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ghoulfuckersincorporated · 1 day

Note

You've been quietly seeing Cooper for months now. Avoiding the public eye while he's still in the midst of settling a long, drawn-out divorce. He's been exploring new things with you. You're a little on the demure side but willing to try most things when it comes to what Cooper Howard wants. Being in similar networks, one night, you both go to the same party separately. You get a bit drunk and wonder off from everyone else, with Coop following. Sexual exploitation, cnc, degradation? Soooft Cooper after. Idk just a thought. 👀

Duplicity (Part I)

Pairing: Prewar!Cooper Howard x Female Reader

Word Count: 11,275

Warnings: smut (18+), DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, Possessive!Prewar!Cooper, jealousy, dubious consent, infidelity (physical and emotional), decomposing marriages, acrimonious divorce proceedings, alcohol use, choking, biting, degradation, mild exhibitionism, unprotected sex, breeding kink, creampie, soft ending.

Notes: I am such a sucker for darker portrayals of Prewar!Cooper so this took root right inside my brain, like, instantly. I think there's a lot more of The Ghoul already inside that man than many people talk about.

Thanks for the submission! I fell in love with this prompt and I will absolutely be continuing it; honestly, I think this version of Coop has so much potential and this framing is great fodder for freaky Prewar! antics. There's so much this man wants to try with (on) you.

This is more 'dubcon' than 'CNC', but there's always future installments. If y'all have ideas you'd like to throw on the pile for it, the askbox is always open! The length of this absolutely got away from me and I sincerely apologize for that. I am so bad at estimating how long my fics are gonna end up (I had originally guessed this would be around 8,500). Thanks for your patience and please enjoy!

"Oh, come on, you're gonna tell me you're not at all excited about this?"

Your coworkers words were more grating than usual as the two of you rode up towards your office in the elevator, alone save for the anticipation filling the small space thanks to the early hour.

"You really need to get a grip. Don't you also work at a movie studio? Haven't you met actors before?" you teased, trying to remain good-natured despite your annoyance, and despite your nerves. It was rather rare for you to be nervous about meeting with studio talent these days, but hey; even you were prone to a little fangirl behavior from time to time. You were, in fact, excited for a work meeting for once.

You'd heard Cooper Howard was actually nice compared to a lot of the actors you had to work with.

The early morning time slot you could certainly live without, as well as the hard edge of nerves that you couldn't shake, embarrassingly. For five years, you'd been employed by one of the country's largest and most prolific movie studios practicing contract law. Well, in name you practiced contract law. In reality, the department you worked for was so large that you were rarely involved in the actual negotiation process, the exciting part with the intriguing back-and-forth. Instead, you were left to finish things up, dot i's and cross t's. It wasn't exactly thrilling work, nor was it what you envisioned yourself doing when you were in law school, but the pay wasn't awful and everyone started somewhere.

Essentially, your entire job was to run around chasing (or sit around waiting for) signatures from people who usually thought they were better than you and treated you with contempt, so it was often difficult to feel any sort of genuine excitement. Granted, you were a little more of a fan of Cooper Howard than you were a fan of pretty much anyone else you'd met with, but you tried your hardest to remain professional and not embarrass yourself at all times. You'd grown up watching some of his earliest movies with your grandfather before he'd passed, and had even developed a little adolescent crush on him and his famous sheriff persona, but you also saw so much genuinely embarrassing name-dropping and star-fuckery in this job that you were determined to not come across that way.

Besides, there was enough of that behavior in your household as it was, what with your husband in training as a junior executive thanks to his penchant for that type of behavior.

When you'd married him, bright-eyed and fresh out of undergrad, you hadn't necessarily been head-over-heels or anything, but wasn't that normal? Everyone around you told you that he was a good man, that he was the star to hitch your wagon to, and, in your youth and carelessness, you'd believed them unquestioningly, despite the fact that he never really had actively made you happy. The courting part of your relationship had been more like contract negotiations, long discussions about acceptable and unacceptable behavior in a marital partner until you'd settled on agreeable terms. The wedding had been beautiful and emotionless. You'd assumed that the 'happiness' part would come later, once you were both fully established and settled in.

It never did.

Well, the establishment came; you both graduated law school, you with honors, and when job offers had come in for both of you from the same firm that worked very closely with the studio he'd always talked about working for, you thought the deal was sealed. Your perfect life, perfect marriage were supposed to start the day you signed your offer. You'd found your stride in your work, bought a house, seen him get promoted...and you felt no more positive about him now than you had on your wedding day. The feeling was mutual, and it wasn't hard to tell; he'd had god knows how many affairs, lazier and lazier about hiding them over the years, including a number of flings with his assistant, who was undeniably in love with him, poor thing.

It was because of this that she clearly resented being asked to do anything that had to do with you, including arranging the half-cocked romantic gestures he'd perform in order to show others that he was a good husband. This was mostly made up of having flowers delivered to your office every other week, something he'd never take the time to set up himself, so naturally, it had fallen to the girl. Reserving little effort for the task, she had obviously made a standing order for a dozen red roses, sprinkled with baby's breath, to be delivered biweekly, and left it at that. It was a nice gesture, sort of, but frankly you'd grown tired of signing for the damn things every time when you didn't even like red roses, and he should've known that. You'd been married almost a decade.

Besides, the smell of baby's breath made your stomach turn.

Still, the poor flowers hadn't done anything, so you continued to sign for them, continued to let each bouquet molder away on the little ornamental table in the corner of your office. True, it was nice to have the splash of additional color, the life in the room, but increasingly the thorny blooms irritated you, looking at them distracting you with feelings of muted resentment.

That's what you felt as you looked upon them that morning, rifling through your file cabinet to find the proper contract as you waited, the door to your office standing open and allowing you to hear when the elevator doors opened. Standing there was the famous cowboy, dressed in a wool overcoat and nice slacks, smiling at you as you beckoned him and his companion, a tall, mustachioed man you took for his agent, into your office. Each of them shook your hand and took a seat at your desk, waiting as you made your way to your seat and began to chat with the unfamiliar man about the papers. Talent almost never had anything to say to you in these meetings, in your experience.

However, he surprised you, both by being fairly knowledgeable about the terms of his latest contract, as well as by speaking directly to you in a casual tone that implied he might even see you as an equal. Cooper Howard being so nice to speak to wasn't really a surprise, as he had a reputation for it, but you were shocked all that he was currently going through personally didn't seem to impact his demeanor.

The woman representing him in his divorce had actually been in your law school graduating class, but you didn't figure that made for very good small talk.

"Alright, let's just make sure everything is squared away and we'll get this signed. " you said eventually, holding the little cluster of papers you'd scrounged up to scan it over. However, as the two watched you, your gaze caught on a misspelling; initially, you felt embarrassed, knowing it would have to be corrected, but then you noticed changes to the actual terms of the agreement and you fell completely silent.

Your eyes scanned slower as you quieted, realizing that the contract in your hands had changes that you didn't authorize, were sure that they hadn't authorized; subtle changes in the language that wouldn't draw much attention unless you were to slowly, carefully read through the entire thing right before the signatures went on...which was usually not the case. By now, the terms had been painstakingly ironed out and the thing had been edited and reread and reedited a million times. Typically, this meeting, the bulk of your job, was simply confirming agreed upon terms, collecting signatures, and filing the contracts away.

Something was awry here.

"I'm sorry, gentlemen." you said politely, sitting up straight and smiling as calmly, as normally as you could. "It seems I don't have the correct paperwork. This can't be the current version of the contract. We may have to delay."

"This is ridiculous. Ever since Vault-Tec took over legal, you people can't seem to tell your ass from your elbow." the mustachioed man rolled his eyes dramatically. "You don't have a para or anything to keep shit straight for you?"

"I really am sorry. It'll just be a few minutes, hopefully." you apologized again, cringing. You'd requested a paralegal multiple times and had been told that your role didn't require one, but you weren't about to tell him that.

"Well, if you're gonna make me wait around, I'm gonna go place a few calls in the meantime."

With that, the man rose abruptly and stepped out into the reception area. You followed him with your eyes, slightly worried that he would hassle your assistant in his seemingly aggressive frustration.

"He won't bother your girl." the man across from you said perceptively, surprising you. "He might seem like an asshole, but he's a good guy. Always done right by me. Just a little overprotective."

"Well, I don't blame him. Especially if he represents anyone else that works for this studio. Now every single negotiation has to come under extra scrutiny, not to mention all the contracts signed in the last year since the takeover..." you mused, a little too honest, but uncaring.

"I mean, if they've got you signing these dud contracts, too, isn't that bad for you?" he asked.

You chewed your lip for a long moment, your eyes dancing over the glass paperweight on your desk calendar as you thought things over. It was a sort of odd moment, having famous movie star Cooper Howard expressing concern for your wellbeing and job security.

"Well, I suppose that depends on how I ended up with a bum copy of your contract. Could just be me being forgetful or grabbing the wrong folder, which would certainly be on me...but if I'm honest, that doesn't really strike me as something I would do. Besides, I don't even recognize some of these terms."

"Lots of interesting stuff happening around here since Vault-Tec started buying everything up." he replied, a glint in his eye as he leveled his gaze directly at you.

"I agree completely. And, again, I'm really sorry about this. Let me look at this and compare it to an old one. I know I have a hard copy of the final edit here, and I know that this one doesn't match it. Just let me prove it and we'll sign the real one, if that's what you want. If not, I guess we'll decide where to go from there." you said, feeling infinitely more at-ease than you had before.

"Think your boss'll be alright with that?"

You gave a crisp shrug.

"I feel like my time working for these people is dwindling. Maybe not immediately so, but I certainly can't see myself advancing here. Don't think I fit the corporate culture. You know?" you laughed, and he joined you. It was almost surreal to interact with someone like him who treated you like you were a real person, who acted like a real person themselves.

"Nice roses, by the way." he said, gesturing with his head over his shoulder to the flowers on the table. "Pretty. Are they from your husband?"

His question seemed innocuous, so you weren't sure why your response came out the way it did.

"Uh, yeah. He sends them every other week. It's nice." you replied, your tone unnecessarily flat and sending his eyebrows raising, his head tilting about twenty degrees in intrigue.

"It's nice, huh? Is he in the dog house every other week?" he joked.

"I just don't really like red roses that much and they're all I ever get." you said simply, unsure how much would be too much to say in this suddenly inquisitive moment. "Sorry, that probably makes me sound ungrateful."

"Lemme guess...you like sunflowers."

His statement actually surprised you, since he was right; granted, sunflowers were about the second most popular flower in the country, and you had several paintings and tchotchkes featuring sunflowers up around the office, but it was still sort of odd to you for him to notice that.

"Observant, huh?" you blushed.

The smile he shot back at you was genuinely heart-racing, sending blood racing to your cheeks and your gaze skittering around your desktop as you busied yourself with a random stack of papers. The meeting finished up quickly when his rep stuck his head back into your office and called Cooper away, sending him rolling his eyes playfully as he reached across your desk to shake your hand once more, thanking you sincerely for your help before politely dismissing himself.

You were still thinking about the feeling of his hand in yours that night when you brought up what you'd noticed with your husband over dinner.

"Maybe you do need a paralegal if you're mixing up your paperwork that badly." he muttered through bites of his entree, not even fully lifting his head to look at you. "I'll see what I can do about that."

You rolled your eyes.

"No, I mean it. I think something weird is going on. Like I said, I went though the copy I kept and compared it to the one we had to sign. I didn't make some of those edits, and the terms of them were so unfavorable for them that I really get the feeling that they didn't make them. What if someone is messing with my paperwork or something? I'm the one that'll have to go to court and defend myself if someone ends up suing the company or the studio for contract fraud!" you insisted, your own meal hardly touched.

"Fine. If we've gotta go to court, we've gotta go to court." was all he said.

"We'd never win, though. They'd have a slam-dunk case."

He laughed in response, and you were shocked at how much the sound annoyed you.

"Oh, please. You think Vault-Tec doesn't have the money to keep them in court forever fighting over it? They'll run outta money eventually. Doesn't matter if they're right." he shrugged. "Don't worry about it. We'll get you a para so you can stop screwing up your papers."

You sat there in silence, unable to formulate a reply in your disgust with him. After a long moment, you excused yourself, emptying your plate into the trash before climbing the stairs to bed. The next morning, you called Cooper's rep the moment your husband left the house and invited him to come and pick up the contract copies from your office, all the discrepancies noted clearly. He happily agreed, the star showing up before anyone else had taken their places for the day.

"You're not wearing your ring." he said as he took the manila folder from your hand. You paused, confused, before focusing on your outstretched left hand and noticing that he was correct; your engagement ring and wedding band were missing, clear tan lines in their absence.

"Oh. I, erm, must've forgotten it at home." you replied after just a moment too long, your eyes flitting between his face and your naked finger as you felt your cheeks warm.

You'd never forgotten it before; putting it on was the first thing you did every morning to ensure just that. It was such a tiny, easy-to-lose bauble. Ever since you'd been given the thing, you'd been afraid of misplacing it and the reaction that would earn you. A muted tingle of worry crept up your spine that you may have dropped or lost it.

Both of them, though?

He thanked you sincerely once more, seeming like he wanted to say something else before dismissing himself. Both of you were a tad skittish at the sounds of people arriving in the hall outside, so you let him go, waving in response to the way he nodded at you as he pulled the door shut behind him. That night, when you returned home, you found your wedding bands sitting right on your bedside table where you left them every night. You were both relieved you hadn't misplaced them and curious about how you'd managed to completely forget about them that morning. Cooper Howard was quite the distraction, as it turned out.

You were still thinking about your interaction a few days later as you poured over already-signed documents from previous months, noting multiple differences between final drafts and signed copies, a feeling of dread building in the back of your mind. That smile he'd shot you from across your desk still managed to distract and make you dizzy, though, even as a memory, one you were indulging in yet again when the sound of the front office door opening broke your concentration.

"Your flowers are here to sign for!" your assistant suddenly called from the front of the office, sending you rolling your eyes at the timing until she followed it up with a pleasantly surprised, "They're extra nice this week!"

This sent you moving towards the door with just a little more hustle than usual, your brows furrowed deeper and deeper as a realization set upon you: it was the right day, but the wrong week for your usual rose delivery. The usual man was there to drop them off, standing right at the door and waiting politely. Same song and dance as usual.

"He picked out super pretty ones this time. Must be for something special." she mused dreamily from her chair as she watched you sign for them, nodding politely at the delivery guy as he let himself out.

There, on the desk, was a gorgeous, glossy blue vase filled with goldenrod sunflowers the size of your hand, nestled with tall, royal blue gladioluses and star-shaped balloon flowers. You could smell the arrangement from where you stood. Quickly, you carried them into your office and shut the door, not waiting for her to realize the date was off and start asking questions. Setting them on the usual side table, you inspected them closely. Nestled among the blooms was a thick little card, crisp handwriting inside the rich gold border when you opened it that read:

Thank you so much for your help with the contract edits. If you ever need to get ahold of me again, for anything, please don't hesitate to call me directly. - C.H.

Beneath that, a phone number that you promptly wrote into your address book and burned into your memory, a strange tingle in your gut as you looked your gift over once more. The card itself you tucked into your desk drawer, beneath some innocuous, boring papers.

You hadn't done anything wrong, except maybe in your employer's eyes, but you didn't want to risk anything seeming...untoward, despite your inability to simply throw the card away. You had the phone number now and didn't necessarily need to keep it, but something made you feel a little sad when you thought about tossing it in the trash can.

That evening, after everyone else had left, you called the number, fully expecting to have to leave a message and floored when he actually answered, rather quickly, in fact.

"Thank you so much for the flowers." you said softly, almost shyly after the two of you had exchanged fairly formal greetings. You should've followed up the statement with a "...but they aren't appropriate." or a "...but I'm married." However, you did not.

Interesting.

"Well, thank you for your help with the contract stuff. Really, it's so rare to find anyone really honest around here anymore." he said, and you could hear that killer smile in his tone. It sent your heart fluttering. "I'm still not sure what I'm gonna do, but I'll call you when I decide. Or maybe I'll come bother you at your office and see them in person. I didn't get to see the actual arrangement when I went down to order them, so I'm really glad you like them."

"You're always welcome to come see me if you need." you offered up much too quickly. "I usually stay late a few hours to look over things, especially recently."

"Well, you don't have to tell me twice." he replied teasingly.

After that, you'd swapped small talk for a few minutes before getting off the phone, the feeling of not wanting to hang up first heavy on both ends.

After that, flowers you actually fancied came for you every week for months on end, and still came to this day. It wasn't even the same flowers every time. He knew you liked sunflowers, but would often shake things up by sending arrangements of pale asters and black-eyed Susans, buttercups and gerbera daises, all in beautiful shades of rich yellow, studded with clusters of blue phlox, cornflowers, and larkspur.

His colors.

Over and over you'd told him that it wasn't necessary, that he didn't have to spend that much money on you just for flowers. But your arguments were rather flat and halfhearted; not only did you love having the gorgeous, vibrant blooms to brighten your office, you felt incredibly special at the effort he took to specifically gift you something you actually enjoyed. Besides, he refused to hear it, anyway, rebutting that he was a grown man who knew how to manage his money and what he liked to spend it on.

You started breaking up the bouquets of roses your husband sent, distributing them among the ladies in the office; some wanted color for their desks, others something to brighten up their window sills at home, and you were happy to provide.

The baby's breath, however, went into the trash.

You just tried to not think too hard about the lovely gifts technically coming from someone else's husband, including how the first few bouquets had come before he'd moved out of their shared home.

It had been when he'd finally done so that you two really started to become close. Already you'd reached the point of staying late an hour or so most nights just to talk to him on the phone in your office (with the door locked, of course), so you became quite accustomed to getting to speak to him directly, and regularly, especially when something was bothering you. At first, you mostly just talked about your days; you tried to avoid talking about your suspicions about your work, a little nervous about the security of your phone, so you largely listened to him talk about his latest divorce negotiations, his daughter, asking him questions about himself and answering questions in return. Sometimes, you would both lapse into a silence that was strangely comfortable, even over the phone.

Eventually, you both began to to open up more. You confessed that you got married for less than thoughtful reasons at a probably-too-young age, and all but said you regretted it. You also told him that you really hated your job, actually, and mused about the kind of work you'd do if you weren't where you were. Maybe something in the nonprofit sector.

He told you about his decision to get involved with Vault-Tec, about how he felt like Barb used his career to bolster hers, not caring what the impact towards him was.

Surprisingly to you, he never so much as implied that he resented her for it, but you could sense it there, deep beneath all of the very apparent feelings of betrayal and sadness. One night, he confessed that as much as he loved his wife, he didn't feel like he truly knew her anymore, that he'd always thought they'd shared the same values, and he now didn't think that was really true. There also seemed to be something else, something darker beneath it all, something that frightened him, but you could never get a good sense of what it was.

Over the next few months, you grew closer and closer, stealing rare opportunities to see one another for a few minutes during the day, trying to tide yourselves over until you could talk at night. Quickly, your talks became a necessity for you, a peaceful refuge where you felt you could truly get things off your chest with no judgment.

It became apparent that he felt the same the first night he'd called you at home.

The phone's ring had actually frightened you awake, sending you grabbing at the handset that lived next to your side of the bed in a blind, half-conscious panic. Your husband, asleep (or, based on the smell, passed out) beside you, didn't really stir.

"Hello?" you murmured, groggy with an edge of alarm.

"Hey." came a soft, familiar drawl. "I'm sorry to wake you. I didn't really know who to call."

Cooper's voice was a welcome sound, but the room, the whole house, was so quiet you weren't sure how much you could say without being overheard. For a long moment, you were silent, struggling to decide on what to say.

"Are you safe?" was the question you decided on. It seemed a little dramatic, but you weren't sure what was going on.

At the other end, there was a muffled squeaking sound, like someone shifting around in a leather chair, and a tinkling like ice in a glass.

"Yeah, m'fine. Just sitting here in the new place." he said, followed by an audible swallow. "So quiet. It's weird."

"Mmm." you responded cautiously.

Things were quiet for a time, and you felt a little awkward just sitting there, saying nothing, straining to hear any sounds from him.

"I miss you." he said suddenly.

"Miss you too."

"I'm sorry." he said again, and you could hear the intoxication creeping into his voice. "I know it's not a good time to call. Should've let you sleep."

"It's okay. Happy you called." you responded lowly, trying to use as few words, make as few sounds as possible. "Worried about you."

Finally, it seemed he was ready to say what was really weighing on him.

"Haven't slept without Janey in the same house since she was born." was all he said, his voice thick and strange. You wondered if he was crying, and it broke your heart.

"M'sorry, honey."

The pet name was soft and bittersweet as it rolled off your tongue for the first time. You wanted so badly to be able to be there for him, with him, keeping him company through this. Holding him.

Maybe if you were quiet, you could sneak out...call a cab from downstairs...walk down the drive and meet it...

But before he could respond, before your plan could form any further in your mind, your husband let out a cough, his chest jumping as he turned over roughly in bed. You lie as still as you could in response, trying to feign sleep, the phone cradled secretively against your pillow until he eventually resumed his deep, rhythmic breathing.

"He's there tonight?" Cooper asked. There was an edge to his voice that you didn't really recognize, but between the liquor he was almost certainly into and your still sleep-addled brain, you thought nothing significant of it.

"Yes." you said concisely, adjusting yourself just enough that you could crane your neck to make sure he was really asleep.

"Alright, I'll let you go, sweetheart. Sorry to bother you."

"You're not-" you began, but the line went dead before you could finish your thought.

The next morning, you'd tried to call him after your husband had gone, wanting to make sure he was alright after your call had ended so abruptly, but it was too late in the day and there was no answer. This made you worry that he was upset with you, that you'd done something or said something wrong in response to his vulnerability.

In fact, you'd been fretting about it, staring at the latest bouquet from him, some vibrant buttercups, chopped short and dotted with blue-and-yellow-streaked African violets, when your assistant poked her head in your door, an interesting glint in her eye as she spoke, pulling you from your distraction.

"Cooper Howard is here to see you." she said with a mild air of impression.

You stayed sitting until he strode in, thanking the girl as he removed his coat and hung it on the stand by your door. Smiling pleasantly at her, he shut the door behind him, hesitating for a moment before locking it. This sent you rising from your desk, making your way around the side to approach him, hesitating as you moved within a foot of him. He looked a little tired, which was unsurprising as you knew his sleep had been poor, but put together as always, clad in what looked like a thin denim shirt covered with a very soft-looking sweater. Standing so close, you could smell his cologne.

You'd intended to ask if he was alright, but you never got the chance. Cooper closed the distance between the two of you, his hands softly cupping your face as he leaned down to pull you into a tender, passionate kiss. You were taken aback a bit by the gesture, but easily let him guide you back a few feet until he was pressing your hips into the edge of your desk as he stole the breath from your lungs. Both of you were left panting when he eventually pulled back, quiet for a long moment as he petted your hair affectionately.

"Thank you for talking to me last night. I really needed it." he said, gazing at you tenderly before kissing your forehead. You didn't know what to say, and didn't get much chance to reply before he stepped away, adding "I have to get to set, but I wanted to come tell you how much I appreciate you. Talk tonight?"

You nodded enthusiastically, somewhat dazed as he went out. That day had dragged by so slowly, the minutes passing like hours until you could speak to him again. The next morning, his newest floral gift had arrived, and it surprised you: roses, but gorgeous, full blooms of a light purple that tickled you deeply. He'd never given you roses before, and you understood why, for sure, but these were beautiful. Your assistant seemed to agree, as well.

"Aww, how sweet." she smiled at you as she appraised the new blooms, leaning down to give them an appreciative whiff. "Love at first sight."

"What?" you asked, brow furrowed slightly.

She nodded to the flowers just inches from her face once again.

"Lavender-colored roses. They usually symbolize love at first sight. Or, at least, that's what I've read. Who knows, could be nonsense."

Her reply made your face redden again, taking the vase into your office and placing it in its usual place of honor. It had distracted you all day, another decade passing in your mind before you were able to call him that night.

"Did you like the roses?" he asked when he picked up. "I know roses aren't your absolute favorite, but..."

"I loved them." you said decisively. The heat in your cheeks was blooming further, intensifying, but the strange excitement that washed over you made it easy to ignore. "I really want to see you tonight."

That evening, he'd come up to your office and the two of you had shared a takeout dinner together, chatting and holding hands until it was time to part ways. Soon you were doing so most nights, ending with you in his lap, his tongue in your mouth as you rubbed yourself against his clothed erection, fooling around like teenagers.

This man was going to make such trouble for you, you could tell.

You also didn't care, really, which is how you ended up on your husband's arm, suffering through one of his colleague's fancy Friday night parties for once instead of sitting at home in your pajamas, clad in an outfit chosen just for the occasion.

Your dress wasn't especially scandalous, a dark grey wrap, soft and stretchy with sleeves that reached your elbows, the hem stopping just above your knee. Something comfortable and elegant, something you could wear to the office.

Something with deniability.

But you were also aware of the way this particular dress hugged every line in your body just right, form-fitting in all the correct places, making you feel feminine and sexy and powerful at the same time. Your husband complained it was "matronly", but you ignored him; his opinion didn't matter. Besides, the thing was nice and stretchy, so if anyone special found their way up your skirt for a few minutes, as you were hoping would happen, it'd be nice and easy to get in and out. You'd even worn a special set of underwear, red and lacy, beneath.

You only slightly regretted your choice of footwear, some very classy stilettos; while they really completed the look, sexed it up a bit, your feet had been aching for over an hour already, leaving you scanning the room for a free seat to flee to once you were able to slip away from the group chat you were currently enmeshed in.

The man you'd shared your home and bed with for the last eight years was strangely affectionate this evening, consistently cradling you into his side as he spoke boisterously and even occasionally sending a compliment your way. It made you wonder which young lady in the room he was trying to impress with his "perfect husband" routine, scanning around and noting several of his type; though, at least a few had already been crossed off the list. They avoided your glossy gaze, turning their faces into their Pip Boys or their wine glasses as your spouse continued to absentmindedly massage at your hip, his arm tight around you as he recited yet another unamusing anecdote to the men standing around you.

Among them was Bud Askins, head of some department of incapable jackasses with no moral compass, though which one, you could never remember. What you did remember was how often you caught him looking at you, the number of times he'd gotten close just to linger a few seconds too long. Fortunately, you'd always managed to slip out of the odd-feeling conversations he'd try to start with you. He wasn't the only one, either; so many of these men seemed eager to betray one another in basically whichever way presented itself first. It made you eager to remove yourself from this corporate world, to find a better way to live your life, and sooner rather than later.

Out of the corner, you watched as Cooper Howard sat on a chaise, sipping a cocktail and eyeballing you so hard you didn't even have to fully look his way to feel his gaze burning into you. You'd been waiting all week to make it to this party, not because you had any particular desire to hobnob and mingle with studio execs and Vault-Tec higher ups, but because you'd known the older man would be making an appearance.

You knew that, personally, he didn't really revel in the attendance of these get-togethers himself, but you also knew that socializing and getting face time with important people was one of the top ways that actors continued to get work. That was why he and Barb had quite literally had to iron out a social schedule with their lawyers: to ensure neither of them had more networking opportunities than the other.

He had to be glad that everything was said and done at last, finalized a few days before. You hadn't really discussed it; he hadn't brought it up much, save for to confirm it to you as truth. It certainly didn't feel like your place to mention it, so you didn't, wanting to be as supportive as possible.

An especially loud burst of laughter drew you back into the present, just in time for your husband to make a joke at your expense, sending you rolling your eyes and pushing your hand against his chest as he bent to pepper your face and mouth with half-assed, drunkenly apologetic kisses. You gave him one peck in return, not wanting to be the topic of gossip for the night. Feeling strange kissing your husband, especially with your present company included, you peeked over towards him as slyly as you could. There was a polite smile on his face, but it didn't touch his usually warm eyes, a tight irritation there as he cradled a half-full gin martini against his chest. A feeling of guilt sunk into your chest, but you were quickly distracted as the group around you moved into the kitchen, sort of herding you along as they went.

A couple hours later, when you finally managed to excuse yourself, the evening had begun to wind down, though not entirely; about two thirds of the guests had slowly flowed out, but those that remained seemed to be getting a sort of second wind where they all convened around the pool outside. You stood hidden away in the corner of the living room the party had vacated from, finally alone save for one or two caterers moving around, collecting abandoned glasses and emptying ashtrays in silence. Scanning the group outside, you failed to locate the one guest you actually wanted to see.

In fact, it had been over an hour since you'd even laid eyes on the older man, and you pondered that fact as you turned and made your way down the hallway, trying your best to look for a bathroom without seeming like you were casing the place or being too nosy. However, the cocktails you'd been nursing just to have something in your hand had been stronger than you'd anticipated, and it made walking completely straight, seeming normal, much harder than you'd thought. Your feet ached deeply from the uncomfortable shoes.

Eventually, you found a nice washroom, decently appointed with a massive mirror, into which you stared for a minute or two, willing yourself to sober up more as you washed your hands. You didn't want to make yourself seem foolish in front of Cooper, and you were fairly positive he wouldn't have left without you two speaking.

When you stepped back out into the carpeted hall, you assessed the wall of windows and the adjacent hall to your right, decided that he likely hadn't gone that way, and turned to head back towards the pool area, almost willing to ask one of the staff if they'd seen the incredibly recognizable man around recently, but you were quickly stopped.

"Nice dress." a low voice murmured, lips pressed firmly and suddenly against your ear as a pair of strong, wiry arms wound around your waist. The gasp you let out quickly melted into a giggle as his lips found the nape of your neck, kissing and nipping there playfully as he pushed his hips against your ass; a much bolder move than he would typically pull, but you were certainly open to his attention as he turned you, pressing your back into the wall behind you to kiss you deeply.

His hands were knotted deep in your hair as his tongue worked his way into your mouth, his thigh rubbing at the apex of your own as best as it could. Soon, you were far too worked up, arms wound around his neck as he shepherded you into a nearby open door, shutting it firmly behind you.

The guest room he'd tugged you into was cozy, but pristine, the low, full-sized mattress to your eleven o'clock covered with plush layers of bedding and rows of decorative pillows. Quickly, he tugged you over to the foot of the bed, urging you down onto your back as he hovered above you, one knee braced on the bed as he latched his lips onto your throat, dragging his teeth and tongue along your pulse point as his hands pushed at your skirt.

Despite the two of you never really going at it like this, his hands didn't stop the roaming along your body they'd started doing in the hall, didn't even pause as he continued to work your dress up your body, bunching it at your waistline, quickly and roughly exposing your lacy red hip-huggers to his hungry eyes. A rumble left his chest, low and deep like a growl, when two of his fingers met the warm, wet gusset covering the mound between your legs. For a minute, he rubbed firmly at your erect clit through the rough material, making you squirm and whimper. Eventually, he pulled his fingers away, tucking them into the waistband of your panties at your hip and yanking at the seam there.

"Wait, baby." you chastised, words still sort of slurred, but they obviously didn't register or were ignored, as he continued to yank at the fabric until it gave way under his hand, pinching lightly at your skin as he ripped the leg of the garment open before repeating the motion on the other side. This made you frown, upset at the loss of your favorite pair of underwear before he'd even properly gotten to see them on you.

"Cooper, stop." you said, trying to push your hands against his chest, your heart racing when he continued to ignore you, yanking the fabric loose from beneath you and stuffing it into his pants pocket.

Your lover's lips were attacking the exposed side of your throat and shoulder, nipping and sucking and huffing, your back pressed firmly into the plush mattress as you wriggled beneath him. Your entire body felt like it was on fire, between the one-too-many cocktails you'd had during the party and the way he was touching you, moving you, positioning you the way he wanted as he softly gyrated in between your legs, kneeling over you on the edge of the bed.

"Maybe we should wait." you breathed, your breaths deep and deliberate as you tried to sober yourself up enough to string together a clear thought.

It would've been difficult enough simply trying to resist his kisses, but your head spinning from the alcohol only made it harder. Still, this was some random Vault-Tec executive's guest bedroom. There was a party going on. Your husband was likely still outside mingling, possibly looking for you. The odds of that weren't high, but they weren't zero. While the two of you had fooled around a bit up until now, his hands slipping up your skirt once or twice during your make-outs in your office, you couldn't help but feel like you wanted things a little different for the first time you really had sex, for when you really took that plunge and committed to this path.

The man on top of you seemed to feel differently.

"Don't think so." he purred lowly into the crook of your neck, running his teeth along your collarbone and making you shudder. You could smell the gin martini he'd been holding earlier on his breath. "You made me watch him touch and kiss on you all night, and now you're gonna make it up to me."

Cooper's warm, softly calloused hand found your throat, holding you firmly as he gazed down at you. He wasn't choking you, per se; at least, not in the way that you would've anticipated someone would choke you, squeezing around your airway until your breathing was cut off. No, instead, he pressed his fingers and thumb into the soft flesh on each side, digging into your twin pulse points and slowing the flow of blood to your brain.

It didn't hurt or make you feel panicked. In fact, quite the opposite happened, your squirming finally ceasing almost entirely, your brain buzzing with warm, tingly docility. Between that and the already warm feeling coursing through your veins, you haltingly allowed your defiant legs to fall open halfway, slowly forgetting the reasons you'd been resisting, forgetting where you were.

"That's a good girl. You know who you belong to, don'tcha?" he praised, his free hand stroking the sensitive inside of your thigh reverently. The feeling of two of his thick fingers sliding inside of you suddenly sent you whining in response, both at the stretch and the slight sting of it. That sent a smirk ghosting across the actor's face, leaning in to run his lips along the soft, flushed skin of your cheek.

"Pretty little cheatin' slut. Now, be quiet and let me have what's mine."

His words both stung and fanned the flames in your gut, leaving you feeling frozen under his touch as he pulled back to look at you, now free hand leaving your throat and moving up to finish pulling the top of your dress down enough to expose the bra beneath.

"Mm." he hummed as he ran his free hand along the softness of your exposed clevage, though it was a curt sound. "This why you didn't wanna fuck me? Had other plans, huh?"

Briefly confused, you shook your head vigorously, your heart rate revving up once more at his tone.

"It's not like that, baby." you pleaded hoarsely, but your protests died on his tongue as he forced it back into your mouth, his hand knotting into a fist between your breasts, twisting the stretchy nylon of your bra's waistband around his knuckles and using the leverage it gave him to yank you up, dangling you for a few seconds above the bed as the seams popped and cracked at the tension. He was trying to destroy the thing.

A small whimper of discomfort left your throat as you felt the hooks in the back digging into your skin; the noise seemed to lift him partially out of the fugue he was immersed in, and he dropped you back down to the bed, the cups now bunching uselessly over your breasts, leaving them exposed to his warm hand. He was gentler with them than you thought he'd be, softly cupping them and rolling each nipple between the fingers on his free hand before sliding it up to cup your face, holding you and making you look at him as you muffled your cries into his palm. Your vision was blurry with unshed tears.

His fingers were still buried as deep inside you as he could get them, fucking you shockingly rough, pushing you closer and closer to the edge as he continued to toy with your aching clit. One particularly perfect movement made you cry out rather loudly, clenching around his fingers rhythmically as you came close to your peak.

"Nuh-uh. If you're gonna cum, honey, you're gonna cum on my cock." he whispered, his voice more steady than you'd heard it all night as he pulled his hand from between your legs. "Is that what you want?"

You couldn't stop the way your head set to nodding, the fat tears in your eyes finally spilling over and running down over his fingers as they cradled the side of your face, still muffling your sounds. Your eyes slipped shut for a moment, trying your hardest to collect yourself to some degree as you could hear the quiet sounds of his belt and fly coming undone.

A small voice in the back of your mind noted that he definitely wasn't wearing a condom as he let the leaking head of him trace back and forth through your soaking folds, tapping along your clit and gathering the slickness there as he teased you. The worry you'd felt melted away rapidly with his teasing, though, and soon you were breathily begging him to fill you, to properly fuck you.

Your name dripped from his tongue, syrupy and hot, as he pushed inside you.

"Fuck." you cried.

You couldn't see well in the dim glow of the bedroom, but the sensation, the slight burn of his girth stretching you open was vivid and detailed as he slowly began to work his hips back and forth, giving you a few breaths to sort of acclimate to his size before moving more earnestly. The bed frame beneath you was surprisingly squeaky as he fucked you harder, and you wondered, mortified, just how apparent the sound would be from the hallway. At least you knew he'd locked the door.

However, you didn't stay clear-minded enough to fret forever, his cock inside you and his fingers back on your clit rapidly soothing you into a state of hypnotized bliss, your body jolting along beneath his with every rough thrust into your flesh.

"This body belongs to me. This pussy belongs to me." he growled, his hips slamming into yours with bruising force.

"Oh, Cooper. Fuck me, baby." you begged, your nails digging hard into his shoulders through the softness of his shirt.

He sighed your name in reply, an echo following it a moment later.

The sounds of your coupling filled the room, making it difficult to hear anything outside, save for the occasional very loud splash from the pool in the courtyard.

He slid his tongue back into your mouth, winding and rubbing it along yours as he continued to use your body. Another echo of your name from somewhere that wasn't here.

"I think someone's looking for you, sweetheart." he whispered in your ear, sliding his tongue along your lobe and making you throb around him.

It was clear as day now: someone out in the hall was calling your name. Someone with a voice that sounded suspiciously like your husband's through the thick wood of the door.

Suddenly, there were shadows moving beneath. The sound of the handle jiggling made you freeze like a deer in the headlights; his movements slowed, but he didn't stop pumping between your thighs as he cast a downright impish look from your face and back to the door.

"Occupied, man." he called, pulling back enough so that his free hand could move down to slowly flick at your clit once more. Your hand that wasn't trapped between your bodies moved to cover your mouth, desperately trying to silence the whimper his touch drew from you as he continued on. There was some more shuffling, the shadows barely visible beneath the door dancing back and forth.

"Oh, erm. My bad. Sorry." the voice called, moving away.

It resumed calling your name as it faded to nothing.

Shockingly, you felt almost nothing, save for the older man's pubis grinding against your clit deliciously as he slowly began to build his pace back up, the creaking of the bed frame slowly growing louder and louder once more as the calling faded. There was no guilt, no sour sting of knowing you were betraying someone who supposedly cared about you like you thought there'd be. There was only the pleasure your lover was gifting you and the satisfaction of knowing you wouldn't be pulled away from him in this moment.

When the calling faded away to nothing, he picked up the pace tenfold, fucking you with wild abandon as the bed slid back against the wall with a thud. Your vision was quickly blurring again under his intense, animalistic attentions.

"Fuck, Cooper. I'm gonna cum..." you breathed harshly, tucking your head against his firm chest, your cheek rubbing against the overheating, rumpled silk of his shirt.

That drew a groan from him, his hips stuttering for a moment before regaining their tempo.

"Yeah? You gonna cum all over my cock, pretty girl?" he replied, his question low and urgent as his lips pressed to the crown of your head. "Go ahead, make a mess all over me."

Regardless of how quiet you tried to be, a fluctuating, nasal whimper escaped you as you fell completely apart under his touch, feeling your greedy cunt fluttering as you did, trying its best to milk him for everything he was worth. It must've worked well enough, as he seemed immediately overwhelmed by the sensation, his hips beginning to buck wildly as his fingers dug harshly into the plush meat of your outer thighs.

It was nearly impossible to remain quiet as he fucked you hard through your orgasm, pushing you closer and closer to overstimulation as he continued to abuse your swollen walls. Cooper's breathing was loud and harsh, broken up with muttered curses and little huffs of praise that made you clench around him even harder. At one point, he lowered his mouth back to your chest, grabbing the closest nipple between his teeth and lathing at it with his tongue, making you moan loudly.

The sound must've really turned him on, as he let out a long, low groan in response, his hands pushing on the backs of your thighs to lift your legs up onto his shoulders, folding you in half as he brought his other knee up onto the bed, thrusts reaching reaching even deeper than they had before. You jumped as his fingers found your clit again, rubbing it quickly and firmly, again rapidly bringing you right back to the edge, your aching pussy fluttering hard and making him groan once more.

"Cum with me, baby." he whispered feverishly, lips pressed to your forehead as his nose tickled along your hairline. "Cum with me while I fill up this pretty pussy."

This made you whimper, his words shooting down your spine and straight into your gut, which clenched tight in response, and it was all over for both of you. Your second orgasm wasn't quite as intense as the first, but it was no easier to stay quiet as you rode out the overwhelming waves of pleasure tucked beneath him, especially as he dug his teeth into the side of your neck to keep the growl that escaped him muffled. The sensation of his warmth pooling in your womb, his teeth back on your skin made you see stars.

You weren't sure how long you two laid there, him slumped loosely on top of you, most of his weight supported by his knees as you held him close, your own legs lowered back down to wrap around his waist. He was still throbbing away inside of you, and the feeling was so surreal; you and your husband hadn't had sex for months, but before that, it's not like it was a regular occurrence, and you certainly wouldn't let him do this. For years you'd been afraid of catching something...or having a baby that would tie you to him forever. When you'd first married him, you'd just assumed that you would eventually feel ready to have children with him.

Then again, you'd also assumed you'd eventually really love him, or feel loved by him, and look at how that worked out.

"Come home with me." your lover murmured into the side of your sweat-slicked throat. "Stay with me tonight."

His request settled into your chest weightily, excitingly, tingling its way upwards over your breastbone and spreading to your mouth, sending you scrambling to hold back the grin that wanted to steal across your lips. Your heart raced with a kind of pure, joyous elation you hadn't felt since you were young. A response didn't immediately jump to your lips, however; instead, you brought both hands up to cradle the back of his head, petting his slightly damp hair and neck affectionately.

Were you really considering just flat-out not going home to your husband? It wasn't like he'd never done it before. Hell, for all you knew, he'd given up his search for you and gone home with one of his roster. Maybe that hadn't even really been him at the door. Maybe it was Bud Askins looking to finally shoot his shot with you or something.

Frankly, you didn't really care.

"I'd love to." you said quietly, both of you moving to sit up.

For another few minutes, you sat on the mussed bed together, holding and petting tenderly at one another as you let your breathing and body temperatures return to normal. Eventually, the man beside you stood to right his clothing, his belt jingling musically as he tucked himself away, still turned so you couldn't really see anything. He was such a tease.

Pleasantly, you noted that your face no longer burned like it had earlier; that is, at least, until you stood to join him and felt a quick, warm rush of slickness race down your inner thigh, thinning and cooling as it wound its way around the back of your calf towards the floor. The gasp that left you instantly drew your lover's attention, and his gaze was still shockingly hot as he scanned you up and down.

"Makin' a mess." he teased, cutting his eyes at you playfully as he tugged the bedding loose, using the corner of the top sheet to quickly and crudely clean you. An indignant little noise left you at that, embarrassingly close to a cluck, which he chuckled at as he tossed everything down on the floor.

"Don't want some poor, unassuming soul sleeping in the mess, you know?" he explained when you looked at him quizzically.

"Oh...I still feel kinda bad that someone's gonna have to remake that bed." you responded, leaving the 'likely an underpaid housekeeper' part unsaid.

"Point me to the linen closet, sweetheart, and I will happily make it happen. Little late to save that labor now." he smirked. You took his point.

"Alright, let's get out of here before you get us caught." you replied, rolling your eyes to try and keep the impending grin off your face, failing miserably when he swatted you firmly on the ass. Your hands flew to your mouth, covering it to hide the cackle that jumped out of you, sending you glaring at him.

"C'mon, this way." he grinned, tugging you back down the hall towards the bathroom you'd used. Confused, you followed wordlessly, moving closer and closer towards the wall of "windows" you'd seen before until you realized that one was really a door to the gorgeous deck you could now see. As you stepped outside, the last remnants of the day's scorching heat kissed at your face. You were pleasantly surprised to see a set of stairs that led down to the ground level, into what looked like a strange statue garden: clusters of pillars along a winding gravel path, topped with geometric marble shapes of seemingly no significance. The whole thing was fairly ugly and reeked of "more money than taste", which wasn't surprising for one of the best and "brightest" at Vault-Tec.

At the very least, there were some very lovely bushes and flowers, the aroma of which enveloped you as the two of you descended the wooden stairs. Maybe fifty yards out, the edge of the flawless black driveway was visible.

The two of you stood out back for a while, hidden beneath the deck stairs; you leaned against the warm terracotta wall and watched him smoke a few cigarettes as he finished sobering up enough to drive, the ghost of his hands still running all over your body, his teeth still digging into your neck and making you shiver despite the balmy heat. Absentmindedly, you wondered if you would bruise where he'd bitten you.

You stood with your legs close together, a little afraid that you'd have another mess on your hands if you weren't careful. He didn't seem to notice, but you were quickly realizing that he was slicker than you'd given him credit for. In an attempt to distract yourself, you turned your eyes to the treeline, watching the crisp leaves sway back and forth in the soft breeze. You let out a breath you didn't know you'd been holding.

"I can't believe the number of people who had the gall to ask me where Barb was tonight." he muttered eventually, breaking your companionable, though contemplative shared silence.

You turned your gaze back to him, but remained silent, sensing one of the times he'd appreciate a chance to simply vent. Cooper Howard wasn't really a man to complain much, so when he wanted to, you let him.

"It's not like the divorce was a secret or anything. Been in and outta the headlines, the trades for a fuckin' year. Not like we both haven't been out alone. But it just so happens that tonight of all nights everyone wonders where she is within earshot. I don't understand the desire to play weird mind games with people you barely know."

There was real, deep frustration in his tone as he spoke, his eyes gazing out over the ugly little statues, unseeing. Softly, you reached out and put your hand on his arm, massaging gently.

"Some people just really enjoy other people being miserable because they, themselves, are miserable. Marriage issues are like catnip to the gossip mill. Especially the marriage issues of the beautiful and famous." you teased, fawning towards him and batting your eyelashes as you leaned against his shoulder.

"Oh, it's not just my dead marriage they're out there yappin' about, sweetheart." he grinned, burning cigarette hanging from his lips as he leaned towards you. "You had a face like a slapped ass when he kissed you, y'know. They ate that shit up."

"I think you mean you ate that shit up." you rolled your eyes, cheeks hot again as you turned your face to hide from him, from the truth of his words. It was rapidly coming to a point where you couldn't even stand your husband's touch. Maybe it really was time to start considering your options for divorce.

Well, the fact that you were even standing here said that it was time for divorce. No maybe about it. Your stomach turned unpleasantly, wondering how much fighting and negotiating you'd have to do yourself.

"Hey." he called, pulling you from your snowballing thoughts. "It's all gonna be alright."

You didn't look straight at him, but you let him slip his hand into yours when you felt it brush your palm. The feeling was shockingly soothing, and you quickly pulled him close for a long hug, smiling into his chest when you felt him kiss the top of your head.

"How are we getting outta here?" you asked when you pulled back, giving a casual glimpse around when you heard a particularly loud sound from the pool on the other side of the house. "Where's your car?"

"It's down the hill a bit. I just walked up here." he said, nodding towards a little gap in the trees you could now see, just the slightest glimpse of yellow nestled there.

"You parked that thing on the street?" your voice piqued, knowing how particular he was about his beloved car. To be fair, it was very nice.

"Yeah, in Beverly Hills. I think it'll be fine." he chuckled. "Besides, you never know when you'll need to make a quick and low-profile getaway. A valet would make that awfully tough."

Taking in the smirk playing at the corners of his mouth, the devilish way he was looking at you again, you couldn't help but suspect that this whole ordeal had been orchestrated. You also suspected you ultimately didn't care; you felt happier, calmer than you had in a long time. Cheeks burning again, you looked away from him shyly as the two of you fell silent once more, the stars struggling to be seen overhead among all the light pollution of L.A.'s buzz as you began to walk towards the driveway, still hand-in-hand.

The sidewalk was dark, save for the elegant street lights, the sky overhead painted in subdued inky indigos as you made your way down to the little yellow roadster. You weren't surprised when he led you to the passenger's side and opened your door for you.

When he slid into his own seat, his hand went right to your knee, petting sweetly as you two began the drive to his new place. You sat back in the plush, soft leather seat and watched the fancy, oversized houses go by. The affectionate hand on your knee slipped upwards after a few blocks, kneading the muscle of your thigh absentmindedly as it slowly worked its way beneath your skirt. This sent you tensing in anticipation, but his hand simply reached your mid-thigh and sat there, warm and pleasant, for the rest of the drive out of the hills, moving northeast towards Pasadena. The drive was longer than one would think, for the distance...if one had never been to Los Angeles, that is.

Overall, things were quiet again, and your mind turned to reviewing the events of the party. When the image of him standing over you, your leg caught in his grip as he maneuvered it over his shoulder flashed across your vision, you felt your swollen cunt clench, embarrassed that your engine was still running after all that. Not nearly as embarrassed as you felt when another warm trickle ran down the inside of your thigh, pooling in the skirt of your dress, though. You fidgeted in response, reaching underneath yourself as casually as you could, trying to gather the soft fabric to soak up the mess. Fretting, you tried your best to remember anything you could about stain removal on leather as the car slowed, creeping down a little residential street lined with condos.

The little brick townhouse looked nice, even from the outside, though certainly much less opulent than the home he'd lived in for the last fifteen years. You'd seen photos of it. This place was still lovely, though, and the smell of fresh paint tickled your nose as the garage door opened and then closed behind you. The room was pretty empty from what you could see, save for some boxes stacked in the corner and a tool bench, as you turned to find him staring right at you, his hand finally slipping further and further up your skirt until he was softly brushing at your slit with his fingers again.

A huffing little moan left you, quiet and tense, as two of those long fingers slipped back inside you all of the sudden, pushing whatever had leaked down your leg back up inside you. You clenched around his hand involuntarily, and he let out a dreamy sigh in response.

"Still makin' a mess." he murmured, leaning in and pressing his lips back to yours as his free hand moved up to cradle the back of your head. For what felt like an hour, you simply sat in the quiet garage, immersed in one another's breathless kisses just like all those nights in your office. Except now, there was no chance anyone was going to come along and interrupt you.

The fingers inside you remained still throughout, his thumb stroking teasingly at your abused bud before eventually sliding his hand away.

"Alright, kiddo. Let's go inside." he smiled, turning to pull himself out of the low-sitting vehicle with just a bit too much swagger and making his way to your side. Letting out a deep sigh, you took his hand as he offered it, cringing at the wet feeling of your inner thighs. The shit-eating grin on his face was impossible to avoid as he leaned in close, the musky, fading smell of his cologne wrapping around you.

"By the way, if you make a mess on my new floor, I'm gonna make you clean it up with your tongue." he whispered, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as his fingers played in the stickiness coating your skin. An involuntary groan left you, your hips twitching towards him with zero permission; that drew out a gasp when you felt something poking you back, digging into the softness of your belly.

You got the distinct sense that the evening was far from over.

#cooper howard #the ghoul #prewar!cooper howard #cooper howard smut #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #fallout tv show #fallout prime #submission

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esamastation · 1 day

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I have an ending planned, yeah. I even have a middle planned - in my head the fic is still at the first third. But anyway.

Into the Abyss started out as 2 different ideas smashed into one. First was older idea of SY donning on plague doctor getup to fight all the sex pollen, that's basically where the bird mask came from. Other was an idea - or rather a grievance - I had while reading another fic. I won't go into the details, it's not important, but it left me with a hankering for a properly monstrous/demonic SY fic. Specifically one where he became monstrous in reaction to equally monstrous environment. So I decided to write one.

That's basically it for the original plot for Into the Abyss - I just wanted to throw SY into the Endless Abyss and have him come out very much changed by it - bonus points if he got to absolutely abuse his PIDW knowledge. Both the world building and the System's antagonism comes from that - for SY to use his knowledge to his advantage the world has to be complex. And for SY to have a need to make use of it, he needs an impetus, a force driving him forward. Therefore, a world that wants to fuck him and a System that wants to kill him.

I'm not sure now if the idea of Endless Abyss being the result of the realms splitting in svsss is canon or fanon, but I really liked the idea of it as this chaotic in-between dimension that's being constantly ground between heaven, human realm and demonic realms, and probably some others. So that's what I went with - a constantly shifting hell dimension full of corrupt creatures and elements that long ago leaked in from the other realms. Festering, stagnating sewer of the other realms, basically.

Svsss has a lot of mentions of magical flora and fauna and svsss fanon loves it's sex pollen, so, lot of that seems like natural thing. I wanted to make things as uncomfortable for SY as possible, hence stuff like the Leaking Flower Meadow. I wanted SY not just badass - I wanted him to be uncanny, messy and feral. No room for his canon sensibilities and wilting flower act - the Endless Abyss takes his modern sensibilities about sex and puts them into a meat grinder.

For the various biomes in the Endless Abyss I took inspiration from games ice played over the years, can't really pin point what came from where. The shimmering atmosphere of the Leaking Flower Meadow came from the movie Annihilation, though. The Hell Frost is basically hailstorm from hell. And so on. Just picking bits and pieces here and there and smashing them together.

After that's it's basically another "put these guys into a Situation and see what happens" fic. Except it's a Lot of Situations. With a few "wouldn't it be cool if he did this" and "What's the reason he would do this" and "if this happened, how would he get out?" thrown into the mix.

I still got plans for Into the Abyss. Most involve scenes I want to see and stuff I want the characters to figure out. Just gotta figure out how to move all the pieces into place for the scenes to play out.

#How it was written #If you guys have specific questions that aren't about the future feel free to ask

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the-kaedageist · 2 days

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I used to be a lurker. I was painfully shy online, and I spent 20 years being changed fundamentally as a person by fics and not saying anything to the authors. It was such a deeply private thing, and I was terrified to leave comments or interact in any way, so I just carried these offerings around in myself.

Discovering how to become healthily active and involved in fandom - and learning how to overcome my fear of online interaction - has been incredible. I’ve made so many friends and built an amazing community over the last six years. But this post isn’t about that.

There are days I have to remind myself - I have no idea how many readers like my former self are out there. You will never truly know how your creative work - whether it be writing, art, crafts, etc - touches most people who stumble across it. You will never know how many people utterly loved your creation and were too shy to say anything.

This post is not shaming lurkers - nothing you could have said to me at the time would have changed me, and shame and guilt from knowing I should be leaving feedback and not doing so just fed my fear. It didn’t have anything to do with not wanting to participate in fandom or share my experiences with authors so they’d know they made an impact - it was a block in myself that I had to work through and overcome.

Because I was one once, I know they’re out there. I know they’re reading my stories, having their lives changed by them, and not saying anything. Just because they didn’t leave feedback doesn’t mean they loved my writing any less than someone who did. I will never know how many people I’ve touched with my writing, but because I put it out there, I know I have touched them.

I want all creators to take that with them when they’re feeling tired or unappreciated or like nothing they create matters. You put something incredible out into the world, made from your beautiful, creative human brain. Every comment is the tip of the iceberg. Yes, this post is about you. If you’re a popular artist or a prolific writer with tons of comments and kudos, or if you’ve written one short fic for a small fandom and received two comments: they’re out there, loving your work. You’ve touched someone, and this is what it means to create and be human.

#fanfic #fanfiction #writing #fandom #nothing in particular prompted this #just woke up thinking about how so many more people see us than we know #and how much every one of us matters #love to you all

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steddieunderdogfics · 2 days

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This week’s writer spotlight feature is: indelicate/@steddielations ! They have 13 fics in the Stranger Things fandom and all of them are in the Steddie tag!

lees_musings recommends the following works by @steddielations:

A Cup of Good Intentions

Trouble Looks Good On You

Wrap Me Around Your Finger

"their fics are so heartwarming and tender, i read them like comfort food"

"a cup of good intentions was the first steddie fic i read, it has a little velvet box in my heart <3" -- lees_musings

Below the cut, @steddielations answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!

Why do you write Steddie?

They’re just a really fun ship that you can do so many different things with. Just guys who need some healing and loving and I like giving it to them!! Also I see a lot of myself in both Steve and Eddie, so there’s some catharsis in writing them too.

What’s your favorite trope to READ?

Friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, friends with benefits

What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?

The same as above definitely

What’s your favorite Steddie fic?

These are all phenomenal and I think about them every day, they truly stick with me METAMORPHOSES by fastcardotmp3 A Certain Type by ann_anotherthing Sugar on my tongue by deadratz shake and sway me through the night by Craftnarok

Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?

I feel like I’ve written all the canonverse stuff that I wanted to now, so I’m excited to try out some au’s. Maybe once I finish up my current wips, I have this batman Steve and comic book writer Eddie idea that’s been in my mind forever now

What is your writing process like?

I brainstorm by writing down all the ideas I have for a particular story, then I try to organize it into a plot. Sometimes I just plan scene by scene, but I always write the dialogue first and then build around it.

Do you have any writing quirks?

Usually the best things aren’t added until I’m editing at the end, going back and doing finishing touches. Like with Trouble for instance, I didn’t add the kitchen conversation or the porch swing conversation or the joking scene with Gareth originally, it was all stuff I just decided to add when editing. Same for a lot of my fics, usually the things I get comments about the most are things I almost didn’t add.

Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?

I’m the worst at scheduling and posting so whenever it’s done is when it goes up

Which fic are you most proud of?

I’m most proud of Bleed Me Dry Before You Go because it’s the fic that I was really able to put the most of myself into.

How did you get the idea for Trouble Looks Good On You?

Well I knew I wanted to write a sub Eddie discovery fic, and honestly this just started as like a gag, just thinking about Steve’s jock habit of slapping asses and what would happen if he did that to Eddie, and that’s what awakens it. Then it gradually became something more serious and more thoughtful. I wanted to explore more of Eddie having this past where he’s had bad experiences with certain dynamics, and what it would mean for him to be comfortable enough to get to explore that side of himself with Steve.

When writing Trouble Looks Good On You, what was something you didn’t expect?

It started out as mostly crack so I didn’t expect it to become my longest, most character involved fic. Also I didn’t expect people to read it or like it because it was mostly for myself, so I’ve been very pleasantly surprised and grateful for the response to it.

What inspired Wrap Me Around Your Finger?

I realized I hadn’t written a virgin Eddie fic, and at the same time I wanted to explore more of what Eddie’s aftermath in Hawkins would be like, the full extent of his injuries and his reputation in the town, and maybe Steve helping him out, so it all meshed together. I worked on this for like a year so it had many phases, but adding in some Flight of Icarus lore also inspired me to make Eddie more gritty in this, very stubbornly attached to his independence, and I just love the depth it gave him in that fic in the end.

What was your favorite part to write from Wrap Me Around Your Finger?

Definitely all the banter, especially during the smut scenes, love a silly smut scene. Also can’t forget “I made sure there’s no stairs”

How do/did you feel writing A Cup of Good Intentions?

I cried so many times writing that. I just put myself in the position of Eddie and Wayne, thinking about my relationship with my dad. It was cathartic just writing that familial bond between Eddie and Wayne, and how deep that love goes through mourning and missing each other and then actually getting to reunite. It was an emotional one.

What was the most difficult part of writing A Cup of Good Intentions?

The fic had several different tones from grieving to yearning to suspense and also fluff and romance, so it was hard to blend that all together and make it flow without whiplash. Not sure if I succeeded but it was hard to do.

Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?

The cold open in Trouble, where it sounds like they’re hooking up but they’re actually moving an amp, probably the most clever innuendo unfolding I’ll ever make

Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?

I’ve got some stuff for sub Eddie week but after that I’m just focusing on finishing up Trouble finally

Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add?

At the moment that I’m writing this, I don’t know who nominated me, so I want to say thanks so much to that person!! I’m so flattered and I appreciate it!! Also to anyone who reads my fics, thank you genuinely. And to the mods of this blog, you’re all awesome for doing this and you’re so appreciated in the fandom!!

Thank you to our author, indelicate, and our nominator, lees_musings! See more of indelicate's works featured on our page throughout the day!

Writer’s Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!

#writer's spotlight #writer's wednesday #steddie #steddie fic recs #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #stranger things #ao3 writer #steddie writers

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miris-secret-files · 2 days

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I love your Adrien/chat noir fics! Id love to see another smut fic of Adrien x Reader but I'd love to see how youd write them almost getting caught

Almost Getting Caught || Adrien Agreste x fem!reader

A/n : I don't know if this is almost getting caught or getting caught but I think she couldn't see the whole thing tho 😂

Warnings : slight exhibitionism, making out, erection, grinding, hickey, fingering, implied sex, 18+ READERS ONLY and wrap it before you tap it

Masterlist ⚜

I don’t give permission to repost my work, if you want to share it just reblogue it

Word count : 882

Let's say you’re in the beginning of your relationship with him

He clearly didn’t tell anyone at home, so it’s not like he could easily sneak you in his room

The other option, which is having him coming in your home was also a little risky because well it’s not like he was unknown

You did try to do it several times between classes at school, but you never were able to go further than several kisses

So after some time you guys started to be kinda… really horny

And so desperate situation calls for desperate idea, so one day while he was at his fencing training you decided to prepare a little surprise for him

Of course you put your best lingerie on, lace bras with laces around the tops of your breasts, and panties whose edges hugged the contours of your hips

When his workout was over and he returned to the locker room, he certainly wasn't expecting to see you there.

"Hey Y/n, what are you doing here ? It's good to see you"

With two long strides he had reached you by his locker

Before he had even finished speaking, his arms were already around your waist, he couldn't help himself

His fingers rested on the very small of your back, while his eyes gazed into yours

Unable to wait any longer, you stood on your tiptoes and pressed your lips to his

For a moment he had forgotten where you were, so his fingers slipped a little lower and he clasped your bum in his hands

You let out a little cry against his mouth, making him chuckle

You knew it was now or never, so you grabbed his hands and pulled them away from your ass before tucking them back under your shirt

As soon as his hands made contact with the fine material of your bra, he softly kneaded your breasts

His curiosity and arousal soared, and all he wanted to do was see what you were wearing under

A few seconds later your top was pulled over your head and forgotten on the floor

His kisses bruising against your lips, you could tell he radiated envy and desire

His piercing green gaze was hungry as it rested on the delicate pattern of your garment

it was too much for him, and to tell the truth, it was too much for you too, who could feel his warm erection pressing urgently against you

(( Luckily Plagg was in his locker too busy eating his cheese ))

Your boyfriend pressed you against one of the lockers, one of his hands firmly gripping your hips as he guided the other under the waistband of your pants

He should have paid more attention to his surroundings, his senses would have been much more alert if you weren't moaning against his ear as he fingered you to prepare you for him

But it wasn't all your fault, he was involved too, grinding his aching bulge against you

It was literally at this moment that Kagami entered the dressing room to get her things

And unfortunately she didn't miss a beat, her eyes widening and her face turning as red as her wetsuit

"Oh my days ! What the hell are you two playing at ?!?"

Her voice echoed through the locker room for a moment before you and Adrien became aware of her presence

When he did, he froze against you, his member far from the throbbing state it had been in earlier immediately beginning to soften

He swallowed loudly, his mouth still against your neck as he quickly released his hand from your crotch and placed you gently back on the floor

At this point he turned back to Kagami, whose voice he had recognized, his build concealing your nakedness behind him

"A-ah- erm Kagami, s-sorry I didn't expect to see you here," he stuttered, scratching the back of his head

His smile was sheepish, his legs still trembling with desire

Quickly he brought his hand to his lips, hoping to wipe away the lipstick residue you had smeared there, trying to regain some semblance of dignity

But Kagami was far from finished with you "You idiots, next time think about going to the showers !" she yelled before grabbing her things and hurrying out of the place

Adrien turned to you, "Are you all right ?" his smile was apologetic, he just hoped you weren't feeling too uncomfortable

You smiled at him, even though the awkwardness could easily be read on your face, you too had lipstick smeared all over your face, and a big hickey on your neck

"Yes, it's all right, she just surprised me," you said, bending down to pick up your shirt

"Now for a surprise," he added, a little laugh escaping his lips

However, when he saw you about to put your shirt back on, he spoke again

"Y/n," his voice was still full of longing, "why don't we postpone this in the shower, just might take up on her offer," his eyes shone with mischief

You nodded and before you could reply he swept you off your feet and took you to the showers with him

This time no one was going to bother you, or stop him from giving it to you like you deserved

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perpetualexistence · 2 days

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Alenoah Hypnosis Corruption AU, where after Alejandro hears Noah call him an 'eel dipped in grease', Alejandro makes a deal with Noah... If Noah lets Alejandro hypnotize him into not saying the truth about Alejandro to anyone again, then Noah won't get eliminated... However if Noah refuses to get hypnotized, then Alejandro will hypnotize Owen instead, after Noah's elimination... Noah hesitantly agrees to be placed in a trance by Alejandro... Alejandro tells the hypnotized Noah to be loyal to Alejandro! 🍥

So, funny story anon. I don't really have any more ideas I could add to this lovely idea you've presented...because you've accidentally (I hope) recreated the wheel.

You've also accidentally awoken the essayist that has realized she has the opportunity to share things she knows. So, with that in mind:

(I don't mean for Lisa to be mad. I am genuinely excited to share these things with people who potentially don't know them. I just couldn't find a better meme.)

Feel free to read under the read more for fanfic recs followed by my own personal thoughts about the Alenoah hypnosis corruption and why I love it so. I'm basing my knowledge on what I've seen on Tumblr and on Ao3. If you feel like I've missed anything, please let me know!

First the elephant in the room: the horny fics.

Yes, the earliest examples of Alejandro using hypnosis on Noah were smut. No, I'm not about to link them for what I would hope to be obvious reasons.

To be clear, I've got no problem with people who do have hypnosis as a kink. Everyone's allowed to have or not have a kink so long as it doesn't hurt anybody. To each their own so long as consent's involved.

The problem only starts when you do things like bringing minors into the mix. For what, again, I hope are obvious reasons.

Hypnosis is something that can be used as a great plot device when used for non-horny reasons too, and that's the context we're looking at them here.

So now onto the more palatable dark, horrible things you can do with hypnosis! /aff

The one who started the most recent trend was Creative_Creatures with their fic To Reach New Heights. It's a NoCo fic they started in November 2023 and was discontinued in April 2024.

Alejandro tricks Noah into letting himself get hypnotized, and Noah starts getting more and more corrupted as he grapples with his sense of self and the version of himself Alejandro is imposing on him. Cody starts noticing something's up, and Alien Cody also gets involved in the plot.

There are some moments of OOCness that the author has admitted to. They've also stated that they no longer like the work, hence the fic being discontinued. However, I still think it's worth checking out at the very least as a fic to learn from. It still deserves the credit for being the first to try tackling the subject, even if the result didn't end up as expected.

After Creative-Creatures came Total-drama-brainrot, aka Ophe. For Ophe there's actually a linear timeline for how their fic, Snap, Crackle, and Pop, came to be.

The seed started on January 14th, where Ophe made a stray comment about how the fandom doesn't really address the fact that Alejandro hypnotized Owen, and received a response regarding the negative side effects of hypnotism that Owen could have hypothetically dealt with: https://www.tumblr.com/total-drama-brainrot/739512421490835456/i-was-thinking-more-along-the-lines-of-how-messing

About a month later, Ophe made a seemingly random ask regarding how one would write hypnosis. I may or may not have a footnote in this history as I made a comment regarding To Reach New Heights: https://www.tumblr.com/total-drama-brainrot/741634477880754176/how-the-fuck-am-i-supposed-to-write-hypnosis

A day later they unleashed Snap, Crackle, and Pop, a fic where Alejandro convinces Noah to make a bet regarding hypnosis, and takes advantage of Noah's forced compliance from then on. Though Noah is by no means helpless and finds his own ways to fight back.

The fic only has three chapters written so far with no clear idea of when the next chapter will release. Still, I highly recommend it for the writing and the exploration of the concept.

About a week later, Ayawilliams came into the picture. For those of you who don't know who Ayawilliams is, I'm going to assume you're new to the fandom. In which case, hi! Glad to have you here! They've been shipping Alenoah as far back as 2016 on Fanfiction.net from what I can tell. This was way before it started taking over as the main ship in 2021. They're still consistently writing fic every few days, and through all of this have made a name for themselves on AO3.

If you look through the comments for the first chapter of Snap, Crackle, and Pop you can see that AyaWilliams definitely did take note of the hypnosis fic, and of To Reach New Heights. Almost a week later they delved into their first foray into hypnosis fic: Passive. (Though the main inspiration for the fic is credited to a role-reversal genderswapped fic called Hexxed by lonelybrachiobrute (triceratroops)).

Passive's a role reversal one-shot where Noah is actually the one hypnotizing Alejandro to be better at the competition for just a small, tiny price.

AyaWilliams liked the idea so much they made a sequel fic set in the same universe during the London episode called Unrecognized Yearnings.

The hypnosis trend of fic came full circule on March 5, 2024 when AyaWilliams wrote A little persuasion. After London, Alejandro threatens Noah into letting Alejandro hypnotize him or else he'd do it to Owen.

Since that fic, there haven't been any new additions to the hypnosis trend for Alenoah.

Which I think is a shame, because I do rather like hypnosis as a plot device. It's a branch of mind control that needs one party to trust the other in order for it to work. It's an exploration of power dynamics, and how they can be exploited and taken advantage of.

And although none of these fics explore it, I also like considering the other side of hypnosis. With the idea that the trust is warranted, and the hypnotizer uses a power that could so easily destroy and corrupt to instead help the hypnotizee achieve a state of calm and peace they didn't know was possible. Or to help them work past their own inner demons by detaching in a safe way, with the ability to ground themselves to come to a better understanding of themselves.

Or as another, more specific, certainly not something I have in mind for one of my own AUs example: Having Alejandro who starts off with using hypnosis merely to get what he wants from people, only to transition as he grows as a person to use it to do something like bring a certain cynic out of a dissociative state induced by personal trauma. And possibly becoming open to the idea of allowing said cynic that same amount of power over him, creating a more balanced relationship founded on trust between the two.

But you didn't hear that example from me.

Hypnosis can be used in multiple ways, and how specific characters use it and react to it speaks so much about who they are as a person. Every way is neat, and I hope to see more of it!

Thanks for coming to my TEDtalk.

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katerina-marie · 2 days

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The Uncertainty of Domesticity

Toji Fushiguro x Female Reader

Part 1, Part 2 of 3

Toji Fushiguro wasn’t afraid of much, though he definitely felt so when he became a widower in the same moment he became a father. Years later, he felt it again when you came along with the same hopes and dreams for a future he never thought he would experience again.

Content: JJK universe but no canon events / strangers & neighbors to lovers / medium burn idk / female reader and referred to as such but left descriptively vague / no y/n / out of character and soft Toji / single-father Toji / NSFW - vaginal sex so please avoid accordingly - but I can't write smut to save my life so it's not very explicit / Megumi-Mama/Mamaguro dies in childbirth and its mentioned once or twice / cutie pie child Megumi / fluff / slice of life / light angst from Toji's inner turmoil / discussions about having children / pregnancy and childbirth for reader in part 3 (pending) / more notes below

WC: 7.9k

Notes: Slow burn? *Shakes head* I don't know her. I find in my fics that I like to write from a farther out, outside looking in perspective, or in a more snapshot-esque view. Pacing is hard for me in terms of how to write authentic relationship progress, so forgive me if it comes across a little too fast. Though, that is somewhat intentional with this story. I like the idea of Toji and reader going all in cause life can be short and cruel and who's to say that you can't?

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

Toji wasn’t entirely sure about the Itadori family.

Yuji was fine enough, if not a bit empty-headed, but his two older brothers caused his eyebrows to raise every time he saw them. The one with pink hair had a temper that rivaled his own and was somehow covered in various black tattoos despite the fact he was still a young teenager. The other one didn’t seem any better to Toji, with dark circles around his eyes as if he was in a constant state of sleep deprivation, and he too had some odd black mark across the bridge of his nose and cheeks. The father was something else as well, but they were kind and accommodating to his son, and it didn’t escape him that they lacked a mother too. All in all, Megumi needed friends, and apparently he picked the odd ones, so Toji would tolerate their peculiarities for the purpose they served. Namely, acting as spare babysitters when the occasion called for it.

But of course, the one time he really needed them, the whole Itadori household had come down with the stomach bug. Since Toji had already done his time with such an illness with Megumi before, he wasn’t so inclined to do it again. Thus, he was sufficiently out of babysitters. Usually if the Itadoris weren’t available, Toji would bribe one of the more trustworthy older students from the school to watch Megumi in exchange for cash and pizza, mostly for nights involving a failed date or something less noble that never felt worth it the next morning. However, in an unfortunate turn of events for such a pleasant Saturday, it was his job and students that were requiring his attention. The principal had rung him twenty minutes earlier to demand his presence in helping with a situation no doubt caused by a particularly troublesome twosome, and Toji wasn’t keen on his last resort of bringing Megumi with him.

That left you. Toji wasn’t sure why he was so nervous about the idea. You had offered again since the first time just last month to watch Megumi for him, but he hadn’t yet found a reason to do so. He wasn’t going on any dates, at least not since you moved across the street, and if Megumi was over spending time with you, Toji had a feeling he’d be itching to do the same.

However, time was ticking, and the longer he stood at the window that afforded him the best view of your house and snuck another glance through his blinds, the more likely he was to forgo the idea entirely. Thankfully, Toji could feel the weight of Megumi’s eyes on his back and since it felt very much like his son was thinking of him as something close to moronic, he yanked his phone out of his pocket and dialed your number before he could stop himself.

“Hello, neighbor,” was your standard choice of greeting for him, but the way it flowed off your tongue and lit upwards at the end always had Toji trying to calculate in his head how many times he could reasonably call you in a week before he could be seen as desperate.

“I have a favor to ask,” he said tightly, and he turned from the window to pace along the back of the sofa that Megumi was currently sitting on. “Can you come over and watch Megumi for a couple hours? Work is being a pain in my ass and I’m needed there, but Yuji’s family is sick, so I don’t really have anyone else to watch him.”

You didn’t miss a beat before squealing your reply into his ear. “Of course! Give me five minutes and I’ll be right there.” Toji, the grouch that he was, couldn’t deny that your enthusiasm for the prospect of spending time with his kid made him feel soft and warm in a way that he usually found unappealing for himself.

“Thank you,” he said back, and he could hear you bustling about on the other end of the phone, “the front door will be unlocked, so just let yourself in.”

After a quick, “sure thing,” you ended the call, and Toji let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding on to. He looked down at Megumi, and from the grin on his face, Toji could tell he knew exactly what was going to happen.

“You better behave, you hear me?” His son nodded so quickly—enthusiastically—that Toji was shocked his head did bounce right off. “You know your schedule for the rest of the evening, so don’t try to weasel anything extra out of it, else I’ll find out.”

Toji walked back to the window to glance through the blinds again. “And don’t tell her anything weird about me either.”

Megumi made a confused noise. “Like how you look for her out the window all the time?”

Toji dropped the blinds so quickly one would think they turned animate and bit him, then spun around to stand up straight. “I don’t do that,” he said gruffly, but Megumi wasn’t paying him any attention, clearly unimpressed by his father’s patheticness, and was instead focused on the book in his lap. Instead of trying to argue with a kid who wasn’t yet six, Toji dashed off to the bathroom to double check its state of cleanliness. He had just finished up when he heard a faint knock at the front door and then your voice greeting Megumi a second later.

Upon coming out and seeing you standing behind the couch while Megumi pointed at something in his book, Toji suddenly wished he didn’t have to leave at all. You were clad in a blue lounge set that looked as soft as he imagined you felt, and under your arm was a bag stuffed with puzzles, movies, and Megumi’s favorite bag of chips. The smile you gave him when he walked up to you didn’t help his motivation either.

“Hi,” you chirped, and Toji didn’t miss your swift head-to-toe onceover of his work clothes that you didn’t even try to hide this time around.

“Hey,” he answered back, and god, he’d be lying if he said that looking down at you while you gazed up at him through darkened lashes wasn’t his one of favorite things as of late. “Thank you again for doing this. I owe you one.”

In the first instance of touch since he had hugged you a couple weeks back after losing Megumi at your house, you placed your hand on his upper arm and squeezed just a little. “It’s no trouble. I promise.”

As the two of you shoved him out the door, clearly catching on to his reluctance to leave, you gave him a cheery promise to keep him updated on everything he’d miss, and as the day wore on, seeing your name on his screen followed by a photo evidence was an extra pump of adrenaline to his system.

You and Megumi sitting outside with ice cream cones that dripped down your fingers.

Megumi’s look of elation when he finally fit the last piece of a puzzle together.

A sheet pan of chocolate chip cookies fresh out of the oven with the assurance that you wouldn’t let Megumi eat more than two (an hour).

You perched on the side of Megumi’s bed with a book in hand while he was snuggled under the blankets as a yawn took over his face.

Each and every one ended up being saved to his phone, and Toji didn’t have any explanation as to why other than because he had wanted to.

By the time he was finished and leaving the school, the sky was black and the air was quiet. The time on his watch told him that Megumi had been in bed for close to three hours now, and Toji wondered what you had been doing in the time since then.

How would you look curled up on his couch with a book? Did you fall asleep to some movie that you had put on the TV? Would he be wrong to imagine that you would glance at the door occasionally and wish that he would walk through it at that moment?

Thoughts of you kept him occupied on his drive home, and once there, he hurried to park the car and bound up the couple steps to his front door. When Toji finally pushed through it, you were sitting in the corner of his couch, TV on and a plate scattered with cookie crumbs in your lap. You craned your neck back to look at him, and the slow smile that stretched across your cheeks had him aching for the nights long passed when there had always been someone to welcome him home.

“How’d things go?” You turned the TV off and shifted in your spot to place your hands on the back of the sofa and then rested your chin on top of them to watch him expectantly

“It was…fine,” Toji managed, and it occurred to him that there was a whole other world he kept hidden from you. At some point, should you indicate that you wanted something more from him, he would have to divulge that pertinent information to you. However, that was getting ahead of himself, and he racked his brain to come up with an explanation that would satisfy your curiosity, but wasn’t so detailed that he couldn’t explain it away if necessary. “Our school was hosting an event with another a couple hours away and, naturally, our resident trouble-makers did something they shouldn’t.”

“Sounds fun,” you remarked sarcastically.

Toji huffed a quiet laugh and considered moving from his place in front of his door to sit next to you but only managed one step before you were making a move to get up.

Another missed opportunity.

“I, uh, really appreciate having you watch Megumi for me today. It seems like the two of you had a good time. But I’m sorry this is how you had to spend your Saturday night.”

“Don’t be. I don’t mind at all,” you told him as you stood and bent down to grab your bag off the floor. “Megumi is a great kid, and I love children.”

The adoring look on your face combined with the wistful way your words came out had something twisting uncomfortably in Toji’s stomach. He clenched his hand around his car keys until they dug into his skin painfully. “You do?”

“Mhm,” you hummed, coming around the couch to stop in front of him. “I don’t get to spend much time with them—I only have a few friends that have one or two, and I never had the patience to be a teacher.” You poked a gentle finger into the meat of his shoulder in a way that was teasing, but for once he couldn’t bring himself to react.

Neither do I.

“So you want your own one day?”

Your expression shuttered and went uncharacteristically blank, and Toji suddenly wished he could turn back time. His words must have come out strained, or maybe disapproving. He didn’t intend for them to sound like so, but something about them set your jaw tight and had your eyes drooping in what looked a lot like disappointment.

In a brief flash of self-pity, Toji found himself missing his wife. He missed having someone that would be patient with him in his foul moods and curt way of speaking. Someone who guided him through the tangled web of his emotions and helped him coax out something gentle and palatable instead. Toji wished he was better at whatever this was just so he had a chance at keeping you near him.

“I do,” you finally replied, but the words were hushed and dismissive in their finality. Toji couldn’t think of anything else to do but nod, lest he open his mouth again and dig himself deeper into something irreparable. He turned his attention over your shoulder and down the hall to where Megumi lay sleeping so he didn’t have to keep subjecting himself to how you were now looking at him like you wished he was something else.

“Well,” you started, and Toji hated how your voice was clipped and forcibly light. You stepped around him to reach for the front door. “It’s late, and I want to make sure we all get some rest. I’ll see you two later, yeah?”

You were already mostly out the door by the time Toji was able to call out a goodbye and you disappeared with a quick flash of your fingers. Resignation lingered in the air after you left and it made Toji feel like he had done something very wrong.

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

If you thought about it hard enough, you really had no one else to blame but yourself for the maelstrom of your emotions.

It was almost frightening how quickly disappointment had tempered the giddiness that crackled under your skin that evening in Toji’s house. He looked like he had seen a ghost when you mentioned your love of children. His question had come out sounding like he had swallowed rocks, gargled and strained and like it took every ounce of his effort to get the words off his tongue. When you had confirmed it for him—that you wanted children one day—his nostrils flared wide and the entirety of him tensed so visceral that it looked painful. You had kindly seen yourself out at that point as you were certain his body had unknowingly entered a state somewhere in between flight or fight, and you didn’t wish to aggravate it further.

If his reaction to a question that didn’t have anything to do with him at all on the surface—maybe the underlying tension was a cause for that—then you didn’t know why it felt like the floor had fallen out from under your feet, or why your stomach had dropped so heavily it actually pained you. But that was a lie, and you knew that somewhere in the last six months you had grown inexplicably attached to Toji Fushiguro and his six year old son. It wasn’t quite that you had already picked out names for children that had your hair and his eyes, but the possibility of something more with him had felt so close to fruition, almost tangible in your grasp, that having the hope of it dashed so suddenly was crushing in its own right. You would not bend in your desires for your life, at least not one so significant as that, but neither would you expect Toji to give himself to something that he didn’t want, not when it would require all of him.

So, as you had read about but never quite experienced, maybe there wasn’t anything quite as painful as “almost.” When you had returned home that evening, your first stop had been your shower as it was the most proper place to wail about opportunities missed and allowed for the dramatics towards a situation not yet fully understood because it all could be washed away with the swirl of a drain. And, in your most infinite wisdom, the only way to recover from such a figurative loss was to choose the mature path and avoid the thing that caused the pain in the hopes that detachment would prevent any further attachment.

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

The longer Toji stared at his phone with his thumb hovering over the button that would dial your name, the more imbecilic he felt.

He had been skirting around you for the same amount of time you had been acting weird (three weeks and two days, but he wasn’t keeping count), but when Megumi looked up at him this morning with a pouty lip and imploring eyes, begging him to invite the pretty and kind neighbor over for his birthday this weekend, Toji knew he was going to be have to be the one to wave the metaphorical white flag.

For what exactly? He had no idea. But clearly, his son had gotten just as attached to you as Toji was, and he couldn’t blame Megumi at all for it. Not when you always stopped to listen when he spoke, remembered the name of his favorite stuffed animals, and asked about his best friend Yuji. Even more so now that Megumi had figured out you kept a stash of his favorite snacks in your pantry for whenever he found himself over there, a frequency that had been increasing until lately.

Toji hadn’t really minded having to go over to your house and fetch his kid, not when he could wager with himself (the only form of gambling he permitted nowadays) on what you’d be wearing when he walked through the doors. Sometimes it was the well-tailored fabric of your work clothes, and other times it was some combination of skin skimming pants and shirt that was somehow just as appealing as the little dress that swung around your hips with every step. You had knocked the wind out of him with that one a while back.

Yet, all of that was negated by the fact that you had started to distance yourself ever since that night you babysat Megumi. After stewing over the stilted conversation for the rest of the night after you left, Toji chalked it up to nothing more than an awkward misunderstanding. Though on the following Monday, when you had come home early from work while he and Megumi had been playing outside, you offered nothing more than a brief wave and a smile that seemed less enthusiastic than normal before shutting yourself inside for the evening. Megumi had looked as dejected as Toji felt and to their frustration, the rest of your interactions followed suit.

To make things increasingly worse, on Tuesday evening just last week, Toji happened by the opened window in his living room and saw a car a whole tax bracket nicer than his sidle up to your driveway. You had gotten out, smartly dressed, and a tall man equally well clothed had stepped out of the driver’s side. The two of you chatted animatedly the whole walk to your house, but Toji had turned away before he could witness whatever was about to happen on your doorstep.

The memory had him angrily mashing his thumb into the dial button and bringing the phone to his ear.

“Hey,” you answered on the fourth ring. Your voice was still light and chipper, but lacked the warmth and enthusiasm you usually held for him.

“Got time to talk?” Nerves had Toji reaching straight to the point. “Megumi’s with Yuji for the next little bit.”

A beat or two passed before you answered, but it was long enough that Toji squirmed in his seat on the couch. “Sure. I’ll come over there?”

Toji gave you the same instructions as last time: to let yourself in. Two minutes later the knob of his front door was twisting, and he was up in a flash. You greeted him with a half-hearted grin as you stepped over the doorway, and he held his arm out to direct you to the couch.

“You’ve been avoiding us,” he said bluntly as he closed the front door behind you.

You winced, shame making your cheeks warm. You took a seat and Toji plopped down next to you on the couch just as you got settled in, and the weight of him dipped the cushion enough that you slid a little closer to him. You righted yourself before speaking. “Ah. You noticed?”

Toji looked thoroughly unimpressed and none too pleased, and in the silence you swallowed thickly. His living room suddenly became the most interesting thing. The TV stand against the front wall only held the large flat screen and nothing else. The window to the left of the room looked out over the street. In front of the sofa was a pale wooden coffee table with a half-done puzzle. In the corner to the right of the TV, there was a shelf layered with some knick knacks, a couple of Megumi’s books, and if you squinted hard enough, you could just make out a small framed photo of Toji and a woman with dark hair.

“I felt like I had hit a nerve unknowingly that night, and I didn’t want to linger around and make you uncomfortable,” you finally admitted when the quiet became too much. Toji had been watching you with those unnerving eyes of his and he let out a stream of breath as he leaned back against the sofa. He laid his arm across the back of it and when his fingers landed just a hair's breadth from your shoulders, you would have sworn they twitched outwards to try and graze your shirt.

“Maybe a little,” Toji said, scratching at the back of his head with his other hand,“but you didn’t know, and that’s not on you.” His eyebrows furrowed and it seemed like he was concentrating on something, maybe remembering something you had said. “Aren’t you scared?”

It was your turn to give him a quizzical brow, and while you weren’t sure where exactly he was going with the question, you had no doubt about what he was asking. “About having children?”

Toji nodded and you let out a little noise of understanding. He watched as you tilted your head to one side, peered up at his ceiling and chewed at the corner of your lip as you collected your thoughts. You drew your feet up onto the sofa, facing him, and pulled your knees to your chest to relax further into the corner, and Toji had to fight the urge to nudge you into speaking. Your toes wiggled from where they sat just a half foot away from his leg.

“Maybe a little,” you considered, and Toji’s face slackened. “I’m sure you know that having them is a huge change and an enormous responsibility, but it’s worth it, no? In the same vein, I’d be scared of not having them even though I want to just because I’m nervous. I think having to live with such significant regret would be just as terrifying—at least for me. But that’s part of life, isn’t it? Doing the things that scare us because we want the chance of happiness that they could bring?”

He studied you, seemingly perplexed by your decision and his inability to understand it, but you didn’t squirm under his gaze and you willed yourself to remain quiet in the hopes that he would respond. His fingers behind you thrummed against the sofa, and his eyes darted once to the picture frame on the shelf.

“My wife died giving birth to Megumi, or right after technically.” Toji saw from the corner of his eye how your face fell, but you didn’t open your mouth to offer your condolences, so the rest of the story—his tragic past (minus the parts about the things that went bump in the night. That was for another time)—spilled out without a hope from him to stop it. By the time he was done, Toji’s nails were clawed into the fabric covering his knees, and at some point you had shimmied across the sofa closer to him so you could rest a reassuring hand on his arm.

“I’m so sorry,” you said, voice delicate and just above a whisper. The emotional aspect of it all made it feel like his skin was crawling, but Toji worked past the sensation. “I hope I didn’t come across as insensitive earlier. All those words only apply to me and how I feel. Your choices for your future, no matter what they are, are plenty valid.” You ducked your head down to meet his eyes better, and when his met yours, the sorrow in them made your chest ache.

“I owe you another apology,” you added sheepishly, and when Toji opened his mouth to disagree, you moved the hand from his arm to hold it up to him in hopes he’d hear you out. “I acted poorly. Childishly.”

You suddenly looked everywhere but at him, and your voice was hesitant when you spoke again. “I was being presumptuous in thinking that my decision to have children one day would matter to you. I got ahead of myself.” The whole thing felt very reminiscent of grade school “love” confessions and secret meetings. Hot embarrassment made your palms sweat and you itched to flee to the shelter of your home.

Next to you, Toji made a wounded little noise in the back of his throat, and his spine stiffened when understanding hit him and he realized that—no matter how far-fetched it seemed at the moment—you had considered him in a glimpse of your future. The image of it, something that he hadn’t seen for himself since the day his wife died, appeared in his mind and nearly stole his breath away.

Megumi. A wife—you this time. Children. Happiness and peace. The same terror that it could all be ripped away and he would be left alone again.

If he had you, Toji knew he wouldn’t be able to deny you anything, but there would be no solace for him those entire nine months, and even after, should he find himself in the same shoes again. Tentative excitement and abject fear would war inside of him from the moment the two of you would commit to the idea, and if he was lucky, maybe it would abate in some reasonable amount of time after you delivered his child and lived long enough to enjoy it with him.

Toji knew the odds of such a tragedy occurring again was low, but likelihoods and probabilities mattered little when he already knew their worst case outcome.

“But that’s part of life, isn’t it? Doing the things that scare us because we want the chance of happiness that they could bring?”

“Presumptuousness is okay sometimes,” Toji murmured, and though your expression was hopeful, you shook your head once.

“Maybe,” you conceded, and he could tell you weren’t entirely convinced. He could see as doubt trickled into your features and turned down the corner of your lips. “The topic of children isn’t something to be left undecided or uncertain.” Your lips stayed apart and moved slightly even though nothing came out.

“I like you,” you breathed out once you seemed to regain yourself, and hearing the words out loud was a balm to Toji’s ears. “But I’m not willing to sacrifice my own happiness, not for something like this. And that’s okay. It’s also okay if you don’t want them, but that means this,” you gestured between him and yourself, “doesn’t go any father and that there’s someone else out there for each of us.”

The memory of the man walking you to your door left a horribly bitter taste in his mouth, but Toji knew it wasn’t jealousy or possessiveness that drove his desire for you. The craving for domestic bliss, to have a person that loved him and his son had him yearning to pull you close, but the anticipation of something sinister lurking and waiting to snatch it away made him falter.

“It’s not that I don’t want them,” Toji said, and he made sure to hold your eyes with his. “I’m scared of what happens if history repeats itself.”

When he turned his head again to the shelf in the corner, the conversation and his reactions from that night seemed to make more sense. And now, when Toji stared at you in a way that was a little helpless and a little entreating, you were powerless to do anything but give into the thrill that hopefulness brought forth.

“Well, your fear isn’t unfounded,” you told him gently, and he nodded in agreement, “though I’d like to think that this would be worth it.” You let your hand drop onto his and used your nails to scratch gently on the back of it. Tension bled out from his shoulders and Toji shifted forward just so he could be close enough to share the same air as you.

Perhaps the emotional turmoil of a tragedy passed wouldn’t cease to exist overnight, but if hopeful optimism could be found in the eyes of a person who set one’s heart alight, then maybe the two of you would be just fine.

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

Time seemed to move slowly and all at once from that afternoon, and each interaction afterwards brought forth an emotion well known but newly rediscovered in light of emerald eyes and a scar in the corner of smirking lips.

Humor when Toji had wandered off to the kitchen after your talk to get a glass of water and surreptitiously inquired about the man in a suit at your door last week. There was a clatter of dishes when you made a casual off-hand remark about the quality of the view from his window, and when he returned to you without a glass in hand, looking like he was trying very hard to appear nonchalant, you couldn’t help but giggle at his expense. You had to explain that the man in a suit was just your boss dropping you off after a conference and that he came to the door to receive the gift you had for him and his wife to celebrate the arrival of their new baby. Toji had looked a little embarrassed by the end of your explanation.

Disappointment when you found out Megumi’s birthday coincided with a non-negotiable event at work and you’d have to miss it. You weren’t sure whose face was harder to look at when they each turned their pouting lips and begging eyes on you. However, when you had knocked on the door late in the evening on Megumi’s birthday, a little breathless and carrying a balloon and gourmet cupcake, the little boy had thrown himself at your legs in a fit of giddy laughter. Toji looked at you with a swirl of emotion on his face, something heady and warm, appreciative and awe-struck, a little bit adoring at the frazzled aura surrounding you.

Abject disbelief a month later when Toji told you about things that went bump in the night and about a school that was a lot more than it seemed. You couldn’t quite wrap your head around the concept, but Toji answered any question you had, even if apprehension made him want to grab onto you and never let you go. Somehow, for some reason, you accepted it well enough with the promise that you didn’t talk about it unless absolutely necessary. Toji assured you, with a grin that was confident and proud, that he was there to ensure nothing ever happened to you.

Love-sick even though it might have been too soon when Toji wrapped a large hand around your wrist after you said your goodbyes to him underneath the golden glow of his porch light. Megumi was already in bed, tired from a day spent out playing in fresh February snow, and when Toji tipped your head back to kiss you, the size of him became so apparent up close that it had butterflies erupting in your stomach. His hand could span your cheek while his fingers threaded into your hair. He bowed over you when his other hand pressed into your back to arch you into him, then his arm followed to encircle your waist in a grip that was ironclad. Toji chased after you when you pulled away to take in a gulp of air, and you knew right then that refusing him was never something you’d be very good at.

When the days were still cold and Megumi could only tolerate being outside so long before the tip of his nose froze pink, most of your time together was spent cuddled on one of your couches as an endless list of movies played on the TV. Sometimes Toji would be situated in the middle with Megumi splayed across his lap and you tucked under his arm, a blanket thrown across all of you. Other times, your feet would lay on Toji’s thighs while Megumi sat back against your chest. On nights Toji would fall asleep mid-movie and his snores would be too loud to continue, you and Megumi would find yourselves in the kitchen waiting for hot chocolate to bubble on the stove while you listened to him chatter animatedly about whatever happened at school the previous day. When the hot chocolate finally cooled enough to sip on without scalding your tongues, Toji would shuffle his way into the kitchen. Megumi would be perched atop the island, legs kicking happily, and you would be leaning up against. Toji’s eyes would still be bleary with sleep, but you’d offer him your mug and he’d drop a kiss to your hair and let his hand grip at your waist.

When the weather began to warm enough in the late spring, many an evening the three of you would sit on a blanket in the grass of a nearby park. Megumi would throw a ball or fly a kite, and you would recline in between Toji’s bent legs with a book in hand. On more than one occasion he’d stop you as you began to turn a page, and you realized that he’d been reading along from where his chin was perched on your shoulder.

“You read too quickly,” Toji huffed, and he lifted his hand so he could flick back the page with his thumb. You angled your head back to glance at him and he used the opportunity to place a kiss on your temple.

“I wasn’t aware you were following along.”

“Yeah, well, I wanted to see what about it kept hogging all your attention.” Toji’s fingers danced up and down your rib cage and you shrunk back into his chest to try and flee from the tickling sensation. “Turns out it’s just some sappy romance,” he complained.

When you recovered from laughter that pained your sides, you settled upright and brushed the hair from your face. “I’ll have you know it should get quite interesting in the next couple chapters.” You kept your voice innocently flirtatious, but Toji caught the insinuation nonetheless, and you could feel the deep hum in his chest against your back.

As it turned out, sex was hard to come by when there was a six year old running around the house, careers to be worked for the both of you, and limited time for just the two of you. There had been nothing more for the two of you than stolen kisses around a hallway corner when Megumi was eating lunch in Toji’s kitchen and lingering looks promising something more when given the chance.

Toji must have finally had enough just a couple weeks later when he had called to inform you on a Friday afternoon that Megumi would be gone at Yuji’s for a couple of hours. You were just leaving work and had promised to be over in the shortest time you could manage, but it still felt like an eternity by the time you had stopped by your house to freshen up and change before knocking on his door. Not a second passed before he was wrenching it open and tugging you inside with a grin that was downright wicked.

As soon as the door to his bedroom slammed shut, Toji peeled your shirt off while kissing down your neck as you fumbled with the button of his jeans. You snuck your fingers up under his shirt to run them over the muscles of his lower abdomen, and when he shivered in response you felt pride well up under your skin, but that faded quickly when Toji cupped you under your thighs to lift you and spread them around his hips. When he turned and fell back against the bed, you laughed as you caught yourself on his chest, and the smile that stretched his cheeks and the brightness of his eyes had him looking boyish, and the sight of him below you had you tearing the rest of your clothes away in a hurry.

Toji was impressive in every aspect of himself as you would now know, but you didn’t have the opportunity to dwell on the matter when his hands were on your breasts and his lips sucked a mark just below your collarbone. He made space for himself between your legs and kissed you softly when the size of him knocked your breath away. He remained patiently still until you rolled your hips up against his and tore a moan from both your throats, and he didn’t let you know a moment’s peace until his name rang from your mouth at least three times.

The sun was almost set when Toji’s phone pinged with a text from Yuji’s dad that they were on their way to drop Megumi off. He groaned in exhaustion from where his head rested on your stomach, and you could tell he was reluctant to pull away from how your fingers scratched at his head. With no time to waste, you managed to claw yourself out from under him to slip back into your clothes even though you had to bat away his wandering hands every other minute. Toji was quite proud of himself when he managed to steal away another couple minutes of kissing you senseless. Luckily, he had just finished pulling on his shirt as the two of you made it to the living room as the doorbell rang.

You watched with an amused smile as Megumi staggered inside with his backpack falling off one shoulder. The poor kid was clearly worn out from a day playing out in the sun, so much so that he could only give you a half-hearted wave as Toji directed him towards his room to get ready for bed.

When Toji came back from tucking in Megumi, you didn’t get up to gather your things and say your goodbyes. Instead, Toji leaned over the back of the couch to kiss you and whisper something in your ear that had you flushing hot from head to toe, and you didn’t resist when he led you back to his bedroom so that the two of you could indulge in one another all over again, albeit much quieter that time around.

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

You woke the next morning with a quick inhalation of air through your nose, your body still attuned to the internal clock of the work week. Even though it was Saturday and the sky had just begun to blush pink, your mind urged you out of restfulness. You stretched the languidness from your muscles and took note of all the places where soreness twinged, and in favor of chasing the last remnants of blissful sleep, you rolled from your side onto your stomach and buried your face into the plushness of the pillow below.

A puff of pine scented shampoo wafted into your nose and you blinked the rest of the room into awareness. You were not in your bed; you weren’t even in your own home, and the unfamiliar sounds around you came into focus. A fan thrummed faintly, a breeze rushed past the windows and drowned out any early noise from the street, and Toji snored softly to your right. His charcoal colored sheets were tangled up under his arms, and you recalled having to fight him for them in the middle of the night when you woke up shivering only to find out that he had a penchant for hogging the blankets. Toji hadn’t even budged at your attempts to yank them out from under him, and you eventually gave up in favor of snuggling in as close to him as you could. Thankfully, your skin sliding against his roused him enough to lift an arm for you to tuck yourself under, and you sighed at the warmth of him, your insides going soft when he curled his arm around your back so his hand could engulf your hip. You fell back asleep almost immediately after.

At some point in the night you had drifted away from him, and now, as you were able to watch the steady rise and fall of his chest and noticed how his fingers twitched occasionally, you knew that every night you’d spend in your own bed alone would feel empty and unfulfilling. While staying overnight hadn’t been unplanned—Toji had insisted—what happened in the morning hadn’t been discussed, and you became acutely aware of the fact that there was a little boy sleeping a couple rooms down who would, most likely, be waking with the rising sun, and you had no clue as to how his father wanted to proceed.

You sat up slowly, keeping the sheet clutched over your chest, and you scanned the floor of Toji’s bedroom to locate all articles of your clothing that you had shed the previous night. You had no intention of sneaking out, not when that alone would be detrimental to the newly cemented relationship, but you would feel more prepared for the conversation upcoming if it wasn’t done in the nude. With a swing of your legs, you made a move to push yourself off the bed, but a rustle of sheets behind you, followed by the feel of Toji’s hand skimming up your arm made you pause.

“You leaving?” His voice was still roughened with sleep, and when you looked back over your shoulder at him, he was using his other hand to rub at his eyes.

“No,” you said simply, “not yet. Just getting dressed.”

Toji’s fingers tightened around the top of your arm and he tugged gently. You didn’t hesitate to follow and fall back into him. He curled you into his chest and you shivered in delight when the fingers of the arm you rested your head on found their way into your hair while his left hand reached across his body to squeeze at your waist. A pleasant sigh lifted and lowered Toji’s chest when you skimmed your fingers across it, and you had the briefest curiosity for finding out if he was as eager for you this morning as he had been last night. When he suddenly rolled on top of you and you parted your legs to make room for him, the answer became evident, because yes, he certainly was. Toji’s nose found itself in your neck as lips nuzzled into your skin, and the deep inhale he took of you made you ache. All of him was distracting, enticing in every way, and the feel of the muscles in his back shifting under your fingertips nearly had you forgetting any rational thought aside from having him again. But when the yellowing sunlight began to filter in through the window as his hands pushed up your thighs, mindfulness took the place of lust and you cleared your throat pointedly.

“I hate to interrupt,” you whispered, and Toji paused in his pursuit of being inside of you, “but it’s almost daylight, and Megumi…” you trailed off, unsure of what to say—how to broach such a subject—and Toji made a low noise of disappointment in your ear before letting go of your legs. He lifted his head to look at you, and wiggled out from under him to sit up. You brought your knees to your chest and fiddled with the sheet around your ankles while Toji fell onto his back with a huff next to your side. The pout on his lips amused you.

“I wasn’t sure if you were ready for him to see me with you this early in the morning, especially in yesterday’s clothes.” Toji sighed and lifted his hands to rest them under his head, and you could tell indecision warred in his mind. “I’m not against slipping out and going back home. I’d understand,” you offered to him.

“That feels kinda wrong though,” he said, and the inside of his cheek caved as he bit down on it. He removed one hand from behind his head to trail his fingers down your spine and you shrugged lightly.

“It’s alright. We can talk with him later.” Toji finally nodded and blew a breath of air out of the corner of his mouth before sitting up to press a kiss to your lips. His eyes were bright when you pulled away.

“Want to come back after a while and take the kid to breakfast?” he asked. A grin took over your face and you bit down on your lip as you nodded.

“That sounds like a good idea. I’ll head back and you can let me know once he’s up.” You narrowed your eyes at Toji in feigned annoyance. “I need a little bit to clean up , anyway.” He smirked, clearly proud of himself and not at all ashamed, and you squeaked out a noise of surprise when he launched himself at you.

An hour and a half later found you back at the Fushiguro residence, freshly showered and dressed for a morning out. You didn’t bother knocking, and you had just opened your mouth to announce your presence when you heard bickering from down the hall.

“It doesn’t matter what shade of blue your shirt is, Megs.” Exasperation was barely hidden in Toji’s voice. “Just put this one on so we can go.”

“It does too,” Megumi argued, and you could clearly imagine the way Toji and his son mirrored each other's stances, arms crossed and lips twisted in a scowl as they stood adamant against the other. You giggled to yourself as you made your way down the hallway.

“Put this one on, Megumi. I gave you a choice, but now I’m choosing. This one matches your pants just fine.”

“Nuh uh. I don’t like it.”

Toji sputtered. “But you told me to grab them!”

You popped your head into Megumi’s room and rapped your knuckles against the door to get their attention. “Trouble getting ready?”

Megumi spun to face you, and Toji turned to you with a heavy sigh of relief. Stress twitched a muscle in his cheek, and you took notice of the repeated clenching of his fist. Nothing else about his appearance though could betray his anger or frustration, and you knew the amount of self control and effort it took for him to patiently parent his son. When his eyes turned helpless, you crouched down in front of Megumi.

“Not sure which shirt to wear?” you asked, and the little boy nodded shyly. You hummed in understanding and reached out to take one of the shirts that Toji held in his hand. You brought it close to you and held it up against the fabric of your dress, something light and casual for the morning, and lowered your head to peer into Megumi’s eyes.

“How about this one,” you offered, “I think it’s nice, and it nearly matches the color of my dress. Wouldn’t that be fun?” Megumi’s expression lit up and he held his hands out eagerly for the shirt of choice. After passing it to him you stood, smiling softly at Toji as he mouthed a ‘thank you’ and then backed out of the room. “I’ll wait for you guys out here.”

Just as you made it halfway back down the hall, you heard Megumi sigh in a way that sounded years older than he was.

“Your choice was ugly anyway, Dad.”

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Y'all, I swear I reread my fics to proof and edit them, but surely I'll find a mistake every run through, so please forgive me for any that I didn't catch.

Thank you for reading if you do<3

#toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji x you #toji fushiguro x you #toji fushiguro x reader #jujustu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk #jjk x you #jjk x reader

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faeriekit · 2 days

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For @kingcrow01 and everyone else because I forgot to port this back over from ao3: what the hell is going on with Cass's gender in Quiet Respite, specifically?

1) I know that DC plays fast and loose with medical facts but the truth of the matter is that growing up without a language of any sort fucks your brain up forever. Like. I'm pretty sure you might not even live to old age, if I remember my child development class correctly— humans need some level of linguistic processing even just to FORM MEMORIES. Your brain relies on language like a structural support in a building. People handwave Cass's childhood with a "oh, Cass learned body language" sort of thing but that is NOT the same as actual linguistic processing. Hence why it's so hard for her (especially in this fic) to speak and communicate even with a speech therapist and a bunch of time dedicated to learning English and about the world around her: genuinely, kids who grow up without hearing or speaking human language widely suffer developmental delays for the rest of their lives. (This part of the reason why sign language is so important for deaf kids and why talk boards and AAC devices are so important in nonverbal kids n adults btw; Communication deprivation is REALLY BAD.)

2) Gender is fake. Have we all looked each other in the eye and figured that out? Good? Okay. Gender is sociological and varies and adjusts to whatever culture you're in at the time and is a social role we've all pretended to obey in order to facilitate other, more complicated social roles for long-term convenience. We got it? Good? Far out.

3) Social roles are WAY harder to understand and conform to if you're neurodivergent in any way. No joke, one of the theories around why autistic people are more highly represented in trans spaces is that gender is just another social role that makes no fucking sense. Why are we jumping through hoops for pretend facts about people?? Hello?? Anyway, I call this the Neurodivergent loophole. Cass didn't grow up with any living culture or IDing as any particular gender, even though she probably knew she didn't have a penis at the very least. She had no reliable adults to model herself off of and was only exposed to a living, breathing society as a preteen. Gender is something that's purely sociological. I will bet you every buck in my wallet that she isn't particularly attached to the idea of womanhood in any way that doesn't involve doing a good job as Batgirl so that Barbara likes her. She has Bruce-assigned pronouns and is aware of what her own body looks like, and everything else is just icing.

However, I also think that Cass is exactly like Bruce insofar that most things about herself can be presented in a way to get her into better places. If Cass is going to date someone, she is going to be The Boyfriend, and be the support that the title implies. Cass is willing to also let Peter be The Boyfriend, but she is the ass-kicking boyfriend and he is the breadwinning and emotional support boyfriend. This all works. Peter, who does not care (affectionate), is willing to see this through as far as Cass is willing to take it, because it's not like his opinion will change anything and her thought process is kind of fascinating tbh.

Anyway, they're bi4bi. Happy Pride! 🏳‍🌈

#dcu crossover #quiet respite #Peter/Cass

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olderthannetfic · 4 hours

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You probably already got an ask about this but twitter antis are hating on omegaverse at the moment cause it's (paraphrased) "misogyny but gay". And there's also those asking why the characters can't just get abortion and accusing omegaverse fans of being anti-abortion. Like, mpreg is one of the main points of a/b/o? Plus I've seen fics that actually had the characters abort the baby so it's not like it hasn't been thought about, people just want their gay ships to have babies. It's not that serious lol.

Anyways, I just found out through all this omegaverse talk that there exist something called "cakeverse" which is based on omegaverse except it involves cannibalism. It's apparently more popular in the Japanese and Korean side of fandoms. This is at least something entertaining to get from this discourse.

I mostly read omegaverse for the world building around three genders and for role reversal stuff, no pregnancy. They clearly have no idea what's out there.

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 21 hours

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Here’s a crossover fic idea, Pokémon reader gets sent to stardew valley by Arceus for some strange reason, causing them to take a job as a farmer with their Pokémon. However, the reader has to hide their Pokémon from the townsfolk since they don’t know how they would react to their pocket monsters. Though eventually certain townsfolk (the male bachelors and Krobus to be exact) will eventually learn the truth depending on how close they are to the reader. The reader’s Pokemon team consists of Herdier, Gogoat, Mudsdale, Vespiquen, Blaziken and Oinkolonge (the female form).

"Does thou understand thy task?"

"I-I still don't know why I'm even doing this. What's my purpose in coming here? Pokémon don't even exist-"

"Once more I shall reiterate: Achieve Perfection, and come to the Summit. You will find me waiting."

"I..don't know what "perfection" even is! Why did you send me to this place?! Why did you choose-"

The sound of a rooster's loud caw made your eyes snap open, realizing that you were having yet another bizarre dream.

You sighed, waking up and rubbing your eyes, before checking the time.

6:00 AM.

"Oh well..time to make breakfast and get to work." You muttered to yourself, stretching out your limbs before getting out of bed and starting the day.

No time to muddle over your dream.

But you knew for certain that your encounter with the mythical Arceus--the God of all Pokémon itself--was no dream the first time around, as it decided to send you to this strange new land..

A land called Stardew Valley.

You didn't think there was any special reason it chose you. You've just finished schooling in Paldea and had plans to travel the world with your Pokémon. Although apparently god itself decided to fling you into an entirely different world..not one where Ultra Beasts nor Giratina existed.

But rather a world where you quickly realized Pokémon didn't even exist.

It was just you and your team: Herdier, Gogoat, Mudsdale, Vespiquen, Oinkolonge, and Blazkien--your start who's been by your side since your Pokémon journey began back in Hoenn.

You were thankful Arceus sent them along with you, or else you probably would've lost your mind at this point..

The moment you were dropped down into a dilapidated farmland, you quickly realized that you had to make a new home for yourself here...and as you've gotten acquainted with the locals in the nearby town, you also learned how to make some good profits.

Farming wasn't something you expected to do in your journey, but what other option did you have?

Besides, your team adjusted rather well to the roles you've assigned them: such as Oinkolonge sniffing out truffles, Vespiquen and Gogoat ensuring your crops were growing well, Herdier digging up bones and artifacts for you to sell, donate, or gift, Mudsdale helping you get around town on horseback, and Blaziken aiding you with the physical labor and being your bodyguard in the mines.

When you've heard rumors of monsters dwelling there, you assumed Pokémon and became eager to catch some....only to discover that they weren't even Pokémon at all--but rather hostile creatures that had no types or weaknesses you could exploit.

Your Pokedex and pokeballs were basically null and void.

So again, you had to adapt. This time you needed to sharpen up your combat skills, even though Blaziken was able to take them down pretty easily without you ever lifting your sword.

That was one problem taken care of.

The other...involved the villagers who don't know what a "poke-man" is, the majority thinking you were insane for going to the mines. You've become close friends with a lot of the guys over the past year or so, and while they've seen you, Mudsdale, and Herdier together, you never told them you were a Pokémon trainer.

For all they knew, you were just someone from Zuzu City who owned a "unique" dog and horse. They didn't know you came from a world entirely different from theirs.

They were wary of anything new--including yourself--and were especially terrified of the monsters, hearing nothing but rumors and horrible things happening to people in the mines.

What would they think if they discovered you owned "monsters" of your own who had special powers? You had no idea if they'd be scared of you..and everything you've done to build up friendships with them would come crashing down.

But a few hours later, while you and your companions were preoccupied with their outdoor tasks, you failed to notice one of the guys was approaching the farmland.

And you had little time to react to their presence before they spotted one of your Pokémon...

.......

Alex

He just wanted to see if you're up for playing gridball, and instead stumbles upon your Blaziken breaking apart a large stone with their kicks.

It was the most efficient way you could help them train, while at the same time gathering resources to store for later.

"Woah..what the heck are you?!"

Alex's shout scares you, and you throw down your watering can in a panic, running over to explain-

"Hey, hey..no need to freak out." He laughs. "Is this one of those "Pokémon" you were talking about? Why does it look like an oversized chicken?"

"Ziken?"

His face pales. "Did...it just talk to me??"

Seeing no other way to hide this, you eventually tell him more about Pokémon, trying your best to explain the concept of evolution to the jock.

At first it just...flies over his head, but once you draw it out for him, he gets the gist of it.

"So you're saying that..Blaziken started out as this weak and small Torchic, but got stronger through rigorous training?"

"Yep, pretty much."

"Hey, that sounds like me! I used to be a scrawny little kid, too, but look at me now! On the road to going pro!" Alex smiles at your starter. "Looks like you already achieved that yourself. Awesome job." He gives them a fist-bump, and is thrilled when they understand the gesture.

Learning how strong their kicks are inspires him to work on his own leg routine (which he admits to neglecting).

He absolutely wants to invite Blaziken to play gridball with him....as long as they don't get too excited and accidentally scorch the ball with their flames.

If you ever bring Herdier over to his grandparents', them and Dusty will become best buds real fast.

Sam

He randomly decided to stop by your farm to give you a gift--as a way of thanking you for helping him write a new song.

But at first, he doesn't notice anything wrong with your Oinkolonge playing with a truffle crab she dug up.

Until he sees you, pauses, looks back at her, and says "wait do pigs normally look like that?"

Shit.

You thought he wouldn't notice since his head was in the clouds 99% of the time.....but right now it wasn't.

And ofc she's kinda tired to hiding all the time and walks right up to him.

Sam isn't sure where that floral scent came from, although after it began making him sneeze, you had to politely recall Oinkolonge and apologize.

He just looks so bewildered, and stares at your other Pokemon...yet he didn't freak out like you expected.

Maybe Oinkolonge's ability still made him calm, so you took this moment to explain your team to him, reassuring him they're harmless.

"What? Scared? Nah, I was just...they remind me of this one game Vincent started playing."

"Oh? And what's that?"

"Junimon. You basically collect these Junimos with different powers and fight other monsters, with some attacks being more effective than others! It's pretty rad."

"....that's literally how it is where I come from. But it's no video game. We coexist with them."

Sam's mind=blown.

He wants to tell Sebastian and Abigail about your Pokémon so SO badly...but your Vespiquen physically blocks him from running/skating away from your farm until he promises you he won't say a word.

He made sure to write it down, of course.

It's something he 100% doesn't wanna forget.

Shane

He overheard that Marnie recently sold you a blue baby chicken, and he wanted to come over and see how the little guy was doing in your coop.

However, upon arrival he stumbles across your chickens being surrounded by Blaziken, the blue one standing on their shoulder.

"Farmer where the fuck did you get a chicken like that?"

"Holy SHIT Shane I didn't know you were there!" You sprint over, seeing the wide-eyed look on his face.

"Please tell me I'm not hallucinating. I haven't even had a drink yet but-"

Before he could start going on a rant and/or leave, you encourage him to stay so you can explain everything about Blaziken and your Pokémon team.

Like Alex, he's not gonna understand a whole lot about it, but he gets the gist of it.

You debate on telling him that Pokémon eggs just "spawn" and walking is the only way to hatch them. No incubators needed.

He has some questions, obviously, but not the ones you expected.

"So Blaziken..just combines "blaze" and "chicken" together?"

"Uh yep. Pretty much."

"....are there other chicken-based Pokémon where you come from?"

Whenever he visits the farm thereon, he'd always check up on Blaziken and the chickens, impressed at how many they were able to raise.

During the winter, they're a personal heater for the babies--although sometimes Shane worries about them accidentally burning the barns/coops down.

He also might forget that your starter isn't 100% chicken, and the one time he tried feeding them hay instead of berries....they weren't impressed.

Your secret stays safe with him, even when he goes to drink.

Elliot

He's definitely written some short stories and poems about the monsters in the mines/skull caverns you talked about, even creating new characters inspired by them!

Oftentimes he silently envies the thrilling adventures you've had and wonders if his life will ever become that exciting (without all the danger and peril of mining, ofc)

While hanging at the saloon, you maaaaaay have let it slip that you owned Pokémon, but you don't remember how much you shared.

Fortunately, it didn't negatively affect your friendship with Elliot, as he comes to your farm to see these creatures for himself.

"Oh my...!"

The first one he meets is Vespiquen, and you SPRINT over to him in a panic, clothes dirty and your face sweaty.

"Elliot! Don't scream! She's just a..uh...ah....a-a really big bee-!"

"Farmer, why would I ever scream in the presence of royalty?"

"..huh...?"

You stand there, utterly dumbfounded as the writer greets your fearsome bug type, treating her like a princess and admiring her growing collecting of honey and flower garden.

Vespiquen, being the haughty and prideful lass she is, eats up his praise...and continues to every time he's visited your farm since.

Okay, so you might've told him too much about your Pokémon team, but you're grateful he didn't get too scared.

Or think you were crazy.

But it's gonna be a bit of a problem when you need Vespiquen to focus on her tasks.

Even if you're visiting his beach house or hanging out in the library together, you could feel her pokeball shaking within your bag, eager to be let out.

Elliot joked that she was simply "buzzing" with excitement, and you just groaned.

Krobus

The shadow monster always dreamed of the day humans and monsters could live in harmony, but fears that it'll only stay that way: as a mere dream.

Well...one winter night that changes when he visits your farm under the cover of darkness, and Blaziken instinctively comes out to protect your land.

The familiar screech of a Shadow Brute has you rushing out the door, sword drawn, only to instantly recognize Krobus--who was about to get Fire Punched into oblivion.

"Blaziken, stop! That's my friend!"

"...blaze?" They stare at you, still holding the poor little monster in their grasp.

"Please, trust me. Don't hurt him."

Krobus is bewildered and scared..yet amazed at the same time.

This human has tamed a monster and can speak to it??? Not to mention you have several of them once he visits your coop and barn.

After you've explained the concept of Pokémon, he grows to understand them better, and forgives Blaziken for attacking him.

Obviously you didn't wanna tell him you used them to fight his "friends" down in the mines.

Initially, he was horrified by the idea of pokeballs being used to "imprison" them, despite you reassuring him that they roam freely almost 24/7.

Although when you're down in the sewers one day, he proposes a rather humorous question.

"Is the inside of a pokeball comfortable for them?"

"It is. It's well-insulated but..wait, don't tell me..." You see the look on his face, the way his eyes went to the pokeballs on your belt. "Did you wanna try going inside one? Thought you despised the idea."

"I did, but..if they help your monsters get around town discreetly, maybe..they could help me. The crocus are blooming nicely this winter, and I've been wanting to pick them myself."

"Sorry Krobus, but they don't work."

"Why not?"

"...because you're not a Pokémon. It'll just bounce right off of you."

"But I am a monster, though???"

"That's...not really how it works-"

"Didn't you say they were discovering new ones all the time in your world?"

Eventually, you entertain the idea of catching Krobus--and he's disappointed when you're correct, as the pokeball bounces off his antenna and almost rolls into the sewer waters.

You get a good laugh out of it, and as embarrassed as he is..it was worth a try.

Sebastian

Another day, another argument with his family...another reason to get out of that house and be as far away from the mountains as possible.

There's no better place for Sebastian to retreat to than your farm.

You two have become close friends at this point, even though you have yet to actually tell him about your Pokémon.

While playing Solarian Chronicles with him, Sam, and Abigail, you'd play the role of a summoner (which was the closest thing to "trainer"), with some of your creatures being inspired by your main team.

Ngl Seb was impressed by your character sheet.

When he decides to come over one random day after that fight in his house, Gogoat is tilling the soil with their hooves--and you're too occupied planting seeds until he says something.

"Woah..I've never seen that kind of goat before."

You jump, rushing over to explain everything....only to see that he doesn't look freaked out by any means. Nor did he seem upset that you kept this a secret.

Then again, he regularly visited the mines and thinks the Skeletons are badass, so you weren't sure why you were freaking out.

In the end, he just has genuine questions about your Pokémon, and you answer them honestly.

In your pokedex, you show him some of the frog-based ones. And he immediately likes Politoed.

You introduce him to Blaziken, who tries gifting him a frozen tear you had stored in a chest, only to pout as it melts and evaporates instantly.

It makes Sebastian laugh a little--and you did a double take bc you've never heard this man laugh before in your life (and you don't deny that it made your heart skip a beat).

"I appreciate the gesture, Blaziken..thanks." He smiles, already feeling better.

As an apology, your starter lights his cigarette with a small flame, and he's stunned.

"Wow..what can't you do?"

Harvey

Like any good town doctor, he just wanted to visit your farm to give you a checkup, knowing how hard you must work to keep things running smoothly.

At your last appointment, you mentioned having "helpers", and he was certain that meant the animals you purchased from Marnie's ranch...

Not "animals" that don't look anything like animals he's seen in the valley or in Zuzu City.

He almost screams at the sight of Vespiquen staring menacingly at him while she's guarding the beehouses, and you rush out of your house before the poor bachelor faints.

"Calm down, Harvey! She's..uh..t-totally harmless!"

"..hh..harmless..? She--it...wh-what exactly is she, [y/n]? What am I looking at right now???" He looks to you with the widest and most terrified eyes, begging for an explanation. "Is she some monster from the mines??"

Try as you might to explain your Pokémon to him (even as you calmly introduce him to the rest of your team), that first impression left his nerves shot for the longest time.

No matter where he goes, Harvey couldn't stop wondering why you owned such bizarre creatures--and even at work, Maru begins to see that he seems extra nervous when around you.

But she assumes he has a crush on you, which is partially true.

As time goes on, though, he starts to understand your team better and acknowledges that despite their looks, they are kind, reliable, and protective partners.

He won't reveal your secret unless you're ready to. But he's impressed you've managed to keep them underwraps for so long.

When he learns Vespiquen's Heal Order is the reason you return from the mines/skull caverns with nary a scratch, he apologizes to her personally for screaming.

As long as you don't tell him you were sent to this world by the Pokémon equivalent of Yoba, you're golden.

#ough hope this format is okay!#i wanted to include all the bachelors + krobus' reactions #clanask #anonymous #pokemon x reader #sdv x reader #stardew valley x reader #sdv alex #sdv shane #sdv harvey #sdv sam #sdv sebastian #sdv elliot #sdv krobus #headcanons

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justagalwhowrites · 3 days

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Hi Kit 💜 Im most of the way through a Lavender re-read. They're on the road and Joel’s feelings for Ellie are surfacing. It got me thinking… how would he have reacted arriving to the QZ to find out he had a 5 year old? 💔

Hi Bestie!!

AHHHH A REREAD? OF MY LIL FIC??? Dying 😭 That anyone read it at all let alone wants to re-read it just blows my freaking mind.

OK ON TO YOUR QUESTION!

I'd intended to write a lil fic of this at some point but the more I thought about it the more involved it got and, honestly, I don't want to dedicate that much time to that particular AU. But, because I've thought on it so much, here's some of what I see playing out. It's tucked below the cut (including a Drabble) because it's just so long and there's a scene as well as some bullet points for how I see things going for a while.

I hope you like it!

The Best of Us - Lavender AU

A/N: No real warnings, this is a Drabble. Lil baby Joel and Doc snack for you.

October 6, 2008

You couldn’t put it off any longer.

You’d shown Joel and Tommy around the whole of the QZ and you’d tried to give Joel space while you did it. You weren’t sure where you really stood with him, what he would want from you. But he’d kept your fingers clutched tight in his grip the whole day, so often pulling you closer so your bodies were aligned and you could feel him beside you, still tall and broad and strong. He was still so substantial, still so… Joel. Still the man you loved more than almost anything else, still the man you’d planned to spend your life with once, still the man who had left you when you begged him to stay. Still the father of your child, something you were still afraid to tell him.

He was still Joel and, while it felt like he was desperately keeping you close all day, you couldn’t be sure what that meant. It seemed like Joel and Tommy had been on their own for a while. You’d clung to Andrew, too, because he felt safe. You weren’t sure that Joel would want anything to do with you once he got settled in here. He hadn’t wanted anything to do with you before.

And all that was before the Evie of it all. You hadn’t mentioned your daughter to him. He’d had no idea you were pregnant when the world ended and you had no idea how to bring it up now. Not that you hadn’t thought about it over the years but, for some reason, you’d thought you’d have some notice. You didn’t expect them to just turn up in Boston. You’d expected them to show up in Dallas or Atlanta and you’d hear about it on the radio, coordinate a time to talk to them and see how they were and if they’d even be willing to come to Boston at all. If they weren’t, you weren’t sure you’d even tell Joel about Evie. It seemed like an unnecessary risk because you knew - knew - as soon as you told Joel she existed, he would do everything he could to reach her. She was a child he didn’t plan for, one he didn’t want with you, but one he would do anything for all the same. You would see if they wanted to come to Boston and, if they did, plan to meet them and talk to her in advance so she knew what was going on.

This had been so sudden. You’d told Evie precious little about her father. She’d asked about him, of course, when she learned that fathers were something children had but she didn’t. You explained that he was far away and that she may never get to meet him but that you knew he loved her very, very much. Because you knew that, if Joel was aware of her, he’d love her with everything he had. That’s who he was. You’d told her how much you loved her father and her big sister, that her father loved to play music and you found some of his favorite CDs at the black market so she could know his favorite songs, that her father used to build things. She didn’t know that he was here. You didn’t know how she would handle that and you didn’t have time to get her ready.

All you could do now was hope that it went OK for both their sakes.

“So,” you smiled a little, stopping in front of the apartment you’d helped secure for Joel and Tommy. “This is your place. I’m happy to help you get settled but there should be furniture and some of the basics inside, just whatever was left from people who were there before. FEDRA does a pretty good job of keeping the looting to a minimum in places they’re looking to house people and they check things over before someone moves in.”

Joel’s grip on you tightened and you took a deep breath, stomach in knots.

“I was hoping, though, that I might be able to steal Joel for a bit?” You looked between the two men. “Not that it hasn’t been great to see you, Tommy, and I’m so happy you’re here but…”

“Nah, Kid, I get it,” he gave you one of his signature crooked smiles before clapping Joel on the shoulder. “You two have fun.”

He got the key out of his pocket and headed up the stairs to his building, and you watched until he went inside. You turned to face Joel and found that he was staring at you, his deep brown eyes tracing over your face again and again.

“If it’s OK with you,” you said, looking at him. “I’d like to take you to my place? It’s not far and there’s… there’s someone I’d like you to meet.”

“Sure, yeah,” he said, lifting the hand that wasn’t holding yours but then seemingly thinking better of what he was going to do with it. “Whatever you want, that… We can do whatever you want.”

You smiled tightly and led the way, clinging to his hand. Who knows if he’d want to keep holding it once he found out about Evie so you were going to touch him while you still could.

“I’m up there,” you said, stopping at the base of the stairs up to your floor. “You… you should know that I don’t expect anything from you.” He looked confused but you pressed on. “It’s whatever you want to do, OK?”

“Alright,” he said, brows knitted together. “Don’t much know what you’re talkin’ about but…”

“It’ll make sense in a minute,” you said. “Just… Know that you don’t have to do anything.”

You led the way up the stairs and dropped his hand before taking a deep breath and unlocking your front door.

“…that’s against the rules though,” Andrew was saying as you came inside. He was sitting on the floor by your coffee table, a cracked version of Hungry Hungry Hippos sitting on the gouged wood and your daughter kneeling on a pillow across from him, her back to the door. Her dark curls hung to her hips and Andrew must have tied a ribbon in her half ponytail that morning that was now was hanging on for dear life. “You can’t just pick up the marbles, kiddo, that’s cheating.”

“But they weren’t coming to my side!” She whined. “It’s not fair!”

“Too bad for you,” he said, meeting your eyes and smiling a little before nodding in your direction. “Look who’s home!”

She turned so fast that her hair twirled behind her, her eyes - warm and brown and deep, so like her father’s - wide and excited.

“Mama!” She shot up from the table and rocketed for you and you caught her out of the air, picking her up and popping her on your hip. Her arms went around your neck and she buried herself in your shoulder for a moment before pulling back to look at you, a stern look on her small face. “Mama, you didn’t take me to school today, I missed you!”

“I missed you too, baby girl,” you said, tugging her closer so you could kiss her cheek. “But I had something very important to do this morning and you like when Uncle Andrew walks you to school.”

“I like when Uncle Andrew walks me AND you to school,” she corrected you. “It’s best when it’s both.”

“I agree, it is best when it’s both,” you smiled a little and nuzzled into her, breathing in the sweet smell of her hair and skin. “But there’s someone I want you to meet. Evie, this is… this is my friend, his name is Joel. Joel, this… this is Evie. Short for Evelyn.”

You looked away from your daughter, still holding her on your hip as you turned to fully face Joel. He was staring at her, his mouth slightly open, his eyes wet.

“Evelyn?” He asked softly, still watching her.

“Evelyn,” you said, taking a deep breath. “Evelyn Miller.”

“Hi!” She said brightly, starting to squirm in your hold. You set her down and she went to Joel, tilting her head all the way back to look up at him. “My mom doesn’t usually bring friends home, why haven’t I met you before?”

“He just got here,” you said, coming up behind her and resting your hands on her small shoulders, watching as Joel took her in. His eyes lingered on her eyes and lips and hair. You knew he was finding all the parts of him that existed in her - she had so much of him in her - and that he was coming to grips with it all. “He was outside for a long time.”

“Outside?” Her nose crinkled and she looked over to you. “But you said it’s dangerous out there.”

“It is,” you said. “That’s why he came here. I knew him a long time ago, before you were born.”

“Oh,” she said, turning back to Joel. “So did you come here to find my mom? Where did you come here from? Why didn’t you get here sooner? What…”

“Why don’t we give Joel a minute,” Andrew said, coming over and taking her little hand. “It’s almost bedtime, yeah? Think there’s a little girl here who needs to start thinking about pajamas…”

“But!”

“Just getting changed,” he said. “Then you can say hi to Mommy’s friend again and you can drive him crazy with all the questions instead of just me, c’mon.”

He scooped her up and mouthed ‘you OK?’ once she couldn’t see. You just nodded and he carried her back to her room. You watched them go before turning to Joel who was just staring at the hall they’d disappeared down.

“I have a fire escape, out the kitchen window,” you said, nodding to it. “It’s pretty private. We can go there and talk.”

“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, OK.”

You opened the window and clambered out of it, Joel following behind you. You took a deep breath, looking up at the moon, giving Joel a second to process everything.

After a moment of silence, he spoke.

“You have a daughter,” he said it so quietly.

You nodded slowly.

“I do,” you said. “She’s four and a half today, she’s very excited about the half. Apparently those six months are vital at this age…”

“She…” he leaned on the creaking metal of the fire escape, his fingers clenched tight on the railing. “She was born… April then?”

“April 6th,” you nodded.

“Which…” he was fumbling for the words.

You helped him out.

“We made her my last trip to Texas,” you said quietly. You leaned back against the railing so you were looking at Joel instead of out to the other side of your apartment complex.

“Jesus,” he breathed, looking back over his shoulder toward your apartment for a moment.

“I know this is…” you took a deep breath. “It’s a lot. She doesn’t know that you’re her father and she doesn’t need to know. I know this wasn’t the plan before let alone now, especially not since…” You couldn’t bring yourself to say Sarah’s name. Especially not when you’d told Evie so much about her big sister through the years. “I don’t expect anything from you, Joel. You don’t need to be anything for either of us and I promise you I will take care of her. She’s my whole world, I’ll do everything I can to take care of her and she’s doing OK. Great, under the circumstances. There’s a preschool that some of the moms set up, she hangs out at the clinic with me in the evenings, Andrew does so much for her… I think she might like him better than me some days. I’ve taken care of her without you her whole life and I can just… I can keep doing that, it’s OK. You don’t need to do anything but I… I don’t know. I wanted you to know that she existed. That she has your hair and your eyes and sometimes she frowns like you which is so funny to me since she didn’t learn that, she couldn’t have, she just knows it…”

“You were pregnant,” he said softly. “During the outbreak, when everything… you were pregnant?”

You nodded, watching him.

“And you… you were alone,” he said. “You did all that… you made it here alone, when you were pregnant.”

“Not alone,” you said. “I found Andrew a few days in…”

“And he was, what, 12?” He asked, voice sharp. You flinched a little.

“He was 18 then,” you said. “But we took care of each other…” You watched Joel, his grip on the railing tightening. “What are you thinking?”

“That I fuckin’ left you to do this on your own,” he snapped. “That I’ve been out there while you were here with our fuckin’ kid! I should have been here this whole time, I should have been there, with you then instead of…”

“Joel,” you said gently, resting your hand in the middle of his back. He was so large next to you, the span of his shoulders so broad. “It’s OK. You didn’t know, it wouldn’t have been any different and she and I… we’re OK. We made it here, she’s got a roof over her head and food to eat and she’s loved, she’s so loved. She’s doing good.”

He was quiet for a moment but he didn’t pull away from you.

“Tell me about her,” he said, his voice pained. “What is she like?”

“She’s very smart,” you smiled. “She reads very well, she started reading on her own about a year ago. She loves games and she’s very invested in things being fair. She loves animals, we look at old National Geographics all the time, she’s obsessed with giraffes at the moment but she’s also completely blown away by the fact that people had pets before. She desperately wishes she could have a dog in the QZ.”

You looked at Joel, until his eyes met yours.

“She’s really the very best of us,” you said quietly. “She’s smart and she’s strong and she’s driven and she cares so deeply. When she loves something she just hangs on so tight, she’s so… She’s doing well and it’s OK if you can’t do this. I know it’s not what you wanted and it’s OK if you can’t or just don’t want to, I don’t expect…”

“I want to be there,” he cut you off. “She’s… she’s my… I need to be there for her. For her and… and for you. If you’ll let me, I don’t want to blow your lives up, baby, but let me be there for you and her, please.”

There was a knot in your throat that you couldn’t speak around so you just nodded quickly, feeling Joel’s eyes on you. His large hand found your face, cupping your cheek as his other arm wrapped around you, his fingers spreading wide over your lower back to cradle you to him.

“Please,” he said again, his eyes searching yours.

You put your arms around his neck and kissed him then, the feel of his lips on yours familiar and comforting, even after so many years. He held you close and tight and, for the first time since before the outbreak, you felt the heat of want flare in your stomach, the drive to feel him as close as possible strong.

“Let’s go find Mama!” Andrew said loudly from inside and you pulled back from Joel, his hands still on you.

“I don’t want to tell her who you are just yet,” you said quietly. “I want to ease her into it without it being too confusing but… want to come inside? Get to know your daughter?”

“Yeah,” he said. “I do.”

You smiled and took his hand, leading him back into your life.

Other moments that stand out to me in this AU

It takes Joel and Doc longer to fully get back together, she's very cautious because Evie is involved. She doesn't want to send her mixed signals or confuse her.

Doc and Andrew lived together for the first two years of Evie's life. Joel very much resents that she had her early childhood years with another man and not him as her father figure.

Andrew was there when Doc gave birth. He held her through it and was one of the first people to ever hold Evie. It was love at first sight for him, she basically became his whole baby in that moment.

Joel and Andrew's relationship is even more tense in this version. Andrew is SO protective of Evie and Joel wants to be the man Evie looks to but that takes time. There is far more direct competition here.

Joel and Doc still split when he finds out the details of the pregnancy (namely that she knew about it well before the outbreak and just didn't tell him.) He still blows up at her and blames her for Sarah's death.

They can't stay apart nearly as long, though, as Joel might leave Doc, he cannot leave his daughter. They have to see each other regularly to play pass the kiddo. This leads to a lot more sex and off/on periods between the two of them over the years.

Doc and Tommy's love affair either a) never happens or b) is VERY short-lived. She's the mother of his niece, the relationship is different even though his feelings are the same.

Tommy is far harder on Joel about Doc in this universe because that's the mother of his whole kid right there. Tommy never had much patience for Joel treating doc poorly to begin with but that patience is even more limited in this reality.

Doc stays fully on the hook for Joel more in this fic because they never really have distance. She never dates Derek because she can't ever move enough past Joel to be with anyone else.

I THINK they'd get back together in this version a lot sooner (I'm thinking post McCarthy? They'd sleep together after and Joel would, at that point, I think understand that this isn't going anywhere in a way he doesn't in the OG version) but it's not easy. Joel is still trauma brain Joel in a state of constant retraumatization. They'd fight a lot. He'd still subconsciously try to distance himself from her. It'd be rough.

He's SO protective of Evie. So so SO protective of her. She pushes back against him a ton in her teens because she desperately wants some for of independence and Joel will not let her have it. She sneaks out a lot. Given what happened to Ellie, it's low key a miracle she's not bitten in the QZ.

I'm not sure Joel would take Ellie in this reality. Since he has someone to live for besides Tommy I don't think he'd be as desperate to go on a suicide mission searching for him. But let's say he does, it would mean either a) also bringing Evie along or b) leaving Evie with Andrew and Jess. It would be ROUGH.

I think they would still have Sylvie in Jackson. I think Doc would have always wanted another baby but neither of them wanted to bring a child into the QZ. Jackson - and the person Joel becomes on the way there - makes that possible. This might be the only version of the story that has both Evie and Sylvie in it.

So yeah! I hope that's some insight into this version of the story.

Thank you for asking, Bestie! Love you!!

#send asks #kit answers #lavender #joel miller x female reader

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esamastation · 1 day

Text

Well

Metagaming started with a plan and then veered WAY off course. Also, a little bit of spite was maybe involved.

Might end up lol. But yeah, the Cast Iron thing was plan from the very start. There was also some video I watched on YouTube, can't remember by who, but it had a mention of concept of mana in Polynesian cultures and how it can be gained through sexual acts, etc, not really important. Still, there was some spite and previous random research influencing the planning process.

*going out his way.

Yeah, so the original plan was for Shen Qingqiu to figure out the sex thing out and also have a lot of it probably, and eventually turning it into mastery, etc etc. It was a fun enough plan. There was going to be a lot of smut. Experienced and confident sqq, hell yeah.

.... And then I actually wrote a bit further and the story turned into something else. Arguably what it ended up becoming as it progressed is probably better - but I still have this other story in my head about Sqq with more confident and comfortable attitude towards his own, healthy, sex life. Alas, no plan survives encounter with the enemy and Sqq's various issues won, and then various issues of Qing Jing Peak started cropping up. That's the risk you take when you go in depth - you find the depths.

Still, the rough shape of the harem survived, if not all the educational and casual sex I was planning for sqq to be having. His character just didn't work with it.

Yeaaah this sort of thing happens to me a lot. I start writing one thing and end up writing another. But that's fine, it was fun exploring mental health care and stuff in xianxia setting and it went interesting directions later on in Character Optimisation. I ended up hanging onto the idea of "Sqq as eventual Master of Dual Cultivation" probably to the story's overall detriment, really should've killed my darling there, but I just couldn't. Hindsight is whatever, that's just what happens sometimes when plans go awry.

I haven't abandoned the fic yet. The last part is going to be called Power Levelling and I have like 10% of the start and 20% of the end roughly planned out but I have no idea what happens in the middle and that's why I haven't yet written a word of it. Still, I hold onto hope. I'll write it one day.

In conclusion, plans change, stories go off the rails and overall it's all going to be okay 👍

#How it was written #Part 2 I guess #I need a tag for these.... In case this becomes a thing

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seventh-district · 9 months

Text

Midnight Hour

With the warm haze of sleep fading from you, your brow furrows as your right hand presses lightly against his lower abdomen, your thumb sweeping up and down in a small attempt at a comforting motion. You quietly call for his attention, voice still thick with sleep.

“Star? Is everything okay?”

You awake in the middle of the night to find your lover in tears.

Pairing: Astarion x Reader

Word Count: 3,139

Content Warnings: [crying (obviously)] [non-specific mentions of Astarion's past trauma] [this fic was written by someone who hasn't actually played the game and that might show in the details/the lack thereof]

Blinking your tired eyes open, you squint at the light of the crackling fire in front of you. Closing them again, you let out a soft sigh as you try to guess at the current time. Given that you woke on your own, you’re assuming it’s likely close to, but not quite, time for you to take over tonight’s watch shift.

Your group has fallen into a routine where you pair off into teams of two, and a different team keeps watch each night. Tonight’s turn belongs to you and Astarion, and he’s taken the first half of the shift as usual. You usually, ironically, sleep your best on the nights that he keeps watch, in spite of only getting half the amount of sleep as you do on the nights another team has the job.

You suppose you can credit the fact that, at the end of the day, Astarion is a creature of the night. Something about knowing he has the upper hand when it comes to any unwanted nighttime visitors your group may encounter is… reassuring. To you, as well as to the others in the group, loathe as some of them may be to admit it. That is, once they all felt confident in his promises to not make a surprise midnight snack of them, at least.

Tonight is a bit of an exception, though, and you’re not quite sure what woke you early this time. You typically sleep soundly until he gently coaxes you awake, nails combing through your hair, voice soft and apologetic in your ear. He’s always somewhat reluctant to wake you, but he does so nonetheless, having learned his lesson after the first time he made the executive decision to let you sleep the whole night through. His arguments of “You really looked like you could use the rest.” and “What’s one sleepless night? I can sleep when I’m dead.” didn’t hold much water in the face of the way he dragged ass through the entire next day.

In “the spirit of fairness” and “proving that he can stick to an agreement,” he never tried to take the whole shift by himself again. It definitely didn’t have anything to do with how guilty he felt when he heard the disappointment in your tone when you awoke that first morning and discovered he hadn’t stuck to the plan. Definitely.

Laying there in the quiet, you try and fail to pinpoint what feels different about tonight. You don’t hear any strange noises, nothing feels unusual, and blinking your eyes open again you raise your head a bit to look around the fire. The rest of the group are circled around the other sides of the heat source, sleeping soundly. You figure that you’re probably just getting used to this routine by now, and your body simply woke up around your usual shift change time on its own.

Still, that doesn’t explain the vague, unplaceable feeling that something is just… off.

You let out a sigh that turns into a yawn as you stretch and roll away from the fire onto your back. Letting your head roll further to the left, your eyes land on the familiar sight of your lover’s back as he sits in his usual position beside you, diligently watching your six.

He’s taken to placing his bedroll right next to yours, insisting that you lie between the fire and himself. You couldn’t really argue with his point that he can’t feel the cold anyways, so there’s no need for him to be the one next to the fire. Nor could you argue with the benefits of having him as a line of defense between you and whatever lurks beyond the reach of the firelight.

The feeling of security and protection that he provides you with is still relatively foreign to you, and a soft smile blooms on your face at the warm feeling it brings. Your smile then falls a bit as you remember the silent question you ask yourself on the regular, of whether or not you provide him with the same.

You roll the rest of the way to your left, and shuffle further toward him, closing what remains of the small gap he’d placed between the two of you. Lying halfway on your bedroll and halfway on his, you curl your body around his seated form, bringing your right arm up and gently placing a hand on the right side of his waist. He flinches slightly, and if this were earlier on in your relationship, you’d retract your hand. He’s long since informed you though that his reaction to unexpected touch is simply involuntary, and as long as it’s you, you’ve no need to pull away.

You recall the quiet, restrained desperation in his voice when he first explained it to you, all but begging you not to pull away. He can’t control the way his body reacts to touch, given that before you, he couldn’t recall the last time being touched meant anything other than pain. In spite of that though, he wants it. He wants you. That’s obvious in the way that he, without fail, immediately relaxes under your gentle touch once his mind and body process that it’s coming from you. The way he’s come to not only relax, but to lean into it. Lean into you.

You’d never push past his boundaries, never in a million years, but he’s made it quite clear after about a thousand of your quiet requests for consent at every minor touch, that he’s entirely welcoming of your non-sexual physical affections. Getting the man to verbally admit that he actually enjoys cuddling with you, without the truth being concealed beneath a heavy layer of playful banter and practiced, honeyed words didn’t come easy, but he came around to it in his own time.

So, you don’t pull back, instead following through with the motion and slowly snaking your arm around his waist. You press your front against his lower back and curl around to rest your left cheek atop his left thigh. You can’t help but notice that he doesn’t relax into you in the way he usually does, and your head turns to the right a bit, struggling to get a half-decent look at his face as you’re both turned away from the fire light.

He remains tense, still, and unresponsive to your movements, gaze seemingly locked dead ahead of him, staring out into the dark forest.

“Star? Is everything okay?”

His typically silent breath suddenly hitches, and his head angles down to face you. Now that he’s turned toward the light, you catch the way his eyes shine, and the way the light reflects off of what you quickly realize are tear tracks, running down his cheeks. He’s actively crying, tears dripping from his chin, and now with his head tilted down at you they take a different path, running down to converge and fall from the tip of his nose.

You nearly bolt upright in your shock, quickly unwrapping yourself from him and clambering around on all fours until you’re sat down in front of him, your hands gripping tightly to your upper thighs in worry. His wide-eyed gaze followed your every movement, and even now that you’re sat still in front of him, his eyes still dart around, frantically scanning you, for what, you don’t know.

“What- what’s going on?”

You keep your voice as quiet as you reasonably can in spite of your shock and concern, not eager to wake your companions and have everyone witness… whatever this is.

He doesn’t respond, looking just about as lost as you feel, shaking his head in silence as more tears fall. It’s one hell of a sight, and it suddenly hits you that this is the first time you’ve ever seen him cry.

Unsure of what to do and what even caused this, you resist the urge to wrap him in a hug, not wanting to overstep in this unfamiliar territory. Instead, you glance back over your shoulder and once again see and hear nothing of note before trying another question.

“Is there a threat? Did you see something that scared you, honey?”

He takes a long moment to answer, seeming unsure, before eventually settling on another shake of his head. His lack of confidence in his answer isn’t the most reassuring thing at the moment, but given that you aren’t detecting any danger either, you decide to believe that he really didn’t see any threat. At least, not here. Not right now, in the present moment, in front of him. He seems about halfway here and halfway gone, and if your growing suspicions are correct, he’s probably been sat here lost in the dark corners of his mind for a while now, given the state he’s in.

You catch movement to Astarion’s right side and watch as Karlach raises up from her prior position sprawled out face-down on her bedroll, propping herself up with her forearms beneath her. Her expression of concern is too aware and her eyes are too awake for her to have just now woken up, and you quickly gather that she’s probably been awake and laying there long enough to have heard your questions and Astarion’s lack of any verbal response. She doesn’t say anything though, and doesn’t move, just letting the situation unfold and keeping a watchful eye on the darkness behind you.

Relaxing slightly at the knowledge that someone else is awake and helping to keep watch now, your focus shifts back to Astarion, who’s gaze has moved to his lap, tears still falling fast. It’s almost unsettling, the way he cries. There’s no sound, no movement, his breathing is hardly even affected, nothing more than the occasional shaky breath to give away any sign of struggle at all. You don’t have to guess why it’s like this, given what he’s told you about his past. You’re sadly certain that he learned to cry like this ages ago. Silent and still, sat alone in the dark so no one would notice.

You don’t want to think about the sorts of punishments he’s endured as a result of showing such pain and emotion, but your mind pulls from what experiences he’s shared and offers up a few anyways, making you begin to feel sick.

Leaning down and trying to catch his gaze, you ask another question.

“Astarion, are you with me right now?”

He blinks, more tears spill, and his lips finally part as he responds to you with a strained whisper.

“I’m trying to be…”

You smile in spite of your current emotions and the general mood of the situation, doing your best to be something positive, something gentle, something safe for him to focus on.

“There you are…”

You say it to yourself as much as to him, relieved to finally hear his voice, as laced with pain as it sounds. You hold out your hand near where his lie balled into fists in his lap, offering him contact without forcing it on him.

“I want you to keep trying, okay? Do your best to come back into the present with me. You can take my hand, if you’d like?”

He stares down at your offered hand for a long moment before shakily unballing one of his fists. He hesitates, fingers trembling, before reaching out and placing his hand in yours. His skin is even colder than usual and slightly damp to the touch, and you couldn’t be less put off, or give less of a fuck about the messy state of him right now, or ever, if you’re being honest. You just want to help him, however you can.

You curl your warm fingers around his palm, wanting to pull him into a hug so badly but restraining yourself, letting him call the shots.

“You’re okay now, Star. You’re safe right now, here with me. We’re safe.”

He’s quiet for another long moment as he shuts his eyes tight, taking in your words. His other fist unfurls, and his body trembles almost imperceptibly.

“I… I’m sorry… I’m sorry…”

Your heart breaks.

“Honey, you have nothing to apologize for. Nothing at all, I promise you.”

He shakes his head in disagreement, his voice an insistent whisper.

“I shouldn’t be doing this.”

Your shoulders drop from where they’d been tensely held up, body slumping with a silent sigh as you watch him still try to hold this wall up between the two of you. You’d made it past a number of his walls already, but this one… this one you’ve yet to be granted access behind.

“It’s okay to cry, you know?”

Another shake of his head, this time with far more force behind it, almost vehement.

“No.”

You soften your voice, insisting.

“Yes. It is. You can cry now, Astarion. No one’s gonna hurt you. No one’s gonna judge you. I swear on my life, that’s the truth.”

His breaths become more labored, uneven and shaking.

“You aren’t his anymore. The old rules don’t apply. You can let it out, now. No one, and I mean no one, is going to punish you for it.”

His eyes pinch closed and his head shakes hard side to side, like he’s fighting his own mind, and his hand opens and closes like it wants to grab onto something. He then moves, wrapping his free hand around your arm and suddenly you’re being pulled toward him, desperately, insistently.

You follow the motion as he continues to tug at you, first leaning forward and propping yourself up with your other hand on the ground as he continues to pull you closer. You quickly gather what he wants as he lets go of your hand in favor of latching onto your other arm, pulling you upward, choking back tears all the while.

You raise up on your knees and his hands move once again to hook beneath your arms as you allow yourself to be pulled up onto his lap with physical strength you keep forgetting he possesses. Hooking your legs around his waist, you wrap your arms around his shoulders and pull him into you. His arms wrap tightly around your waist and he buries his face into the fabric of your shirt at the collar, muffling the soft sound of his crying which has now turned to full-blown sobs.

He’s still shockingly quiet in spite of it all, and you imagine it’s a mixture of being unable to let go of what’s ingrained into him, and not wanting to alert the entire camp to his current breakdown.

Your thumbs stroke up and down in place on his back, not wanting to let go of your hold on him but still wanting to give him some sort of comforting motion to focus on. Besides, you figure petting across the entire expanse of his scarred back might do the opposite of calming him down, so you refrain and keep your arms wrapped firmly around him. Turning your head down toward his, you whisper to him in between soft kisses to his temple.

“That’s it, love. Let it out.”

“You’re safe now, Astarion, I swear.”

“There’s nothing wrong with this.”

“I’m so proud of you.”

“You have every right to cry. No one ever should’ve taken that away from you.”

He grips you even tighter as you shower him with painfully unfamiliar affection and acceptance, comfort unlike anything he’s ever felt before in his horribly long life. His forehead presses against your right shoulder as his crying slows, trying to ground himself and catch his breath. You make a point of holding him securely against you, breathing slow and deep to give him an example to follow.

You catch movement in your periphery and glance over at Karlach as she quietly sits up and makes a series of silent lip movements and hand gestures that you don’t entirely grasp. You work them out to mean that she’s gonna take over watch for the rest of the night, and you can rest with Astarion. You send her a grateful look and mouth a “thank you,” to which she waves you off with what you think you read as a silent “don’t mention it” on her lips.

After a short while spent focused on slowing down his breath and bringing him fully out of his memories and back here with you, you whisper quiet words in his ear.

“Your work is done, Astarion. You can rest now.”

You mean it in both possible interpretations of the words, and he seems to understand that, his body finally relaxing against yours for the first time tonight.

“You wanna lie down with me, love?”

He seems like he almost nods, but stops himself, whispering back in an exhausted voice, scratchy and thick from crying.

“Someone has to keep watch.”

You hesitate to inform him that Karlach has already taken over that role for tonight, sure that he’d get no sleep at all if he knew she’d witnessed this. You know you’re gonna be awake watching over him for the rest of the night anyways, so instead, you offer a compromise.

“I can hold you and keep watch at the same time, love. Just… let me sit and you can lay against me.”

He gives the suggestion a moment of thought before nodding his head, reluctantly loosening his hold on you. You maneuver the both of you carefully so as to avoid allowing his tired eyes to catch sight of your obviously awake companion sitting behind him.

It isn’t much of a task considering his eyes are halfway closed already, his only remaining focus locked on you. You settle down at the head of his bedroll, guiding him to lie down and bringing his head to rest in the center of your lap.

Your hands take turns gently combing fingers through his white curls, and you feel his tense shoulders begin to relax at the feeling. You bring a thumb down and gently stroke over the lines creasing his brow, quietly encouraging him to release the tension he likely doesn’t realize he’s holding. You watch him pull in a deep, albeit still slightly unsteady breath, and you can practically feel the relief that washes over him when he exhales.

Words aren’t necessary between the two of you at this point, not in this moment, but you offer him a few anyways, hoping they’ll resonate in his tired mind as he slips into sleep.

“You’re safe here, Star. Rest easy.”

A/N: Like I said in the CWs, I haven't played the game for myself (yet!) so I only know what I've seen in the hours of (mostly Astarion-focused) scenes I've watched on YT. As a result, this might have read a bit funny if I've gotten certain details wrong. For instance- I have no idea how resting at the camp actually goes, whether or not someone keeps watch all night, etc. Also I'm not sure if Astarion even needs to actually sleep or if he meditates/falls into a trance and just calls it sleep, but for the sake of simplicity, (and me being clueless,) when I say he falls into sleep just assume he's doing whatever he'd normally do to rest. On a different note- this little fic was inspired by a combination of two things. The lovely art and additional commentary on this post, by @velnna , and also by me listening to Midnight Hour by Sierra Eagleson on loop for like, an hour, and daydreaming up this specific scene before proceeding to write it out. It is a beautiful song that is now the title and theme-song for this fic, and I encourage you to go give it a listen if you haven't heard it already. Header Image Source: x

#astarion x reader #astarion #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #astarion bg3 #bg3 astarion #astarion fic #astarion fanfic #my writing #man. this may be the quickest turnover/turnaround whateverthewordis on a fic that i've ever made happen #i usually sit on an idea and then a draft for ages before posting smthn. so given that it's only been a couple days #between the initial idea and the finished posted fic. wow. groundbreaking speeds for me #the power of hyperfixation (and love)#y'know. i've noticed a trend #why is it that nearly every time i write for a new character the first scenario i place them in involves crying #and having Reader hold/comfort them #i did it with Eddie i did it with Venti i'm doing it with Astarion. who's next. who's next in the Reverse Comfort lineup huh #idk why that's my go-to scenario it just is. maybe i do have a type. (characters that need to have a good cry in their beloved's arms)#or maybe perhaps it is i that needs the good cry and i am projecting. who knows. 'tis a mystery (it's both)#anyways i know this fic is a bit short but i just. had one little specific scene i wanted to write and that's it!#i do plan on making more for him though. i've already got another idea brewing in my brain #also sorry if 'honey' and 'love' aren't your go-to pet names. or if you wouldn't call him Star #my own style of speech heavily influences what i have Reader say in my fics and i can't help itttttt. everything i write is self-insert lma #*lmao (i’m on mobile rn i’m not retyping all of that just to add the last letter)#(yes i’m posting this from mobile cause i took a nap and overslept and missed the time i wanted to post this at. so now i am In A Rush #smthn smthn self imposed deadlines smthn smthn ‘i know the guy that made the rules and he’s a total pushover’ anyways it’s fine. post draft

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