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#bash x traveler
dontwritemeoff · 2 years
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making breakfast for june, cal, damon, and bash!
I have been brainstorming domestic moments that might have occurred in like the time between Orion and Tilaarin and when this struck me I was just like :O
This is each member separately, but I do think a big crew breakfast would be a fun thing to write as well
I am fs planning to finish this with Ryona, Aya, and Vexx!! I just wanted to get something out since I’ve been working on this for like 3 days lol
TW: food mention
JUNE
We know that this man canonically barely sleeps but we don’t really know his eating habits? So for the sake of this he gets hungry just as often as anyone else lol. 
You don’t actually set out with the intention of making breakfast for him. It’s actually sweeter than that: you simply integrated him into your morning routine. When making yourself breakfast (and this is a morning where you have time for more than just some water and granola, you like actually cook), you find yourself already considering June’s needs. You hadn’t seen him in the hallway, and you’d gotten up fairly early, so you assumed he was still in his room. Whether he was actually asleep or not, who knows.
You debated whether to eat yours first and just wait for him to come into the kitchen eventually or take it to him, and decide on the latter since you were also hoping for a private moment with him away from the mayhem of being full time mercenaries.
Transferring the food you’d cooked into some more portable dishes, you exit the kitchen and make your way to June’s door. With your hands full, you knock on the door with your elbow, and while awkward it gets the job done. You can hear some shuffling behind the door and then June answers in some comfortable pants and a shirt you can tell he hadn’t been wearing prior to five seconds ago. 
He answers on high alert but then his eyes soften when he sees you. 
“(YN), good morning, um, to what do I owe this surprise?” He asks, smiling softly yet still quirking his eyebrow. 
You smile and hold up the food you’d made, steam still wafting slightly from the top of the bowls. “I made breakfast and hoped to have a quiet morning in with you!”
“You made me breakfast?” He asks, as if that isn’t obvious from the two portions you’re holding and the invitation to eat some with you.
“Oh, well I guess I did,” You respond, “I wasn’t really thinking about doing anything special, I was just already thinking about you and made you some without thinking.”
He looks surprised for a moment before smiling deeply, the corners of his eyes wrinkling. “Come inside, I was thinking about you too.”
While it’s a bit cramped trying to both eat off from his desk, and he only has one chair that he all but forced you to sit in, insisting that standing was no problem, you both find yourself occupied with thoughts only about how happy this companionship makes you. 
During his light rant on the proper storage of Lizzie’s food and how Damon keeps taking it out of the fridge even though he knows that it needs to stay cold, you take his hand and run your finger along a fresh, but albeit, small cut. You’d reached out without really thinking about it, and June cuts off his sentence preemtively.
“Are you not using the cream that Ryona gave you for these cuts? It doesn’t seem like this has healed much since yesterday. You know you should be doing that,” you scold, despite there being no anger behind your voice.
He blushes just slightly, barely visible with his tanned skin and the greenish tint to his blood. He averts his gaze but you know he’s guilty.
“It’s not that big of a deal and my hands are already so scarred anyways, I don’t see how they could look any worse,” he deflects, and from the look of sadness that passes over your face he knows he’s said something wrong. He just wanted to keep you from worrying about him.
“June,” you start earnestly, “you do realize that I love you, wholeheartedly and completely, and that includes all your scars, external and internal? I will always accept you just as you are, and care for you even for the most trivial things. I know that it must still be hard adjusting to this level of attention, but I will always remind you that I care about every small part of you.”
There’s a silence that follows that statement, as you see tears welling in his eyes. His brows furrow as he tries to process every word of your statement. Twice already today you’d cared about him as if it was second nature and now you’ve told him that he has your unconditional care and support. While he’d found trust and friendship with the crew of the A6, nobody had cared for him in this way, without judgement and as if it was like breathing. The feeling of it crumbled him, and he took you into his arms, cupping the back of your head with his hand as he buried his face into your shoulder.
And you hug him back just as tight, as with your arms you could squeeze the doubt and pain right out of him. While you hadn’t considered how much your small actions would mean to him, you wanted to convey how big your emotions were too. When June pulls himself back together again and pulls away from the hug, you smile and wipe his cheeks dry with your hand. 
“How about we go to the kitchen for seconds?”
CALDERON
With preparations for Tilaarin and the diplomatic nightmare of dealing with Alisa and Oppo simultaneously, you hadn't seen Calderon in a couple days, besides in passing where he gave you a soft look but kept walking.
While your time with Cal had been short, you knew this man as a workaholic with no sense of self care, and got it in your head to make sure he was taking care of himself, since he couldn't seem to do it himself. Before you went to bed you'd stopped by the bridge to make sure he wasn't still there and luckily only found Aya confirming the path to Tilaarin and making minor adjustments in the autopilot. Satisfied that Cal was most likely at least in his room, you went to bed yourself.
The next morning while making yourself something to eat you noticed a distinct lack of dirty dishes from Calderon. (At this point, you'd eaten with the crew enough to know who used what and Cal was extra particular with his items.) Sighing, you started up the stove to make sure that he ate something more than a handful of nuts or some plain bread.
Once you'd finished and plated both of your meals you realized you had no idea where he was. Most likely he was already awake doing god knows what, and you didn't have the energy to hunt him down. So, you picked up your com, took a deep breath, and called the shipwide line:
"Paging Captain Calderon Lynch, from Prince(ess) (YN) Peg'asi," you laugh inwardly at the formality that certainly wasn't necessary but conveyed urgency, "I need you to report to the kitchen."
You can hear Bash laughing from the hallway, and through your mild embarrassment hold out hope that Cal is even more embarrassed and that he'll arrive at least to chew you out.
You sit at the table, waiting in silence for a minute, when you hear the automatic door slide open and a peeved but blushing Calderon step in.
"To what do I owe this, pleasure," Cal begins, "your majesty." You know that if it has been anyone but you, he would already be yelling, or even more likely wouldn't have entertained the request at all.
"No need to have a stick in your ass so early, Captain," you tease back, "and I'll have you know that your continued well-being is of utmost importance so I believe my call portrayed the exact right amount of urgency."
"And what is your concern with my well-being?" He asks, leaning against the counter with the air of someone with undeserved confidence.
"Well, and I don't know for sure as a [Tilaari/Kitalphan/fellow human], but I believe people need to eat to live and if you don't do that for long enough it's not good for you."
You gesture towards where the breakfast is already beginning to cool and raise your eyebrows suggestively.
"Do you think you need to take care of me?" Calderon sighs, though there's no defensiveness in his voice and he takes a seat.
Taking the seat next to him, you take his hand in yours and near force him to look you in the eyes. "It's not about thinking I need to, it's that I want to. You're someone important to me, and the rest of the crew, and you can't be the one sacrificing himself for others. We're in this together, ok?"
Calderon swallows the lump in his throat and nods, determined not to cry at such a small gesture. But in the back of his mind he thinks, when was the last time someone's done even something this small for him? Squeezing your hand, he releases it to grab the fork and take a bite, smiling at your anticipatory face for his reaction to the food.
"It's wonderful, (YN)."
DAMON
I imagine with Damon is less of you making him breakfast and rather making it together. We already know he can cook and bake pretty well, so I'd like to think he makes himself nice meals as a way to have something he can control. So when one morning you're both entering the kitchen at the same time, he quirks you a smile and asks, "You come here often?"
"Not as often as I probably should," You respond, reaching around him to open the fridge. When he sees you pouring yourself just a bowl of cereal he furrows his brows a bit and then sighs.
"Is that all you're having?"
"Um. Yeah? What, is there something else I should be eating?"
Damon pauses, an inscrutable look on his face, then sighs resignedly.
"You ever cook in that palace or did you have a personal chef to do it all the time?" He teases, but steps aside from the stove so you can see what he's doing.
"Uh....I never really made anything, but sometimes I'd sneak into the kitchens to get a midnight snack or extra food. I don't think that counts though."
Damon let's a breath out of his nose in laughter and says, "No, I wouldn't count that as cooking. But I know a thing or two about stealing food, too."
You swat his arm but feel a pit in your stomach. Was it pity, sympathy, or simply sadness that he had to experience such desolation? You shake the thoughts off and lean closer to him, either to see better or to simply get closer. The reason doesn't matter.
"So what are you making?" You look at a greased frying pan and a mixing bowl filled with what you think is a mixture of eggs, milk, and cinnamon.
"Well I was going to just make myself a plate of eggs and call it a day but I figured if I'm teaching you then I might as well make something nice. You ever have French toast?" He takes a...whisk? You weren't sure, like you'd said, you didn't have much experience with cooking. He hands the whisk to you and says, "Here. Mix until it's all one consistency. I'll let you know when you've gotten there."
You hold the side of the bowl and begin mixing like your life depends on it. Maybe it was your pride making up for the fact that you felt so inexperienced compared the rest of the crew. What you didn't know was that that would cause the mix to start spraying everywhere.
“Hey! ‘The hell you do that for?” Damon shouts in surprise as he gets egg and milk in his hair.
“I! Um! I thought you had to mix it really hard?” You say guiltily, setting the whisk down as gently as possible. 
“What? No, these ingredients are mostly liquid! They’re just to soak the bread in!” He says, swiping his hands through his hair. When he sees your dejected look, he purses his lips and puts the whisk back in your hand.
“Here,” he puts his hand over yours, “We’ll mix together. See, nice and gentle, just with enough force to break the egg yolks.” You can feel the callouses on Damon’s hands as he holds one of yours stirring the whisk and the other is over your hand holding the bowl.
“Ok,” you say quietly, since his chest is pressed against your back, “and what next?”
“Well, we let the bread soak while we make some [coffee/tea/drink of choice].”
The rest of breakfast is made without any more spills, mostly you observing Damon but he does let you flip the toast in the skillet, laughing lightly at your surprise when the uncooked side begins to sizzle. When you’re finished and both sitting down to eat, you smile widely at him. You’re extremely grateful for his patience with you, and not just today. Adjusting to life as a not-so-ordinary person has certainly not been easy, but after his apology he’d been nothing but gentle, though he’d never admit it.
“Thank you for teaching me this, Damon. I hope you’ll let me learn more from you.”
“I, uh, it’s really no problem,” he says, pointedly looking at his plate as he picks at his food, “It’s nice to have someone to do this with anyways.”
BASH
Bash is another member of the crew known for his baking prowess, so I think he’d make something really nice once a week that he can eat off from for the rest. Like meal planning but for like an oatmeal bake lol.
He keeps his portions labeled neatly (well, not all that neatly but you can certainly tell they’re his from the doodles that accompany his name) in the fridge, and he has lots of fun mugs to drink from, one matching your own “I <3 Cursa” mug. This particular morning you can see steaming tea coming from a mug that has clip-art of tools on it and says, “Kiss The Mechanic” in bright pink lettering, and you know it has to be his, though you have no idea where he would have gotten it. There were a few very specific gift shops on Chrono, however, that seemed like they had something for everyone. You had to stop him from buying you a T-shirt covered in words that started out reading, “I have a kick-ass biomechanical boyfriend, and yes, he bought me this shirt.”
Since the tea in the mug was still hot, you knew that Bash had to be around somewhere, though he wasn’t currently in the kitchen. Knowing at that point his habits for breakfast, you took out one of his portions from the fridge and set it on the plate to microwave (? I have no clue what cooking would look like in the future). 
While waiting for that to finish, you rummaged around in the fridge for something for yourself, finding some fresh fruit that Ryona had picked up on Chrono, with a note that said “for sharing but do not eat it all!!” and laughed. You knew for sure that even if she hadn’t labeled it, she would have made an exception for Bash. Taking the carton of fruit out of the fridge you, spoon some onto Bash’s oatmeal to give it some more flavor and set it on the table before making a bowl of fruit for yourself. You hear the doors swish open as Bash walks in, yawning. It takes him a moment to process that his food was already warm and waiting for him on the counter.
He looks at you and then back at his food. “Did you do this?” He asks, before picking it up to smell it.
“Um, yes? Don’t worry, I didn’t poison it.”
“Oh,” he starts, “Well, uh, thank you. How did you know that was what I wanted?”
“Bash, you eat the same thing every morning and the containers are covered in your name. Plus, while I may be sheltered, I know how to operate a microwave.”
He picks up his bowl and mug and takes a seat next to you. He then eyes the fruit in his bowl and the fruit in his. “Is this Ryona’s?”
“Yes, but she said she’d share. Do you not like it? I’m sorry I put some in without asking, I thought you’d like the extra flavor.”
“Oh! No no, I love it, I just, I don’t know. I’m not used to people caring for me. Sure, the crew cares about me but, I never had someone taking care of me growing up, and when I was under the care of the Archangels it was because I couldn’t take care of myself. It felt more like a debt I’ve yet to pay back. So I guess when it’s something small and out of the goodness of someone’s heart I just don’t really believe it. Not that I don’t believe you and your feelings! But, my brain doesn’t want to, you know?”
You smile at his ramblings, he always manages to make you smile.
“Sebastian,” you say with a fake stern voice, causing his eyes to widen, “I don’t just do this out of the goodness of my heart but the love in my heart. I pay attention to you and your habits and want to take care of you because I love you. It’s that simple, and I’ll keep doing it until you and your silly brain of yours believes it.”
He takes your hand and raises it to press a kiss to your palm. 
“I love you too, (YN). I hope you’ll let me take care of you too.”
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vespersong · 1 month
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Tying into my last post about the subject.... Can you imagine how much would change once Hawkins married Lucy? Like, yes, a lot changed, but it's more than just the person.
Hawk got used to Tim in his space, working with his hours and quirks. Their lives folded together perfectly. So much so that I think it became a problem when Hawk married Lucy.
Example: Hawk used to cook for Tim all the time. It was their way of sharing meals, and Skippy got used to good cooking. So Hawk tried to do the same for Lucy. And she was pleasantly surprised! Ate every bite even. But when she was done, she called it a nice surprise, but "you really didn't need to do that, Hawk. We have a cook!"
And Hawk deflated a little. Did Lucy intend to be mean? I don't think so. But it still hurt. And it made Hawk miss Tim all the more, because what they had was so easy.
(PS. Thanks @bre1995 for the GIF!)
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commander-krios · 5 months
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Some Harmless Fun
Fandom: Andromeda Six Pairing: Calderon Lynch/f!Traveler, Damon Reznor & Calderon Lynch Rating: Teen Summary: Damon is bored and when he's bored, things happen. Like driving his favorite Captain crazy. It's even more fun when he has a willing participant in it. Words: 2355 Additional Tags: Kitalphin Traveler, Pole Dancing, Temporary Amnesia, Pre-Peg'asi Reveal, Teasing, Jealously
Read on AO3
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Damon watched with lingering amusement as the stowaway walked away from the bar, spine straight as she ducked beneath the curtain that separated the main bar from the strip club section of the Arc. Once she disappeared beneath the tattered cloth, Calderon’s shoulders tensed more than he thought was possible. The girl was driving their dear Captain insane and Damon didn’t think it was only because of her attitude.
Like a shadow, he took the empty seat beside Calderon, motioning the bartender for a refill. Tense silence settled between them so thick that Damon was positive he could cut it with a knife. Glancing out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that the Captain ignored him, that perpetual grimace on his face.
“Looks like Red gave you a piece of her mind. Gotta say, surprised the girl has that much spirit.”
Cal glanced at him sharply, the beer in his hand hovering a few inches from his lips. “What did you call her? You know what, I don’t want to know.” With a sigh, he set the drink down, rubbing a hand down his face. “What do you want, Reznor?”
Damon tried to ignore the jab, a flash of irritation disturbing his otherwise jovial mood. “I want to know why you’re letting Her Majesty get you all riled up. I thought you wanted her gone.”
Calderon pinched the bridge of his nose, his distress only fueling Damon’s need to get under his skin. “Ayame… convinced me to keep her aboard.”
Damon snorted, burying his face in his glass when Cal shot him a glare. Oh this was just too easy. “So you like her?”
“I don’t like you but I still keep you on the ship.”
“You pay me.” Damon reminded him, his mind already building the next part of the plan. If Aya was willing to fight for the girl… “Besides, you’d be bored if I wasn’t around.”
“Bored? With Aya and Bash? I think you’re drunk.” Calderon scoffed before taking a sip of his drink, looking briefly disgusted by the taste. “The girl can stay as long as she’s useful.”
Damon’s lips curled, a predatory grin he couldn’t hide. “Oh, I’m sure you have many uses for her.”
The muscles in Cal’s jaw flexed, his hand curling dangerously around the bottle. “If you don’t get away from me-”
“Fine.” Damon said, putting his hands up in surrender, as if he ever would give up teasing Calderon. It was too much fun. “I know when I’m not wanted.”
Calderon rolled his eyes, ignoring him when Damon took his drink and headed to the exact place where Daianira had disappeared a few minutes before. With a glance at the Captain, noting that he was still moping at the bar, Damon ducked beneath the curtain, ready to carry out part two of his devious plan.
The strip club portion of the Arc was already rowdy, a crowd growing near the tiny illustrious pilot as she swung around a pole. June was standing off to the side, frowning as he watched the men surrounding Aya, ready to step in like the guardian he was. Too bad for him, Damon didn’t intend on leaving them at a mere rowdy.
Fiery and stunning Daianira stood next to June, watching the scene with her arms crossed over her chest. He noticed how her eyes swept over the occupants of the club, gaze not on the lovely show in front of her, but scanning for threats. There was something about her, something that said she’d lived in darkness before and knew how to find it.
If Calderon wasn’t so clearly flustered by her, Damon would’ve been tempted to see how that darkness tasted.
Taking a sip of his drink, he approached quietly, not that the two of them would be able to hear him coming with all of the catcalls and shouts aimed at Aya. Or the blaring music from the speakers. Or the fact that Daianira’s turquoise eyes were making daggers at anyonne who got too close to the stage.
Sidling up to the stowaway’s side, Damon nodded to where Aya was spinning around the pole, one side of his mouth curling into a grin. “Looks like fun.”
Daianira raised an eyebrow, giving him a look that screamed that she was considering committing him to an asylum. “Then why don’t you get up there? If it looks so fun.”
He leaned against the wall, crossing his arms casually, his smile only widening. “Why? Did you want me to?”
Daianira rolled her eyes, turning to June in a feeble attempt to ignore him. She really didn’t think it was going to be that easy, did she? He moved behind them, threw an arm around her shoulders and leaned in, blowing a raspberry against her cheek.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“It’ll piss the Captain off.” He muttered, noting the weird look June threw in their direction. Oh if June only knew what he was thinking in his twisted head. “What better reason to do it?”
That caught her attention. He knew it when her mouth twitched, her eerily vivid blue eyes widening, that he’d hooked her. Now all he had to do was close the deal, sweeten it enough that she would gladly throw herself up there even if it would embarrass her because the temptation of getting on Calderon’s nerves was too great.
“I may not remember more than my name at the moment, but I’m positive I don’t know how to dance… like that.”
Damon squeezed her tight against his side, ignoring the tension in her shoulders. She was too uptight, too much like Calderon. This would benefit her just as much as it did him. “Aya is a great teacher. Let her help you. At the very least, have some fun. You do know how to do that, right?”
She rolled her eyes, taking the challenge and stepping up to the side of the stage. Damon couldn’t hear whatever it was to she said to Ayame, but he recognized the gleeful look in the pilot’s violet eyes. She was teasing her and the stowaway had no idea how to react. At least he wasn’t the only one enjoying this.
Daianira climbed onto the stage with a bit of help from Aya before the two of them began discussing the finer points of pole dancing. Damon didn’t care how it was done, as long as it was done right. Because if his little stowaway caught on quick enough, there would be one hell of a roaring crowd to greet the Captain when he eventually stumbled in.
“Let me show you.” Ayame wrapped her hands around the pole, waiting for Daianira to study the grip. “Just hold on like this.”
Daianira tightened her hands around the pole and Ayame frowned. She reached forward to adjust the fingers, trying to pry them from the metal.
“No, that’s too tight. Relax, will you?” Aya’s eyes widened in concern, squeezing Daianira’s shoulders gently. “You’re as fucking tense as Calderon.”
Damon saw as the stowaway chewed on her bottom lip, frowning. She was still tense, but there was a fire in her gaze, a look of annoyance at being compared to the Captain. He smiled, filing the look away for further inspection later. At least, he can find a way to use this later, when one of them irritated him. Ayame gave her a few more pointers on how to swing without falling off of the stage before stepping away, leaving plenty of room for her to attempt it. Daianira swung around the pole slowly, her hand getting stuck a few times. She paused briefly, cursing under her breath, wiping her palms on her pants.
Damon leaned on the stage below them, smirking up at the amnesiac woman when she noticed him standing there. “Nervous, Princess?”
“Damon, leave her alone.” June said from behind him.
Damon chose to ignore his advice. Where was the fun in that?
“Maybe you should get Calderon up there, Aya. It might be what he needs to loosen the stick up his ass.”
Aya snorted, flashing him a grin before going back to teaching Daianira the secrets of pole dancing. Somehow, she managed to get her around the pole without stopping for a few spins.
“You’re a quick learner.”
Only a few more turns before Daianira managed it on her own, Ayame’s assistance no longer needed. As she spun around the pole, he caught a glimpse of a real grin on her pretty face, cheeks flushed with exhilaration, her rose gold hair flying in all directions. Ayame joined her a moment later, the two of them taking turns around the metal pole, getting the crowd riled up at the sight of the two beautiful Kitalphans.
Damon caught a glimpse of June’s face out of the corner of his eye. The cowboy’s cheeks were flushed red, those perceptive eyes wide as he watched Aya and her new partner in crime twirling like a couple of circus freaks.
He snorted, waiting for the crowd’s noise to draw the rest of the crewmates. Bash appeared first, curiously ducking beneath the curtain only to pause just past the threshold, blinking dumbly at the sight in front of him. He recovered quickly, putting his hands in the pockets of his pants and approaching where Damon and June stood.
“What prompted this?” He asked, managing to tear his eyes away long enough to look at them.
June sighed, running a hand down his face. He almost felt bad for torturing the cowboy, but sometimes sacrifices had to be made for the greater good. “Damon happened.”
Damon’s lips turned up. “You can thank me later.”
Bash rolled his eyes at the same time June groaned in mortification. Damon figured the cowboy was going to have a bad time with what he knew was coming. Because Calderon would hear the ruckus and come investigate, he wouldn’t be able to help himself. And that’s when the fun would begin.
“Where’s Ry?” He asked Bash, grin widening as Daianira took another turn around the pole, having the time of her life by the looks of it. “She’s missing quite the show.”
“The noise was too much for her. She stepped outside for a bit.” Bash chuckled as the crowd started to cheer loudly, Ayame and Daianira both getting into the groove of dancing together. “I think we’re in trouble with these two on board.”
“I hope so. Need to liven the ship up a bit. Especially with Calderon’s moodiness lately.” The subject of his conversation entered the strip club as if the mention of his name had pulled him in. Damon motioned towards the Captain. “Speak of the devil…”
“And the devil appears.” Bash agreed, shaking his head at the setup. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“You can’t seriously be asking me that. Because we both know I like to live dangerously.” Damon watched as Calderon’s eyes immediately went to where the girls were, sapphire going to slits, jaw clenching and shoulders stiff as he stomped closer, intent on stopping the show. If he was a cartoon character, Damon imagined there would be smoke coming out of his ears.
Once they were in earshot, Calderon waved angrily at the scene, turning on Damon immediately. “What the fuck is this?”
Damon raised an eyebrow, trying to be unaffected by his friend’s seething rage, but his mouth twitched with a smile. “The girls wanted to burn off some steam. I can’t deny there are worst ways to spend my time.” Nudging the Captain in the arm with an elbow, his smile only widened. “I know you agree with me, Cal.”
“I told you to stop calling me that.” Calderon’s sharp gaze was on Daianira as she spun, laugh echoing over the din. His cheeks almost looked pink but in the dark club, it was impossible to tell. Damon swore he was blushing. “She’s going to break her neck.”
“And it’s such a pretty neck. Isn’t it, Captain?”
Bash snorted behind him, but covered his mouth with his bionic hand, eyes moving anywhere but at Calderon who shot him a sharp look. June, on the other hand, had purposely moved away from the three of them, conveniently placing himself out of range of Calderon’s hands. Not that the Captain had even glanced his way.
“Maybe it’s your neck you should be thinking about, Reznor.” Calderon grumbled under his breath, rubbing the back of his neck with a hand. “Get her down. We’re leaving. Now.”
“You’re no fun.” Damon pouted, hands in his pockets as he leaned against the wall behind him. “If anyone needs to relax-”
Calderon’s murderous expression cut him off before he made a mistake. Damon shrugged in an attempt to let it go, knowing that there was only so far he could push the Captain before someone got hurt, but he knew that dark look in his eyes. There was something about the girl that put him on edge. And he would find out what it was.
“Get Daianira down. We don’t know who she is. If someone recognizes her-”
“Worried about her?” Damon teased, enjoying the way Calderon’s nose scrunched in disgust. Oh yes, there was definitely something there.
“I’m worried about us. Now do it.”
Calderon shoved past a couple standing off to the side, not even bothering to apologize. Damon shook his head, eyes flashing towards Bash who still stood beside him.
“He’s got it bad.” The bionic said with a deep laugh, gaze settling on the girls still having the time of their lives on stage. “How long do you give it before he explodes?”
Damon snorted, the bet already made before he opened his mouth. “Not even a week. The stowaway likes to piss him off. He won’t be able to hold back.”
Bash only responded with a full bellied laugh, knowing there was no way Damon was going to lose a bet when he could just fix the win. Which, seeing as if benefited everyone if Calderon got laid, he figured the odds were in his favor.
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rainidayss · 5 days
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Aphrodite (A Damon and Ester Snippet)
Just a silly little thing I jot down after discovering the origin of Damon's name.
Warnings: None
Setting: Tilaarin (Epi 7-8?)
Damon and Ester walk relaxedly, side by side, the sun slowly setting in the distance. Damon stretched; sparring with Nerissa was actually tiring. He had to admit that she knew her way around a blade; flopping into bed seemed very appealing right now. Damon glanced at Ester, whose head was tilted downward, auburn hair tickling his eyelashes. He looked lost in thought.
He nudged Ester’s shoulder, saying, “Keep doin' that, and your brain’s gonna burst one day.”
Ester blinked as if coming out of a daze and looked around at him, “Oh, sorry. I was just reflecting.”
“On what?” Damon asked.
“Some stuff Alisa said,” Ester replied, then his lips twitched into a smile, “...She said she’d hunt me down if I hurt you. I don’t see why she should be teasing you about being protective.”
Damon shook his head, “Somehow, I’m not surprised.”
Ester laughed softly, “You really care about each other. She’s like your very own Pythias, huh?”
Damon tilted his head in confusion, “My what?”
“Pythias,” Ester repeated, “From the story?”
“Still no clue what you're talking about.”
“Damon and Pythias,” Ester made a dramatic gesture with his hands. “It’s an old human story. Greek. It’s the origin of your name. You didn’t know?”
Damon rolled his eyes, but it was affectionate, “There’s only one nerd outta the two of us, and it isn’t me.”
Ester whapped Damon on the shoulder lightly, and Damon grinned.
“Well, put simply, Pythias and Damon were close friends, and one day, a tyrant king accused Pythias of going against him and said he was to be executed. Pythias accepted his fate but asked if he could travel to his homeland first to close his affairs and say goodbye to his family. The king refused, but Damon, seeing how important this was to Pythias, said that the king could take him hostage until Pythias came back. The king agreed and said that Damon was to be executed in Pythias’s stead if he did not return. Pythias left, and soon, the deadline for his return started to arrive. The king grew impatient, but just as Damon was about to be executed, Pythias returned. He apologized and explained that he had been captured by pirates but had fled the ship by jumping into the sea and swimming for hours until he found shore, desperate to come back and save his friend. Touched by the pair’s friendship and loyalty to each other, the king let them both go free,” Ester turned to look at Damon, cheek flushing faintly, “It’s a bit of a fairytale ending, but the story grew popular, and Damon and Pythias became known as an icon of loyalty.”
Damon stared at Ester, “How the hell do you remember random stuff like this?”
Ester shrugged, “I don’t know. You interest me, and I suppose a passion for something helps me remember it.” This time, Ester flushed completely, “I-I mean, it interests me. I enjoy mythology, and Greeks played a big part in it—stop laughing!”
Damon bit inside of his cheek to quiet down his chuckling, “You're adorable, did you know that?”
Ester sped up, eyes fixed determinedly away from Damon and ears still bright red, “I’m never telling you anything ever again.”
Damon jogged closer to Ester, “Nooo, oh come on- don’t worry. You interest me too. And besides, if Alisa’s my Pythias, you’re my Aphrodite,” Damon said the last part in Ester’s ear, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. Ester turned to make a face at him, and Damon started laughing again.
“You’re so cheesy,” Ester groaned.
“Sorry, I think you mean charming,” Damon raised his eyebrows.
Ester rolled his eyes but smiled all the same.
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All that's left. - Chapter 1 - Douglette - Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling [Archive of Our Own]
Chapter 1 Chapter Text “Well fuck, Princess. I don't think this is where we meant to land.” Hermione shot a glare at Draco that promised retribution, as soon as they got out of the mess they’d landed themselves in this time. “Think this was Potters doing?” He winced the moment the question was out of his mouth as pain flashed across her face. “Of course it was.” she replied softly, allowing him to wrap her in his arms as both of them ignored the wands pointed their way. “I’ve never met them!” a voice protested loudly behind her, “This isn't my fault!” “I don't believe it was our doing either.” Another voice followed, reminding Draco viscerally of his mother. Hermione unwound herself from Draco, turning slowly to face the group of people who were staring at them with a mix of curiosity, fear and hostility. “Perhaps we should allow them to explain.” Minerva ventured looking over the two people standing in front of them. They were filthy, emaciated and haunted looking. Their clothes were tattered enough to indicate that they’d been worn for some time and she didn’t want to imagine how long it would take the girl to comb through the matted mess on her head. Neither of them had moved for their wands but she noticed the twitch of their fingers that suggested they’d have them in hand in seconds if needed and the wary way they watched the room, their sides pressed tightly against each other. Neither of them looked older than the students who had just graduated but she knew she hadn’t seen these two before in her life. “And how do we know they’re telling the truth?” Moody growled. Hermione rolled her eyes. “Lets not pretend you don't have veritaserum on hand, Alastor.” Moody flinched “And just how do you know who I am?” He demanded, his posture immediately defensive as another shocked ripple flowed through the room. Hermione shot a look at Draco, communicating something silently that had Minerva intrigued. Before she could open her mouth to redirect, Moody shot a hex at them. The effect was instantaneous. Minerva watched in horrified fascination as the children, the bedraggled, starved looking children immediately morphed into soldiers, their faces shutting down completely as their stances changed and the girl fired up a shield charm before she could blink, the boy shooting off an incarcerous with the girl following up with an expelliarmus and the boy stunning the crotchety Auror to end the threat. Neither relaxed even with Moody incapacitated. She knew without asking that these children had fought before. And that thought made her heart sore. No child should ever look like that. “I think that perhaps we should all lower our wands.” Albus suggested mildly, his eyes roaming over the interlopers with a gleam Minerva wasn't sure she liked, his mind clearly turning over possibilities. Neither of the children moved, their body's screaming distrust as they pressed themselves closer together and held their wands steady. “I think not.” The boy answered coldly. “Its been a bit of rough few years and I’d hate to have survived this long to be taken out by one of your little birds who couldn't be bothered to wait on a fucking explanation.” “To be fair, you did just appear in a building that is secret kept.” Dumbledore answered mildly. “And no one appears to have any idea who you are. It's…rather suspicious, wouldn't you say?” “All the more reason not to fucking kill us and allow us to give you answers, wouldn't you say?” the girl growled mockingly. “Christ, no wonder it turned into such a fucking shit show. How the fuck did anyone get any information if no one actually bothered to fucking ask?” The boy snorted, “That year in a tent did wonderful things for your vocabulary, Princess.” “Fuck off, Ferret.” she growled. “Remind me why I brought you along?” “Because I was the only one left?”
For more read the completed story at the link below.
Stats:
Published:2022-04-30
Completed:2022-10-02
Words:82,046
Chapters:26/26
Comments:667
Kudos:2,953
Bookmarks:898
Hits:81,954
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harmonyandco · 1 year
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Molly Weasley had a vision. She wanted, all she wanted really, was One Big Happy Weasley Family. To that end, she felt no guilt at encouraging her youngest children in pursuing Harry and Hermione. She got her wish. Ginny married Harry after the war, and Hermione and Ron married too. But fate doesn't like it when you mess with her plans. Both marriages are disasters, but with magic, marriage is forever. Molly knows she made a mistake. Her son is an abusive little shit and Ginny is a spoiled brat who only thinks of herself and leaves Harry to look after their children. No body is happy with the situation, and it all culminates when Harry dies under mysterious circumstances and Molly is pretty sure it's Ron who did it. She has to fix it. So, she goes back into the old family magic and finds a ritual that will take her back. Back before she used the love potions, back before she ruined her family. Molly Weasley always gets what she wants. This time, she wants to make things right.
@mattaweber
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xnarlie-starlightx · 1 year
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Maxine: D-do— …do you remember what you used to said towards me in my nightmare back then when it was twelve years and five months ago? C—
Other Max: Stop romanticize your old dreams, maggot. Why bother involving this since you’ve been ignoring your red flag reunion relationship with Chloe? Wasn’t it obvious enough you ignore your storm we cause from letting others died?
Maxine: … um, I—
Other Max: Thought so, you’re still doing you from dodging and taking a bullet because you barely earn consequences after of all past years, dumbass.
Maxine: …I was going to pointed out how it started when I first low key have an affection, I kinda wish it turned out different instead after everything’s going on before and after sacrificing Chloe.
Other Max: …I don’t recall further memorizing your body language back then from before, you were threaten and paralyze instead sexually active. But if it’s true what you’re admitting harshly pulls her closer, face to face Give us a kiss, my fucking pathetic loser.
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astraystayyh · 2 months
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pieces of you
single dad!chan. x fem!reader
genre : neighbors!au. fluff. angst. slow burn. mutual pining. 8.7k wc
summary : In which you and chan are each other's missing pieces. Alternatively, Chris and his daughter come knocking at your apartment asking for flour, and he's no longer embarrassed when you open the door.
a.n. : my chris best girl dad agenda is going strong!!!!!! my second fic for the winter falls collab with my writer xi hehe i hope you will all enjoy reading!! feedback is highly appreciated 🤍 the song chris will write for sowon is light by sleeping at last, highly recommend listening to it!!
winter falls masterlist.
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i. 
“I can’t believe you’re making me do this.”
“Shh, daddy smile.”
Soft murmurs linger just beyond your door, elusive words that could easily be dismissed as figments of your imagination. However, any doubt in your mind dissipates with three resounding knocks, jolting you from your momentary contemplation. 
A reluctant groan escapes you as you glance down at your attire—a loosely hanging oversized hoodie, a testament to the numerous times it has been tugged down, and a pair of pajama pants whose matching top has mysteriously vanished. Clearly, you don't feel presentable enough to welcome anyone at this late hour. So, you remain motionless, futilely lowering the TV volume in hopes that whoever's behind the door will just continue with their night. But the knocks persist against your wish, so, with a resigned sigh, you rise from your seat, your blanket cascading to the ground in a soft descent.
“What–” the words dissolve in your mouth like a sweet nectar as you open the door, your eyes beholding no one in your periphery. A slight tug at your pants draws your attention downward, only to find the most adorable child your eyes have ever laid on. She's clad in Rapunzel-themed pajamas, wolf slippers bumping into your plain ones, and, to your surprise, a whisk cradled in her small hand. 
“Hey there,” your voice softens as you crouch to meet her warm gaze. You find an innocent happiness gleaming in her eyes, a radiant spark shining even beneath the corridor's muted light. Two dimples adorn her cheeks as she smiles at you. 
“Hi, my dad wants to tell you something,” she says, pointing with her whisk to the very end of the hallway. You crane your neck, trying to catch a glimpse of the elusive figure. 
“Your dad?”
“Mm. He’s a bit shy, that’s why he’s hiding,” she confides in a whisper. But, despite her earnest attempt, her words still resound loudly in the vacant space, causing giggles to spill out of your mouth. 
“And you aren’t shy?” you inquire, tilting your head. 
“Nu-uh,” she shakes her head with conviction as someone emerges behind her. She instinctively wraps an arm around their leg, nestling her cheek against their thigh. 
She isn't shy because she feels protected.
You rise from your place, eyes locking with a familiar shade of brown. Only these hold a mesmerizing quality to them making your very breath catch in your throat. Kindness pours from his gaze as it travels down your face, a sentiment that further materializes as delicate smile lines stitch around the corner of his eyes.  
He’s beautiful. 
Your eyes trail down to two pairs of dimples, mirroring the ones of his daughter perfectly. She is his living portrait, sharing his eyes, lips, and smile. Yet, his cheeks blush in a hue she does not possess, while his left hand fiddles with his earlobe, in an unspoken, timid gesture. For some odd reason, it pierces straight through your heart.
“Sorry for bothering you,” a smooth Australian accent rolls off his tongue, similar to rich butter spread on warm bread- it infuses your being with tingles pulsating from the base of your toes. You suddenly no longer miss your blanket.
“I'm your next-door neighbor. We were just making cookies and we realized we actually  don’t have flour,” he explains, a bashful smile imprinted onto his lips. 
“You didn’t check beforehand?” you ask, laughter tinting your voice. 
“I forgot,” he admits, but his tone sounds almost sad as if beating himself over it. A fleeting shadow veils his face briefly, dissipating like a passing cloud grazing the sun.
“Can we borrow some from you? I told Sowon that we could go to the store but she said it’s too cold out,” he asks, his hand resting on his daughter’s shoulder soothingly. 
“It is too cold out,” you agree with a frown, looking down at Sowon to which she smiles brightly, happy to have your support. 
“And of course, I'll bring you flour. Don’t worry about it. Do you want to come in meanwhile?”
“It's okay, we'll wait here. Don’t want to intrude.” 
“Thank you!” Sowon beams, her missing tooth in full display. 
“Yeah, thank you so much…” he trails out, tilting his head as if to silently inquire about your name.
“Yn. And you?”
“Chris.”
“Nice to meet you, Chris,” you smile, shaking his extended hand. His fingers wrap around your palm, and it feels as if you’re grasping thunder, crackling with an electricity that your eyes can’t behold, yet your soul does, suddenly illuminated from within. 
Your smile grows as you detach yourself from his hold, before bending forward to bop Sowon’s nose. “And nice to meet you too Rapunzel.” 
Your words make her hide behind her father’s leg, peeking out slightly to look at you. 
“See I'm not the only one who gets shy,” Chan chuckles, and Sowon whines in complaint, further burying her face in her dad’s grey sweatpants. 
Adorable, so much it stirs a long-forgotten melancholy within your being. 
“She gets a pass, she's still young, right Sowon?”
“Are you calling me old then?” Chan fakes outrage, bringing one hand to his chest while the other cradles Sowon’s back. 
“Old enough to forget about flour,” you wink and he laughs, looking down at your slippers. 
“Touché.” 
A few minutes go by before you come back, a recipient full of flour in your hands. The sight before you makes you pause in your tracks– Chris, leaning against the wall, Sowon propped on his hip, her arms loosely hanging around his neck, her eyes closed. 
“Did she…” you whisper and he turns to you. 
“Yeah, fell asleep,” he smiles fondly, tucking a few strands of her hair behind the curve of her ear. “She’ll be disappointed when she wakes up to no cookies. She wanted us to have a baking holiday tradition.”
“You don’t know how to make them?” 
“No, I was counting on a six-year-old to assist me,” he chuckles quietly, prompting a snort from you. 
“Well, keep the flour, in case you need it again.” 
“Thank you, Yn,” he grins, the smile taking over his entire face, grabbing the recipient from you. 
“You’re welcome Chris,” you say, as you both linger around the door still, not making any attempt to move. 
Your eyes refuse to peel away from his, as if there were a magnetic force drawing you to him, telling you that your gaze belonged to rest on him.
“Uhm,” he clears his throat, leaning away from the wall. “I'll get going.”
“Yeah, sleep well, Chris.”
“Thank you,” he smiles before turning around. 
An idea brews in your head, a germ sprouted by the clear adoration in which Sowon gazed at her dad, and the disappointment in his face as he said he would no longer be making cookies. Had you wished to dig a little deeper, you would’ve also found a long-buried feeling of a little girl who would have loved holiday traditions as well. You close the door before heading straight to your kitchen. 
One hour later 
You knock softly on Chris’ door, fidgeting from one foot to another. You almost retract back to your apartment after your fourth knock, when the door finally opens, Chris coming into your line of sight. 
“Hi,” you greet, hands behind your back. 
“Hey,” he smiles, leaning his arm on the doorway, right above your head. He tilts his head to the side, silently wondering what you want. The words dissolve in your mouth at the way his eyes fixate on you as if trying to peer behind your irises onto your mind. 
“Cookies,” you bring the plate before him, as his eyes grow wide, an incredulous smile drawn on his lips. 
“You made them?” 
“Yeah, didn't want Sowon to be disappointed,” you shrug and his eyes grow wild, racking all over your face in disbelief. 
“You didn't have to do this,” he finally says, tone softening, syllables ringing like a sweet sonnet in your ears. 
“I know. I wanted to. and I'm a baker so making cookies comes easily to me, don't worry about it,” you shrug sheepishly, biting your lower lip slightly. You felt scrutinized by him in ways you haven't felt before. 
“Thank you, Yn, I don’t even know what to say,” he says, his smile resembling a beam of light. A surge of pride courses through you at managing to bring it forth. 
“No need to say anything. I hope I didn't wake you up,” you smile sheepishly and he shakes his head. 
“No, I- I was working in my studio and Sowon is asleep. It's just us two. Always has been,” he adds, tone slightly changing, air growing heavier between you both. It's just them two. 
“Studio?” you inquire, hoping to dispel the tension latching around you both. 
“I'm a music producer,” he clarifies. “I made a studio here so I could stay the night with Sowon.” 
“I'm sure she appreciates that,” you say as you hand the plate to him. His fingertips brush against your own, and a slight electricity courses through you at the touch, the hallway suddenly brighter from the fireworks ricocheting off of you both.
“I…. I'll get going.”
“Yeah, yeah, don't want to take more of your time.”
“I'll see you around.” 
“Yeah, I'll see you,” he says, words not ringing carelessly into the air, sounding more like a promise. He'll see you, he'll make sure of it. 
ii. 
“Can you wait!” a voice echoes near the building entrance, and you prevent the elevator doors from closing as hurried steps near you. 
You recognize the voice easily by the light tingles running down your spine, the Australian accent shooting straight through your heart. Its owner materializes, Chris— leather jacket hugging his muscles snuggly, black t-shirt tucked into a pair of blue jeans, cap nestled on his head, rebellious strands of ebony hair peeking behind it.
You find the breath knocked out of you once again at his sight. He's beautiful, even more so in broad daylight, where every feature of his comes to life, beckoning, demanding your sole attention. 
“Hey, Yn,” he smiles in delight, uttering your name in a familiarity that infuses your being with warmth. Even though you've only talked once, two days ago. 
“Hey, Chris,” you greet back, pressing the fourth elevator button again. you face the mirror to find Chris already looking at you, his eyes instantly locking with yours. 
“The cookies were good,” he smiles softly and you grin. “I'm glad you think so.” 
“Where is your bakery? I need to taste more of your baking.” 
The butterflies in your stomach tone down at his words, your attraction momentarily forgotten as gratitude coats your heart instead.
“I can text you the address?” you propose. 
“Yeah, here,” he takes out his phone, a picture of him and Sowon set as his lock screen— their cheeks are pressed tightly to one another, messily done eyeliner on both their eyes. you giggle to yourself as you grab the device.
“Cute picture,” you muse and he brings an arm to his neck, scratching the side of it timidly. 
“She insists on trying her makeup on me.” 
“She makes you look better,” you giggle and he rolls his eyes, tongue poking against his cheek. 
“She wants to become a stylist,” he explains, as the elevator doors open. He lets you out first, arm stretched forward.
“I find her passion really cute so I buy her anything she asks for,” he shrugs and you chuckle, pointing to the bag of pink ribbons he is carrying. 
“Let me guess, she wants to use these on you?”
“Yeah. She also said that I quote ‘need to learn new hairstyles because her friends always come to class with intricate braids, and she can't go to class with a simple one.’” He repeats, tone growing slightly high-pitched as he mimics his daughter's words. Yet, the fond smile on his face is louder, screaming of his love for her. 
“She has you wrapped around your finger,” you muse, leaning against your door. The keys in your bag are long forgotten. 
“She can be very scary for such a little girl.” 
“What does she threaten you with?” you ask, feigning horror. 
“No goodnight kisses,” he whispers, as if scared she'd hear him beyond the wooden door. 
“Torture,” you gasp, placing your hand on his shoulder reassuringly. Yet, the smiles slip out of your face instantly. Was it normal for clothes to dissolve under your touch, layers of cotton and leather doing nothing to stop the warmth of his skin from seeping through you? Was it normal to be so affected by such an innocent touch? 
“Uhm,” you clear your throat, “I can help you. with her hair, I mean.” 
“You don't have to. I already took too much from your time with the cookies,” he seems truly apologetic, his tone sobering as if despising others doing things for him. You see yourself in him, in the way he wants to carry the world’s burden on his shoulders. It is a reflection you wish to mend. 
“I don't mind, I remember feeling jealous of the other girls in my school so I made myself learn all the braids.” 
And then you see his gratefulness, the twinkle in his eyes that you can only grasp for a millisecond before they disappear into moon crescents. Happiness looks grand on him, overtaking his entire face, brightening his features with a glow too ethereal to be of mankind, as if they were carved to translate joy. You find yourself willing to give up more of your time to see it.
“Thank you,” he breathes out and you nod, a grin taking over your face as well. 
“You’re welcome. Let me just change my clothes.” 
☃︎⋆꙳•❅
“And then, you pull the right strand all over to the middle one. Then you repeat, this way the ribbon is braided into the hair,” you explain to a very concentrated Chris, his eyebrows furrowed as he follows your movements. 
“It looks easy when you do it,” he frowns and you giggle, handing the mirror to Sowon so she'd be able to look at her hair. 
“Do you like it,” you ask, a tad apprehensive and she beams, dimples that almost swallow her chubby cheeks surging forth. 
“Pretty!” she exclaims and you giggle, bopping her nose. “You are pretty.”
“And you are pretty too. right, daddy?”
You turn back to find Chris watching you, a smile so fond on his face that it renders your insides putty, coats your cheek in the palest shade of pink.
“Very much so,” he says, tone quieter, his eyes never leaving yours. 
Sowon suddenly climbs on her dad’s lap, star and moon stickers in hand. She places them all over his face, and he sits there diligently, arms wrapped around her midriff so she won't slip away. Every carefully placed sticker is punctuated by a soft gasp from him and a small giggle from her. You could feel the love radiating from both of them, a feeling so strong it made your heart twist in your chest. 
Were there red neon exits you weren’t aware of in your being? Ones through which love trickled away all these years ago? Were the spaces between your fingers carved to hold someone’s hand, or to make everything you've ever wanted slip from your grasp?
“What do you think?” Sowon startles you and you force a smile on your face, willing the heaviness in your heart to dissipate. There were questions you'd never find the answers to, you had to make peace with that.
“I love it!” you grin and Sowon nods, satisfied. You look down at your lap as Chris fixates his eyes on you, a worried crease growing between his eyebrows. 
“Fun is over, you need to do your homework, Miss Bang,” he scolds and you snort, as Sowon rolls her eyes slightly. 
“Did you just roll your eyes at me?” he fakes offense and you giggle as Sowon huffs slightly. “Dad, I told you I have no homework. I already did it with uncle Felix.” 
“Oh, right,” he deflates slightly before brightening up once again, “then, you should put away all these hairbrushes and ribbons, okay?”
“Will you watch a movie later with me?”
“Of course, baby.”
“Okay then,” she grins, quickly standing up to start putting away her things. you smile, getting up your turn to leave. Chris understands and stands with you on cue. 
“You can stay and watch the movie with us.”
“It's okay, I have some things to work on,” you turn around, but then you feel his fingers wrapping around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. 
“Are you okay?” he asks, hand still burning straight through your skin, igniting a million nerve ends with a simple touch. You avoid his eyes, looking down at the ground. It seems to be response enough for him. 
“We’re conditioned to say yes even when we aren’t, right?” he speaks softly, his words travel through your veins in a rapid course against the current of your blood— which one will reach your heart first and flood it? 
Your facade cracks. His voice wins. 
“So, you don't have to reply now,” his thumb swipes once across your pulse. “But I'll be here if you ever wish to tell the truth.” 
iii.
You’ve grown exceptionally fond of Chris in the span of mere months, more than you would like to admit to yourself. It was an easy task, as natural as the current of a waterfall. Yet, you did not plan for it, for a new emotion to settle on top of your lungs, to make you more aware of your heart and how it beats, slightly faster, around Chris. But it happened serendipitously, against all odds, when he knocked on your door at 10 p.m. asking for salt.
“Should I start buying groceries for you?” you joked, and it took Chris a millisecond longer to respond, his gaze wandering across your face, as if discovering the world’s eighth wonder, hidden in plain sight all these years. 
“For my defense, I have a daughter that likes experimenting with cooking,” he smiled, and you raised an eyebrow at him. 
“Just with salt?”
“She added four teaspoons of it in an omelet. Then forced me to eat it because I always tell her food shouldn't go to waste,” he shudders at the memory and you chuckle loudly. 
Chris knocks on the doors of your heart, once.
It happened when you spotted a cockroach the size of your palm on your bedroom wall. You would’ve killed it, you were going to, except it started flying towards you and you let out a loud shriek you didn’t know your vocal chords were capable of conjuring. So, you called Chris. 
“Can you please come over,” you murmured, crouching near the entrance door, a pair of slippers in your hand.
“Why are you whispering? are you okay?” he sounded worried, and you heard the turning of a lock as he opened the door to his apartment. He didn’t ask questions, instantly coming to your aid. A sudden urge to weep filled your being at his gesture. 
“There is a cockroach. a flying one,” you precised, horror dripping from your tongue and his laugh flooded your ear, tiny squeaks that made your hold on the slipper grow limp. 
“I'm from Australia,” he knocked on your door, and you stood up promptly. “I've seen worse,” he said once you finally opened it, his eyes softening incredibly when they met yours. 
He did kill the cockroach, by spraying your insect repellent enough times to asphyxiate you too. “I don't think I can sleep in there tonight,” you sighed, gulping down ice cold water, “why does it feel like we went through war?” 
“We? You were behind my back all the time.”
 “I was cheering you on, from afar. Spiritually.”
 “I can’t believe a cockroach scares you this much.”
 “You literally screamed when it flied towards you too.”
 “I didn't scream! I made a very manly, non-terrified sound.”
 “Mm, sure,” you giggled, voice softening at the blushing of the tip of his ears. Chris didn't have to force the door down to your heart, you willingly opened it for him. 
And after that, it was a race to find the silliest excuses to see one another. Chris suddenly taking up an inkling for baking, you manifesting a newfound interest in music, Sowon needing her makeup done for a dance, Chris visiting you in your bakery, Sowon craving your cookies and you teaching her the recipe, Chris knocking on your door and you knocking on his. The same giddy smiles on your faces as you usher each other in. And it always, always ending with a movie night. 
“Let's watch Tangled,” Sowon exclaims, clapping her hands excitedly. 
“Baby, we watched this movie for the past…” he looks at you for support. “Three,” you whisper, a bashful smile on your face. “Yeah, for the past three movie nights,” he whines slightly.
“But I love it,” she says, her pout morphing into a huge grin. “Again! Again! Again!”
“Fine,” he concedes, mouthing “save me,” from afar to you. You giggle softly while Sowon cozies up to your side, your arm naturally draping across her body while her legs stretch atop Chris’ lap, naturally, as if having you both by her side was the way things have always been. The only reality she’s ever known.
It is a fleeting fifty minutes as the three of you watch the movie, Sowon reciting excitedly the lines that she seems to remember. But then the quiet is replaced by her soft snores, her body growing light against you.
“She fell asleep,” you whisper, tapping Chris’ shoulder to catch his attention. He tilts his head to the side, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips as his eyes land on his daughter. 
“I'm sorry you have to watch the same movie every time,” he says apologetically and you shake your head. 
“I don't mind. Tangled is a good movie.” 
“Are you here just because of the movie?” he smiles, dimples peeking through. The juxtaposition between the weight of his words and the soft expression on his face makes a buzzing warmth spread through you. He’s cold and hot, in and out, yours but not. 
“What do you want me to be here for?” you throw back, squeezing his shoulder slightly. 
“The company.”
“I do find Sowon entertaining.”
“Just her?” he pouts and you giggle, tipping your head back. 
“And you too, I suppose, by extension.”
“By extension, mm,” he hums, as he gathers Sowon in his arms, freeing her from your hold. “Then I guess I shouldn't come visit you in your bakery anymore. Since you only enjoy my presence by extension.”
“So sassy,” you shout-whisper as you both walk to Sowon's bedroom, “I like your company too, idiot.” 
“Yeah?” he turns back to look at you, tone a tad bit too hopeful. He doesn’t care that he sounds eager for your approval, not when he feels as if he can only truly breathe when you're near. 
“Yeah, Chris, I really do,” you speak earnestly, and Chris bites his lower lip slightly, suddenly overwhelmed by the gentleness of your tone. Your eyes follow his action instantly. 
He lowers Sowon gently onto the bed and she stirs awake, blinking repeatedly at the both of you. “Yn,” she calls out quietly once her eyes land on yours and you kneel before her bed. Chris watches from the door entrance as Sowon cups her hand near your ear, before whispering something to you. He notices your body stiffening, your gaze fleeting to him before you relax, pressing a kiss to her cheek. 
He wishes he could freeze time, stitch this moment into his eyelids until it is the only thing he sees when he goes to sleep. Loneliness is too big of an enemy for one person to fight off, but it seems more harmless when you are near. 
Chris sees you right here, every night, not forcing your place into his family, but falling seamlessly into place. Perhaps you were the missing piece that’ll soothe the burn in his heart. Perhaps he’d let you in, even as fear paralyzes his being at the mere thought of asking you to stay. 
One week later. 
You've grown used to the knocks on your door at ungodly hours of the night, Chris seeking your company each time you both fail to fall asleep. Except this time, there is a chilling premonition in your heart as you walk to your home’s entrance, anxiety coiling like a steel ball in your throat. 
“What’s wrong?” you ask upon opening the door, locking eyes with Chris's bloodshot gaze.
“Sowon,” he heaves, tone laden with fear, so different from how he usually pronounces her name. The syllables pierce through your heart like an arrowhead dipped in alarm. 
“Sowon?” you question, peering behind him to his slightly ajar apartment door.
“Yes, she has a high fever, and it won’t come down. I tried everything, and I-I don’t know what to do anymore. She’s shaking, but I can’t—”He trembles, his quivers akin to delicate chinaware on the precipice of an earthquake, poised to shatter at your feet. You'd plunge to the ground first, anything to soften his impending collapse.  
“It’s okay,” you soothe, your voice soft as you grasp his wrist. “Let’s go see her, okay?”
“It's her first time being this sick,” he whispers, clearly distraught, one hand running through his freshly dyed blonde hair. 
“It's okay. Don’t panic, it happens. Did you give her medicine?”
“Yes, a few minutes ago,” he replies as you guide him towards her room.
“Good, it'll start working soon,” you reassure, opening the door and crouching before Sowon.
“Hey, Rapunzel,” you coo softly, and Sowon attempts to muster a smile. Her cheeks flush, eyes dim like withered petals.
“How are you feeling?” you ask, pressing your hand to her feverish forehead. You cast a wary glance at Chan, who's anxiously biting his thumb.
“Cold,” she whispers, and you nod, peeling off her blanket. “I know you are, but you have a high fever. We need to let it cool down, okay?”
“I-I’m shaking,” Sowon sighs, lower lip protruding and trembling, both from the iciness clawing at her frail being, and the tears welling in her waterline, like a cup on the brink of overflowing. 
“Shh, don't cry. It will pass, it's okay,” you murmur soothingly, cradling her face on your lap, gently moving damp strands of her hair behind her ear.
“Chris, can you bring me a towel and a bowl with cold water?” you ask softly, and the man startles, painfully peeling his eyes away from his daughter, as if doing so would consign her to a dark fate.
“Sure. Sure,” he repeats, scurrying out of the room.
Sowon buries her cheek in your thigh, small hands clinging tightly to yours. You tie her hair up into a loose bun as Chan hurriedly comes back, a bassinet in his hand.
“Thank you,” you smile, as he kneels beside the bed, his hand resting on Sowon’s knee gently.
“Hey sweetheart,” he coos softly, and Sowon blinks at him, light spilling over her face. 
“Hey daddy,” she replies as you dip the towel into the water, before squeezing the fabric to remove any liquid excess. 
“You're being so strong. I love you so much my pretty girl,” he says, bringing her small hand to rest upon his cheek, bestowing a gentle kiss on her palm. 
The moment feels so intimate, so tender, that you almost feel like an intruder. You imagine this is what thorns on roses must feel like, so out of place amid delicate petals and stems. 
“I love you too,” she grins, and you remain silent, diligently wiping her face and neck with the dampened towel. You soon lose track of the number of times you've repeated this motion, but Sowon’s eyes are now closed and her body is no longer trembling. 
You rest your palm upon her forehead, a sigh of relief escaping your body as you realize that her fever has gone down noticeably- the medicine finally taking effect.
“It's better now,” you smile reassuringly and Chris’s eyes widen, irises shaking as he looks back to his daughter. 
“Will she be okay?” 
“She will be. She just needs to sleep a bit.” 
“Okay, thank you.” 
“Can we prepare her something to eat meanwhile?” 
“Mm,” he absentmindedly nods, his fingers trailing down Sowon’s features delicately, resting upon her round cheeks. 
"She looks just like you," you softly smile.
"I know," he admits, not with pride but in surrender, as if his reflection was nothing but a cursed fate. His voice tastes like ocean water, salty, acid, suffocating.
“Chris…” you trail off and he shakes his head, abruptly standing up. 
“Let's make her chicken noodle soup. She loves it,” he says and you nod. A ticking bomb resides in his veins, devoid of a countdown, leaving you unsure of when he'll finally explode. 
You get your answer soon after—it takes two minutes and thirty-three seconds for the first tear to roll down Chris’s cheek. You spot it as you retrieve carrots from the fridge, averting your gaze as Chan angrily wipes it away.
A few seconds later, five tears follow the same agonizing trail, and now the knife is shaking in Chris’s hands. He squeezes his eyes shut as if frustrated by his pain, by the emotions escaping through the cracks in his heart.
You stay silent, bringing the water to a simmer.
The clank of metal against the counter snaps your attention, and you see Chris with his head lowered down, his hands tightly clutching the counter.
Your tongue moves before you can order it to speak. 
"Chris," you call out, your hand finding its place on his back. An ugly sob escapes his lips, a raw cry unearthed from the depths of the soil where he buried his feelings, never allowing himself the grace of grieving, then moving on. 
“I'm a horrible father,” he utters so brokenly as if this idea were cemented into his head, woven into every thought of himself—an adjective that lingers like a phantom each time Sowon calls him dad.
“You're not, what are you saying?” you gently turn him around so he'd face you. But his eyes remain downcast, as if ashamed to meet your gaze. 
“I didn't know what to do. I panicked. I-I wasn't enough to help her.”
“It's okay, you can't know everything, you are trying your best-”
“No, no, no, it's not just about this!” he snaps,  despair clinging to his eyes as he finally looks at you. “It’s hard. It’s so hard to be here alone, and I- I try but it's not enough, I can't do everything and I'm not a good enough parent for her, there will a-always be something missing.” 
“You're wrong,” you say but he shakes his head in disagreement. “Chris, you're wrong,” you cradle his face, taking you both by surprise. Your thumb swipes gently underneath the skin of his eyes, wiping his cascading tears. 
“You love Sowon. And she can feel it, she can see it, she can hear it. Everyone can. A parent can't be perfect, but they should love. And you love her.” 
“What if I can't even love her enough for a father? How will I ever fill the role of two parents?” he's leaning onto your palm, hanging onto your every word. You'd sit for hours and untangle every thread of his mind if you have to, until you single out the infested one and burn it away. 
“She loves you Chris. She looks at you as if you hang every star in the sky. As if you're responsible for every good thing that happens in our world. She loves you and you love her.”
You gaze up at the ceiling, tears welling in your eyes. Chan notices the subtle tremble in your hand against his cheek.
“If I had someone who loved me as much as you love Sowon when I was a child, I would've turned out so differently,” you smile bitterly, swallowing down the lump in your throat. 
“You won't be a perfect dad. You can't be. But she won't grow up with a throbbing heart, pulsating because of a void that cannot be filled. Her veins won't be poisoned by hate and abandonment. Because she knows what it's like to be loved,” you pause, as your voice breaks, traitorous tears rolling down your cheeks. “To be cared for.” 
Your eyes hold his in a silent conversation, secretly telling him what your tongue cannot speak of— Sowon, an untarnished blossom, won't unfurl into a solitary flower the way you did.
“I'm sorry,” he whispers after a while, eyes softening in understanding. His knuckles brush gently against your cheek. 
“Why are you apologizing?” 
“So you'd find a reason within you to forgive,” he says, as he leans forward to press a tender kiss on your forehead. And somehow it feels more intimate than any way you've been touched before. 
Five days later.
chris [11:32 p.m.]: you up?
yn [11:32 p.m.]: i just got bad flashbacks to my college years
chris [11:33 p.m.]: ajaksjsbsbbs
chris [11:33 p.m.]: i didn’t mean it like that ㅠㅠ 
chris [11:33 p.m.]: wanna come over? i'm in the studio but im not feeling inspired 
yn [11:34 p.m.]: and how will i help? 
chris [11:34 p.m.]: i find your presence inspiring 
You don’t reply, instead putting on your slippers and walking over to his apartment. He opens the door before you even have the chance to knock. 
“What are you working on?” you ask once you’re settled atop his chair, spinning around slightly. He looks down at the pillow on his lap, lightly plucking its pink fur. “A song for Sowon,” he admits softly and your eyes grow a little wide. 
“That is so sweet,” you pout, inching closer to him. “How is it going?”
“I've finished the melody and now I'm working on the lyrics. There is just.. so much i want to tell her, i'm unsure if ill be able to express it well.” 
“Can I read what you wrote?” 
“Yeah. Yeah, sure,” he searches through his papers. “Here.”
May these words be the first to find your ears
The world is brighter than the sun now that you're here
I'll give you everything I have
I'll teach you everything I know
I promise I'll do better
I will soften every edge
I'll hold the world to its best
And I'll do better
Tears spring to your eyes unexpectedly, you try to stop their flow but they fall upon the paper, splattering like a broken mosaic, mimicking the brokenness of your own heart. 
“I'm sorry,” you spin around, your back to him as you attempt to dry your tears, and yet they show no desire to stop. Chris is in your heart and he’s kicking every other emotion out, forcing you to make amends with your sadness, the one you buried years, years ago. 
Chris gently grabs the back of the chair, pulling you back to him before spinning your chair once again until you are facing him. You bury your face in your hands and his rests reassuringly on your knee, squeezing it slightly. “Is it so bad it made you sob?” 
“Shut up, you know this isn’t the case.” 
His hand delicately traces up your arm, gently lifting your fingers from your face. He kneels before you, his thumb tenderly wiping away the traces of tears on your cheeks.
“Talk to me?” 
“It's so beautiful, so warm, so loving. Everything a parent should think of their child,” a traitorous hiccup escapes your lips. “Everything my parents never felt for me.” 
Chris’ mouth morphs into a pout, eyebrows scrunching tightly. You shake your head, smoothing down the worried crease between his eyes. 
“I don't feel sad over things I can't control and I love myself enough now to compensate for what I didn't have, but sometimes-'' your voice breaks, Chan’s hold on your hands tightens. “It stings to remember what could’ve been.” 
Stings was an understatement, it is rather a pulsating void, throbbing in ache every day, calling out for its missing piece. How can I fill you with what was lost when it chose to walk away? 
“Come here,” he whispers, coaxing you to your feet, his arms enveloping your body as he guides your head to the crook of his neck. His body runs warm, the material of his sweatshirt soft, and he smells nice too, the contours of his muscles tailor-made to complement the ridges of your own. 
“You grew up well, Yn. You did well.”
You clutch his shirt, tightening your grip as you fist the fabric in your palm. He's patting your back, and time slows down to match the rhythm of his touch. 
“Love can be hard, I know. Especially when the people who left are the ones supposed to be staying.” 
He understands, more than anyone you know. He missed out on a different kind of love too, two facets of the same coin. 
“You’re doing well too, Chris. You shouldn’t doubt yourself as much,” your arms trail up to encircle his neck, as his nose tickles your hair. You're the one hugging him now. “Sowon is really smart, she told me that she loves you a lot. She can feel it. She sees everything you do for her.”
“Is that what she told you that movie night?”
“Partly,” you whisper, and Chris leans away slightly, his warm palms still pressed to your waist, holding you close. 
“What else did she tell you?” he asks, curiosity barely hidden in his tone.
You pause for a while, eyes going over the entire room before finally locking on him.
“She thanked me, said that I make you smile more.” You suck in a deep breath, gathering your courage. “Do I?” 
“There are smile lines that don’t show on my face until you're near.” 
“Oh.” That is the only coherent response you can formulate, and Chris giggles, a tiny squeak escaping his lips in a huff. “Cute,” he murmurs, planting a tender kiss on your temple. His lips linger, holding onto the moment a beat longer than necessary, causing your eyes to close in delight. Both of you find yourselves blushing as he leans away, a shared warmth coloring the space between you.
“Sorry, didn't mean to make the mood somber,” you say sheepishly as you sit back down, eyeing Chris’s laptop. “I wanna hear this,” you quickly point to a random track on his screen before he can reply, hoping to make the sadness flee away.
“This one? It’s not really good, let's listen to something else,” his rambling and eagerness to change the track pique your curiosity and you quickly click on the song before he can stop you.
connected.mp3 starts playing. 
Sultry beats inundate your ears, weaving through your veins and whisking you away to the pulsating rhythm of a dance club. You knew Chris produced good music, yet you never fathomed that his voice could be so luxuriously rich, cascading over you like molten wax. You feel a blush rise to your cheeks at the suggestive lyrics, the innuendos peeking behind every word. And then, a sudden jealousy claws at your heart, at the thought of Chris hunched in his studio, fantasizing about connecting with someone who isn’t you. 
You wished to be the only one Chris liked. 
“It’s a- a demo for one of my clients,” he explains through a stutter once the song is done, and you nod meekly, willing your body’s temperature to go down, for the possessivity crinkling in you to fizzle out. 
So, you put on your best taunting smirk.
“I know you want me don’t crumble.. No need to be desperate we’re just getting started,” you sing-song back. “You were feeling so cocky when you wrote this, right?” you grin, inching your chair closer to his. “Feeling yourself, Mr. Bang?”
He chuckles with a hint of annoyance, running his tongue along the expanse of his lower lip. Leaning back into his chair, he casually spreads his legs a bit wider, a gesture that suddenly leaves you feeling dizzy, on him.
“It’s cute how affected you seem by it,” he throws nonchalantly, crossing his arms before his chest.
“I'm not,” you smile, although your erratic heartbeat spoke of a different tale, you just didn't need to voice it to him. “I think you were the one getting all hot and bothered in your studio,” you stand between his legs, hovering over him as he leans back fully in his chair. 
“I was thinking of a pretty girl.”
“Yeah?”
“Mm,” he suddenly grabs your waist, you feel like your entire body is ablaze. “The prettiest.”
"Who is she?" you exhale, teetering on the edge of crashing your lips onto his, like an incoherent love poem, hastily scrambled on a notebook in a fit of anger.
“y–” The door suddenly opens, Sowon’s small frame standing by the door, she’s rubbing her eyes tiredly, her chick plushie dangling from her hand (a gift from her uncle Felix as she explained to you). You quickly scramble away from Chris as he clears his throat loudly.
“Daddy, I can't sleep,” she says faintly, a tiny pout drawn on her lips, and you can see Chris physically melt at her words, at the way she paddles to his chair, and tries her best to climb up his legs. She fails to do so, so he quickly scopes her up his arms until she’s buried in his hold. Her small hands wound up around his neck, and he tenderly pats down her hair, his gaze never wavering from her frame.
“Want me to sing to you, sweetheart?”
“Yes,” she whispers, before making grabby hands at you, your heart softens like clay dough as you scoot closer, enclosing her fingers in your hold. 
“Sleep well, Sowonnie,” you whisper. 
“Can’t you stay with us?” she asks and you feel your blood freeze in your veins, your heart skipping three beats at once.
To stay. What a frightening concept. Even more scary when you realize that you aren’t opposed to it. 
You yearn to stay, for the first time in years, you wish you could. 
You swallow the growing lump in your throat, before smiling reassuringly. “I'll stay till you fall asleep.” 
Conditions, it is the way it has always been for you. staying till you’re no longer useful, staying till you're no longer wanted. Staying, but always with a time limit, always with an expiration date. 
iv. 
You’re avoiding him. 
Chris knows you are, since you no longer come over to his house, claiming that you’re tired, or that you have an important order to bake for the next day. He would have believed you had he not seen you only once in the past three weeks. 
Those were excuses, and each one of them weighed heavily on Chris’ heart, on his home too, his studio particularly, the one that got used to the sound of your laugh. 
He misses you. He never thought he’d miss someone again, craving you presence as if every breath leaving his body depended on you. He wasn’t a stranger to intimacy, fleeting hookups every now and then. Strangers invited him to their bed, knowing what they were signing up for– one night of pleasure, never to be seen again, their faces blurring into an indistinct mass in his mind, like an impressionist painting where no features stand out. Yet, with you, every detail is etched in his memory. 
He could pick you out of a crowded room, recognize the delicate curve of your neck, the fullness of your lips, and the way your nose scrunches when you smile.
He could draw the moles scattered on your body from memory alone, recognize your scent from miles away– your cotton shampoo and the specific laundry detergent you love to use and a hint of vanilla that never truly leaves you. 
He’d remember the curve of your lashes and the cascading of your hair, the airy giggles you leave across like a trail for him to follow everywhere, and your eyes– the way they gazed at him, softening slightly around the edges, shining brightly as if crafted from stardust, the way they softened even more when you looked at Sowon, voice growing slightly high pitched as you listened to his daughter’s rambles.
How did you manage to make his home yours without ever living in it?
“Dad?” Sowon calls out and he snaps his head up, locking eyes with his little girl. She’s sitting on a high stool, munching on her pizza, a pensive look on her face.
“Yes, sweetheart?” he asks, walking over to her side.
“Where is Ynnie?” she asks in a small voice and he freezes, mulling over his response. He settles for the truth.
“I don't know, baby.”
“Does she not want to play with me anymore?” Sowon whispers, and he doesn’t remember his daughter ever being this tentative about voicing a question. 
“No!” he's quick to reassure, cradling Sowon’s face between his much larger hands. “Of course not baby she loves you a lot.”
“Okay…” she nods, a small pout drawn on her lips still. Chris senses his heart physically crack in his chest.
“Do you wanna work in the studio with me?” he says in a joyful tone, and she instantly cheers up, the twinkle in her eyes found again. “Yes!” 
“Finish your food first, okay Wonnie?” 
“Okay!” 
In Chris's life, regrets have been scarce, and certainly not in the form of Sowon, his beacon of hope, as he named her. Having her was beholding a sun wherever he went. However, a fear lingers, a whisper in his heart, suggesting that letting you go might be his one true regret.
So when his daughter falls asleep, he knocks on your door once again. He's suddenly transported into that cold night, months ago, where he asked you for flour. Had he known you were behind it he would’ve knocked much sooner. 
“Hi,” you greet softly once you open the door. He takes a step forward, his wolf slippers matching with Sowon’s bump into your plain ones. You avert your gaze, finding anything but him to fixate on.
“You're avoiding me,” he says matter-of-factly, voice soft, resigning to you.
“I'm not,” you contradict, even as your eyes remain on the ground. He finds himself missing the color of your irises.
"Look at me, hm?" he implores, and you stay rooted in place. A soft sigh escapes him as he cradles your right cheek with his warm hand, his thumb gently sweeping across your cheekbone. "Yn, please, I want to look at you."
Maybe it is the pleading tone of his voice or the way his thumb tenderly grazes your skin, but something about Chris makes your resolve unravel, threads of fear unknotting before your eyes. So, you finally look at him. An exhale of relief escapes him. 
And then you speak.
“You asked me if I was okay, and I didn't reply, back then,” you say, leaning your head further against his palm as tears well up in your waterline. “Do you still want to know my answer?”
“Of course, always.”
“I'm happy. With you, with sowon. I feel this warmth that I have never known before when I'm with you. It was almost easy to forget I've known you during winter,” you chuckle dryly, “but it is all an illusion, I lie to myself thinking I could stay, I… I can't, I-“
“What if I ask you to stay?” he brings your hand to his heart, where it beats erratically, pulse seeping through your skin.
He’s as scared as you are.
“Chris…”
“What if I told you, Yn, please stay with me,” he breathes out, guiding your hand to gently cup his cheek. “Would you? Would you stay?”
“I'm terrified,” you whisper, as he tilts his head, bestowing a tender kiss on your palm. 
“I know, so am I. But, you make me believe that even my bruised parts are worthy of love.”
He wins, before years of skeletons and piled up doubts, he wins. 
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“I'm staying.”
“You are?”
“I am,” you giggle lightly and he staggers back, the sun pouring into his smile. 
“Um, wow, okay. Thank you for staying,” his voice sounds airy, happiness floating in his tone, and you find it contagious, imprinting into your own.
“Thank you for asking me to stay.”
“You made it less daunting,” he pats your head, smoothing your hair down. “I missed you.”
“I missed you too.”
He giggles in response and you can't help but mirror the sound. “Why are you so nervous?”
“Whaaat? I'm not,” his tone grows high-pitched and you roll your eyes amusedly. 
“What happened to connected Chris?” 
“He is flustered by the girl he wrote about.”
Your cheeks tint red as he places a hand above your head, caging you in place. 
“I think the girl should get paid for being the muse.”
“Oh yeah?” he smirks, “I'll think about it.” His grin softens, as a content expression washes over his face. You know you must look the same. “Let's talk more tomorrow, okay?”
“Okay,” you grin, before placing a chaste kiss on his cheek. “Good night, Chris.”
“Good night, yn.”
You quietly watch as he walks to his apartment door, his hand settling on the door knob. He pauses, for a few seconds where the air around you stills, before swiveling around and walking over to you again. 
you win. 
“I forgot something,” he breathes out, before crashing his lips onto yours, furiously, as if needing to imprint his essence onto you, tainting your soul the way you have tainted him, permanently altering the composition of his being. His lips move on yours as if they've done this before, a dance they have rehearsed countless times, perhaps in all the dreams Chris visited you in. Yet, nothing compares to how it feels to have him touch you, lick your lower lip and drag his hand up your hips, press you against your apartment door, and nibble at your neck. 
Nothing could have prepared you for the passion he shows you, for how delicious it feels to be pressed against him, for the storm that your lips conjure, swirling in your heart in vibrant shades of red. Then, for the softness of his lips as they slow down their course, plump and rosy as they meet your own, tenderly, more gently, one kiss after the other. “My hope,” he whispers, as his lips find yours again, “my missing piece.”
He’s hot and cold, in yet seeking no out, finally yours.
bonus (one year later). 
“So I brought the eggs, milk, sugar,” Chris enumerates as he takes out the groceries, and you turn to look at Sowon to find her already gazing at you, a mischievous look on her face. 
“How much do you wanna bet he forgot flour?” you whisper and she giggles, burying her face in her hands to stifle her laugh.
“And… Wait, where is the flour?” he trails off and you burst out laughing, as you and Sowon high-five each other excitedly. 
“Daddy, you are really bad at groceries.”
“Am I?” he smiles sheepishly, fiddling with his earlobe in a manner that still makes your heart melt, renders your insides butterflies speaking of Chris’ name.
“Yes, it’s good Mom bought it,” she says naturally, looking down at her iPad. You and Chris freeze in your tracks, eyes instantly locking with one another, yours and his, glossy with emotion, a loving tide enveloping you both. 
It's her first time calling you mom. 
You swallow down the lump in your throat, crafted not by thorns but by petals, not by ache but with love, before placing your chin on the small of her shoulder, murmuring softly. "Mm, will you help me bake, baby?"
“Yes! I wanna be a baker when I grow up, just like you.”
“What happened to being a stylist?”
“I can't be both?” she frowns innocently. 
“You can be anything you want, princess.” you bop her nose and she giggles, pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek. 
In the grip of winter, Chris discovers a warmth that defies the season, casting off years of cold from the recesses of his bones. A soft smile graces his lips as he gazes at you, his hopes, his girls, the three of you clad in wolf slippers.
He’ll propose to you tomorrow.
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povlnfour · 21 days
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ੈ✩‧₊˚ EVERYBODY TALKS (LN4)
pairing: lando norris x f!reader
summary: lando eventually lands the girl of his dreams. he also finds out just how fast news travels
a/n: this was one of my wips i posted foREVER ago so enjoy the full one shot whilst i finish off some written stuff. based on everybody talks by neon trees🙇‍♀️🤍
*faceclaim (but imagine as you see her fit) is millie hannah
landonorris just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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landonorris boo’s birthday
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alex_albon here’s a thought stop calling her your boo and actually make her your boo
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user did anyone else see that comment or am i making things up
user bro just ask her out i swear to god
user last photo is feeling very intimate mr. norris
alex_albon happy birthday y/n/n, please don’t get me super drunk tomorrow
user i saw that last comment mr ur not slick
yourusername no promises albono i intend to do a lot of shots
texts between lando and friends ੈ✩‧₊˚
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yourusername y/n’s big birthday bash🪩
👤 tagged landonorris, friend1 and 6 others
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landonorris did u run to the bathrooms just to post on instagram
yourusername stfu and order me shots
user is anyone else now thinking about how often y/n probably sees lando shirtless👁️👄👁️
user i’ve been thinking about it since she first posted that photo of him in the gym showing his abs
user @/user TAG ME IN THAT WTF
texts between lando and friends ੈ✩‧₊˚
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yourusername 💋
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user MA’AM YOU ARE UNBELIEVABLY ATTRACTIVE
lilymhe is that the lip combo i suggested because GIRL IT SUITS YOU
user lando MOVE i want her too
landonorris pretty
landonorris where are you off to?
yourusername meeting that friend i told you about on my bday!
y/n’s texts with lando ੈ✩‧₊˚
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landonorris just posted stories ੈ✩‧₊˚
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yourusername race days
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maxverstappen1 you’re a jinx. never come again
maxverstappen1 (it was lovely to see you)
yourusername hope you enjoyed your time in the garage🥰🥰
user come to every race you’re good luck
user personally if my best friend was super hot and came to cheer me on looking that good i’d cuff her but maybe lando’s different
yourusername nah he’s just oblivious
landonorris @/yourusername HUH
yourusername @/landonorris i said what i said
tmz just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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texts between lando and friends ੈ✩‧₊˚
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landonorris just tweeted ੈ✩‧₊˚
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yourusername responded: yes, literally everyone.
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landonorris lando: 1, friendzone: 0
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user FUCKIN FINALLY.
user @/yourusername i could treat you better
alex_albon you’re not really winning if you’ve been pining over her for two years mate
landonorris shut the fuck up before she sees this
yourusername @/landonorris TWO YEARS??? TWO YEARS AND YOU SAID NOTHING????
user uh oh. lando’s in trouble
————
a/n: this was… weak i apologise im still settling in😭 just wanted to put something out whilst i finish my charles/seb/lando written one shots eek!
as always any reblogs and whatnot appreciated. big love xx
- giselle
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cheolism · 4 months
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✧ warm
✧ kwon soonyoung x reader ✧ summary: you are so warm beneath the blankets and, like a moth drawn to a flame, soonyoung was helpless to resist your body. ✧ wc is approx. 2.6 k ✧ tags: established relationship, smut, sleepy sex. ✧ warnings: minors do not interact. top!hoshi, bottom!reader. drowning/suffocating at a metaphor. groping someone while they sleep but no actual sleep smut. unprotected sex, penetrative sex, fingering, oral. body worship n gentle sex. simp!hoshi, tit-lover!hoshi.
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you were warm.
soonyoung couldn't help but press ever closer, framing your body in his. he had one of his legs thrown over both of yours, an arm over your waist. and you were so warm, your body heat trapped beneath the blanket, especially compared to the cold winter air that bit at his bare skin as he shifted, exposing the bare skin of his shoulder.
he pressed his face into your neck, eyes fluttering shut as your warm scent flooded his system. you smelled like sleep, like you, like that distinct smell you got when you didn't shower the night before and slept in his arms after a night of love-making.
and soonyoung loved it.
he breathed you in, his hand sliding over your stomach. he mapped out your skin with his hand, feeling the smoothness of your body. soonyoung didn't really get the chance to do this when you were awake. you would get giggly, get bashful; he'd get horny and distracted.
so he took advantage; hand wandering over your warm body, just feeling you as he breathed in against your neck.
his hand ran up your stomach, fingertips skimming the curve of your tit. he paused for a moment, hesitating, knowing what would come if he touched your tit.
but he couldn't help it.
(one of these days soonyoung would get better at impulse control, he swore --
but today was not that day.
you were far too tempting a creature for him to even begin to think of resisting.)
soonyoung's hand traveled up to your tit. he groped at you lightly, thumb sliding over your nipple, pads of his fingers gently pressing at the meat of your tit. he wasn't touching with intent, wasn't doing anything other than just admiring the body of the person who owned him so completely.
(you'd argue against that statement. you didn't own him, you'd refute; he was his own being. soonyoung knew better. he was so completely, utterly, totally yours. he breathed to be yours, he existed to be yours. what was the point in being kwon soonyoung if he couldn't be yours?)
his fingers slid underneath your tit. soonyoung paused. you were slightly sweaty here, from the combination of his body heat with yours being trapped underneath the covers. but you were warm. you were so warm here, underneath your tit, and soonyoung just couldn't help himself.
head empty and cock swelling, soonyoung moved against you. he lowered himself, body completely covered by the blanket. soonyoung pressed his face against the curve of your tits, nosing along the curve of them, eyes fluttering shut as he basked in their warmth.
he slid his hand completely under your tit, fingers sinking into its warmth.
soonyoung laid like that for a handful of minutes, face resting on your tits and hand underneath one of them.
but he grew restless.
so he snuggled closer. he moved his hands from beneath your tits, framing your body. he pressed his face into the valley between your tits, pressing his nose against your warm skin. he was surrounded like this, completely surrounded in you.
soonyoung wished -- childishly -- that he could be a worm. and you would be the earth around him, surrounding him and he'd be entrapped in your being.
no. no, that wouldn't do --
he'd be a flower, soonyoung decided. and you the sun. you were too beautiful, too you to be dirt. he'd be a flower, you the sun, and he'd bask in your warmth.
soonyoung grinned against your skin.
feeling as though his heart was swelling to encompass his entire being, soonyoung moved his face to the right and nosed into the meat of your tit once again. this time he let himself be carried away. soonyoung began pressing kisses to your skin, his lips slightly chapped from the constant kissing of last night.
he didn't care. chapped lips meant nothing when it came to worshipping you.
soonyoung let his lips travel over your breast, his kisses soft. he began to move his body, bracing himself against the bed so he could reach more of your body. soonyoung crouched, blanket bracketing him. goosebumps pebbled on your skin, traveling over the curve of your tits, and soonyoung couldn't have that.
so he moved back down, curling his body. his mouth went back to your tits, his thick thighs framing your hips. soonyoung could feel his cock begin to throb, felt need begin to spark in his gut.
he ran his tongue against your breast, tasting the salt of your sweat. soonyoung pressed a loud and wet kiss to your tit before moving to your nipple, where he then couldn't help but lave his tongue against it.
while soonyoung's mouth worked against your breast, taking care to not be too aggressive as to wake you, his hand began to travel. he sought your warmth once more. this time his hand went to your thighs, smoothing over your skin. and then he tucked his hand between your thighs, not quite wedging it against your cunt but just enough to feel its warmth.
you're so fucking warm. so fucking warm and beautiful, so pliant beneath him. and he wanted. he wanted you carnally, wanted your hot cunt wrapped tight around his dick and milking it. wanted his face buried in your tits while he fucked into you, claiming your body again and again.
he had marked your body last night. soonyoung had left his finger marks on your hips, left bruises in the shape of his mouth on your thighs and neck. he had exhausted you -- even nights where he didn't divulge in his fantasies left you tired due to his seemingly endless stamina.
but soonyoung just couldn't help it. couldn't help himself but want and lust for more and more of you, yearn for that warmth that only your body could give.
so, sweetly and quietly, soonyoung moved his face up your body. he made sure to leave a trail of kisses. once he got to your neck he began sucking, and that was when you finally seemed to begin to wake. you let out soft moans, gentle little noises of pleasure.
he pressed his face into your neck, nose tucked into the hinge of your jaw. you were warm here, too.
"soonyoung," you breathed his name. immediately he couldn't help but begin pressing quick kisses to your skin, giddy as you woke beneath him. you tilted your face, allowing him more access to your neck, but did nothing otherwise.
soonyoung pulled back, watching you. your lashes fluttered against your cheeks, your cute tongue -- the same tongue that had laved against the head of his cock only last night -- poking out to swipe against your bottom lip.
"what're you doing?" your words are muffled slightly from sleep, eyes opening just enough for soonyoung to see your irises.
"loving you," he returned, giving you a grin. to accentuate his words soonyoung pressed a loud kiss to the base of your throat. "what are you doing, baby?"
"sleeping," you mumbled. your eyes opened wider, and soonyoung couldn't help but coo. you were so precious. he could see the universe in your eyes, could see his entire world. "isn't it too early for this?"
soonyoung cocked his head. "it's never too early for loving you, baby."
you scoffed lightly, eyes rolling shut once again.
soonyoung took this as your acceptance. so he moved from your face, letting his body sink further back into the blanket. he kept his mouth on you, face still pressed into your warmth. soonyoung kissed his way to the valley of your breasts, gave each tit attention in the form of kisses and bites and suckles. you moaned beneath him, hands moving from your sides to grab at his shoulders.
finally between your thighs, where he belonged in his humble opinion, soonyoung couldn't help his delight. he pressed his face to your stomach and breathed against you. he was close enough to your cunt that he could smell it.
he moved his free hand to join the one wedged between your thighs. soonyoung hooked his hands underneath your knees and raised them, throwing them over his shoulders.
his hands went back to your cunt. you had one arm thrown over your face, hiding your eyes; you had your lip trapped beneath your teeth.
warm, he thought as he bent closer to the bed. one of his hands slid deeper. he brushed the pads of his fingers along your pussy, just lingering in its warmth.
he moved his fingers up your pussy, circling around your mound. he didn't slip them into your wet heat yet.
you were growing restless beneath him. you squeezed his head between your thighs -- something that made the heat in his gut even worse, made it swell into something like an inferno he wanted to let consume him. "soonyoung," you begged, voice a whine.
soonyoung laughed, wordlessly obeying. he finally slipped his fingers into your cunt. it was wet, practically soaked, and warm. hot.
he let his fingers travel along your crevices aimlessly. let his forefinger glide against your little clit, poke at your hole. he was a musician tuning their instrument, preparing for the orchestra.
soonyoung's name left your mouth again in a whine.
"sorry," he laughed, and the pout you sent his way made him giggle further. soonyoung turned his head, pressing a kiss to your leg. "forgive me, baby?"
"depends," you said.
soonyoung grinned. he would have to make sure to play extra well to get your forgiveness.
so soonyoung moved to lay flat on the bed, face close to your cunt. he was drowning in your smell now, drowning in your warmth.
his mouth found your clit naturally. you tensed beneath him as his lips wrapped around it, suckling. his fingers went to your hole; a gush of wet greeted him, and it was far too easy for him to sink two of his fingers in.
you let out a short moan as his thick fingers breached you. you must have been sore still from the night before, soonyoung realized. so he took care to work you gently, tongue lapping at your clit and slobbering as his fingers crooked ever-deeper.
he sucked and laved his tongue over your clit and fuck, if it wasn't his favorite thing to do. surrounded by your warmth, chin drenched in your juices. if this wasn't his favorite place to be then --
soonyoung withdrew his fingers. the sound of them leaving your pussy was loud and wet. you grimaced, hips bucking up in an eager search. soonyoung made a surprised noise, face still buried in your pussy, your cunt drenching his face further.
"baby!" he scolded you, though his heart wasn't truly in it. he wrapped his arm around your middle, keeping you still. soonyoung pressed the tips of three of his fingers against your hole. you may still be open a bit from last night but soonyoung wanted to make sure you weren't going to be in any pain from him.
there were some times the two of you sought pain. times when you begged for him to hurry, searched for that sting of his fat cock sinking into you. the sharp slap of his hips against your ass, merciless.
this was not that time.
so soonyoung worked his fingers slowly, gently. he was soaked all over. your cunt was wet and warm and he was eagerly drowning in it.
he could tell you were about to orgasm. your cunt tightened and loosened around his fingers quickly. your thighs were flexing against his head, and you were at the point where you were no longer able to try and keep yourself from suffocating him. so he let himself suffocate between your thighs, let himself drown in your cunt as he worked you towards an orgasm.
it wasn't explosive; wasn't a wave crashing against a cliff. instead it was the gentle waves lapping at the beach, pulling you under.
he watched as your chest heaved, as you tried to catch your breath. your nipples were pebbled from the cold air of the room. soonyoung didn't slide his fingers from your pussy until you were blinking down at him, tongue running over your bottom lip before catching it between your teeth.
"you're so beautiful," soonyoung gushed. he brought his fingers, the ones preciously in your pussy, up to his mouth. he suckled at them, letting his eyes flutter shut as he savored your cunt's bitter juice.
soonyoung made his way back up your body. your shoulders were slightly chilled from the bedroom air. soonyoung hated it. you shouldn't ever be cold.
so he kept his body close to yours as he took his hot, aching cock in hand. he kept himself from wrapping his hand around his dick and jerking it in search of relief. his dick was for you, for your pleasure; his spunk was meant for you, for your pussy. to waste it was a sin.
soonyoung slowly breached your body. he had to go slow. he had to stop. his instinct was to buck into you and take you, to mount you. soonyoung was a greedy man; he never pretended otherwise. he wanted to take and take and take you.
instead he covered your body with his, slowly sinking his cock into your cunt. fuck you were warm and tight and wet. his fat cock dragged along your walls as he pulled out, and it took everything within him to not snap his hips forward and bury his dick inside.
instead soonyoung rolled his hips, cock breaching you gently. the stretch of his cock had you bearing your neck to the ceiling, hands sliding into his hair and clenching the strands between your fingers.
he wanted you to pull. wanted you to yank.
but now wasn't the time.
"so pretty," soonyoung moaned out, fully surrounded in your warmth. your cunt was tight around him, clenching. he eventually picked up speed, balls slapping against your ass.
he got lost in you. lost in your warmth, lost in your scent. he tucked his face into your sweaty neck, tongue licking at your skin.
"i want you," he said, voice strained. "want you, baby. want you on my dick, want your tight cunt wrapped around me."
you groaned out his name, thighs tight around his body. your nails scraped at his scalp.
he sunk into you over and over, rolling into you. each thrust was coming home, sinking deep in you. you were so wet and warm and tight, and soonyoung was helpless to do anything other than take.
"you're mine," he said, speaking against your skin. "mine, mine. pussy's mine, tit's mine; all mine. fucking love you, baby. love you. love your tight pussy, love your hot cunt. love you, love you --"
eventually he spilled inside of you, his hot spunk filling your cunt. he cock throbbed, balls clenching. soonyoung marked the inside of you, and his mouth was busy marking the ouside of you as well.
once he was done, soonyoung slowly pulled out. you were sweating now, skin wet to the touch. but you were hot. your neck was hot as he pressed kisses to it; tits were hot as he laved his tongue over your nipples once more. your cunt was hot as he pressed his face against it once more, tongue plunging into your pussy. he couldn't help but groan at the mixture of his cum and your juices.
beneath the blankets, the two of you were trapped in warmth. but he shifted, blanket slipping off and revealing your entire upper body to the cool bedroom air, goosebumps immediately appeared. for all the warmth trapped by the blanket the rest of the room was still cold.
well, soonyoung thought, mouth sucking at the rim of your hole. he would just have to work extra hard to get the room warm.
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hoshigray · 4 months
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𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Toji x fem/afab! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - oral (m! receiving) - ball-massaging - face + throat-fucking - praise - pet names (baby, cutie, mama, sweet thing) - implied that reader has given oral prior - first-time Toji finding enjoyment in receiving oral - heavy depictions of a blowjob - mention of spit.
𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: "Toji has never really enjoyed oral. At least, not until Y/n went down on them for the first time…"
I was playing with NSFW prompts for the first time, and this was literally the first one it gave me…genius. (¬‿¬) guess kinda a switch-up from this oldie i did~ hope you all had a wonderful Christmas and New Year's, accept this as my welcome back present, hehe~ also tysm for 4.6k, hello????
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.6k
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“…Hey, Toji?” 
“Yeah, baby?”
“…Can I…..give you a blowjob?”
Up until this point, Toji was never one to be given oral from anyone. 
Giving oral isn’t a problem. But receiving it from someone else? That’s another thing. Call it his personal preference or years of sexual experience, but the older man never actually found pleasure in it. It could be from the many inexperienced minxs he’s had to get his dick wet, whose frequent teeth and bites sabotaged the mood for him. Or probably from the others who just really didn’t appear to know what they were doing — again, ruining the mood. Or the fact that most of the time, as mentioned, he finds himself satisfying his partner at the time more than himself. 
Not that he minds at all; no, no. He finds great satisfaction in going in between someone’s legs and getting them turned on from his work. But when it comes to the thought of having his dick sucked, it’s a hard pass. Respectfully. 
Which brings us to the present: him on the couch with an arm wrapped behind your shoulders, bringing you close to him as you watch television comfortably. The ceiling lights dimmed to a warm low glow, your head draped on his shoulder as his hand rubs comforting circles on yours, and the silence only filled with the voices coming from the TV isn’t awkward in the presence of you two. Why would it be? He’s with you, his little sweet thing. And that’s all he wants right now.
So, after all the fidgeting with your thumbs and the occasion glances at him (which he noticed, of course), it was apparent that you’d soon ask him something out of the blue. What he hadn’t expected, though, was that question. 
“Pfft, that’s random,” he scoffs at the sudden question, and more subtle chuckles resort from the bashful turn of your head. God, you were so cute. “Why ask, sweet thing?”
“I was…just wondering, you know?” Your eyes travel down to your twiddling thumbs, avoiding Toji’s deep, observant emerald gaze. “We’ve been together for this long, and not once have I ever given you a blowjob. And I know, you always say you’re fine with it, but like…I really wanna give you one.”
And that’s when you muster up some confidence to peer up at him meekly, and that’s what seals the deal for Toji. Who is he to deny such puppy dog eyes from his baby? 
“Okay then,” he chortles with a smirk, the scar on his right side rooted up. It’s just a blowjob. If not for me, then for them. “Do what you do, cutie.” Little did he know that this would blow his expectations far out.
It started out nice and slow. Toji indulged in your kisses as you snuck your hand into the hem of his drawstring pants, sucking on his tongue while fingers crept inside his boxer briefs to give his cock a rub. He groans into your mouth, liking how you’re setting the mood until you take your lips away from his and slide off the couch to be between his legs. Removing his underwear to the floor, you examine his half-soft dick before using your hands to wrap around the base, massaging around it while you take the tip in your mouth. Toji sighs in bliss at the feeling of your soft licks and rolls of your tongue, shifting around to get more comfortable on the couch.
His erection becomes less and less flaccid, hardening around your mouth. This is where you decide to take in more of his length, hallowing your cheeks as you push your puffy lips down halfway down his erection. By the time you reach this base, your throat is so full of Toji’s girth that you use his sweatpants as reins for your hands as you try to give yourself a few seconds to adjust to the limb occupying your throat. You continue to suck on his cock, bobbing up and down with your saliva coating him, your tongue moving around on the underside of his dick every time you suck up to the tippy top. 
The sucks and strokes to his length become a little faster, and it’s here that Toji can’t concentrate on the television. Subtle twitches of his leg result from the hummed moan you express while taking him to the hilt. The vibrations that resonate along the inner walls of your throat are felt. It feels so good. And the tongue of yours? Fuck. His brows trench down when your tongue licks from the bottom of his ridge to the frenulum, giving his cockhead an onslaught of rough licks and kisses that has Toji exhale through his nose. “Hmmnn, fuck…Y/n, baby, y’re so good at this…Uhghh!”
You release his tip with a soft ‘plop’ with a string of saliva connecting your lips to his spit-covered cock. “Ahahhn, really?” Oh, fucking shit, don’t look at him like that. Your hooded eyes peering up at him with a soft smile while your hands maintain a stroking rhythm that has Toji squirm around your grasp. And then you surprise him with a grasp of his ballsack, oh you’re a devilish cutie. “That makes me happy to know,” you give him a giggle when Toji involuntarily bucks to your hands; the veiny limb contrasting with your pretty fingers is such a sight to see. The pulsating commotion between your legs progresses more by the second.
More dangerous licks paired with the massage to his balls as Toji huff is bliss. “Ahhh, sh–shit…Ya like how my dick tastes, mama?”
Taking his cock back into your mouth with alluringly half-lidded eyes is the answer you give him, your lips covering your teeth as your jaw relaxes to welcome his neither limb back inside your warm oral cavity. The suction of your hallow cheeks became lethal with the increased speed, your tongue now swirling around him and creating such deviant noises that only Toji focuses on despite the television vices failing to drown them out. 
Holy shit, Toji wasn’t expecting this kind of treatment at all. This was downright out of the water from all the other oral ordeals he’s had in his life. How the fuck were you so good at this!? Cupping his balls while slurping his dick was such a dangerous combo; Toji doesn’t know how long he’ll contain the urge to stand and fuck your face here and now. Goddamn, the faster you bob your lips on him, the shiver down his spine is hard to ignore. His hips jerking to your mouth; he wants to fuck your face so bad. And just looking at your ass sway while you suck on him, he knows you’re enjoying this as well. 
It reaches a point where he can’t take it anymore — he wants to go faster and harder. So Toji grabs your head as he stands up and dials the tempo to a harsher motion, propelling your lips down to his pelvis. And you’re quick not to panic, being sure to breathe when Toji smacks his testicles to your chin and ruts into your face and throat with no mercy. Toji moans at the sensation of your gummy walls wrapping around his length, hissing at your muffled wails as he hits the back of your throat. “Fsshhh—Hnngh!! Fuckin’ shit, just like that, mama, just like that…Ohhggh!”
You can feel the veins on his girth pulsate, indicating that his release is soon coming. The thrusts to your face get erratically faster, so you’re sure to grab onto his sweatpants to make sure you don’t lose balance as he spills his load down your throat. Ending it with a few rough hits to your lips, Toji groans with gritted teeth, shaky, strong legs pumping his semen for you to drink, which you merrily take with muzzled squeals on his shaft. The both of you experience the last moment of this euphoric high until Toji’s body calms down, heavy breaths going slower with every expel. He gives you a few moments to suck him off a little more before removing himself from you, gradually pulling his length, quivering with the aftershocks at the dismissal of your warm walls around him. And he jolts when you tease him with one last lick to the sensitive tip. 
“Hahhh, damn, cutie,” Toji takes a seat back on the couch, eyeing you down with a weary smirk and furrowed brows. “Since when did ya like to get down and dirty?”
You sheepishly smile back and avert your eyes down, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. “I’m glad you liked it, Toji.” 
“Sure as hell did,” he bends down to grab your chin and bring you in for a kiss. The squeaks you let out when he bites your lips are too adorable and hot to his ears. “Want me to eat you out, sweet thing?”
“Really?” God, you were too cute — beaming at him like that with such a lovely smile. 
“Sure thing. Besides, I saw the way you were movin' that ass while suckin’ me off. So, I got you,” Toji takes off his sweatpants, moving his legs to be on the couch entirely. His dick is still standing erect, and he gives you a suggestive grin before tapping his chest, a sign for you to get ready and sit on him. “Only if ya can do that shit on me again.” The request takes you aback for a minute, but you chuckle and stand up. You remove your bottoms and underwear, and Toji notices the wet spot on the material. 
Again, Toji is Toji was never one to be given oral. But if he’s going to be treated like this, you might be able to change his mind.
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© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2023 – dividers from @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more.
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misslovasstuff · 5 months
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Writing prompt: Them taking about their lover
op men x fem!reader
with: Sanji, Zoro, Luffy, Buggy.
author’s note: oh to be described by hot pirates that would die for me hehe. Enjoy ~
please support me here (⁎⁍̴̛ᴗ⁍̴̛⁎):ko-fi
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Sanji:
“Ah, - he rests his elbows on the table, pupils dilated and somehow taken the form of an heart as his face rests on his palms. - she…”
The moment you are mentioned in the conversation, Sanji completely melts. His mind now travels distant lands where he imagines you and his surroundings become dust.
“She completely devastates me. - he closes his eyes and starts describing you. - Eyes that lure me in even with the shortest of glance, a smile that determines my fate, the touch of those hands that are grown among prickles of roses and yet have remained so soft that when caressing my skin so gently, I feel like I am healed from everything that has hurt me. Ah, for my love I could talk for hours. She… she is someone I thought I could ever meet. A miracle.”
Zoro
He puts his sake down for a moment, eyes lowered as he looks down whilst thinking. Suddenly he chuckles and shakes his head.
“That woman will be the death of me. - Zoro says, leaning against the chair with a sigh and a smile. - She’s an open book, easy to understand, at least for me. The way she smiles and lightens up every time she sees me… it warms my heart. I hear my name falling out her lips and my whole body just shivers from the sound of her voice. Sometimes while I’m training she’ll walk by to visit me. Those are the times I cherish a lot since we don’t get to be alone together for a long time. Small pecks she gives me during the day, notes that she sticks to my swords, lipstick marks on my clothes…- his pushes his head back, staring at the ceiling as he covers his bashful face. - What a woman she is… I can never get enough of her.”
Luffy
“Ah, she’s amazing! - his eyes shine brightly at the mention of your name. - we have known each other for a while now.”
Luffy smiles, voice deepening as his cheeks turn slightly pink.
“We met as she tried to save my life. That type of courage, I’ve seen only in a few people. - he begins explaining. - Anyone that looks at her can feel how genuine she is: her kindness… she has helped so many people and yet fails to see how she has helped me the most by opening my heart to so many new experiences. I don’t know what it is, perhaps I’m always too full when I look at her and my stomach feels heavy, my eyes get fixated on her as she watches over the horizon, the one I used to observe but now I completely ignore it, as if I’ve found something more beautiful to look forward to.”
Buggy
“Uh?? Why would you ask me about her?”- with his voice high pitched eyebrow raised, Buggy is taken a bit aback but soon calms down his protective instinct. - Well, there’s no reason for you to know but I’ll say it anyways because I’m so proud of my girl.”
He smirks, crossing his legs as he sits comfortably whilst beginning his description:
“A total babe, tall and curvy, so beautiful that my hands shake upon first touching her. - his eyes soften a bit, so does his voice. - Her laugh is the most precious thing ever in my world. She chuckles at my jokes and makes me laugh too. Not only is she fun, but my sweetheart is my biggest support. There is no one who believes in me like her. And… if I can become the man that she hopes I can be, then I could make her the happiest, like she makes me. A man like me saw her and truly believed that I had found the treasure that was meant for me and I’m willing to guard her with my life.”
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commander-krios · 8 months
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Kitchen Duty
Fandom: Andromeda Six Pairing: Damon Reznor/Traveler Rating: Teen Summary: Damon is assigned kitchen duty alongside the Andromeda Six's resident princess, per Calderon's orders. He isn't sure if this is a punishment for him or for her, but he's willing to make the most out of a shitty situation. Words: 2024 Additional Tags: Tilaari Traveler, Banter, Food, Flirting, Sexual Tension, Anger, Threats of Violence, Swearing
Read on AO3
~~~~
“Is this a fucking joke?”
Calderon slanted his eyes in Damon’s direction, not even bothering to make nice at this point. “Care to elaborate?”
“Kitchen duty? With her?” As if he wanted kitchen duty to begin with. Damon usually had no issue cooking for the crew, he was fucking good at it, but to be forced into it… with a princess who didn’t even know how to hold a knife. Calderon was going to take a short trip out of the airlock if he kept subjecting him to this kind of shit. 
“We all have sins to pay penance for.” Calderon’s gaze burned in him, and he wanted to believe that the Captain was trying to needle him, trying to get a rise out of him, but all he saw was that hard line of his mouth and an expression that dared him to argue.
“If this is because I suggested handing her to Zovack-”
Calderon stood so fast that Damon almost took a step back. He’d seen the Captain pissed before, and most days it was at him, but there was something dangerous about the way he looked at Damon now. As if he’d gladly shoot him in the head for one more wrong move.
Better to get it over with then.
“You honestly don’t think I was serious, do you?”
Calderon’s jaw tensed. “Even if you weren’t serious, which I highly doubt since it came out of your mouth, Astrea thinks you meant it. Maybe you should try to act civil to her for five seconds.”
“I’m not going to be nice just because she’s a fucking princess, Cal. You should know better than that.” Damon crossed his arms over his chest, fingers itching to close around the handle of one of his knives, for insurance. “You didn't give a single shit about her before. Why are you jumping to her defense now?”
Calderon exhaled through his nose, an attempt to cool off that wasn’t working. 
“She’s not your responsibility. You owe the Peg’asi nothing.”
Calderon was still tense even if he deflated slightly. His exhaustion was creeping in, eyes haunted more than usual. “I owe her brother. Sorenn. I won’t rest until she’s safe.”
God, that was just like Calderon. Taking on the burdens of some other fucking idiot, all because he swore to protect a monarchy that happily threw him in a cell and planned his execution for a crime he didn’t commit. Damon sighed, brushing a hand through his hair. “Fine. I’ll do it. But if one of us kills the other, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Calderon’s expression turned smug, but he ignored it. “Try not to burn the galley down.”
Mocking him with a lazy salute, Damon found himself walking to the kitchen where the princess who probably hated his guts with every fiber of her being waited. If he took long enough, there was a good chance she’d burn the entire ship down without his help and then he’d have a list of all of the reasons it was a bad idea to let her touch anything involving fire and knives. Forks were probably too difficult for her too, now that he thought of it.
Once the kitchen door slid open, Damon paused in the doorway, watching the little princess attempt to cut one of the peppers he’d brought on board after Teranium. She was cutting the vegetable into strips so slowly that it was almost excruciating to watch. He only made it thirty seconds before his mouth opened.
“The damn thing isn’t going to scream if you cut it a little faster.”
The hand holding the knife tensed, her movements stilling at the sound of his voice. She closed her eyes, letting her breath out through her nose, trying to imagine the knife in his throat no doubt. “Why are you here?”
He clicked his tongue and approached the counter where she stood, hands in his pockets. “Didn’t hear the news, I take it? I’m your new cooking buddy for the next week.”
She sighed, slamming the knife into what was left of the pepper. “Calderon.”
“Bingo. You’re good at this game.” Sidling up to her, Damon leaned against the counter, smiling when she slanted her amber eyes at him. “Want to see how round two goes?”
“So help me, I’m going to stab you, Damon.”
“You need to learn how to hold the knife first, Princess.” His hand curled around hers, the coolness of her skin barely a balm for the heat she ignited in him. He wasn’t a complete idiot. He knew what being near her did to him. She was cute, fiery, and he loved the way she blushed whenever he teased her. But she was also clearly sheltered, if a bit naive, and never had to do anything for herself in her entire life. A pretty face only got you so far before you were picking up pieces of it off of the floor.
“I don’t need help. Thank you, anyway.” She grabbed the piece of cutlery by the handle, trying to dislodge it from the pepper and only ended up getting frustrated when it didn’t.
Somehow, he managed to keep from laughing as he went to wash his hands. He might have to deal with this trainwreck but he could at least avoid dying from food poisoning. When he returned to her side, she was finishing up the pepper. Then he had to watch her struggle with the onion.
Stifling a groan, he moved behind her, reaching around to still her hands before she cut a finger off. She froze at the sudden closeness, jaw tensing as she tried to breathe normally. Resting his chin on her shoulder, he removed the knife from her hand before depositing it on the cutting board. She glanced at him, uncertainty the only thing he could read from her expression, face haloed in silver hair, her skin glowing enough that she couldn’t hide it anymore. 
She liked it when he touched her.
When he smiled at her, she blushed, eyes darting away to stare at the abandoned food.
“If you want to stab me, do it after we eat. I’m actually getting hungry.” His lips brushed against her ear, and he felt her tremble at the touch. “Now move.”
He didn’t wait for a response. Instead, he physically moved her out of his way, his hands squeezing her sides as he deposited her unceremoniously on the counter next to the cutting board. She made a little ‘oof’ sound as he dropped her ass on the hard surface, smirking as he turned back to the onion.
“Hey!”
“Hey nothing, Princess. You’re terrible at this and I don’t want to die today.” He sliced the onion with the ease of a man who knew his way around a kitchen… and a knife. It was done quickly, pushed to the side for the next thing. “What was your plan with all of this anyway?”
“My… plan?”
He stared at her, eyes unblinking. He shouldn’t have been surprised that Astrea had no idea what to do beyond cutting vegetables. When he didn’t speak, she shifted uncomfortably, twisting her hands in the shirt she wore. Today it was one of Ayame’s old tank tops. He had a good view of plenty of cleavage even at this angle and gave a quiet thanks to the pilot’s sluttier nature.
“Did you grab random things from the fridge to eat? Oh, Princess. How did you survive without me?” 
Astrea’s eyes slanted dangerously, her nose wrinkling in the cutest attempt at anger he’d ever seen. He didn’t even bother resisting the urge to flick it. She smacked his hand away, mouth twitching with a smile. “You aren’t as cute as you think you are.”
“I’m cute, huh?”
The pout was even more adorable than that damned nose wrinkle. “I didn’t-”
“No take backs, Astrea. You can admit you think about me naked when you’re alone.” He’d never seen someone look so positively delicious as she did when flustered. “Or when you’re not alone. It’s okay. I know you like thinking about undressing me even when you’re in front of the others.”
She sighed, covering her face with her hands, her blush now covering her neck and chest. It was more than enough positive reinforcement, not that he ever needed much to begin with. The food prep completely forgotten, Damon situated himself between her legs, resting his hands against the counter. She tensed at his proximity, dropping her hands to her lap so she could glare at him.
“You’re annoying.”
Damon laughed, the sound cold even to his ears. He had no idea where this girl got the confidence to stand up to him, but she could barely meet his eyes when he flirted. Such a strange creature.
Trailing a hand over her silver hair, he followed the path of her elaborate braid, only to pause where it hung over her shoulder. He suddenly changed direction, tracing the freckles that danced across her glowing skin to her throat. She inhaled sharply at his touch and desire flared in his gut. He could easily lean forward, follow the path his fingers made with his lips. The temptation was strong and one he had to fight against. 
He settled for brushing his thumb over her bottom lip, her breath hot against his skin. Then he dropped his hand to her thigh, squeezing as he leaned closer.
“If you want to be teased, Princess, you only need to ask.”
Faces close, their eyes met, cerulean to gold, and she bit her lip, blush turning her skin to a lovely shade of violet, her skin glowing subtly in the dimly lit room. She was fighting her attraction to him, it was obvious by the slight widening of her pupils as she stared, the quick breaths from her mouth, the gentleness of her hands against his.
She didn’t even realize she was clutching his hands and he grinned, moving his hands over her thighs, fingers just out of reach of her hips. 
The door hissed open and Astrea jumped, nearly falling off of the counter, jarred back to reality by their new audience: Bash. 
The bionic raised an eyebrow as Damon smoothly moved away from the princess, ignoring her as she slid off of the counter, flushed with an expression of mortified horror twisting her pretty face. “The Captain wanted me to make sure everyone was still alive.” His eyes landed on the flustered girl in front of him, a look of pity on his face. “You alright, kid?”
Damon leaned against the counter, crossing his arms nonchalantly, as if he wasn’t five seconds from seducing the princess into his bed. Which he hadn’t been. But she didn’t know that. “We’re fine, Ilahaj. Just teaching our princess here some tricks.”
Bash frowned at him, clearly knowing what he meant and not approving. He moved closer to Astrea, putting a steady human hand on her shoulder, as if she was a child in need of comfort. Damon rolled his eyes, somehow managing to not snort at them.
“If you want to skip kitchen duty tonight, I can fill in.” Bash’s words were meant for Astrea, but when he glanced in Damon’s direction, the assassin grinned, taking the opportunity to make a quick getaway.
“Thanks for the offer.” Pushing away from the counter, Damon strolled casually past them, pausing briefly to tug on the end of Astrea’s braid. “Thanks for the fun, Princess. Try not to dream about me tonight.”
With a wink in both of their directions, memorizing the disgruntled expression on Astrea’s face, he made his exit, the door hissing closed a moment before the knife hit the metal, clattering loudly when it landed on the floor. With a snorted laugh, Damon shoved his hands in his pockets, turning down the hall to his room before Calderon caught wind of what happened.
Because no matter what the Captain said about it, Astrea might be upset with him now, but she couldn’t hide the fact that he got to her so easily, and that she liked that he could.
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norrisleclercf1 · 3 months
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Unattainable
Pairing: Mafia!Jenson Button x Assistant!Reader
Words: 1.4K
Rating: R
Requested: Yes/No
Request: Okay so imagine Jenson had to travel for a business meeting with the Webber’s. Normally whenever he goes abroad for work, he wouldn’t bring his assistant but the time zones make it difficult for him to remain in touch with her so he brings her along. They arrive a day or so before Jenson has this meeting and they spend it at the private beach attached to the villa he rented where she tries to read her book while Jenson goes for a swim. Lewis’ words have never left her and she tries to sneak glances at him to see if it’s true but the swimming trunks make it hard to make out anything beyond the outline. So, blushing furiously at the fact that she’s checking out her boss, she goes back to her book only for Jenson to drop on the tanning bed next to her with a “if you wanted to see my cock, all you had to do was ask pretty girl”
Warnings: Language, Jenson has a dick piercing, sexual talks, etc.
A/N: Hehehehehe for @enchantecafe and also the gorgeous brilliant mind of Mar @percervall for giving me this delicious idea
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"I'm not going, and you can't make me." Jenson wanted to bash his head into the desk before him. All he wanted was for you to join him in gorgeous Balos, Chania, Crete, Greece. With the time zone, he wasn't comfortable leaving you here. He needed you, just like Mark and Lewis would be. "I have work here," You argue further.
"Y/n, pretty girl, I know you have work here, but I need you in Greece with me. This isn't up for a debate." You tap your heel and purse your lips, ready to rip him a new one. "Mr. Button," Jenson groans, knowing you're pissed when you use his last name. "With all due respect, Mr. Button, going to Greece would be ideal for a vacation. As this is a work function and not a vacation, it's not ideal for me to join you. Take Miss. Simpson, she's just as capable." Jenson takes a deep breath and calms the anger bubbling in his stomach. 
"Miss. L/n, you will be joining me. You are my assistant, and besides, you know what this work.... function is for, so please save the attitude for when we're there." Jenson glares at you, and you stop, knowing you are pushing the buttons now. "When do we leave?" You ask, teeth gritted, tapping your foot harder now. "Tonight, your bags have already been packed." You make a noise of annoyance, turn on your heel, and stomp out. Even in his irritation with you, he still found that the skirt hugged your ass pretty damn well. 
You slam your folder down and bitch to yourself but stop noticing the appealing eyes of Lewis Hamilton staring at you from your own chair. "Coming to Greece with us?" He cocks his head with a dopey grin knowing damn well you were going. "Of course, the brat doesn't know how to work without me." Leaning in, you start to whisper. "How in the world is he running an international mafia but can't go to a ridiculous meeting without me?" Lewis chuckles and bites one of his tattooed fingers. 
"He needs his emotional support assistant, or else he gets cranky. And you remember what happened the last time he got cranky." You whine, pressing your face into the cold glass counter of your desk. "Lewis, please talk to him. I don't want to go to Greece." Lewis snorts and knows you're lying. "Please, you don't want to go because then you'll find out if that piercing of his is true." Stopping your pity party and glare at Lewis, who smiles at you innocently. 
"You know, I packed your clothes for you. Some skimpy swimsuits you've got." Cheeks heat up at the thought of Lewis digging around your swimsuits, mainly your underwear. "Lucky man, whoever gets to peel those off you," You grab a pen, throw it at him, and hear his laughter as he dodges. "Fuck off, the last man I slept with was," You close your mouth, remembering that Spanish accent and thick hair. "I know who it was, does he?" Lewis whispers, nodding towards Jenson, who has Mark at his side. 
"No, and it's none of his business." But you hate the guilt that eats up at you. He was just a way to forget. Instead, you couldn't help but compare the two. How you didn't feel the same when Jenson touched you, how he called you pretty girl, all you wanted was for it to be Jenson that was buried deep in you. "Your face says otherwise," Lewis's voice shifts from teasing to that of the overprotective friend that he is. 
"What?" You turn back to face Lewis, who is boring a hole in your face. "He won't be there, just us, Jenson and Mark." You nod and feel Jenson's hand touch your back. "If we're all ready, we can leave now." Jenson's hand stays on your back, making your skin burn to life. "Let's get this over with," You pull away, feeling cold slap you in the face. Mark chuckles and picks up your bags as you four leave, heading for Greece. 
-------------------------------------------
"Just wear it." Lewis urges, shoving the swimsuit into your hands. "Lewis, this is very...revealing. You just had to pick one of my most revealing ones." You huff, holding up the thin fabric. Lewis just smiles at you and nudges your shoulder. "Y/n, come on. We're at a private villa on the beach. No one except for us will see you. Please, just wear it and have fun." Lewis pouts, and you try to ignore it but know you can't. 
"Okay," Lewis jumps off your bed and exits the room. Leaving you to throw on the swimsuit. Putting it on, you stare at yourself in the mirror; you don't turn, hear the door open, and see Lewis stop and stare at you. "Fuck, you look damn good. You'll definitely make Jenson come in his pants." You turn and smack his shoulder and stare at the "one-piece." 
It's held together by one material dyed with orange, dark brown, and other colors. It's got a little wood circle holding the neck and top part together, and it's cut out, showing off your underboob and also your stomach. "Okay, let's go." You walk out of the room and to the open air. 
"Goddamn, if I wasn't married," "Shut up, Mark." You giggle and saunter over to where Jenson is lying, a towel covering his lap as he tries not to stare. He's thankful for the sunglasses as his eyes rake over your body. "What are you reading?" You ask, plopping yourself onto the sunbed next to Jenson, who fidgets. "One of your books," He hands it over, and you smile and bookmark the page he was on. 
"It's hot," You sigh and move, stretching out, and Jenson watches you closely, never been more grateful for the towel he's placed on his lap. "Yes, it is," Licking his lips, he sees you stand and run over to Lewis and Mark on the beach. Sighing, he drops his head, lifts the towel, and groans, seeing that he is very hard. He can't stand up, knowing he'd never hear the end from Mark or Lewis if he stood up. 
Jenson watches you and smiles, seeing you having fun. He relaxes thinking about everything he'd love to give you. "Jenson, come join us!" Mark yells, but you turn and climb out of the ocean. He bites his lip, seeing the waterfall off your body and how your skin glows with happiness and sun. "Jens, go join them. They want to play water volleyball." You run up and stand before him, and he has to control the urge to pull you down on top of him and kiss you senselessly. 
"Yeah," The word comes out choked, and he pulls himself towards the edge and comes face to face with your breasts. "Shit," He grumbles, wanting to run his fingers over the curves of them and pull the top off and fuck you profoundly and properly. Your breathing becomes ragged, feeling the way his eyes move over your body. "Jenson! Come one!" Mark yells, pulling the two of you out of your little bubble. "Yeah, coming!" Jenson stands up and moves away from you. 
Swallowing you suck in a breath and breathe out. "Read, reading is good." You whisper to yourself, trying to stop yourself now. Lewis runs up and throws himself into the chair to your left, leaving Jenson's chair open. "I always loved this time; he wears thin suits, and we always tease him about the piercing." You groan, trying your hardest not to stare openly. Instead, you settle for sneaking glances, hating Lewis for reminding you of the piercing. 
"All I can see is the fucking outline," Whining, you hate that Jenson fucking Button has reduced you to this whining mess. "I'm checking out my boss; what the hell. I hate you, Lewis Hamilton. Seriously, I've been perfectly normal working with him. Now all I can think about is him," "Fucking you so good he ruins you for other men, and feeling the way the piercing feels?" Lewis fills in, and you tighten your legs, biting your bottom lip. You go to reply but stop seeing Jenson within earshot and turn bright red when you know that he's grinning. 
He drops to the sun bed next to you and rolls his waistband, revealing the happy trail and muscle. "Pretty girl, if you wanted to see my cock, all you had to do was ask." Jenson groans, getting comfortable, and you whip your head straight as Jenson rolls to the side. "I'm serious; ask me, pretty girl." He almost begs, and you turn your eyes wide, and you hate the ache between your legs. "Jenson?" He hums, and you sigh, working up the courage and smile. 
"Can I see your cock?" Jenson smiles, and fingers curl around your throat and pull you in. "Of course," 
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Time After Time - Chapter 1 - originella - Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling [Archive of Our Own]
Hermione Granger is happy, really. She is twenty-seven, Deputy Minister of Magic underneath Kingsley Shacklebolt, is a loving godmother, a wonderful daughter, and a proud cat owner of a new Kneazle familiar called Sharma. Although not involved in any romantic entanglements, she is perfectly happy, right? Right?
Well, likely not. After Astoria Greengrass-Malfoy sends over a missive from the Department of Mysteries, Hermione begins to doubt her supposed happiness and everything she knew about the Wizarding World.
Language: English Words: 38,845 Chapters: 8/8 Collections: 1 Comments: 58 Kudos: 520 Bookmarks: 117 Hits: 15,123
My summary:
27 year old and still single Hermione finds herself back in early 1992- a few months before the end of her first year. She is discovered by Snape who agrees to hide her from Dumbledore but McGonagall meets them after classes.
While fixing the past she must remain hidden from her younger self.
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altruisticalastor · 1 month
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↳˗ˏˋAlastor x Readerˊˎ˗ ↴
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☒ Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six
☒ Summary: You could barely stop smiling during the entire trip to your room. Alastor would pause in his stride to capture your lips with his as he held you tightly to his chest. "This is about as close as we'll get to a honeymoon, my dearest!"
☒ Warnings: fem!reader she/her pronouns used, smut and fluff, making out, first times, alastor curses a lot, biting, slight blood play, oral (alastor receiving), fingering, nipple play, praise, dirty talk, unprotected sex, creampie, squirting, cockwarming, mating press, breeding kink, alastor's ears are sensitive... alastor also has a tail in this
☒ Word Count: 3,664
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You could barely stop smiling during the entire trip to your room. Alastor would pause in his stride to capture your lips with his as he held you tightly to his chest. "This is about as close as we'll get to a honeymoon, my dearest!"
Heat rushed through you from his words. You nuzzled your face in the crook of his neck, hiding your embarrassment. "Ah, we're definitely skipping a couple steps! I'd still like to have a ceremony with you," Alastor chuckled at your timid reaction as he had his shadow tendrils peel your bedroom door open. He slipped into your space with you still tightly secured in his arms.
"Oh, trust me, I still plan on claiming you as mine on paper! However, I cannot wait til then to ravish you. There's no need to be bashful, my sweet girl. It's just us." Alastor was careful as he placed you atop your bed. In the corner of your eye, you saw Alastor's shadow shut the door and lock it before vanishing into thin air. Your gaze trailed back to your lover when you felt the bed dip near your feet. He slowly crawled over you with a hunger you had never seen before; churning deep within his crimson orbs. A shiver ran up your spine when his chest pressed flush against yours. You could feel how hard he was through his clothes like this, and Alastor was fully aware of that.
"A-Alastor..." You gasped, bringing a hand up to cover your mouth as his lips pressed against your neck. His breath, fanning over your heated skin made you squirm in anticipation. "Ah... I adore how my name sounds when it's rolling off your tongue," Your other hand shot up to Alastor's tufts of hair when his teeth grazed your throat.
A whine was muffled by your palm as he began to suckle at the base of your neck. Leaving his mark on you. Alastor's breath became labored as his hips began to rock into yours. You could tell that the tiniest bit of friction was overwhelming for The Radio Demon. "Alastor... need more," You pulled your hand away from your lips, opting to slide your flattened palm between your bodies. Your fingers found his pants, hooking onto his belt loops and tugging playfully. Hoping your lover would take the hint.
"Oh, my dear... I'll gladly give you everything you desire." Goosebumps littered your flesh from his words. His breath was hot against your already scorching skin, and your head started spinning when Alastor lifted himself off you to tug your pants and panties down your thighs. Alastor's eyes were locked on yours the entire time he undressed you. He discarded your clothing without a second thought before spreading your legs wider, slotting himself between your thighs. 
Alastor's hands were cold against your heated flesh; a flawless contrast. When his palms smoothed over the thin fabric of your shirt, lifting it slowly—teasingly—a burning passion pooled in your core. His stare was entrancing. You didn't dare to look away—despite the embarrassment you felt as you lay only in your bra before him. "You look unquestionably divine right now... I could just eat you up." Alastor's sharp nail teasingly traveled up your navel to your sternum; slashing the band between your bra cups. You gasped at the sudden action and the cool air now hitting your bare body. Your nipples hardened under the nippy breeze. 
“So perfect…” His fingers trailed low once more, dancing along your thighs. You slowly sat upright, causing Alastor’s brow to twitch. Your shaky hands came up to his frame. His intense gaze was on you the entire time, soaking up your every move—every touch. “I-It’s my turn,” You wasted no time unfastening his bow tie, sliding the silk fabric off his neck. Alastor’s body stiffened as you made quick work of unbuttoning his dress shirt. Your eyes quickly flickered to his hands—which were twitching with need against your thighs.
As you tugged the shirt past his broad shoulders, exposing his tattered skin, you couldn’t help but offer him a feeble smile. “Al… oh, my love,” You were gentle with your caress along his scarred chest and torso. Alastor shivered the lower your fingertips traveled. “It’s quite alright, my sweetest…” His voice was slightly labored as you began to pull his belt from the loops. You could tell Alastor was growing more impatient by the second. Your lover's breath hitched when you unbuttoned his dress pants, making quick work of tugging his trousers and underwear down his slender thighs. He quickly rid himself of the garments the rest of the way down his calves, tossing them off the bed in a pile of your already-discarded clothing. 
The heat in your core was almost unbearable to stand as you watched Alastor’s length spring free, gently slapping against his lower abdomen from how hard he was. Alastor didn’t fail to notice how your thighs twitched underneath his hold. Nor how you scored your bottom lip with your teeth as you greedily took in his bare form. “Looks like I’m not the only one here who’s getting impatient, hm?” His words pulled you out of your lewd stupor. You could feel the heat spreading to your ears from embarrassment as your eyes met his once more.
The smirk painted across Alastor’s countenance was absolutely devious. His chest puffed out with each breath he took, and you noticed the way his dick was twitching uncontrollably from your peripheral view. “Can you blame me? Feel like I’ve been waiting a lifetime for this moment… come, sit back for me, yeah?” Alastor’s face softened from your words as he followed your request. He did say he would execute your every desire, after all. “Wouldn’t blame you, not even for a second! The feeling is most certainly mutual, my sweet girl.” Your lover gave you a fleeting kiss before sliding past you, making himself comfortable atop the duvet. The back of his head rested against the headboard as he quirked his head to the side, raising a brow—awaiting your next move.
You took a shaky breath as you crawled closer to him. Alastor’s gaze was half-lidded as he watched you spread his thighs apart, slotting yourself in between. You allowed yourself to lie flat on your stomach against the silky blankets, peering up at him from beneath his thighs. You clenched around nothing as your gaze trailed back to his length. Alastor’s cock was pulsating and twitching, and the ruddy head of his length was leaking so much pre. “You don’t need to do this, my dear. Please do not force yourself, especially when this night is supposed to be all about you.” You quickly silenced his doubts when your hand came up to wrap around the base of his cock. Alastor let out a sinful moan from the much-needed friction.
“This night isn’t about me, it’s about us. Besides, it’s about damn time I return the favor.” The chagrin you felt began to dissipate as you watched Alastor begin to fall apart from your touch alone. He brought a hand up to cover his mouth, stifling his needy groans. His other hand was digging deep into your duvet. Sharp claws slicing through the soft fabric with ease. You made sure to keep your eyes on his when your mouth finally came in contact with the head of his cock. You darted your tongue out experimentally, finally getting a taste of your lover. Alastor’s hips bucked off the bed when your lips wrapped around his sensitive tip.
He was so lewd like this. Hair disheveled, ears pinned back and twitching wildly with each flick of your tongue. Not to mention the way his chest heaved with each sharp breath he took from behind his palm. The way Alastor’s abdomen tensed with each gentle suck you gave to his cock had you dripping between your thighs. “F-Fuck… so perfect,” His voice was muffled, but you still heard his praise loud and clear. In the heat of the moment, your free hand came up to his thigh, and you smiled around his length when you felt him jolt underneath you from the touch. As you took more of him in your mouth, sucking fiercely as you still held the base of his cock for support— that hand on his thigh began to wander.
Your nails gently raked against his flesh as you mapped out every square inch of your lover. Alastor’s whines were becoming pitchy, losing any semblance of that radio static tone of his. When your hand finally danced along his midsection, sliding up toward his navel and back down in a soothing motion— his head flew back against the headboard. You could hear the sound of fabric tearing from where Alastor was gripping your sheets, but you could hardly care less. All that you could focus on was the sight of your lover losing himself to pleasure. As you worked his cock faster, sliding your tongue along the underside of his length with each bob down, your hand dancing along his abdomen began to crawl higher.
In the heat of pleasure, your fingers began flicking over one of his pert nipples. The Radio Demon was quick to snap his head back in your direction from your ministrations. You could see the drool seeping past his chin now that his hand was no longer covering his pretty mouth. That hand now resided atop your head, digging deep into your hair and guiding you up and down his cock. Alastor didn’t force you down, no, no— he would never dream of such a thing. But he figured a little bit of guidance couldn’t hurt. His quick regain of control had you feeling needier than ever, only encouraging you to work harder.
Alastor's tight grip on your hair was thrilling. You could tell he was holding himself back from fully taking control. Your devious fingers tweaked his nipple once more, relishing in the way he twitched inside your mouth from the action. "A-Ah... what a good girl you are," Alastor pulled you off his cock from the firm grip he had on your hair. You gasped for air, looking at him expectantly. "As much as I'm enjoying this, I'd much rather cum inside you, my dear." He huffed, a lazy smirk cascading over his features. In a moment, Alastor had you pinned beneath him. You let out a quiet gasp as your back hit the mattress. Your eyes fluttered shut when your lover's lips captured yours. You could feel his cock throbbing against your tummy from where he now lay atop you. 
The kiss you shared was messy. Alastor's composure was long gone, and your tounges swirling against one another were proof of that. You whined into his mouth when you felt a sinful hand of his dip between your thighs. Instinctively, you spread your legs wider for him, arching your back off the mattress to push further into him. Alastor pulled back from your lips as his fingers dipped between your folds. The look crossing his face was one of awe and sin. "You're so wet down here... fuck, you're driving me mad, my darling," You scored your bottom lip with your teeth when one of his slender fingers pushed past the tight ring of your pussy. His digit slipped into your wet heat with ease, and you couldn't help but cry out in pleasure from the delicious drag of his finger against your walls. "Squeezing me so tightly, too... hah... how did I get so lucky?" 
Alastor's praise only made you clench fiercer around his slender finger. He thrust his deft digit into you slowly, being careful not to hurt you with his nails. Your mind went fuzzy when you felt your lover add a second digit, pumping deeply inside your welcoming walls. Each curl of his fingers had you whining out. You could hardly endure the pleasure Alastor granted you, and the unwavering eye contact you shared only intensified the thrill. "A-Alastor... please, need you inside..." You babbled in between whimpers. His fingers immediately halted in their movements from deep inside your pussy. You felt his cock twitch against your tummy once more from your words, and his smirk grew vast. "Are you most certain, my sweet girl?" You let out a needy whine when his fingers slipped out of your heat. Your half-lidded eyes widened when Alastor repositioned himself on top of you. He gripped the base of his cock with his fingers—which were coated with your slick. Alastor teasingly ran the tip of his length between your folds, groaning to himself from the feeling. "I couldn't be more sure of this, my love... so please, no more teasing! I need you to fill me up..." 
Alastor cursed under his breath from your confession. You could see the joy swirling deep within his crimson orbs as you wrapped your hands around the back of his neck. Your lover gave you a quick nod, too lost in you to give a proper response. You wasted no time capturing his lips once more. The kiss was slow and sensual, and you both whined into each other's mouths when the tip of his cock sunk inside you. Alastor's free hand grasped your hip tightly as he guided his length into your slick pussy with the other. Your eyes rolled back into your skull as your lover finally bottomed out inside you. The stretch burned so pleasingly, and the feeling of being filled up by Alastor was otherworldly. You could tell the pleasure was overwhelming for him as well because the moment his balls came flush against the underside of your pussy, he pulled away from your lips to let out a pitchy whine.
"Fuuuck, darling... hah, this is better than I fantasized, and trust me, I envisioned it a lot," Alastor cock was still inside your hot wet walls, throbbing painfully so inside your pussy as he allowed you to adjust to his size. Your shaky legs came up to wrap around his waist, keeping him flush against your body. "Al, please- fuck me," Your patience was long gone, completely erased by lust. Alastor's forehead fell to your shoulder as he delivered his first shallow thrust. His breath fanned over your heated flesh as his hips pulled back further before slamming deep inside your needy cunt. Your legs tightened around his waist as Alastor began to find his bearings. Each of his hands were now at your hips, his fingernails dug into your flesh as he pulled your body down on his cock to meet his thrusts. All you could do was whine into the crook of his neck as your fingertips began to play with his two-toned locks. "So good, so fucking g-good..." 
Alastor's teeth grazed your collarbone as his thrusts became harsh. The moment your hands began caressing his sensitive ears, his sharp fangs sunk into your skin. Your pussy pulsed wildly around his length from the mix of pleasure and pain, inspiring Alastor to fuck you harder. "Al! You're so deep, mhn... please... don't stop!" Your plea urged your lover on further. In a beat, his large palms were hooked under your thighs. He pushed your knees into your chest as he pulled his teeth out of your flesh, licking your blood from his lips as he towered over you. His thrusts were unrelenting, pelvis slamming into yours wildly, filling the room with the most obscene noises. Alastor was deeper than ever before from this new position, nudging your sweet spot with each upward thrust. It left you a trembling mess beneath him. Your hands dug into the sheets beside you as your lover fucked into you with reckless abandon. "You look so perfect like this... ah, my good girl... you're mine. All mine."
Alastor looked completely animalistic from where he towered above you. His fingernails were digging into the soft flesh of your thighs as he fucked you deep, and his lips were parted- allowing deep groans to slip past. His abdomen flexed with each sharp thrust he delivered, and his eyes were blown wide. His crimson gaze took in your every twitch; every sharp breath you took, memorizing it all. When one of his hands traveled from your hip to your pussy, you cried out. Alastor was quick to find your clit with the pad of his thumb. Your head thrashed wildly against the pillows from the added friction. The combination of your lover fucking up into you wildly, the tip of his cock prodding your sweet spot with each upward thrust, and the feeling of his thumb rubbing tight circles into your puffy bud was pleasantly overwhelming. Your end was nearing, and with the way Alastor's breath became more labored, you could tell he was almost at his peak, too. "Are you going to cum for me, my good girl? I need to feel you gush around me... fuck, can you do that for me, my sweet thing?" 
Alastor's filthy words were too much to bear. With one last thrust and flick of his thumb, you were milking his cock for all it was worth. "Yes- yes, yes! I'm Cumming- ah, Alastor!" His hips stuttered as you squirted around his cock. Your thighs shook wildly as your vision went blurry. Alastor worked you through your high, absolutely enamored by the sight of you coming undone beneath him. Not to mention the heavenly pleasure of your pussy spasming around his length, squeezing him like a vise. "Alastor! Please cum inside me, please, please, please!" You babbled as your vision began to unblur. The sight of Alastor's wild expression was the first thing you saw as he came into focus. His eyes flashed into radio dials, and his antlers began to grow in size. Before you knew it, his hips were stilling. "Hah, yeah? Want me to breed you? Stuff you full of my seed and make you a mommy? Take it like the good girl I know you are... you better not waste a single drop- fuuuck." Alastor ground his pelvis into yours, balls kissing the underside of your pussy as the first ropes of his cum rippled past his slit. Your lover groaned deeply, cock throbbing from deep inside your pussy as he emptied his load into your warm pussy. Your eyes widened as he continued to release his seed into your womb. There was so much. Alastor must have been really pent up for all these years—you thought. 
Alastor panted fiercely as he finally emptied everything he had inside you. You both remained still for a few beats more, trying to catch your breath. Alastor ducked his head low to capture your lips once more. The kiss was tender- sweet. As if your lover didn't fuck you senseless only moments ago. You began to feel him softening inside you as Alastor deepened the kiss. His body slowly gave out, exhaustion finally catching up to him. Your lover laid flat against you, still nestled deep inside your spent pussy. "You are so perfect, my dear. Tell me, are you alright? Are you hurting anywhere? Forgive me for... getting carried away," You smiled softly at him, crawling your hands to his face. You cupped his cheeks gently, soothing the pads of your thumbs over his cheekbones. "I'm okay, promise! That was... wow. Can't believe I was making us both wait for marriage until doing... that. I know still we haven't officially tied the knot, but I should have just thrown caution to the wind!" You giggled, causing Alastor to whine under his breath from how you clenched around his spent cock.
"All that matters is here and now, hm? You were truly marvelous, my dear! I didn't think I could become more enchanted by you, and yet..." Alastor was cut off by a yawn. You couldn't help the way your heart fluttered at the foreign sight. Everything felt right at this very moment, and you wished time would stop so that this memory wouldn't pass you by. You caressed his face lovingly, guiding his head to your shoulder. "The same could be said for me too! I love you, Alastor." You reached to your side, flipping the blanket that was hanging over the edge of the bed to cover your bare bodies. It wasn't perfect, but it would do for now. Alastor allowed himself to relax against your touch. The weight of him on top of you was comforting, and it felt safe having your lover so close. "I love you more, my dearest. More than words... more than humanly possible..." Alastor's voice fizzled out at the end of his sentence, and a moment later, you heard soft snores. You were grinning from ear to ear from Alastor's cute display. You could see the blanket lifting near his backside from how his tail swished from side to side. His ears twitched slightly against the top of his head when your hands came up to caress them. Your pussy pulsed when you felt his cock twitch from where it was still nestled deep within you as you played with his ears. They must have been really sensitive, you thought.
You leaned forward, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead, right over his scar. You reminisced on all your memories with Alastor that led you to this point as your eyes fluttered shut. The only thing you would change would be regaining your memories sooner. But as Alastor said; "All that matters is here and now." After all, you had the rest of your afterlife to spend with Alastor. And you planned on spending your days with him to the fullest. The last thing that crossed your mind before sleep overtook you was the promise of a proper wedding with your beloved. Even if Alastor and you didn't follow the traditional steps of relationships and intimacy, you still planned to experience all of your firsts; with him. 
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