

The next hours passed in a frenzy and by the time only a box was left on the floor, it was two in the afternoon.

You had been so caught up with your work you had forgotten to eat.

And now that you realized... god if you weren't hungry.

It's just one more box though, you thought as you peeked at it.

Yeah, c'mon I can do this

Only the stuff for the coffee table remained, and as you took the first item-

Fuck.

The shattered lamp rested on the floor like paint on a Pollok.

Fuck me, man, that was expensive.

You cringed as you bent to try and pick up the sharp pieces, but of course, as a ringing sounded across the room, you gasped and lost your focus, cutting your finger on the glass.

A stinging pain shot through you and you winced loudly, stumbling backward while trying hard not to look at the blood.

This really wasn't the time to be fainting.

Your phone was still annoyingly ringing.

"What?" you picked up without bothering to look

"I'm sorry is this a bad time?" what sounded like a confused male's voice spoke through the phone.

"Richard?" you frowned as you realized it was an unknown number "I'm sorry who's this?"

"I'm Joel, Joel Miller, from the contracting company" he paused "Your husband gave me your number"

"oh" you breathed "I-I'm sorry, he didn't tell me"

"Ma'am if this is a bad time I can call you later"

"no, no please don't worry I just- Now it's fine"

"ok good, your husband has told me you want to do some remodeling?"

"Yeah, we have a big room on the second floor that's unutilized and I'd like to build up a wall and make it into two rooms, perhaps a guest bedroom and bathroom"

He hummed, considering your words "That shouldn't be a problem, I'd like to come to your house one of these days so I can see the space firsthand"

"Yeah sure" You nodded, wrapping a paper towel around your finger once you walked to the kitchen "Would tomorrow be alright?"

"Absolutely, how does 10:30 sound?"

"perfect" you smiled

"Alright then, if you just give me your address we're gonna be all set"

"of course"

__ __ __

he didn't come home for dinner.

"I'll eat out with some of my colleagues"

That's all he said.

And before you knew it you were heating a frozen pizza in the oven, and watching the sun disappear on the horizon through the kitchen window.

It was good that he stayed out, that's what you kept repeating in your head.

It's good that he's already getting to know his colleagues, and it's good that he's already settling in, it's perfect.

It's what you should be doing.

And yes you would have liked to spend more time with him today, but there's still tomorrow, and the day after that... there's still the rest of your life, one day certainly won't make a difference.

And it's not like you didn't enjoy the quiet, it gave you time to think, to look around the bare walls and ponder what you should fill them with.

A painting there, a mirror there, photos there... it was all coming together in your head.

The house had started to look more like a home, your home.

It was 9 pm by the time you decided to go to bed, it was early for your standards, but you'd had a long day.

He wasn't home yet.

You didn't know what time it was when you heard the front door open, but you were still awake, having tossed and turned hoping to tire yourself out for what felt like an eternity.

"hey" you murmured, once he entered the bedroom

"What are you doing up?"

"I couldn't sleep"

He only nodded, as he started undressing

"So how did it go?"

"well," he said "Everyone seems nice enough"

"I'm glad" you smiled, turning on your side to look at him better "I unboxed everything for the living room today"

"cool," he sighed, hanging his suit and walking into the bathroom.

You laid there, listening to the toilet flush and the sink being shut on and off.

He emerged from the door again and made his way into the bed.

"And the contracting guy called" you continued, as he made himself comfortable "He'll come by tomorrow"

"that's good" he breathed, turning the light off

"I told him what we wanna do and he said it shouldn't be a problem"

"yeah?" he asked, as you felt him shuffle closer to you

"Yup, he said he's done stuff like that before and he just needs to-" Your words got lost in your throat once you felt his hand travel to your chest.

"Richard?" you murmured, while his mouth moved to your shoulder and slowly up your neck.

The smell of his two hundred dollars aftershave hit your nostrils immediately.

"mh?" he hummed, letting his hand sneak down to find your ass through your shorts.

"Richard... I'm tired" you whimpered

"C'mon baby, you don't have to do anything I'll do all the work"

His hands on you felt inexplicably wrong right at that moment.

"I just-" you tried to slowly shift away from his grip "I've unpacked all day, I don't feel like it"

He emitted an audible groan "Y/n it's been like a month since you've last felt like it"

Your mouth closed as quickly as it had opened.

It was the truth, you hadn't been in the mood for a while now.

"I'm sorry, I don't know- maybe tomorrow..."

He sighed, pushing himself off of you

"Whatever"

A small gust of air sent a shiver up your spine as he got up.

"where are you going?" you asked, watching his shadow move around the room.

"I'll just watch some tv or something"

"oh- alright," your voice was so small you almost didn't sound like yourself.

He didn't seem to hear you as he closed the door behind him, casting a veil of darkness over the room.

Once again, you were alone.

You turned towards the window, the moon's soft glow split the ocean of blue in the sky, shily lighting the neighborhood.

You felt a knot in your stomach, a sudden urge to cry, but as you watched the wind glide through the leaves and trees and grass, you were able to breathe, breath with each gust, slowly willing your heart to stop racing and your eyes to dry.

There was nothing to cry about.

Everything was good, great, fantastic even.

You had the perfect life.

Everything you had ever dreamed of was right in your grasp.

You just needed time, and everything was gonna work itself out fine.

…

Next chapter

...

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moonstruck-poet · 4 months

Text

Let's Have One

Pairing - Ben Barnes x reader!

Summary - Seeing you play and bond with his sister's baby sparked a new feeling of want and love in Ben.

Warnings - none!

This one is a thank you for a hundred followers!! I love all of you sm <33

"You ready, love?" His soft voice addressed you as you finished applying some light compact powder, thus finishing your simple and elegant look.

"Yeah just done," you gave yourself a scan and smoothed down the simple blood red dress. And even with the three cups of caffeine that you had downed in the past two hours, a yawn still managed to escape.

"God I'm hopeless," you chuckled lightly, fighting the urge to rub your eyes so as to not ruin the eyeliner.

"I'm sorry," he whispered and pulled you closer by the waist. "I can see how tired you are and I can't do anything at all".

"Hey it's fine," you kissed his cheek, lingering for a while and nuzzling into his neck. "It was my fault for staying up late on that case".

"You sure you're feeling okay? No headaches or anything?"

"I'm fine," you smiled at his worried expression before grabbing his hand and leading him out of the door. "And besides it's Sarah's birthday party, I wouldn't miss it for the world, you know?"

"I know," he replied and followed you without a doubt, opening the car door like an absolute gentleman before getting in himself.

"I should've done that since I'm driving," you laughed when he shook his head.

"You open the doors for me at restaurants and I do it for cars. I think it's only fair".

The drive to the party was spent in silence, with the radio and Ben's humming being the only source of sound.

"You need to have a small holiday," he interrupted the quiet and took your free hand in his. "You're working too hard".

"I'll get one as soon as I finish this, I promise. This one's a lot more complicated than we expected so naturally it is taking more time".

"I find you absolutely cool have I ever mentioned that?" He asked with a teasing smirked on his face.

You couldn't help but laugh and smile yourself, "I think you have, indeed! For the past week or so".

"Seriously though, I still can't believe that I'm married to a crime branch officer. Who could've thought?"

"And it's beyond my understanding how I managed to snatch for myself a literal Disney prince for the record," you retorted and he grinned proudly.

You two had arrived at the destination and the car was parked quickly by your efficient hands.

As usual, he got out first and opened your door, offering a charming smile and his hand as if you were a queen.

You accepted it without a moment of hesitation and placed your palm on his cheek to give him a rather unexpected kiss, one that he immediately reciprocated.

"Goodness," he whispered to himself after you pulled away, leaving him rather breathless and following with a wink.

Ben just felt himself fall a little more in love.

As soon as you opened the doors, you were swarmed by his family members. Eveybody coming closer to greet you with enthusiasm while your husband watched from the sideline, a fond and adoring smile on his face.

"It's so good to see you sweetheart!" His mother cupped your cheeks and surveyed your face in the most motherly way possible. "You're resting well aren't you? Eating properly and getting enough sleep? He's taking care of you isn't he?" She pointed towards her son and playfully narrowed her eyes as if threatening him.

"Don't worry, Mum. He's always taking care of me," you laughed at his nervous and scared face.

"He better be," Thomas, his father patted him on the shoulder sternly before chuckling and pulling his boy in a hug.

You finally managed to extract yourself from his loving family and he joined your side a second later, straightening his blazer.

"I honestly think they love you more".

"Well, I know they love me more".

He rolled his eyes at your smirk and extended his arm which you took, placing your palm on his bicep.

"You look beautiful by the way," he muttered in you ear as you searched for an empty table. "Like breathtakingly gorgeous".

"Thank you," was all you managed to utter because the way he was looking at you made you feel all sorts of things.

"All these years and I can still make you blush huh?" He grinned knowingly while you poked and slapped his abdomen.

"Let's sit here," he pointed to one with two empty seats and you followed, settling down at last and letting out a sigh as you slipped your heels off.

His hands found their way to yours, as though it was second nature to do so. His fingers fiddled with yours, occupying his attention till the party began.

And it started soon enough with everyone standing up as the birthday girl cut her cake and both her husband and son placed a kiss on her cheeks.

"Awh," you said to yourself, a smile forming on your face at what you saw a perfect family. You wanted that too. You already had a loving husband, the only thing left now was an adorable little one.

You lips were pressed together as you looked at your man, letting your eyes rest on his sharp but smooth features.

How beautiful would it be to have a little baby, a perfect combination of yourself and someone whom you held so dear. Maybe they'd inherit his dark eyes and hair or yours, it would be beautiful either way.

How lovely would it be to see this small, tiny human being blossom into a fully mature adult with their own unique personality while also sharing some common traits.

Your heart felt heavy with love at the thought and Ben could certainly feel you planting holes in his face and he looked at you quizzically, though a smile was still there.

You shook your head, suddenly overcome with emotions as you rested your head on his shoulder, wanting to be close.

He didn't say anything and merely pulled you closer, if that was even possible while pressing a kiss to your hairline.

The celebrations were in full swing and all of the couples were currently on the dancefloor, swaying to the romantic rhythm which soon changed into an energetic beat.

"Goddamn," a breath escaped your lips as you pushed your sweaty hair out of your face. "You're quite the dancer, Barnes".

"Care for another one, my love?"

"Unfortunately though I have to decline your offer, darling. I'm quite tired," you laughed lightly and he guided you to sit on a chair.

He knelt down on the floor and touched your feet making your eyes widen as you instantly grabbed his hands.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"Shh just relax and trust me," he whispered and you watched as he undid the buckles of your heels and removed your sore feet from their tortuous clutches.

He then went forward to gently rubbing the top and sides and then moving towards the sole. The slight pressure helped immensely and you had to literally push him to get the man to stop.

"Thank you," you said into his ear once he settled down next to you, his chair close.

"Always," he murmured back and leaned down, capturing your lips in his and savouring the moment before it was broken by the party host.

Drinks and food were served once again, probably to energize the crowd for another round of crazy dancing. And Ben too had been dragged away by his many relatives, you laughing at his face that screamed 'save me from these hooligans'.

The sound was getting too loud for your rather sensitive ears so you decided to go to the more quieter areas but suddenly a loud crying stopped you in your tracks.

Pinpointing the source was easy enough and your heart dropped in your chest on seeing a toddler sitting on the grass all alone.

"Christ," you almost sprinted to the baby, recognizing him to be Louis, Ben's nephew. You sat down on your knees, offering him a smile and slowly moving closer.

"Hey Lou," you whispered, the smile still intact as you held out your palm. "You remember me, love?"

Fortunately the one-year-old had stopped crying though tears still stained his cheeks. He looked at you through wide set of eyes, his mind racing as he tried to identify.

After some time of silence you concluded that he didn't recognise you, which was fair considering you had only ever seen him twice in his life.

"Come here," you beckoned, now sitting on your heels and grinning as he raised his arms, allowing you to pick him up.

"Now what might you be doing here all alone, hmm?" You spoke softly, tucking him close to your body and finding a secluded spot in the party which didn't invite a lot of noise.

A sudden giggle was heard from him and you looked, surprised and laughing upon finding the cause. His tiny fingers had found your small butterfly necklace.

Sitting down on a chair you placed him on your lap, facing you. "Yeah that's a butterfly!" You smiled and gently wiped his moist cheeks.

"Fieee!" He grinned, his voice melting you immediately. He was an adorable boy, with blond hair and sea blue eyes.

"You wanna play a game? Let's play a game," saying so you kept him engaged for quite a long time and were entertained yourself.

"More!" He said happily, swinging his little feet as you tickled his sides making him squirm away but also lean in.

There was a tissue box kept on the table and you folded one to create a boat, an aeroplane and some simple shapes much to his excitement.

"Boat," he pointed towards the craft kept on the left and you clapped.

"Good job!" You chuckled and kissed the top of his head with every ounce of love. A wave of pride filling your chest at his correct answer.

Your shenanigans went on for another thirty minutes before Louis started yawning and rubbing his eyes.

"Someone's getting sleepy," you adjusted his position so that his face was resting comfortably on your chest and your palm was patting his back.

Ben's blazer that had been resting on your shoulders for almost the entire night was now shielding his nephew from the cold. You draped the black coat on him and it fit like a warm blanket.

"Goodnight sweetheart," you murmured and kissed his forehead before resting your cheek gently on his head.

"Nigh Nigh," he replied, eyes closed completely and one of his fist grasping on your necklace.

Looking at him sleeping so peacefully made your tired body feel dizzy as well and before you knew it, you were knocked out.

Ben Barnes on the other hand was roaming around the hall for the past ten minutes, trying to locate you amongst the crowd. He was getting agitated and couldn't help but release a sigh of relief upon seeing you.

Walking closer a small noise of surprise left him as he saw you fast asleep with his nephew resting on your chest. His heart took up its pace as he gazed at the domestic scene, his brain already creating various scenarios which depicted you and a tiny one nestled in your arms.

He swallowed, sitting down in the empty share and pulling out his phone to click a picture, knowing it would last longer.

His eyes surveyed every inch of you in that beautiful moment.

Moving from your creaseless eyelids to the small movement of your lips while you were asleep, then to the protective but gentle hold you had on the baby who was snuggling closer to your cozy figure under his own blazer making his smile widen.

"God I adore you," he said with a small chuckle, getting up to press his lips to the top of your head.

"Oh thank goodness," his sister Sarah's voice was heard from behind as she panted a little.

"What's wrong?" He stood up straight, concerned upon seeing her frazzled state.

"I left Lou with an uncle of ours and I saw the said person drunk some time ago and freaked out," she took deep breath, glad that her son was safe and sound.

He scoffed is disbelief at the carelessnes shown before turning back to you as you were rubbing you eyes and blinking rapidly, trying to move before remembering the child that was alseep too.

Ben and Sarah watched with a smile as you adjusted the coat, tucking it carefully and brushing the small strands of hair from his face.

"Oh hey," you greeted when your eyes fell upon the pair and you stood up, "He fell asleep as we were playing," you explained and handed him to his mother.

She took her son in one arm and pulled you in a warm embrace, "Thank you. I was worried sick after not seeing him," she said, shuddering slightly and you offered her a comforting smile.

"Its okay I can understand, glad to say he was in good hands," you said softly and they nodded while laughing.

"See you around then, visit soon, Ben," she hugged her cousin and bid goodbye.

"You slept well?" Your husband asked and brought you close to him while you arms went around his neck.

"Mhmm, needed that power nap".

"I've been thinking.." He began slowly making you pull away to look at his face, noticing the slightly nervous expression.

"Go on," you encouraged him, leaning ahead.

"We've been married for almost four years noe, yeah? And have been together for ever longer," he said and you nodded. "How about- How about we have a child now?"

Your eyes widened and you stilled in his arms, your heartbeat increasing with both nervousness and excitement at his declaration, "Y- You sure?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" He questioned and gently swayed you two together. "I want a future with you, my love. Have been dreaming about it for ages".

"Me too," you admitted, a small smile forming against your lips. "Seeing Lou again just increased that feeling tenfold".

"I second that. And honestly? I really want to take the next step now. I think we're ready. What'd you say?"

"I think I'm ready too".

"Well then, I supoose we should start practicing soon," he said, now a teasing smirk on his face making you blush.

"Indeed," you replied and the two of you laughed, placing your foreheads against each other and simply staring into each other's eyes, making a whole new world of promises by sharing looks.

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#ben barnes fanfiction #ben barnes x reader #ben barnes ff #benjamin thomas barnes #ben barnes #ben barnes x reader wife #ben barnes x reader fluff #ben Barnes fluff #bin bons

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greentrickster · 9 days

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@caspertheloudassghost In this universe the old peak lords all ascended right? I imagine the only reason SQH’s vacation lasted this long was due to his officials, finally giving up on understanding SQH’s organized chaos, desperately try to get his Shizun to decode it to not ruin SQH’s first vacation in two millennia. “You re-raised him right? You should know his filing system right? Right?!” (His filing system is entirely based around a version of Microsoft excel that only he can run. He knew this when he left)

XD XD XD Okay, canon on the Microsoft excel idea! But, unfortunately for the Heavenly Officials, they were not brought into being by a particularly lawful god. Meaning that, while they know that their Lord is incarnated somewhere in the world... they have no idea who, where, or even exactly why, because he told them exactly None Of That, specifically so they couldn't interfere.

Not even because they're busybodies or obnoxious coworkers, but because the Heavenly Officials are the original assistants that Airplane made for himself in this world once it got more complicated than he wanted to deal with on his own. As a result, while they're quite good at their jobs (and can manage a very respectable amount of Heaven's filing, just not anything in Airplane's personal system) and very pleasing to look at, they're also a bit clingy. Because they were made by a lonely young man who was mostly ignored by everyone around him in his first life, so who can blame him for wanting to be around people who also wanted to be around him?

Thinking about it, in a way this trip to the mortal world to be Shang Qinghua was probably at least partially for the sake of these original, highest-ranked Heavenly Officials alongside Airplane wanting to take a vacation and experience the Plot firsthand. The celestial equivalent of parents leaving their older kids in charge of the younger kids, the pets, and the house for a week while they go off on a vacation or business trip or what-have-you. A chance to test themselves a little without the person/people in charge on hand, to grow as an individual and an adult. And the Heavenly Official coming down to beg Airplane for help was the equivalent of said teens having to phone their parents five days in because the dog got into something it probably shouldn't have, and it'll probably be fine, but there is also the sudden and very real fear of "Oh gods, what if we accidentally kill the dog?" Basically a chance for them to exert some independence and grow on their own for a little, with an unexpected 'I need an adultier adult' situation popping up a decent way in.

As for SQH's ascended master, you're right, he would probably have been able to help with the filing system at least a little... if anyone had thought to show it to him. As it was, cultivators have been ascending for centuries, the Heavenly Officials have no reason to believe that this latest batch from Cang Qiong know anything more about their vacationing boss than any other human. Heck, the only reason Shang Qinghua gets found is because Shen Qingqiu sees some notes in pinyin during his ten-year check-in as to how he's settling into his new role of God of the Ninth Road (full AU here if you haven't tripped over that segment yet), and he comments on it (on the grounds that he'd been under the impression that it was just some made-up writing system his shidi had invented).

In an amusing twist, the issue that necessitated the Heavenly Officials to crack and call upon Airplane for help? Turning off Binghe's Protagonist Halo. Because the 'story' is over now, so no need for a protagonist, and it's not going to particularly nerf him or anything, just make him less center-of-attention-the-world-literally-revolves-around-me. Long term it's even going to be a good thing, because it'll allow Binghe and Shen Yuan to settle into a life together without having to deal with a new Plot Arc starting every month or two. It's for the best for everyone.

Except all the upper Officials have been through everything over a dozen times, and no one can figure out how to make it stop, Airplane left at least some instructions before he left and all the signs point to it being time to turn off the halo and he forgot to include instructions on how to do that, please don't leave out key information, your excellency-!!!

#svsss #shang qinghua #shen jiu #great god airplane #caspertheloudassghost

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therealcocoshady · 17 days

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Recovery - Chapter 34

Eminem x FemReader Fanfiction

Summary : Thanksgiving is just around the corner and Reader is planning Talia and Jamal's wedding when unexpected news happen.

Tags : Angst

TW : Mention of drug use - Mention of pregnancy

Author's Note : I hope you enjoy the chapter ❤️

Y/N’s POV

Ever since Marshall had informed you that Kim would be there for Thanksgiving, you were a little bit freaked out. However, you didn’t really bring up the topic, and neither did your boyfriend. After the conversation, you spent a few days pondering whether or not you should try and escape the situation. Not being American, Thanksgiving wasn’t important to you anyway so you wouldn’t mind skipping it or celebrating it the same way you had done since you came to the US - with Talia and Jamal.

When you moved to Detroit, you quickly befriended Talia at the beginning of the school year. You were planning on spending your first Thanksgiving in your dorm room, on your own, watching a crappy movie and eating ramen, but she wouldn’t have it and invited you to spend the day with her, her boyfriend and her family. At first, you declined the invitation but she basically forced you to go and that’s how you met Jamal, as well as Talia’s mother and her three sisters. You got along with everyone and had an official, standing invitation for every holiday, your best friend’s family being just as warm and welcoming as her. Even when you were with your ex, you spent Thanksgiving with Talia. This year would be your first time celebrating it with someone else. When you told her about the change of plans, she was happy for you but made it clear that you would be missed. To be fair, you would miss them too. You didn’t know too much about how everyone else celebrated Thanksgiving, but Talia’s family certainly made it fun : everyone would spend the day cooking together in a relaxed atmosphere, making jokes, dancing to some 80s tunes and playing board games.

You didn’t mind skipping this in order to celebrate with the man you loved, but knowing his ex-wife would be there certainly made you reconsider. However, he made it clear that he was looking forward to celebrating with you and told you how important it was for him that you be there.

It’s a family holiday, he said. We’re officially living together, it doesn’t make sense to spend it apart, Y/N. We’re family, now.

We’re still very new, you reminded him. What will your family think ?

As far as they’re concerned, you can do no wrong, he chuckled. Apparently, they’re all relieved that my grumpy ass found someone who is actually willing to put up with me. And they all know and like you already.

Except for your ex, you pointed out.

Is that what it’s really about ? He asked with a raised eyebrow.

You sighed and did not reply. Part of you thought that it was a good thing that Marshall and Kim were on friendly terms, for the sake of their daughters. It was a proof of maturity on their part and you had heard enough stories from your friends with divorced parents to know that it was actually a good thing. Everyone would like for their parents to be able to get along after a divorce. But being the partner of someone who was divorced made it a little challenging. After all, no one expected to spend a holiday with their boyfriend’s ex-wife, let alone relished the idea.

I told you it will be fine, he said as he hugged you from behind while you were doing your skincare before bed. And it’s not just her, anyway. Everyone else will be there.

Yes but she’s the only one I haven’t met yet, you said sheepishly. What if she hates me ?

Why would she hate you ? He scoffed.

Because I’m your girlfriend… Duh ?

Look, Y/N, he said as he took your hands in his. Yes, Kim is my ex, and yes, we have a long and complicated history. But any form of romantic feeling between us is long gone. There won’t be any jealousy… On her part, at least.

The end of his comment made you raise an eyebrow.

You think I’m jealous of her ? You asked.

I don’t know, he said with a smile. Are you ?

I guess not, you shrugged. I do have many questions, though.

So we’re gonna have that talk, huh ? He asked with a sigh.

Do you mind ?

No offense, babe, but even if I did… I know you well-enough to know that you’d toss and turn all night, and you'll drive yourself crazy and me as well. I love you, and I want to get some sleep tonight, so for both our sakes, let’s get this over with, he chuckled.

Thank you, you said shyly as you felt your face redden a bit.

You both sat in bed and you were nervously tugging on your nightgown, not really knowing where to start.

I don’t have all night, though, he said playfully. Just ask your damn questions, babe.

Did she sleep here ? You asked, as it was the first question that popped into your head - hell, maybe you were in her spot !

In this room or in this bed ? He asked. This is the master bedroom, so yeah, we slept here. The bed and mattress are new, though, if that’s any comfort. Next question ?

Do you miss her, sometimes ? You asked nervously.

He glanced at you and shook his head with a smile.

What kind of question is that, Y/N ? He simply asked. Really ? You’re asking me if I miss her ?

Can you blame me for wondering, though ? Everyone knows she’s the love of your life, your high-school sweetheart and stuff…

Everyone also knows that our marriages were utter failures and that we drove each other crazy, he stated with an eye roll.

So you never think about her ? You asked.

That’s a different question. Of course I think about her often.

Often ?! What the hell did he mean by that ? As he saw the expression on your face - that probably resembled that of a deer in headlights - he let out a laugh.

I told you, babe, we have a history and three daughters, he said. Of course I think about her, whether it’s something about the girls or simply memories. I can’t erase twenty-plus years from my brain, you know ? But it doesn’t mean I miss her. I used to, for sure, but I don’t. Not anymore. You can think of the good times you had with someone without missing the relationship.

I guess, you said. How do you feel about her now, then ?

I mean… She’s the mother of my children and that will never change. In that regard, I respect her, because she’s doing her best to be a good mom, too. I might not always agree with her, in fact there’s a lot of shit we disagree on, but she’s high in my esteem. Also because she put up with a lot of me and my shit, he said.

Do you have feelings for her ? You blurted out before you were able to hold back the words.

As soon as you spoke these words, he frowned and shook his head. He sighed and took your hand in his, interlocking your fingers.

I just told you I don’t miss her, he said. So no, I don’t have feelings for her. Not romantic, at least. I do have affection for her, though, in a way. I care for her and I don’t want anything bad happening to her. If she ever needs me, I’m here. I told you before - whether we like it or not, Kim and I will always be family. So I will always be there to support her.

You nodded, a bit lost in your thoughts. He pulled you in his arms and leaned in, his forehead resting against yours while his piercing blue gaze held yours.

I need you to understand something, baby, he said. Nothing I’m saying here affects the way I feel about you. Just because I care for Kim doesn’t mean I don’t love you. You are the woman I love and the one who makes me happy, and no one will change that.

Ok, you said as you nodded softly. I love you too, you know ?

And even if she did hate you, which she won’t, you’re the one person I chose to share my life with. Whether anyone likes it or not, you are my girl and they have to respect that. And I know she does, he said.

Ok, you said. Does she know that we live together here ?

She does, he nodded.

And that I’m… You know… Younger ?

Yes, that too, he chuckled. I mean, I told her about you before so she knows a couple of things. She knows your name, your age, what you do in life, part of our story and, most of all, she knows I am head over heels in love with you.

When did you tell her all that ? You asked, a bit surprised.

I talked about you on a couple of occasions, he explained. When we got together, and a couple of months after our breakup, too. We don’t speak or see each other too often, but we keep up with each other’s life.

He was smiling, which was sort of reassuring. His transparency made you feel at peace and, even though you were still a bit anxious, you eased up. You smiled back and kissed him on the cheek.

Thank you for reassuring me, you said softly. I think you got yourself a night without me tossing and turning.

Good, he chuckled. I get how weird it must be for you, you know ? But I’m sure everything will be fine. It’s just Thanksgiving.

You smiled and nuzzled his neck as he held you in his arms, tracing circles on your shoulder.

I love you, Marshall.

I love you too, Y/N. And I’m really happy we’re celebrating our first holiday together, he added.

That’s a milestone, you said.

The first of many, many more, he said with a smile before pressing a kiss to your temple.

So… What does a typical Thanksgiving look like in the Mathers household ? You asked. What should I expect ?

Just classic Thanksgiving stuff, you know ? He shrugged.

Well I only ever celebrated at Talia’s family’s, so… I don’t know, you chuckled. In my experience, it involves Talia’s mom preaching about how good God is and the blessings he gives, lots of cooking, lots of eating, board games and Talia’s sisters arguing over who Jamal prefers !

Sometimes I forget you’re not from here, he chortled. No preaching here, but lots of eating, just hanging out together, talking, watching movies, playing games… And I have my basketball tradition with Nate.

Let me guess ? You usually win ? You asked with a grin.

I lost the last one, actually, he chuckled. But I’ll definitely humiliate him this year. I have a lady to impress, I can’t lose.

If you win, I’ll give you something to look forward to, you said teasingly.

Like what ? He asked with a smirk.

Win and you’ll see, you replied with a wink.

I have an entire week left before the game, he said. Believe me, I’m going to train for victory.

You giggled and kissed him softly before turning the lights off. You were a little reassured and figured that, even though your first Thanksgiving with him would be a bit stressful, you would get to admire him all sweaty on the basketball court and that would be absolutely worth it.

In the week leading up to Thanksgiving, you were busy with wedding stuff and maid of honor duties. Talia and Jamal had yet to set a date for the wedding but that didn’t prevent your best friend from giving you tasks such as browsing ideas, looking at dress designers and searching for venues. You gladly obliged : you had sent out a few applications for jobs but you hadn’t gotten any answers yet and you were starting to get a bit bored. You would have gladly taken care of the house or garden, but there was staff hired for that and the only thing you could do to help around the house was to cook dinner for Marshall when he came back from work. You enjoyed it but it was clearly not enough to fill your days and you were starting to feel like one of those rich, bored housewives. Helping Talia with the wedding was a welcome distraction and you took the task with the utmost seriousness. You had always been a sucker for weddings and you knew full well it would be the only one you would get to organize so you decided to enjoy it. Every day after she got off from work, your friend would come to your place and your living room was soon filled with bridal magazines and moodboards for what was set to be the wedding of the century. Jamal’s work as a renowned beatmaker allowed them to have a very comfortable lifestyle and he had made clear that, whatever Talia wanted for the wedding, she would get. And she happened to have expensive taste, as well as a never-ending guest list.

I will never find a venue, she loudly complained. I either hate the places we’re looking at, or they’re simply not big enough.

You let out a sympathetic laugh. With the immense guest list they had, it was no surprise that finding a venue would be challenging. It seemed like every single person they had ever met would be invited.

We will find something, you said with a smile. Or maybe you could try and shrink the guest list ?

Jamal put you up to this, didn’t he ? She sighed. He keeps on telling me that we should keep it small. If it were up to him, we would elope…

That could be super romantic, you know, you said tentatively. I mean… How many people on your guest list do you actually keep in touch with anyway ?

I want my princess wedding, she said. You don’t know what it is. You’ll see when you get engaged !

I’m not getting married, you reminded her. Marshall doesn’t want to get married. You know it, I know it, everybody knows it.

I can’t believe you’re willing to accept that, though, she said with an eye roll. You, of all people, not getting married ?

You know I’m a sucker for weddings and all things “traditional family”, you chuckled. But I’d rather never get married and be with Marshall than the other way around. He means more to me than a dress I’d wear for a day.

You know I love Em, but I just don’t get it, she shrugged before munching on a cupcake you had baked earlier. He’s old, so I get the “not wanting kids” part. But you moved back here for him and you decided to give up on kids to be with him, so the least he could do is put a ring on it, you know ?

We just got back together, you giggled. And don’t get me wrong, if he asked for my hand, I would say yes. I mean, he is the love of my life. But he seems pretty adamant. And as long as I’m with him, I’m good, so really… Doesn’t matter.

Still… I never thought you would be ready to renounce marriage and children for any man.

You could absolutely see where Talia was coming from. You had spent countless hours talking about wedding stuff, since the two of you had met. You had actually bonded over your love of romantic movies and series and watched countless wedding-related TV shows. But you had made your choice and you understood that Marshall didn’t want that. And after all, he was right : you didn’t need to sign a piece of paper to be in a loving, committed relationship. As long as you got to experience life with him and make great memories, you were happy. And as for the fun you would have had planning your own wedding, you would live vicariously through Talia, who would be the most beautiful bride. The conversation shifted and you got back to your order of business : the wedding. You looked at venues while she took a fun break and looked at the Vera Wang website.

I’m going to be sick, Talia muttered after a while.

Come on, you chuckled. The bridal collections can’t be that bad…

No, I’m really feeling sick, she said before running to the bathroom.

You heard her puke profusely and looked at the plate of cupcakes. She had eaten about half a dozen. You had eaten a few yourself, though not nearly as much, and you were feeling fine, so you doubted that your baking was actually to blame. When she came back from the bathroom, she looked rather ill and tired.

Do you want some tea ? You offered.

Yes, please, she said in a croaky voice.

Lay on the couch, I’ll make it. Do you think you caught a stomach bug or something ?

I don’t know, she said in a small voice. Maybe it’s my period ? I’ve been waiting for it to actually come for a while.

Wait… You’re late ? You asked with a raised eyebrow.

You stared at her in disbelief and started to put two and two together. In the past days, she had complained about being tired and bloated, but you didn’t think too much of it. However, now that you knew she was late, it made you think of your own symptoms, from when you were pregnant. That’s how it had started after all : feeling tired, hungry and bloated, with a bit of morning sickness to top it off.

I can’t be pregnant, Talia said with a terrified look on her face. My mother gave me enough shit about living with Jamal before being married, she will kill me if I have a baby out of wedlock.

Maybe it’s just a false alarm. You’re using protection, right ? You asked as you tried to reassure her.

Of course, she said. I mean, except once, but what would be the odds ?

When was that ? You asked with a raised eyebrow.

Hum… The night we got engaged ? She said nervously.

You opened big eyes. The night they got engaged was the night Jamal brought condoms to your room. And doing the math, it would make sense and explain Talia’s period being quite a bit late. On some level… You were the one who stopped taking the pill after your breakup and your best friend might as well be the one who ended up pregnant. You convinced her to take a pregnancy test and the two of you ended up driving to the nearest pharmacy, buying one from every brand. When you got back home, Talia was shaking with nerves.

You’ll be fine, you said as you gave her a hug. You guys have been together for ages and you guys have talked about having kids before. You know he will be supportive.

I know but… Right before the wedding ?! She asked nervously. That was not the plan, Y/N. I wanted to look good in my dress, I wanted to show off my figure in a bikini on a Hawaiian beach for my honeymoon…

Only one way to find out, you said. Now, go and take the test !

In true bestie fashion, you sat on the tub while Talia was peeing on the stick. She handed it to you during the mandatory three minute waiting period. You had been there before and you knew damn well how she might be feeling. You held her hand and started to feel overcome with nerves, as well as many other emotions. You were probably a bad friend for this, and you would never confess to feeling this way, but deep down, you were feeling envious. You were content with your life, but some shameful part of you felt like you would have been in her place, if you hadn’t broken up with Simon. You would most likely be engaged, maybe with a rainbow baby on the way. In a way, you were envious. Of course, being with Marshall was everything you wanted and you loved him more than hypothetical plans of having kids or getting married, and Talia was more than deserving of these things, but it was stronger than you. When the alarm on your phone rang, both you and Talia took a deep breath.

I can’t look at it, she said.

You sort of have to, you pointed out. You have to know, right ?

You look at it and tell me.

You nervously took the stick and looked at it. Two lines. Positive.

You’re… pregnant, you said in a blank voice.

She gasped and looked at it herself. She freaked out and refused to believe it, trying to convince the both of you that it might be a false positive and she ended up guzzling almost a gallon of water and taking another test. Then another one. And another one. Of course, all of them had the same result : your best friend was definitely pregnant.

I’m pregnant, she said in disbelief. I’m really pregnant.

How are you feeling ? You asked.

I… I can’t believe it, she simply said. I am pregnant.

She stared at the numerous tests on the sink and put a hand on her belly. She stared at you as tears welled up in her eyes.

I’m pregnant, she repeated.

Look, if you don’t feel ready, you can absolutely…, you began.

No, she said. I think… I’m happy. I’m having a baby with the love of my life. I’m so happy.

She took you in her arms and held you tightly as she sobbed with happiness. You were emotional - for a lot of different reasons - and you felt a tear roll on your cheek. Talia was the kindest soul you had ever met and you had absolutely no doubt that she would be an amazing mother. She was already so good at taking care of people.

You’re going to be a splendid mom, you said softly. That baby is going to be so lucky.

You’re going to be the best aunt, she said emotionally.

And Jamal is going to be the greatest Dad on earth !

Oh my God, I have to tell Jamal ! She said. And my mom ? Do I call my mom ? And the wedding ?! What do I do ?!?!

You could see her go through so many emotions at once. You tried your best to reassure her and walked her through what she needed to do. First, you told her to go home and break the news to Jamal before telling anyone else. Then, she would have to make some medical appointments to ensure everything was alright with her pregnancy. As for the wedding, you assured her that, whether they wanted to elope or wait until after the baby was born, you would do your best to make sure her dreams came true and that she would have the most beautiful wedding. Whatever she needed, you would be there for her. She hugged you tight before leaving your place, making you promise that you would not tell a soul, not even Marshall.

MARSHALL’S POV

Marshall sighed in relief as he drove past the gate of his property. The past few days at the studio had been pretty rough : nothing seemed to be going right and it was starting to get on his nerves. The week had started with an artist postponing a recording and writing session they were supposed to have together, as well as a sample clearing issue. However, there was a bigger problem : whenever he wanted to write, he couldn’t bring himself to. Whenever he jotted down some ideas or words on a page, everything felt insanely corny or simply wrong. He knew that was to be expected, though : whenever his personal life was peaceful, that’s when he found it harder to write and, right now, things happened to be going great at home. Every morning, he woke up with the biggest smile on his face, happy to be with the woman he loved. She was truly amazing and he loved living with her. She was easy to get along with and she took care of him by cooking, baking and providing him with comfort whenever he needed. There was literally nothing for him to complain about and, deep down, maybe it was what was lacking. When they were broken up, he was hurting and felt like shit but at least, it was a familiar feeling. As hard as it had been, he had learned to thrive on sadness, hurt, anger and resentment. Happiness, on the other hand, felt foreign to him, especially when it was this peaceful and domestic. There was always this irrational part of him that felt like it was too good to be true and was in panic mode. When he was with Kim, this kind of calm, peace and happiness only meant a storm was coming and that he was about to be brought to his knees. Same when he was a teenager living with his mother : when things were going great, it always meant drama was coming their way. So, obviously, he had developed trust issues and always felt odd when things were going good. Of course, he loved being with Y/N and he would not have it any other way. But at the same time, he couldn’t shake the feeling of anxiety.

When he got home, he found Y/N reading yet another bridal magazine on the couch while a documentary was playing on the living room TV. He immediately joined her and pulled her in for a hug. Her presence was just what he needed. However, she seemed a bit more distracted than usual.

How was wedding planning today ? He asked as he settled and pulled her legs over his knees.

Eventful, she replied.

Really ? What happened ? Did you argue about the color of the bridesmaids dresses ? He chuckled.

No, no, she said. I mean, whatever, it’s not really interesting.

Are you alright ? He asked.

Yeah… How was your day ?

She seemed a little nervous and preoccupied, but he figured that Talia was probably to blame. Jamal’s fiancée was amazing, but she did keep Y/N busy with wedding planning and he knew that she was definitely the type to turn into a bridezilla. He told his girlfriend about his day and a meeting he had about upcoming performance dates. He was set to be a headliner for Lollapalooza, not only in the US but also in Europe and South America. He tried to focus on the positive and keep his writing struggles to himself.

How would you feel about coming with me for Lollapalooza ? He asked.

I don’t know, she shrugged.

Come on, he said with a smile. It could be fun. I don’t want to be away from you for too long. And you could also enjoy the festival, see concerts, and we could travel a bit between the performance dates and make it romantic. What do you think ?

That could be fun, she agreed. I don’t know if I’ll be free, though.

I think Talia can do without you for a little while, he chuckled.

No, I meant… From work, she corrected. In case I find something, you know ? But maybe Talia will need me too. I don’t know.

We’ll see, he said with a smile. Are you sure you’re ok ? You seem… Gloomy ?

I’m fine, she shrugged. Sorry. I guess I’m just under the weather.

You’re working too hard for this wedding, he said as he took the magazine from her hands and pulled her closer to him. Come here.

She hummed and buried her face in his neck. They cuddled in this position for a while and he started to relax. The warmth of her breath on his skin was doing a good job soothing him and making him forget about the frustrations of the day. From the day she walked into his life, she had been a peaceful presence for him and getting to come home to her in the evening was a blessing he was definitely grateful for. He enjoyed being in a bubble with her and being able to forget about the pressure of his work. They didn’t need to speak, her mere presence in the room and her touch were enough for him to be able to ease up.

I missed you today, he said as he kissed her temple.

I missed you too, she replied.

If you didn’t have that appointment tomorrow, I’d take you to work with me, he continued. I could use your hugs throughout the day.

What appointment ? She asked, seemingly confused.

Your OB/GYN appointment for your contraception. Isn’t that tomorrow ?

Oh, right, she said sheepishly. I forgot about that.

Are you ok, babe ? He asked with his eyebrows furrowed. I mean… If you don’t want to take the pill, it’s fine, we can stick to condoms.

No, no, it’s not that, she replied.

What’s wrong, then ?

Nothing, she said. Sorry. Mind if I go lie down before preparing dinner ? I don’t feel too well.

No, of course not, he said softly. Do you want me to come with you ?

Don’t worry, she said. You can stay here.

She got up and kissed his cheek before heading to their bedroom. Something definitely seemed off. Ever since they got back from Europe, she had been in a rather good mood, even considering the situation with her Dad. Now, she almost seemed depressed and he had no idea why. He decided to let her rest, figuring that she was probably just tired or that her period might be on the way. A couple of hours later, he went to see her and ask if she was hungry. She immediately offered to cook something for him, even though she didn’t plan on eating, but he told her not to bother. Y/N was laying in bed, wearing one of his tee-shirts, doom scrolling on her phone, the preoccupied look still on her face. He kissed her and went to the kitchen for a quick sandwich and a can of diet coke. When he was done, he threw his can in the trash and saw three sticks that looked all too familiar : pregnancy tests. Ever since he got back with Y/N, they’d had protected sex and, on one occasion when the condom broke, she had gotten emergency contraception. There was no way she could be pregnant. So why the hell had she taken these tests ? In a matter of seconds, his heart had started pounding in his chest. He nervously grabbed one of the tests, hoping it was negative. But there were clearly two lines. Positive. So were the two other ones. He felt terrified and dizzy. That had to be a nightmare. He could not have a baby. Not at fifty-two. Not when he had sworn that he would not have any more children. If anything, he was the last person on earth that should have kids. He loved his daughters, obviously, and even though raising them was his biggest accomplishment, it was also the hardest thing he had ever had to do. Seeing the two lines on the pregnancy tests gave him flashbacks of all the sleepless nights he’d had, tossing and turning, doubting himself and being terrified to mess things up. There was no way he would be able to do it all over again. Now that his daughters were grown-up and out of the house, he wanted to take it easy, enjoy life with Y/N and be able to do whatever he wanted. The last thing he expected was to change diapers, get up in the middle of the night and just struggle all over again. He took his face in his hands. He could not do this, and especially not with Y/N. She had not even been sober for two years. He had been there with Kim and he knew what it was like to see the mother of his children relapse and struggle with sobriety. No kid ever deserved this and he was simply not strong enough to raise a kid with another addict. Not again. He tried to pace himself but he couldn’t. He had to talk to her. He did not understand. Why hadn’t she told him she was late ? When did she take the test ? Why didn’t she tell him she was pregnant ? He had so many questions. He grabbed the sticks and walked to the bedroom to confront her.

Please tell me it’s a prank, he said as he walked in. Please tell me it’s not true. Please tell me they’re fake.

Fake what ? What prank ? She asked as she looked up. There’s no prank.

So it’s real ?! He blurted out. How long did you think you could hide this from me ?!

Hide what from you ? She asked as her eyebrows knitted.

THIS ! He yelled as he threw the pregnancy tests on the bed.

He was livid. His anxiety had simply turned to anger. The idea that she could have the audacity to pretend not to know what he was talking about was driving him crazy. Had she even taken the plan B pill ? He couldn’t think straight anymore. He felt betrayed and trapped. He could see her face change as she saw the pregnancy tests. Her face started to crumble and tears started to roll on her cheeks. But if she thought he would fall for it, she was wrong. No amount of crying would work and she was not getting away with it.

Don’t even try that shit with me, Y/N, he said coldly. You don’t get to pretend you have no idea when I’m talking about when I just found these fucking pregnancy tests. And you don’t get to cry when you’re the one who tried to hide that shit for me. What were you fucking thinking ?! Were you waiting for the legal delay for an abortion to be over ? For an ultrasound to soften me up ?!

W-What ? She asked. No, Marshall, it’s not…

What is it, huh ?! Fuck, we talked about this, we fucking broke up over this, so don’t tell me you didn’t fucking know how I feel about having kids, he continued. I’m not having another kid. Especially not with you. When you get to the doctor tomorrow, you better ask him to point you to the nearest abortion clinic !

She stared at him in shock. Her mouth was slightly open, she was still crying but she looked in disbelief. What was she thinking ? That he would jump up at the news ? He shook his head and headed to the bathroom to get ready for bed.

It’s Talia, she said. She…

Of course it’s Talia, he scoffed. Of course your stupid friend put you up to this. Do you know the number of times she told me to suck it up and agree to marriage, babies and shit and get you back ? I gotta hand it to her, she’s fucking persistent. Though I must admit I didn’t think she would put you up to this.

At this point, he wasn’t even thinking about what he was saying, just spitting his words in a spiteful way. As seconds went by, he was getting more and more worked up. He didn’t care about this pregnancy. He did not want to. He simply refused this possibility. There was no way he was having another baby. He loved Y/N but there was no way he would have a kid with her.

You’re not the first person to try this with me, you know ? He spat. I should have known better. But you’re the last person I would have expected to try and fuck me ovI-

I’M NOT PREGNANT ! Y/N finally yelled before throwing the tests back in his face.

You’re not ?! He asked in disbelief. Whose fucking tests are they then ?!

TALIA’S ! TALIA IS PREGNANT, YOU ASSHOLE ! NOT ME !

He felt a sudden wave of relief wash over him. He didn’t realize he needed to breathe that much, but it felt like he had a whole bottle of oxygen poured into his lungs. He felt at least thirty pounds lighter. Y/N, on the other hand, looked absolutely livid. And why wouldn’t she ? He realized he had basically insulted her, blinded by anger. As his mind got a little clearer, he recognized he might have gone a little overboard.

Thank God, he sighed. Babe, I…

Cut it, she said as she got up from bed and started to leave the room.

Wait, he pleaded as he grabbed her arm.

She jerked her arm and groaned before going to the corridor. He followed her, trying to apologize and get her to talk to him.

Y/N, I’m sorry, he said sheepishly.

Please, she scoffed. You’re not sorry.

I am, he assured her. Nerves got the best of me. I’m really sorry.

Well, at least I got to know what you really think of me, she said.

Where are you going ? He asked as she went down the stairs.

On the couch. I don’t know about you, but I usually don’t sleep in the same room as people who think I am capable of betraying them, she spat.

I didn’t say that, he defended himself knowing full well he had, indeed, said that.

You did, Marshall, she said coldly. You literally said I tried to fuck you over. And not only do you think I am a terrible person, you also insulted my best friend.

You’re not sleeping in the living room, it’s stupid, he said.

Well I would have appreciated waiting until tomorrow to gather my things and figure out my next move, she pointed out.

Your next… Y-You want to… leave ?!

She did not answer. She only shrugged. Her demeanor and gaze were cold. She was clearly pissed, understandably so. But… Leaving ? She couldn’t leave him. He couldn’t lose her. He had promised to himself he would do everything in his power not to. The idea of her leaving put him in a state of panic and brought him back to their breakup, to that fateful Saturday morning, over pancakes, about seven or eight months ago.

You can’t leave.

Why should I stay ?! She spat. Why should I stay with someone who thinks I am capable of betraying them ?

I didn’t mean that, he pleaded. I panicked, I’m sorry. Babe, I love you. I know you’d never… Fuck, I… Don’t leave me. Please.

Let’s be clear, she said as she looked at him dead in the eyes. The only reason I’m still standing here is because my best friend is telling her future husband that they’re having a child and there is no way in hell I’m ruining that moment for her. Otherwise, I’d be over there and back in my old room already.

Don’t do this, he said on the verge of tears. Please don’t leave me. I just… You seemed a little off, today, and you said it had been eventful, and when I saw the tests, I… I don’t know, I panicked.

The reason I was off is because my best friend just told me she was pregnant, you dumbass ! She yelled. I was off because I had to stand in my own bathroom and hold these fucking pregnancy tests and see that they were positive and they’re not mine !

She was starting to cry again. She mumbled something in French and went to the living room, as he followed in her step. She sat on the couch and brought her knees to her chin. He stood there, watching her.

Just leave, she said.

No, he replied. I want to talk about it. I want to make things right between us. I’m so sorry…

You want to talk ? Let’s talk then, she said sarcastically. You said you’re not having another kid, especially not with me. What was that ?

I just don’t want more kids, he said evasively. I’m in my fifties, I’ve had three daughters, I don’t want more.

I know that, she said as she rolled her eyes. And I respect that. But answer the damn question, Marshall. What did you mean about me ?!

It doesn’t matter, he pleaded. It really doesn’t. You don’t want a kid, do you ?!

Believe me, the last thing on my wish list is to have a baby, especially with you, she replied.

Then it doesn’t matter, he simply said. I was out of line, I shouldn’t have accused you and I’m sorry. Let’s go to bed, I’ll make it up to you.

Just say it, she said firmly. If you don’t, I swear to God, I’m packing a suitcase, calling a cab and booking a hotel room.

I meant addicts like us don’t get to make that kind of mistakes, Y/N, he sighed. Addicts are shitty parents. I should know.

Wow, she simply scoffed.

She was staring at him with a look of both pain and disdain. He had obviously struck a chord. She closed her eyes and sighed.

Why do you even bother with me ? She questioned. Why did you take me back ?

What do you mean ? He asked nervously. I love you, I want to be with you.

Why would you want to be with someone who you obviously think is not good enough ?! That’s just stupid, she pointed out. Why bother ?

What ?! No, Y/N, I don’t… Of course you’re good enough.

You know, I’m fine with your choices, she said with a hint of sadness. I respect that you’re done with marriage, and that you’re done with having kids. But you thinking I shouldn’t get to have children ? That fucking hurts.

I’m sorry…

STOP ! She screamed. You’re not sorry. I was ready to renounce having kids. Because I love you more than any unborn child. But do you even realize how much it hurts to know that if I had actually gotten accidentally pregnant, the person I sacrificed everything to be with would not support me ?!

He felt his heart strain a little. Seeing the pain on her face made him feel like the worst asshole in the world. To be fair, if she had actually been pregnant, he would have supported her. Sure, he thought abortion would be a better option, but he would never force her. If they had been in that situation - and thank God they weren’t - he would have stood by her side and supported her to the best of his abilities. He had simply been mean and stupid. Once again, anger had gotten the best of him.

I would have been there, he said. Of course I would have been. I love you, Y/N.

But you think I would be a shitty mom, she pointed out.

I’ve seen addiction ruin families, he explained. It certainly ruined mine, in more ways than one.

You still think of me as an addict, don’t you ? She asked on the verge of tears. No matter how long I can stay sober, you think I can’t be trusted ever again ?

I-I don’t know, he replied honestly. In my book, an addict is an addict. I still think of myself as an addict. It doesn’t mean people can’t improve or recover but… It’s tricky. But I love you. I love you more than life itself, baby.

She looked at him and simply shrugged. No matter what he said, he got the feeling that it would not matter much. He hated that angry side of himself. It wasn’t the first time that his anger got the best of him and ruined everything. He had been to therapy for his anger for years but, right when he thought he had made progress, it had to come and bite him in the ass once again.

Please talk to me, he begged. Please say something.

I have my appointment tomorrow morning, she simply said. I’ll pack my things when I get back. I will be out of here by the time you get back from work tomorrow.

#eminem #marshall mathers #slim shady #eminem fanfiction #recovery fanfiction #eminem x reader #eminem fluff #eminem imagine #marshall mathers imagine #marshall mathers x reader #Eminem angst

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utilitycaster · 1 month

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1. Why do you like or dislike this character? - Percy and/or Keyleth?

I like both of them, so:

I like Percy for the surface reasons of intelligence and witty comebacks and the general Taliesin Jaffe Arrogant Guy Is Confidently Wrong About Many Things reasons, but more specifically I like how incredibly aware he is of social structures and doesn't dismiss them as stupid or fake or meaningless just because he is aware how much artifice is involved. I love how much he validates Vex in this, as someone who's been on the other side of that social divide most of her life and who knows she "shouldn't" care but does, deeply. It would be so easy for him to say "look, titles are stupid and fake, I should know, I have one," but instead he says "no, I see what this means to you, because yes it's all an accident of birth and yes it is kind of stupid and fake, but it's also the reason why you lived rough for your teens and early 20s, and you are not silly for wanting this security." I also think he's a great exploration of guilt and of someone who has a lot of complicated feelings from the gods but does value their counsel; we don't get a lot of characters with that sort of nuance. His scene with the Raven Queen remains a standout for me and for all he can be melodramatic and obnoxious at times, he is also like 25, traumatized, and should be at the club. I think the question he answers (why would someone invent the gun) is an interesting one, and I think the way that his story ends up with the obvious inevitable happening and yet he still finds happiness is unexpected and wonderful to see.

I like Keyleth for a lot of reasons people will probably be annoyed about, which is...she is annoying. Annoying women: may we know them, may we be them, and may we raise them. Anyway, I think her terror of doing the wrong thing at the cost of doing anything sets up a fantastic arc for someone who is expected to become a leader. I admire how she knows she's not the most eloquent and is scared of her responsibilities but does not back down from speaking up when she disagrees with the party. I like how she's perhaps the only example of lifespan angst that is actually portrayed as making a lot of sense, especially since she is also extremely young (probably shouldn't be at the club given the bar crawling results. She should be at ZooLights and have like, one cider.) I think in general her fears are incredibly real and make sense for the character and shape her, and that's not something you see portrayed with this amount of depth very often. I stuck with the VM-era portrayal of Percy but I will say I especially love how Keyleth is portrayed in Campaign 3, because Percy hasn't changed a ton in adulthood, merely mellowed out a little, but Keyleth very much has as she's grown in confidence, as she was only at the beginning of that during the Campaign. I think her relationship with Vax is incredibly good for both of them; her sense of belonging to a place and his ability to support. I do like that she gets angry, especially after so much time being insecure, but I feel much has been made of her anger and I don't have a ton to add there, and also while I like that she is angry and expresses it, there are other characters I gravitate to for that specifically. Also I have incredible respect for her having to take on a much bigger magical burden than expected; I have said this before but my longest-running character was in a campaign where the player playing sorcerer switched to ranger, and the cleric left, leaving me as the only full caster and primary healer (though thankfully we got a baller paladin shortly after). The fact that Keyleth had to, and could, be whatever the party needed mechanically was a godsend. I know VM died a lot but they would have died like 20 times more without her and Scanlan and especially without her.

#answered #essayofthoughts #cr tag #*bad percy fan voice* i don't actually care about his mechanics very much. i mean big damage is fun and i love an action surge #but i have never been able to give a damn about dps

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v3nusxsky · 9 months

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Hey!! I have a Lady Lesso request ❤️

Female reader and Lady Lesso have an exclusive D/s relationship. Reader is her submissive, not her gf and etc

Reader has feelings for her, but doesn’t talk about it cuz she’s too afraid to lose what she already has with Lesso

But something happened with reader (you choose, it can be the death of a family member/friend, depression etc), Lady Lesso notices there’s something wrong with reader and confortes her and makes reader feel cared for and better

Basically a mix between smut (BDSM obviously), angst and fluff LMAO

Also, if you’re willing to can you make it LONG? I really love your writing ❤️

Complicated| mixed

*Authors note~ gosh my requests are really clocking up rn so I'm doing my best to get through them guys! I'm so sorry it's taken so long really the next few months are hella hectic for me. Kinda changed it slightly to g!p but you could imagine it as an enchanted strap*

Trigger warnings~ dom/sub non romantic, g!p lesso 🤭 r has depression triggered by family abuse as a kid sh daddy leo praise degradation punishments, free use r somnophillia mentioned voice kink, bondage

Prompt~ see ask^^^^

✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿

Bumping into Leonora at the cafe was the most unexpected yet magical thing you have ever experienced in this dull life. Something about the woman had you captivated, and no it wasn't just her extraordinary success in the legal word. Safe to say you caught her attention too, that's how she ended up slipping you her business card with two words scrawled beautifully across it, "call me" you weren't going to do it, after all it could've been a joke or perhaps you had imagined it all but the card sat in your wallet like a glowing reminder. She'd instructed you to call her and life seemed to push you towards doing so which is how you found yourself entering this agreement.

One small call ended up with you signing a contract with all the contents of being her submissive. Life had to be messing with you now, but then again it was about time you got something good in your life right? Leonora made it very clear that you could end the contract at any point like she could, strictly sex and nothing else but after care would always be given. She asked for details on your limits and hard nos she instructed you to choose a safe word and ensured you would want for nothing as her submissive and all you had to do was be at her beck and call. Easy right?

It was for the first six months, in those months you looked forward to the calls and texts from your dominant. Most of the time she sent a driver to come and bring you to her office, on the rare occasion you were called to her mansion where she would already be waiting in her play room, selecting out the toys she wished to use. Most of your punishments were carried out here as it was more of a practical clean up. You quickly learned that once after care was complete you were sent on your way, marked, sore and left with the beautiful memories of your time with her.

Some of your favourite encounters with her was the very very rare occasion you passed out in her bed and woke up to her girthy dick sheathed into your soaking cunt. Cock warming her until she was ready to use you again. Truly you were nothing more than her pretty little whore to use whenever she saw fit and that was something you'd began to like probably more than you should. Like wouldn't be the correct wording of course, you found yourself catching feelings for the red head but out of fear of losing the daddy dominant submissive relationship you have you decided it would be best to keep quiet. After all having her like this was better than not ever having her again. The idea of losing Leonora made your heart clench painfully.

You were a fairly good submissive really, only earning a few punishments here and there when you saw how stressed she was knowing it would help her relax, her favourite form of punishment was to edge you while you sat pretty of her dick warning it up for her to roughly fuck your throat until your make up trailed down your cheeks leaving you a needy mess in which she may even throw you over her lap and spank your pretty ass till it's all red. And yet you took it al like the good girl you are for her.

Leonora didn't truly realise her own feelings for you until she called for you and you never came. The disappointment and worry sat in her stomach like a rock leaving her more agitated as the hours trickled on. How could you not answer when she had summons you to! That went against the rules and the contract. You'd never broken a rule like this since the beginning, sure you could be a brat sometimes, but nothing unmanageable, truly you loved being her good girl so none of this made any form of sense to her now. Immediately, her mind jumped to the worst conclusions and that's where she decided being the head of her own firm got her privileges of her own, so she picked up what she needed and immediately set out to find you, first stop your apartment.

Leonora is a creature of habit, so it's to no ones surprise that she's had the same driver for years so he was absolutely use to ignoring what happened in the back of the car. Despite that he couldn't ignore the worried state of the normally stoic woman. "Ma'am? Are you alright?" He tentatively wondered out loud but was quickly met with the slamming of the divider in a response. Clearly Leonora wasn't in the mood for talking.

The car hardly came to a stop before the angry redhead was out and racing to the doors to find you. She wasn't exactly expecting to see your apartment absolutely trashed to high hell, which seemed very unlike what she had imagined, not only that there was shards of glass and some held a dried crimson tint. Immediately she began to panic and call for you, your submissive title, your name and even a love or darling may have slipped from her lips.

Finding you was the worst moment in her entire existence. Laid on your bed your arm littered in fresh bleeding cuts as you drifted in and out of consciousness. You skin seemed paler than before your hair knotted and tangled, the baggy shirt seemingly falling off your frame. How on earth could she have missed this?!

"Y/n?, my love please wake up darling" she demanded coming to apply pressure to the self inflicted wounds, wincing at your blood now staining her hands. "Let me go" you weakly mumbled trying to turn away from her. "No! Y/n ad your daddy I won't let you go! You're mine!" She all but snarled using her playing voice which seemed to trigger an innate response in your mind. "Leonora" you gasped in shock trying to rush to sit up, eyes darting around your depression room, "It's normally tidy I swear! Oh my gosh I'm so sorry daddy give me five minutes and I'll be ready for you!" You mumbled trying to stand up despite the wave of dizziness and her hands applying pressure to the wounds. "We aren't going to play right now darling, sit."

You sat back down, her tone leaving no room for arguments but her eyes somehow seeming softer than you've ever seen before. "Now, while I clean and bandage these, darling I demand you tell me what's been going on." You did as you were told of course, starting from the very beginning of your rough childhood and right up to the present day where you explained you'd been triggered off by a family visit, one of which they took great pride of telling you how worthless and unlovable you are. Hell one of your brothers even told you, "to earn money you may as well stand on the corner of the street, don't forget a bag over your face though otherwise no one will wanna touch you." You remember how they made you feel like you don't fit in there, like no matter how hard you try you just don't belong in their fancy world.

Leonora made sure you lived comfortably as per the contact so to hear such horrid words about the clothes and things she brought you just to see a small smile on her submissive before railing you into next week hurt. Leonora finished her work, satisfied they were properly taken care of before somehow producing the contract from her blazer pocket. "You see this darling?" She asked gaining your attention before tearing it apart. "Gone. No rules to stop me saying this. I love you Y/n truly I think I always have since that day in the cafe, I just wasn't ready to admit that I loved someone so beautiful. I'm setting you free Y/n to follow your heart, but never forget how I will always love you darling."

She loved you? Crazy. Insane. Unrealistic. But true. And by the way you slammed your lips onto her own she could tell that you love her too. So there was no need for contracts of deals when you both held love for each other. She could dote on you, spoil you, cuddle you and make love to you. You'd never feel this level of pain again, not on her watch. Your happiness will always come first. And she silently promised herself that she'd never leave you this long to check on you. Pulling away from your lips she moved to kiss each area of your bandaged arm, "you my darling girl, are so loved and worthy and I never want to see you hurting. Next time you come to daddy okay? I can help you my sweet girl."

It would take some time to navigate this new dimension to your relationship but none either one of you'd ever regret. Leonora was happy to take on you as her lover and her submissive and you soon found out you liked every side of the red head. The daddy dominant, the gentle lover and most of all your kickass lawyer of a soulmate. Life would finally look up for you and you couldn't wait.

Word count~ 1759

#anon answered #v3nusxsky answers #fanfic #anon requested #lady lesso #sfgae #leonora lesso #lady lesso x reader #lesso x reader #lesso x reader smut #lady lesso x you #leonora lesso x reader #lady leonora lesso #lady leonora lesso x reader #g!p leonora #dean of evil #dean of evil smut #dean of evil x reader #tsfgae

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oathkeeperoxas · 11 months

Text

TOP GUN / Icemav fic recs

After recently bingeing so so many fics in the TOP GUN and specifically the icemav tag, I bring to you all a selection of some of the finest below. Many many more are so very good, but there’s only so much I can fit in one post, so I’ve tried not to duplicate authors. If they’re on here, please check out an author’s profile and also give their other works some love!

The Next Step https://archiveofourown.org/works/4229682 by thedevilchicken

When he takes a job as an instructor, Maverick has issues to deal with. Ice shouldn't be the one to help him.

Posted in 2004!! Icemav shippers are the real ones, this fic has layers of guilt and grief and shower sex and complicated relationships and is so so so chewy.

Twice the Speed of Life https://archiveofourown.org/works/39694146/chapters/99373488 by Winterotter

Maverick spends the weekend with Iceman after training Rooster and the rest of his Top Gun class, and things take an unexpected turn. An AU set after the events of Top Gun: Maverick. Beware spoilers for the new movie in this fic.

Icemav get together after the events of TGM what can I say but yes. Ice’s trauma and PTSD is handled so well, and the way that Mav and Ice are FRIENDS has just. It’s got me. I love when they are friends with each other as well as loving each other 🥺

Fire or Clear https://archiveofourown.org/works/21742234 by weshes

Ice peeled his shades off and looked at Mav, and the smirk grew just a tiny bit. "You've got a little something on your face." He gestured to his own face, the side of which was perfect and unbruised, unlike Mav's. He knew this from a long, wincing examination in the mirror that morning. But at least his eye was open and working now, and he could roll it at Ice, so small mercies.

HURT COMFORT MY BELOVED!!!! Again, Icemav are such FRIENDS here and I love that for them, the hurt/comfort goes both ways and is so delicious, oh and the sex is hot af too

A Shared Cup https://archiveofourown.org/works/24314623 by @susiecarter

It was only a training exercise. It was only supposed to be a training exercise.

Literal agony trying to choose just one fic from this author when they’re so so so good. Reccing this one as I've already rec'd the (incredible, amazing) gift I received from this author!! This is rivals to lovers, accidental soulbond, telepathic sex… what else could you want from a fic. The accidental soulbond and the way it shows how focused Ice and Mav are on each other even in the beginning of their time together at TOP GUN ohhhholyyyy shit. Yeah that’s the good stuff

Lead Me On (To The Other Side) https://archiveofourown.org/works/20485757 by @boasamishipper

Goose talked to him most nights. His choice of conversation was normal — movies he’d seen, music he liked, stories about his wife and son — and sometimes Ice almost forgot that Goose was dead at all.

Ghost!Goose acts as icemav's matchmaker. Cracky premise, heartbreakingly amazing fic.

Walking into the sky https://archiveofourown.org/works/44164918/chapters/111057325 by @kerbyfullyloaded

Pete Mitchell was fourteen when his daemon settled. It took him a few years to join her in the sky, wings on his chest and steel all around him.

Daemon AU fuck yes!!! The daemon and human interactions here are sooooo much, the way they add so much flavour to the retelling of the og Top Gun is so very very good!!!

Dreams of Impact https://archiveofourown.org/works/42588693/chapters/106977687 by @icemankazansky

Maverick's trip in Darkstar takes him further than he ever imagined possible.

Another author which was almost impossible to choose just one fic from. This dimension hopping story about how Maverick’s flight in the Darkstar shows him what could have happened if things went a little differently in the 90s blew my socks off!

All In https://archiveofourown.org/works/19849111 by @icemankazansky

An A/B/O retelling of Top Gun. Maverick, an alpha, meets Ice, an omega, at TOPGUN, and knows instantly they're mates. Then there are complications.

I had to include this series because omega!Ice has me by the throat I will NOT lie… the little moments throughout this make my head spin, they are so in love!!!

Like a thursday https://archiveofourown.org/works/23324872 by @academicgangster

Hey, you get dumped or somethin'? I won't tell.

When I say I cried. This was written pre-TGM release and has MCD, but is written so heart breakingly perfectly because of it.

Am I your baby tonight? https://archiveofourown.org/works/46775455 by jiangwanyinsimp

Five times Iceman thought Maverick was sweet-talking him but it was one of their vehicles, and one time Maverick actually was sweet-talking him. Or, a glimpse into thirty years of marriage.

Soft, sweet, perfect.

Vortex https://archiveofourown.org/works/28000056 by @m-madeleine

Ice loses his ring, Maverick finds it. Things get interesting.

The complicated relationship and the back and forth here!!!! So much going on!!!!

Honey Lungs https://archiveofourown.org/works/43471734 by ReformedTsundere

"Did you want a drag?" Maverick's eyes snap up to Ice's and he sees a crease of confusion there, probably trying to work out why Maverick had been staring so intently at his lips. Even though Maverick is sure he's said he doesn't smoke before, saying no would only inspire more questions, so Maverick swallows instead and tries to smile. "Sure."

Well you see. The thing is, I am not immune to icemav smoking.

When We Get Around to Talking About It https://archiveofourown.org/works/41275461/chapters/103487754 by @compacflt

Goose has been dead for a week and a half when Iceman loses his first wingman in a dogfight with six Soviet MiGs over the Sea of Okhotsk. Goose has been dead for thirty years when Iceman loses his second wingman to a surface-to-air missile on the tail-end of a mission he's responsible for: he's sent his family on a suicide mission to destroy a uranium enrichment facility in Siberia. This is the story of those thirty years in the middle. (Or: Tom Kazansky rises through the ranks while trying to stay a good man. If he ever was one to begin with.)

I can’t have an icemav rec list without including this fic, THE icemav fic of all time!!!! I adore slice of life, definitely my favourite genre, so getting 30 years of icemav development and love and ups and downs written as perfectly as they are here obviously catapulted this up into being my fav icemav fic. Please give it (and the sequels) some love!!

#when i say i could literally make 20 of these rec lists I am not joking. so so many good fics out there!!!!#icemav #top gun #top gun maverick #fic rec #rec list #tg #curated for adi and definitely the best way i could have spent my wednesday morning

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netherworldpost · 6 months

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"Say, your advertising your project's existence was just a little zine, wasn't he?"

I will never advocate being anything less than professional with Staff. Raging user at social media network is not effective or good for anyone.

A(n alleged) decrease of commitment on their part to a platform I am committed to is not a comfortable position

Ultimately, they are treating this like a business decision, which is fair

So am I. We both have an equal right to self preservation and project growth.

Here is an outline post on how to make zines in the thought line of "I run a small widget and I want people to remember I exist."

It's not for everyone, it's not the only solution, it's not perfect, it's not a one-size-fits-all. You'll have to modify it.

MY PLAN

My current numbers as of this writing is to produce a small zine using 1 sheet of paper on a custom-printed envelope and mailed to customers once a month.

Retail price will be $10/year, production cost per customer is just shy of $14/year, so each sign up costs the company $4/year (about $0.33/month).

Free shipping (simplifies things)

Billed 1 year at a time. Payment processing has a floor of $0.30, costs would be destroyed if we handled it monthly.

No auto-renew. This easily could become an experiential nightmare for customers and us as a shop. Reminders will be included during the last few months.

1 sheet of paper cut in half and folded in half stapled into a zine. Very limited space. Fun, bright, we can produce it quickly in-house. Small so it doesn't create a project backlog.

For us: this project is not to make money.

It is to remind folks we exist when they remember "oh hey Someone's Birthday is coming up, I should get a card from Netherworld Post Office. Maybe a few labels to decorate the envelope, a sticker or two for my water bottle."

From past experience, a handful-percent of customers on this kind of system will make the entire system profitable, annually.

The rest will enjoy it tremendously, which pays dividends in unexpected and myriad ways. Word of mouth of mouth of mouth of mouth of mouth (etc.)

Ultimately: the risk is brutally small.

YOUR PLAN

Can be whatever you want.

Part of the reason my costs are so high is because I want custom printed envelopes. If I got blank envelopes then rubber stamped them, I would save about 25%

But. I explicitly want crisply printed multi-colored envelopes

(because we are going to sell envelopes in time, so it's a continual proof of production in terms of what we can do)

You could also charge some or all shipping. Or raise the price. (Or not do any of this!)

There is a pin company in Canada that sends me a reminder every six months or so that they exist and like clockwork I buy a packet of pins and stickers. Not every reminder, probably 2-3 times every 3-4 years.

Same idea.

Some folks will prefer email newsletters -- which they don't pay for, that's great, we offer that too.

Online advertising exists. It can be cheap. It is always at least medium-level complicated.

Moving into the woods and saying "no social media networks for this biz!" is not practical (or us and for many)

Rebooting an audience every 5-10 years on a different network is not practical

I HOPE TUMBLR OUTLIVES ME

It is my sincere and legitimate hope that this site continues, grows, evolves, strengthens. For both personal and professional reasons.

I similarly recognize that my goals and theirs may not continue to align forever -- and that's far more my problem than theirs.

Here is the zine guide link from the beginning.

Here is our shop's landing page with newsletter signup for when we launch.

Good luck everyone (staff explicitly included in "everyone")

#zine #tumblr #small business #small business marketing #small business advertising

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rhysdarbinizedarby · 7 months

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“I Love Taking Risks”

Returning for the second season of his hit comedy series Our Flag Means Death this month, Rhys Darby chats to us about becoming ‘The Gentleman Pirate’.

It was the surprise hit of 2022 no-one had on their bingo card. Loosely based on the real-life exploits of Stede ‘The Gentleman Pirate’ Bonnet (Rhys Darby), Our Flag Means Death tells the hilarious and heartfelt story of the wealthy Barbadian landowner who gave it all up for life as a pirate in the 1700s.

After encountering the actually not-so-terrifying Blackbeard (Taika Waititi) of legend, who teaches him how to be a fearsome pirate – to little effect – in exchange for wisdom about the finer things in life, the two formed an unexpected romantic connection.

Of course, with the first season ending with the pair sadly going their separate ways, creator and writer David Jenkins previews things will be challenging for our star-crossed lovers in season two: “I think [we’ll be] watching… both reorient themselves. This is their first love… You’re rocked when that happens. You go into a crisis.” With the second season premiering this month, picking up a short time after the first, Darby sat down with FOXTEL magazine to give us the lowdown.

What’s your take on ‘The Gentleman Pirate’?

It’s an interesting role because this is a guy who has a midlife crisis, leaves his wife and kids, just runs out in the middle of the night and creates a pirate crew, heads off into the sunset. And in order to sort of get to grips with who would do that, you need to have someone play the role that you’ve got to root for but, at the same time, you go, ‘Is he crazy? Why has he done this? Does he not love his wife and kids?’ So, you know, I did a bit of reading about him and tried to get into that mindset as to why he would do such a thing. And I think what I got to was just midlife crisis and boredom, and he had the wealth to change his life.

Are you a risk-taker yourself?

I love taking risks; I could drop everything and suddenly fly to Mars, but I’d be sitting in the spaceship before launch and thinking about my kids and I would have opened the door and run back to them.

So there was something there, some deep-seated darkness in his soul that led him to that point. He’s a complicated guy. I’m glad I had to rise to the challenge and try to pull that off.

Will Stede ever be respected by his crew, do you think?

Yes. I think he will be. People did respect him eventually because he did become a decent pirate. If you look in the annals of the pirates and all the booty they took, there’s lists of who did the best and all that kind of stuff, and Stede’s up there.

Do you think he had any regrets about choosing that life in the end?

That’s a good question. If I was to guess I would say no, because he wanted the adventure. He regretted, in the end, not taking the pardon when he could have – the King put out a pardon and he said, ‘If any of you pirates come in and drop your swords now, you’ll be spared.’ A lot of them did sign that they would do it and then just went back to pirating.

Even in the end, Stede tried to get out of it – he really begged and pleaded and wrote letters to the King saying, ‘Please, I’ll do anything.’ But they wanted to make an example of him: it doesn’t matter how wealthy you are, you do what you did, you’re gonna hang. So they got him in the end. But they won’t get me!

You seem to have a knack for picking great roles. What does your process entail?

Yeah, it depends what you’re doing. You know, I’m not at a point where offers are rolling in left, right and centre. So you still do things because you need the money. But I’ve been lucky that my uniqueness has only really gifted me roles that suit me, for the most part. Usually they’re smaller roles and I do a lot of guest starring on comedy shows. Also, I have been lucky enough to do a lot of voicework through various animation channels and video games and things.

A few years ago, people started to realise that, and it’s through working with Taika and a few others in the comedy industry, that if you’re going to hire me, he’s going to give you a bit more than what’s on the paper. And he’s going to do it in his manner and his way, and that’s what you’re sort of paying for.

And so that meant that I wouldn’t get a lot of roles, but the ones that I did do, I would always shine in. So thank you, universe, for giving me anything.

Source: Foxtel Magazine Australia (October issue)

#rhys darby #taika waititi #ofmd #our flag means death #ofmd s2 spoilers #foxtel australia #foxtel magazine

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tojiscumdumpster · 4 months

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CHAPTER TWO - READER

⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀✧ summary page

Last night felt… good. Well, with the exceptions of that loser creep that keeps bothering me, it was good. Refreshing, to be exact. Thanks to a certain someone, I won’t have to worry about that perv anymore. And now, my mind will be onto other things when I go to the bar.

Toji Fushiguro.

I almost didn’t go out since it was Sunday. Usually, I keep that day reserved to relax and prepare lessons for my students. However, I decided to take a break. I’m thirty years old, and although I love my career, I dedicate a little bit too much time to it. For once, I wanted to live a little.

And I haven’t felt that rush through my veins in a while until those two hours I spent with Toji.

There’s something about his demeanor that immediately made me attracted to him. His presence screams confidence in a humble yet arrogant way. How he talks with charm unintentionally is calming.

I just admire how our conversation flowed well. Never a moment of silence. I listened to him, and he listened to me. The touch of vulnerability he showed me was unexpected, but it showed his comfort.

It didn’t feel like that was our first conversation either. It sounds silly, and I can’t put my finger on it, however, Toji feels… familiar.

The chemistry. The flow of us talking… Why didn’t he feel like a stranger?

And when he kissed me? I never thought I had that much strength.

I wanted Toji to fuck me so badly, and I know he would take care of me good. Those calloused hands that gripped my ass while kissing me, made me wet beyond measure.

Fuck it being a school night, or even if we didn’t leave so late, I would’ve been jumping on his cock last night. Maybe I should’ve allowed him to have his way with me in the bathroom at the bar.

It didn’t take long to realize we were sexually attracted to each other. It’s just the kiss solidified it.

Toji gives me rough yet passionate lover vibes. He would pull me by my coils, fuck me from behind and call me his good girl…

Y/N, why are you so damn responsible?

I honestly don’t know. The unhinged thing to do would be to let Toji come over to have sex. But I’m still trying to open up my shell a bit, especially after my recent engagement.

Well, ex-engagement.

Part of me feeling alive again was to do something that would help get my mind off my ex-fiancé that’s currently in front of me presenting a budget plan to me and the rest of the teachers.

“So, for this academic year, we’re looking to…” I fade out the voice of Nanami Kento.

Actually, Principal Nanami.

My relationship with my ex-fiancé, who’s also my boss, is… complicated, to say the least. We didn’t end on bad terms, but we didn’t end on good terms either.

We were together for five years, engaged for a year until I broke things off four months ago. Our arguing increased, which is normal in a relationship. However, it’s what we were going back and forth about that I was getting tired of.

Nanami (because I refuse to call him something as familiar as Ken) makes me look like an idler compared to his workaholic personality. And it wasn’t always like that.

Our relationship was perfect in the beginning. Fairy tale like. We would go on vacation, dates, road trips, and so much more. But as years passed, I truly believe he got comfortable.

It’s like he was burnt out from all the fun we had, and I blame that because of work.

I’m a teacher. He’s a principal. I have my fair share of demands being a teacher, but I know Nanami being a principal is far worse. Having to look over students, teachers, other staff members, constantly attend conventions on the behalf of the school—it took up a lot of his time.

A lot of his personal time.

It meddled into our relationship. I was tired of doing things alone. Tired of not feeling loved and appreciated. Tired of fucking not getting any sexual pleasure from him.

And don’t get me wrong, sex with Nanami was amazing. It’s just we only had it once every blue moon. There’s certain things a vibrator can’t do that he’s an expert at.

So a few days before our fourth anniversary (I know that’s shitty), I decided to break up with him. Let’s just say Nanami wasn’t having it.

Again, we argued. Some tears were shed, but the night ended with a proposal and a promise to change.

Too bad that promise was made with emptiness. We lasted about two months before he went right back to his workaholic ways. I was over it at that point.

Now here we are, months later where I try to avoid him as much as possible like he’s a plague.

It’s kind of hard to do that when these meetings are held at the beginning and end of every month.

“Any questions before we conclude the meeting?” he asks.

Nanami looks around for a response, eyes stopping at me. He tries to give me a small smile, but I look away.

He continues, “Okay. That’ll be all. Don’t hesitate to follow up with me if you all have any questions, concerns, or suggestions. I’ll be sure to take them down to pass along to the superintendents.”

After Nanami dismisses us, I quickly gather my belongings to head to my classroom, but he stops me the minute I’m at the tip of the door.

“Miss L /N. May I have a few minutes of your time?”

“I have to prepare for homeroom, Principal Nanami. Can this wait until later?” Later, meaning never.

“It won't be long… I promise,” he says, earnestly.

Like I don’t know the result of his promises.

I deeply sigh to myself and return to the meeting room. Nanami passes me to close the door and the smell of his cologne invades my senses.

Clean, minty with a touch of lemon and vanilla.

That’s the cologne you brought him .

Great.

“Everything’s okay, Principal Nanami?”

“Y/N…” Every time he says my name it’s filled with such tenderness. Like that’s the only thing he knows how to say.

“You said you wanted some of my time. Is everything okay, Principal Nanami?” I repeat.

Nanami leans against the desk, hands in his pockets while looking at me. I take notice of the three piece suit he’s wearing and think how handsome he looks. It fills out his body perfectly.

“You haven’t been answering my calls.”

“Because you call me outside of work hours,” I argue.

He hums. “So if I call during work hours, you’d answer?”

“Ken, what do you want?”

“Can I take you out for dinner this weekend?”

I knit my brows. “Why?”

“To talk, Y/N… To see how you’re doing.”

Why are my cheeks suddenly getting warm?

I would be lying if I said I didn’t still have feelings for Nanami. They aren’t as strong as before, but something is still there. At one point in my life, I was madly in love with him. Despite us not working out, I genuinely wish him nothing but the best.

And maybe we can get to being friends again.

I just don’t know if now’s the time.

“I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

“Can you at least think about it?” His voice is still soft. “Please?”

Before I can answer, the late bell rings.

“I have to go.” I’m already halfway through the door.

“Would you let me know?”

I look at him over my shoulder. “I… I’ll let you know.”

Class on Mondays is always the hardest for me. The day feels sluggish, and it moves like a snail. Again, yes, I love teaching, but I seriously cannot hang. Midnight was far too long for me to be out.

Actually, I have no reason to come since I had the company of a handsome fella.

How am I able to teach class while thinking about Toji? I don’t know, but I manage. My mind is split between today's lesson and the distinctive features of him.

Those rich emerald eyes. His dark locks. Pale yet a pretty shade of rose for his lips that’s accompanied by a scar that left me with questions.

Toji wore a baggy black outfit that had me guessing how his physique looked, however, from the looks of his hands and how they felt on my ass—I know it’s probably mouthwatering.

I’m honestly disappointed that I didn’t give him my number. I’m not a hundred percent ready for a new relationship, but also not opposed to one because I was checked out of my last for a while. But I do want to see Toji.

What’s the likelihood of me running into him at the bar again? Slim to none.

I guess we’ll see.

Anyways.

One of my students was reading a page of this week's book, a young adult psychological thriller, when the classroom door opened.

A boy stands there. Spiky hair, about five-foot-nine and green eyes. He looks at me, then around at the classroom before walking toward my desk.

“Hello,” I say with a smile. “Did you need help?”

He nods. “I’m a new student. Sorry for being late.”

“No, it’s okay. I didn’t realize I would be getting a new student today” I told him. “It must’ve slipped my mind.”

He stays silent.

“What’s your name? Do you feel comfortable introducing yourself to the class? You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“Megumi.”

No… this could be mere coincidence. I’m sure Megumi is a popular Japanese name.

“Nice to meet you, Megumi. I’m Miss L /N. Glad to have you here.” I’m left with no reaction. No expression. Just a blank face. “So, we’re reading right now. I only had a set amount of books. For now, you can share with one of the students, then I’ll be sure to get you a copy. Sounds good?”

“Okay.”

“Why don’t you go sit next to Yuji? He’s sitting in the back with pink hair and a red hoodie,” I said. “Yuji, raise your hand for me.”

“Megumi, here-” I called him to retrieve his schedule that he left on my desk. But before I give it to him, his full name catches my attention.

Fushiguro, Megumi.

This is no longer a mere coincidence, and now that I’m looking at Megumi, he resembles Toji— a lot. The features are uncanny. I can almost guarantee that’s how Toji looked when he was Megumi’s age.

Who knew the new student in my class would be the son of the man I’ve been thinking all morning?

Will I use this to my advantage? Most definitely.

It’s that time of year for me to schedule parent-teacher conferences, anyways.

“Miss L /N. Did you call me?”

“Ah, yes. Here. You left your schedule.”

Megumi takes the paper from me and returns to the direction where I told him to sit. Yuji tries to whisper, but his whispering is on the verge of an outside voice. I can hear the excitement in his voice when he finally has a student that’s open to sitting next to him.

Yuji is a sweet kid, but I know he had a rough time growing up based on the little information he shared with me. It’s just him and his older brother.

Teenagers are definitely more judgmental than elementary schoolers, so I notice students avoid him as much as possible yet he still gives them the kindest smile. Megumi seems quiet so I think him sitting next to Yuji will help out a bit.

“Yuji, you want to read the next page?”

He stands up eagerly. “Yes, Miss L /N!” Giggles and whispers around the classroom, causing me to shoot a glare.

“Okay, sweetheart. And remember if you come across a word you don’t know, take your time or ask for my help.” He nods and begins reading.

I pay attention for the most part, but I can’t help but think about another chance at seeing Toji Fushiguro.

It thrills me, even.

I hope he feels the same. I would like to think he does.

PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

#anime x black!reader #anime x reader #toji x reader #toji fushigro x reader #toji x black reader #toji fushiguro x black reader #jjk x reader #jjk x black reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x black reader #toji angst #jjk angst

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