#but all my endings are cheesy

[stellewriites]

Part 5 - John Price x reader

Series Masterlist

Summary: When John gets an unexpected invite to his ex-wife's wedding, he scrambles to find a suitable date to take with him to ward off old ghosts from his past.

Notes: trans John, fat reader, smut - fingering, oral (f!receiving), riding/frotting, John's genitals are referred to as cock.

You’d been screening John’s calls and leaving his texts unread for the last fortnight, feeling worse and worse for it and not knowing exactly why you were doing it.

Each notification had your heart pumping in excitement for the possibility of him still reaching out despite your silence, and then thumping too hard in immediate anxiety and guilt.

“Stop moping and text him,” Kate said to you finally. She’d been watching you check your phone routinely throughout brunch and had noticed how you were only half focused in their conversations and slow to engage. You’d laugh a second later than the others and had forgotten what you’d ordered when it had arrived at the table.

“I’m not ready for dating.” You shrugged her off, looking back down at your phone.

She huffed and sent you a disbelieving look. Your other two friends currently present, Cass and Paige, paused their conversation to look at you doubtfully too.

“I’ve not seen you as happy as you had been recently when you were hanging out with him,” Kate said and the other two agreed. “I know this isn’t a confidence thing either. He said he liked you, and you clearly liked him.”

“Katie,” you said warningly.

“She’s not wrong,” Paige said and took a sip of her drink.

“I mean, hell, if you’re really set on not dating, then don’t! That’s fine, but text the guy back for god’s sake and hang out again. Or put him out of his misery.” She bit a large chunk out of her avocado toast as you slumped in your chair.

“He’s still trying, right? That’s what you were worried about?” Cass said, hitting the nail on the head.

Guiltily you looked down at the unanswered messages under John’s contact. It stung to realise that maybe John had been genuine that night and you’d turned him down so bluntly.

You chewed on the inside of your cheek and typed up your reply, sending it before you could talk yourself out of it.

>> hi john sorry for the distance, i’ve been figuring some stuff out. make it up to you over coffee if you’re free later?

He didn’t leave you waiting anxiously for long, replying immediately with an affirmative.

“What did he say?” Paige asked.

“We’re meeting up later,” you said a little bashfully. “He said he’s looking forward to seeing me.”

Kate smiled knowingly. “Yeah, I bet.”

You elbowed her lightly and put your phone away. It was easier to settle back into the conversation with the group, easier to concentrate, with your chest not feeling so tight.

——

“Hey,” you greeted him softly inside the coffee shop later that day. He’d arrived early again.

You felt almost more awkward now than you had when meeting him for the first time.

“How have you been, Sunshine?” He asked as you took your seat.

“Good. Fine. Yeah.” You nodded before you shook it. “I wanted to apologise, John. For a lot of things but—“

“No need, Sunshine, honestly,” he waved you off gruffly, leaning forward in his seat as you shrank back in yours. “I’m just glad you’re happy to see me now.”

“I am,” you confirmed with a shy smile, sat opposite him and growing more relaxed at the pleased twitch of his moustache.

“So what’s been new?” He asked again.

You snorted. “It’s only been a couple of weeks since we last saw each other,” you said.

He blushed, the pink flush half hidden behind the beard he was growing back out.

“Guess I got used to all the updates throughout the day quicker than I’d realised.” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly before looking to the counter and sitting up straighter. “Do you want anything? My treat.”

Your smile had dropped at the reminder of how you’d skipped out of his life so suddenly; even though you didn’t owe him anything, you had grown to be friends before the wedding and you know you’d have been hurt if it was the other way around.

“Yeah, just an iced latte please,” you said before stopping him from standing. “Hey, I said I was making it up to you. I should be paying.”

He huffed a laugh. “Not likely. You’re making it up to me by sticking around, Sunshine. You didn’t have to come at all.”

“John…”

“One iced latte coming up,” he said and stood. “God knows why, they taste more of sugar than coffee.”

“That’s exactly why,” you huffed a hesitant laugh as he headed to the counter. When he came back a minute later and sat down with the drinks you took a sip before speaking. “To answer your question, work has been the same old, but I’m thinking of maybe getting a pet? Tied between a cat and a rabbit at the moment. If it’s a rabbit, I’ll need to sort the garden though, it’s little bit overgrown right now.”

His eyebrows raised in surprise and he put his tea down. “You got the tools for it?”

“I think my neighbour has a lawnmower and my mum probably has a pair of shears I could borrow for the hedges,” you hummed. It had only been a half thought semi-recently, so you’d not put much planning into the idea yet, just the start of a pinterest board of cute ideas.

“I could help,” he offered, a touch too casual. “If you wanted. I’ve got a lawnmower I don’t get to use too often and some time off before I have to head back to work.”

“I’ll think about it,” you said with a gentle smile.

He nodded.

“What about you?” You asked.

“Same old,” he said vaguely, repeating your own words back at you. He shuffled uncomfortably in his seat. “I am having to go back to work properly soon though.”

You tilted your head, confused at his drab tone, certain as you were that you’d messaged once or twice when he was at work, stuck doing paperwork or in a meeting before the wedding.

“I’ll be heading overseas,” he clarified. “Might not be contactable for a few weeks at a time. Just didn’t want you to think…”

“That you were ignoring me to get back at me for the fact that I ghosted you?” You guessed when he trailed off. John nodded sheepishly.

“Fuck, I’m glad I’ve gotten to see you before I go,” he said quietly, just looking at you.

“Me too,” you agreed. Impulsively, you finished off your drink and made a quick decision. “Do you want to come back to mine for dinner? I’ll cook.”

John grinned brightly. “I’d love that.”

——

You busied yourself in the kitchen when you got back home with him, missing his chuffed smirk when he saw your door was still in working order with no sign of it dragging on the doorstep.

You didn’t miss his hum when he joined you in the kitchen a moment later.

“That shelf meant to be on a slant?” He asked, eyes shrewd as he looked at your collection of herbs and spices.

“Oh, no but I’ve just never found time to fix it. And it’s not fallen down yet, so it’s not even made an appearance on my Urgent List.” You shrugged.

He hummed again and headed back to the front door. “I’ve got my tool box with me, I’ll sort it now for you.”

“No, John, you don’t have to,” you called after him, but he was already out of the door. You didn’t know that he’d kept his toolbox in his truck ever since he was first here just in case you messaged again needing anything sorted, and now he was glad his foresight was paying off.

The shelf was sorted quicker than the kettle boiled and you swatted at him to go relax once he’d cleaned up after himself. He placatingly held his hands up in mock surrender and went to wash up in the bathroom while you rinsed some veg under the kitchen tap.

You were given ten minutes of peace before you started to wonder where he’d gone and left the pasta in the pan boiling and the sauce on a low heat to find him. You weren’t afraid to chew him out if he was snooping, but instead you found him hunched over the sink in the bathroom.

“Taps were finicky,” he said before you’d had chance to ask him what he was doing. When he’d had chance to grab his tools from the kitchen without you noticing you didn’t know, but you couldn’t help but snicker as he frowned down at the old taps.

“Don’t do well sitting still, do you, John?”

He shrugged. “Figured I might as well since I’m here,” he said instead.

You snorted. “Come help me with the sauce once you’re done here then.”

You stifled a laugh when you heard him swear through the open door before the sound of a running tap turned on and off a few times. He came back through to the kitchen a little later with a satisfied smile and you did your best to concentrate on cooking instead.

You smiled at him when he settled in next to you to take over stirring the sauce, leaving you free to set the table. You felt a pang of domesticity, it was all so easy with John.

You plated it up and sat down together. Eating dinner with him was just as easy, the awkwardness you’d felt walking into the cafe forgotten about completely as conversation flowed naturally between the two of you. Though you did have to fend the man off from planning to go out in the morning to get the wood to build you either a hutch for a potential rabbit or put up climbing shelves if you decided on a cat instead; he’d figured you’d be able to decide by time you’d finished the pasta.

“Best meal I’ve had in a while,” he sighed happily when he finished off the pasta. “Stunning.”

“Thanks, John,” you said bashfully. When you stood to take the dishes he moved quicker and grabbed the plate from your hands. You didn’t bother complaining, knowing how stubborn the man was already; instead you joined him and put the dishes away once he’d cleaned them, smiling to yourself as the pair of you worked in comfortable silence.

When all was put away and your kitchen was back to normal - now with a sturdier shelf - he smiled and headed for the door reluctantly with his toolbox in hand.

“Thanks for today, Sunshine,” he said softly and, after a brief moment of deliberation, he leant in to kiss your cheek. “Talk to you later?”

You nodded happily and closed the door behind him.

When you laid in bed later that night you couldn’t stop thinking about the gentle, chaste kiss. The only real one you’d shared so far.

——

You only got a week with John before he disappeared. He’d made you promise to keep him updated like you would normally so he could catch up when he got back again, but you tried not to overwhelm his notifications; sticking to a couple of texts every few days instead of the daily messages you’d quickly fallen back into.

If he wanted more you were sure he’d let you know and if he only skim read the mountain of messages and photos you’d still managed to send then you’d ease up next time.

He said he would be gone a month, tops, but you didn’t hear from him for two. You tried not to worry, his job wasn’t an exact science, but that fact could make you more anxious depending on the day.

It was a random Wednesday evening when you got a knock on your front door and your heart suddenly plummeted.

You walked to the door with shaking hands. The repercussions of John’s work had never fully occurred to you until this moment, or at least you’d done your best not to linger on it for too long. But now visions of the person on the other side of your door being someone in an official uniform, waiting to let you know weeks too late that John had—

John had shown up to your house unexpectedly.

“Sunshine.” He smiled.

Clearly tired, he stood on your doorstep with his hair damp and curling at the ends, his beard overgrown and his work gear still on, though a big bag was hooked over his shoulder. His smile never wavered, relieved when you answered the door.

“John?” You stepped to the side to let him in without a second thought and he trailed a heavy hand appreciatively down your arm.

“Cleaned up a little at base, but I haven’t stopped driving home since. I’ve had you on my mind as soon as we were wheels down,” he admitted with soft eyes.

You didn’t question his use of the term ‘home’ when referring to driving to yours after spending months in another country and you certainly weren’t going to think about how it made you feel.

“You should’ve gone back to yours to sleep, or at least dropped off your things,” you berated him half-heartedly. “We could’ve caught up when you weren’t running on— what? Four hours of sleep?”

“Knew you’d be my first stop.” He’d dropped his bag by the front door, his daft hat dropped on top, and was slumping onto your couch with a heavy sigh. “Should’ve left my shit at base maybe. Just didn’t want to have to drive back tomorrow.”

“Have you eaten?” At his slight shake of the head, you moved to the kitchen and started pulling something together, leaving him to relax. You knew he must be tired by how he wasn’t following after you, and your suspicions were confirmed when you came back with a thick sandwich, the last slice of a quiche you’d made earlier in the week and some picky bits from your fridge to find him asleep. You cringed at the lacklustre dinner, but you hadn’t been expecting guests and you were going grocery shopping tomorrow, so you placed it on the coffee table and sat down carefully next to him so he didn’t wake.

Turning down the volume on the TV, you let him nap as you watched a few episodes of your latest favourite. You couldn’t help but let your eyes dart over to him every so often to check on him, giggling when you noticed his mouth had dropped open during his well deserved catnap.

You paused your show when he grumbled and wiped a slow hand over his face a few hours later.

“Hello, sleepyhead. Hungry?”

“Starving,” he groaned croakily.

“Best I could do on short notice,” you said and handed him the plate. You watched like a big cat documentarian as he tore through the food with an unholy passion, finished in minutes. You silently handed him your water and he chugged it back with a loud ‘ahh’ after.

“Lovely as ever,” he said sleepily before nodding back off. You stifled a laugh and stood to grab him an extra pillow and blanket. It was clear he wouldn’t be driving home tonight, so you thought you might as well let him get comfy and crash on the couch for the night.

A brief thought crossed your mind of waking John and letting him share your bed; you’d done it for the wedding after all, and it wouldn’t have to mean anything.

You shook your head and draped the blanket over him. You knew it would mean something and you weren’t ready to make that step yet as much as you wanted it.

——

You woke in the morning to John using your shower and you smiled at him with raised ‘brows when he came back out dressed in more familiar civ clothes. You looked for the bag at the front door but couldn’t see it.

“Staying for breakfast or heading home?”

“Heading home, sadly. But I’ll call you later, yeah? I want to catch up properly,” he said. “Thanks for letting me stay, Sunshine.”

“Of course,” you said genuinely and in between bites of your cereal. “It was a nice surprise.”

He hummed and leant in to kiss your temple with a warm hand cradling the back of your neck. You tried desperately not to push into him and to ignore the thoughts of how he smelt like you out of your head; how if anyone tried to flirt with him on his way home they’d smell your strawberry shampoo and very berry body wash. How your spring air scented febreeze spray had sunk into his jacket from the couch through the night.

Your subtle mark was all over him and neither of you seemed to mind.

“Call me when you get home, John.”

He hummed, lingered for a moment more, then headed out with his bag in tow.

——

The bar was loud and your friends were still wide awake and partying strong, celebrating the news of Paige’s well earned promotion. You, however, were flagging.

It was late, and the prospect of staying out any later was making holding back a yawn nigh impossible. You’d never been a big drinker so you’d not been keeping pace with the others, a possible mistake since you seemed to lack the same energy as them, found firmly in their second wind. The last thing you wanted to do was bail but you didn’t want to bring the mood just down hanging around either.

Your phone buzzed and you smiled when you saw it was john.

>> Still awake?

<< for once yeah :p

>> What show has you gripped to binge watch late into the night this time?

You snorted.

<< out celebrating with friends, paige got promoted!!!

>> Tell her congratulations from me

>> What time does the party end?

<< idk but i’m ready for bed already 😪

<< taxi isn’t booked for another couple of hours tho :(

John’s speech bubble appeared and disappeared a few times and you watched the screen avidly.

>> Do you want me to come meet you to walk you home?

<< really??

<< would you mind? it’s late and a little cold so you don’t have to!

>> Send me the address and I’ll set off now

<< thanks john ❤️

Either John lived close or he’d ran there, as you’d only just finished telling your friends that you were leaving early when John turned up.

“You shouldn’t leave on your own, walking home at this time of night is dangerous,” Cass said worriedly, her words slurring slightly.

“I’m not, John’s meeting me to walk me home,” you said and flushed when they all cheered and whistled at the mention of his name; their catcalls gained volume and enthusiasm when John walked through the bar door a second later, head on a swivel as he looked for you in the crowd.

“Fuck off,” you hissed at your friends playfully and hugged them all goodbye before you headed over to John. He was grinning and waved happily over to your friends, nudging you when he saw the embarrassed scrunch of your shoulders.

“Good night?” He asked once you were on the path outside.

“Yeah.” You smiled. “She deserved the raise like three years ago, but at least they’re finally recognising all the work she does.”

John nodded along. He cursed a moment later when he felt a few raindrops. You both looked up at the gentle patter and gasped when it quickly turned torrential.

Your walk turned into a run as John grabbed your hand tightly and led you a little shop alcove near by, shoving you under and crowding in after you.

“Shit, I should’ve driven,” he blamed himself, looking at your soggy jacket and the rain that had splattered your round cheeks.

“Don’t worry about it, John,” you waved it off. “Bit of rain never hurt anyone.”

The pair of you were pressed close, his broad shoulders and your wide hips taking up the space in the doorway enough that you were both holding your breath in each other’s space.

“Just my luck really,” you said.

“It’s just British weather,�� John corrected. “Don’t know why I wasn’t expecting it to rain in the middle of summer,” he joked.

You laughed and felt butterflies flutter at his mirrored rumble, focused on where your stomach pressed against his. You no longer felt tired stood with him.

It went quiet, with just the soft rain and the sound of the odd car passing by the only things heard for a moment as you both held your breath, eyes locked.

You leant forward those last few inches and pressed your lips against his. Your noses bumped and you automatically lifted a hand to tilt his chin slightly to adjust, pressing your lips a little firmer when he followed your guiding hold. His hands on your hips were reverent as he let you lead.

You delighted in the scratch of his beard for a split second before suddenly flinching back, your hand becoming firm against his shoulder to keep him from following.

“Fuck,” you swore shakily. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t apologise,” he huffed with a confused smile.

“I shouldn’t have done that,” you insisted. You felt him lean towards you and firmed the stretch of your arm to keep him in place as best you could in the small space. “It’s mixed messages. It’s not fair to you.”

“I’m still waiting,” he admitted. “I’ll wait however long y’need, Sunshine.”

You ducked your head.

“I feel guilty,” you whispered. You swallowed thickly as the reasons were finally voiced even as you avoided his eyes. “I feel like it’s Charlotte all over again for you; I’m stringing you along when you could be finding someone else. I’m— it’s not fair,” you repeated.

He leant back in shock, a frown pulling at his brows and his mouth moving silently for a moment. John looked down at you from his tucked in chin and considered your comparison, knowing the quick denial on the tip of his tongue wouldn’t soothe you.

“Have you decided that then? You don’t want to be with me?” He asked finally.

You hesitated, unable to lie and say no, and he latched onto that with a fierce hold.

You thought back to what your friends had said, the fun you’d been having with him again, how natural it all was.

“Sunshine…”

“We could take it slow?” You asked.

“Of course,” he agreed readily, pushing those few inches closer to you in eagerness. “Slow and steady, whatever you need.”

“Ok.” You nodded.

“Ok?”

“I like you, John,” you admitted almost shyly, smiling up at him. “I want to try.”

In the next breath he ducked close to kiss you again.

You were pressed against the damp, grainy wall of the little alcove as he greedily slipped a hand beneath your shirt and hungrily kissed you, not stopping for a breath or a gasp now that you’d given the go ahead.

“W-what— happened t-to,” you gasped as he filled your space and every thought. The patter of the rain going unheard as his shaky breaths filled your ears and echoed torturously. “Take— taking it s-slow?”

He sucked on your lip before pulling back and panting, swapping breaths with you. “I’m not down on one knee, am I?” He asked as though you were being obtuse.

You snorted, eyes wide in disbelief. But you didn’t push him away, instead your grip kept him close.

He dipped in for another peck and you cupped his bearded cheeks.

“My house isn’t far from here,” you suggested softly. Testing the waters.

In a flash John was dragging you out of the alcove and down the street with you laughing as you splashed through the puddles to keep up with his determined pace.

“Wrong way, John,” you laughed and tugged at his arm, directing him the to follow you and head the other way towards your house. He crowded against your back, slightly off to the side, and you felt butterflies erupt at the sound of his low chuckle as your steps overlapped and you tripped each other in eagerness.

——

Once you were safely inside your home, it didn’t take long for you to get naked and climb on the bed. You dragged John along with you, clad still in his boxers.

He hovered over you as you laid back flat, his broad palms running from your ribs to your flank soothingly as he settled between your thick thighs.

His eyes were all black, the usual greyblue just a thin strip around the edges as he took you in in all your glory.

The need to make you keen and cream on his fingers was obvious by his hungry expression and the flexing of his hold on your softest parts.

“Been wanting this for too long, Sunshine,” he whispered. “Longer than you know.”

“Think I can guess,” you gasped as he lowered himself down and kissed your stomach, making sure to cover each curve and roll as he journeyed up, keeping his warm palms cupped and dragging up your sides as he kissed between your breasts. Your knees squeezed him at the ribs when he palmed one of your tits, using the light hold to lick a broad stripe over the sensitive nipple. He went back to kissing higher, trailing up along your stretched neck and biting teasingly at your earlobe before coming face to face.

“Any preferences?” Fingers, tongue, toys.

“I’d prefer to cum sooner than later,” you said cheekily, basking in his eye roll.

“Yes, ma’am,” he huffed good naturedly. “I’ll do my best.”

He leant down and kissed you, plunging and messy, not like the dry brush of lips in the rain or the rushed eager swaps of spit and squished smiles on the way home and into your bedroom. You brushed your hands over his furry chest and trembled pleasantly, raking your fingers through and sighing at the strength usually hidden beneath layers of baggy and comfortable clothing.

“John,” you sighed and he shuffled his way down back between your legs.

“Just lay back and relax,” he ordered before trailing his nose through your bush, huffing in an opened-mouthed breath with a pleased hum.

“Need a map?” You joked breathily, breath hitching when he huffed an amused breath at your opening, pressing a light kiss there afterwards. His thumb gently spread your vulva and he gave a gentle kitten lick. Using the building wetness he found he trailed his thumb lower to your arsehole and kept it there with little pressure.

“Nah, this is your clit, right?” he asked teasingly. You snorted, but felt your pussy clench and your muscles tense when he added a bit of pressure.

“John—“

“Relax,” he said again. He moved his attention and his hand back up. “Don’t need a guided tour, though I appreciate the offer; wouldn’t mind watching you show me what you like another day. But I know what I’m doing, love.”

He licked a stripe up your centre and your eyes fluttered, your hips pushing up into his hands when he puckered his wet lips around your clit and gently suckled. “Yeah, you do,” you whimpered.

He slipped his middle finger inside fluidly, no resistance, and you let out a soft sigh, your hips subtly raising to get him as deep as you could. He changed the angle of his mouth so his strong nose nudged at your bundle of nerves and he could mouth at your plush wet opening instead. He licked around his finger, adding to the sticky mess as you practically sucked him in.

He could tell by the flutters of your cunt that you were enjoying yourself, the pinch of your brow only adding to his confirmation when he looked up, but you were so quiet.

“Y’can be loud for me, Sunshine,” he said, curling his finger and grinning cheshire-cat-wide when your jaw dropped at the feeling. “Don’t be shy.”

“Give me reason to,” you said with a cut off gasp. “W-work for it.”

He felt heat rush to his core, fattening his already throbbing cock.

As you wish.

He hooked one trembling thigh over his meaty shoulder and focused back on the heat between your legs; like sticky syrup, slippery between the pads of his fingers as he dipped a second finger in beside the first.

He gave you a moment to clench around the thicker intrusion with closed eyes before setting a quicker, less forgiving pace than before. You let out a surprised grunt, your hand flying down to grip his hair as he sealed his lips to your clit with a wagging tongue.

“Fuck.”

His left hand moved to keep your hips still, strapped across your soft tummy like a seatbelt, his palm a firm pressure in the soft pudge below your bellybutton.

He broke the seal of his mouth to heave in a panting breath and nibbled at the soft skin of your thigh beside his head to catch his breath while his fingers continued to pull sweet noises from you.

You whimpered softly, dropping your hands to the mattress and clinging tight to the sheets and felt your cheeks heat up when John chuckled.

“Can’t tell what I prefer hearing,” he said and paused his fingers deep inside of you, spreading them to get a little look at the desperate cling of you around his long digits. Your creamy arousal slid down the back of his hairy knuckles and he revelled in the light squelch as you wriggled in his hold, urging his fingers deeper inside. “Your sweet cunt or your careful moans.”

“Please, John,” you asked. Pleaded. “I’m close.”

He slipped his fingers free of your tight clutch and shushed you with a smile when you whined. Licking his pruny fingers clean, he groaned at the taste.

“I’ll get you there, Sunshine, don’t worry.”

He left a wet smack of a kiss on your thigh before ducking back down and licking deep and insatiable into your needy cunt, his fingers focused on your sensitive clit instead, rubbing almost too hard and too fast as your hips pushed your cunt further into his mouth. His arm kept you locked close and unable to shift away, not that you wanted it to end, but the sudden onslaught of hyper-focused attention was a lot after his teasing and after so long without a partner. Your hand had made its way to the back of his head once more, cupping gently, but urging him forward with a steel determination. He wasn’t allowed back up for air until you’d cum.

He pinched your clit and you shrieked at the nip of pain beneath the pleasure, feeling yourself tumble over the edge as he huffed and grunted into your pussy like a man starved.

John held you close by the thighs with both hands as you arched and clenched on his tongue; slobbering and groaning against your tender vulva as you cried out. He gave your thigh one light but sharp slap as you flooded his senses; sweaty and salty, the taste and scent of you.

You collapsed back with a breathy little, hnngh, and let your fingers scratch lazily through his hair where he’d rested his face in the groove of your groin.

He hummed and dragged himself further up your body before slumping over you, kissing the taste of you into the back of your mouth, ingraining it into your tongue, gums and teeth as you whined and writhed beneath him.

“Jesus fucking christ,” you laughed tiredly into his mouth. “Gimme a chance.”

He smiled and ground himself against your hip. “Can’t help it, y’make me feel like a teenager.”

Your nose scrunched and he huffed a laugh. “A’right, won’t make that comparison again.”

You pecked his lips in thanks and slipped your hand down between you, gathering a glob of your own arousal between your fingers. Thoroughly lubed, you pushed your hand under the band of his boxers and rubbed the collected juices over his cock and watched his brow pinch in pleasure.

It was your turn to tease.

You leant up and kissed him open mouthed and slow, the tease of tongue against his lips as he humped against your hand, moans mingling in breaths shared.

You moved your hand lower, went to slip in a finger but he gripped your wrist tightly. You looked up with wide eyes, hand falling loose in his grip where it had stopped you in your tracks.

“No, not like that. I don’t— I don’t like—“

“That’s ok,” you interrupted his stuttering explanation, watching walls build up before your eyes that you were determined not to let solidify. He didn’t need them around you. “We can just keep doing it like before,” you offered easily with a smile and lingering kiss to his fuzzy cheek. “Whatever you want.”

John guided your hand back up hesitantly, watching you as though waiting for the other shoe to drop. He kept your fingers hovering over his cock once more and you pushed forward to rub from tip to root and back up again.

“Yeah?” You asked and watched as his shoulders relaxed again. He moved his arm to lean back on his elbow by your head and you smiled, satisfied with the show of trust. “Yeah, ok.”

You pushed against the spot just below the head of his cock, trapping it against his pubic mound and were gratified as he groaned low, like the sound was forcibly pulled out of him as he thrusted roughly against your fingers. John ducked his head and kissed you, missing the mark in his desperation and licking against the corner of your mouth instead.

You nudged your face up slightly and let him moan against your lips, quickly falling into the distraction of getting him dripping and close; pulling out all your tricks and feeling yourself get worked up in return whenever you felt him throb and pulse in your hand, his thick, hairy thighs shifting either side of yours.

He pulled back and you paused your ministrations immediately, worried you’d done something wrong again, but John hurriedly tugged his boxers down and off, kicking them away from the bed and diving back towards you with a ravenous kiss.

Rolling onto his back, John tugged you into his lap so you were straddling him and for the first time in his presence a burst of hesitance connected to your weight bloomed in your chest.

You lifted up on your knees slightly to relieve some of your weight from his hips.

“Oh, John I don’t know—“

“Come ‘ere, Sunshine,” he pulled your hips back down and urged you to ride him, moving with his own frotting hips as your vulva spread to soak around his cock.

With each grind, the head nudged slightly from its foreskin and kissed your clit perfect as you tilted back. You huffed a weak moan as he slipped through your folds and the schlickschlickschlick sounds of your combined arousal mingling and frothing between your thighs had you panting and moving quicker.

Once you found your pace, one hand balanced back on his hairy thigh and the other rubbing at your clit furiously, he lifted his hands from the fat of your hips and stomach up to thumb at your nipples.

You noticed how he moaned and tensed when you slipped heavily over his sensitive tip and grinned a little meanly as you focused a careful swivel of your hips to catch your slick centre on it. You clenched and gushed over his throbbing tip as he whined, gripping you tightly to try and pull you lower.

“Close?” You asked with a breathy giggle, feeling your own legs shake with the oncoming orgasm.

You traced gentle fingers over his faded top scars beneath his thick thatch of chest hair as he groaned and leant down to kiss him. It didn’t take much longer for you both to cum, both worked up and the constant, teasing brushes at your cores were enough to gradually tip you over the edge.

His hand in your hair kept your mouths attached as you panted hot and wet, and when you broke free to the side his beard was scratchy against your nose and cheek as you shuddered on top of him.

“John, fuck.”

“Just like that, just like that,” he thrusted up in jerky little motions before stilling.

You flopped to the side a moment later, less conscious of your weight but wanting to be comfortable, and he gathered you close immediately. He tucked you under his chin with a grunt, slipping a leg over yours.

“I’m not letting you out of this bed for a week,” he groaned sleepily. You hummed happily, exhausted. He let you drift off before whispering in your ear. “Sorry this isn’t slow, Sunshine, but I won’t be going back to being friends now.”

You grinned and nuzzled closer.

“I think we should go visit my home town next, only fair you meet my crazy family too, yeah?”

John closed his eyes happily and nodded. “Looking forward to it,” he said. “Though my rates are a little higher than £100.”

You pinched his thigh and laughed when he tried to squirm away with a hiss.

You kissed his neck chastely and tightened your arm around his waist, nodding off as you felt him trail a hand back and forth over your naked back.

[heartbreakprincewille]

Also the montage of all the wilmon scenes? Broke me. Absolutely broke me. How far they have come. What they had was SO beautiful and I am so glad that they got to cherish it.

[akiacia]

the things that come back

[thecousinsdangereux]

i just recently discovered your soulmate au and i loves it so much. so incredibly intriguing and well written and damn is it hot 🔥 thanks so much for sharing with us. in your mind, does it have a happy ending for them?

also wanted to ask if you'll be checking in to see the big warrior nun announcement coming tomorrow?

Ahhhh thank you! This ask is kind of tragic now given how everything with Warrior Nun ended up going, but I thought I'd use it as a way to share my ideas for the rest of a beggar in the morning, if anyone is interested in learning how it was going to go. Long story short, it was going to have a happy ending. :)

Here's a full outline for what I had in mind for the second half of the fic. Under the cut because it's very detailed in the parts that I'd started writing. Also in case anyone cares about spoilers? At the moment, I don't plan on finishing this fic, but I do plan on returning to writing in general, so guess there's a non-zero chance that I could come back to it. Stranger things have happened.

Beatrice keeps looking for the recipient of the Letter she's been trying to deliver and starts taking trips out into the countryside. She takes Ava's advice and takes to enjoying the journey - stopping into small cafes for lunch rather than eating in the car, taking the long way when it means she can enjoy a new view, etc.

During one of these side quests, she's told about a man who lives way off in the middle of nowhere who has the last name of Reis (the last name of the Letter recipient: Lara Reis), and she tracks him down. He had a sister who had a child with someone who was not her Match. I wanted to go more into what this looks like (and how the church is still anti-abortion in this world, because they think this could potentially ruin a future match, cue eye-roll) but in this case, the woman was basically run out of town. The man directs Beatrice to an orphanage where the child was raised.

This trail eventually goes cold because the orphanage has no records of the girl. They only know she left when she became of age.

The end of chapter six is basically Beatrice being frustrated and taking some 'advice' from Lilith to find someone to fuck hfkjshlk so she goes to the bar and ohhh nooo Ava is working that night, filling in for someone. Ava gets jealous, Bea does some shots, and it's basically a rehash of the lemon drop scene from the show, but hornier. Eventually, they make out, and decide to be friends with benefits.

Chapter 7 was honestly just going to be porn. lol. It's actually some of the first stuff I wrote for this fic - just a page of porn. Beggar came out of a Secret Santa fic exchange, and my friend Alex asked for lots of sex and a soulmate au. So... Chapter 7 was the payoff (part 2). Here's a few disjointed scenes, in case anyone is interested in reading some unedited very E-rated stuff.

A few months go by and all the nuns visit Beatrice for her bday and they're like huh so what's going on here and Beatrice has to pretend that it's not that serious with Ava (lol). I also wanted to do a conversation between Shannon and Beatrice where Shannon talks about the whole Mary thing and loving someone against the will of god (or at the very least, in the very gray areas).

The end of chapter seven is Ava finally talking about her past, which is that Ava doesn't remember hers. She woke up in a hospital without her memories and then spent the next decade traveling around trying to find something that felt like home.

In chapter 8, a lot of time passes, and the fucking continues. Beatrice is kind of losing it, poor girl.

I hadn't exactly decided what was going to happen next, but Ava was going to overstep in some way (or in some perceived way) and Beatrice was going to panic. Either Beatrice was going to have a brief thought about being in love, they were going to have reallyyyy soft sex, or something like that, but either way, Beatrice was going to have to admit she has deeper feelings for Ava than what's allowed allowed, so she goes back to Spain and ignores Ava's texts/calls/etc.

Eventually she realizes she owes Ava closure. She comes back and kind of explains why she's reacted the way she has. She gets more into why she joined the church and it's not for God or the Church itself, but because she does genuinely believe that love itself is holy. She admits she's falling in love with Ava, but she can't break her vows. She believes giving into her feelings would be putting herself above the whole history of love... the sanctity of the entire universe... and to be that selfish would be monstrous.

There's a callback to their early game of three questions, and how Ava still owes Beatrice one answer. Beatrice nearly asks if Ava loves her, but pulls back because she's scared of the answer. They basically break up, but Ava tells Bea to let her know when she's ready to ask her last question.

Beatrice takes it HARD. She buries herself in her work and starts visiting hospitals in various towns. She finds a Spanish doctor and he recognizes the number (or rather, the system behind the number) that is on Letter Beatrice is still trying to deliver. He tells Beatrice she's not looking for a hospital in Portugal, but rather in Spain - one in a small town in Andalusia. He mentions a patient who was in a coma, who woke up without her memories.

At this point, Beatrice obviously knows and she flies to Spain in daze. She visits the hospital, gives them the number, and asks for the name of the patient. When they'd brought the girl in, no one knew where she came from, she didn't have an ID, memories, etc. Nothing except for an old receipt from a restaurant in Portugal. ("Beatrice braces herself for what she already knows, but doesn't want to face.") The nurse at the hospital tells her they used a generic Portuguese name for the girl and it stuck: Ava Silva.

Beatrice visits Cat's Cradle because what else is she supposed to do? How is she supposed to deliver this Letter to Ava, who she's obviously in love with. She talks with Mary and we get the other side of the whole Mary/Shannon thing, and Mary is kind of like, okay, the Letters matter but they don't Matter. Beatrice asks Mary what she would do if she got a Letter (since Mary isn't a nun and could get one, but Shannon never could) and Mary basically says she would throw it away without opening it because she wouldn't want to give Shannon a reason to go self-sacrificial.

Of course, Beatrice doesn't really think this is her call to make. She's going to deliver Ava's Letter. There's this whole scene of her very dramatically and angstily getting ready for the delivery in the Official White Habit, then walking through the town she's come to associate so completely with Ava. And chapter 9 ends.

When Beatrice walks through the doors of the bar, Ava looks up, but doesn't seem surprised, even says 'oh, finally', which is pretty much the last thing that Beatrice expected, but then again, maybe it should have been the first, because Ava is always surprising her, and shouldn't she expect it by now? She asks Ava if she'd known that she was the person Beatrice had been trying to deliver to all along and Ava looks confused at this, like she hadn't considered that at all. "It's not that. I just knew my Letter would be coming because I'd already met you."

Beatrice is like, no no no. That's not how this works. It can't be me. I've been carrying this Letter with me this whole time - before I met you - and the Letters are only sent to a person when they've met their soulmate. And obviously, Beatrice is a nun and can't have a soulmate, etc. etc.

And then Ava says something like this: “Maybe every once in a while, God -- or the universe or whatever it is -- knows that it’ll be really hard to make two people meet organically, so it fudges the rules a little bit. Makes one girl a nun, makes another one hard to find, and sets up the dominos really early on."

And when Beatrice says she's being ridiculous/it's impossible, she says, "I know what’s in that letter. It’s you. I don’t need to open it to know it's you." and "Maybe it’s like some people say and god arranged it all. Fine. Then god chose me for you. Simple. He made me in this exact way, down to my hands and toes and whatever, so that I was perfect for his favorite creation in all of the universe. Because that has to be you."

And: "Or maybe it’s like what those other people say. You know - the past lives reincarnation stuff. Fine, then in our first lives we fell in love and then I found you in the second and third and the five hundredth. I found you and I picked you and I wanted you every time. Or okay, fine, maybe it’s what the the pseudo science people say. Even if those guys are right, I still know. It’s you because at the very start of the universe - at the very beginning of everything - we were the first two bits of something. The first two tiny little sparks. One of those was you and one of them was me. And even when we split off into a million trillion billion infinite pieces, the core of one was you. And the other one was me."

And: "In every religion or in any theory, the world exists so that I can find you again, and the world will do whatever it takes - bend the rules in whatever way - to make sure that at the exact right time, we would meet. And maybe it wasn’t perfect - maybe it was stupid hard for us to get to this point - maybe there was an easier way to make it happen - but I don’t care. Because it worked and I found you and I fell in love with you and I would do anything for that. So yeah. This Letter is telling me that I’m for you. That’s easy. It’s not faith. It’s just a fact.

And: "Besides, whatever’s on that paper? It’s going to be you. If it’s a picture of a butterfly, then it’s going to be you because of that time we went to the dam and one landed on your hand and you said “isn’t the world beautiful?” and that’s when I knew I loved you for the very first time. If it’s the notes to the first bar in At Last, then it’s you, because we used to play it all the time in the bar and I always thought it was fucking stupid to think you'd know like that right away, before everything, but it was the song that played in my head anyways when you walked in the bar that first night. There she is, I sort of thought, a dream that I can speak to."

"It could be any single word or phrase or letter and it would be you, because I love you and I love you so much I see you in every part of this entire world. I love you and I want to keep you with me always, and so you’re always there in my thoughts, slipping over and into everything else and I love it. It makes me love everything I see a little bit more, because it reminds me of you. It makes the world more beautiful."

"So, no offense, but I don't really give a fuck about the Letter. I already know it's going to be you. But I think you need to see it. So you know you’re not as selfish as you think you are."

And Beatrice admits that she wants to be with Ava anyways. Even if it makes her selfish. (Even if it makes her heretical.) Love is holy and what she feels for Ava is holy too, even if it's a sort of holy no one else will ever understand.

I went back and forth about whether they actually SHOULD open the Letter. lol. But I think I eventually settled on that they should, and that when Ava does open it, it's a blank page with like, 7 little dots and Beatrice is like??????????????? But Ava recognizes it instantly and it's the freckles on Beatrice's cheeks, the ones she's always tracing, and she does that again, following the ink on the paper.

Beatrice had been ready to give up her religion for Ava, so getting to keep it, maybe, suddenly is a LOT. She can't quite believe something divine would do something like this for her. But maybe she can believe that something divine would do something like this for Ava.

Later, I wanted Beatrice to have a conversation with Mother Superion. I thought it would be interesting to get into the philosophical bits of it. To debate if Ava could actually be right in her ideas about how this could be, and still fit into what they know about god/Letters/religion. I liked the idea of the conversation ending with neither of them really knowing, and Mother S being like, look girl, you'll never know for sure, but that sounds like faith to me. And Beatrice says no, no this is different, capital F Faith is for the divine. This is just trusting that Ava isn't lying about the freckles thing, or won't get tired of me, or won't find someone else. Etc etc etc. because it's panicking time for Beatrice, suddenly. And Mother Superion just raps her knuckles sort of in the most gentle way she can manage and says "That's love, Beatrice." in the way way someone might say "That's pussy, babe."

Beatrice does leave the church (though she eventually goes back to 'consulting' kind of like Mary). And when she does actually physically leave as well, Ava is waiting outside on a bench. Beatrice asks why she didn't just come inside, and she says something about being a little afraid of churches these days. She did steal god's favorite, after all.

And then they walk off into the sunset, with Beatrice being like wait a second, I thought you said this was all God's plan. And Ava shrugs and says that she would never willingly give Beatrice up, so god might come to her senses and change her mind.

I was going to end it there, but I did consider doing an epilogue as well. Early on in planning I had this idea where, years later, all the nuns regularly come over to the Silvas (because Ava does keep her 'second' name, though she does start to learn more about the Reis family, and meets her Uncle - the dude Beatrice learned about the orphanage from). And on one of these occasions, the nuns are all in white, and they're delivering Beatrice's Letter, which is addressed to Beatrice Silva. In the end, I decided against this, because I liked leaving it more open-ended, but nothing had been set in stone at this point, of course.

So yeah, that was going to be a beggar in the morning. lol. I plotted most of it out before I even started writing, because it wasn't the sort of story you could make up as you went and still tell it well. And I did want to tell the story well! There's a part of me that's sad that I wasn't able to, but I do think it was worth writing what I did. I really loved seeing people realize that Lara was Ava, even as early as chapter 5! And I also loved people coming up with theories about how Avatrice would be endgame. Some of them were honestly really good and maybe better than mine fhdskjhfd I had one person be like PLEASE let Ava's Letter be for someone else so they can metaphorically spit in god's face and honestly that was valid.

I don't know if anyone is going to bother to read this very, very long reply to an ask that doesn't actually ask for any of this, but it honestly just feels nice to put all these ideas together and 'complete' the story. Even if I've done it in the most half-assed way possible I am so sorry fhadskjlfhldsj

[milf-harrington]

29. putting ear over their heart, for steddie 💕

please enjoy some domestic fluff w the barest sprinkling of angst (like a tiny smidgen, barely a paragraph)

---

The apartment was quiet when Steve got in, back from lunch with Robin down at the cafe by her university.

It wasn't the kind of quiet Steve was used to, the kind that lurked in empty hallways. A dreadful, empty sort of quiet that sunk into your bones like water in the lungs of someone drowning.

This was a new sort of quiet: radio playing on the kitchen windowsill, the window by the couch left open with Eddie's ashtray tucked next to the cord for the blinds. Music and voices and engines from the street wafted in on the breeze, immediately dampened when Steve reached up and pulled the window back down with a thud.

It was a lived in sort of quiet. An Eddie's-either-not-home-or-he's-asleep-somewhere quiet.

Considering the window had been left open, Steve was betting on the asleep somewhere option.

Trying to stay quiet, Steve headed down the short hallway and pushed open their bedroom door. The blinds were open, and the bed was half made, the pillows left piled to one side with their cases folded on top like Eddie'd gotten distracted halfway through.

Steve snorted, fond, and stepped back into the hallway.

Their apartment wasn't big- two small bedrooms, a bathroom and a kitchen/living room combination with enough space for a dining table in between - so it wouldn't be hard to track his boyfriend down.

And it wasn't, Steve found him in the second-bedroom-turned-"office", stretched out in a sunbeam, like one of the stray cats he insisted on feeding.

He had one arm sorta stretched above his head, the other resting on his tummy as he snored into his armpit, guitar and notebook discarded to the side. The vacuum was in there too, and Steve had to step over it to get inside the room.

Apparently, Eddie had made a valiant attempt at cleaning while he'd been gone.

The thing is, when Eddie cleaned, he had to make a whole thing of it- turn it into one of his roleplaying games, with outfits and silly voices, or else he'd never actually get it done.

His usual version of a cleaning costume was to just keep his hair out of his face with a headband made out of a bandanna, folded into the cliched little triangle and all, and a long sleeved shirt so he could dramatically roll up his sleeves.

Today, he'd gone as far as to put on an old apron he'd accidentally stolen from a past job working at a deli. The duster he'd shoved in the front pocket was dangerously close to slipping out, only kept in place by the angle of Eddie's hip.

The thing is- Eddie was, like, a really deep sleeper. And he didn't tend to move much. And he was sort of just lying there, bandanna wrapped around the top of his head, hair splayed out under him, head tilted just enough to show off the long-healed scars in his cheek. And Steve was, much to his own dismay, a worrier.

And it had been a good 3 years since the spring of '86, and he could literally see Eddie's stomach rising and falling with each breath but-

But.

Feeling ridiculous, but knowing he'd just get more and more anxious until it became an actual problem, Steve sighed and carefully lowered himself into a crouch. He reached out, intending to shake Eddie awake, just to make sure he would, but paused as his fingers brushed fabric.

If he'd fallen asleep in the middle of the day, on the floor no less, then he probably needed it.

So, sticking his tongue out in a habit he'd definitely gotten from the man sleeping on the floor right now, Steve carefully moved the duster and the arm laying over Eddie's tummy and threw a leg over his hips.

He knee-walked backwards until he was hovering over his thighs instead, and then carefully laid down on top of him, turning his head so his ear was pressed against Eddie's sternum.

It took a second to settle, for the sound of shifting fabric to stop and then-

thu-thump. thu-thump. thu-thump.

He laid there for a little longer, just listening, just checking, until sun-warmed arms wrapped loosely around his shoulders. Steve didn't know if Eddie was fully awake, but he didn't say anything about waking up to Steve on top of him.

Instead he let out a long, pleased sigh. Dug his fingers into Steve's hair and gently scratched his scalp, movements slow and sleepy.

In a few minutes, Steve would sit up and ask Eddie what he was doing napping on the floor and Eddie will explain that he'd been cleaning, and then he'd gotten an idea for a song and he didn't want to forget it.

Then they'd get up, Steve hauling his boyfriend off the floor with dramatic grunts and groans like men twice their age, and finish cleaning the apartment together.

But for now, Steve just settled in a little more comfortably, listening to Eddie's heart beat.

[crym94]

Ok first of all I suck at making comics and they are hella hard for me to plan but I had this scene in mind since forever and I had to try something so yeah 👉👈

Overall I'm pretty happy and it was so much fun working on this and earned loads of serotonin so it was worth it in the end ✨

[kinneys]

jason and marie: touch

[capricores]

pisces/virgo placements... it's about time you took care of yourself, too, ok?

you burn yourselves out allowing yourself to be pulled by so many people in all different directions. you exhaust all your resources and empty your cup - no, your entire well - to help those around you, even people you don't know. it's such a beautiful thing, and i know you genuinely love helping others, supporting people, seeing them thrive. it's such a beautiful trait! but you constantly end up neglecting yourself, right? you don't realize that you have permission to set aside time to care for you, to cater to your needs for once. you often feel like no one puts a drop in your cup, the favor is never returned - it's exhausting; you might think if you just keep giving your all it will come back; i understand. you will find the people that give the same energy back to you one day, but regardless of whether you've found those people yet, you need to learn to step aside and fill your own cup!

setting boundaries and saying no is the most important thing you will learn to do in this lifetime. it will not be easy for you, sometimes it will feel painful. but you cannot help the world if you're constantly drained and tired! you deserve to take care of yourself in the same way you do for others. be gentle to your kind soul, nourish yourself; do the things you love to do. learn to worry about others less, as hard as it is, and focus on yourself more.

[dollypopup]

genuinely wild that early 2000s rom coms have somehow managed to be better written and more giggle kick feet twirl hair in an hour and a half than bton has managed in 8 one hour long episodes

[ptanalo]

I'll finish this some other time but...qwq

[notlivys]

there's never enough of 1d supporting lgbt rights and me speaking about it so here we go. 🌈 HAPPY COMING OUT DAY Y'ALL !!!

just stumbled upon this amazing video by obviously @freddiesmyqueen - since her videos are not available anymore, i almost screamed of joy when this appeared on my dash, shout-out to the person who translated and uploaded it tho <3 - about the always wonderful #rainbowdirection project by @takemehomefromnarnia and burst into tears and got inspired and emotional all at once AND since this is the post-too-much app here i am.

i remember very vividly the child i used to be watching the one direction videos. but i remember even more vividly the overwhelming feeling of boiling shame i had within me for being who i was.

i remember the version of myself that tried and tried tirelessly to fit into the molds of others' beliefs and

every trash principle i had heard since i was old enough to comprehend hateful words. i remember the version who hated and tried to hide her inner self every single day of her life. i remember how it hurt to look into the mirror and see someone i wasn't, because i felt like an impostor.

but i knew, deep down i always knew.

then i discovered people. i started to live and discovered friends, idols. i found a love, too. i saw people holding rainbows signs. i saw people speaking up for those who couldn't.

on the other side, i remember very vividly the little fangirl i was and probably will always be. i remember the first time i felt excitement for a musical release. i remember joining fandom for the first time and i am very gladly i can still be a part of it, even in adulthood.

and to that girl, with too much love for pop stars and too much shame for herself, you can't imagine how important it was to see the people she looked up to affirming that love wins.

in my personal experience, coming out took a really long time. years and years of reflection and distance, but i always knew i could not hate the closeted version of me anymore, because i was not the wrong one. i feel pity for the way i hid, but i no longer resent it.

now, in 2024, still struggling with not being looked at the same way by close people, i still have this too much love for pop stars but now i am so unbelievably proud of who i am. so unbelievably proud of that little kid. for being brave enough to love, for questioning everything and never give up.

with time, i've learned that love gives you freedom.

sometimes they say nah, no one cares if a public person supports and speaks about lgbtq+ rights.

but actually yes, how important it is that the people you admire so strongly remind you that love wins. because love is love and it is freedom and it should be safety. i dream to live to see the moment when love also means being able to do it without a single fear.

every time harry raised a flag in 2015 and every time he raises one now; every time louis wore a rainbow or supports a fan who is afraid. there is always someone i admire reminding me that love is love. that helps pride — at least my pride. that is pride.

they see me and i see them.

and i love them, honestly. always have, always will.

happy coming out day everyone. make yourself proud 🌈❤️‍🩹

[crashoutnarumi]

If the last chapter of My Hero Academia doesn’t feel like I’m listening to ‘You’ll Always Find Your Way Back Home’ from the Hannah Montana the Movie soundtrack then I DONT WANT IT ‼️‼️‼️

[an-au-blog]

Oh, your love is sunlight

Happy (late) Valentine's Day (version without text ↓ +description in tags)

[darkacademiaarchivist]

Every time I read a queer romance book that's ridiculous and cheesy and cliche and doesn't create conflict from coming outs or queerness in general and is just a bottled up queer joy fantasy I cry a little bit

[robotwrangler]

Life is actually so good right now!

[shaykai]

party banter for Wyll and Vat’il?

27. Party banter with Wyll

Vat’il: Wyll. That novel you were reading earlier in camp… Is it any good?

Wyll: The romance novel? I didn’t know you had an eye for such things. It’s cliché, but I find myself passing the time with it more often than not. Have you read it before?

Vat’il: Possibly, though I wouldn’t remember if I had.

Wyll: Ah, right. If you ever feel your curiosity being piqued, I’d be glad to share my library.

Vat’il: I might take you up on that… Thank you.