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steddieas-shegoes · 5 months

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more than everything else

For @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt ‘proposal’ wc: 999 rated m cw: suggestive language | tags: domestic fluff, sappy and romantic

💍💍💍💍💍💍💍💍💍💍💍💍💍

“Steve! Freezer’s working again!” Eddie yelled from his spot on the floor behind their previously defunct freezer.

Eddie insisted he could fix it himself, hence the hours he’d spent on the floor with tools that weren’t doing anything and a lip bitten until it bled.

“Told you if you took your shirt off it would work faster,” Steve said from the doorway, hands on his hips as he took in the sight of Eddie being half naked.

Sweat dripping down his chest.

A bruise forming on his side where he’d dropped a wrench on himself earlier.

His newest tattoo peeling because he’d forgotten to put Vaseline on it earlier.

“I always listen to you, sweetheart,” Eddie smirked as he stood up. “You got any plans later?”

“I actually do remember something on the calendar.”

Eddie walked over to him, covered Steve’s hands with his own and rocked him side to side. “Damn.”

“Why? You wanna make plans?” Steve raised a brow.

“I thought I could get a reward for all my hard work today,” Eddie pouted his bottom lip out, eyes widening as he leaned further into Steve’s space. “Maybe in the bedroom?”

“Reward? For fixing the freezer that you broke?”

“I seem to remember someone saying that the freezer was just ‘old’ and that this ‘could’ve happened to anyone.’ Or am I mistaken?” Eddie let go of Steve’s hands but stayed close to him.

“I’m not sure who said that. I do remember someone saying that if you turned it down too far for too long, it would break, though. Maybe you can recall who said that?” Steve leaned in to peck his lips softly, teasing just a little with his fingers along the waistband of Eddie’s pants. “Seems like a smart guy.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Yeah, well. At least the guy who broke it could fix it.”

“That’s right, baby.” Steve backed away. “Now. I’ve got baked chicken spaghetti in the oven for dinner and I made cookies earlier if you-“

“Marry me.”

Steve froze, his eyes widened.

Maybe Eddie could’ve been more eloquent, more romantic.

Shit, maybe he could do that still.

He reached for Steve’s hands, smiling softly at him as his eyes darted between Eddie’s, searching for him to say that it was a joke.

“I’m serious.” Eddie kissed his forehead before continuing. “You think I survived the hell of ‘86 to not end up with Steve Harrington? You think I’ve spent nearly every day of the last six years trying to be the best partner you could ask for, the kind you deserve? You make me wanna be more than everything else.”

“What-“

Eddie shushed him with a kiss. “When I was little, like barely old enough to ride a bike, my mom brought me to a flower shop. She said I had to pick a nice flower for my teacher so she knew I was a sweet kid. I picked a daffodil. She laughed and said ‘you know the love of my life always brought my a daffodil’ and when I asked why dad didn’t bring them to her anymore she said ‘he never did.’ And as I got older I realized what that meant. I never could ask her about it, but I eventually asked Wayne. He said-“ Eddie sniffed, biting his lip trying not to cry. “He said sometimes the love you get isn’t what makes you feel better than everything else, but that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve to feel more than everything else. And I still didn’t quite get it, ya know? Made no damn sense to me when I was 13. Kinda thought Wayne was high.” Steve laughed, Eddie smiled. “But then I saw you in the cafeteria one day, and I saw the way you held the door open for some of the band kids even though Tommy was teasing you for it. And I saw how much you did for me at my worst, even before you had a reason to, before you knew it would be worth more. I see how you love, and how you keep loving, even when some people may not deserve it. I feel how much you are, how much more you can still be. And how much I wanna be more to be worthy of you. I don’t have much, you know I don’t, but you love me anyway. And you make me wanna be more.”

Steve’s tears were falling rapidly, a sob escaping at the end of Eddie’s words as he fell forward, his tears soaking Eddie’s shirt instantly.

“You’re enough for me,” he finally managed to say against Eddie’s neck. “You’ve always been enough for me. I don’t want more. I just want you.”

“I know, sweet love. I know.” Eddie’s arms tightened around him. “You think you could marry me?”

“Eds. I would marry you every day if we could.” Steve sniffed as he pulled away. “We can’t really do it, though.”

“Maybe not. But we can wear rings, tell everyone. I can call you my husband around the people who love us.”

That was a hell of a thought.

Husbands.

“You’re sure you want that?”

“Of course I am. Who else is gonna fix your freezer when it breaks?”

“Maybe you could try not to break it in the first place.” Steve smacked his shoulder. He kissed him slowly, tongue brushing against his bottom lip but not looking for more. “But I guess it would be nice to have someone around all the time to fix the stuff he breaks.”

“Hey!”

“I love you.”

It was that simple.

“So. My reward?”

“My hand in marriage.” Steve turned away and looked over his shoulder. “And maybe my hand in other places. If you hurry up and shower.”

“I’ll be done in five. Be naked on the kitchen table-“

“Eddie, not-“

“The kitchen table!”

Steve rolled his eyes but threw his shirt to the floor and winked before making his way to the kitchen. “Five minutes!”

#steddieholidaydrabbles #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #proposal

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maxillness · 2 months

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Light || Mentor!MW2 x F2 Driver!Reader

Warnings: 18+, age gap, drivers room sex, fingering, oral (F), hair pulling, (kinda) mean Mark

Wordcount: 1.5k

This kinda (doesn’t) make sense, but god do it love this 😭🫶

Tag list: @e-nonsense @babyprofessorsharkpalace

There were ups and down of having the Mark Webber as a mentor

The ups? He was good, and he mentored perfectly, she could never have gotten this far in her career without him

The downs? He was attractive

Everything about him is attractive. His hands, his arms, his voice, his face, his body. Everything

And she could barely stand it anymore. If she didn’t do anything about it soon, she would surely combust

She listened when he talked, but she didn’t really listen. Her subconscious picked up on his words, but she never remembered their conversations

She was to focus on watching him. And, yeah, sure, she was good, and she knew it was because of him, but she never remembered why she got so good

He was the only thing launched on her brain

Mark, Mark, Mark

She could barely pushed the thoughts aside on the track, but she managed, and she always got a podium, not always p1, but podium

After a very beautiful p1 finish, a reporter wanted to talk to her about having Mark as a mentor

“Now, we’ve talked about the pros of having Mark as a mentor, is there any cons?” He asked before taking the mic closer to her

She nervously giggled before answering “Yeah. There is. Just one thought” She swallowed the spit pooling in her mouth before speaking again “He’s extremely attractive. Like, extremely” She searched for other words

“It makes it difficult to focus when he’s around. That’s how attractive he is” They both giggled in sync before the reporter spoke up

“That, we can agree on. Thank you, Y/N. Have a nice day” He smiled before she walked away

She ended up in her drivers room. She was exhausted as she laid on the small couch, almost drifting off into slumber

A knock on the door startled her awake. She sat up, trying to look like she didn’t just almost fall asleep

“Come in” Her voice almost cracked as she spoke up

“Hey, can we talk for a minute?” It was Mark who stood in the door way, his hand holding on to the door knob

“Sure. Of course” She scooted to her right to make space for him on the left as he closed the door behind him

“Look…” He sat down on the couch beside her, tilting his body slightly towards her “I’ll give you everything I have. I’ll teach you everything I know” He sighed before speaking again “But I feel like there’s things you’re not telling me”

Shit. She had forgotten all about the interview earlier

“And I know I’m not supposed to know everything, but-“

“I promise I’ll do better. But, there are just things I can’t tell you” She lowered her head, avoiding his eyes

“I know, I know. I will always hold you close, but I will learn to let you go if we can’t communicate

“I promise… I’ll do better, Mark” She never said his name, so it quite startled him when she did

“I will soften every edge. I’ll hold the world to it’s best” She hated when he spoke that way

“With every heartbeat I have left, I will do better, but can we please, take this conversation another time? I’m exhausted” She really was, but she was scared what the out come was gonna be

“Of course” He sighed, but didn’t move out of his spot “I just want to know one thing” She didn’t answer, but her eyes told him to speak “Was it true what you said earlier?”

“Yes” She answered without thinking. She didn’t meet his eyes, but he tried to meet hers

“Thank you for being honest” She felt a ‘but’ coming when his large hand went to her upper thigh “But…” There it was “I wish you would have told me face to face”

She looked up at him. She sighed before speaking “I can’t” Her voice broke slightly as she spoke

“Yes you can” He scooted closer, his hand trailing upwards in the progress

She felt it in her stomach before she felt it on her cheeks. He could do things to her just by talking, so what could he do if it progressed further?

“Mark-“ Her sentence was cut short by a yelp when he pulled her into in lap, both his hands now on the back of her thighs as hers was on his shoulders

“Tell me” His voice was soft, even with his accent. His eyes was as equally soft

Was this all an act to get her to talk? Would he push her away after she told him? She couldn’t possibly tell him “I can’t-“

She was cut off yet again, but this time with his soft lips against her own. He pulled away when she didn’t kiss him back

“Tell me” His voice was now stern. She only whimpered low, shaking her head slightly

He kissed her again, now rougher. She kissed back this time, her hands now at the back of his head

“Tell me” His words were muffled against her lips. She only answered with a hum that sounded negative

His hands went over her ass and up to her waist in a quick motion. He quickly flipped them over, so now she was sitting in the couch and he was down on his knees in front of her

She had whined at the loss of contact from his lips. His hands went to their waistband of her sweats

“Tell me” His pupils were blown wide, almost covering that beauty of a green colour. She whined at his words, but she didn’t answer, not even shaking her head no

“Fine, guess I’ll have to get it out of you another way” He hooked his fingers into the waist band

She bucked her hips, allowing him to pull down both the sweats and her panties in one pull

“Mark- the door-“ She quickly looked over at the door and then back down at him when he spread her legs wider and pulled her closer to the edge

“It’s locked. Don’t worry, darling” He mouthed opened kisses at her skin on her inner thighs

“You planned this?” She scoffed, trying to hide the whimper trying to escape her “You sick son of-“ She moaned when his tongue went trough her folds

One of her hands went to his hair with a tight grip, making him groan. Her breath shuttered as his tongue went over her clit

Her back arched off of the couch as her other hand grabbed the edge of the couch, her knuckles turning white

His tongue flicked her clit over and over again, making her moans lewd and pornographic

Two of his fingers teased her entrance, making her whimper. He entered just with his fingertips, making her grind down on him, wanting him further into her

His hand that wasn’t inside her, pushed down onto her lower abdomen, pushing her into the couch, stopping her grinding

“Please, I need it. Please” She almost cried begging for his fingers

“Tell me” She tried pushing his face back into her, but with no luck “It’s not that hard. You’ve said it once, you can say it again” God, was his accent hot

He slid his fingers further into her, drawing out a mixture between a moan and a whine. He curled his fingers, barely grazing the spongy part inside her

“Come on, darling. I can tease you as long as I can. Tell me, and I’ll give you what you want” She couldn’t see him from the way her eyes were shut closed, but she could hear the smirk in his voice

His thrusted his fingers in and out of her with a slow pace, wanting to hear her beg for it, only for her to be denied

“Mark- please. Faster, please. I’m begging you” Tears were starting to fill in the corners of her eyes

He chuckled slightly, biting light marks into her thighs “Not until you tell me” He liked over the marks, soothing the stinging sensation “Be a good girl and tell me”

She whimpered, feeling him slow down his pace, if that was even possible. She opened her eyes, looking down at him, debating if it was worth it

“Fuck” She whimpered low “You’re so fucking attractive it hurts” She threw her head back against the couch, closing her eyes as he sped up his fingers

“See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?” He grinned, curling his fingers, making her rapidly clench around him

“Fuck, I’m gonna come” She managed to get words out between her moans

“Come for me, darling” Her thighs shook, and after a few thrusts of his fingers, she came around him

He slowed the pace of his fingers down, kissing her thighs softly, pulling her down from her high

He pulled his fingers out of her before standing up to tower over her. Her eyes trailed down his body, eyes landing on his very obvious boner

“Let me take care of you” Her hands went to his belt buckle, but he took her wrists before she could touch him

“Not now” He bend down, kissing her softly “Come to my room tonight, and I’ll let you do whatever. Okay?” She nodded “Good girl”

He stayed until she had gotten her sweats back on. He kissed her softly again before leaving the room

#smut #formula one #mark webber #mark webber smut #mark webber x reader #mark webber x reader smut #Spotify

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kimsohn · 7 months

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Ꮺ CRAZY

pairing . sangyeon x gn!reader about . 590 words, fluff warnings . none! tagging . @gfksn @invuwrld @stealanity (also @winterchimez hi)

usually, you like the rain. today is an exception.

the droplets resounding against the roof only anger your already worked-up self, and you merely lean against the railing in exasperation. after a long day of misery, you simply don't have the strength to hold onto the thin thread about to snap in half. unfortunately, the universe isn't kind enough to take pity on you today, because the sunny weather forecast prediction and the gloomy weather in front of you don't seem to match up, and you're left to hold back tears under the bus stand.

the cold wind whips past your bare skin, and you mentally curse yourself for not listening to your gut and wearing a jacket this morning. the last bus left an hour ago, and your cell phone is dead in your pocket, so the only thing that can save you now is quite literally a miracle.

thankfully, that miracle arrives in the form of lee sangyeon.

"did you forget your umbrella? again?" he asks, standing on the sidewalk in front of you with a blue umbrella in hand. "you could've at least called me."

"the weather forecast said it was going to be sunny," you argue pitifully, knowing that it's very well your fault for not listening to your brain and the clouds in the sky. "and my phone died. why are you even here anyway? your class ended two hours ago."

your friend sighs, tugging your arm so you can stand under his umbrella. he probably noticed that the railing wasn't protecting you very well due to your drenched hoodie, but he doesn't scold you about it. instead, he merely watches you step closer as another cold gust of air makes its way between you two.

"i was looking for you. we were supposed to get coffee today."

"if you wanted coffee that badly, you could've gone without me," you try to joke, although the humor doesn't seem to convey properly through your chattering voice.

he rolls his eyes, wrapping an arm around your side to pull you close as he walks you to his car. for warmth, you tell yourself, but the way you clutch onto the side of his jacket suggests anything but.

"just please charge your phone next time, okay? searching for you for two hours is not how i wanted to spend my day."

your breath hitches.

"are you still cold?" he asks, misinterpreting your breath, "i'm sorry, i should've been there for you. i knew something was wrong when you didn't respond in five seconds like you usually do—"

"you searched for me for two hours?" you interrupt, wide-eyed with surprise. "are you actually crazy? why would you do that? you could've been cozy at home instead of spending two hours in the cold!"

you stop him in the middle of the road, hands on his shoulders as you make eye contact with him. the only sounds you hear are the pitter-patter of the rain against the umbrella and your heavy breathing, but the world around you is drowned out in this moment where only you and him exist. the distance between you two is far too intimate for an argument, but as his gaze flickers down to your lips and back up, you don't even remember what point you're supposed to be proving anymore. if anything, you're far too distracted by the cocky grin he now sports on his face as he leans in to whisper into your ear.

"well if i didn't come to save you, who would?"

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stylesispunk · 9 months

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TIME CASTS A SPELL ON YOU, BUT YOU WON'T FORGET ME | CHAPTER 5

Chapter 5: Loving You Will Get Me Killed.

Series masterlist | previous chapter | next | masterlist

Summary: fifteen years ago, amidst the filling of divorce papers and the broken promises of a happily ever after, the world collapsed. Amidst the ruins of cities and the remnants of dreams, Joel's search for his ex-wife began. No matter where he turned, the woman who had once loved him held him captive, a presence he couldn't escape.

word count: 2,9k>

warnings: no use of y/n, angst, fluff,

a/n: Hello, part 5 is here! I lost track of time these days because of the holidays. This chapter ended up being different from my previous plan, but still is what it is, I know is not the best but is written with love. As always, reblogs and comments are really appreciated<3 If you have any questions or feedback, you are always welcome to come here (be kind). Happy reading💌. Also, if you wanna be tagged, tell me<3 AND there is a playlist for this story here. English is not my first language, I swear I'm clever in Spanish

Joel, Ellie, and Beth found a quiet spot to sit down and talk. The tension in the air had lessened somewhat, and Joel couldn’t help but steal glances at Beth as she observed her surroundings. He was looking for any features of Emily in her. The way she furrowed her brow when deep in thought, the determined glint in her eyes, and even the way she held herself with a certain quiet strength It was as though a part of Emily had been passed down to their daughter.

Ellie noticed Joel's contemplative gaze and leaned in to whisper, "You see it too, don't you?"

Joel didn’t move, his eyes never leaving Beth. "What do I have to see?"

Ellie understood Joel's guarded response. The emotions Joel had tied to Emily were still painful. "I just meant...you’re seeing Emily in her," Ellie said softly, choosing her words with care.

Joel's gaze remained fixed on Beth, who was now lost in thought.

"Yeah," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "Yeah, she does."

Ellie simply nodded in understanding. She had always been perceptive, and with the passing of the days, she was able to pick up on Joel’s unspoken emotions.

"It's a lot to take in," Ellie said softly. "But maybe it's a chance for you to make things right, Joel. To help Beth and Emily be together again."

Joel didn't respond immediately. Instead, he continued stealing glances at Beth, as if trying to figure out something unknown to Ellie.

Ellie watched Joel closely, a frown on his eyebrows as he continued looking at Beth. She couldn't help but notice the similar frown on Beth's face as she returned his gaze. However, Ellie's curiosity got the better of her. She couldn't help but wonder what happened to Emily when she found out she was expecting, and she couldn’t help but wonder who Beth’s father was. Ellie's curiosity got the better of her.

"Beth? How old are you?" Ellie asked

Beth responded to Ellie's question, "I'm fourteen; why?"

Ellie exchanged a knowing glance with Joel, their unspoken thoughts left there hanging in the air.

As Emily moved through the desolate landscape, she couldn’t help but reflect on the past. She remembered the old good days when her biggest complaint was getting up for work, when she lived instead of surviving, and when she had a family to come home to. Those days were just scenes of a film she couldn’t enjoy anymore.

Emily had never stopped loving Joel, and the pain of their separation had never truly faded. It was a wound that had festered over the years—a constant ache in her heart. But now, with his reappearance and the reasons he had brought into her life once again, Emily couldn't help but wonder if there was a chance for redemption.

She remembered the day her marriage definitely ended and how, a week later, the world went into chaos. She was frightened, not just for herself but for the tiny baby growing inside her. Back then, she didn’t have any family besides Joel, Sarah, and Tommy, and now, fifteen years apart, she finds herself still without a family, except for the daughter she wasn’t willing to lose.

With each step she took, Emily couldn't shake the feeling that time was running out and that the choices she made in the days to come would determine the fate of not only her daughter but also the remnants of her own humanity.

For that reason, she found herself back in the place she had escaped from years ago—the place that stole her humanity for the first time. Emily's footsteps echoed in the eerie silence as she cautiously made her way through the familiar but now haunting corridors.

She couldn't help but remember the screams, the fear, and the desperation that had filled these very halls years ago when she decided to escape with her daughter attached to her hip.

This place had been a crucible that had tested the limits of her humanity and morality for the first time.

So once the door was opened for her, the figure emerging was her once-savior.

"Where is Joel Miller?" Mark demanded, his voice dripping with menace. He was a man who inflicted untold horrors on those who crossed his path.

Emily fought to keep her composure. She knew that she had to tread carefully, for both her sake and her daughter's. "Not here," she replied, her voice steady despite

"I remember telling you not to come back without that man."

"Things change," Emily responded; she had come too far to simply bow down to Mark's demands.

Mark's eyes narrowed further. "You were always a thorn in my side, Emily," he hissed. "But I have ways of making you cooperate."

"You know? Actually, I was with him," Emily continued, ignoring Mark’s words, her defiance rising. She knew that Mark wouldn't be satisfied with her answers. He was a predator, and he smelled blood in the water. "And I told him about you."

Mark's eyes narrowed, his smile fading into a scowl. He took a step closer to Emily, and she could feel his spiteful breath on her face. "You always were a clever one, Emily. Don’t you tell me you were foolish enough to fall for him again?"

Emily's eyes have widened. "What do you mean again?"

Mark's scowl deepened as he stared at Emily, his eyes cold. "You thought I wouldn't find out, didn't you?" he sneered. "You thought you could hide all those pictures from me?"

Emily's heart raced as she tried to decipher Mark's words. She had no idea what he was talking about. "I don't know what you mean," she replied cautiously.

Mark took another step closer, his voice low and threatening. "I know you and him were married."

Mark's laughter was cold and cruel. "You really are a fool, Emily. I bet you told him about me. Did you honestly believe he would forgive you? That he would welcome you back with open arms and protect you?"

Emily's heart sank as the truth of Mark's words began to dawn on her; he was using that knowledge to manipulate her.

"I won't let you use him against me," Emily said, her voice firm. She couldn't allow Mark to control her like this and exploit her vulnerabilities.

Mark's smile returned, but it was even more sinister than before. "Oh, Emily," he said, his voice dripping with malice. "You don't have a choice." He paused "I want that fucker dead."

"Why?" she dared to ask.

"Why?" Emily dared to ask, her voice trembling with a mixture of fear and anger.

Mark's smile twisted into a bitter expression. "Because he's the reason I became what you called a monster," he hissed. "He killed my people, and he killed my brother."

Emily's heart sank further as the pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place.

"I want him dead, and you're going to help me find him." He said it coldly.

"I won't lead you to him." She said, "You don’t dare put a price on your brother’s life when you have done horrible things to people."

Mark's jaw clenched as he glared at Emily, his anger simmering just beneath the surface. "You're making a grave mistake, Emily," he warned. "You'll regret this."

"Cut your bullshit," she spitted. "I came here for my daughter, and I will be out of here with her."

"And who is going to let you?"

"I’m not asking for permission."

Mark's eyes bore into Emily's, his expression hardening. "You think you can just take Beth and walk away?

She didn't hesitate; she swiftly took action. With a quick, calculated movement, she drove her knife into Mark's leg, causing him to cry out in pain.

"I'll do whatever it takes to protect my daughter," she stated defiantly, her eyes locked onto Mark's. "And I won't let you or anyone else stand in my way."

Mark winced in pain as Emily's knife bit into his leg, a sharp cry escaping his lips. He staggered back, clutching his injured leg, his face twisted in agony. The sudden turn of events had caught him off guard, and for the first time, he seemed vulnerable in front of her.

Emily didn't waste a moment. Fearless and with determination, she turned towards the exit, leaving Mark squirming in pain on the ground. She knew that she had just made him angrier, but she also knew that she had no other choice. Her daughter's safety was her focus.

Emily disappeared into the shadows, moving on the sly through the halls of the place, carefully not to be seen by any of Mark’s minions. Her heart was pounding as she heard the footsteps of some people. She knew that she couldn't take on a group of armed men alone, but she also couldn't afford to be captured by them. Beth's safety depended on her.

In the dim light, she spotted a door to her left. With a burst of adrenaline-fueled strength, she shoved it open and slipped inside just as one of the men reached the corridor.

Inside the room, Emily found herself in what looked like an old storage area. Boxes and debris were scattered around, providing some cover. She crouched behind a stack of boxes, breathing heavily, with her senses alert.

The footsteps grew louder as people entered the room. Emily's heart raced as she tried to devise a plan. She knew she had to take them by surprise.

One man walked closer to her hiding spot, and Emily took her chance. With a swift movement, she lunged at him, blowing to his throat and covering her shirt in blood. The man gasped for air, stumbling backwards and falling into the boxes.

The noise alerted the other people, and they turned their attention toward Emily. She knew she had to act quickly. She swung her knife with all her strength, striking another member in the side of the head, sending him sprawling to the ground.

But the odds were against her. The rest of the men closed her in, their expressions filled with anger and hatred towards her. However, Emily fought with every ounce of strength and skill she had, landing punches and kicks, desperately trying to hold them off, with some of the kicks landing on her.

But just as it seemed like she might give up, a sudden noise from outside the building and the alarm sound distracted the men. Emily took advantage of the momentary confusion and darted toward the nearest exit.

She burst out of the room and into the corridor, her heart pounding. She knew she couldn't stay in the building any longer. With the pursuit still on her tail, Emily fled into the darkness, determined to find Beth, get her out of here, and find Joel and Ellie to keep her promise to her.

She watched in horror as the infected drew nearer, their horrible forms illuminated by the faint light. Emily's grip tightened on her weapon, her fingers trembling with adrenaline running throughout her body. With each step the infected took, her determination grew. She had lost so much in this world, and she couldn't bear to lose Beth as well.

With a deep breath, she stepped into the fray, her weapon swinging with deadly precision. The infected fell, and the darkness was her ally, cloaking her movements. Emily paused for a moment to catch her breath. Her heart was pounding against her chest when a strong hand suddenly clamped over her mouth from behind. Her eyes widened with shock and fear, and she instinctively tried to scream but was muffled by the firm grip. She squirmed against the person for a moment before realizing the hand belonged to someone she knew.

"Easy there," he whispered in her ear, his voice low and soothing. "It's me." Joel slowly removed his hand from Emily's mouth; his eyes locked onto hers with relief.

She looked at him, her eyes wide with disbelief as she met his gaze. He came back for her. For her, it symbolized the possibility of healing old wounds and rekindling a love that had never truly died.

"We need to go," Joel whispered, his voice low and serious.

"No without Beth," she said, and she didn’t move.

"Beth is fine." He reassured her, "She is with Ellie."

Emily's heart skipped a beat at the mention of Beth's name. Relief and worry battled within her as she tried to process the information. "Is she with you?"

Joel nodded. "Yeah, they're safe for now."

Without speaking a word, they pressed on through the dark corridors, their footsteps echoing faintly as they moved deeper into the unknown as many times as possible.

After what felt like hours of battle, they finally put enough distance between themselves and the threat. Emily signaled for them to stop, and they both crouched behind a decaying building, chests heaving as they caught their breath.

Joel's eyes never left Emily's as they rested there. "Hey, are you okay?" Joel asked

Emily just nodded. "Joel," she began, her voice barely above a whisper, "I need you to know why I did what I did. It wasn't just about revenge or anger."

"Shh. We can talk about it later." His concern for Emily was evident in his eyes as he helped her to her feet.

He gently cupped her face with his calloused hands, his gaze penetrating deep into her bright eyes. It was a silent moment, filled with unspoken emotions that had been buried for far too long.

Emily met his gaze, her own eyes reflecting a complex mix of remorse, regret, and a glimmer of hope. She didn't know what the future held, but she was determined to make amends.

"Joel, why did you come back for me?" Emily asked, her voice soft.

Joel's thumb brushed against her cheek as he continued to hold her face gently. His eyes softened, and for a moment, it seemed like the weight of their past was lifted, if only temporarily.

"We need to go," he said, ignoring her question.

The moment Joel pushed open the creaking door of the rusty motel, the tension seemed to disappear. Beth's eyes widened as she saw her mother emerging, and her voice caught in her throat.

Emily rushed forward, tears welling up in her eyes, and she enveloped Beth in a tight, desperate hug. It was a reunion she desperately wanted to happen. Mother and daughter clung to each other as if trying to make up for all the lost time.

Ellie and Joel watched the scene unfold with warmth. He felt Ellie's gaze on him, and he met her knowing look with a subtle nod, acknowledging the unspoken truth that hung in the air. There was no denying the resemblance between Beth and himself.

Emily had returned from his past once again, and the time for his questions and her answers was coming.

Later at night, as Emily took off her blouse to check on her ribs. The creak of the door swinging open startled Emily as she was examining the bruises on her side. She quickly covered up, turning towards the entrance. Her heart raced as she met the eyes of Joel.

Joel stood there in the doorway, his gaze locked onto Emily. He couldn't help but steal a fleeting glance at Emily as he entered the room. Despite the fifteen years that had passed, she still owned the same familiar features on her body, the same that once captivated his heart. Her presence brought a rush of memories and emotions he had long buried.

However, his gaze quickly shifted to a sizable bruise on her right side, just below the edge of her bra. Concern etched across his face as he stepped closer, his calloused fingers gently pressing against the discolored skin. He couldn't help but feel a surge of protectiveness over Emily.

"What happened here?" Joel asked as his fingers gently pressed against her ribs.

Joel's touch, after all those years apart, felt both familiar and foreign to Emily. It was as if a wave of memories rushed over her, leaving her feeling vulnerable and exposed. Her skin tingled under his calloused fingers, and she couldn't help but feel a nervous flutter blooming in her chest.

Emily had spent so long trying to keep her guard up, to protect herself from the pain of the past, that having Joel's hands on her now, so gentle and concerned, made her feel like she was a delicate flower. And despite her nervousness, there was comfort in his touch, a longing to be close to him.

"One of those fuckers," Emily replied once she found her voice again.

"Does it hurt?" Joel asked, genuine worry etched into his features.

Emily simply nodded, acknowledging the discomfort and pain that were getting settled on now since the adrenaline had left her body.

Joel's touch was surprisingly gentle as he examined the bruise. His fingers traced the discolored skin, and he couldn't help but feel a surge of protectiveness over Emily.

"You should slow down a little bit," he said, his voice laced with worry. "I don't want it to get worse."

They locked their eyes, and in that unspoken moment, years of silence seemed to melt away. She was 27 again, and he was 32, and nothing wrong had happened to them.

Joel pressed his forehead against hers. A shared breath held between Emily and Joel existed in a space beyond words. It was a moment of connection, of memories, and of regrets from the past that separated them.

Joel's thumb gently brushed against Emily's cheek, wiping away a stray tear that had escaped. "We've got a lot to talk about," he whispered, his voice a mere breath away from hers.

a/n: Okay so there was some tension and you had some answers. The next chapter will be more focused on that btw.

Tags 💌: @joeldjarin @catchallfangirl @phoebe13 @fatima-mar

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monstrouslyobsessed · 1 year

Text

A tribe composed only of men in a tropical forest. They are cannibals and eat members of other tribes and trespassers. Reader and her group was captured and since the chef and the other members found her cute and breedable, they decided to not eat her and make her the "mother" of the tribe. Thanks! —anonymous

—a/n: hm, im a lil iffy doing this one due to potential xenophobia and cultural insensitivity (regardless of what one may think of certain customs, the tribes who inspired this such suggestion are still people who deserve a measure of respect), so i’ll be changing the species and incorporate it in my beastfolk au instead to hopefully avoid offending anyone.

also, this turned into a fic (plus me making it into beastfolk au so no claiming without permission) lmao so not really a concept anymore. sorry about that! im keeping the format tho.

also, I wanna make a note for you for the asterisk marking in the tag list. the word i made up (Ce’ne, specifically) basically meant both ‘mother’ and ‘father’ and can be passed as gender neutral, to have/give children. to be safe though, im marking it as gendered language.

—tw / tags: gn reader, brief use of gendered language*, language barrier, injuries, horror, implied maneating, gore, multiple deaths, implied trespassing, implied beastfolk trafficking, kidnapping, confinement, body painting, teratophilia, exophilia, general yandere themes, sfw? —readers are advised to read at their own discretion.

—featured character(s): the jaguars tribe / the ‘Jags’, the Scarred One —word count: 2.1k

—this is part of my beastfolk universe! —zoo era.

Everything hurts, especially the excruciating pain in your back. It felt as though your flesh had been flayed and then set ablaze, the agony akin to acid being poured into open wounds. You groggily dragged your eyes open with a whimper choked out from your dusty throat. Needles of numbness buzzed on your damp skin and the only sound you could hear was the pounding of your own heart in your ears.

It was dark when you came to, but not pitch-black as you could see thin gaps of light creeping through wherever you were currently. The flickering golden light was in a constant motion, casting dancing shadows across the space. You could smell a smoky scent of burning wood and the air was heavy and damp, hanging on your skin like a winter blanket. Your brain was still groggy and the answers to where you were and why, were not forthcoming.

At hearing your groans, someone hissed out for your attention, “—! —! Are you okay!?” They kept their voice low, as if they were trying to avoid alerting anyone outside the threshold you were placed in.

You could barely see with the blur of pain fogging your eyes, but you slowly shook your head, “I…I don’t know.” You desperately searched for the owner of that voice, but you found nothing but a shifting blob of shadow some feet away from you. You couldn’t move, your arms tied to what felt like a wooden pole and your ankles bounded together with bushy ropes. Your head was ringing loudly and you moaned, “Wh—what happened?”

“T-the d-director fucked over all of us, —!” Their reply was edged with a sense of betrayal, “He was one of ‘em fuckin’ zoo hunters, using us to get close to the Jags—!”

Fuck. You remembered with a contorted grimace. As an up-and-coming researcher with a vested interest in studying the feral beastfolks and animals, you had ambitions and dreams realized. You had been honored to have encountered and even personally met a handful of tribal people. Although It was no grand merit, you learned enough about their customs and languages to set up a survey to map out the possible locations of local tribes.

As you’d learned, this knowledge was a dangerous thing to have.

The director must have been after a specific tribe of the feral beastfolk; the whiskeredfolks with ringed spots in their golden fur that you and your colleagues had nicknamed 'Jags.'. Unlike the timid, long-legged tribe you had befriended with and the one with thick-maned people with whom you had more tenuous relationships with, this particular one was notorious for being dangerous and killing the outsiders on sight.

Without a doubt, you and your expedition group had flown too close to the sun and got burned for it. Despite your frequent warnings, the so-called director convinced everyone to take just a 'few steps closer' to the Jags’ territory. In a blink, all hell’s broke loose.

You remembered the sound of roaring and the sight of bodies scantily clad in animal skins launching themselves at you and your people, weapons in hand. You felt a searing pain in your back and then darkness consumed you. The last thing you saw was gruesome, with a spear tearing through a fellow researcher’s chest.

The vision still burned within your mind’s eye and tears stung your bruised cheeks.

“S—shit,” You dug the soles of your bare feet (what happened to your boots?) into the wet dirt and thumped your head against the wooden pole. You tried counting what you could see, but there was only one. “w-where is everyone else?”

Your colleague went quiet. The jeering laughter and a sole human shrieking followed your question. The screaming sounded suspiciously like the director’s—and your blood went cold when that cry abruptly ended to a gurgle.

The shadow blob nodded, their motion solemn in the darkness, “We made him confessed when ‘ey tossed us in here when you were still out. Since ‘en, ‘em cats started picking us clean one by one. ‘e bastard was the first one to go, probably because he’s big and meaty.”

You caught a hitched breath and heard them shuddering, “We’re ‘e last ones. Why didn’t we listen to you?” Your colleague choked.

Why didn’t they, you’d wonder about this for the rest of your remaining life, but now, your brain could barely function with your back throbbing in pain. You could feel the back of your shirt being soaked through with your warm blood and your body slowly going cold. With a rasping breath, you rolled over your heavy head to your fellow researcher, “H—hey, at least…at least we’re dying doing what we loved, right?”

It was a shit joke, but it was enough to get them to snort.

“Hopefully ‘ey’d put us out quicker ‘an what ‘ey did to ‘e bastard.” They mumbled.

A whispering flap of the tent’s entryway fluttered.

A flickering light blinded you, casting shadows across the dark enclosure and preventing you from seeing who had entered. Several footsteps grinding into the dirt and a brief warmth pressed against your knees. You heard a mumbling in another language, oddly approving, and a short shuffling from where your colleague was.

The light was gone and you found yourself alone in the suffocating darkness. With a slow groan, you braced for your inevitable end, hoping that at least everyone in your group had met a quick demise.

Sans that fucker of a director who lured you all into a death trap.

You closed your eyes, not expecting to see another day.

When you woke up, you saw the daylight creeping inside the gaps of the woven palm leaves and blinked in confusion. When you turned your head, you realized you were resting on a soft bedding, of dried leaves and colorful fabrics, and was staring at the knitted canopy. Weren’t you tied up to a support pole earlier, with your back gaping and bleeding?

A moan tumbled out from your lips. From the corner of your eyes, you saw movement and you jerked when a voice bellowed not too far away from you. As if they were raising an alarm—or calling for someone’s attention. Fear struck your heart—

And you so wanted to move. Your body was too stiff and your muscles soft from exhaustion and strains from your injuries. Absently, your skin itched and you somehow found enough strength to glance down your body.

You swallowed thickly at your current state.

Where had your clothes gone? Why were you half naked and wearing patterned animal skins? Why had they tended to you at all?

On your skin, leaves and odd colored globs were plastered over your injuries. Why had they spared you?

“R’oa,” a deep voice entered your ears and drenched your spine with a shiver.

Hello, you absently translated from knowing some of the local common tongue. You slowly rolled your head over and blinked at the sight of the kneeling figure. Your heart jumped to your throat when it dawned on you on who he may be.

His face and body were marked with striking decorations of rosettes and bright painted patterns you recognized as his people’s custom. He wore ornate accessories, including a heavy ring through his flared nostrils, to signify his rank in the tribe. Towering over you with ease, he was large and his presence nothing but raw power and his naked torso coiled with rippling muscles.

But, none of his features stood out as much as his scars littering his skin—and one of which had left a long, jagged pit down his cheek and left his eye an striking grey hue. He was a well fought warrior, perhaps the best in his tribe.

Without a doubt, you were in the presence of one true predator.

Shakily, you nodded with a quiet return of his foreign language.

He seemed pleased by how submissive you were being.

There were no other option left but to humor the person who could easily shallow you whole in several gulps.

“*Canu zuhs nu i'ars nuus nil zuazsu.” He grasped on your forearm, the pads on his palm were coarse and hard on your skin, and tugged you off your bed.

Come...meet…people? You groggily tried to translate, as you went along with the whiskeredfolk’s whim. A yelp darted from your lips, when he swung you into the crook of his arm and pain rung around your eyes from the sudden movement and your injuries feeling like they were being split open once more.

“Tuil i'asu uhrthisus, ilai rsizuhs ail!” Another voice snarled out, and you flinched as you distantly heard a slap on the whiskeredfolk's person. You glanced upward and saw him wearing a crossed brow.

Injured…that was all you understood from their exchange.

With his ears folded back to his skull, the scarred male grumbled something back to the owner of the other voice. He quietened at the growling reply, and you still trembled from the way his voice seemed to burrow deep inside your skin. You could feel his foreign words through his chest, vibrating into your aching ribs.

The other voice sounded feminine, possibly aged, and you wondered if they were the one who had nursed you back to health. You had no energy to crane your head over the scarred one’s bicep to see, catching a brief glimpse of a strange hood over their head.

The scarred one took you outside, pushing the flap aside, and you winced at how bright the dabbled sunlight was. When your eyes readjusted, you blinked and regretted every decision you’d ever made in your life. Your stomach curdled at the sight and your nose stung.

Within the ashy pit, still smoking from the previous night’s bonfire, black skeletal remains hung on their respective stakes. There was little meat left on their bones and their skulls were missing. You did not wish to dwell on why and ripped away your tearful eyes from your colleagues’ bodies.

Why were you spared?

Oh, gods, the stench in the air was foul, smelling like burnt meat and melted plastic. Smothering your hands over your lower face, you gagged the exact moment the scarred male barked out. You grimaced, trying to make sense of the words he shouted out.

“Mil zuazsu, I si'ass izar suu!”

People, call.

You were so distracted by the gruesome sight that you hadn’t realized how quiet the settlement was. Initially, the only whiskeredfolks you could see were several teenage males, looking at you with curiosity in their eyes.

When you blinked, more whiskeredfolks emerged from their homes at the scarred one’s call. They quickly surrounded you, keeping a respectable distance, their eyes burning holes into your bare skin. Some had hunger in their gazes, others quiet rage, and a few were wide-eyed and curious.

You gazed across your whiskered audience, noting their muscular body shapes, and realized that most were males. You could count the females with both hands, and a sense of dread sank into your stomach. Instinctively, you knew why you were spared, but your mind screamed in denial.

The scarred one thumped his feet and swished his tail, “Tu Ce’ne phsi'asus ir i'asus i'a sarph si'ars!” His tone was exuberant, eager, and his tribe erupted in an excited murmur.

You furrowed your brows, but you could only understand Ce’ne, which meant both Mother and Father. But, who was Ce’ne?

He jostled you to your feet and kept a grip on you when you wobbled. The scarred one leaned over you, his jagged teeth beaming in the sunlight. “Na nasu zuhss ais zuazsu rius suhsssurr,”

You jumped as the entire tribe erupted in a loud roar of joy. Their eyes glittered with delight and you could feel your fear intensifying. You felt colder than you were back in the throes of blood loss from the night before. Your heart shuddered at the way they looked at you.

“sa szuhrssu zuhsais i'a Ce’ne sa phsi'ars ir sir!” the scarred one finished and clapped both of his large claws on your shoulders. He herded you closer to the mass, as if to showcase every inch of you.

Grant us cubs. That was all you could make out from what the scarred male said. Your eyes widened at the realization and a strangled whimper rose from your parched throat.

There was no escaping this, was there?

You couldn't move as the weight of the leader bore down on your shoulders, his talons cutting into your skin. Tears welled up in your eyes as a hooded female appeared with a strangely shaped bowl in her hands. You were shaking like a leaf, when she dipped her fingers into the dark, coagulated liquid within.

You sobbed the moment she smeared the tribe’s pattern onto your exposed chest, as if marking you as their property.

The Ce’ne. You were the Ce’ne.

—end

fictional translation: Canu zuhs nu i'ars nuus nil zuazsu. —Come with me and meet my people.

Tuil i'asu uhrthisus, ilai rsizuhs ail! —They are injured, you stupid boy!

Mil zuazsu, I si'ass izar suu! —My people, I call upon thee!

Tu Ce’ne phsi'asus ir i'asus i'a sarph si'ars! —The Mother/Father graced us after a long last! Na nasu zuhss ais zuazsu rius suhsssurr, sa szuhrssu zuhsais i'a Ce’ne sa phsi'ars ir sir! —No more will our people suffer childless, to dwindle without a mother/father to grant us cubs!

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reasonsmandy · 1 year

Text

Unfinished Melody

Eddie Roundtree x Fem! Reader

✧.* requested by anon — prompt 38 with eddie roundtree 🥰

✧.* summary — The secrets that the walls of Eddie's Chicago hotel room held have lived in your memories since that morning, the words you two uttered without thinking still reverberate in each other. And maybe that's why after so many years none of you have even touched on the subject, but years later a reunion would bring all of that to light.

✧.* warnings — none

✧.* word count — 3.6k

✧.* 🎸 — Eddie's masterlist

✧.* mandy's notes — In case you'd like to be tagged in other djats stories of mine, the link to my tag list is at the end of the story. Good reading :)

Chicago Stadium

(July 12, 1979)

10h00

"Please tell me you're joking." Your hands were sweating and you tried to contain the tightness in your chest, looking him in the eyes was impossible.

"Do I look like I'm joking baby?" Eddie says running his hands through his hair. "You have to understand me..."

"I can't believe you sometimes Eddie." Your voice came out shaky, and when he noticed your downcast face, he felt a tightness in his chest. "You're just going to leave the band, our family, for what? Your own selfish ambition?"

Eddie let out a sigh. "It's not just about my ambition, Y/N and you know that. It's about Billy. I can't take his shit anymore. He thinks he's the star of the show and everyone else is just there to support him. That's not what we signed up for and you know that pretty girl, come on."

"But we've already achieved so much," You say, feeling the frustration rising on your chest. "We're on the verge of something great. And now you want to throw it all away because of Billy? You're being ridiculous!"

Eddie stood up, pacing around the room. "Ridiculous? You think I'm being ridiculous? You don't understand what it's like, Y/N. To always be in the background, to never get any recognition."

You don't let him continue, your face turns serious. "I've been every step of this journey with you, I don't know if you remember but I also stay in the background. If anyone knows what you're talking about, it's me. But you don't see me ranting to the wind about how Billy likes to be in the spotlight or how only Daisy is mentioned as the band's female icon. What we live here is something unique my love, can't you see that?"

Eddie's face softened at your words, but he still seemed resolute. "I'm sorry, gorgeous. I just can't do it anymore. I need to follow my own path, make my own mark on the world."

"And what about us?" you ask, your voice breaking slightly. "What about our dreams, our plans for the future? You're just going to delete me from the equation, is that it?"

Eddie hesitated, his eyes searching yours. "Come on honey, don't be like that."

"Answer my question." You felt your heart break.

"I don't know, Y/N! Damn it, I don't fucking know." He looked anxious, frustrated with everything that had happened in the last few days. "I need some time to figure things out."

You shake your head in disbelief. "You can't just leave everything behind, Eddie. The band, our family, our life together. You can't just walk away like it never mattered."

"I know it's not easy," Eddie says, his voice low. "But sometimes we have to make tough choices to get where we want to go. I hope you'll understand someday."

You feel tears welling up in your eyes, but you refuse to let them fall. "I don't think I'll ever understand this, Eddie. But I guess it doesn't matter. You've made up your mind."

Eddie moves towards you, his arms open, but you step back. "Don't," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "Just...give me some space, okay? I need to process all of this."

Eddie nods, his eyes filled with regret. "I understand. I'm sorry, gorgeous. I never wanted to hurt you."

You turn to leave, your heart heavy with grief. "I know," you say, your voice barely audible. "But sometimes, even when we don't mean to, we hurt the ones we love."

You left Eddie's hotel room leaving your heart there, you've always been in love with him since you were a little girl when you lived in Pittsburgh. Parting with someone so important to you was like losing a part of your own body, and you knew that that emptiness in your chest would never leave you peace.

...

Since then

(1979-CURRENT)

Your hands brought the cold water that came out of the faucet towards your face for the third time, you tried to camouflage it but the nervousness grew in your chest like a weed in fertile soil. It had been two weeks since you had finished your interview with Julia Dunne, for the documentary she was organizing about "Daisy Jones and the six", and when you recorded your last take she invited you to a barbeque at Billy's house that would get the whole band together to talk about old times.

At first you were reluctant to accept the invitation, but after talking to Warren about it, he and Lisa convinced you to accept. As you gazed into the mirror, you took note of your changed appearance. Your hair was shorter now, and the creases around your eyes were more pronounced. But despite the passage of time, you still recognized the same Y/N staring back at you.

You couldn't help thinking about what it would be like to see everyone again after what happened in Chicago, Was it going to be as fun as things used to be at after-show parties? Would everything be more intimate like late nights making music in the house in Laurel Canyon? Or would you go back to that moment of comfort and calm that rehearsals in Chuck's garage provided?

As you arrived at Billy's house, you saw that the backyard had been transformed into a lively gathering. The scent of grilled burgers and hot dogs wafted through the air, mixed with the sounds of laughter and chatter.

As you approach the house, you can hear the sound of music drifting from the backyard, soon you recognize 'Regret Me'. Stepping through the sliding glass door, you see a lively scene unfolding before you. Daisy is in the midst of a spirited conversation with Julia, Warren and Lisa were sitting on a patio set, chatting animatedly with Graham, catching up on old times. In the distance, you could see their two young daughters playing tag with Daisy's daughter, their high-pitched giggles filling the air.

Your eyes disobey you or on the contrary, obey your hidden desires, and search the place for Eddie Roundtree and when you manege to see him walking towards you your heart skips a beat, nervousness filling your chest.

Roundtree approaches you awkwardly, reviewing the words he had rehearsed so many times in his head imagining this reunion. But before he can get to you, Warren arrives excitedly hugging you on impulse.

"Y/N!" He exclaims, excited to see you again. "We missed you so much, never disappear like that again!"

"I promise not!" You say hugging him back, you notice Eddie closer to you and turn to him. "Hey Roundtree, long time no see..."

"Yeah, how are you L/N?" Her name sounded so good in his voice, like it used to."You look gorgeous."

"Thank you." You feel a shiver in your belly, having his gaze on you was as powerful as ever. "You're not so bad yourself."

You all move to a table near the pool, Lisa was there when she sees you, she gets up to greet you with a warm hug. As Warren and you catch up, you immediately fall into a comfortable conversation. You talk about everything from your favorite music to your upcoming plans. It's clear to everyone watching that you both have a deep connection.

Eddie can't help but feel jealous as he watches the two of you. He remembers when you used to talk to him like that, but those days are long gone and he missed it like crazy. His thoughts were on the memories that remain you, he remembered the nights you spent together talking about everything and nothing at the same time,he remembered how amazing it was to make you laugh at his joke, he wanted to get that back with you but had no idea where to start and how to do it.

He decides to interrupt your conversation with Rojas, hoping to get your attention. "Hey, Y/N," he says, "Remember that time we went to that concert together, the one where you got lost and I spent the whole show trying to find you in the crowd?"

A smile opens on her face as she remembers the day he mentioned, "Of course I remember, certainly one of the best days of my life. I still can't believe we made it out of there alive," you reply, laughing."

As Eddie watches Warren and you talking and laughing together, he can't help but feel a pang of jealousy and longing in his chest. He remembers the times when it used to be him making you laugh, the way you looked at him with those bright, beautiful eyes that made his heart skip a beat. He remembers the feeling of your warmth next to him, the way your hand fit perfectly in his, and the sound of your voice in his ear as your talked about everything and anything.

But those memories are distant now, and he can't help but feel like he's lost something special. He watches as Warren effortlessly makes you laugh, and he can't help but compare himself to the drummer. Warren has everything he doesn't - a stable family, a successful career, and now, a closeness with you that Eddie can only dream of having again.

As Eddie sits there, lost in his thoughts, he can't help but see parallels between the past and the present. The way you laugh at Warren's jokes is so similar to the way you used to laugh at his, and the way you interact reminds him of the way he and you used to do so. It's like looking into a mirror and seeing what he's lost, what was so distant now.

Just then, Eddie decides he needs to get away. He tells everyone he's going to get a drink and leaves the table, his frustration and longing weighing heavily on him. As he makes his way to the fridge, he can't help but replay the memories of you two in his mind, wishing he could go back in time and make things different.

He listens to the side conversation which was just a rumbling noise that wasn't enough to silence his saboteur thoughts. He stares several times at the fridge in front of him, staring at the drinks without knowing how to get out of the situation or at least get away from this feeling that was growing in him.

Lisa noticed Roundtree far from the group and when he left to get a drink she became concerned about the whole situation, and decided to go talk to him. She approaches him and touches his shoulder, making him turn to the actress.

"Everything alright?" She asks, a smile on her face mixed with her concerned features. "You seemed airy back there." She points out.

"I'm sorry to ask but, doesn't it bother you?" He nods discreetly to the scene of Warren and you talking.

Lisa turns to look at what he's pointing at, arching her eyebrows as she turns back to the bassist. "What, Warren and Y/N?"

Eddie just nods, a little embarrassed at his question. Lisa takes a drink and opens it, handing it to Eddie she leans on the bar next to them and takes a sip of hers. "Warren and Y/N have grown closer over the last few years and I've grown closer to her too, she's like a sister to our family. I'm used to it, maybe at first I was a little jealous but I know my husband is crazy about me." She chuckles, making Eddie opening a shy smile.

He thinks about what to say, but stays quiet, still analyzing his thoughts. "But why the question?" Lisa asks, wanting to understand why the man is uncomfortable.

Eddie takes a deep breath, trying to find the right words to express his thoughts. "It's just... seeing them together, it reminds me of what I lost," he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

Lisa nods understandingly. "You mean your relationship with Y/N?"

Eddie nods in response, taking a sip of the drink Lisa had given him. "I just... I don't know how to talk to her. Things ended so badly between us and I don't want to make things worse, but I also don't want it to end it up like that."

Lisa puts a comforting hand on Eddie's shoulder. "Have you tried reaching out to her? Maybe talking things through could help you both, I'm sure she would be happy to talk to you."

Eddie shakes his head. "I'm not that sure, She was really disappointed that day... I don't know if she'd want to talk to me about it."

Lisa takes another sip of her drink and looks at Eddie with a serious expression. "Look, I know that Y/N and you have some unresolved issues, and that's why you're feeling uneasy. But you know what I've learned over the years? Love is a tricky thing, and sometimes you have to take a leap of faith if you want to make it work."

Eddie nods slowly, taking in her words.

"I remember when Warren and I first started dating, I was so afraid to let my guard down and really let myself fall in love. But then I realized that if I didn't take a chance, I might miss out on something really special. And I'm so glad I did, because we have a beautiful life together."

She pauses for a moment, looking off into the distance. "And I know that Y/N is worth taking a risk for. If you think there's still something there between you two, then you owe it to yourself to at least try and talk to her. Who knows? Maybe it could be the start of something great."

Eddie looks at her, his mind racing with thoughts and emotions. He takes a deep breath and nods. "You're good at giving advice huh." He says with a slight smile.

"I try, have one with me and use the courage of alcohol to talk to her." She says holding out her bottle for him to toast, he does, clinking his bottle against hers.

As they take a sip, Eddie feels a sense of calm wash over him. He knows what he needs to do, and he's grateful for Lisa's words of encouragement.

"Thanks, Lisa. I appreciate it," he says, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Anytime," she replies with a warm smile. "Now go talk to Y/N. I have a feeling she's been waiting for this conversation for a long time."

Eddie nods, taking one last swig of his drink before setting it down on the bar. He takes a deep breath and turns to make his way over to you, ready to finally have that long overdue conversation.

You notice Lisa and Eddie talking before Lisa returns to Rojas, snuggling into his embrace. Rojas smiles and wraps his arms around his wife's waist, kissing her forehead before she whispers something in his ear. You catch a glimpse of Warren smirking and licking his lips before he stands up.

"I'll be right back, kids," he says with a chuckle.

Lisa guides Rojas to a more secluded spot and whispers to him, "Go for it," nodding in your direction. You don't notice, but Roundtree does, and he looks over at you with a small smile, he takes a deep breath before sitting down next to you.

Feeling his heart beating fast in his chest. He clears his throat before speaking. "So you and Warren, pretty good friends huh?" he asks, trying to keep his tone casual.

You raise your eyebrows and chuckles. "If I didn't know you so well I'd say you're jealous, Eddie Roundtree." You say, teasing him.

Eddie can't help but smile at your words. "Jealousy is a very strong word, maybe, but just maybe it bothered me a little bit," he admits, looking at you with a look that longed to see your reaction and he feels the butterflies in his stomach dance when he hears you laugh at what he said.

You look at Eddie, a smile playing on your lips. "Well, if you're bothered, you can just say so." You says, teasing him a bit.

Eddie smiles back, feeling a bit more relaxed. "I guess I am a little jealous." He admits, looking at you. "I mean, we used to be close like that, you and me."

You nod, understanding where he's coming from. "Yeah, we were. But things change, Eddie."

"I know. And I'm not trying to say that you shouldn't be friends with Warren or anything like that. It's just..." He trails off, not really sure how to put his feelings into words.

"Just what?" You prompt him, your eyes fixed on his.

"Just that...I miss you, gorgeous." Eddie says, his voice barely above a whisper.

You didn't know what to answer, so you just stared at him letting him speak. "I know that day you expected more from me, and I know everything got really messed up between us but I feel like there's so much we haven't talked about..." Eddie said quickly, and you noticing the anxiety building in him take one of your hands, conveying comfort.

He looks at your hand next to his and smiles, stroking your fingers and then continues. "I missed you every day since that day, I decided not to look for you because you didn't seem to want me around. I confess, I wasn't ready to see that disappointment look on your face again."

You take a deep breath and look at Eddie, the guilt weighing heavily on your heart. "Eddie, Don't put all the blame on yourself" you say, pausing for a moment to collect your thoughts. "I know that I played a part in everything that happened between us. It wasn't just you, it was me too."

Eddie looks at you, concern etched on his face waiting for you to continue.

"That day, I was so focused on my own insecurities and fears that I couldn't see past them," you say, feeling a lump form in your throat. "I didn't see that you were hurting too, that you were struggling just as much as I was."

Eddie's hand tightens around yours, and you squeeze back, grateful for the support. "I felt so insufficient, like I wasn't enough for you to want to stay and follow our dream," you continue, your voice shaking slightly. "And I took that out on you. I know now that it was wrong, and I'm so sorry for hurting you as well."

Eddie looks at you, a mixture of emotions on his face. "Y/N, don't say that. You were more than enough, you were my partner, my muse, my reason for living. But I can see why you felt that way, and I'm sorry for not making it all clear."

"It's okay..." you smile, resting your head on his shoulder, he smiles at the contact and you remain silent for a few seconds.

Eddie notices a guitar leaning in a farther corner, he excuses you and goes towards it soon returning with it. You watch him carefully, he starts strumming the instrument and it doesn't take long to recognize the melody.

"Do you remember this one we wrote together?" It keeps playing, humming the melody you created. "Our vacation after we had shot Aurora, the summer we spent in Malibu, just you and me?"

Y/N's eyes light up, "Of course I do. 'Lost in the Sun,' right?"

"I remember it like it was yesterday." He says laughing, and you watched him feeling that butterflies in your stomach that only he knew how to cause. "I woke up without you in bed, I looked for you all over the house and you were on the beach with the guitar in your hand, I sat by your side and listened to what you had composed so far."

"I honestly thought it was awful." You laugh, shyly remembering the occasion.

"It was the first time I heard you sing alone." He says and you are surprised by this information. "You asked me to help you complete the song but I stopped you..."

"That's when you told me you loved me for the first time." Involuntarily some tears appeared in your eye, you were sensitive remembering everything. "We didn't quite finish the song though, did we?" You ask, trying to remember exactly what happened that day.

Eddie grins at you, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Oh right, I remember now. We got a little distracted, didn't we?"

You roll your eyes playfully, a smirk on your lips. "A little? We totally forgot about the song!"

He chuckles, leaning in closer to you. "Hey, I think we were both pretty busy with other things," he says, his voice low and suggestive.

You giggle, swatting his arm lightly. "We were young and in love, what can I say?"

"That's exactly what I've been missing, you know?" He says smiling and you tighten your grip on his hand. "I've never felt so connected with someone as I did and feel with you."

"Eddie..." You didn't know exactly what to say to him, or what he wanted by saying that to you.

"You don't have to make any commitments to me." He assures you and involuntarily you ease up a little. "I know time has passed and well, things change. But promise me that at least this song we'll finish, please."

"I'd love to finish this with you Roundtree." You answer and he gets a bigger smile on his face.

You get up when you hear Daisy calling you from afar to talk to her and Graham, you say goodbye to Eddie and say you'll be right back but before leaving you turn to him again. "Our connection is unique, only you and I can reproduce. And I sure as hell won't let it die in Chicago." You say before heading towards the redhead

Eddie can't contain his smile, the feeling of anticipation rising inside him. He could feel all that Chicago had taken from him finally being released, as if now after so many years he had the chance to access all the "what ifs" he had created, he knew he couldn't screw things up now and he would do anything to make sure you never regretted the two of you.

...

Hi, I hope you enjoyed it... If you wanted to ask for something my requests are open, and if you want to ask and don't have any ideas check out my prompt list :) xoxo

Want to be tagged when new stories come out?

REASONSMANDY'S TAG LIST

#djats #daisy jones and the six #djats x reader #eddie roundtree x reader #eddie roundtree x fem!reader #eddie roundtree x y/n #eddie roundtree #eddie x y/n #eddie loving #eddie x fem!reader #daisy jones and the six fanfic #the dunne brothers #daisy jones & the six #daisy jones and the 6 #the six #joshua whitehouse #josh whitehouse #djatsedit #djats spoilers

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onedaughterofman · 1 year

Note

Heyoo! how are ya doing? Im unsure if you take requests because i can't navigate tumblr to save my life, but, if you do, could i ask for some Ghost bc x reader birthday comfort fic? like,,, hurt to comfort? yesterday was my birthday and i had a rlly bad day, like, boss screaming at me, ppl forgetting abt it, etc. Can be with anyone, the ghouls, papas, whichever flows better :) Gn reader if possible. If not thats ok! Hope you had a good day!

Hi! Listen, I'm not taking requests anymore BUT I had a draft laying around that could work with this, so I made some changes here and there. It's not perfect, but I hope you like it.

I know your birthday was some days ago, so happy (really) late birthday! ♥ I'm sorry to hear you had a hard time. Here is my gift to you.

Papa Emeritus II x g/n reader. Birthday fluff!

Summary: Secondo is a soft man at heart, with a secret talent he puts to good use for your birthday.

Tags: Rated T, kinda fatherly Secondo, fluff, platonic relationships.

A/N: Look at Papa doing his silly little dance!

“What’s that?”

Papa’s hand hangs in front of your eyes, a big white ceramic plate resting on it. “Torta paradiso,” he replies, delicately swaying the place to one side and then the other. “All'arancia”.

Alright. That you can see and smell. The delicate yet strong fragrance of the orange permeates the air, making your mouth salivate. The cake looks simple, barely decorated with a bit of powdered sugar and orange zest on the top.

However, you don’t understand why Secondo is placing it right in front of your face, making it serpent like it’s tempting you to sin. “I can see that,” you continue, sitting straight on the couch. The heavy blankets fall around your waist and the cold air hits your skin, sending shivers down your arms and legs. “Where did you get it?”

“I made it myself.”

Oh.

That’s… something you didn’t see coming. A man like Secondo, who always looks angry and intimidating, doesn’t seem to be the type to spend any time in the kitchen baking something as delicate as a cake. Even more, he not only made it, but now he’s proudly displaying it to you.

“I didn’t know you could bake.”

“Can’t an old man have a hobby?”

Tripping over your words, you hurry to reassure him that it wasn’t your intention to question him. Secondo only laughs, a bitter but somehow calm sound that fills the air with warmth. He takes a sit next to you, motioning to move away the blankets. The ceramic plate is placed on the little coffee table.

For a few seconds, Secondo stares at the TV. There’s an old movie there, a cartoon you used to watch when you were years and years younger. This movie always brought comfort to you, awakening memories of hot beverages and butter cookies, of old friends and cozy socks.

Life used to be simpler before. Then, shit happened. Shit always happens, but it hits harder on days like these.

On your birthday.

No one remembered it. This day was just another day, only heavier on the heart. Maybe it’s all your fault. You are fool, as you have constantly been. Year after year, you hope for things to be different, better somehow.

A certain type of sadness fills your body and soul on your birthday. A sadness that walks behind, hugging your back and whispering heavy words in your ears.

No one cared.

No one celebrated it.

No one.

To your left, Secondo sighs. The sound halts the tears that were beginning to form on your eyes. In a swift movement, you hurry to clean any remnant of it, hoping he doesn’t notice it.

If he does, Papa says nothing. He merely reaches out to the plate, cutting a slice of cake before carefully placing it on a napkin. His gloved hand extends in your direction, leaving no place to deny him. You take it.

His gaze is intense and expectant, full of an emotion you can’t quite discern when you take the first bite. Is he nervous? Is he anxious? He’s looking right into your soul, analyzing every little twitch of your eyebrows and searching for any reaction.

The sweet and fresh taste of the cake fills your mouth. The texture is soft, airy and delicate, and the taste of orange and vanilla is comforting. You nod, a smile on your lips. “This is so good!”

“I’m happy to hear that,” he says, letting himself fall on the couch. For another long moment, he stays in silence. His eyes absentmindedly look into the TV, before closing as he exhales. “Happy birthday, kid.”

“You remembered it?”

“Isn’t it a Papa’s duty to remember this stuff?”

Right. A duty. It’s foolish to think a busy man like Papa Emeritus II went out of his way to do something for your birthday, out of the kindness of his heart.

Maybe it’s the way your gaze obscures, or the heavy lump on your weary shoulders, but he hurries to continue. “I mean, I care about every Sibling. I know most of us don’t fit outside this Ministry, but we are a family here. If we have nothing else, at least we have each other.”

The strange softness in his eyes makes you swallow dry. Papa is a stern man, someone who mostly keeps to himself when he’s not surrounded by women. And yet, there’s something deep inside his pupils, a dark veil of emotions that tells you he understands.

Papa is a sad, sensitive and lonely man at heart. “Do you really like it?” he questions, after a beat. “I wasn’t sure if I wanted to make this or a torta caprese.”

“I liked it,” you repeat. Papa smiles, reaching out to wipe a bit of powered sugar from the corner of your mouth.

“So, what are we watching?”

Excitement filling your voice, you explain. Papa listens, nodding a few times in an effort to encourage you to keep talking. When the movie continues, his eyes remain on the screen for a few minutes before you detect the faint sound of his snores.

Oh, well. Papa is also an exhausted, old man. Leaning closer to his body, you wrap the corner of the blanket around him. Head on his shoulder, you take a deep breath and close your eyes too.

#ghost band #ghost band fanfic #papa emeritus ii #papa secondo #papa emeritus ii x reader #my writing #my fics #ask box

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freddieslater · 26 days

Note

For the "make me write" thing, can I say two? Bigger than the Whole Sky and Guardian Enzo :)

Of course you can!

Bigger than the Whole Sky

Stefan is the first thing that Valerie sees. She's barely awake, and she isn't sure she even really is at all. Not until she feels the very real caress of his fingers against her cheek, wiping away a tear that had escaped in her sleep.

Stefan's eyes widen, and he is speaking. Shouting for someone. Then he turns back to her, and his voice floods with alarming relief as he says, 'You're okay.'

'Am I?' she asks uncertainly. Her heart pounds desperately against her ribcage, begging for escape. She can't put her finger on why, but the feeling travels through her, engulfing her. 'What happened?'

His brow furrows, but he softly says, 'You collapsed. One of the nurses said it was from exhaustion, and...' he looks down, at their clasped hands, 'because of the trauma you suffered. Your body shut down trying to protect you.'

Valerie's heart stutters. 'Trauma?' It's all coming back to her, piece by piece, images flashing before her eyes and kicking her in stomach until she can no longer breathe. 'Is it...'

Stefan's eyes widen again and he shakes his head profusely. 'No! No, the nurses said...'

He stops again, the words caught in his throat. He swallows thickly.

'The baby is alright,' he says, breathless.

Valerie understands; the four words wind her, too.

Guardian Enzo (I've been reading your tags everytime you reblog one of my posts and I thought you'd be interested to know that this is actually a sequel to the 7 year old Elena fic!)

'I'm Elena.'

'Damon.'

Elena's head jolts oddly. She frowns, trying to figure out the odd sense of deja vu, but she can't put her finger on it for the life of her. It's not like she's ever met anyone with that name before - she'd definitely remember that.

'What's wrong?' Damon asks, noticing her confusion. His mouth quirks up into a slight smirk. 'Never heard that one before?'

'No, the opposite,' she admits before she can stop herself, then shakes her head as she realizes her own ridiculousness. 'At least, I think, anyway. Deja vu, I guess.'

Damon's smirk falls a centimetre. 'Huh.' Then it softens back out into a smile as he says, 'I could say the same.'

Before she can ask what he means, her phone starts ringing. 'Oh, that's my mom. My parents must be here.'

She glances over her shoulder in search of the car, but when she turns back, Damon is gone. She searches the dark road for any sign of his reatreating form but if he's there, he's blending too well with the shadows for her to pick him apart from the trees. A shiver runs down her spine the longer she looks.

Wrapping her arms around herself, she finally answers her phone and starts walking back in the direction of the party. 'Hey, Mom. Yeah, I'm just coming. Yeah, I told him. I'm fine, Mom, I just feel really bad about it. I never want to upset him, but I couldn't lie to him anymore.'

#alfhildr-the-word-weaver #ask away earthlings!#make me write #tvd #the vampire diaries #stalerie #stefan salvatore #valerie tulle #elena gilbert #damon salvatore #my wips #fanfiction stuff

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mannerofwhump · 2 years

Text

Just run and run and run

Whumptober day 2 - nowhere to run | cornered | caged | confrontation

content: villain whump, (probably) failed escape attempt

tell me if i missed anything

———

Villain dashed across the hallways, searching searching searching for an exit. They didn’t even know where they were anymore, the compound enough of a labyrinth that the only chance they had to have any clue where they were were if they’d studied the layout in advance. Which they hadn’t. It occurred to Villain that an escape attempt like they were doing right now was probably the reason it was designed the way it was. But that didn’t stop them from trying. They had to find a way out, they had to.

Hallway after hallway, they found more hallways, more doors, more rooms to get lost in. Villain didn’t even know if they were back where they started. Couldn’t even tell.

It didn’t help when they remembered the tracking chip Hero had planted in them.

Just run just run just run, Villain repeated in their head, like a mantra. You can worry about everything else later, but for now just run.

Suddenly, they skid to a stop. Why did this place have dead ends? They were turning around when…

“Damn, you’re pretty good at not finding dead ends, you know that? I’ve been waiting for you to get yourself stuck in one for the longest time. Much easier than chasing you around everywhere, don’t you think?”

Hero leaned against the wall, smiling, as if they were old friends catching up instead of old enemies, one about to be caught by the other. Villain inhaled sharply. No! Hero can’t be here already! They had hoped… well, they had hoped to escape, even though the chance was so slim. They’d thought they’d be able to make it.

Hope was a fickle thing. There, and then gone. There, and then taken away.

They tried to stop their trembling—ineffectively—and mustered a wobbly grin. “Maybe you should stop chasing after me like a deranged fangirl altogether.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Yes, Villain would like that very much, actually.

They didn’t answer.

Hero stepped closer, and closer, and closer. Villain grin fell completely, and they backed themself against the wall. Their breaths came quicker and quicker, until they barely felt as if they were getting any air at all. Their lungs burned, and so did their eyes.

“St-stop.”

Hero did not.

“Aw, scared of a little fangirl? The big bad villain can do better than that, I hope.”

Villain sobbed, words failing them as they slowly fell to the ground, their nightmare approaching them.

“Tell you what”—Villain looked up at Hero—“I’ll give you five more minutes to find your way out. Wouldn’t that be fun?” They could hear the amusement dripping from Hero’s voice.

Their eyes widened, tear tracks shining in the hallway lights. They could do that. They could work with that. They had to do it.

Villain scrambled to stand up shakily, eyeing Hero. They inched closer to the end of the hallway, closer to Hero, breath held. Then they were inching away from Hero, freedom closer but still so far away. Then they ran. Villain did not look back, didn’t need to. They had five minutes and they intended to use it.

Hope was a fickle thing, indeed.

———

Gotta go fast!

ask to be added to the taglist!

@kira-the-whump-enthusiast

@spookyboywhump

(idk if y’all want to be tagged in general drabbles or just that series, feel free to ask to be removed)

#whumptober2022 #no.2 #nowhere to run #cornered #OC #fic #failed escape attempt #well. probably #whump #whump community #whumblr #villain whump #villain whumpee #hero whumper #whump writing #my writing #writing #hehe better late than never

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coquinespike · 1 year

Note

Sooooooo I just realized you tagged one of my artworks as SessRin but it’s… not? I’m not a SessRin shipper. It’s tagged as Sesshomaru x Rin, but the portrayal of them is suppose to be a father-daughter dance for Valentine’s Day… though I guess it could be misconstrued otherwise.

Anyway, I just thought I’d clear that up, even though I don’t really owe an explanation to anybody, it just kinda bothered me a little bit that I forgot to put in some context. It’s even been posted to Dokuga, but there was an issue on the site which made me give up on re-writing my description over and over. XD

It took me awhile (thanks to tumblrs Very Functional search feature) but I found my reblog and have edited the tags. I knew it had to be from awhile ago, thanks to yashahime I pretty much never reblog sessrin stuff anymore, it has soured my taste for the ship. Like I’m still fine with it existing, and I hope people who hardcore ship it find yashahime’s version as terrible as I do, but I rarely want to see it on my dash lol. I do remember this post though, I tagged it sessrin because when I read “Name x Name” to me that implies romantic ship, same with “Name/Name” and “Namesmash.” Platonic ship I’m used to seeing it as “Name & Name,” but that may just be because I’m Old™️ lol

I’m also gonna use this ask to spread the word to ANY artist whose stuff I’ve reblogged: if you don’t like the way I’ve tagged your art, PLEASE don’t hesitate to let me know and I will gladly edit it if you’d prefer (don’t be a dick about it, obviously). Sometimes I make jokes in the tags, sometimes it’s just me mumbling my thoughts, sometimes I go just batshit in the tags. If you don’t like one of my tags on your work, shoot me a message please. I’m a very reasonable person! Promise!

Way back shortly after I’d first joined tumblr and I had barely worked out how the site functioned, I HAD at least parsed out that commenting on a post was “loud” and tags were “quiet” so I used the tags extensively when voicing my thoughts on a post. Well an artist took issue with one of my tags and immediately blocked me, but first she screenshotted my post (username and all) to post on her own blog to ridicule me to her presumably many followers and tbh it was very upsetting to me and to this day I still don’t understand why she didn’t just message me about it. Alas!

#thanks for the ask!

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captains-simp · 3 years

Note

Hi bestieeee, congratulations on 1K!!! I have a request for you!! Mommy!Nat or Dark!Nat blackmailing R into sex or else R would be fired?? Thank you

I wonder who this request is from?🤔

2.8k words

Warnings: dub-con (bordering on non-con), coercion, blackmail, unhealthy power dynamic, oral sex (giving), praise, strap on sex and cum filled strap on

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You knew Natasha was coming before you saw her; before you even heard the chilling sound of her heels against the polished floors of the 46th level. You knew because you saw it in your coworkers eyes. You saw the way they cowered behind their desks and averted their eyes or made a swift exit from the area entirely. You knew because that was just how it worked at Romanoff Industries.

You were lucky enough to have your own office. Well, that should have made you lucky in avoiding Natasha's piercing gaze but it did not. Most of the time she stalked down the area outside your office she came straight to you and even if it wasn't her destination she would be sure to look in as she went by.

That was one of your less fortunate days, she was coming to see you and it wasn't to deliver a compliment about your hard work. Your boss let herself into your office without knocking and strolled over to your desk, her hips swaying in the mesmerising way they always did in those incredibly tight skirts.

"What happened to that report that was meant to be sent to me hours ago?" She demanded as she stood in front of your desk.

"Apparently someone picked up on some faults of the latest design so we can't do anything right now." You tried to explain but Natasha never did like excuses. "I don't know when it will be fixed." You continued.

"And you didn't think to tell me this?" Natasha glared.

"I thought someone would have told you." You were right, a lot of someone's had told the redhead, but apparently she needed to hear it from you too. "It's not my job to." You couldn't help but add. You knew Natasha hated when people pointed out things she didn't want to hear, more so when they did so confidently. You were one of the few who managed it, maybe that was why Natasha seemed to have it out for you. It was just a compulsion to you, to one up your boss. Even if it rarely succeeded.

You had always had mixed feelings about Natasha. Sometimes you thought when she went home at night she venturer into some cave that led to the pits of hell where she returned to her rightful throne. Other times that tough and stubborn show she put on was nothing short of admirable. There was no doubt it was what got her her success and therefore gave you a job. It was just hard to deal with when it was aimed at you individually, or what you could argue felt like personally.

"Don't give me that." She snapped. You were aware of all the eyes of your coworkers looking in on the pair of you and hanging on every word that was exchanged.

"You know full fucking well if something you're doing is going to be delayed you tell me." She was leaning both hands on your desk and leaning over to get closer to you. With such a short distance between you you had no choice but to stare back into her forest green eyes, like hell you were going to look away and back down.

"You can write that fucking report anyway. I want it on my desk today." Today? There was no way you could get that done in office hours, you would have to be working long past when you were meant to usually go home. "And when the design has been fixed you can write another one on it." She was testing you, willing you to say something you would regret. You weren't going to fall into her trap.

"Okay." You said, holding her gaze.

She didn't say anything else. Natasha stood there for another few seconds to watch you, waiting for something, anything. Then she stood back up straight and headed towards the door that she slammed closed behind her and marched back to her own luxury office.

That could have been an email.

It was approaching midnight when you finished the report. You were about to email it to Natasha when you remembered she wanted it in paper form so you begrudgingly sent it off to the printer.

It was a waste of paper you thought as you trudged over to the elevator that quickly arrived as there was no one else in the building. You figured Natasha just wanted to be that extra bit difficult. Well, you knew that was what she was trying to do.

You had worked with Natasha for longer than most, you knew her. Or rather, you knew the front she painted. You knew what annoyed her, what she wanted, what she thought of certain people and you could predict how she would conduct business down to the exact price tag of a product. But you didn't know her personally, sometimes you wondered if there was anyone who did.

You knocked on your bosses door and waited until she called for you to come in. You planned to simply walk in, put the paper on her desk and walk out to go home but once you were several steps past the door Natasha called for you to close it.

She didn't look up at you as you trudged across the ridiculously big office and put the papers down. It was only when you turned around that she spoke again.

"Stay." Was all said. You bite back a comment about not being a dog.

You turned back around and expected some speech and your attitude earlier but continued making notes on a design plan like you weren't even in the room. A few minutes of you fidgeting on your feet and looking around the office for anything interesting, Natasha picked up your report and leaned back in her chair to read it. She showed no signs that you had done a good or bad job with the report.

Finally, she put the paper down on her desk and went back to the plans. "Close the door behind you." Was all she said. You clenched your jaw and rolled your eyes once turned around to finally leave and go home.

"Don't roll your eyes at me, y/n."

Turns out it wasn't as simple as writing two reports. Design after design failed. First there was a slight issue with the batteries, then the shape, then it somehow became a liability. You mentioned all these faults in your reports, as you legally had to, but it became tedious very quickly. You always hated paperwork. It was meant to be such a small part of your job. You could only hope the sudden increase was temporary, especially as it wasn't exactly one of your strengths.

You continued to work over time and met Natasha late at night, always having to wait until she finished reading till you could leave. You thought you had to be doing at least a good job with them for your boss to never say anything, because she was always ready to point out small errors. That was until one particular night.

"These reports are getting worse." Natasha scolded. The comment made your blood boil. They were certainly not getting worse, maybe the designs were but you knew it was no fault of yours.

"The designs don't work." You fired back and crossed your arms. You had been worked tirelessly on those reports and they only stated the facts.

"Do you even care about your job, y/n?" Natasha asked seriously, angering you more.

"I've sacrificed more than I ever thought I could for a job for this company."

"You're on thin fucking ice, l/n. With the way things are going I'd be in a right mind to fire you." ...what the fuck?!

"What?" It came out as more of a whisper. After everything that you had done for the company and the years you had spent there, Natasha wouldn't really fire you, would she?

"Unless you're willing to make up for it all." She said seriously with something unmistakably dark in her tone.

"I don't more extra hours than anyone here." You said, not knowing what else she could mean.

"Not more than me, something takes quite the toll. I can hardly fit the time in to distress anymore. That's where you come in." Natasha explained as she stood up from her chair and sauntered around to the other side of the desk, the sound of her heels clicking echoing around the room.

There was a long moment of silence when Natasha left barely any space between you. You searched her eyes for any hint of what she was referring to but inevitably found nothing. Until she suddenly pushed you down onto your knees in front of her.

"Show me what other skills you have and maybe I'll consider letting you stay." She smirked down at you and ran the back of her hand across your cheek before cupping your jaw. "Entirely your call."

"Natasha this is crazy." You tried to reason but it was hard to ignore the faint throbbing you felt from being on your knees for her. "I could tell someone." For the first time ever, you heard her laugh. She threw her head back in a mocking laugh that soon turned into taunting chuckles.

"Y/n, who would believe you over me? You can be my guest and try but you'll never have another job in this city again, maybe further if I feel like it." She shrugged. You gulped and felt your breathing shake. Fuck.

Natasha, apparently impatient, hiked up her skirt and leant back against her desk to look at you expectantly. Your mouth suddenly went dry when you caught sight of her bare pussy, having not had any underwear on. You wondered if she often sat around like that. If she sauntered around the building and into your office where you could easily let your fingers wander up her skirt. Did she always leave them off for you?

"If you want to keep your job I suggest you get to work." She spoke. You tentatively moved forward and gripped onto her thighs for support, still looking up at her for any signs of a tell.

She was positively soaked. You could see her clenching in anticipation, the sight and musky smell entirely inviting. So you licked a long strip of the redhead's folds and moaned at the sweet taste of her. Sweetness was hardly what you expected given the tough and cold exterior of your boss, you hadn't expected it to be so instantly addictive either.

You pushed your tongue further inside the redhead who gave a breathy moan in response. At that, your mind was made. You sucked harshly on Natasha's clit and felt it pulse rapidly between your lips before returning your tongue to where she needed it most.

"Look at how much you're enjoying this." Natasha smirked as she looked down at the beyond contented glint in your eyes. "So good at pleasing you like mommy."

You worked your tongue tirelessly inside her, spurred on by the blissful sounds that fell from the redhead's mouth with every flick and curl of your muscle. You were lost in the incomparable taste of her and hoped it would be something that lingered on your tongue for a while. You were in awe of the way her mouth hung open in a silent scream as her eyes clenched shut every time your tongue brushed against some beautiful nerve ending. The sounds she made when you did so rivalled the faux sweetness of a siren's song. You knew the dangers of being lulled too far but you wanted to explore it entirely, convinced there was some hidden beauty that no one else could see.

"Fuck, so good." Your grip on Natasha's thigh tightened when her hold on the back of your neck did. She started to buck her hips against your mouth and her breathing patterns became more irregular. Your boss seemed lost in the pleasure she was experiencing from you as her eyes shut firmly and her movements became more erratic. But even then she held onto her power over you.

"I want you to swallow every last fucking drop." She ordered and gasped when your nose bumped against her clit. You picked up the pace of your tongue, making sure to swipe it against all the spots you had learnt made her shudder.

Her nails were practically digging into your neck when she reached her high. Her breath got caught in her throat before she gave the most animalistic moan you had ever heard. She furiously bucked her hips against your face as she rode out her high and relished in every wave of pleasure.

She recovered impressively quickly and was still raring to go, apparently having more plans for the night. She smiled down at you with a glint of the devil in her eye as she stood back and turned around to retrieve something from her desk, telling you to sit on her chair.

You were anticipating Natasha to return the favour, especially given how much she clearly enjoyed what you had to offer. Instead, she slipped a harness through your legs and pulled it up to your waist where she fastened it to sit securely. It was only when she moved away that you saw the size of the red toy, standing proudly and daringly. You wouldn't be surprised if your boss couldn't make it fit, yet again about to see that you really didn't know her. She was unpredictable and nothing short of it.

Natasha straddled your legs until her knees hit the backrest of her chair and her cunt was lined up with the toy. You went to hold her waist to guide her but your boss grabbed your wrists harshly and pinned them to the chair either side of you with a warning look.

She lowered herself onto the toy and groaned when the head of the toy alone started to stretch her. She kept her strong grip on your wrists as she looked more of the strap and you could only watch on in awe as the fake cock disappeared inside her.

Natasha moaned loudly and paused half way to adjust herself and breathe heavily before slamming herself down on the rest of the toy. "God." She grunted. "Mommy feels so full."

"Let me help you mommy." You tried but she shook her head.

"You don't get to touch right now." Was all she said before she lifted herself partly off the toy and slammed back down drawing another beautiful moan.

Your boss continued this for a while until she found herself in a rhythm that pleasured her deeply. You could see her juices smeering the toy everytime she withdrew and the sight alone made you groan, you already wanted to taste her again.

She rode you with vigor as her pace increased as did her grip on you. Profanities spilled from her mouth like a song that you wanted to join in with but you were too fixated on the sight infront of you. Natasha's bra clearly wasn't all that supportive because her breasts bounced with each thrust downwards and you wished more than anything that you could reach out and take her top and bra off to cup them, even tweak her nipples between your fingers to see her squeal.

"Gonna cum- fuck! Mommy's gonna cum on your cock and you're going to fill me up more." She said between moans and gasps. You didn't really understand what she meant by fill her up more but you weren't going to object, not when you wanted to see her cum again so badly.

She suddenly let your right hand go and grabbed on to the back of the harness. You were confused until you felt something click and Natasha was moaning louder than she had all night. "Your cum feels so good in me." She all but screamed before jerking her hips wildly and cumming around the toy.

She fell forwards slightly and grinded against the toy to ride out her high desperately. You gripped her hips with your free hand and moaned when you saw some of the cum leaking out of Natasha's pussy.

With a groan, you pulled your other hand out of the redhead's grasp and lifted her up and down onto her desk where she looked up at you with blissful eyes. "Don't go thinking you have any control." Natasha sneered but gasped when you withdrew the strap and snapped your hips forwards again.

"We'll see."

#natasha romanoff imagines #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff #dark!marvel #dark!natasha romanoff

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4joonkookie · 3 years

Text

27 Candles

💜 Pairing: Namjoon x Reader

💜 Words: 3.5K

💜 Summary:

A 12 hour diary of Namjoon’s 27th birthday.

💜 Tags/Warnings:

Smut, angst, breakup, DaddyJoon, Dom/sub, Daddykink, collars, Daddy/Babygirl, birthday sex, breakup sex, makeup sex, blindfolded sex, butt play, rough sex, spanking, riding, grinding, dirty talk, back scratching, fluff, Happy Birthday to the only man I’d call Daddy, not beta read, wish I had more time.

2:30 PM

After spending hours agonizing over your approach, you call Namjoon to wish him a happy birthday. It’s been a while since you’ve heard his voice. The low rumble sends vibrations through your body.

“We should celebrate,” you insist, exposing your ulterior motive.

“What do you want to do?” he muses.

You're quiet for a while, then take a deep breath.

“It's your birthday. I want you to tell me.”

The request is bold, but subtle enough. He lets out a low laugh, a knowing one, and clears his throat.

“Yeah?” his voice lowers, probably in an area with others. “You wanna be my good girl? Be good to me?”

“Yes,” you reply, just as low though, no one is around you. “I want you to have what you want for your birthday.”

Arousal pools in your belly while you fidget with your nervous hands.

“I like that idea,” he hums. “So I'll come by the apartment when I'm done?”

“No,” you assert, disrupting your compliance. “Can I see your new place?”.

He’s had his own place for over a month now but the place you shared is still “the apartment”.

“Sure, there’s not much there. It’s basically empty,” he replies.

You assure him that's just fine. Adjusting to living in “the” apartment without him has been hard enough. A new, less familiar place might make it easier. A place not-so-lived-in.

A place he can’t leave you again.

He’s quiet for a long time again before speaking.

“Is this a good idea?” he asks, in the exhale of a heavy sigh. His tone has changed, reality settling in.

“No,” you confirm, shaking your head although you’re alone.

The line is hushed, again. The silence is heavy with all of the unspoken “I miss you”, “I need you”, “something is missing without you”.

You both know where this goes, neither having the strength to step away.

3:37 PM

When the elevators open to his apartment corridor, there is a young woman kneeling at the door. Heart pounding, you walk slowly, keeping your head down and avoid eye contact altogether when she stands and begins to walk toward you. You quickly turn your head and breathe a sigh of relief to see her disappear behind the elevator doors.

A decorative basket sits at the front doorstep. You snatch it up, enter the lock code quickly and shut the door behind you.

The basket holds a bottle of champagne on dry ice. Also, a pair of lace panties. Two fixture items, surrounded by decorative flowers, candies and a notecard.

The note is a handwritten message about missing Namjoon on his birthday and a promise of wearing the panties “next time”; a drawn heart and scribbled name.

You open the champagne, chug from the bottle and toss the rest to the trash, attempting to discard the jealousy panging in your gut.

The breakup was two months ago. You hadn’t exactly agreed to “be friends”, it just happened. Though, you haven’t seen each other in person since he moved his things out.

You take in the view of the place. It’s enormously empty. The refrigerator and cabinets are empty, a layer of dust covering the bottom of the inside. A laptop and recording equipment are the only things set up in the living room alongside a couch. The Bedroom has no walls and sits on a raised platform in the living room, a total bachelor pad. Condom wrappers lay on the bedside table near the unmade bed. The bathroom counter, cluttered with his products and potions. You pick up the bottles one by one, searching for what’s new about him. Finally, the closet. You choose a shirt and to put on and discard everything else.

Your phone buzzes, Namjoon saying he’ll be there in about an hour. It’s sooner than you thought but you order groceries anyway. It always takes longer for him to get home than he says.

“Home.” You think. This isn’t home.

4:58 PM

Surprisingly on time, he arrives carrying handfuls of delivered bags.

“You bought groceries?” He uses his foot to close the door behind him.

“Yes,” you reply, removing bags from his hands. “Why don’t you have groceries? Just hire someone to do it.”

“Why hire someone when you’re willing to do it for me?”

“I didn’t,” you banter. “I hired someone to do it.” You shrug.

You close the refrigerator behind you. His phone starts to ring, he silences it.

“Where did you get champagne?” He questions.

When you casually mention the name of the woman who signed the card, he stiffens. Checks his phone, frantic.

“You talked to her?” He remains calm, but you can tell he’s uneasy.

“Yeah, I ran into her dropping this off on my way in. She’s sweet,” you string him along, feeling a little bratty “She said she wishes she could’ve seen you on your birthday.”

He gives you a long look and you hold his gaze.

“Liar!” he laughs, approaching you. His demeanor is calming, his smile relieves something in that “something is missing” category.

“How do you know her name?” He asks curiously.

You stall, not wanting to admit your resentful gesture.

“Oh there was a note, I must’ve misplaced it,” you say, appearing (hopefully-to-be) absent-minded.

He reaches a hand to peek in the trash can. Before he can, his phone rings again. He silences it immediately.

“Is that her?” You ask, casual, distracting.

He shifts uncomfortably but is honest. “We were going to meet up today. I cancelled.”

You tilt your head. “You said you didn’t have plans.”

“I didn’t,” he says plainly.

You hide a shy smile, briefly ducking your head. “And if I hadn’t invited myself over?” you tease.

“I’d be wishing you had.” He gets closer and a familiar electricity buzzes through you. He rests his hands too comfortably on your back, pulling you in, hugging you too tight, smelling your hair.

“I missed you,” He nuzzles his cheek to yours, brushing against you. The moves are slow, requainting.

His lips press against yours and you feel yourself slipping back into him. You try to shake off the feeling, remembering what you discussed on the phone.

“So, what do you want?”

He follows along, seemingly eager to take the edge off of these heavy feelings for a while too. He guides you back to the wall.

You can feel the undertones changing. His gaze darkens, your body being enclosed in his arms.

A hand moves to your bare neck, strokes the soft skin. Your heartbeat quickens. After some back and forth, you ultimately decided not to wear the collar. Not his to claim anymore, anyway. He silently acknowledges the absence of it and moves to your waist.

“It was very rude of you to throw away my things just because you’re jealous.”

“Not jealous,” you pout, and his lips drag against your neck. He bites down at your words causing you to gasp. He pins your hands above your head, against the wall while continuing work on your neck.

“Say it,” he chides. “Tell me how jealous you are that someone else can be good for me.”

Your blood boils, thinking of the woman at the door, condoms on the nightstand.

“And how many good girls do you have?” You query, calmly.

He squeezes your wrists above you. “Say it. And I'll tell you.”

You sigh heavily and give in. “Ok, I’m jealous, you admit.

He giggles between kisses on your skin. “I know.”

“So? How many?” Not giving in to his touch yet, still wanting to know.

He shrinks the grip on your wrists to one hand and uses the other to brush a finger against your lip.

“There are many girls who are good to me but I have only one good girl.”

He releases your wrists and your lips crash together, tongues passing sloppily. You drink each other in after months apart.

“Don’t move,” he instructs, and pulls away. You stand still, watching him disappear into the bedroom. He quickly reemerges with hands behind his back.

“Turn around,” he says, before he can make it all the way back to you.

Without hesitation, you turn and place both hands on the wall, bracing yourself. You feel his presence behind you and it all goes black. A silky fabric drapes over your eyes, a knot being tied just behind your head.

You reach behind yourself to grab at him. “What are you doing?!” The sudden darkness is startling, shocking.

He wraps arms tight around your body to still you.

“Shhh….,” he soothes. This is what I want.” A hand slides beneath the hem of your panties, circling fingers at your wet center, free arm holding you tight to his chest.

He raises his fingers to your lips, offering a taste of yourself.

When you release his fingers, he loosens his grasp on your body and grips a hand at the back of your neck. You straighten up on two feet.

“Walk,” he demands.

After walking a ways, your back hits the mattress.

You can’t see him but his hands are hot on your skin, traveling in unseen paths. You can hear your breath, loud. The quiet in the room is loud.

It’s dark, but the fear begins to fade. All other senses are heightened.

There is a sense of right with his hands on your skin again, lips on yours again, his scent filling your nostrils again, feeling his weight above you again.

He drags his tongue slowly down the center of your body, between your breasts, over your navel and fastens his mouth to your center making you squirm as he sucks below, arms hooked around your thighs.

He licks lovingly, skillfully, and pulls away too soon. He pulls you up by your arms and guides you to sit up.

“Show me what a good girl you are?” he whispers above you. The whisper is crystal clear, echoing in your ears.

You nod into the darkness and hear him removing clothes. Cock free, he pushes the tip to your lips and pushes in slow, to the back of your throat, holding himself there.

“No hands,” he warns. He slides out just as slowly and you do your best to control your gags.

He pushes in again, too quickly and deep. You pull away, coughing and trapping his shaft with your hand.

“No.” he pushes your hand away. He grabs your chin, prying your jaw open and pushes in again. Drool spills and tears moisten the fabric over your eyes. He grabs the back of your head and pushes it flush against his pelvis, no room for grabby hands.

You choke and back off of it, using both hands this time to remove it. You cough when he pulls out, a string of saliva still connecting you.

It’s been a while since you've done this but somehow, it’s more difficult because you can’t see.

“Bend Over,” he growls.

You turn over and feel the familiar caress over your cheek before he moves, muscle memory. He lays a hard smack and you moan, spine lighting up. You smile gleefully to yourself. A familiar warmth overtakes you.

“You’re out of practice,” he taunts, “Need to remember how to behave.”

Another hit, and you cry out again. Spanks, all the more exciting and titillating behind a blindfold.

“You want to give Daddy what he wants, you said?” you hear his voice from behind you.

You nod, zoned in on your lack of vision.

You don’t sense the next hit coming, it’s so much more intense. You’ve been punished for not using words. Without hesitation, they come spilling out.

“Yes, Daddy.”

This.

This was definitely missing. Not so much that you need to be punished but that you want to be tamed.

And no one does it like him.

He slides two fingers into you from behind. You moan and buck back, bouncing on his fingers.

He leans down to lap you, licking up from your pussy and his fingers up to your ass, prodding his tongue inside the tight muscle.

He moves away and you hear the click of a bottle. Cold lube spills over your exposed skin.

Two fingers still in your pussy, He gruffly pushes a third to your bum, pouring more lube with a free hand. He pushes to the webbing of his hand and holds it, giving you time to adjust.

“Good girl loves being filled up, huh?”

You nod before catching yourself. “Yes, Daddy.”

He adds a second finger inside, two in each opening now, scissoring and stretching you open.

You sob, everything feeling that much more intense and full in the dark.

He pulls his fingers out of your body with a lewd pop.

“Are you ready to try again?.”

“Yes.” Something clicks in your mind and has your body assuming the previous position.

The shock of the sensory change and overwhelming emotion before had you too frantic, unable to focus.

Now, bridled in just the right way, he pushes into your throat with no objections from your body, only eager acceptance.

He begins thrusting at the back of your throat. You relax your jaw and control your gags. The darkness isn’t so startling anymore. It helps you focus on controlling your muscles, a meditation almost. You grip the sheets to keep your hands away.

He pulls out and you try to even your desperate breath, swallowing pooled saliva.

He tests your compliance, pushing to the back again, using two hands to hold your head down, letting your face slide off silently.

“There she is,” he strokes your hair as you wipe your mouth. “There’s my good girl.”

The praise fuels you, feeling pleased and settled.

He turns you over again and slides inside right away, slapping hips against you. You whimper and move your body with his.

You nearly ascend when he pushes his index finger into your stretched ass while still thrusting inside.

His cock thrusts against your g spot and presses against his finger behind your walls.The repeated pressure on both sides makes your knees shake. The sound you make is almost primal, body falling limp, spiraling through an orgasm.

He frees his hands and pushes your shoulders flat to the bed to slam inside. You lay, boneless as he grunts and growls through his own orgasm.

Falling beside you, he removes the blindfold and gestures for you to lay on his chest.

He pets and strokes the places he’s left marks. He slides his thumb along your worked jaw.

You didn’t realize how badly you’ve missed this feeling of safe, being claimed again.

8:09 PM

Limbs draped together laying on the bed, Namjoon carries on about his most recent lyric-writing.

Words, spilling out a mile a minute, eyes focused outward, trying to find a lyrical solution by talking aloud.

You study him, just as you always had. The same ,familiar motions and conversation but a different background.

It’s unmistakable.

It’s not any particular location that’s “lived-in”. This place echoes with empty and still smells of fresh paint.

It’s the relationship, the vibes. You and Namjoon are lived-in.

His voice, his touch. You know it’s everything you need but know it won’t last. You broke up for a reason, a dark cloud lingering over your temporary reconnection.

You try not to think of it, letting this temporary elation carry you both to the point where you must eventually take stock of what’s happening and acknowledge that you’re worse together, no matter how good it feels right now.

Despite your silent spiral, he continues talking, unbothered. You watch him, endeared, absorbing every morsel of himself he has to offer before you part again.

Eventually, he catches himself. “Sorry, should I stop?”

You climb on top of him and snag the nearby blindfold. You playfully spread it over his mouth and a giggle erupts from underneath. You slide it up to his eyes, mimicking your position from earlier. He inhales sharply and smiles.

You take his earlobe into your mouth and suck marks to his collarbone, not caring of the consequences. He doesn’t stop you, hissing and grabbing at your hair.

You relish In taking him like this, the breakup, giving you freedom to reciprocate this notion and him, the freedom to surrender to it.

You lean down and graze your teeth over his nipples, a secret sensitive spot.

He gasps and lets out a whimper. It was beautiful. You chase it again, sucking and blowing cold air over them.

Still naked, you grasp the shaft and wrap your pussy over him, eyes rolling back at the pleasing friction.

You slide up and down, chasing the high.

He’s moaning in a way you’ve never heard, the intensity of not having vision.

Still above him, you plant a foot on the ground and slide his length inside of yourself.

Your hips move above him, slowly at first. You watch him, every pant and bead of sweat dripping. You get to see him in a way you couldn’t if he could see you back.

Soon, it feels too good, dick rocking right on your spot, fast and deep. He moves his hips faster below you, a signal to speed up.

You rock back and forth, squirming and squelching on his cock, feeling a little freer that he can’t see you, but only feel you so intensely.

He sinks and drags fingernails down your back with a hiss and a moan. He keeps his nails buried in your skin and holds your hips down.

“Fuck,” he pants as you pull the blindfold loose to see him come.

His hands grab yours and you use your laced hands to brace yourself, squeezing fingers tight when you both come.

It feels like an official reuniting, coming together again. Having more even ground this time, just experiencing this together.

Now, all is right again. Doubt, drowned just a bit longer.

11:51 PM

You’re in a marathon of a conversation, catching up on the last few months.

You laugh and talk and joke, just like old times. He grabs you by the waist.

He kisses you. Long and full of expectation.

“Just remind me why.” He exhales and pushes his forehead to yours.

“No, Joonie, we can’t do this_” You feel thorns grow on your skin and try to push away.

He doesn’t remember yet. This is a beaten path. As much as you missed the four walls you shared, by the end of it all, it was suffocating. Walls, closing in.

“Please,” he pleads. “Because i’m looking at you and we’re here talking and kissing and fucking, perfect as it always was and I can’t, for the life of me, figure out why we’re not together.”

You shake your head as tears burn at your eyelids.

“No, Namjoon, we cannot have this fight again…” you try to free yourself again. There’s so much more to it all than sex and conversation.

“Who’s fighting?”

“You know why we’re not together,” you argue. It was bad for a long time. We fought and fought_…”

“Maybe we didn’t try hard enough,” he interrupts.

You look at him, shake your head.

“I did.” Tears falling freely now. “We can’t see each other anymore. It’s not fair. Not to either one of us.

You laugh to yourself. “We both knew it was a bad idea. We knew we’d end up right back here.”

“And where is that?” he asks, soft tears spilling from his sharp eyes.

You don’t answer. Just offer a weak smile as you quickly dress.

“Happy Birthday.”

And just like that, it’s all over, 2 strokes to midnight.

12:13 AM

You turn on the lights to “the” empty apartment and intentionally don’t look around. Any progress you had made at making the place feel like just yours are back at square one.

Your body is heavy with regret, can’t believe you let yourself drown in him again.

You crawl under the covers and wait for it to be just not so hard, back turned away from the side of the bed that feels so devastatingly empty.

2:30 AM

You stir awake from a noise at the door. The knock sounds again, waking you completely.

You sleepily drag yourself to the door.

There he stands, eyes swollen, looking lost and vulnerable.

You stare at each other in the doorway, unable to tell if there are a million unsaid things being spoken or just emotions spilling sloppily around with no rhyme or reason.

The same electricity fires inside. Even though you can’t remember what you said when you left.

The only thing you can remember right now is how right it is that he’s here. And how wrong it was when he was gone, and how empty his side of the bed is.

You extend your hand out, inviting him in. He looks for a long time and finally accepts. You shut the door behind him, locking you both back into those four walls.

#bts smut #namjoon x y/n #namjoon smut #namjoon thirst #bts oneshot #bts drabble #namjoon one shot #namjoon drabble #bts imagines #namjoon x reader #bts fic rec #bts fic

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dimdiamond · 3 years

Text

Bagginshield fic list

Yeah, I decided to make one too because there are enough to cause me headaches and I'd like to have them somewhere organized. Please look at the tags before reading them!

Fix-it fics

Desperate magic by BeautifulFiction: Bilbo is left to tend Thorin as he hovers on the brink of death after the Battle of the Five Armies. Is love enough to save Erebor's king, or is this the last farewell?

Lay your troubles down by Avelera: An extended version of "the acorn scene." Bilbo sees his chance to snap Thorin out of his madness, and takes it.

The Riven Crown by BeautifulFiction: The aftermath of war is no laughing matter. Those who died must be honoured, those who are wounded must be healed, and those who remain need food and clothing, peace and sanctuary. With Thorin's life hanging in the balance, it is up to Bilbo and the rest of the Company to rule the rag-tag remnants of Erebor in his place. Then there is the matter of the gold... Can Bilbo save both king and kingdom, or is Erebor destined to fall deeper into ruin?

The Color of Possibility by lindoreda: When Bilbo puts himself between Thorin and Azog's blade, his mithril shirt protecting them both, it isn't long before some dwarves whisper that 'Oakenshield' might not be the best epithet for their king anymore. But for Bilbo, barred from Thorin's sight since the battle, this new epithet only adds to the sting. Spending his days caring for the recovering princes, Bilbo wonders how much more of this he can take, not suspecting his place at the center of a silent divide in the company.

Homesick by Margo_Kim: Five years after they've reclaimed Erebor, Thorin is sick of home, Bilbo is just sick, and neither is handling the situation ideally.

The Road Delivered Us Home by keelywolfe: In the years since Bilbo left Erebor, he has lost his respectability, gained a nephew, and gotten on with life at Bag End. He'd left aside adventure for the comforts and peace of his little Hobbit hole, and for the love of a child who needed him. Though perhaps, adventures can yet find him.

Notices in the Paper by YamBits: Bilbo returns to the Shire after his adventure, newly married, and newly homeless, after his two year absence allowed the Sackville-Bagginses to obtain Bag End. Bilbo and Thorin go to the Tooks for help, and find newly orphaned Frodo Baggins, also looking for a home.

A Royal Guardianship by ladyoakenshields: When Bilbo and Thorin return to the Shire for a sabbatical during Yuletide, they find a reason to retire the throne in Erebor sooner than expected.

The Shire's gems by awkwarng3: Thorin, Bilbo, and Frodo move to the Shire after raising Frodo in Erebor, and Frodo makes a friend.

Time travel fix-it fics

An expected journey by MarieJacquelyn: For years Bilbo has written about his adventures and told stories about his dealings with dwarves and dragons. To most it seemed like fanciful nonsense but to Bilbo it was all very real. A weight followed him home from his travels, one called regret. Now in his final moments Bilbo has a choice to make – go quietly into death’s embrace or go back again and face all the fear and pain for the chance to make things right? Of course, change is a fickle thing and not everything can be done again as Bilbo is about to find out. In the end, it may not only be salvation that he’s fighting for.

Bilbo Baggins, warrior of the Valar by Pallalalo: Bilbo raised his eyebrows. “And you’ve come to the Shire to look for this someone? My, Gandalf, I wonder if you know Hobbits at all. They would tell you that adventures are nasty, disturbing, uncomfortable things. That they would make you late for dinner.” Bilbo recalled his own words perfectly. It had been something he and Gandalf had looked back on with bittersweet laughter. This Gandalf however noticed his exact words. “Would they now? And what about you, mhm? What would you tell me about adventures?” #The Valar send Bilbo back in time, to the day where Gandalf asks him to join in an adventure. After living a lifetime of regret and suffering, he vows to change things for the better. For Thorin. For Frodo. But will he succeed?

I'll die to care for you by thehufflepuffhobbit: His gaze landed on Mahal's eyes once more. "You did your best, Thorin." It was tempting to look away; he wanted to deny that with everything he had. It certainly didn't feel as though falling into Gold Sickness and then dying was doing his best. Mahal smirked, as though he knew Thorin's desire to contradict him, and pinched his cheek before walking over to a table. "Aye, I didn't think you would believe me. I'm not lying, it certainly could have gone better. More according to my plan, but I know you really did try." "Your plan?" He didn't know if he should ask, really. Knowing that his Maker had set a course for him, he didn't want to think about the ways he had done everything wrong. There were too many examples of mistakes in his long life, too many opportunities that he had missed that had probably been planned for him from the beginning. Or:Mahal feels like Thorin fucked up his legacy and gives him a do over.

Darker times ahead by Reach4theSky: Bilbo is sailing to the Undying Lands but wary of letting go of the guilt that has been with him for many decade. His most sincerest wish is to go back and change what was done. Before reaching the lands of peace and healing, he dies aboard the ship and finds that his wish is being granted, not because he is the one to wish it but because this is the dwarves last chance to escape a fate of eternal waiting. He finds that not only is he going to be sent back to his younger body, but so is the entire Company of Thorin Oakenshield. Time is a fickle thing and not all the members have their memories returned to them at the same time. The journey on becomes interesting as the dwarves slowly remember and fight for themselves and their kin, yet new hurdles are thrown at them when they realize that more people remember than expected...

Of an arcane binding by Salvia_G: An inexplicable magic ties Bilbo Baggins, hobbit of the Shire, to Thorin, dwarven prince of Erebor.

Legends by DomesticGoddess: The fellowship has set out on its noble quest to destroy the ring and put an end to the threat that is Sauron! Just set out really, barely left the gates of Imladris, but things are going smoothly enough so far. That is until the two most unlikely party crashers fall upon their little fellowship. Uncle Bilbo and the Legendary Thorin Oakenshield?! Frodo just wants to know what's going on but the two of them won't stop hollering at each other long enough for anyone to get a word in edgewise. Suddenly, their little group is joined by Frodo's two biggest heroes and he discovers there was a lot more to Uncle Bilbo's stories than he realized.

Beside myself by bliboboggins: "What are you doing? Just who do you think you are?" Startled, Bilbo turned around slowly. And there, in a familiar patchwork dressing gown, brandishing a fire poker wildly about, was... Bilbo.

Erebor never fell au fics

The hearth doesn't make the home by Moonrose91: For things Bilbo could not change, he was condemned to a life of isolation, with the belief that none could love him. And then a Dwarf came to Hobbiton.

Clarity of vision by Mithen: In a Middle-Earth where Erebor never fell, a shadow remains in the heart of the Lonely Mountain. Bilbo Baggins finds himself drawn reluctantly into a quest that will lead him across the continent--from Bree to Lake Evendim to the icy North and beyond--with a party of five dwarves searching for an artifact that will cure the ailing King Thrór.

Ghivashel by mdseiran: The last thing Bilbo expects when he stays up late one night is company. The strange dwarf and his companion crash into his life and prove unexpected saviours. But the dwarf seems to think he will be joining them on their travels, and Bilbo has no such intentions.

The Song of My Heart by DomesticGoddess: After a failed attempt of trying to carve out a new home in the Blue Mountains for his people, Thorin finds himself beseeching the Hobbit Thain and his council for a place for his people in their bountiful land. An agreement is struck and plans in the works for integrating his people into their land. The only condition being an arranged marriage between himself and one of their family heads. A small price to pay to see his people safe and well fed. Unfortunately, he’s to marry the most disagreeable hobbit in all the Shire who also seems to hold a personal grudge against him. If only he could figure out why his new betrothed hates him so much.

Oak and Mistletoe by HildyJ: After a life dominated by a strange form of sickness, Thorin is sent to the Shire to seek a cure only Bilbo Baggins can offer.

Karkûn shukula - A Cinderella AU by harrypanther: When the Prince of the Shire visits the Kingdom of Erebor, there is great excitement. There are hopes he will choose to marry one of the Royal Family, cementing an alliance that would secure food supplies for the dwarven Kingdom and gain new allies. All eligible dwarves are expected to attend a series of Balls. Unknown to the guests, there is a third royal child, manoeuvred out by his ambitious stepmother, for whom this may be his last chance of restoring his fortunes and escaping his fate…

Alone this Yuletide by Emsiecat: 'Alone this Yuletide? Irritated with prying and nosey family members? I am an out of work blacksmith currently trying to make my way by any means necessary that does not involve my resorting to thievery (prisons are most uncomfortable, I've unfortunate first hand experience). However, if you would like me to be your strictly platonic companion for any social function, but have me pretend that we are in a serious courtship, so as to torment your family and ward off unwanted suitors then I am more than obliging...' After becoming increasingly irritated by overtures of romance from various Shire residents following the death of his mother four years ago, Bilbo is more than ready to resort to desperate measures. That is, up to and including pretending to be in a serious relationship with a certain surly blacksmith currently inhabiting the Bindbale Woods. It's a good idea after all; all they have to do is pretend to be in love over the Yuletide period and Bilbo's family and suitors will surely leave him alone after that. It's perfect! And nothing can possibly go wrong, right? Certainly nothing as preposterous as falling for one another for real...

Modern au fics

Nothing gold can stay by perkynurples: Bilbo Baggins led a rather peaceful life, thank you very much, until an old acquaintance decided to turn it upside down, and he found himself agreeing to take a job that’s… let’s say not exactly up his alley, and might eventually cost him a little more than his treasured cozy lifestyle. Who would have thought tutoring a slightly menacing monarch’s more than slightly overbearing nephew could prove to be such an adventure?

Love-In-Idleness by perkynurples: Taking Bilbo Baggins, a successful movie actor who is only just getting used to the perks and intricacies of becoming A Face People Want To See, and putting him together with Thorin Oakenshield, with his very traditional (read: slightly backwards) ideas about what constitutes Real Art and Real Talent, might very well be viewed as just some clothead’s idea of a joke. But there are jokes, and then there are carefully calculated risks the size of controversial reproductions of classic Shakespearean plays - for Bilbo, it is the chance of a lifetime to prove himself to all those who have ever deemed him too one-dimensional to even attempt stage, while Thorin has the opportunity to get out of the rut that’s been hindering his career for so long now, and shine in a role worthy of his talent once again. That is if the two learn how to share the same space for more than ten minutes without wanting to tear each other’s hair out. The course of true love never did run smooth, after all…

Candid by northerntrash: Thorin wasn't entirely sure why there was a six-foot candid photograph of him hanging in this exhibition, but he was going to wring the neck of whoever had put it there. In which Bilbo is a photographer, Thorin an accidental model, and Gandalf just likes to make trouble for everyone.

How the west was won and where it got us by stickman: Bilbo is a harried 1st year British literature Ph.D. (early 20th century fiction) who happens to have an interest in spatial narrative structures, a lack of time-management skills, and a tiny apartment with a lot of books and very little furniture. He’s stressed, always, and doesn't quite know where he belongs. He tells himself that really, this is, in fact, what he wants to be doing. But sometimes, as much as he loves books, he gets an urge to do something with his hands. Thorin is a disgruntled M.Arch. 1 in his last year who can’t be arsed to shave and frightens his students, and, frankly, his profs, but his work is top-notch so no one can really say much. They can, however, bully him into running a hands-on design workshop on Saturday mornings, which is complete crap, because he’s used to drinking his Friday nights into oblivion so showing up at Milstein at 7:45 the next morning and trying to teach in a room of wall-to-wall windows as the sun rises is not at the top of his list. Besides, no one ever shows up. Except one morning, someone does. [graduate school AU]

Butterfly effect by eyra: Yoga wasn’t for him. Yoga was for interesting people. Luminous people; people who took gap years and spoke a foreign language. People who ate lentils and burned incense and had fantastic, colourful friends with fantastic, colourful lives full of travel and silent retreats and those baggy trousers with elephants on them. Yoga was decidedly not for people like Bilbo, who wore cardigans and ate beans on toast and whose linguistic capabilities stretched only as far as a rusty Spanish A-Level. Just your regular story of boy meets yoga instructor.

Remover of the obstacles by MistakenMagic: "Dis often chided her older brother for being a misanthropist. She did it so often it had become a term of endearment. It was true that Thorin struggled with people; he struggled to form and maintain relationships. Dr. Grey had diagnosed him with this and Thorin hadn’t the heart to tell him this wasn’t a symptom of his PTSD, it was a symptom of his personality. He exercised a sense of apathy with almost everyone he met… But Bilbo was different. Thorin actually found himself wanting to know more about him."

Color outside the lines by andquitefrankly: Kindergarten has just gotten significantly better. Just ask Thorin, who's got the biggest crush on the new kid in class, Bilbo Baggins. With the help of his friends, Thorin knows that he can take back the swings from the 1st graders, show up the K-1 class in the school pageant, and win the heart of one curly haired boy. Yup. Kindergarten is going to be a year to remember.

Bran' New Suit by pibroch (littleblackdog): Andrew's description had been sufficient to recognize him— a riot of honey brown curls, short in stature, a well-favoured face with expressive features— but it hadn't quite been enough to prepare Tom for the sharp, almost painful tug in his gut at the sight of the man. They had never met before, to the best of Tom's recollection, but there was something eerily and inexplicably familiar about him all the same.

Different species au fics

I've grown a hedge around my heart by pibroch (littleblackdog): "Thorin was the essence of so many Buckland oddities, distilled into one misfortunate young hobbit, much to his infinite embarrassment. Built like a stork, his father had said once, in an example of Thrain Brandybuck’s usual tactless humour. All beak and legs." Thorin Brandybuck, just recently come of age, still lives in his family’s smial in Buckland, with his parents and two younger siblings. Thorin is an odd duck amongst his relations and neighbours-- unsociable, grumpy, shy, and awkward. And beyond that, he looks rather strange even for a Bucklander, strongly favouring the thick, dark haired build of his Stoorish blood. It defies all sense and reason why Bilbo Baggins, an exemplar of all the respectable traits Thorin lacked, would ever desire a friendship with him. Bilbo, as Thorin discovers, is not always as sensible as he appears.

In which the dwarves are satyrs for reasons by HiddenKitty What the title says basically.

Bride of the demon king by DomesticGoddess: Thorin is King of the demons, a beast-like race feared by humans. Ever since the demons and humans formed a truce years ago, the humans have sent a young human every year as a tribute to the King of demons. Thorin is tired of having to deal with the tribute that has long since lost its meaning. The only tribute he'd be interested in is the boy he met fifteen years ago on the border of the demon and human realms. Despite his fantasies, Thorin knows the chances of ever seeing the boy again are slim to none, until they're not.

Lost He Wandered Under Leaves by serenbach: Thorin son of Thrain is a struggling blacksmith descended from a fallen line of kings. In an attempt to provide for his family over the winter, he reluctantly accepts an impossible sounding task - to hunt down an enchanted deer that lives in the Old Forest that borders the Shire, and make armour and weapons from its hide and antlers. He never expected to succeed. And he certainly never expected what he found to change his life so completely.

A Dryad's Tale by Bilbo Baggins by Moongazer12: Bilbo is a dryad (think little sibling to ents). Long ago a curse was placed upon him from destroying one of the rings of power. Whenever he touches someone with his bare skin he will make them insane. But despite this, he and Gandalf have gone on many adventures to help protect Middle Earth (What was the point to destroying the ring if something else destroyed it instead?) Gandalf has called on him once again to help on a quest, Bilbo just hopes that they read his amendments to the contract.

The quest but with a twist au fics

King, come at the red morning by Tawabids: Bilbo has heard fairytales of the lost prince of the dwarves, Thorin son of Thrain, who disappeared the day Smaug attacked the Lonely Mountain. But he does not believe in fairytales until he comes across the dwarf sleeping in the depths of Erebor, and kisses him back to life. Now Thorin - a hundred and fifty years out of his time - has to confront a world in which his city is empty, his people scattered, his baby brother Frerin is king, two nephews he's never met are missing in action, and a war is brewing right on his doorstep. And as if that wasn't complicated enough he's trapped in the body of an old man and falling stupidly in love with a gossipy, grudging little hobbit.

When the sun rises by Harry1981: Bilbo Baggins of Bag End was not a very respectable Hobbit. No respectable Hobbit had a sword and crossbow hanging in their home, nor did they have Dwarves as family. But Bilbo Baggins did, and all of Shire knew of his husband, blacksmith Thorin Oakenshield. When Bilbo comes home to find his Husband earlier than expected, he learns of a quest to reclaim Erebor. It is a death mission. Bilbo knows that Dwarves are stubborn creatures, and none more than Thorin himself. But nobody said that Bilbo himself was any less stubborn. So he will follow his dearest husband across all of Middle Earth, through plains and mountains and forests, all while hiding the true nature of their relationship (Dwarven politics never helped anyone), brushing off some old wounds (and getting new ones) and finding out new things about the dwarf Bilbo calls husband (and his extended family). Nobody ever said love was easy, after all.

Small, but fierce by DomesticGoddess: As a result of a magical mishap during the trip to the lonely mountain, Bilbo is reverted to a wee little hobbitling. Only in body, of course. His adult mind is still very aware of the indignity of it all (seriously! He doesn't need to be coddled, carried, and fed like a child). It turns out, dwarves love children and there is nothing cuter than Hobbit children. Bilbo soon realizes that he can get away with just about anything in his babyish form and starts taking full advantage of it. Even the grumpy brooding king can't deny the angelic little creature anything he desires (and Bilbo's going to milk that for all it's worth).

Your song like a home in my heart by Nennvial: In Middle Earth, all creatures have a soulmate. Not all have some, but if they do, it is a bond nothing can break, not even death. The more famous story of such a bound was the story of Bren and Luthien, who even defied detath. The way someone can find out that the other is one’s soulmate is through song: when they meet and hear the voice of the other, a song sings in their heart, which feels like home and makes them complete. They may refuse it if they wish to do so, but they hence risk a life of bitter looniness. Thorin Oakenshield and Bilbo Baggins are soulmates, but they must admit it to themselves throughout their journey to Erebor.

To Dungeons Deep (And Caverns Old) by KingUndertheMountain: Bilbo Baggins was not your average hobbit. Of course, he had the wonderfully groomed and well-taken-care-of hairy feet like every other one of his race, yes, but he was not like other hobbits. He was cursed. Or, as the witch who gave him the enchantment put it, was “gifted”. She had given him the “gift” of obedience – whenever there was a direct command given to him, for example “cook a large meal” or “take a walk”, he could not disobey. Not without a lot of pain and eventual submission.

Chocolate candy one-shots

The world is sleeping (my world is you) by katheneverwrites (mandolinearts): I asked Persephone, “How could you grow to love him? He took you from flowers to a kingdom where not a single living thing can grow.” Persephone smiled, “My darling, every flower on your earth withers. What Hades gave me was a crown made for the immortal flowers in my bones.” - Nikita Gill ---“What do you mean, my friend?” There is a line of thought that surfaces in Gandalf’s mind, but he drowns it before it can take root. Surely not. But Bilbo’s chuckle sets him on edge. The small, gentle god of harvest, nature, and flowers sits up straighter, and in his crown of flowers there is a wire of strong metal, his cloak is suddenly not colorful anymore but the deepest black and he is terrifying, horrific, powerful - “I married Thorin Oakenshield, King Under the World.”

Of seasons by northerntrash: As far as he could tell, he had been kidnapped, which in itself made this week more than a little unusual. In which Bilbo steals away the Lord of Death, and Thorin can't quite bring himself to stay angry about it.

Warm up by paranoid_fridge: On one of their walks, Bilbo tumbles into a stream. They make it back to Bag End and Bilbo demands Thorin warm him up.

Royal Blue And Crimson Red by Mistofstars: Here's what happened before and after Bilbo accidentally eavesdrops on Gandalf and Elrond at night in Rivendell, as they discuss Thorin's quest and his family's history. Oh, and Thorin and Bilbo share a room, of course ;)

I was young when I left home by Margo_Kim: There was a pity clapper somewhere in the third row. Thorin finished his fourth song to polite applause from the people who noticed that the song was finished, but within the smattering of claps was someone beating his hands together like he was trying to rhythmically kill a fly. There was usually one of those, the kind who notices that no one else is paying attention and so is determined to compensate for that regardless of how they feel about the actual music. Thorin ignored him. It was easy to do so—he'd always hated looking at the audience when the singing was done.

A matter of buttons by StupidFatPenguin: “Your shirt,” says Thorin, quite out of the blue, and Bilbo looks down his front to see if there is a spot of tea or jam or anything equally embarrassing spilled on it. He is relieved to find nothing of the sort and looks up at the dwarf with an eyebrow raised in question. Thorin sits mute, his still-smoking pipe forgotten in his hand. He looks on for long moments still, seems almost lost to a thought before he shifts and lifts his gaze to meet Bilbo’s inquiring face. “It is familiar to me. Did you not wear this on the eve we met?” In which Bilbo and Thorin re-enact the evening they met.

The ladder by Milliethekitty27: Inspired from a post made by wheeloffortune-design on tumblr. Tired of his lonely kitchen in Yavanna's Garden, Bilbo Baggins wonders if the dwarven love of being underground is true in death. If so, maybe his dwarves are living (ha ha) under the very land Bilbo is weeding. With that thought, Bilbo goes and asks Hamfast for a shovel.

Love hobbit by HybridOwl: Bilbo Baggins considers himself a bit of a cock up, all things considered. He never made it out of his small highway adjacent town, can't seem to stop chain-smoking, and overall has more to talk about with the plants in his shop than 90% of all the rest of Middle Earth. So when he's reading the morning paper and a love note that can't be for anyone but him pops up, he's pretty sure - almost positive, really - that he's being made fun of. "TO the chain-smoking little stud who collects two metros from Gamgee's Goods every morning, will you be my love hobbit? - Bearded Biker." (heavily inspired by tumblr posts)

Fusion with other fandoms au fics

The Second Time by authoressjean; Sebastian Moran can't pull the trigger on John Watson to save his own hide, and what the hell is it with the doctor, anyway? Then Gandalf shows up, meddlesome wizard, and reminds him none too gently of his past life: as Thorin Oakenshield, leader of a company that had once included a small hobbit named Bilbo Baggins. One that looked decidedly like John Watson. And this would be the perfect chance to make things right with Bilbo the way he really hadn't been able to before he died, and that's when Gandalf tells him John doesn't remember being Bilbo, and to leave him alone. Right. Like that's going to happen.

And sow a star divided in us by MistakenMagic: Short summary: Gays in space! Longer summary: After his first successful solo mission, Jedi Knight Bilbo Baggins, trained by High Council member and full-time nuisance, Master Gandalf, returns to the Jedi Temple on Coruscant. During an excursion to the sparring arena, he meets a group of Dwarven Jedi from Ered Luin, a mountainous planet located in the Outer Rim. Young padawans, Fili and Kili, are full of curiosity at this strange, barefoot Jedi, but Master Thorin, who appears to have the personality of a rancor and mental shields like blast doors, is less than impressed.

Comics you should definitely check

Every work by rutobuka, seriously they're criminally cute and they're not still favored by everyone without reason.

Retelling the Hobbit by Mellow_Comics: Bilbo has never been good at telling the "true" story of what happened on his journey to the Lonely Mountain. Now he's trying to turn the tale of his quest into a lighthearted children's book-- a bedtime story for his young nephew Frodo. But what really happened on his journey? And how did it actually affect him? This is a comic adaptation/retelling of the Hobbit! It's framed as a bedtime story that Bilbo is telling a younger Frodo.

For now these are some of my personal favourites! However, I'm sure my list will grow since my reading list has some gems still waiting for me to read, so be certain that there will be a part 2 of this list!

#bagginshield #fic list #bagginshield fic #they're a LOT #they're all great #thank you fic writers #thank you artists

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immersed-in-mischief · 3 years

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Surprise- A Prince Charming One Shot (Loki x Female Reader)

I still can’t thank everyone enough for all the love and support I have received for the Prince Charming series! This week I plan to post a fluffy one shot each day. They are in no particular order so it does jump around the timeline some. This one is going up a little late today, but the rest will go live at noon central each day. To balance out all the angst from the actual story, these will be sickly sweet. Enjoy! :)

Tags: @ruiningthe1975 @valiantvoidpoetry @nms224 @youlightmeupfinn @salempoe @lokiprompts @oasiswithmyg @saltandapepper @chwlogy @clockblobber @locht3ssmonster @mad4marvelloki

“LOKI!”

He emerged from the bathroom after his shower to find you frantically searching through his room. Numerous drawers and cabinets now open with their contents spilling out everyone.

“Bug! What in the nine realms are you doing?”

Your face appears from behind the cabinet door, and you don’t look pleased.

“Where the hell are my daggers?! Not YOUR daggers, but mine! Practically living in two separate rooms makes it impossible to find anything anymore!”

With the flick of his wrist, all the misplaced items are now back in their location and his room is now back together.

“The nightstand in your bedroom, My Love. Bottom drawer on your side of the bed. Now is there anything else I can help you with, or may I get dressed now?”

Just as you begin to head out the door to your room, you stop and look back at him. For the first time, you realize that your boyfriend is standing in the middle of the room with only a towel wrapped around his waist. The water dripping from his hair and down his chiseled back and chest makes you bite your lip. Loki smiles at the way your eyes are traveling across his body and his hands rest on the top of the towel. His eyes meet yours and he raises his eyebrows silently asking if he should continue. Somehow, you snap out of the trance he has you under when you remember why you needed the daggers in the first place.

“Ugh! No time. Stupid mission.”

You make your way over to him and pull his face down towards you as you plant a deep kiss against his lips to satisfy yourself for now.

“I’ll be back late tonight, Mischief. Try not to get into any trouble without me please.”

His hand reaches out and playfully lands a smack on your behind as you try to rush out the door.

“I’ll try to behave. Now go before Rogers comes looking for you. I love you.”

You stop at the door and give him a wink.

“I love you too, baby.”

As you got back to the tower from the mission at nearly midnight, you stopped by your room to grab a quick shower before going to Loki’s room for the night. You missed him but sleep was the only thing on your mind now. When you opened the door, you had to look back into the hall to make sure you had entered the correct room.

The room was completely empty except for a bare mattress and furniture. You took a deep breath to fill your lungs.

“MISCHIEF! GET OUT HERE!”

On cue, he slid around the corner as he practically ran towards you. The child-like excitement on his face was not amusing in this moment.

“Darling! You’re home!”

When he leaned in to kiss you, you dodge his advances and pointed into the empty room you were standing in front of.

“Is this your doing? I’m way too tired for your tricks tonight, Lohk. Just give me my stuff back so I can shower and go to bed!”

Your confusion only grew when he took your hand into his and dragged you down the hall with him and around the corner to his room. He threw open the door and ran to stand in the middle of the room before turning to face you with his arms stretched out in a grand fashion.

“Surpriiiiiise!”

It took you a moment to see the changes around the room but one-by-one, they came into focus. Where most of his items had stood this morning, yours now replaced them. Your picture frames were hung up on the wall. The bookcase in the corner was now filled with your books as well. He ran over to the closet and opened the door before flicking on the light switch. One side of the closet now contained all your clothes.

“All of your folded items are on this side of the dresser, but if you prefer a different spot, we can move them. I tried to put all your bathroom products exactly where you kept them in your room. This nightstand on the side you sleep on is cleaned out and I left a space at the bottom for your daggers once you got home.”

Loki stopped running around the room when he saw the confused look on your face.

“Mischief, is this your way of asking me to move in with you?”

He now seemed unsure of himself as he looked around the room. His hand nervously rubbed the back of his neck as he floundered to come up with something to say.

“After what you said this morning, Ladybug, about not being able to find anything because of it all being in two different chambers, I thought this might make things easier for you. I apologize if I overstepped…”

The slight smile on your face caused his shoulders to relax slightly. He watched you walk towards him and wrap your arms around his neck.

“It’s typically something that is asked and discussed beforehand, but I want to hear you say it, Loki. Do you want me to move in with you?”

The expression on his face was a mix of nerves and embarrassment and he wouldn’t quite meet your eye.

“The thought had crossed my mind, yes. Are you okay with it, Bug?”

“What if I had wanted you to move into my room instead, Lohk?”

He pulled away with his own look of surprise.

“Oh… I’m sorry, Darling. We can move it all down the hall to your room if that is what you would prefer. It might have to wait until morning since it’s already so late…”

You giggled before putting your finger over his lips.

“Baby, I’m just teasing you... Yes, Loki, I would be happy to move in with you. Come here.”

He allowed you to pull him back down to you for a kiss as he let out a frustrated growl behind his smile. His arms wrapped tight around your waist and pulled you up against him until your feet barely grazed the floor. When he finally set you back down and broke the kiss, you rested your forehead against his and savored the moment.

“Alright Mischief, give me the full tour… start with the pajamas first though.”

His giddiness returned as he dragged you around the room by the hand and pointed out all the little details to you. The overly organized god had found a set place for all your things. Once he was done and you had a change of clothes in hand, you slipped into the bathroom to take a quick shower. Upon returning, Loki was laid back in bed reading a book as he waited on you.

When he saw you in the doorway watching him, he smiled and flipped the blankets back on your side and you ran and jumped into bed with a squeal causing him to laugh. Once you were curled up against his side, you stared up at him.

“So, this was the trouble you got into today?”

He looked almost arrogant.

“Eh, a few flicks of the wrist. It wasn’t too strenuous, My Love.”

You pulled him down to lie beside you as you reached up and played with his curls.

“Thank you for doing this, Mischief. It means a lot to me that you want to share your space with me. “

“You are very welcome, Love. You’re my world. I’d share anything I have with you, you know that right?”

You gave him a nod as his fingers stroked your cheek.

“How did you fit everything from both of our rooms in here without it looking cluttered at all? My things filled up most of my room by itself.”

“Most of my things went into storage. I wanted to make sure My Princess had plenty of room to make this feel like your home too.”

Your eyes filled with tears as you stared at him. With nothing to say but a smile, you pulled him into you and kissed him deeply. With another flick, he turned off the lights causing you to giggle as he trailed kisses down your neck.

“I love you, Chaos…”

“I love you too, Dove.”

#loki smut #loki fluff #loki angst #loki laufeyson #loki fanfic #loki fandom #tom hiddleston smut #tom hiddleston fluff #tom hiddleston angst #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston fanfiction #marvel #prince charming #friends to lovers

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mouthfulloftoothpasterry · 3 years

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Hooked

Summary: Harry and Y/n meet again. This time spending more time together and getting to know each other.

warnings/ disclaimers: Swearing, mentions of death, mentions of childbirth.

Harry was out searching for a book. He had left Loralie with his mother for the day since he had some errands to run and it would be a busy day. He had finished all of his books and he was on the search for another, maybe even some extra ones for his classroom. He had stopped by his favorite coffee shop and ordered his favorite black coffee to start his day of errands, then he went to the market to get everything for dinner tonight- he thought he might as well get it out of the way since he hates grocery shopping.

Now he’s on the way to a bookstore, he didn’t want to order it on Amazon or just go to a big chain store so he did a quick google search and found a small book store a block down the road from the coffee shop he had gone to. He wanted to find the book burning in water, drowning in flame- his sister had recommended it to him and now he was itching to read it.

He made his way to the bookstore, it looked like a homey place just from the outside of the store. It was a rust colored brick with two sconces on either side of the top of the book shop, a rather tall building- possibly a flat at the top. Harry looks at the cacti peeking through the windows, little flower stickers to decorate.

Harry walks into the book shop, opening the door making the golden bell at the top of the door frame sound off. As soon as Harry steps in he notes the warm scent, it smells like the owner had been baking cookies. “Hello!” He hears a cheerful voice sing while he steps toward the poetry aisle in search of the book. “Is there anything I could help you with today?” He hears the voice again making him turn his head. To his surprise it’s Y/n, he’s been thinking about her. “Oh, hi.” He says bashfully, smiling and stepping over to the cashier counter she was behind.

Y/n smiles, continuing to add price tags on the back of her new shipment of books. She had started her little business officially a bit after she had gotten pregnant with Milo. Milo’s dad had left her after she broke the news to him, they were in their early twenty’s (Y/n being twenty one and him being twenty two) so it was understandable that he didn’t want children yet but the way he dealt with the situation was just dramatic and too much on Y/n. So she put everything into her little book shop, she took out a loan and bought this place, starting planning and putting her all into it, it wasn’t easy but it was worth it.

“Hi Harry.” She says, adding a book to the stack. Harry blushes at her tone again, she’s hard to read. “Um… do you happen to have burning in water, drowning in flame?” He asks, whirling around her display of different styles and colors of bookmarks. He is a twenty six year old man, why is acting like one of his students who thinks he’s handsome? Y/n laughs, nodding while she pulls her mug up to her lips- Harry thinks it’s hot chocolate (and he’s right). “It’s in poetry, first aisle, third shelf, second row.” She says, impressing Harry in how she has memorized every single spot of her book store.

Harry gives her a tight nod, walking over to the poetry section and looking for the book. “Is this your place?” Harry asks, making conversation while the rest of the store is dead silent.

“Yeah, me and Milo live in the flat upstairs.” Y/n admits. Harry’s ears perk up, she didn’t say anything about a partner. He walks back to the counter placing his book down, not handing it over to her yet. “When did you open this place?” He questions, looking around the shop. He sees some crystals, some candles- that both look up for sale and also her personal ones. It’s cute.

“After I got pregnant with Milo. Right after Xavier left me.” She says, leaving Harry wondering. “Xavier is…?” Y/n sighs, rolling her eyes a bit. It’s only their second time meeting and she’s already giving him her sob story. “He’s what would be Milo's father.” She says, picking at her bare nails. She doesn’t consider Xavier Milo's father, he’s never been there for him so he’s not a father. Harry’s lips form a tight line, “um, Loralies mum died… so… we’ve all got baggage.” He laughs, trying to cut the tension.

Loralies mum had died, she died during childbirth. She already had a particularly painful and rough pregnancy with Lora and that was just extremely unexpected, Harry just thanks his stars everyday that his little one is safe with him. “That’s awful, Harry. I‘m sorry.” Harry smiles at her, “it’s okay. I’ve got my Lora so I’m okay.” Y/n nods, smiling and grabbing the book from between his fingers. “She’s a sweet girl.” She compliments.

Harry nods, feeling a little cocky over how well he has raised his daughter. “Is this all for you?” She asks, pulling out a small brown bag with the logo and name on it- they are cute. “Yes please.” Harry politely says, making her laugh under her breath. “If this is your first time here? You get a free bookmark with every book you purchase if it is.” She says, nodding over to the bookmarks. Harry nods, looking through the bookmarks and picking a random Fleetwood Mac one- cute, he thinks. Y/n adds the bookmark to the bag, setting it infront of him. “13.22” she says, Harry fishing his wallet out.

“Are you doing a lot today?” He asks, motioning down to all the books stacked around her while he hands her a ten and four singles. She shrugs, “the usual.” Y/n says, handing him back his change. Harry thinks for a second, pausing his response making Y/n a little nervous. “I could help?” Harry offers, setting his coffee on the table. Y/n gives him a questionable look, sharpening one of her eyes at him. “You want to put tags on books and reorganize with me?” She asks, making Harry laugh. He nods, putting a bookmark back in its place “see, I’m already helping.” He says cheekily.

Y/n smiles, shaking her head. “I guess you can help.” She says.

Soon enough they are sat on the brown carpet, mountains of books around them. Y/n has a blanket wrapped around her and Harry has his legs stretched out. Y/n is tagging books while Harry is setting by the book shelf closest to them organizing. “I swear they put something in the water fountain at that school, the kids are always running and screaming around my classroom while I’m trying to talk about how Van Gogh cut off his own ear.” Harry says, making Y/n loudly giggle, thinking about how Milo probably gives him a horrible time on Wednesdays.

“You like working where Loralie is?” She asks, Harry of course nodding. Loralie is his baby, he loves knowing she’s just up the stairs- especially if she were to get sick or hurt he would be right there to take care of her. “Yeah, I wish I could always be with Milo but one of us has to make the money.” She jokes which makes Harry laugh.

“She always comes waddling into my classroom screaming for me- which disrupts the class but I don’t care.” He shrugs, his mind going back to Loralie. “Oh shit, I’ve got to pick her u-“

“Hi! How are you, baby!” Y/n cheers, Milo running toward her then crashing into her in a hug. Y/n’s friend Mikaela had babysat Milo for the day while Y/n tried to get as much work done as she could. Usually on the weekends (like today) Milo will be in the store with her… which tends to distract her. “Um, I’ve got to go but we should do this again? Maybe… over dinner?” Harry asks, Y/n’s face lighting up.

“Are you asking me on a date?” She teases, Harry blushing and nodding. Y/n laughs, slipping her phone from her pocket, “take my number and we can schedule that date you’re begging me for.” She teases.

Harry gets her number, thanking her for the book and letting him stay before he slips out. Now he’s got to get back to Loralie. But he’s got a date!

Later that night when Harry and Loralie are practicing her memorizing her ABCs his phone beeps. He ignores his at first, just expecting it to be a stupid text from his friend Mitch, but once he looks down he sees Y/n’s contact name. “Keep going, bug.” Harry says, grabbing his phone from the carpet while they set on the floor of the living room, unlocking his phone.

Hii, im free next Friday :) let me know if that works with your schedule!

Harry laughs at her cute little smiley faces, trying to think up a response that doesn’t make him sound a thousand years older than her. The tip of his tongue sticks out while he types back his response, his eyebrows knitted in concentration.

Hello! Friday works, how about 5:30? I can pick you up.

He lays his phone back down and helps Loralie with her letters, pulling her onto his lap. “D is for Daddy!” She cheers, making Harry smile, chuckling and kissing her round cheeks while she squeals. Harry hears his phone ding, grabbing it and reading the response, thanking god she answered. He thought his heart would explode out of his chest. It was beating so hard.

That sounds good ☺️ see you then!

Harry got her to say yes, but now he has to deal with the anxiety of actually going on the date. What should he wear, where should they go? Should he be opening the door and pulling out her chair or is that not in-in dating anymore? He hasn’t dated since Loralies mum and his baby is two years old now, it’s been quite a long time since he dipped his toe into trying to charm a woman. He just hopes he’s still got it.

****************************

The day is here. Loralie is with her grandma so Harry can get ready for the date. He’s been panicking and running all around his little house. He showered and smothered himself in lotion and his best cologne- he wanted to smell nice for her. He was adding leave in conditioner to his hair (which he hardly remembers to do) to make it more silky and the curls look a bit prettier than they usually do- he doesn’t know much about hair, he just does what his sister tells him what his hairdresser tells him he should do.

He planned out an outfit, a pair of tan dress pants with a white tank top and a cardigan over it. He had thought over the outfit a bit too much, was it too casual for the date? Was the cardigan too much? He decided against his thoughts and layers some pearls on, sliding his rings on that were in a jewelry dish, placed in there before his shower. He takes a look in the mirror, readjust his cardigan before he gives himself a little nod. He feels good about this.

He makes his way over to Y/n flat, walking up the metal steps to her flat and knocking on the door. When she opens the door he notices just how amazing her home smells, just like her book shop. He needs to remember to ask her where she gets her candles. “Hi,” Harry smiles, looking his date up and down. She was dressed nicely. It was a sage green dress with spaghetti straps, it stopped a couple inches above her knee. Harry thought it was cute.

She paired it with gold jewelry and a black cross body bag. Dirty white vans to go along with it that added a child-like feel to the outfit. Harry thought that was cute too.

“Hi,” she smiles, glancing behind her. “You look nice.” Harry says, suddenly feeling hot. Y/n laughs under her breath, thanking him. “You look nice as well.” Harry smiles bashfully, looking down at his feet. “Thank you”

Y/n says her goodbyes to Milo, hugging and kissing him before thanking her friend again for watching him. It’s the same one from last week, Mikaela. They get into Harry’s car, a bit of awkward silent before Y/n breaks it, Harry stopping the tapping of his fingers along to the low radio once her voice interrupts it. “So, where are we going?” She asks, smoothing her dress out against her thighs.

Harry laughs, he’s not prepared for dates and for some reason he hadn’t thought about the most important part. “I’ll eat anywhere to be honest.” Y/n admits, looking through her window at all the different places.

Harry was looking around in a panic and he finally pulled something out of his ass that sounded good, especially on his teacher salary. “Olive Garden?” Harry says, trying to say it confidently but it definitely comes out as more of a question. Y/n’s eyes light up, she’s in the mood for bottomless salad and breadsticks. “That sounds heavenly.” And Harry is happy to hear that.

They walk into the busy restaurant, instantly getting escorted to a table. Harry is happy they didn’t have to wait- that would have just been embarrassing since he threw this together last minute. They sat in the booth, sliding in and getting comfortable. “So, how’s the bookstore?” Harry asks, pulling apart his breadstick. Y/n knocks her shoe with his under the table, she thinks it’s cute how bashfully he can get when just asking a simple question. “It’s good. How are your little art students?” Harry playfully rolls his eyes at her choice of words.

“It’s good. They are doing self portraits.” Y/n laughs, her eyes widening.

“How’s that going?” Harry laughs, shaking his head. “They look like shittier versions of Picasso’s paintings.” Y/n dramatically gasps through her laughs, “aren’t you supposed to worship the ground that man walks on? Why would you say that?” Harry rolls his eyes once again, chuckling at her. “I��m just behind honest!”

Their date goes on the same, they order their food, giggling while they eat and even getting into a little food fight with the leftover breadsticks. (They weren't being humble, they asked for another basket) They finished their food, “That was fun.” Y/n admits smiling. Harry nods, taking the check and opening his wallet. “Here,” y/n holds out her card, Harry shaking his head. “I’ll pay.” Harry shrugs her off, handing his card tucked in the black check book the waiter had brought over back to him before she can further protest.

Y/n scoffs, throwing another breadstick at him that he tried to catch but it’s too greasy. “Hey! I thought we had a truce?!” Harry questions her. She shakes her head, apparently swearing off the truce. Harry shrugs, thanking the waiter when he brings his card back along with their mints. “You better sleep with one eye open then.” Harry says, standing up and waiting for her. She laughs, standing up and pulling her bag over her shoulder. “I have a three year old, I basically sleep with them both open. You’re nothin’.” She says, Harry nodding his head in agreement. He knows just how she feels.

They drive back to her flat, Harry of course walking her to her door. “I had so much fun tonight.” Harry says, looking down before he looks up at Y/n. She smiles, blushing. She hasn’t dated since Xavier and she admired that to Harry tonight, they both admitted that they haven’t dated since their children’s parents so they felt a lot comfortable knowing they were both rusty.

“Me too, you’re a really sweet guy, Harry.” She says. She needs to remember to thank her forgetful little Milo for leaving his folder in Harry’s classroom. “Thanks for agreeing to go out with me. I was pretty nervous.” Harry admits a bit sheepishly. Harry is a bit giddy on the inside about them hitting it off so well, they were having the best conversation and at times they were getting extremely loud, probably annoying the people around them, but they didn’t care, they had fun. “Yeah, I was nervous as hell but I haven’t had this much fun in a while. Thanks for tonight.” Y/n smiles, leaning in for a kiss.

Harry’s eyes widen, but he still kisses her back. He hasn’t kissed anyone in so long he thought he had forgot how to for a second. His hands come up to cup her jaw, moving his lips with hers. “I’ll see you soon. Have a good night.” Y/n smiles, opening her door with red cheeks. Harry nods, a little flabbergasted. “Have a good night.” He says, trudging down her steps.

And now he’s hooked on her.

Tag list: @romionefp @iaalien @hopeyoustaythenight @evanjh

If you liked this please reblog and please tell me what you thought of it ☺️ thank you for reading!! I hope you all like the series so far I’m writing part three right now so it should come out soon ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

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