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#mm i need a new tag though
aroace-poly-show · 1 month
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ummm revamped showtime at 25 mafuyu thoughts. smth smth her mom was a struggling actress who gave up on it and i am debating on whether she immediately pushes mafuyu to do acting as a way of living vicariously through mafuyu’s future success or her initially not allowing mafuyu to act bc she believes its a pointless and worthless thing to pursue from her own experience but then she sees actual potential in mafuyu and the way people praise her and decides to let her act. either way bc of her past failure she really pressures mafuyu into aiming for fame and stardom and performing on big famous stages when mafuyu originally only wanted to make people smile with shows. mafuyu then loses this true passion for shows and forgets why she wanted to do them at all like her whole thing in canon. yeah
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boygirlctommy · 4 months
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man i want to make an animatic about my ocs so bad
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sttoru · 6 months
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‘you finally got the results to your recent exams back — all which were passing grades. when breaking the happy news to your boyfriend, he comes up with a way to reward you for your hard work.’
☀︎|tags. older bf!gojo satoru x female reader. age gap (reader early 20’s, satoru early 30’s). fluff & smut. kinda porn with plot, kinda not. soft dom satoru; vanilla, praise, dirty talk, cunnilingus, p in v -> unprotected, body worship kinda, spooning position, little bit of breast play, mention of premature ejaculation kinda, creampie, size difference, reader gets called ‘princess, baby, pretty, adorable’. reader wears a short skirt. not beta read because i’m tired.
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“oh my god!” you almost drop your phone from the pure shock you just experienced. your hands shake as you look at the unexpected results reflected on the small screen.
satoru, who was minding his business in the kitchen, hurries into the bedroom the moment he hears your shriek. he was prepared to help you out with whatever had caused you to yell so loudly, though was surprisingly met with your beaming smile;
“oh, what got my princess so happy?” he asks with a grin of his own, stepping into the room. his gaze darts from the phone in your hand to your face and back again. satoru chuckles as you suddenly run up to hug him. he joyfully reincorporates the embrace; your happy mood being contagious.
you giggle and babble on about how you passed your two exams and how you ‘didn’t think you’d be able to attain such high grades’. your boyfriend hums and strokes your hair whilst you ramble, kissing the top of your head with a proud expression, “as expected of my smart little girl. i’m super proud of you.”
there goes the praise again — making your heart flutter in ways that no one else had done before. you sigh in content and bury your face into his chest. satoru pulls back after a moment, tenderly cupping your face so he could look into those pretty eyes of yours.
you’re his weakness. he knows you are — he’s always known you are, yet that adorable look on your face whenever you gaze up at him through your eyelashes never gets old.
that same look also makes him want to do unspeakable things to you; things that would have you crying from pure pleasure. you deserve to be shown what a true man would do for you out of love — what a true man like your lover would do to you for your own satisfaction and pleasure.
“i think my pretty girl deserves a reward for doing so well on her exams,” satoru whispers, slender fingers trailing from your jaw to your neck, brushing over your collar bone, “would you like that? a reward just f’you.”
you weren’t born yesterday. you knew exactly what he was indicating. you could tell by his loving yet lustful gaze, his fingers that sensually dragged along your skin and his tongue that darted out to subtly lick his lips. as if he was preparing to devour a five star meal.
which he was.
“f—ngh, satoru!”your legs were wrapped around his head, his mouth and tongue working their magic on your sopping cunt whilst his hands were holding you down by your hips. satoru hadn't wasted a single second after you agreed to his proposal. he instantly lifted your skirt up, pulled your panties down to your ankles and dived right between your legs.
your thighs were clamping down on his head—almost forcing him to continue pleasuring you. not that your lover minded; he'd gladly do this again and again if he could. satoru leaves sloppy kisses all over your pussy, drenching it in not only your own bodily fluids, but his own saliva as well.
“mm, a little needy, aren't ya?” he mutters whilst softly kissing up and down your slit. he was admiring both the sight and the noises — your back arching, hips stuttering and voice shaking with need. the older man certainly did enjoy the view of your cute little face contorting with pleasure each time the top of his tongue teased your clit, “yeah, c'mon - let me see your face while i eat you out.”
you hesitated, however eventually removed your hands that tried (and failed) to hide your flustered expression. satoru lets out an almost inaudible whine at the revelation; his cock begging to be freed from its confines. he wanted to fuck you into oblivion, but today was your day. he longed to satisfy your own desires first.
satoru was nasty with it too. the unmistakeable, erotic and wet noises of him slurping up your juices mingle with your moans and whines. the white locks of his hair brush against the insides of your thighs and right above your clit—tickling you in all the right ways and adding to the pleasure you were receiving.
“fuck,” the older man curses under his breath and the warmth against your pussy makes your lower body twitch. his big hands squeeze around your hips, silently warning you to stay still so he could properly enjoy you, “you're gonna make me cum before i can make you finish.”
his words were true. satoru could get off from simply watching and hearing his girl enjoy herself. he has no shame in admitting that fact; he can't help it when you’re this incredibly gorgeous. he grinds his crotch against the soft mattress whilst his mouth continues to eat you out in a painfully slow yet tender manner.
“t-toru, g'nna cum.” you whimper and try to grind your cunt against his tongue in search for that last push that would send you over the edge. your high-pitched voice sounding so extremely whiny sealed the deal for your boyfriend. he pulls his head away from your tingling cunt - which is a second away from reaching its orgasm - and sits up on his knees.
satoru smirks once he hears your mumbled complaints. one large hand settles on top of your head and gives your scalp a few relaxing rubs whilst the other hastily undoes the zipper of his pants. he tilts his head to the right, glancing down at your squirming form with a lopsided grin, “d’ya want another treat, princess?”
of course, you nod. you were aching for that release that'd been building up in your lower stomach— needing to reach that long awaited climax. your eyes follow satoru's movements as he pulls his pants down. again, as painfully slow as possible.
“just a nod? tha’s all i get?” your partner pouts, nonchalantly revealing his lengthy cock for you to feast your eyes upon. he sighs dramatically before trailing two slender fingers down to your cunt, gathering your slick and using it to coat his tip. the pre-cum mixes with your own fluids and the erotic sight makes your mouth water, “i know for sure that my smart little girl can use her big words to get what she wants — let me hear ‘em.”
whilst you gather your thoughts and words, satoru lays down behind you, helping your body onto its right side. you’re facing the wall and thus couldn’t see that cocky expression he had on. his arms pull your back flush against his chest, positioning your hips the right way and lifting one of your legs up properly.
“p-please, i need to have you inside me. can’t wait any longer, ‘toru.” you manage to beg in the end. the warmth radiating from your lover’s body from behind you only increases your sinful craving. he teases you by kissing your nape whilst his hands get rid of your top—fingers then immediately fondling your tits.
his husky voice whispers a 'good girl' in your ear and that’s all you got as an answer before you felt his cockhead prod at your entrance. satoru hisses at just the slightest of contact—not sure if he could last long this time. he feels like he will explode the moment his tip glides inside your gaping hole.
“so beautiful, can’t believe how lucky i got.” the white-haired man grunts as his lips refuse to leave your skin. from your neck to your shoulders and upper arms — he didn't leave a single inch uncovered. it was almost tortureous: the way he grinded his tip against your pussy as he touches the rest of your body with his hands and mouth.
you whine and rub your hips back in the same rhythm. you were indirectly begging him to put it in already and satoru took notice of it. since you had begged once before, he won't coax you into doing it again.
with a light moan, he slides his throbbing cock all the way up the tight space. the squeal you let out at the sensation of being stretched out to your maximum capacity, made satoru murmur a few more words of praise in your ear.
“you're doing so good - taking me so well,” his voice was smooth like honey, the same goes for his soft thrusts. the way your pussy grips onto his cock makes him see stars. your boyfriend never gets tired of making love to you because the hypnotising feeling of being inside you doesn't ever get old. it feels like the first time he had stuffed you full of his cock over and over again.
you were feeling light-headed by now; your eyes rolling back as your mouth formed an 'o'-shape—the cockdrunk look satoru loves to see on you. the squelshy 'flop flop flop' noises echo throughout the entire room with every deep thrust of his hips against the plump flesh of your ass.
satoru's long fingers go from playing with your nipples to groping your hips and ass. his eyes gaze downwards, watching as the fat of your bottom ripples after his pace quickens. you were trying your best to keep up, but the overstimulation of all your senses made it hard to match your movements to his.
“aht aht. you've worked hard enough on your exams already, princess. just lay back and allow me to do everything.” satoru (jokingly) scolds you. this was your reward and he didn't want you putting in any effort if your body couldn’t handle it. he wants you to relax like you deserve after a stressful period of exams and assignments. he’ll happily do all the work instead.
“oh, mmh! too good — fuck!” you mewl. your fingers curl around the bedsheets that moved back and forth with your bodies. a bigger hand settles on top of yours — intertwining your fingers and holding onto them tightly. you could feel satoru smiling against the skin of your shoulder as he kisses it, absolutely enjoying your little reactions to his thrusts.
“yeah? am i doing well?” he asks in a teasing tone. he didn’t have to ask that question; he knows he’s doing well judging purely by your bodily reactions. your back arches and your limbs shake uncontrollably, “am i pleasing my baby well enough?”
you can only moan out a couple ‘yes’’s, but that is enough of a confirmation. the older man is on cloud nine as he drags his thick cock in and out of your desperate cunt. every time he pulls out he can feel your pussy try to swallow him back in — it drove him nuts.
“i love how you look whilst i stuff you full of my cock. so innocent, yet so.. lewd at the same time.” satoru comments through another groan, the hand on your hip holding your body still so he could fuck his dick deeper into you. the tip of his cock nearly reaches your cervix due to the angles he uses to move inside you.
your long-awaited and much deserved orgasm was right around the corner. your moans increase in frequency and volume which was enough of a sign for satoru to increase the pleasure. his fingers trail down your hips and to the center between your open legs—thumb putting pressure on your clit.
the extra stimulation has got you biting into the pillow beneath your head, your lower body writhing around as your lover rubs the small bundle of nerves in circles and from side to side. his hand moves fast—its mission being to help you reach that intense orgasm you were chasing after.
satoru is feeling it himself as well. his cock aches and twitches as it gets ready to drain its balls inside your pussy, “cum with me baby—fuck—cum on my cock whilst i dump my load all the way into your tight little cunt.”
that was all the encouragement you needed. your eyes roll back and your body convulses as the waves of pleasure come crashing down all at once. you could feel satoru’s hips desperately push against your ass, filling you completely with both his dick and hot spurts of cum. you could feel the warm essence leavings its evidence in your womb.
the bedsheets underneath your two bodies was drenched in your slick after you calmed down a bit. your boyfriend continues to place comforting kisses all over your naked body, trying to show his appreciation for you in all the ways he could.
“you did so well. you deserved this, princess.” satoru utters softly, the hair clinging onto his forehead. he gently pulls his soft cock out after a minute of making sure that every drop of his cum stayed inside of your cunt. he loves the feeling of fulfilment that it gives him — loves the fact that he filled his girl to the brim.
you smile weakly. you were fucked out: completely and utterly. it felt good and you were satisfied with your reward. it even gave you enough motivation to do well on future exams, “thanks, ‘toru. ‘m feeling sleepy though.”
satoru snickers. you were always so adorable and vulnerable around him after the two of you partake in such activities. he loves it and it makes him want to take care of you.
“you deserve plenty of rest, so go ahead.” your lover smiles gently, kissing the top of your head after you close your eyes. one of his hands hold yours whilst the other rubs your side soothingly, “i won't leave. i'll stay right here with you whilst you sleep. i promise."
satoru knew you needed to hear those words in your vulnerable state. and surely enough, you smile once more and nod. your body falls asleep the moment his strong arms pull you into a loving hug.
his lips attach to your ear in the form a chaste peck. his smooth voice was the last thing you heard as you faded into an unconscious state;
“i love you so much.”
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🏷️: @marimogf @osaemu @screampied @sukuette @sachiyoh @giannitaa @morinuu
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harrysfolklore · 4 months
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ring hard launch - blurb
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the content we got today just SCREAMS fiancé!harry for me so i came up with this, enjoy !
gif by @sunkissedlouis <3
MASTERLIST | MY PATREON
If there was something that was definitely at the top of your list of favorite activities, was spending time with Harry.
It didn't matter if it was getting groceries, joining him for a bike ride or simply laying on the couch together, every moment that you spent together brought you contentment and joy that you couldn't find anywhere else.
And now that he was your fiancé, it was safe to say that both of you wanted to be glued to each other every single minute.
Harry proposed the morning of New Year's Eve, in the comfort of your home with both of you in your pajamas as you enjoyed homemade breakfast bagels, and it was absolutely perfect.
Ever since, you had been happier than ever, sharing the news with your family and closest friends and enjoying your engagement in private without prying eyes from paparazzi, fans and media.
"We better win tonight," Your train of thought was interrupted by Harry's voice, you were currently heading to the Luton vs Man United game, and even though you couldn't care less about football, your need to be close to him all the time made you say yes when he asked you to join him, "Thank you for tagging along, baby. I know this is not your scene so it's nice you came."
"I'm just here for the drinks and snacks," you teased, watching him roll his eyes at you, "And to enjoy the evening with my handsome fiancé, of course."
"There we go," he smiled now, grabbing your hand and placing a small kiss to the ring on your finger.
Ever since you got engaged, that had became his favorite habit, and it made your heart flutter every single time.
"It sucks that I have to take it off," you said, making him look at you with a raised eyebrow, "The ring, I mean. I have to take it off before we get out of the car, otherwise headlines will go crazy and Jeff is going to freak out."
"Mm-hmm," he paused to think, eyes darting for the road to you, "What if... you don't have to take it off?"
"What do you mean?" you said, noticing that you were about to enter the back of the stadium.
"I mean..." he grabbed your hand again, tugging the ring affectionately, "What if we let the world know about it? I talked to Jeff and the rest of the team last week, they said we could make it public whenever we felt like it, at our own terms. So why don't we do it today?"
Harry parked the car at the spot that was reserved for him and turned to look at you with a wide smile, waiting for your answer.
"Are you sure?" you smiled back at him, noticing the glow in his eyes that almost made you melt.
"Couldn't be more sure, love. Besides, the album is coming soon and everyone is going to connect the dots as soon as they listen to the first song, might as well give them an early heads up."
"Let's do it," you said, leaning over to kiss him, "I feel like everyone is going to focus on the fact that you're finally outside and with brand new hair, they won't even notice the rock on my finger."
Harry rolled his eyes again and gave you another kiss, "I swear to god, woman. You're something else."
You headed inside of the stadium to the VIP suit you were going to watch the game in, walking hand in hand with your engagement ring glistening on your finger, cameras around filming and taking pictures of both of you.
"Do you think twitter is freaking out yet?" you asked Harry as you settled on your seats.
"No idea, baby, I don't use that app," he shrugged, "Do you want anything to drink?"
"Would you get me something fruity that has alcohol that doesn't quite taste like alcohol? That's the only way I won't be bored to death."
"Sure thing." Harry laughed and kissed the side of your head before standing up to get your drink, coming back a few minutes later with exactly what you asked and a bottle of sparkling water for himself.
"So we're rooting for Man U, right?" you asked as you took a sip from your drink.
"Seven years together, months away from getting married, yet you still don't know I'm a Man U ride or die," he put a hand on his chest, "I don't think this is going to work."
"I was just teasing, drama queen," you pecked his cheek, "I know your true loves are Man U, the Green Bay Packers, peas and Fleetwood Mac."
"And you," he winked, making you roll your eyes with affection and take another sip from your drink.
A few minutes into the game, you found yourself quite invested on it, constantly asking Harry about the stuff you didn't understand and getting nervous when the other team was about to score or your team missed a goal.
"Lord, I don't want to watch," you said as a player from the opposite team was getting ready to hit a penalty, hiding your face against Harry's shoulder, "Harry! You're supposed to be watching the game, you've been staring at me for half of it now."
"Sorry, you're just too cute," he kissed the crown of your head, "You can watch now, he failed it."
"Thank god."
By the end of the game, you were both on your feet, cheering as Man United secured a win. Harry was ecstatic, and you found yourself caught up in the excitement, cheering alongside him.
While you were engulfed in your own bubble during the game, cameras has caught up on the ring of your finger, and Harry and you immediately became a world trending topic, with fans speculating whether you were actually engaged or not.
As you laid in bed scrolling through the millions of tweets about the game Harry finally emerged from the bathroom, ready to get in the covers.
"Are you reading about us?" he asked, sliding into bed beside you.
"Yeah," you replied, showing him some of the tweets, "But I don't think it was quite clear for some of your fans, some of them don't think we're really engaged."
"Well, I guess it'll be clear when the album comes out."
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joelsgreys · 4 months
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mornings like these
Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader
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summary: There’s a reason you’re always late to morning patrol. That reason’s name is Joel Miller.
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. JACKSON ERA. READER HAS NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION, NO AGE SPECIFIED FOR READER. established relationship though it’s lightly implied it’s a fairly new relationship, hints of fluff, hints of smut, morning wood, very brief mentions of oral sex (female receiving) and fingering.
word count: < 1k
a/n: this is quite literally nothing. just a blurb i wrote in 20 ish or so minutes. it could have been a whole thing, but i am in the middle of editing a long wip update. i needed a break from it and this happened. hardly any plot, hardly any porn, what would you even call this? lol
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You wake with a gentle start, your eyes fluttering open.
Sunlight filters in through the sheer white curtains.
Soft. Warm. Golden.
A strong arm tightens around you.
“Mm,” he mumbles from beside you. “S’nice.”
His voice is deeper than usual, thick with sleep.
You’re still getting used to it. To mornings like these.
Waking up next to him—with him.
Naked in his bed, wrapped in his sheets, in his arms.
You’re laying on your side, your back against his chest.
You feel him already, hard on curve of your ass.
Suddenly, all you can think about is the night before. 
Every deep, swollen kiss he gave you.
Every sweet, loving word he’d whispered to you. 
Every minute of every hour he’d spent worshiping your body like he was getting to know it for the first time all over again.
“It is nice,” you agree with him, exhaling a small sigh of content. Finding his large hand splayed over your lower belly, you lace your fingers together with his, the same long, thick fingers that stretched the tight walls of your aching cunt all night long. “After three days of pouring rain, this is very nice. It almost makes me look forward to going out on patrol.”
Chuckling softly, Joel nuzzles his nose into your bare shoulder, deeply inhaling the subtle, delicate scent of milk and honey soap. “Don’t mean the weather, sweet girl.”
You raise an eyebrow. “No?”
He gently nips at your flesh with his teeth. “Nope.”
“Then what do you mean?” you press, innocently.
As if you don’t already know.
“This.” There’s a brief pause. “Wakin’ up with you.”
Giggling, you tease, “You’ve gone soft for me, Miller.”
“And so what if I have?” He’s grinning, you can feel it.
Slowly, he begins to lower your intertwined hands and drags them further down your belly.
You know what he’s doing. The man is insatiable.
“Joel,” you utter his name breathlessly.
“What is it, honey?” he coos into the nape of your neck.
Oh yes, you know exactly what he’s doing.
Pulling your hand out of his, you roll onto your back and turn your head, your nose lightly bumping his. “Don’t start,” you warn him in the sternest voice you can possibly muster.
There’s a mischievous glimmer in his dark brown eyes.
“Don’t know what you’re talkin’ ‘bout, darlin’.”
His cock is rock hard, poking into your hip.
“We have patrol in an hou—”
Joel’s hand slips between your thighs and you’re cut off by the sound of your own loud gasp as he drags a finger languidly along your slick, warm folds.
He skims your jawline with his nose. “Now, what were you sayin’?”
“Oh my fuck,” you curse as he sinks his finger into your cunt, burying it to his knuckle. “Joel, Tommy will kill us if we’re late to our shift again—” You moan as he curls his finger upwards, your hips bucking up off of the bed and into his hand.
That’s where Joel Miller had you.
Right in the palm of his hand.
In every which way possible.
“I can stop,” he murmurs against your cheek, the scruff of his beard tickling your soft skin. “Just say the word, baby, and I’ll stop.”
You don’t tell him to stop.
Of course you don’t want him to stop.
You never, ever want him to stop.
Moments later, Joel’s head is between your thighs and he’s devouring your cunt like he’s having breakfast. His tongue swirls around your clit, his fingers thrusting in and out of your pussy, a mere warm up before you take his throbbing cock.
Hands tangled in his graying, dark brown curls, you forget all about getting to patrol on time.
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divider credit to @saradika 🤍
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tojipie · 1 year
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BABES i love ur writing sm ugh can i request a how prisoner toji met the love of his life? mwah thank you
prison bf series linked here !
content: (p in v smut, car sex, fluff, angst, fem!reader)
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you met toji on a weeknight during the short time you worked as a waiter in the city.
the restaurant was empty, save for him at a table in the corner. it was 30 mins before closing time, and the older man showed no signs of leaving. whether that was to your chagrin or your delight was still unclear.
“so that’s the foie gras and the bottle of La Grande Dame?” you ask sleepily, setting the meal down with a shaky hand.
“that’s right.” the raven haired man tells you, pouring himself a glass of the ridiculously pricey wine. “thanks kid.”
to say that you were nervous would be an understatement, you were terrified. the man in front of you was gorgeous, broad with raven hair and a deep scar running the height of his lips. you’d be blushing if it weren’t for the fatigue that’d settled throughout the length of your body. 9 hour shifts were no joke.
toji glances over at you, taking in the tremble of your hands. you’re a sweet little thing, probably new to the college you attend, working past midnight to pay off whatever you still owe from last semester.
“hey.” he whispers, motioning to the table, “sit down for a little.”
you glance around the restaurant in horror, he’s not talking to you right? he can’t be. you slowly let him lead you into the chair that lies opposite to his, sighing at the relief you feel in your thighs and shoulders.
“thank you.” you mumble, laying your head down on the cool wood of table. he chuckles at that, watching you rub the aches from your neck and shoulders. you don’t care who sees, much less if this interaction costs you your job.
“tired?” he teases, pushing his plate towards you.
“have some, pretty girls need to eat.”
“mm no thank you. i don’t like duck.” you mumble, letting the deep bass of his laughter lull you right to sleep.
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you were fired within minutes, that much is obvious. doomed to hand in your little name tag and apron while the raven haired man bickers with your manager at the door.
“you call yourself a businessman? you work her like a fucking dog and you think that makes you a pimp or something? i told her to nap. she fucking needed the sleep!”
you tug on the sleeve of his suit jacket, urging him to follow you out the door. toji sighs, running hand through his hair.
“it’s ok.” you tell him, “i was gonna quit before spring break came anyways.”
sleeping on the job at a Michelin star restaurant probably wasn’t the best course of action. though it wasn’t all bad, you did end up receiving the best fuck of your life that same night.
“oh my god—fuck! oh my god.” you pant, digging your fingernails into the driver’s seat headrest. the raven haired man ruts into you from below, wrapping both hands around your waist to use as leverage.
“shit, you’re a nice piece of ass kid.” he mutters, reaching down to rub your little button with the pad of his thumb. you feel your stomach erupt in flames at the crude compliment. why hadn’t you tried fucking customers before?
you hang onto the back of the seat for dear life, wailing as you drip all over his thighs.
“look, that’s all for me?” he asks, pulling your cheeks apart to see where the two of you connect. the older man leans forward to suck on your neck, voice shaky with the force of his impending climax.
“you’re gonna make me fucking cum, you know that? fuck.” the way he holds you so sweetly deeply contrasts the filth he spews right into your skin. you’ve never been this cock-drunk in your life, babbling nonsense in the back of a horrifyingly spacious bmw while a man you met an hour ago pummels your cunt open.
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it’s quiet as the two of you drive back to your place. toji’s suit jacket is draped around your shoulders, shielding you from the frigid night air. the windows are cracked to let the cold in, no doubt to try and get all the glass in the car to unfog.
jesus. you just want to go to bed.
“this is me.” you tell him, gathering your bag from the floor to enter your apartment. the raven haired stranger slips you a card with a number on it. you pocket it and thank him, giddy at his implication of seeing you again.
“i had fun tonight.” you tell him shyly, leaning over to peck the scar on his mouth. he groans, pulling you towards him to kiss your forehead.
“you take care of yourself ok? no more dead end jobs.” you nod, kissing him again.
“here.” he says sternly, slipping a rubber-banded roll of cash through the opening in your purse.
you pause, stomach turning sour at the gesture.
“i’m not a hooker, you don’t need to pay me just because we had sex.” you mutter, digging in your bag to give the money back.
“you know that’s not why i gave it to you.” he tells you plainly. tucking a loose strand of your behind your ear.
“do what you need to do, pay off what you need to pay, and then call me so i can take you out on a real date.”
you pause, looking at the ground shyly.
“ok?” he asks.
you nod, reaching to intertwine your fingers.
“ok.”
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tag list ! <3 🏷️
@honeybee54321 @m150-50up @kuryoomi @t4naiis @serendippindots @sillyalo @levixbby @powerrwa @tojishugetiddies
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kquil · 4 months
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DIVORCING ORION BLACK
⌈ A Marauders Era Fix-It-Fic - featuring Reader as Walburga Black but better ⌋
LAST UPDATED : 12/05/24 | [dd/mm/yy]
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SERIES SUM. : You wake up in pitch blackness and under excruciating pain. It isn't too long before you realise that you've been transported into the world of Harry Potter and that you've taken the place of a familiar villainess - Walburga Black.
You need to escape the toxic Black family. You can only do that by divorcing Orion Black AND YOU'RE DEFINITELY TAKING THE KIDS!
UPDATE SCHEDULE : on the first day of every month, a new chapter will be posted at 9am GMT time ; the first chapter is the only exception ;)
CHAPTERS :
i. ARRIVAL
you take a familiar villainess' place, but it's all just a dream, right? (special thanks to @thebestofoneshots for beta reading this chapter!)
ii. SHOPPING (1/2)
life isn't easy in the Black Family household, you need to get out, you also need a new wand. Sirius does too as well as a few other things; time to go shopping.
iii. SHOPPING (2/2)
so many stores are left on the list, the boys finally eat delicious food outside, detours are a natural endeavour and you meet a collection of interesting shopkeepers. what a day~ 
iv. ... v. ... ...
DISCLAIMER : please read
TAGS : son sirius black/mother reader ; son regulus black/mother reader ; isekai au/transfering worlds au ; walburga black is evil ; not reader though hehe~ ; hurt/comfort ; fluff ; platonic fluff ; second chances ; reader basically adopts remus, barty crouch jr and peter pettigrew ; peter pettigrew redemption arc? ; but he never betrays the marauders in the first place so... ; remus gets a better life ; reader becomes a semi-political figure to help werewolves + house elves ; reader assumes a male alias ; alternating chapters from different povs directly effected by reader's actions ; reader is a powerful independent business woman and single mother ; reader is a milf ; reader secretly hates dumbledore ; reader hates orion black ; reader hates JKR (we all do) ; divorce ; mentions of child abuse (physical and mental and emotional) ; mentions of neglect ; angry reader ; canon jily ; mentions of wolfstar ; regulus being a precious baby ; sirius has his moments too ; reader being a powerful trio with minerva and pomfrey ; reader potentially adopting the black sisters (bellatrix, andromeda and narcissa) ; reader adopts everyone! ; there'll be ocs ; reader leaves to live her dream cottagecore life ; happy ending! ; i'll add more tags in the future
TAGLIST : @katdahlali @skepvids @agent-tempest @timhalamet @lovelybaka @cherrysxuya @ttulipwritezz @ireallywannasleep127 @cloudlst @fortheeeefics @younmey @googie-jeon @unstablereader @cassie6392 @kneelforloki
@enamoredwithbella @arcanumofthestars @bookworm124 @sonics-atelier @yours-truly-maya @honkravenous @theunwcnted @venuseuripedis @fredsbetch @iciel @anuncalledbridge @turtlesareeverywhere @b-i-h-i @crispymoonperfection @amethyistheart @whodis-26 @empress-simps @smaryamsstuff @thoughtfulpandamentality @maraudersgirlie @dragon-chica @darkcademiasss @ch3rry-lips @inlovewithfictionalmen444 @hermionelove @marsjupitersaturnn @champomiel [40/50]
SERIES TAGLIST : OPEN
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sidekick-hero · 4 months
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(steddie | teen | 1.2k | tags: rockstar!eddie, drummer!steve, secret relationship, part of @thefreakandthehair and @firefly-party and mine project pickup note | @steddielovemonth prompt love is staying in bed for five extra minutes because you can't tear yourself away from them just yet by @starryeyedjanai | art by Kei | story in the same verse by Lex | AO3)
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Steve came to slowly, like swimming through molasses, his mind caught somewhere between dreaming and being awake. In his dream, he had been lying in the sun, his head cushioned in Eddie's lap, Eddie's fingers running through his hair, humming a soft melody Steve had never heard before.
Slowly, the melody changes to the sound of soft snoring, and the soft thing under his head isn't Eddie's lap, it's his chest, gently rising and falling with each snore. Steve presses his smile into the warm skin beneath him at the thought of Eddie's face when he tells him he snores.
Some things are worth waiting for, though, and he knows the perfect moment to reveal this particular piece of information will come.
He has no idea what time it is. Judging by the morning light filtering into the room, it's just after sunrise, the sun's rays piercing through the blinds and casting a warm, golden glow that gradually fills Steve's hotel room.
Moving as carefully as he can, he cranes his neck to check the aged alarm clock on the bedside table. It tells him that he was right, it's 7:58 a.m., and the sun has risen just minutes before him. The light filtering in is soft and diffused, making the colors seem muted yet rich, with shades of pale orange, pink, and yellow dancing across the surfaces. Long shadows stretch out elegantly, accentuating the contours of furniture and objects in the room.
It's Steve's favorite time of day. There's a sense of quiet serenity in this early morning moment as the world slowly awakens. It offers a brief respite before the hustle and bustle of the day begins.
These days, early mornings hold an even more special place in his heart because it's the only time of day he can just look at Eddie.
Sometimes Steve thinks Eddie is like a hummingbird, always moving until all his energy is used up and he falls into a deep slumber that almost looks like he's dead to the world. It allows Steve to soak him up undisturbed and unabashed. His fingers carefully exploring the hills and valleys of hard muscle and soft flesh, he can drink in the swirling ink on Eddie's pale skin.
It's such a stark contrast from the rest of the day.
Eddie often seems driven. By the perceived expectations of others, by his own fears of falling short. By his own demons, which Steve has only glimpsed. But as the darkness of the night gives way to a new day, Eddie looks at ease.
It's probably too soon to think, but Steve hopes it's because he's now sharing Eddie's bed. That Eddie feels safe with him, safe enough to let go of all the things that plague his beautiful but sometimes overwhelmingly loud mind.
That's why it pains Steve to be the one to wake Eddie from his peaceful slumber and bring him back to reality. But they have a sound check at 9:15 because the venue has had some problems lately and they need to make sure everything goes off without a hitch tonight. This whole tour means too much to them, to Eddie, for it not to be perfect.
Pressing a gentle kiss just above where Steve can feel the steady beating of Eddie's heart, he softly calls Eddie's name. Not surprisingly, nothing happens, so another kiss follows the first, this time on Eddie's collarbone.
"Eddie, c'mon," he tries again, this time closer to Eddie's ear, eliciting a soft murmur. "We have to get up, the soundcheck -"
"Mm, they can check the sound without us," his - Eddie's - voice comes in a slightly drawn out tone. "Don't wanna get up."
Eddie, obviously not fully awake yet, wraps his arms around Steve and buries his face in Steve's hair.
"I know, ba-" Steve stumbles over the pet names that want to come out more and more now that they're so much closer than when he first started touring with Corroded Coffin. "I know. But we can grab a big coffee with enough sugar in it to put an elephant into a sugar coma, and when the check is done, we can come back to the hotel and sneak into your room and I can make it worth your while."
Steve's tone is low, almost a purr, as he says this. The others don't know about them yet, although Steve thinks that at least Robin and Chrissy have their suspicions. And Jeff has been watching them more closely as well. He's sure that they'll tell them soon, but first they want to enjoy getting to know each other this way, without their friends getting involved.
"Five more minutes and I will make it worth your while. Whaddya say, big boy?"
Before Steve can answer, most likely telling Eddie no, we're going to be late and how are you going to explain that to the others, Eddie rolls them both over until Steve lands on his back with a soft umph. Above him, Eddie is smiling down at him, suddenly much more awake than seconds before.
"Hi," he says, nudging Steve's nose with his own.
Steve doesn't even try to fight the dopey smile, even as he rolls his eyes at Eddie trying to get what he wants by playing dirty. It's so Eddie, just like the wolfish grin on his face.
"I'll make this the best five minutes of your life, Harrington. Scout's honor."
Steve snorts. "Scout's honor? I doubt you ever talked to a scout in your life."
"Oh yeah. In fact, I'm sleeping with one. And I'm about to kiss one before I rock his world."
"See, that's where you're wrong."
"Is that so?"
This makes Steve laugh out loud. "You're ridiculous."
"And you love it," Eddie replies, then hesitates as his choice of words seems to register with him.
Before the moment between them ends in awkwardness, Steve leans in to kiss Eddie on the nose. "How did you know I was a Boy Scout?"
Steve's distraction works, and the worry in Eddie's eyes is replaced by mischief. "Just a guess, but good to know."
"Ass."
"I have it on good authority that you like my ass," Eddie teases, and Steve has to agree. He really does. As much as he likes everything else about Eddie. How much is becoming a problem.
Instead of saying any of these things, Steve looks over at the alarm clock, which now reads 08:04. He clicks his tongue in mock disappointment. "I think your five minutes are up, and I have to say, not the world-rocking I was expecting, Munson."
"Oh you..." Eddie growls before swooping in to capture Steve's lips in a deep kiss. It turns into another, and another, the dim light in the room growing brighter around them as they become lost in each other.
Eddie makes it to sound check just in time, while Steve is ten minutes late, carrying five cups of coffee. He hopes no one notices the bright grin Eddie flashes with the first sip of his overtly sweet coffee, or the wink he gives Steve.
A promise is a promise, and Steve intends to keep them all when it comes to Eddie.
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picturingchappell · 5 months
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𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙣𝙚𝙜𝙤𝙩𝙞𝙖𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙨 𝙢𝙪𝙨𝙚 | 𝙚. 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙖𝙢𝙨
pairing: nepo baby!business owner!ellie williams x afab!business owner!reader
tags: smut, fingering (r receiving), pet names/name calling?? (dirty girl, pretty, good girl, baby), slight praise??, god why is tagging so hard, mild language, unethical business practices??, thoughts are green, ellie lowk an asshole, but both reader and ellie are pretty harsh to eachother, maybe that’s it, bare with me if i forget something pls. 😭🙏
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a/n: i wrote this directly on tumblr bc i did NAWT feel like pulling up google docs today saur the format might be a lil off. i was watching this show on netflix called ‘locked up’, and like an episode from season two is what inspired this!!! 😜 the show is good honestly it just drags on sometimes!!! ive actually never actually written smut any times before this (believe it or not hehe) anyways, let’s get into it!!!
P.S - DEDICATED TO @sweetysaccharine YAWP YAWP!!!! <333 HOPE U ENJOY POOKIEEEE
P.P.S - don’t look at the typos or i will find you (IM JOKING)
rumors traveled fast, and sometimes it wasn’t always good. for one, they could be infuriating. a company you’d been toe to toe with for.. quite some time had gotten a new ceo. some young girl. articles appeared online about some kinda nepotism scandal. the photo on the top of the article displayed a photo of the previous ceo — joel miller, and the new owner, ellie. they looked happy. but why were they accused of something as harmful as nepotism? long story short, joel turned his brother down for the position (even though he was the better option) so ellie could have it. favoritism of sorts. but god was she infuriating! her stupid, flashy displays of wealth (that probably didn’t even belong to her) made you so mad! and also, her arrogance and her constant need to compete with you was very infuriating aswell. you had influence, she had money. wouldn’t these things be considered as a double kill in some perfect world? yes. would you ever even consider working with someone like her? absolutely not. you couldn’t even stand being in the same vicinity as her whenever you two ended up at the same social events.
imagine that terrible, ugly feeling of anger that coursed hot through your veins once finding out she’d brought possibly one of the biggest clients you could’ve ever had. it was one thing for her to shove it in your face that she was wealthy but this? she’d completely overstepped. storming your way through the companies large building, you find yourself at her offices door knocking like a madwoman. “open the goddamn door, williams!” you yell as you attempt to open the door on your own. she doesn’t say anything, but you’re just almost certain she’s smirking or something. she opens the door with this.. look. it was weird. a perfect mixture of condescending, arrogance, and ‘i know what i did and i don’t regret it’. “are you insane?” “mm.. yeah. i guess so.” you laugh, dumbfounded by her. “how bout you come into my office for a seat and a drink?” she asked with a raised eyebrow. “let’s handle this civilly, shall we? knowing you, i have the feeling that this could get real ugly.” she pushed open the door with that same condescending/arrogant smile. of course, reluctantly, you walk inside. maybe this could be resolved civilly.
the sound of some smooth music played. it sounded like micheal buble or something. she walks around her desk to pour you a glass of bourbon. she hands it to and you just hold it. “it’s not poisoned, see?” she says before taking a sip. you take a sip and of it before putting the glass on her desk. “so, i realized that.. i have something you want.” the something being that client. “why else would i be here? that was a really petty move and you know that.” she chuckled. “yknow, i could just.. refer them back to you.” initially, you’re in disbelief. ellie? being generous? no way. she must’ve completely lost it. “but! it comes with a price.” of course it does. nothing was free, not in this economy. you kept your expectations low for this very reason. you raise an eyebrow at her. “we could work together. become business partners.”
she turns her music up a little. she dances her way over to you, circling you a bit. “no chance, ellie. how could i ever work with someone like you?” she chuckled again. “why wouldn’t you work with ‘someone like me’? you have something that i want aswell.” “what?” “power. influence. however you may wanna word it. i admire that.” it had to be some sick joke. why would she wanna work with you? “shouldn’t all your daddys money be more than enough to keep you in a position of power?” you quarry, then crossing your arms. a part of you didn’t believe that she’d been the one asking you for help.
“just think about it. me, giving you money. you, drawing power hungry clients in with that pretty face of yours. we’d work together like yin and yang.” she proposed before taking another sip of the drink in her glass. that was her giving a go at an analogy. was it good? she didn’t know. did she care? not at all. “you bullshitting me, williams?” “not at all. all you gotta do.. is say ‘yes’. cmon.” she offers her hand, those pretty slender fingers and that tattoo that peeking from underneath that black button up shirt were just so.. enticing. you were in your head, just thinking. was this a good idea? could i trust her? she probably has bad intentions. but she was so tempting. this had to be one of the seven deadly sins or something.
she snaps infront of your face. “where’d you go?” she asks. “nowhere.” you respond quickly. “so, you taking the offer or not? or.. will i have to convince you?” she takes a step closer to you. temptation taints your brain.
you’re not in control of your thoughts anymore. ellie was.
her hand seeks solace on your waist. “shouldn’t finding business like this be considered illegal?” you whisper to her. “im not a law abiding woman. and quite frankly, i don’t give two shits.” maybe it wouldn’t be illegal if nobody knew. but all you thought about was her. how she smells. how she’s looking at you. how her hands feel on your body. you can’t stop yourself. your lips crash down onto hers. your fingers tangle in her auburn hair as the both of you kiss passionately. she brings you to her desk, knocking stuff over as she sat you on her desk.
glass shattered, pictures were knocked out of their frames, and her computer mouse was.. somewhere. your back arches into her touch as you let out a soft moan into her mouth. she takes the opportunity to slide her tongue into your mouth. in the competition of dominance between your tongues, she reigns supreme. her hands slide up your body and end up on your oxford button up shirt. she doesn’t unbutton it, she rips that shit open. “i’ll get you a new one.” she mumbled as the buttons from the shirt scatter across the room.
“you’d better. or else id have to come back here and get it by force.” “oh please, you’ll be back here for more reasons than a goddamn shirt.” she said as she peppers kisses down to your jawline, then your neck. “don’t leave any marks.” “but why?” “oh, i dunno, cause i don’t want anyone asking me who i had sex with?” “who gives a shit? your workers get paid to look the other way, don’t they?”
well, she makes a good point. and you can’t argue with a point as valid as that. she sinks her teeth into a sweet spot of your neck, making you moan out as she runs her tongue along the new mark. she sticks her tongue out again to run it all the way down to one of your boobs. the sensation makes you shiver. “wore this pretty bra for me, didntcha? you were just expecting this. you must’ve wanted me to touch you like this, didn’t you? dirty girl. must’ve been waiting for me to bend you over this table.” she rambled all while stripping you of your bra, then leaving soft kisses and licks across the valley of your breasts.
she takes her time, making you wait for it. she knew what she was doing to you, and she was going to make you wait. “ellie, you’re going soo slow! you know what i want.” you whine as she leaves kisses and bites all over your exposed skin. “tell me what you want or you’ll get nothing. tell me where you want me.” she whispered. “i want your fingers.” “where?” “you know where.” “tell me or you get nothing.” you hesitate for a moment before saying feebly. “in.. in my pussy..” “that’s a good girl.”
she smiles as she pushes her hands into your slacks. she could feel your wetness. “i got you this worked up, huh? who knew little miss perfect could get this wet over me, a ‘nepo baby’?” she teased with a cocky smile. she slowly slides your slacks and underwear all the way down to your ankles before she applies a delicious amount of pressure to your clit. you gasp, your hand wrapping around her wrist. “oh, you like that do you, huh? you want more? fucking beg for it. cmon.” she applies more pressure to your clit, rubbing small and soft circles as her fingers ghost your sopping entrance. “oh— please ellie, i need more. give me more.” “gonna take more than that, baby.” you whine when she suddenly takes all that pressure away from you.
you let out another whine as you attempt to rut against her hand. her free hand slaps your thigh as she shakes her head in disapproval. “none of that. keep still. you get nothing until you beg like a good girl.” “please, please. ill do anything. just please touch me.” she chuckles at you. she found it cute how you were so desperate to chase that pleasure. “god, you’re so desperate. you need it so.. goddamn bad, don’t you?” she lets out a grunt in the middle of her sentence as she suddenly plunged into your pussy.
as she moves her fingers, she groans at how wet her you were. first she starts with middle finger, then adding her ring finger. her long fingers are hitting that sweet spot in you. she was making you see stars. “listen to yourself. look at ‘er, she’s crying for me.” she coos as she speeds her pace. you moan out. “watch me, baby.” you slowly look down at her fingers plunging in and out of you. sounds of wet squelching fill your ears. you bite your lip and you toss your head back as you let out a moan. you grind yourself down onto her fingers, chasing that wonderful and blissful orgasm.
you felt a pressure building up in your stomach. your eyes were fluttering open and shut. everytime you looked away, she stopped. you made sure to not look away. once that pressure in your stomach felt like it was gonna release, your moans became more broken. “ellie! ellie— oh fuck! ellie! im gonna cum! don’t stop, please don’t stop!” you say between moans as you bring your hand back down to hold her wrist in place.
“oh yeah? gonna cum? let go for me. make a mess on my fingers. cmon. i know you can do it.” she said as she kept her pace at that same one that was making you see stars. she’d been rambling something to you, talking you through it as she watched you cum all over her fingers. she helps you ride out your orgasm, a slight tremble in your legs becoming more apparent.
“what do we say?” “thank you.” she smiled as she pulled her fingers out. the sudden loss makes you whine. she sucks her fingers clean and you watch as her tongue runs across the length of her fingers. “still being a tease, williams?” you ask as you look at her while she does it. “mm.. well no, i dont think so. just savouring how good you taste.” when she was finally satisfied, she drops her hands. “so, you finally ready to stop being so stubborn and take the deal?” “not a chance if it means we get to have sex like this.” you respond with a chuckle. “maybe you need to be fucked again, hm?” she ask with a smile.
needless to say, you’d went another time, and on the third you fucked ellie. eventually you come to some sort of agreement after you’d been laid on her leather sofa, naked and feeling like you were floating. the only question you had now is what the hell had you gotten into. “will this turn into a scandal?” you ask. “.. probably not if we keep this under wraps.” she responds as she puts her head in the crook of your neck, pressing soft kisses to it. “plus, yknow i can just pay the media off right? they won’t say anything. not a peep.” she reassured as she smiled softly.
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mahoushojo-chan · 8 months
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Astarion x Tav || bed sharing
one forever won't be enough
synopsis: it's a habit they picked up from travelling together. every so often, astarion came to tav at night. it turned into something that he needs sometimes, even if he'd really rather not admit it. instead of lying in his old bunk, astarion chooses not to be alone.
an excerpt of "'cause my love (is mine, all mine)"
word count: 1203
pairing: astarion/tav
other tags: f!reader, bed sharing, tooth-rotting fluff, hurt/comfort, non-sexual intimacy, romantic tension, late night conversations, friends to lovers, song inspo: where do i begin by Egg
ao3: here
concept: bed sharing
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At night, Astarion lies in his old bunk. It’s rough, grating, and it creaks every time he shifts, and he’s pretty sure he couldn’t enter trance even if he tried. It’s telling that he would rather lay on a bedroll laid over hard rock than ‘his’ own bed, but the last time he laid in this bed, he was still a slave. Just Cazador’s spawn.
Somehow, it feels even emptier than back then. He doesn't have Petras sleeping in the top bunk, snoring loud enough for him to kick the mattress above. He doesn't have Dalyria in the bunk beside him, hiding a light underneath her sheets while she dove her research into the next topic. There isn't Leon in the corner, whispering sweet comforts to his little girl, Victoria. It’s too quiet all on his own.
Then, even with his new companions, he can't hear Gale patronizing Wyll about this or that kind of magic, he can't hear Karlach playing with Scratch or the Owlbear, and there is no occasional thump of Lae’zel’s late-night training. He had gotten used to all of it as some kind of white noise for the next dawn.
Besides, he thinks, he should get used to his nocturnal schedule again, so staying awake wouldn’t be too bad. It would keep the nightmares away, at least. He had enough of Cazador. He thinks of Tav, who he hopes is sleeping peacefully away.
In the dark, he has to confront the reality that he and Tav are worlds apart. He wonders if she’ll be able to adapt to this schedule.
The door to the Favoured Spawn room opens, the room that Tav had taken, with a quiet creak that only Astarion would hear. Then, the mattress dips, and a hesitant arm wraps around her waist and pulls Tav in as someone nestles in close.
“Mm… still awake, Star?” She mutters, though he’s more surprised to hear that she’s still awake.
“Yes.” Astarion replies in a whisper, because it feels like the night calls for whispers, even when the entire palace is empty.
It’s a habit they picked up from travelling together. Every so often, Astarion came to Tav to sleep. Tav knows that it first started after he first drank from her and she found herself exhausted enough to slip unconscious; but it turned into something that he needs sometimes, even though he’d really rather not admit it. Tav thought it would end after Astarion made it clear that he wasn’t ready for a relationship, and she decided to be friends, rather than lovers. It seemed to be what he needed at the time, but she also knows that this—whatever this is, lying in bed together, in the dark, holding each other and whispering—isn’t really something friends do. Astarion has never had any friends, but even he suspects this is something that is beyond friendship.
But this isn’t sexual, either. He can't think of a single conquest who he had done this with because this felt too vulnerable. This felt like a different reality, reframing what it meant to find comfort in the dark.
With a sigh, Tav turns around to face Astarion. He sees her eyes, heavy-lidded with sleep, and he brushes some hair out of her face. It’s never as awkward as it should be.
“I’m not sure if I’m ready to face them.” Astarion whispers, truthful and defeated, because holding Tav in the darkness brings about a whole different world around him; one where he can tell Tav anything.
“We don’t have to go if you don’t want to, Star.” She says, and it does something to his chest when she whispers his nickname in that tone, with that softness of sleep tinging her voice.
Astarion huffs out a whisper of a laugh. “I do want to. They’re… something like family, after all. They’re the closest thing I have to love.”
“I love you,” she protests, her voice still quiet. He knows this is not what friends do. They are in bed holding each other, now declaring love for each other, in the comfort of darkness. Astarion has never had anyone he had been this intimate with, even in the throes of passion, and he feels that he should think more about what this means.
“Fine, then. They’re the closest thing, other than you.” He drawls affectionately, feeling a tug at his lips even as he rolls his eyes. “But still, they’re not like you. I’m not like you. I can’t be good like you, and I’m afraid they know that. It feels like I’ll have to solve all of this world’s problems to be worthy of forgiveness, and even then, they would be right not to give it to me. They might never forgive me.”
“Then they’d be fools, the lot of them.” She says, and though she still sounds asleep, her eyes look at him with a sincerity he knows. If there’s one consistency about Tav’s behaviour, it’s that she has no patience for fools, and he can’t help but laugh.
A silence passes through them for a moment. “Do you think I’m evil?”
“No.” She says. “Even I’m not nearly as good as you think I am. Out of the two of us, you’re far more special. You make me think anything is possible.”
It’s odd because he can imagine saying the exact same thing to her. He wonders if she was just reading his thoughts and saying the words out loud, and if it was some sort of byproduct left by the mind-reading tadpole. But then again, he can’t at all understand why she would think he was special, and if they did still have the tadpoles, he would wish to see himself through her eyes. He wants to see what she sees in him—this brave, dashing, kind, supportive, heroic man, capable of love and goodness.
He wonders what would happen if he kissed her. 
Not that he was particularly sexually attracted to her, though he admits that objectively, she is attractive. He has a working pair of eyes and a good sense of taste, after all. And honestly, he doesn’t even know if she’s attracted to him—he thinks she might be, because Astarion hadn’t met many people who weren’t, but she also never asked him for anything sexual. Even their first night together, he always wondered if she had truly wanted it, or if he was just taking advantage of their desperate, life-or-death situation. All her intimacy seemed strictly… well, not exactly platonic, but not sexual, either. And it didn’t feel quite romantic, either.
But he wonders what she would do. What might she see? What might she feel?
He compromises by resting the crown of his head on hers, and quietly, he whispers, “Thank you for loving me.”
“Of course I would.” She replies, sounding fond, before closing her eyes. He can tell that sleep is about to take her again as she sighs, “Don’t worry about who you think you’ve got to be. Just be Astarion. It’s good enough.”
Her breaths even out, and he does his best to match her, taking in the air she exhales. He runs fingers through her hair again as she drifts to sleep.
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A Spark To Ignite (Bodyguard!141 x Famous!Reader Preferences) Mild NSFW
Summary: You see each other every day. He works to keep you protected - a perk of your job and his. Occasionally feeling moments of passion and promises of something more between you two are only normal, right?
AN: I've got another bodyguard!AU for the 141 that's more angst based. I'll post that later. I've also got a Price x Escort!Reader in the works plus the end of "Star-crossed in the Crosshairs". Let me know if you have any requests/anything you'd rather see first <3
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Content warning: Minors DNI, 18+ only, allusions to sexual tension/arousal, second person, no use of Y/N
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick
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Another notification of being tagged in the same paparazzi image hit your notification inbox, yet you still opened it and shared a giddy grin at the Instagram feed.
You hadn’t been fussed about going running; it was the company rather than the activity that attracted you. But one thing you were certain about the sport was that no one ever looked flattering whilst doing it.
Yet there he was, your Kyle, looking like a model for Sports Direct. He was snapped midstride, his biceps practically rippling in the glow of the morning sun. There was even a hint of his lean washboard torso with the flap of his t-shirt’s raised coyly.
However, his dimpled smile aimed was the main focus of the headline – mainly because it was aimed at you and your equally elated expression. You blamed the euphoria of exercised endorphins but the way the photo was framed (plus the gaudy text declaring it so) made it seem as if you and Kyle were a true couple in love. It looked incredibly staged. Kyle was an “unknown” though so most budding theorists did not support any claims of it being a publicity stunt. Just two lovers out on a jaunty little run together.
You saved then added the photo to the folder of photos that captured you out with your bodyguard and the headlines that (sadly) misidentified him as your new boyfriend.
“Hey Kyle!”
Blending some fruits. His duties did not include head chef but you had long since allowed him access to your kitchen, even storing some of his favourites around the cupboards and fridge in case he fancied a snack.
Your phone was thrust up into his eyeline, you beaming behind it, “Another Pulitzer.”
Abandoning his smoothie temporarily, Kyle cupped his hand around yours to steady your swaying phone.
“They need to up their standards. Taking you for a jog is hardly a date you deserve,” He commented.
“Ooo, do tell: what do I deserve?”
“Well,” Kyle began pouring the smoothie into a glass, “I could go classic, take you to out on the town to a special place only I know about.”
You leaned onto your    elbows, chin resting in your palms, cheeks creased in a cheeky smile. “Mm-hmm.”
“Wine you, dine you, treat you like a deity,” Kyle said as if he was listing off menial tasks on his day to day whilst collecting another glass for the remaining smoothie. “Take you back to mine if you fancied it, another drink whilst we talk the night away and time passing without us noticing.” Graciously, he slid the other one across the countertop, and your fingers locked against his warm ones wrapped against the cool glass. “Then work up a sweat in a whole other way.”
Blinking away the glaze that had coated your eyes, you restrained the urge to gulp back your desire. A fresh breath in your lungs recovered you quickly and you managed to conjure a teasing quip amidst the fog that had settled over your thoughts.
“Think you could keep up with me?” You said before sipping the smoothie.
The sweetness of it countered Kyle’s smirking reply: “You and I both know I can more than handle you.”
“Better train harder then,” You said, proud of yourself for not stumbling over your playful banter, “I’m a catch, so you better be fast enough.”
“Jog, same time tomorrow?”
“Sure.” And, not missing in the reflection of the oven door how Kyle – for a split second – looked you up and down, you did your best not to collapse or squeal during your return to the sitting room.
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Johnny "Soap" MacTavish
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You leant against the ropes of the new boxing ring with a panting chest and aching legs. Jellied bones dared to let you collapse to the ground but at least, since your self-defence training had begun, you were lasting the full session rather than just after the warm-up.
“I think we’re done for today! Did good, held your own.” Johnny gave you a hearty slap on your back that almost ricocheted you off the ropes. “I’ve still got a few reps to get in.” He leapt out the ring and swigged from his water bottle, tossing you your own.
“Show-off!” You called out after him, though all in good fun, as you caught your bottle and your breath.
Technically, since you didn’t have anything else to do, you could get a head-start on getting cleaned up. You were in the privacy of your own gym, added at your request so that Johnny could train you better and you could do so without being ogled or papped.
Quite hypocritical it was then, that you lingered in the ring to watch Johnny stack up his weights on either side of the bar (the ones you purchased as part of his perks of working for you).
Your day-job came in handy with pretending to do some cooldown stretches, sipping from and pouring your water bottle over yourself. Well, you were actually doing those things but acting as if they were the only things that occupied your thoughts was the main role you were playing. From the corner of your eye, you observed Johnny squatted with a stack of weights lining each shoulder. God, those arms were practically popping, his thighs bulging with the effort of remaining planted on the floor and folding up and down beneath the hefty set. Mesmerising, you forgot to keep up your pretence by the second load of reps.
It left your lips before you could reconsider for the tenth time: “Bet you couldn’t lift me.”
Soap paused in a deep squat and looked up through his lashes at you. Meeting his steely blue gaze was easier than anticipated but maintaining it as he righted himself and rested the weights back on the rack with a restrained grunt was the difficult part.
At first, you thought maybe his silence was his answer. Then Johnny knelt down and assumed the plank position.
“Get on,” He said, loud and clear.
You still doubted him, “Seriously?”
“You made the bet. Now lie in it.”
As elegantly as possible, you dismounted the ring before making your way over to his side. He showed no signs of tiredness during your journey, nor did he when you balanced yourself across his broad back.
“Ok, ready,” You said, your voice close to wobbling.
And so it began. Up and down, you could feel how his body sustained you through both your and his workout gear. His back muscles rippled beneath you and his elbows kissed yours each time he lowered you both to the floor. Out of nowhere, you began giggling and you couldn’t figure out how to put a stop to it. Giddiness flooded your entire system until you were beyond drunk.
Suddenly, your world tilted and you rolled off onto the mat but Johnny refused you any respite, flipping you over onto your back again, like a pancake.
“I win,” He panted, “What’s my prize?”
Still giggling, you felt your cheeks burning at the sight of him hovering over you, his skin glowing, his chest panting. His unrelenting stare had you locked beneath him, barred between his trunk-like arms. If this was your prison, you’d commit any offence to stay in there. God you were so close you could kiss him-
Nope.
“You finish your workout early so you can have a nice hot shower sooner?” You said, covering your mouth to cough and clear your airways of whatever shit you breathed in to make you even consider making out with your bodyguard. You must’ve looked so daft; you blamed the endorphins. Then you blamed Johnny completely as he started to laugh down at you, sending your thighs quaking as he crawled off you and ordered you to get cleaned up – that he’d be in shortly after as a hint to not use all the hot water. As you drifted back to the bathroom, you tried not to think about him in the shower or how you wanted to offer to scrub him down.
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Simon "Ghost" Riley
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“Say the word and I’ll have him removed.”
For a man so stoic and intimidating, Simon sure made you smile a lot. You needed it after that… “interesting” conversation with one of the party’s guests – someone who you knew to be a detractor behind your back.
“It’s fine, really,” You insisted with a winning smile.
Casting a glance over your shoulder where your shadow dutifully remained was a reward you would never be exhausted of. Simon looked so good in his tux. Plus he’d humoured you and worn the silk black mask rather than his usual. You were brimming with privilege at seeing his hair styled beyond the flattened fuzz it would take on after being beneath the balaclava for twenty hours at a time. Even more so, you got to see his tattoos pairing nicely with them like a good bottle of wine.
You could hear the smirk hiding beneath his mask. His veined hands clasped firmly in front of him as he leant close, just his mask separating his lips and your ear.
“We could make a break for it. Ditch these twats. Get a drive-thru.”
He knew you never would agree to it; this gala meant a lot to you. Such a tempting offer though, in such a tempting voice too. His rough tone did nothing but delight you when you heard it. Turning to look at him, you took note of the two mere inches between your face and his.
He continued, “You’ve shown your face long enough.”
“Getting jealous of them stealing my attention?” You asked provocatively.
Simon let out a low laugh, shaking his head fondly with just a hint of patronising, “That’s funny, sweetheart.”
“Well, I’m sure there are plenty of people who are dying to still talk to me.” You gestured with the glass he’d gotten (and checked for any malicious interference) for you around at the room, those who would never have the privilege of being a part of your and Simon’s bubble.
“Just as long as you and everyone else knows that I’m the one who takes you home.”
The implications of that statement swelled in your chest, nestling into your heart like a cat in a warm patch of sunlight. Intently, he looked at your face for your reaction. That was the thing with Simon: always observing, recording every flicker, every possibility in that incredible mind of his. You were certain he could see into your soul with those all-seeing eyes. He kept you safe, kept you on your toes, kept you happy.
But the bubble burst before you could hit back and you abruptly checked yourself back into work mode. The person who’d spoken loud enough to bring you back down to Earth didn’t seem to notice your slip up. You, however, were more than acutely aware of Simon’s lingering presence at your side. So close the hairs on your arm extended on goosebumps, coaxing and begging to touch him.
As you were once again left alone, you found yourself stifled by your need to be nearer to Simon and quickly decided the alcohol was to blame. “I need the bathroom.”
“This way.” His hand grazing the small of your back had an impact tripled, but you managed to submit it to travelling through your nose, rather than gasping out your mouth. But you were certain that Simon had caught you. He never missed a thing.
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John "Bravo Six" Price
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After shaking hands again with the presenter and declaring a few thanks to the crew, you were guided straight to the dressing room by Price. You took off your own microphone and handed it to him, which he immediately passed to a nervous stagehand. Your name in Arial font on an A4 sheet of paper greeted you from the dressing room door.
Sometimes you needed that extra time to decompress and he knew before you did more often than not. Today was not one of those days, though you did request to stop and pick up the bouquet that had been there to welcome you in when you first arrived. It was so large, your favourites blooming in the dew-dropped cellophane, that you had trouble waving to the folks who’d stuck around at the barrier, Price’s arms keeping you walking and guiding you towards the car.
For your safety, you had to go in the back where the tinted windows offered you a hint of privacy. It was a thorn in your side though. You longed to sit beside Price as he fought playfully with you over the music, grumbled with the directions his phone offered, collected your drive-in order. Then maybe your daydream of being his partner could have a little more to stand on.
A true gentleman as well as your protector, Price walked you up to the house and let you set up your evening meal while he made final checks to secure your house again. Normality for you was hearing him walk around and jiggle door handles and returning only when he was certain none had been tampered with and your cameras were fully functioning.
“Anything else you need from me before I leave for the night?” He asked, standing at ease in front of you.
You gestured to the bouquet you were cradling like a baby, “Thank you for the flowers.”
His brows furrowed for a split second then a sheepish smile smoothed out the lines in his forehead, highlighting his eyes instead.
“You caught me,” He said quietly, sparing a look at the flowers he asked the host to order for you, then back at you.
Squinting mischievously, you asked, “Were you really hiding it?”
“I suppose not.” He let his smile soften and dull. Back to business. Yet you could’ve sworn he glanced at your mouth before he asked, “Anything else you need?”
Your heart yearned to beg him to stay and tell you what else he did behind the scenes without a hint of expecting more, so that you could show him how much you cared in an appropriately equal response. His favourite whiskey perhaps for when he was off duty, or one day doing something together that he wanted to do so it wasn’t just looking after you. It was more than that, the job. He’d told you so. But you didn’t want to just be a job to him.
Quietly, you maintained your decorum, “No, thank you.”
John nodded his head, “Of course.”
It was as he was about to cross the threshold when you started to ask, “Do you-”
Not even three words made it out before Price whipped around, already returning to where he’d stood before. You could feel your lungs struggling under the strain of maintaining steady breathing at the gesture, suspending all the blood in your face (and maybe your groin). It stopped your question in its path, as if it was waiting until Price was listening attentively (he always was for you).
“Yes?” He prompted, his voice soft as if to coax you out of your hideout.
Fidgeting with the bouquet still, you cleared your throat and began again, “Do you want to join me, for dinner?”
Price’s hands, now at his sides, tapped on his thighs thrice before he said, “Two conditions.”
“Name them.”
Perhaps you said that a little too quickly because it made him laugh, which only made things worse for you. You had a real weakness for that laugh.
“You teach me whatever you’re planning on making, and you let me help you make it.”
Your heart accelerated and you dismissed his with a smile and a slight self-deprecating remark to soften the weight of this decision you were both making: “It’s nothing special.”
“Those are my terms,” Price insisted. His eyes creased as a smile grew on his face, more beautiful than the flowers forgotten the second you placed them into the vase. But at least it gave you to excuse to look away and gather your expression into something more collected as you ordered him to go and wash his hands.
302 notes · View notes
cosmicstarlatte · 1 year
Text
Trip to Waffle House (Obey Me!)
━━━━━━━━━━ ✦ ━━━━━━━━━━ You take the brothers to Waffle House for some breakfast. You pull up and there's already gunshots ringing through the lot. "It's ok, c'mon c'mon...ignore the cook punching that customer."
»Characters: Demon bros + Dateables »Tags: Shitpost/Humor, Bulleted Style fic, Gender Neutral, Regret
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Lucifer:
Refuses to order anything
"This is not a dining establishment."
Thinks this makes the Devildom look like the Celestial Realm
He now understands why you're built strong
"Where's the manager? He's dead?"
ENOUGH
Got fed up and stopped the chaos
For once there was a little bit of peace in a waffle house if only for a few minutes
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Mammon:
"Aw fuck yeah cheap food!"
Is unbothered by the chaos, ignores it.
Until he gets hit with food
Starts a brawl with the other patrons
Ended up going viral online
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Levi:
"In Ruri we trust" He prays
Was anxious the entire time
Made sure to sit between Lucifer and Beel for safety
Thought the food was good but
Please don't ever make him go there again
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Satan:
Found it entertaining
"Waffle House Weather Index? Fascinating!"
"Is that a cat giving birth in the corner?"
Thought food was okay
Still a fan though and would like to come back again with you
Also loves that Lucifer hates it
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Asmo:
Took some convincing to get him to step foot inside but the gunshots helped
Didn't bother to eat either
He swears he saw something move on Mammon's plate
"This is so not going on Devilgram."
Never again
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Beel:
"Mm..mmph!!!"
Was excited to try something new
Dinner and a show!
Took over for the cook so they could go on break
No complaints, he would come back again
Enjoyed it the most out of everyone
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Belphie:
"This...this is great."
Enjoyed the chaos, found it hilarious
Could comfortably nap to everyone's screaming, it was comforting
Lucifer hates it and Beel loves it so what's not to love?
Food was ok
Would come back again
━━━━━━━━━━ ✦ ━━━━━━━━━━
You guys went on a trip to the human world and Dia wanted to stop somewhere for breakfast. He liked the name Waffle House and decided to stop there. You tried to dissuade him but he refused. Even pulling up and hearing gunshots he wasn't deterred. Barbatos couldn't stop him.
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Barbatos:
Slammed a glock on the table as soon as they sat
Politely declined to eat
Found the place interesting by how unregulated it was but he wouldn't come back again
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Diavolo:
Was a little disappointed it actually wasn't made to look like a house of waffles
Fascinated by the vibe though
"Do you fight to the death here?"
"I see."
Orders waffles of course
Thinks they're just okay
Yeah he doesn't want to come back again
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Simeon:
Sweats
Says a prayer in the car
Blacks out once inside
Would rather turn into a demon than step foot in there again
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Luke:
Gets tossed around
Poor Simeon blacked out and couldn't help
"Is that blood on the wall!?"
"Why is the soda salty?"
Needed therapy for a while
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Solomon:
"Aw yiss mf waffle house"
unbothered king
Thinks its the best place in the world
It's a lawless land after all
Would take someone on a date there
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⬦You might also like: Coconut︱Devil-Mart⭐︱Mexican Restaurant︱You ARE The Father
2K notes · View notes
starlightkun · 6 months
Text
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❧ word count: 7.6k ❧ warnings: cursing, mm and that’s really it! i mean like they fight and stuff but just read the genre tags lmao ❧ genre: exes to lovers, angst with a happy ending (look at what blog ur on rn), christmas-themed (if the title wasn’t apparent enough), getting snowed in trope, cuddling to share warmth trope, just a fun, cheesy, time ❧ extra info: i wrote this in a 24-ish hour fever. it’s moderately proof-read. beware. ❧ author’s note: a starlightkun fic under 10k! it’s a christmas miracle!
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“I just said, it’s not that simple!” You yelled, your hands curling into fists at your side. Kun let out a huff, walking away from his armchair to pace in front of the Christmas tree across the room from you. You weren’t going to let him off that easily, though. “Why did you stop loving me?”
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“Any big holiday plans, Y/N?” Your boss asked as you handed her some documents to sign.
“Oh, staying in town,” you answered nonchalantly. “What about you, ma’am?”
She told you about her own Christmas and New Year plans with her wife, kids, and parents with a bright smile on her face as she flipped through the pages. After giving you the signatures you needed, she handed the papers back to you.
“Can you run those over to Dr. Oh’s office for me? The undergrads all went back home for break.”
“Sure, no problem.”
“After that, you can head out for the day. My Christmas present to you.”
“Oh, thank you, ma’am.”
“That, and also this.” She handed you a red envelope before standing up from her desk and closing her laptop. “Merry Christmas, and Happy New Year, Y/N.”
“Thank you, you too,” you flashed her a genuine smile. “Happy Holidays to your family as well. See you in a week.”
“See you.”
Tucking the envelope into your bag, you quickly tidied up your workstation before heading out of the research lab to do your final task. You were a research fellow at a rather prestigious university, and while running papers would typically be asked of the interns and undergraduate students who helped out in the lab, as your boss—the head of the lab—had already pointed out, classes let out for their Winter Break two weeks ago, so you were fresh out of fresh meat.
You pulled your scarf tight around your nose and lower half of your face as you stepped out into the chilly winter air. Dr. Oh was the Dean of Graduate Studies at the university, and you’d been to his office a couple of times before, so your feet followed a familiar path as you hurried through the cold and into the building. The air was almost oppressively hot inside, and you tore off your scarf as you ran up the stairs.
There was light pouring out from Dr. Oh’s office at the end of the hall, the only one on. You poked your head in through the open door, greeted by the sight of a seemingly empty office. Must have stepped out.
Just as you had dropped the papers into his inbox on his desk, you heard footsteps at the doorway and whipped around to greet the older man, breathless smile already on your face.
Except it wasn’t Dr. Oh standing there. Your greeting died in your throat as you stared at the newcomer with blatant shock.
“Oh, Y/N,” Qian Kun rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. His hair was a bit longer than before, a shaggy length that covered most of his ears and neck, and he’d forgone his contacts in favor of a pair of silver wire-rimmed glasses, but there was nothing that time could do to conceal his identity from you. The way your heart dropped to your stomach as soon as he said your name was undeniable. “What are you doing here?”
“What are you doing here?” You sputtered back harshly. His PhD program was at a completely different university in the area and should have ended in the spring. What business did he have here of all places?
“I started assisting Dr. Oh last month. Uhm, sorry, I sort of thought you graduated already, or I wouldn’t have interviewed for the job.”
“I did graduate.” You crossed your arms over your chest. “Two years ago. I’m a research fellow now.”
“Of course. Well, congrats.”
You let out a small noise of acknowledgement that could’ve also been interpreted as a cynical chuckle.
“So, did you need to see Dr. Oh? He’s left the office for the year, I’m just finishing up a couple things here.”
“Oh, no,” you shook your head, vaguely gesturing to the inbox over your shoulder. “My research head asked me to drop something off.”
Kun nodded. “Right. I’ll make sure he looks it over first thing when he gets back.”
“Thank you.” There was a pause of tense silence, and you looked around the office uncomfortably. “So, can I go, or…?”
“Yeah, of course, sorry.” He moved out of the doorway, stepping aside to clear the exit for you. “It uhm, it was nice to see you, Y/N.”
“Yeah, sure.”
You’d just brushed past him when he called your name out again. Against your better judgment, you stopped just short of leaving the office and turned to look at him.
“What, Kun?”
“What uh, what are you doing for the holidays? Are you going back home? Or, celebrating here with… someone?”
You weren’t sure what compelled you to answer other than basic social niceties. “No. Airline tickets were crazy, couldn’t find anything that would get me back in the lab in time that wasn’t ridiculously expensive. All my friends are traveling, so I’ll be eating ramen by myself on the couch, presumably.”
You had answered his half-asked question. No, you didn’t have a significant other to spend the holiday with. Just your family back home that you couldn’t afford to go see, and friends who had all left town.
“Oh…” He looked down at his feet.
“What about you?” You asked pettily, fully expecting him to be visiting a significant other’s family in town, flying home to see his family, something much merrier than the picture you had just painted.
“Same for me,” he admitted quietly. “Plane tickets back home were so expensive… and I just left my old job and haven’t really made new friends here yet. At least not ones that are on the level of them inviting me to their family Christmas.”
While you wanted to be bitterly vindicated by Kun making himself as alone on Christmas as he had made you, it somehow just weighed twice as heavy on your heart. All that came out of this was two lonely people, far away from home.
“Do you… maybe want to come over? For Christmas?” Kun’s hesitant proposition knocked the wind out of you.
“Why?”
“Well, neither of us have any other plans. And, I don’t know, I thought it might be nice… to be with someone you know. Better than being alone on Christmas eating instant ramen, maybe?”
You took a couple deep breaths, gnawing on your bottom lip as you thought over his offer. “Fine. Christmas dinner. No presents.”
He grabbed a pen and pad of sticky notes off the desk, scribbling something down. “Here’s… my address. Let’s say six?”
You plucked the yellow square from his fingers delicately. “Six.”
“See you then.”
You reached into your bag to affix the sticky note to the red envelope from your research head, then pulled your scarf back out. “See you then, Kun.”
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For the next three days, that sticky note sat on your coffee table and stared at you. Even as you went about your day trying not to think about it, busying yourself with jigsaw puzzles, books, and whatever cheesy Christmas movie was on at the time. That yellow square was stuck to your forebrain, plaguing your every waking moment.
Every night you were kept up with memories. You hadn’t seen Kun in three years, since you’d picked up the last of your possessions from your old apartment. The apartment the two of you had lived in together. A brief flash of picking up your things, cut by the first time you’d opened the door to your new place together, hand-in-hand, absolutely bursting with excitement and hope for the future.
As you started getting ready to go over to Kun’s place, your body moved by itself, despite the sinking pit in your stomach threatening to swallow you whole.
Rooting through your spare closet, you finally got a small blue box out of the back. You opened it up, a bittersweet sigh leaving your mouth. Nestled in among some tissue and spare ornament hooks was a three-dimensional figure of a sea turtle, covered in glitter and with a navy blue loop of string for hanging coming from its back, but otherwise pretty realistic. You placed it in your bag, carefully cushioned by a scarf.
Before you left, you finally opened your card from your boss. She had written you a very nice note about how much she appreciated your work at the lab, and wishing you all the best in your future endeavors. There was also a gift card loaded up with a considerable amount of money, which you pocketed for later.
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Kun’s place wasn’t terribly far from yours, about a fifteen-minute walk, but the heavy snow that was starting to fall slowed you down a bit more. You’d probably have to get a taxi on your way back at this rate. Hopefully your awkward, polite Christmas dinner would be very short.
Knocking on the evergreen-painted door, which sported an elegantly beautiful wreath, you checked the time on your phone. So you were a few minutes late. Oh well.
Kun opened the door with a bright smile, dressed nicely but casual enough in a dark brown knitted sweater, loose-fitting dark pants, and socks with cartoon reindeer on them. “Hey, you made it. Come on in.”
“Thanks.” You stepped into the warmth of the apartment, and he closed the door behind you.
“When I saw how hard it was snowing out there, I started getting worried.” He helped you out of your thick overcoat, hanging it up on a hook by the front door for you. “I hope you didn’t walk.”
“I did. It wasn’t too bad.” You peeled off your gloves, moving to put them in your purse at the same time that you grabbed something from the bag.
“Did you see they’re forecasting 30 to 90 cm of snow by tomorrow morning? We’ll have to get you a cab home tonight before it gets too bad.” He was still talking as he started leading the way from the narrow hallway entry into the rest of the apartment.
His living room was cozy, especially with the crackling fireplace, delicious smells emanating from the kitchen, and festive decorations put up everywhere. One corner was taken up by a modest-sized Christmas tree, covered in colorful lights and an eclectic mix of ornaments.
“Is that a real tree?” You asked curiously.
“Yeah,” he admitted almost sheepishly. “Your uh—your Christmas tree purism rubbed off on me... Doesn’t feel like Christmas unless I’m sweeping up pine needles.”
You chuckled lightly at that, remembering that your first fight as a couple was around your first Christmas together, specifically about whether to get a plastic tree or a real one for his apartment, which you were practically living in at that point. Your family had always gotten real ones when you were growing up, and you could never get behind the fake ones. Kun, on the other hand, didn’t really care either way, but got frustrated when he couldn’t convince you on the cost-saving aspect of being able to reuse your tree every year. The spat fizzled out the very same day, and you ended up having a very cute date when you went to go pick out your first (real) tree together.
“I know I said no gifts, but I don’t think this really counts, since I’m just giving you something back that was yours in the first place.” You brought the sea turtle ornament out, holding it out to him by the loop of string. “It ended up in my stuff and I couldn’t... see you again. Sorry for holding onto it for so long.”
Kun accepted the glittery marine creature in his hand, a fond smile coming to his features. “I thought I’d lost it. Thank you for not uh, throwing it out or something.”
“I paid good money for that, I wasn’t going to be the one to put it in the trash,” you joked half-heartedly, watching as he turned to hang it up on the tree. In the branches among his other ornaments, it looked at home.
Your first date had been to the aquarium, and your first kiss that same day by the sea turtle exhibit, which was why you had picked that specific ornament to give him for your second Christmas together. It was actually from the very same aquarium’s gift shop— meaning that it was wildly overpriced, but cute nevertheless.
“You have a working fireplace, too?” You gestured to the very real fire nearby.
“I do!” He beamed proudly, going to readjust some of the logs, the flames growing to a steadier burn. “I got really lucky with this place.”
“Yeah, it’s nice,” you nodded in agreement.
A couple of beats of silence passed, then Kun gestured towards the kitchen. “Dinner’s almost ready.”
You followed him into the kitchen, where there was a small square table with four chairs around it, and two places already set across from each other. A few full dishes were already on the table as well, and you wondered how much more food he could be making, as it looked like there was already enough to feed a family of eight at least.
“Smells good,” you commented.
Kun gave you another small smile, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose as he leaned against the closed oven. “Thanks. I uh—got excited to cook for someone else again, and sort of went overboard. So you’re welcome to take a bunch of leftovers, too.”
“Cool, thanks.” No fucking way would you be doing that. Taking leftovers home in one of his containers, that you would then have to wash and bring back to him? Absolutely not.
The beeping of a timer went off then, and he spun around to turn off the numbers flashing at him from the stovetop. He opened the oven, putting on oven mitts before taking out the last dish.
After putting it down at the table, he announced, “Alright, dinner’s served!”
You took a seat, watching as Kun continued to bustle around the kitchen. Putting the oven mitts away, turning the oven off, grabbing a wine bottle, corkscrew, and two wine glasses from the cabinets.
“Oh, I don’t drink anymore,” you informed him casually.
“Oh, sorry.” As he went to go put everything away again, you interrupted him.
“You can drink around me, it’s not... anything like that. I’ll be fine. Just sort of lost the taste for it.”
Kun poured a glass for himself over at the counter before putting the bottle away. “So, what can I get you? I have some sparkling water, sodas, eggnog...”
“Just regular water is fine.”
He rushed to do that, and as he set your glass down in front of you, you noted, “You remembered how much ice...”
“You did give me a ten-minute lecture on the proper ratio of ice to water, if you’ll recall.” He took his seat across from you.
“Alright, lecture is doing a lot of heavy lifting there. I was simply explaining myself thoroughly so as to not be misunderstood.”
“I understood you crystal clear afterwards,” Kun chuckled, lifting his glass of red wine. “Merry Christmas, Y/N. Thank you for agreeing to do this kind of weird thing I asked you.”
“Merry Christmas, Kun,” you clinked your glass to his in a toast. “That’s what I do, remember?”
Dinner continued with civil, even sometimes amicable conversation. Mostly catching up on what had happened in both your lives in the past three years, how your families were, your jobs, fairly neutral topics.
Kun had just finished his doctorate program in the spring, and had taken the position with Dr. Oh at your university while he looked for something more aligned with his studies. You wanted to do some research before possibly going back to pursue a doctorate in your own field.
Kun’s family was doing well, his baby brother Chenle was graduating high school in the spring, his middle brother Dejun was now in his fourth year of undergrad at your own alma mater back home, and his parents were going to be celebrating their 30th anniversary next year on a cruise— which they were both very excited about, as it would be their first one.
You had to belatedly break the news to him that your grandmother passed two years ago— she had always loved Kun and you never did have the heart to tell her that the two of you broke up when she would ask where he was on your visits, since her dementia just meant that you would’ve had to re-explain it to her again the next time you saw her. You elected not to mention any of that to Kun in the moment. Other than her passing, your family was alright. Your parents had just gotten a new old cat from the shelter a few months ago, your older sister welcomed her second child, a baby girl, and you happily showed off pictures of your niece, and now five-year-old nephew to Kun.
“Wow... I can’t believe Little Bear is so big,” he gushed at the photo of your nephew on your shoulders.
“Oh, he’s an absolute menace now,” you laughed and shook your head. “That little docile baby you knew who would just fall asleep in anybody’s arms is nowhere to be found.”
“And his sister?”
“Oh, she’s going to be even worse than her brother, I just know it.” You swiped to another photo of the baby, fond grin on your lips.
Kun’s eyes lingered on you for a moment, then he cleared his throat and leaned back in his chair. “Are you finished?”
“Oh, yeah,” you looked down at your empty plate, having completely forgotten about it in the moment. “It was all really delicious, thanks, Kun.”
“Better than the instant ramen you had planned?”
“By far. You’re a great cook, as always.”
He stood up to grab your plates. “I’m glad you liked it.”
Realizing that this was the end of dinner, of your commitment for the night, you felt simultaneously disappointed and relieved. On one hand, it was kind of nice seeing Kun again and being able to catch up—you especially loved hearing about how his little brothers were doing, you had adored doting on them while you were dating, since you were the youngest sibling yourself. But on the other hand, it was all a façade. Neither of you were addressing the elephant in the room, and it was getting exhausting trying to keep up the friendly chatter and not veer into anything serious, to only put your best foot forward in representing yourself and your life.
“Thank you for inviting me, I don’t think I said that before,” you said indicatively, standing from your seat. “You were right, it was nice being with someone you know, someone who’s from the same place as you, on Christmas.”
Kun gave a half-smile, taking his phone from the table. “We should order you that taxi, huh?”
“Right.”
As you started putting all your layers back on in the hallway, you could hear Kun’s end of the phone call with the cab company.
“What do you mean you’re not dispatching? I know it’s Christmas but— How much?! Seriously?!”
You poked your head out to look at him with concern, but he wasn’t facing you. Instead, he was at the window of the living room, throwing the curtains aside to look out.
“Alright, well, you can’t help that, no, sir. Thank you. Yep, Merry Christmas.”
After he’d hung up without giving his address, you knew something was wrong.
“What’s going on?” You asked cautiously, still slowly pulling on your gloves one finger at a time.
He looked at you over his shoulder, now leaning one forearm against the window. He jerked his head for you to come over. “Come see for yourself.”
You walked over hesitantly, and saw nothing but white. “Oh my God.”
“Forecasts were off a bit. Apparently there’s already been 100cm of snow, and they’re projecting at least another 50 before tomorrow.”
“Holy fucking shit.” Your jaw dropped. “So we’re...”
“Snowed in. Yeah,” he confirmed bluntly. “Guy at the taxi company says they’re not expecting the roads to start being cleared until New Year’s, and they’ll start with businesses and shopping districts first.”
You continued staring at the snow piling up against the window in shock, and Kun took a step back.
“So, you want some eggnog?”
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After you had once more removed your coats, scarf, gloves, and boots, you sat down on Kun’s couch, fervently texting all your family. They had apparently seen on the news about the crazy snowstorm hitting your area, and were checking in on you. You reassured them that you were just fine, and were staying at a friend’s place until the storm blew over and the roads cleared. You deigned not to tell them who exactly this ‘friend’ was. You hadn’t told anybody who knew Kun that you were going to his place today, actually. While your family and friends had been supportive of you during the breakup, you could tell how disappointed they were that you two hadn’t worked out—and a couple outright said so. You knew it was in the ‘we’ve never seen you so happy’ sort of way, but that didn’t make it feel any better at the time.
A mug dipped into the top of your vision, accompanied by Kun’s voice. “Here.”
“Oh, thanks,” you flashed him a smile as you accepted it, and set your phone down on his coffee table. “Just letting the brigade back home know I’m not dead under a hundred meters of snow.”
He sat down in the armchair caddy corner to the end of the couch you were at. “My family has been blowing up my phone, too. For some reason my parents aren’t very amused about Chenle and Dejun daring me to go build the world’s largest snowman right now.”
“Probably have enough snow for it,” you mused. “What is the record for the biggest snowman, do you think?”
“Got to be at least ten meters, right?”
“Oh, definitely way more than that.”
“Really? You think?”
“For sure,” you snorted, picking your phone back up and quickly searching online. “It looks like the official Guinness World Record is 37.21 meters, in Bethel, Maine. But Donnersbachwald, Austria made a snowman that was reportedly 38.04 meters, named Riesi.”
Kun whistled lowly. “Well goddamn.”
“And look!” You turned your phone to show Kun the photo of Riesi. “It’s so cute!”
“Is that a top hat?”
“I think?”
As you looked at the picture one more time and put your phone to the side, you reclined back in your seat, lifting your mug up to your lips to take your first sip of the eggnog. The fire continued crackling in the background, and you hummed a Christmas carol to yourself. So you couldn’t make your great escape exactly how you’d planned. But you and Kun had tolerated each other pretty well so far, you could probably make it out of here in a few days relatively unscathed.
“Hey, uhm, what did you mean earlier?” Kun quietly shattered all of your hopes and dreams for peace with just one vague question.
“Huh? When?”
“When I thanked you for going along with my weird idea to get together for Christmas despite… everything. And you said: ‘It’s what I do, remember?’ What did you mean by that?”
“Oh… just… you know— You’d have some weird, or crazy, or slightly irresponsible, or fun idea and I always said yes,” you kept your tone conversational and nostalgic. “Blowing your whole paycheck on a LEGO set that you’d always wanted but your parents would never buy you as a kid, skipping classes in undergrad to laze about your apartment, taking the long way back to your car after Sicheng’s film festival even though it was pouring rain because you remembered I had said on our first date that I’d always wanted to dance in the rain, submitting my paper to the undergraduate research panel…”
“Moving out here,” he filled in for you flatly.
You pressed your lips together in a thin line before nodding. “Moving here…”
“Is that really how you feel? That I was always dragging you around places, making you do stuff that you didn’t want to do?”
“Kun, we’re going to be stuck in here together for who knows how long, can we not do this?”
He threw his hands up in exasperation. “I mean, I knew you were bitter about coming here, but apparently I was holding you hostage the entire four years before that too and had no idea.”
“That is not what I said,” you said through gritted teeth, narrowing your eyes.
“What else am I supposed to think about what you said?”
“You don’t!” You snapped. “You don’t think about it, you don’t read into it, they’re just words! Not everything has a deeper meaning, sometimes people just say stuff, you know.”
“Well you never actually say what you mean, so I have to try to read between the lines.”
“Or maybe I’m saying plenty, and you’re too far up your own ass trying to decipher me like some cosmic puzzle instead of listening to the actual words I’m saying!”
“So I don’t have to ask if you’re still bitter about it, then,” he scoffed.
The final shred of decency and civility left in you burned up right then, and you got to your feet as you exploded, “You convinced me to leave my family, my friends, my home, everything and everyone I knew, to come here for your dreams! And then you told me you didn’t love me anymore! Of course I’m fucking bitter!”
Kun got to his feet too, staring you down intensely. “Then why didn’t you go back home? After you graduated, you stuck around. Why?”
“I was offered the position at the lab—”
“There’s other labs.”
“The studies we’re doing—”
“There’s other studies.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“If you hated it here so much and hated me for dragging you here, why didn’t you take the first chance you had to leave?”
“I just said, it’s not that simple!” You yelled, your hands curling into fists at your side. Kun let out a huff, walking away from his armchair to pace in front of the Christmas tree across the room from you. You weren’t going to let him off that easily, though. “Why did you stop loving me?”
His features turned apologetic for a moment. “Y/N—”
“You knew how much I loved you, that I’d follow you anywhere. I chose to study here even though it was my second choice because your top pick had already accepted you. I thought we were planning our life together, but then you dropped me like it was nothing. So why? Why did you stop loving me?”
“It’s not that simple.”
“Just answer the question, Kun,” you demanded. “Why? You had to have an inkling before you took me from everyone I loved—”
“I didn’t take you anywhere, you’re not some helpless waif! We were grown-ups and we made grown-up decisions!” He raised his voice again, face red with anger and veins bulging in his neck and forehead. “If I remember correctly, I suggested being long-distance while we did our graduate studies.”
“I loved you, Kun! I loved you, and I wanted to see you thriving and to support you from right next to you, not be in the sidelines of your life.”
“I never stopped loving you.”
“What?”
“The answer to your question is that I never stopped loving you, actually. I just told you I did.”
You stared at him, dumbfounded, slack-jawed, before you were filled with even more white-hot rage than ever, “What the fuck is wrong with you?!”
“Y/N, we were fighting every other day, we never saw each other because we were working so much and when we did we just fought—Like this!” He gestured between the two of you zealously as he defended himself. “—about the stupidest stuff. I could see how much you hated being here, and I knew you resented me for bringing you here, but you wouldn’t ever talk to me about it. I thought that if I was the only thing keeping you here, then I needed to stop being so selfish and let you go back home where you would actually be happy again.”
“And you didn’t think to consult me on any of that?”
His jaw clenched as he took a deep inhale through his nose before answering, voice absolutely incensed, “I couldn’t get you to talk about it! Whenever I tried to ask you how you were doing settling in here, how you liked your program, anything, you just gave me these- these hollow smiles and placated me with the same ‘oh, it’s great, I really like it’ over and over again! It was like being in love with a brick wall!”
“Because I didn’t want youto blame yourself! Because it wasn’t your fault!” Your chest heaved as you caught your breath from so much shouting. The white-hot anger was gone, leaving only a cold sorrow inside you as you were confronted with your own admission. You hugged yourself as you followed it up with a much quieter, “It wasn’t your fault, Kun… It’s just been so much easier to blame you this whole time.”
“Y/N…” Kun sighed, running a hand through his hair as his tone changed from anger to remorse, his face softening. “I should’ve made sure our focus was on your career as much as it was on mine. I let my ambitions become the priority for both of us instead of seriously considering yours as well. I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry for blaming you the whole time. You’re right, I was a grown-up, and I made a grown-up decision.” You shook your head at yourself, staring into the dynamic flames of the fireplace. “It was so much easier to hate you for dragging me here than to hate myself for following you here.”
“I’m sorry for lying, too. When I told you I stopped loving you. I really thought that would get you to leave, to go back home where you could be happy again. But it was just needlessly cruel. I’m so, so sorry.” His voice was shaking, and when you looked back at him again, you could see that the whites of his eyes were pink.
“I didn’t go back home because it wouldn’t have meant anything to go back without you,” you finally answered his question, swallowing the lump in your throat. “When we first moved here, and I’d imagine going back home, I would always imagine us going back together. Because it wouldn’t have been home without you, for me. That’s why I stayed. Not because you were here—I really never wanted to see you again. But because you—the you that I wanted, that still loved me—weren’t there.”
“I’m sorry…” He blinked and the first of his tears slipped slowly down his cheek. “I know I said that a lot the first time we did this but… I wasn’t apologizing for the right thing.”
The corners of your lips twitched with a bittersweet, cynical smile. “You didn’t know any of this stuff the first go around.”
“I did know that you loved me. And I really thought that if you could just get over that one little thing then you could be happy again. I underestimated you and what it meant for you to love me.”
“It wasn’t that simple…” You repeated feebly. “You made me happy too, Kun. I should’ve told you that, all of this, everything, instead of pushing it down and letting myself resent you just because that’s what seemed easier at the time. That wasn’t fair to you.”
“None of this was fair on either of us.”
“But saving our relationship wasn’t your sole responsibility, Kun. We were partners, it was on both of us, and I didn’t try.”
“It was everybody’s fault and nobody’s fault,” Kun declared with another sigh, dropping his body back down in the armchair.
“Yeah…” You sat down in the corner of the couch. “It was…”
The apartment was silent as you took another sip of your eggnog, and Kun wiped his damp cheeks.
“So… now what?” You prompted as you met his gaze.
“You still like jigsaw puzzles?”
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Kun and you worked together on a puzzle on the floor of his living room. Once put together, it would show a full Winter Wonderland scene. He had put on Christmas music in the background, and your assembly was interspersed with sing-alongs, easygoing conversation, and long, comfortable stretches of silence.
When the puzzle was about halfway done, you let out a big yawn, briefly checking the time on your phone. “Oh, jeez, it’s after midnight already.”
“I think that’s plenty for tonight,” Kun declared, slowly getting to his feet. “We can finish up the rest tomorrow.”
“Sounds like a plan to me.” You twisted around in place to crack your back.
“I’ll go get you some pajamas.” He gave your head a gentle pat before walking off, taking both of your now-empty eggnog mugs with him.
He returned just a couple minutes later in a pair of lounge pants and simple longsleeve shirt, holding out a stack of clothes to you. “Here.”
“Thanks, Kun,” you accepted them gratefully. “But you really didn’t have to—”
“Y/N, were you seriously going to wear the same clothes for like a week straight?” He raised an eyebrow doubtfully.
“I mean, you have a washing machine, presumably.”
“And you would’ve… stood by the washing machine naked? Until they were done?”
You covered your face with one hand as you laughed. “Good point, good point.”
“Seriously, it’s fine.”
“Thanks.”
In the bathroom, you fully appraised the clothes as you changed, a funny sort of tug in your chest when you recognized the sweatshirt he’d given you. It was a plain black crewneck sweatshirt, save for a small rose embroidered on the left wrist, just above the cuff. It had always been your favorite of his to take and wear for yourself before.
The sweatshirt was as soft as you’d remembered, and when you put it on, you were awash not only in Kun’s scent, but warm, happy memories of being held, loved, treasured, safe. You folded up your clothes and left them on the bathroom countertop.
The fire had been put out when you returned to the living room, and the lights on the tree unplugged.
“I uhm, I’m not sure where you wanted me to put my clothes, so they’re on the—” You cut yourself off when you looked up from where you’d been fiddling with the hem of the sweatshirt to see Kun looking at you with an off-putting, oddly mournful look of tenderness. “What? Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, yeah,” he waved off your concerns, his voice tight. “That’s fine, I’ll throw them in the wash with mine tomorrow.”
“Do you have some extra bedding I can use out here?”
“What?”
“I mean, your couch already looks super comfy, but a real pillow would sort of be nice…”
“No, no, you can take my bed,” he shook his head. “I’ll take the couch.”
“Kun, I’ll be fine out here for a few nights,” you pushed back. With humor in your tone, you added, “You’ve done enough sleeping on the couch to last the rest of your life, okay? I think it’s my turn.”
He seemed to understand your joke, but also the sincere intent behind it, and held up his hands in surrender as a smile cracked across his face. “Alright, I know when I’m beat. I’ll get you some pillows and blankets.”
Kun set up your makeshift bed on the couch for you, with a couple of real pillows, a very fluffy blanket, and heavy quilt to go over that. He refilled your water glass from dinner, and set that down on the coffee table for you.
“Oh, phone charger—”
“I have one.” You stopped him with a hand on his arm, going to grab your purse and root through it. “I keep an extra on me. Never know when your phone is going to die reviewing notes in a random café.”
“Right. Cool.” He watched you plug it into the outlet closest to the pillow end of the couch, then stand back up.
“Well, goodnight, Kun. Thanks for letting me stay here.”
“Goodnight, Y/N. Thanks again for coming, and uh, sorry for getting you stuck out here…”
You sat down on the couch, smiling up at him. “Hasn’t been all bad.”
“Yeah, it hasn’t,” he agreed with a chuckle.
When he still hadn’t moved, you realized the both of you must have been debating the same thing. Should you hug goodnight?
To save yourselves, you opened your arms in a half-invitation, and Kun bent over to give you a one-armed hug, briefly rubbing your back before standing back up. He gave you a final hesitant smile and nod. “Night.”
“Night.”
As you laid down, you could hear him walking across the room, and pause at the threshold. Just as you’d finished readjusting your covers and getting cozy with your head on the pillow, the lights were turned off, and you listened to Kun walk all the way into his room and the door creak closed behind him.
You watched the last of the dying embers in the fireplace as you started trying to sort through your muddied thoughts. You and Kun no longer had the awkwardness of bitter exes, but it had just been replaced with a new kind of awkwardness. Now that you didn’t hate each other, what was left? How did you feel about each other?
You still hadn’t figured it out by the time you fell asleep.
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Full-body shivers woke you up, and you blinked rapidly trying to readjust to your surroundings. You pulled the blankets tighter around you, but that did practically nothing. Every inch of you from your fingers to your toes felt like a block of ice, and your muscles were shaking to try to generate some kind of heat. Your teeth even chattered a couple of times.
A hasty look at your phone showed you that it was only two and a half hours after you’d fallen asleep. You turned on your phone flashlight, looking around the walls for the thermostat. Having spotted it at the start of the hallway, you made the hasty decision to throw your blankets off you and run over to it as quick as possible, fumbling to look at the controls. But as best you could tell, the heat was definitely turned on, and it was set to a perfectly comfortable temperature.
You felt terrible for what you were about to do, but you were going to get hypothermia sooner than you would get back to sleep at this rate. Lightly knocking on Kun’s bedroom door, you paid attention for any signs of life. After a moment of no response, you knocked again, a bit louder.
There was a groan from inside, followed by a half-intelligible, confused mumble of your name.
“Yeah, Kun, it’s me,” you responded through the wood.
You heard the sounds of him rolling out of bed, then lumbering over to the door. He opened it, rubbing one of his eyes.
“Y/N, what are you— Shit, it’s a fucking meatlocker out there!” He exclaimed, grabbing at his own arms.
“Yeah, I know. I’m really sorry to wake you up, but I can’t seem to figure out your thermostat and it’s freezing out here.”
Kun pushed past you, shutting his door tight behind him before going to inspect the thermostat himself. “Doesn’t make sense… The heat should be working fine…”
“Oh.”
“God, of course it’s fucking broken,” he grumbled. “I’m sorry about this, Y/N. I’ll go call the maintenance line right now.”
Just a moment later, and you heard more swearing from his room. He came back out with his phone in hand. “Got a text from the management company… Heat in the whole complex is busted, but they can’t get anybody out here until the roads are clear.”
“Shit…”
He spun on his heel back towards the bedroom. “Come on, it’s at least a little warmer in my room. You’ll freeze to death out here.”
You followed him in without complaint, and he shut the door firmly behind you. He grabbed a towel from his attached bathroom and stuffed it under the crack of the door.
You couldn’t see much about his bedroom in the dark except for a few vague shapes, but the air felt noticeably warmer in here than it had been in the living room. Kun opened up a couple of drawers on what you were now realizing was a dresser, and grabbed a hoodie for himself, then handed you a zip-up hoodie. It was big enough to fit the sleeves of your sweatshirt through, and you could feel the chattering of your teeth dying down.
Kun sat down on one side of the bed, and indicated to the other side for you. You obliged, following his lead to slip under the covers. The sheet, blankets, and heavy quilt were still pleasantly warm, and you rubbed your frozen feet together in contentment. You accidentally bumped Kun’s leg, a flash of accidental heat.
“Oh! Sorry, sorry!” You jerked your limbs as far back as you dared without leaving the security of the blankets.
“Fuck, Y/N, you’re an icicle,” Kun said disapprovingly.
“Sorry! I didn’t mean to—”
“Come here,” he sighed and lifted the blankets in between you two.
“Wh—”
“I’m not going to let you freeze to death literally right next to me. Either you come here or I go over there.”
You shuffled a couple inches closer to him, but either he was impatient, or wasn’t sure that you’d follow through, because he moved to close the gap himself, meeting you in the middle and wrapping an arm around you to pull you closer to him.
You gulped, and hoped he couldn’t hear it. “That’s a lot better, actually.”
“I was always much warmer than you,” he pointed out.
Readjusting to lay on your side facing the same direction as him, your hand brushed against his that was slung over your middle.
“God, you feel like you’re about to lose your fingers to frostbite, too.” He covered your hand with his.
You instinctively spread your fingers so his would slot together with them, and it felt so familiar and comfortable that you almost burst into tears again on the spot.
“Y/N?”
“Y-Yeah?” You tried and failed to keep your voice casual.
“I think you’re cutting off my circulation now.”
“Oh God, sorry!” You loosened the death grip you didn’t even realized you’d had on his appendages.
“It’s alright,” he reassured you. “Are you warming up?”
You nodded hastily. “For sure. Thank you, again.”
“I was thinking… about earlier.”
“Kun, for real, if there was ever a time not to fight.”
“No, it’s not— Well it is about that, but I’m not looking for a round two, promise.”
“Okay…”
“I was thinking… about how I didn’t really accept your apologies, and you didn’t accept mine.”
“That’s fine, Kun. Not every apology is made to be accepted.”
“I know, I know. And I’m not fishing for your forgiveness right now. I was just thinking, about how I’m kind of relieved, that we still haven’t you know, finally gotten our closure or whatever.” His breath was getting quicker. “Because I don’t want this to be over, actually. And closure feels like it’d really be the end.”
You squeezed your eyes shut tight and opened them back up again, staring into the inky darkness. “What do you mean by that, Kun?”
“I mean… When I said I never stopped loving you, I didn’t just mean when we broke up. I still do.”
“So you… What? Want to get back together?” Your voice was a hoarse whisper.
“At least talk about it,” he confirmed. “I’ll do anything you want, lovey. Complete restart, take you on a new first date, or we can even just try to be friends first. I’m not saying we have to jump right back in where we left off. I think we need to leave space for the people we’ve become since then but… I know I want to try again.”
You swallowed down your sniffles as you turned over to finally face him. Despite the lack of light, you could find every feature on Kun’s face, holding a caged hopefulness in them. You gently caressed his cheek with the back of your knuckles.
“Okay…” You murmured. “We can try again. I-I want that too.”
You caught just a flicker of Kun’s bright grin before you were tangling your fingers in his shaggy locks and pulling his mouth to yours. It was somehow even better than you remembered, than you had imagined, because it felt like coming home all at once. Like all of you, body, mind, soul, heart, had come home.
Kun kissed you back just as ardently, tangling his legs with yours and pulling you even closer—if it were even possible. One of his hands cupped your cheek while the other wrapped around your waist, bunching in the fabric at the small of your back.
When your lungs were screaming for air and you were light-headed for more than one reason, you broke away, resting your forehead against his.
“Looks like neither of us followed the no gift rule,” Kun said in the negligible space between your mouths, the tip of his nose bumping yours for a moment. “I think I had my heart gift-wrapped for you from the moment I saw you again.”
You chuckled as you stole one, two more kisses from him. “You’re as cheesy as ever, pooks.”
“I have three years’ worth of lines like that stocked up,” he teased, giving you another peck. “And you’re stuck in here with me until next year, lovey.”
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sequel :・゚✧。・:・*
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⤷ 2023 hallmark movie marathon | blog masterlist
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John Price x Wife!Reader
Price has a tendency to wake up most mornings before you...
Tags: SFW, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Innocent, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Mornings, Wife Reader, Soft Price, Price is a little mopey, scarcely proofread
WC: 780~
Masterlist
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Price rubs small circles in your back, feeling the stark comparison that had been the softest parts of your skin, and the most battered parts of his own.
Your body is warm against his, still, with the rhythmic rising and falling of your chest a comfortable weight against him. With each breath you drew, he's let his fingers trace gently alongside you, trailing down your spine as to detail every make and groove of your body.
Price had a tendency to wake up every morning before you; you've lost count of how many times you've woken up with breakfast being made in the kitchen or with him already gone for work. He always cherished his sleep, though it never came easy to him, even with the growing exhaustions of life.
What you didn't see in those mornings he woke before you, however, -- on days such as this where your slumber has pulled you in deeply, lips parted, and drool lightly doting your pillow -- was how his gaze would waver at every new sight of you.
It hadn't felt enough to pull you into his arms every morning, or to plant small kisses to your sleeping head as he rocked you slowly against him, whispering sweet nothings that only he could hear. It could never be enough, and it terrified him to know.
With you here like this, for a moment, the briefest of moments, borne fear. A fear that kept his other hand wrapped tightly around you as you slept. A fear which made him conscious of his touch and every way that he wished for it to never bring you harm. A fear of your absence, and the longing which follows to pocket every bit he could that would last him until the next encounter. A fear that made it hard to put into words, his voice having all but grown hoarse wanting to say to you how much he loved you.
True fear.
His blue eyes gaze back over to the clock at his bedside, restless to its inevitable ticking, knowing what each passing second entails...
Any second and that early morning alarm will ring, and once again, he must leave.
Any second now... and each one carried by the growing dread of the next...
"John..?"
You shift against him, your head lifting, until he's seen your gaze rest on his, a smile forming at the sight. You look half awake as is, your eyes still drooping and your mouth half-open.
Somehow, he felt you sensed his sudden discomfort. You always had a talent for it.
"What's wrong?" You ask.
Price looks down at you, meeting your gaze with a somberness to his own. "Nothin' love," he says. "Just not looking forward to work, is all."
"Mm," you hum.
And then, you lean forward, bringing your face closer to his. Having still been half awake, your movements are riddle in a sluggish manner, your hands sleepily clasping the scruffy sides of his face, fingers gently entangling within his beard. He's felt your warm breath tickle his chin, and its brought his blood to a light simmer, his heart pumping.
"Can I make your morning better?" You ask playfully.
Price smiles, letting his large hand cup the side of your face, bringing your head up so that your lips were matched with his, only but an inch away.
"You already make my mornings better just being here," he says, the morning raspiness of his voice having not left him yet. It tickles down your spine to hear it, every time.
"Sap."
Rather than divulge you in your banter, the man felt he had a better way to respond to you. Price kisses you softly, slowly, knowing these seconds were few and far between, needing to be savored within each moment.
You've told him once before that he kisses you as though every moment were a goodbye. His hands hold you with dedication, each parting breath from your lips short and longing to recapture your mouth with his. For a man as confident and bold as he was, his love had been the softest thing you've ever held.
You pull from his grasp once you've heard the alarm on his side of the bed ring for the fourth time without him so much as budging.
"I shouldn't make you late for work," you say.
Price merely reaches over and silences the alarm, before planting a few more kisses to your lips for good measure, letting his body cage you back onto the bed.
"They'll survive."
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(づ ◕‿◕ )づ
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Text
Muddled Waters 1
No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Part of the Sweet and Spicy AU
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: your boss has a dangerous secret.
Character: Nick Fowler (mob au)
Please comment and reblog if it’s not too much. I always love getting to chat about these stories and hearing all your ideas! You all are wonderful and loved.
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You skewer candied cherries on a long toothpick and balance them over a martini glass. The deep blue drink with a layer of foam is perfectly aligned with the crystal brim. You stand straight as you top off the last of the drinks, a new batch for the waiting customers.
You put the small silver measuring cup aside and nearly cry out as the silhouette hovering in the corner of your vision moves. You touch your chest in surprise as you face Nick with a bashful smile. You didn’t even know he was around that day. Lately, he’s been absent more than not.
“Oh, hi,” you laugh at yourself, “I didn’t hear you...”
“I have a bad habit of that,” he grins, “some have compared me to a cat.”
You tilt your head, “some? You mean, me?”
He shrugs, “was that you?
“Maybe,” you turn and carefully move the stemmed glasses to a tray.
“New flavour?” He nears and stands close. You can smell his cedar cologne.
“Blueberry,” you explain, “bit sweet for my tastes but it fits the season.”
“Ah, sounds interesting,” he reaches and takes one of the glasses and you gasp.
“Nick!” You turn to him and he grins as he sips, the foam clinging to his top lip. He hums as he removes the toothpick from across the rim and nibbles off one of the cherries.
“Tasty,” he commends.
“Why-- Now I’ll to make another.”
“They can wait. It’s more than worth it,” he assures, still standing close as he slurps.
You work in the warmth of his looming proximity. He’s never had much of a personal bubble. Working behind a bar, you’ve grown used to being crowded. You measure and pour and muddle. You garnish and set the drink to replace the one your boss took.
“Right, ready,” you declare.
“Here, let me get those,” he slides the tray across the counter before you can react.
“No, you don’t have to--”
“I want to. Boss man’s gotta do some work around here,” he scoffs and lifts the tray. “You take a load off, sweetheart, I need those hands well-rested. No one else has that magic touch.”
You tisk and shake your head. He can be ridiculous. You won’t complain, he’s the least uptight boss you’ve had. The place isn’t too bad. Upscale with well-tipping patronage. It’s not your typical bar. Most of your work is done behind a wall as the customers drink in private rooms or in the common room where refined jazz wafts through the dim air. The whole place drips of exclusivity.
You clean up and wipe the counter before you wash your hands. Another order appears on the screen. Customers order on a sleek touchscreen, unbothered by servers amid their hushed conversations. You assume they are the types with private jets and luxurious yachts. Of course, they’re too special to drink like normal people.
You start up the next order. Spiced apple cider. A classic though it’s not often ordered. Two to put up. You mix the drinks in mason jars with thick handles. You finish them each with a cinnamon stick.
“Ready to go?” Nick has you squeaking again.
“God,” you throw your hands up and laugh, “how do you keep doing that?”
“Hey, not my fault. You’re in the zone. You know, you get all squinty,” he makes a face, “it’s like the whole world doesn’t exist. Makes me feel a bit small.”
“Mm, well, I guess you’re right. I should pay more attention to my surroundings,” you lift the mugs, “I got these, Nick.”
“It’s no problem, one of my buddies,” he wraps his hands around the jars, “been a while since I’ve seen him.”
“Oh, okay then,” you let him take the cups.
“Take it easy. You do too much.”
You smile tightly and lean on the counter. He goes and you turn around to tidy again. You can be precise. You like a clean station. You’ve worked with too many people who leave the bartop littered in lime peel and broken toothpicks. You can’t make a good drink if you’re working in filth.
But it isn’t just your work. You try not to let the personal seep in but you can’t help who you are. Things should be just so. Books should be lined up and sorted alphabetically and the dishes should be stacked neatly, and the carpet can’t be crooked.
You exhale and run your hands over your apron. Most people might envy your boss for his high company and exorbitant wealth, you just covet his coolness. He’s never bothered by much.
“Sweetheart,” he enters, this time with fair warning. You look up at his pet name. He always calls you that. “What’s that chocolate one you did last time?” He snaps his fingers, “you know, it was kinda creamy--”
“Brandy Alexander,” you answer, “yeah, uh, we’re out of dark creme de cacao. I put it on the inventory.”
“Inventory,” he nods and his blue eyes flick away guiltily, “yeah, I was supposed to do that.”
You cross your arms, “yeah, you were.”
“Sorry, sweetheart, I swear, I thought of it,” he crinkles his nose, “but it must’ve slipped my mind.”
“Mhmm,” you sniff, “well, you have been busy. I didn’t even know you were in town.”
He looks up and his cheek dimples. His gaze falls back on you, “lots of running around. Sorry, sweetheart, if it was up to me, I’d be right here, tasting all your delights.”
You nearly snort but instead just furrow your brow.
“What?” He asks.
“Nothing,” you shrug and turn away, the screen showing another order. “Sometimes... the way you say things...”
He chuckles and leans his elbow on the counter, “I do like to choke on my own foot.”
“You know, I said before, I could make time for inventory. I don’t mind making orders--”
“Don’t bother,” he cuts your offer short, “I know people. I can take care of it. I’ll make a few calls tonight.” He stays as he is, angled against the counter as he watches you. He rests his chin on his knuckles and you glance over as you squeeze a lime dry.
“What?” You ask as you measure out the juice.
“How’d you learn to do all this?” He asks.
“I took a few courses, worked a few dives,” you say, “did a gig on a cruise ship. You know, you figure it out.”
“And you enjoy it?” He says, “I mean, I can tell you do.”
“It keeps my hands moving and my head from racing,” you explain as you mix the drink in a shaker.
“Sounds amazing,” he stands straight, “sooner or later, I need to find something to keep me busy. Something that doesn’t make me crazy.”
You garnish and he swipes up the glass before you can stop him.
“Well, you might just have a calling as a waiter,” you say sarcastically as you wipe your hands on a towel.
“I don’t know about that,” he grins, “I’m not much for taking orders.”
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vodika-vibes · 7 months
Note
Crosshair as a LOVING partner lives rent-free in my head.
A Loving Man
Summary: Crosshair comes home to you after a long day.
Pairing: TBB Crosshair x Reader
Word Count: 1361
Warnings: None
Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni
A/N: So, I wasn't going to write this until tomorrow. "vodika," I said, "You wrote five stories today, take a break before you hurt yourself". And then I saw this and I needed to write it immediately. So. Here you go.
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You hum along with the music as you prepare dinner. This is your favorite time of the day. When the rest of the world starts to slow down and you have time to think, rather than to react to whatever disaster happened to come your way that day.
When you can just relax with whatever meal you decided is on the menu that night. When you can look out the window and see the fireflies flickering to life around the yard, dancing to a tune that only they can hear.
When you know that the love of your life, of any of your lives, will be home at any moment.
And true to your prediction, you hear the front door open only moments later. The familiar sound of the old wooden chair near the front door creaking as he sits down to pull off his boots. The sound of the closet door opening and then squeaking shut as he hangs his jacket. And then light footsteps padding down the hall into the shared bedroom.
He’ll take a quick shower, wash off the strain of the day, and dress in clean relaxing clothes, and then, and only then, will he join you in the kitchen. He hates touching you when he’s covered in a day's work, though he’s no longer a soldier and the worst thing he’ll get on you is motor oil.
You tilt your head to the side as you hear the shower click on. If dinner didn’t require an active participant tonight, you would go and see how he felt about having a shower mate.
Oh well, maybe tomorrow.
You pop a roasted pepper into your mouth, before you focus your attention back to the meat. It’s getting to be the time of year where you can pull the grill out of storage. Only a few more weeks. Maybe you’ll finally talk Crosshair into learning how to cook if it’s something as enjoyable as using the grill.
And then strong arms slide around your waist and you feel a warm kiss against your cheek, “Snacking, kitten?”
“It’s a tragic side effect of being a cook,” You joke as you pick up a piece of pepper and offer it to him.
He eats it from your hand, and hums thoughtfully, “Needs a little something extra,” Crosshair decides.
“Oh? You think so?” You nod to your spice rack, “Pick your poison, Cross.”
He chuckles under his breath, and presses another lingering kiss against your cheek, before he releases you and heads over to the spice rack. “What did you already use?”
“Mm. Garlic and onion powder, paprika-” You list, “How was your day?”
“Uneventful.”
“Well, better that than over-eventful,” You quip with an easy smile, as he returns with salt and pepper. “Look at you, I’ll make a cook out of you yet.” You take the spices from him, though he doesn’t release them.
Instead he leans in and kisses the tip of your nose, “You’re not tricking me into using that death trap you call a grill, nice try though.”
“It’s not a death trap. It’s only blown up, like, twice.”
“Sure, sure. Buy a new grill and we’ll talk about it,” Crosshair finally releases the spices and he turns to set the table.
“Ha! I’ll hold you to that.”
He shoots you a fond look, “I know you will.” He sets the table with the ease of long practice, “Need anything else done before we eat?”
“Hm…” You run through a mental list, “Will you run into the basement and grab a new carton of ice cream, I think someone ate the last of it last night.”
“Oh. Someone did, did they?” Crosshair teases, “Is this someone you, or do we have rats eating our ice cream?”
You press your hand to your heart, “I would never eat the last of the ice cream.”
“Of course you wouldn’t.” he heads towards the basement, “I’ll get you your ice cream, kitten. But you’re going to share this time, right?”
“Oh, yeah. Totally.” You smile at him angelically as he shoots you a look and then he vanishes into the basement.
Crosshair showed up at your clinic 2 years ago. Badly injured, overly cautious, and absolutely terrified, though he did an excellent job at hiding his fear. You knew, just by looking at him, that he was a deserter from the Empire, though you were very careful to not let on that you knew.
It took you six months of patient care to get him to agree to see a therapist, and it took an additional two months after that before he admitted to you that he deserted the Empire…and before that he abandoned his brothers.
Your relationship started not long after that. Though he never mentioned his brothers to you again. And you never pushed, it’s not your place, even now. Crosshair moved in with you six months after you started dating, and now people are starting to wonder when he’s going to pop the question.
You don’t expect him to. You don’t mind either way, you don’t need a legal document to prove what you know, and what he knows.
You hear the basement door open again, and Crosshair reemerges into your home with a carton of ice cream, which he promptly shoves in the freezer. “Thank you, Cross.”
“You’re welcome.”
You beam at him, “Dinner’s done. Bring me your plate.”
“Oh no you don’t,” He directs you to take your seat at the table, “You sit down, I’ll get us food.” He lightly runs his hand over your hair, “It’s not your job to serve me, kitten. We’ve talked about this.”
“I know. I just…I like doing it. I like taking care of you.”
“And I love that about you, but you’ve been on your feet all day, and I know your feet hurt.” Crosshair serves the food, making sure to give you more of the veggies than the meat, and then he sits next to you. 
You smile at him lovingly and tangle your feet with his under the table, and huffs out a laugh, “I love you, Cross.” You say adoringly, mostly because he deserves to know that you love him, but partly because even now his face burns with embarrassment when you say that to him.
“I love you more.” He replies with a slightly ducked head. You don’t mind, a year ago he wouldn’t have even been able to get that much out. So this is a massive step forward.
You decide to have mercy on him and you take a bite of your peppers, and you eat in silence for a time, before Crosshair hesitates and sets his fork down, “Something wrong with the food?”
“No, it’s delicious, as usual.” Crosshair replies, “I…uh…I talked to the Doc today.” You nod, Doc was the only licensed therapist within three hours, and Crosshair has been his patient for over a year now, “He suggests that I reach out to my brothers.”
“Oh.” You set your fork down and fold your hand over his, “Is that what you want to do, Cross?”
He turns his hand over and threads his fingers with yours, “I…don’t know. We…there are some things that can’t be forgiven-”
You nod understandingly, “Do you maybe want to write a letter, and if you decide not to send it, then that’s fine, but it’s there if you want to?”
His shoulders relax, “That’s what Doc suggested. I’d like them to know you, even if they don’t forgive me. They deserve to know the person who encourages me to be better.”
“Well, I’m flattered, Cross.”
He smiles softly, and he reaches out to trail his thumb over your lips, “When I get there, when I’m ready, I intend to ask you to marry me.”
Your lips part in surprise, and then you beam at him, “When you’re ready, Crosshair, then I will be waiting to say yes.”
***********
Three weeks later, on Pabu, Hunter receives a letter from Crosshair. Inside is a simple one page long letter, a picture of you and Crosshair, and an address, if he should want to write back or visit.
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