#gimme threads around this moment ?

[ofengineers]

Mid doesn't even know how much time she has been standing, looking at Bahamut until he fully disappears from her sight while she's crying silently. She doesn't want the others to see, of course. She's supposed to smile all the time, to be that ray of sunshine for everyone at the Hideaway. She wants to be optimistic, more than anything else. She wants to believe the three of them will come back, safe and sound.

She doesn't know much of Dion. He remained in his little corner, very discreet, during all of his time here. But he's an ally, a friend. When he came back to join forces with them, he really proved his loyalty. Mid regrets not learning more about him. Maybe he wouldn't have let her, but maybe she should have tried.

Clive. Clive, he's the big brother she never had. From the moment he chose to honor Cid's legacy and took his name, Mid knew they would be linked forever. She wasn't ready when she lost her father, and she's not ready to lose Clive now. He deserves the best. And Jill... Jill also deserves the best. These two should be happy together. Clive has become such an inspiration to everyone at the Hideaway. He needs to come back so he can live this life of freedom he wants to give everyone. He also brought Joshua to her.

Joshua... If there's one thing she didn't see coming at all, it surely is him. All of him. From his first "my Lady" and his failed attempt to kiss her hand to the way he just hugged her so close to him, in his strong, comforting arms and whispered "I love you" in her ear as some kind of promise, with his soft voice, a voice she could never get tired of. He just left, and it already feels so long. Too long. She can't lose him. She just can't; she won't manage. It scares her how aware she is of that fact.

Now that she can't see Bahamut anymore, she looks at Jill: she's with Gav. Good. The truth is that Mid isn't sure she could have offered her friend the support she needs right now. Instead, she ignores everyone and runs to her room where she can finally let these tears run on her cheeks. She jumps on her bed and presses her face against her pillow.

Her pillow that smells like him because he stayed in her room so late last night. If he never comes back... How much time his smell will remain ? Maybe she'll just never use that pillow again to make sure she doesn't have to wash it, to keep him there in some ways. She knew the trouble she was getting herself into. She knew how delicate it would be from the moment they got closer. Joshua is sick, suffering from the curse and even more with Ultima trapped inside his chest. She saw Cid going through something similar. She remembers it only too well.

But it has been stronger than everything around her, around them. They could have ignored their growing feelings and remained friends until they were sure it was safe. But no. They couldn't waste it because that connection just couldn't be ignored. She didn't want to wonder forever how it would have been to embrace these feelings. And maybe it was silly, but giving her heart to him has felt like a way to give him strength.

She doesn't care if he is the Dominant of the Phoenix. To her, he's Joshua Rosfield. The man who has gone through so much but has still chosen kindness every time. The man who sacrificed so much and deserved to finally live a life of peace and happiness. The man who makes her smile and laugh like no other ever could. The only one she could truly open herself to without fearing of being judged. The only one who could make her feel stronger, unstoppable. The only one whose words, arms and kisses could calm her storms. She needs him forever. Her soul loves his.

it's even stronger than everything she thought love could be. Maybe she never even truly loved at all before; she just thought she did. Their meaningful conversations. Their playful banters. Their moments in her workshop when he was maybe slowing her down but it didn't matter because he was at her side. That room only for the two of them in the Hideaway, where she could listen to him play piano for hours. All these kisses, the soft ones and the passionate ones. The way their arms fit perfectly around each other. This deep connection can't exist more than once in a lifetime.

If Joshua doesn't come back from this final battle, he will haunt her forever.

[sturnioz]

about the one where fratboy!chris doesn't let shy!reader meet his family I THOUGHT ABT SOMETHING

sooo imagine chris's mom otp while he's with reader then reader gets her hopes up thinking chris would somehow mention who he's with right now but he doesn't and it ends up into reader with hurt feelings and chris just being an asshole like it's no big deal

i lowkey wanna be hurt rn GIMME ANGST

you're staring wide eyed at chris, completely captivated at the voice he uses to talk to marylou on the phone — his tone soft and gentle, almost childlike, and he grins at the words she speaks, his eyes twinkling with warmth, causing a smile to creep across your lips.

it's a side of him you've never seen before, and you can't help but feel a flutter of admiration in your chest.

as he walks around his room, his phone cradled in one hand and a pile of clothes in the other, you're stuck watching how tenderly he engages with his mother. his expression constantly shifts between playful to genuine care and adoration.

"yeah, ma. everythin' is good," chris hums softly, placing his phone on the desk and pressing the speaker icon, allowing his mother's voice to fill the room. "classes are good too."

"and how is nick? has he been over recently?"

"y'know nick would rather die than come into the frat house—"

"oh, chris, you know i don't like you saying things like that to me. don't say that."

"sorry, ma," chris apologises sincerely, and you're taken aback by the softness in his tone. it's a complete contrast to the condescending way he usually speaks to you, often laced with sarcasm and mockery. the apology feels so genuine that it makes your heart flutter once more. "he doesn't like it here. prefers to meet up some place else."

"as long as you're seeing each other, that's all that matters," marylou says softly. "'cos your dad and i were worried that you wouldn't spend much time with him with your new living arrangements and all."

"no, no. we're good, we see each other a lot," chris reassures her as he pulls his jeans up his legs, threading his belt through the loops. "you don't need to worry, ma. i promise. we're actually goin' to get dinner tonight. nate's comin' along too."

you knew about the dinner tonight — though you weren't invited of course, you were all too aware of the plans.

"oh, nate," marylou coos softly at the mention of him. "and how is—"

her words are cut off when the book resting in your lap slips from your grasp and falls to the ground with a loud thud, causing chris' head to snap in your direction, momentarily pausing mid-motion.

he then grabs his plain white t-shirt, glaring at you as your lips form a tight-lipped, apologetic smile as you reach down to retrieve the book, your neck and cheeks burning with embarrassment. chris shakes his head at you with a quiet scoff, clearly unimpressed.

"is anyone there with you?" marylou asks curiously, her tone riddled with warmth and inviting.

your heart races as your head shoots up, a mix of nerves and excitement bubbling up inside you. you take a deep breath, ready to introduce yourself properly, hoping to make a good first impression.

"no. just some dumb frat kid next door makin' noise." chris immediately shuts it down, his tone dismissive, and your smile immediately drops from your face, a wave of discomfort twisting in your stomach and chest.

the disappointment stings more than you expected, and you can't help but feel small under his words. you tune out chris and marylou's conversation now, the warmth you felt just moments ago fading into an ache deep within you. mindlessly, you flip through the pages of you book, the words blurring together as your interest in that simmers too.

you don't even realise chris is saying goodbye to his mom, using a sweet tone that would have definitely made you swoon if you were paying attention. you completely miss the heartfelt 'i miss yous' and 'i love yous' shared between them too.

it's only when you feel the bed dip that your attention snaps back to reality, and you raise your gaze to see chris sitting on the edge, pulling on a pair of white socks before reaching for his black converse.

"m'gonna get matt to take you back to your place," chris announces nonchalantly, as if his earlier words hadn't left an impact. "gotta go that way t'get nick anyways."

"'kay." you reply, trying to keep your tone light.

chris twists his head to peer over his shoulder at you, his fingers busy tying his laces. his brows furrow in confusion as he stares at you. "what?"

you murmur back, "what?"

"whats the matter with you?" he asks, annoyance creeping into his voice. "actin' all weird on me. quieter than usual—"

"why didn't you tell your mom i was with you?" the question slips out before you can even think to stop it, a mix of hurt and vulnerability lacing your words.

chris gives you a look that makes you feel foolish, as if you've just asked the most ridiculous question. "why would i?"

his bluntness stings again, and you feel a flush of embarrassment wash over you. it's not just the question that bothers you; it's the slow realisation that he doesn't see how much you wish to be acknowledged, to be part of his world in a way that feels meaningful — more than a casual hook-up, maybe even as a friend.

you swallow hard, trying to gather your thoughts. "i just thought... maybe it would be nice, is all."

chris shrugs, turning back to his shoes. "s'not a big deal, kid."

"it is to me." the words slip out before you can hold them back again, a somewhat desperate plea for an understanding.

"why?" he asks immediately, looking back at you once more. "it shouldn't mean shit to you."

"you know my mom," you state. "you... you've spoken to my mom before, and—"

"'cos that was your choice, kid. yeah? 'n this is my choice," he points to his chest to emphasis his words, the intensity in his eyes making your heart race. "y'want me to tell my mom that i've got some girl in my room? have her question shit? nah... i keep my family life separate to what i do here."

his words hit hard. you understand his need for boundaries, but it hurts to feel so easily dismissed, and the ache in your chest deepens. you want to argue back, to make him see your side, but the words catch in your throat and you fall silent,

[wh0re43van]

Boyfriend Pt 2 (Warren Lipka x Reader)

Summary: Your boyfriend catches Warren being a little too friendly with you, causing a fight to break out. Warren expresses that he wants to be more than a secret booty call.

Word count: 4.4k

Warnings: smut, violence (not really directed at reader), blood, weed

Pt 1 , Pt 3

I wake up to my cell phone buzzing on Dakota’s nightstand. I groan, throwing the unconscious boy off me as I roll over to grab the small rectangle of plastic. I check the digital alarm clock.

2:35 in the morning. Who the fuck is calling me?

My stomach flips when I see Warrens name lighting up on my phone. I run out of the bedroom and into the bathroom.

“Hey,” I whisper. “Warren it’s 2:30 in the morning,” I giggle quietly as I lock the door.

“I know, I know,” he laughs. “I just couldn’t stop thinking about you,” I hear the bong bubbling in the background. My cheeks burn red. “I just got some crazy bud if you wanna come smoke,” I can hear his smirk through the phone. “I can pick you up,” he offers. I smile at his extremely tempting offer.

“I can’t,” I sigh, disappointing both Warren and myself. “I’m at Dakotas. He’ll wake up and I already agreed to drive him to the gaming store first thing in morning,” I explain. He’s silent for a moment.

“Alright,” I can hear frustration in his voice. “Yeah, I’m the side piece, I forgot,” he scoffs. My heart sinks.

“Warren, I’m sorry,” I want to cry.

“No,” he sighs. “I understand I guess. I will see you soon though,” he says calmly.

“Of course,” I sigh in relief that he still wants to see me.

“I’ll see you around, beautiful,” he says, then the line goes dead. I delete the recent call before crawling back into bed, but I’m unable to sleep. I miss Warrens voice so much. I kick myself for not accept his offer as I toss and turn for the rest of the night.

•

•

The next afternoon, I sit across from Dakota in a small local diner, playing with the spoon sticking out of my coffee mug as he talks on his cellphone to one of his friends about a football game or something, I’m not too sure honestly. I’m not really listening.

A car door slams catching my attention. I look out the condensation covered window next to our booth to see Warren and a guy I’ve never seen before step out of a vehicle. My eyes light up.

“I’m gonna go smoke a cig real quick,” I sputter in one breath, taking my pack of Camels and running out the door before Dakota even responds. I walk up behind warren without him seeing me, as he talks to the other guy getting out of the car.

“Got a light?” I ask, popping a menthol in my mouth as I smile from ear to ear, tapping his shoulder. He turns around with his eyebrows threaded in confusion, but immediately matches my expression as soon as he sees me.

“Y/n,” he pulls me into a hug. “Spencer gimme your lighter,” he demands the other guy. He tosses a blue bic lighter to Warren.

“Who’s-“ Spencer begins to ask.

“Just go get us a seat, man,” Warren cuts him off. The awkward boy walks away quietly. Warren turns back to me, his grin returning as he lights the menthol cigarette between my lips.

“Thanks,” I smile, feeling butterflies in my stomach as he watches me remove the cigarette from my lips, exhaling the smoke.

“Mind if I bum one? Spencer locked mine in his car,” he motions to the pack of Newports trapped on the passenger seat. I giggle, handing him a cig.

“You here by yourself?” he asks as the orange flame from the lighter lights up his face and reflects an auburn glow in his dark eyes.

“Uh, no, actually,” I take another drag, motioning my cigarette towards the window of the dinner. Warren tuns to see Dakota talking on his phone, still unaware of my departure.

“Oh,” his grin faulters.

“I’m, uhm, free after this though,” I offer. Just like that, his dimples have returned.

“I have some stuff to go over with Spencer,” he throws his thumb over his shoulder in reference to the awkward boy in dinner, then ashes his cigarette. “But I’m free tonight,” he stares into my eyes. I can’t contain the huge grin plastered on my face. Warren reaches his free hand out to slowly release some loose strands of my hair that the wind blew into my lip gloss. His hand lingers on my face, we lock gazes as his thumb caresses my cheek, I close my eyes and lean into his touch.

“What the fuck are you doing with my girl, man?” Dakota shouts, quickly approaching Warren. He swiftly turns around to face my angry boyfriend.

“Just calm down man. I wasn’t-“ Warren laughs, tossing his cigarette on the ground, but Dakota cuts him off by shoving his chest, hard. He doesn’t budge, but easily retaliates the gesture, sending Dakota stumbling backwards a foot or two. I know it’s wrong, but I’d be lying if I didn’t say its insanely hot watching Warren get angry.

“Keep your hands off me, douchebag or ill kick your ass right here in front of your girl,” he spits in Dakotas face, literally. Dakota looks at me, wiping Warrens’ saliva off his face, then quickly hits Warren with a right hook. Warren’s head snaps to the side with the loud thud of knuckles on skin. Warren looks back at Dakota in shock, wiping the small trickle of blood from his nose. I watch completely stunned, even though I want to stop them, I can’t move. This all happened so fast.

“You hit like a pussy,” Warren chuckles before uppercutting Dakota so hard that his neck cracks as his head flies backward. I snap out of my haze, running over to Dakota as he steadies himself. I grab his arm in attempt to help him.

“Come on, Dakota let’s just go,” I plead, not wanting to watch him get his ass laid out on the frozen pavement.

“Get off me, bitch!” he screams, back handing me, not taking his eyes off Warren. I grab my cheek, about to cuss him out when Warren takes Dakotas collar into his fists, shoving him against Spencer’s car. Warren grabs his throat, holding his head steady, so his already bruised knuckles can strike as hard as possible against Dakota’s jaw. Blood immediately pours out of his busted lip.

“Don’t fucking talk to y/n like that!” he screams, just inches from my boyfriend’s face. The veins popping out of his neck, his knuckles turning white from how hard he’s gripping onto Dakota. Warren spits the blood that’s dripped from his nose between his lips into Dakota’s face. “Does that make you feel strong, pussy boy? Huh? You feel like man when you bitch slap your girlfriend?” he growls, his fist contacting Dakotas abdomen this time, knocking wind out of him, leaving my boyfriend wheezing.

When Warren screams that last phrase, that’s when I realize; Dakota is fighting for his masculinity, Warren’s fighting for me. I turn on my heels to run inside the dinner, finding the boy that Warren arrived with.

“Spencer, right?” I ask out of breath. He nods his head, confused. “Warrens beating the shit out of my boyfriend, I need you to help me stop him before he kills him,” I explain breathlessly.

“Oh,” Spencer says processing what I’m saying. “Oh my- Oh my god!” He jumps from the seat, running out the door with me.

“Warren, dude come on, you’re gonna get arrested!” Spencer shouts, cautiously approaching the scuffling boys. It seems like this isn’t the first time Spencer has witnessed this. It appears that Dakota managed to get another hit or two in, because Warrens eyebrow appears busted and they’re on the ground now, a small pool of blood forming on the frosted pavement underneath Dakota.

“Fuck off, Spence,” Warren growls about to strike again.

“Please Warren! You’re gonna kill him!” I shriek. Warren pauses, Spencer takes the opportunity to pull Warren off Dakota. I run over to my boyfriend, trying to help him up.

“Get off of me you stupid bitch!” Dakota shouts, slapping me off him as he tries to stand on his shaky legs.

“Hey!” Warren shouts in the background, Spencer holds him back again.

“Dakota, please. You need help,” I plead feeling bad for him.

“This is your fault! If you weren’t out here whoring it up with this clown, this wouldn’t have happened,” he screams in my face, blood dripping from multiple different wounds on his face, his nose already purple.

“Just let me drive you home,” I sigh, feeling less guilty since he had the audacity to call me a whore, when he slept with my cousin in my own car two months ago. Actually, after remembering that, I don’t feel bad for him at all anymore.

“No! I’m walking! Fuck off! And fuck all of you! You too Spencer!” he shouts as he limps away, holding his stomach.

 I guess spencer was the mutual friend.

 I turn to see Warren leaning against Spencer’s car, smoking one of his Newports.

“What did I do?” I hear spencer ask, I ignore him.

“Warren I’m so-“ my eyes well up with tears, my cheek still stinging as the cold wind blows against the hand print on my face.

“Come here, are you okay?” He pulls me into a quick hug then examines my cheek. Placing a bloody hand on my cheek.

“Of course I’m fine,” I sigh grabbing his face. “Look at you,” I frown, putting a gentle hand on his face. He winces against my touch. His bottom lip and right eyebrow are both busted. There’s blood coming from his nose, flowing over his lips and onto his chin. His right cheek is bright red and swollen.

“You should see the other guy,” he chuckles, popping the cigarette back into his mouth. How can he joke at a time like this. Nevertheless, I laugh lightly, shaking my head.

“Let me get you cleaned up,” I offer.

“I’ll go get your keys and stuff,” he smiles.

“No, Warren, I can get them. Just stay here,” I dash back into the dinner, everyone giving me weird looks. I smile awkwardly, throwing a 10 down on the table, then run back to the boys, the bells on the doors jingling loudly behind me.

“Okay, come on,” I take Warrens hand.

“Should, uh, should I just go home then?” Spencer asks awkwardly with his hands in his pockets.

“Yeah, Spence. Get the fuck out of here,” Warren dismisses him, half joking with the timid boy. I can tell that their friendship has an interesting dynamic.

•

•

“Thank god my folks ain’t here,” Warren sighs as he unlocks his front door, allowing me to enter the home first.

“Where’s your first aid kit?” I ask looking around the house, which is becoming a familiar scene.

“I’ll grab it, just head down to my room,” he says motioning to the basement door as he walks up the carpet steps. I obey, making my way to his bedroom.

I sit down on his couch, a few moments later, Warren enters with the first aid kit.

“Is the worst of it on your face?” I ask the mangled boy in front of me as I pop the plastic box open. He winces as he pulls his black t-shirt up and over his head. He turns around to reveal a nasty patch of road rash stretching from his spine over to his left shoulder. “Oh, Warren,” I gasp, sadness in my voice. I feel horrible for him. He sits down on the couch next to me.

“He got the best of me for about four seconds, but it was enough to fuck my back up pretty bad,” he laughs. Somehow still smiling even though he’s covered in dried blood-most of it not his- and his lip is busted.

“I’m sorry about that, Warren. I should have just stayed in the diner,” I shake my head as I open a gauze pad and grab the rubbing alcohol.

“But if you’d done that, you wouldn’t be sitting in my room right now,” he grins, but winces a bit. It probably hurts to smile; His cheek is bruised pretty bad.

“Yeah, but at least you wouldn’t be in pain,” I say as I pour the strong smelling alcohol onto the gauze.

“Worth it,” he smirks, resting his busted knuckles on my thigh.

“This is gonna sting,” I say, taking a deep breath. He nods, closing his eyes. I press the alcohol soaked cotton onto his split eyebrow.

“Fucking hell,” he grunts through gritted teeth, squeezing my thigh.

“I know, I know,” I pat the wound a couple more times before removing it. “I’m sorry,” I dampen another gauze pad, moving to his lip. He hisses again but allows me to clean the gash. Finally, I have him stand and turn so I can clean his shoulder. I can’t help but admire his back, running my fingers gently over the undamaged skin, leaving goosebumps behind every trace. The room is quiet, just the faint buzz of the dim overhead lights and Warrens breathing.

“Does it look bad?” he breaks the silence, looking at me over his shoulder.

“No, uh,” I clear my throat. “Sorry just uhm,” I clumsily grab a new cotton pad and the alcohol, naturally spilling it a bit, embarrassed that he caught me staring. “No, it’s not too bad,” I say as I fumble with the cotton.

“Why are you so nervous all the-“ he laughs, then I push the alcohol to his cuts. “Shit! Fuck, Y/n warn me next time!” he shouts. I wince at his loud tone as all the muscles in his back tense. I pull away, tears begin to form in my eyes. The past hour has been so stressful and him raising his voice sent me over the edge. I know he didn’t mean anything by it, that I just caught him off guard, but I can’t help how my body responded.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” he quickly turns around, seemingly forgetting about the pain, bringing me into a tight hug as a couple tears roll down my cheeks. “I didn’t mean-“

“I know,” I smile up at him as he wipes the stray tear from my face. He looks so pretty, even when he’s doused in dried blood and half his face is bruised. “I’m sorry, I’m just stressed… I really need to smoke,” I sigh.

“Ditto,” he agrees, pulling away. “I’m gonna shower real quick. If you could, would you grab me the icepacks out of the freezer in the kitchen? Then I’ll bust out the bong,” he winks as he walks towards the bathroom in just his blood stained jeans. I smile and nod, then turn to walk up the steps.

•

•

After locating the ice packs, I run to my car to grab my weed. I go back inside, making my way to the steps, hearing a The Offspring cd playing as I descend into the basement. I see Warren already sitting on the couch, wearing nothing but a towel, his damp dark hair stuck to his forehead.

“Hey beautiful, what took so long?” he asks as I take a seat next to him.

“Oh, I ran out to my car to grab my bud so I could match you,” I explain as I set the jar on the table, then I hold an ice pack to his cheek. “You poor thing,” I sigh. He looks much better now that he’s cleaned up, but now I can see the wounds for what they really are.

“Come on y/n, you know I’m not gonna let you match me,” he laughs, continuing to break up the weed.

“Warren, I insist. I already feel bad enough that I got you into a fight,” I open the jar, but he snatches it out of my hand.

“No,” he says sternly, looking into my eyes. “And don’t say that. You had nothing to do with the fight, that dumbass came out swinging and disrespecting you. That’s all on him,” he says seriously. I just nod, a bit intimidated by his stern tone. He grabs the lighter and the bong handing it to me,

“Ladies first,” he winks, the mood much lighter now. He takes the icepack into his own hand so I can hit the bong. He watches me as I take a big hit. The warm smoke filling my lungs quickly. I blow the milky smoke towards the ceiling, as I sink into the couch.

“What?” I giggle when I realize that Warrens still watching me.

“You’re just so pretty, I never want to take my eyes off of you,” he smiles, setting the icepack down to take the glass out of my hand, pulling a huge hit. I see his muscles relax almost instantly.

“You’re pretty too,” I chuckle, taking one more hit. It doesn’t take long to feel the effects, I feel light but heavy at the same time; like I’m floating, but my limbs are too dense to move. This is one of my favorite feelings in the world.

“I was, until I got my face banged up,” he frowns, putting his mouth to the opening of the bong.

“I don’t think it’s a bad look,” I say honestly. “I know you’re in pain, but you do look pretty badass. It’s kinda sexy actually,” I giggle, the THC clouding my brain doesn’t allow me to keep that last thought to myself. Warrens ears perk up at the word ‘sexy’. He sets the bong down, scooching closer to me, the towel wrapped around his toned torso falls a bit, exposing his V-line and a bit of brown hair right below it. The sight makes me moan internally.

“Is that so?” he smirks, his face coming closer to me.

“Mhm,” I smile, bringing my hand up to feel his bare chest. He hovers above me as I lay heavy in between the couch cushions. “Even sexier than normal,” I smile, looking at him through lidded eyes. Warren leans down, pressing his busted lip against mine, I kiss back gently.

“I’ve missed your lips,” he smiles, resting his forehead against mine.

“Doesn’t that hurt?” I ask, cupping his uninjured cheek in my hand.

“Nah, you fixed me up real good Doc,” he chuckles. “Plus, I’m pretty stoned right now. As they say, weed’s the best medicine,” he says bringing me into another kiss. I melt completely into him; This is all I’ve craved in the two weeks it’s been since I’ve seen him last.

“I’ve missed you so much, Warren,” I admit into the kiss.

“Lay down darling, I owe you for fixin’ me up,” he says helping me turn to lay down the couch.

“Warren, you should just take it easy, baby. You’ve been through a lot,” I rub my hand up and down his arm, over his silly tattoo. He smiles at the pet name, reaching for the waistband of my pants.

“I am taking it easy, beautiful. Weed might be the best medicine, but you’re a close second,” he smirks, taking my pants and underwear off in one swoop, making my stomach flip. I’m almost ashamed of how easily I become puddy in his hands. “Mmm, so pretty,” he gently runs his hands up my thighs as I spread my legs for him, he doesn’t even have to ask. I’m always ready for him.

“Warren you really don’t have-“ he places a quick kiss on lips.

“Shh, I don’t wanna hear you speak unless you’re moaning my name, okay, beautiful,” he says gently but sternly, a small smile plastered on his face. I can’t help but giggle as excitement courses through my body. I simply nod my head ‘yes’.

He slides down my body admiring me in all my glory. He gently slides a finger over my heat, watching me intently.

“Sucha pretty girl,” he coos as he settles his head between my legs. He wraps his arms around my thighs, holding them open as he begins licking at my clit, quickly earning a moan of approval from me. He gently sticks a finger inside of me as he continues working on my nub. “Does that feel good baby,” he asks against my core.

“Mhm,” I moan out, bringing a hand to hold onto his damp hair. The amount of weed in my system amplifies the pleasure by 100. He sucks gently on my bundle of nerves as his finger pumps into me, curling perfectly.

“Fuck warren,” I pant, curling my toes, my breath becomes shallow. He continues his steady pace, the pleasure winding in my stomach begging for release. I begin grinding against his face, begging for more contact as his tongue works expertly against me. He moans against my sensitive skin, sending chills down my spine.

“Fuck fuck fuck,” I come undone, gripping hard onto his hair as my hips continue to grind into his face, covering him in my release. He pulls away proudly, licking his fingers as I try to catch my breath.

“You taste just as good as you look,” he winks making me blush. He sighs happily, before grabbing the bong, taking another hit.

“That’s all I get?” I ask as he passes me the glass. He looks at me confused. I take a quick hit- not worried about the weed, I want him inside of me. I reach over, further removing the loosely draped towel covering his torso, revealing his erection.

“I was treating you, baby,” he laughs, “but if you insist,” he lays me back down on the couch once again as he presses a gentle kiss to my lips. He gives himself a couple pumps before lining himself into me, those dark bloodshot eyes gazing into mine makes my heart skip a beat.

“Fuck, I love how you stretch me out,” I moan as he pushes into me, a proud smirk appears on his bruised face.

“You feel so good, beautiful,” he grunts, grabbing my hips as he begins to thrust in and out of me. He’s so deep; I swear I can feel him poking my stomach.

“You fuck me so good warren, faster, please,” I whine, begging for more. I’m defenseless against him, the amount of pleasure he brings me is inhuman. He obeys, fucking me faster and deeper. I wrap my legs around him as he leans down, placing a sloppy kiss to my lips. “I want you to cum in me warren,” I pant against his lips, his eyes go wide. “I’m on the pill,” I giggle. “Please Warren I want to feel you cum inside me, I’ve never let anyone else do it, please,” I beg. His eyes cloud with even more lust, something I didn’t think was possible. He groans, sitting up so he can pull my hips flush against his with every thrust. He brings one hand down to play with my bundle of nerves, I’m unable to contain my noises of pleasure, moaning out his name.

“Fuck,” he groans lowly to himself as he rocks his hips into me. “Who’s pussy is this?” he asks in a deep growl, goosebumps appear on my skin. “Y/n, who’s fucking pussy is this?” he asks again as he thrusts hard hitting my g-spot perfectly.

“Fuck!” I scream. “Yours! It’s all yours Warren,” I pant desperately, my tone that of one you’d hear in a cheesy porno. His possessiveness and the way he’s hitting the deepest parts of me mixed with the weed brings me to my second orgasm of the night.

“That’s fucking right,” he growls, grabbing my face. My walls clench around him as his powerful thrusts become sloppy. I scream out his name, euphoria enveloping me as he shoots his cum deep inside me, I’ve never experienced anything as erotic as him fucking his seed into me as it leaks out of my throbbing cunt onto his couch. Warren pulls out reluctantly, his legs visibly shaking. I lay limp in the same spot, trying to steady my breathing and stop my own legs from shaking.

“Are you okay?” he laughs helping me sit up.

“Yeah,” I giggle. “I’ve just never been fucked like-“ I stop when I see his lip gushing blood. “Warren, baby, your lips bleeding again,” I stand up quickly to find the gauze, I ignore his cum that begins to run down my thigh.

“Leave it” he waves his hand, laying back on the couch. “I feel too good to care,” he laughs. “Come lay with me,” he pats the couch. I pick up an alcohol soaked cotton pad, then sit next to him.

“Let me clean this first,” I say. He nods reluctantly, hissing as the pad hits his lip. The bleeding stops soon. “You need to put some antibacterial ointment on that. Mouth abrasions can get infected really easily,” I begin to explain.

“You should break up with your boyfriend,” he blurts out. I don’t think he was listening to anything I said. He stares at me nervously awaiting my response.

“I know I should,” I sigh, he reaches over to the coffee table handing me my phone. “What? Now?” I ask shocked. He nods his head.

“I want you to be mine, all mine. I can’t go another two weeks without seeing you, having you too busy with that douche to see me, and I sure as fuck don’t want anyone else touching you like I just did,” he pours his heart out, not dropping my gaze once. I look away, biting my lip. He’s right, as always. I belong with him; Anyone can see that.

“Well, at least wait until the morning,” I sigh looking back at him. “I mean you did just beat the shit of the guy and cum in his girlfriend, isn’t that enough for one night,” I smile lightly, not sure how he’ll feel about the idea.

“If you stay with me tonight, and do it very first thing in the morning, then I’ll agree,” he offers with a small smile. I agree, cuddling into his side. He lays a kiss on my forehead.

I should feel guilty, but I don’t, not towards Dakota at least. I feel guilty about getting Warren hurt, but my bitch ass boyfriend had it coming. I’ve finally found someone who cares about me, and I refuse to lose that, even if this is just a fling.

[writing-havoc]

HEY! HOW ARE YOU? would you be willing to make a kaz brekker x reader? if possible a soulmate au? I'm obsessed with this trope! maybe name on the wrist or the one where with just a touch of skin you see the colors? I imagine one where r is not part of the dregs but is quite indifferent/receptive to the fact that kaz is the leader of a gang. r is a seamstress, using her skills to hide that she is a fabrikator, and she (can be gn if you want!) and kaz know they are soulmates, though they never talk about it. they can even be a 'thing' secretly, and it would be adorable if they were both childhood friends. maybe before the events of SoC kaz decided to make their relationship official (with a request for courtship alá brekker or even a marriage on paper) and after CK he is even more desperate for this, wanting to protect r at all costs. oh, it would be very interesting if r had a younger sister aged 8/9 who loves kaz and vice versa since she is very quiet and obedient and loves to listen to kaz's stories. even better if he secretly called her little crow. bonus if the girl's name is astra and she is also a hidden grisha, an inferni or another etherealki i would love to see this from your point of view and with her writing it would be amazing but feel free to decline if you don't want to. Did I already say that you write very well? well then know. YOU ARE INCREDIBLY TALENTED!!!!!!

Silent tears

♡ Summary: Before the events of the ice court, Kaz feels relatively content with his feelings and relationship with you. After? Not so much.

♡ Pairing: Kaz Brekker x fem!reader

♡ Fandom: Six of Crows, Grishaverse

♡ Warning(s): Mentions vomit a few times, Gun, Death, uses yn twice

♡ WC: 5.4k

Aaaa thank you sm for this request!! Loved all the little details I had to include. It was interesting writing for a reader that wasn't part of the dregs.

Thank you for your kind words <3

I made Astra a Squallor here. And it's up to your interpretation if the reader and Kaz are dating or otherwise before the ending.

As always, please excuse any grammar and spelling mistakes

∘₊✧──────────────────✧₊∘

The sound of a sewing machine filled the small shop. It was loud, punching the table he knows it's rested on and creating a rumbling in the floor.

Gowns and suits and vests filled the racks around the store, some on display on fake bodices. They wore outfits, tantalizing window shoppers to enter and run their fingers along the fabrics.

The velveteen looked high quality, mixed with some sort of spandex fabric around the waist to hug its wearer. Pearls and lace flow across shoulders and down the side of gowns, some even including embroidery.

As he moved along, suits and gowns turns into vests and petticoats. The walls were decorated with hats of various function, most made for looks and flare rather than functionality. Behind the desk even existed a rack of long coats and various sweaters, more than likely just to fill up space than to be sold.

The sound ceased, and he rung the bell at the desk.

"Coming!" Called a voice. He stopped himself from smoothing out his own coat, in turn adjusting his gloves.

Heavy footsteps presented him with your kind figure, heels unconsciously stomping against the wood floor compared to the concrete of the backroom.

You smiled at him, picking off little strings of thread the fell into your lap and stuffing them into a pouch at your side.

"I've just finished your order." He felt just as much as he seen you change from business to something more lax, shoulders drooping and the lines between your brows disappearing. "Gimme one moment to put everything in the box- oh, would you turn the sign around, please?"

"A bit all over the place, are we?" He turned around, hearing you release a big sigh.

"Just about, it seems."

The people walking outside turned to look at the store, smiles on their faces. It was mildly amusing to watch them fall as he turned the sign, giving him a glare as he continued to stare them down. He didn't turn until they left, everyone else's eyes only flashing to the window for a moment before diverting elsewhere the second the closed sign came into view.

Window shopping is pointless when the building is closed.

"You wanted... two suits, one the shade of coal and the other a light purple, a wine red gown, a mask, and a pair of gloves?"

He turned his attention back to you, holding a rather large, yet flat, wooden crate. The inside was filled with the colors you just mentioned, a pair of leather gloves on top acting as paperweights for his order.

You set the crate down for him to look through. He removes the paper, taking the gloves into his hands and holding them out to examine.

And admire.

You aren't a leatherworker. You're a seamstress. And yet, you make the finest pair of leather gloves he has ever seen. Sometimes he'll even catch little designs marked into the gloves, the integrity of the material somehow unfazed.

"Make the slits bigger. Just two millimeters." He hands them to you.

You raise a brow, knowing that you made everything to his usual specifications.

But you take them back, entertaining him. You look at the locked door, and then raise your hand over the gloves.

Grisha power isnt super fascinating to him anymore. When he was little he would beg you to demonstrate your power, handing you pieces of worn fabric to do as you pleased with.

He would watch the thin threads thickened and the material became warped around the edges. Jordie would stand next to him, watching you solely because Kaz dragged him over every single time. You would hold out the newly mended piece of cloth, and he and his brother would clap ans rejoice.

But he still likes to watch you work. To see as your mouth opens and your tongue folds over your canines as you focused.

You give them back to him, and he inspects them once more.

"These will do." He ends up saying, appreciation left for the darker hours in the night.

You roll your eyes and rustle around with the paper held underneath your arm, fingers quickly calculating the math of the order.

Usually he doesn't do a batch of this size while he's still figuring out a job, but the way he sees it there's no way he can't have just about everybody present. Which these days is incredibly rare.

A pin is taken from the cushion on your wrist, planting itself into the red gown. But as you take out two pieces of paper, writing probably a total and your name, he can't help but stare at the ink peeking out from beneath it.

He knows what it says, just as well as he knows the name on his own.

He's seen it once as you pulled up your sleeve during the summer, the fine etching displaying his name, his old name, clear as day before you hurriedly slipped the pin cushion back onto it. He looked away that day, pretending he didn't see.

It feels so much harder to pretend now.

"This is your total. And I will need your signature on both of them, Mr. Brekker."

Your smile is playful, then. As he takes the pen from your outstretched hand.

"As I've told you before, yn, Kaz is fine."

"Oh, but how could I be so informal, Mr. Brekker?" You put your hand on your chest, face twisted into a poor impression of someone who has just been scandalized. "We are business partners, after all."

And just like in those books you always read, he feels his eyes soften, if only a bit as his brows and jaw relax. "Business partners doesn't cover the surface."

You take the confession and relax with it, rubbing the center of your chest. "You're right."

He thinks back to a time when you were both little, each staring at your blank wrist with solemn eyes. He would look at you as you rubbed the soft skin, fingertips and dirty nails gently tracing lines into it.

He would sit next to you, shoulders knocking together, and you would look up at him, expression changing as you grabbed his wrist and squeezed it.

At the time, he would never say it, the thought turning his ears pink and quickening his adolescent heart, but he would hope that your wrists would match, displaying the others name. He would hope that one day that sad and far off face would cease to exist, and instead would be full of complete and utter joy as you looked at him and exclaim that you knew it. Because you wanted him, too.

But now that he knows, he still wouldn't say anything. You never said anything, and he wasn't in any position or state of mind to say anything to you when he eventually saw his, ash sticky and cold flesh tainting the memory, your scream as you watched him swim to the harbor on Jordie's corpse, and his own as you went to grab him.

It stays locked away, with the rest of the things that feel too hard to touch.

He signs a fake name on both of them, taking one and handing the other to you for your personal records, and then takes out the kruge and hands it to you.

"Is Dirix out back to handle these or do you want a bag for them?"

He sighs. "Dirix is down at the Harbour. A bag will have to do."

"Can I pick the bag?" A new voice calls from the backroom.

He holds back a smile, but fails to stop the corner of his lips from turning up temporarily. He averts his eyes to the doorway where a little girl peeks around the corner, a wide smile on her face as she looks right at him.

"Of course, Astra." You say, and immediately she scurried up to the counter to take a look at the load she has to find a bag for.

Your younger sister, Astra, was moved up here a few years after you were, your parents having passed from the flu and grandparents too old to take on the task of raising a six year old. Much less a six year old who could summon the wind at any time she wants.

Thankfully, you had started your seamstress business a year before that, and had this store with your living space up above to take her in with.

Business was always booming here, your talent for fabrics and all things fashion put on display and loved by the masses. You spent pretty much your entire life studying the trends that wormed their way here, even getting ahead of the train numerous times and working into the darkest hours to make your profit.

Now you can afford the more pricey fabrics, and get the attention of the richer folk over in the Geldstraat.

He helps, of course, with his dirty work.

"I know the perfect one." Astra scurries away.

You chuckle, hearing a small "wow!" and a flurry of footsteps. "She's going to pick the most obnoxious bag, I hope you know."

He takes a breath then, and looks down at the gloves still in his hand. "I wouldn't expect anything less from her."

There's a moment of silence, watching you from his peripheral as you stare at the gloves too.

"I didnt like the last pair." You admit. "So I made the design more low-key. The last one was too flashy for your aesthetic."

He's wearing those gloves now, and they aren't even flashy. The design is just slightly more pronounced.

The way you measure how flashy something is has a much smaller threshold than most. Even by his standards, it's very small, and he's far from the most colorful being in Ketterdam.

Astra comes back with, of course, a large bright pink fabric bag, twine tied in the shape of a flower tied around the handles.

"Good choice!" You praise, taking the clothes out of the crate and laying them neatly in the bag while she beams at him.

"Do you like the bag?"

And normally, he'd say something incredibly passive aggressive.

But he actually likes Astra, and knows how easy it is to stamp out a child's heart, that level of emotional regulation and individuality not yet found in them.

"Its wonderful, little crow."

"Alright, give this to him, like I showed you." You pushed her along, and she rounded the counter, holding the sides of the bag, leaving the handles free for him to grab.

He'd be lying if he said he wasn't just a little moved by that.

Astra wasn't allowed to help you until a few months ago, when she basically got on her hands and knees and begged to be of some help. You claim that you didn't give in right away, but he knows you better than that.

You have told her that he doesn't like to be touched, and it was a little hard for such a touch reliant girl to wrap her mind around that. After a few close calls, she got the general idea down.

"Pleasure doing business with you." He tips his hat, and watches as her little cheeks become pink as she curtsies.

"Ill be making stew like my mom made if you want to stop by later." You suggest.

Astra grins from ear to ear. "But not too later, if you can help it. I want to hear another story."

"At this rate I won't have any stories left to tell you."

She thinks about that for a moment, lips pursing and looking around the room. "Oh!" She shouts, face lighting up. "Can you tell me that one story again? About you and my sister getting lost in the woods down south?"

He pretends to think about it, looking around the room as if in search for the memory. "I think I can do that. You and your sister might have to fill in on some of the details, though."

She grins, pride welling up in her chest that she puffs out, holding out her hand. "The deal is the deal."

He takes her hand into his, giving it a firm shake. "The deal is the deal."

Kaz takes a moment to look back up at you, and his heart nearly leaps out his chest when he sees the way you're looking at him, a small smile he doesn't think he's seen before and eyes filled with so /much/ that he's surprised your whole eye isn't black. Your head rests into your fingers, arm wrapped around your waist. It's an expression he's seen rarely, but it always seems to catch him off guard.

It looks a lot like yearning, he thinks.

But he puts it away for later.

When you catch that he's looking, you take a deep breath, schooling your expression and wiping off imaginary dust from your clothes.

"Alright Astra, Kaz has important business to attend to."

Astra pouts from beside him, but gives him her goodbyes and walks into the backroom again.

He straightens. It's oddly difficult to keep eye contact with you, but he does anyway, flicking between the both of them.

"If I have time, I'll stop by." He gives in.

You're happy with that. "Ill even add extra broth for you."

"Sweetening the offer I see."

You put your hands on your hips, shrugging. "A girl's got to do what she's got to do."

The implications of that are hefty, too hefty with a cane in one hand and a bright pink bag of clothes in the other.

So he ignores it, and nods, taking his leave out the front door and back to the Slat.

-----

He stares at the plan before him in his mind, going over each and every way this can and probably will go sideways.

Breaking into the most secure prison in probably the whole world with nothing more than the scrapings of a plan, one of the essential persons in a different prison, and your presense completely plaguing his mind.

The third one isn't exactly new, but he can't help but think about you when his survival rate went from low on the daily average to basically zero with one handshake.

But thirty million kruge...

Thirty million kruge could go a long way. That's four million for him, most of which he could put towards the crow club and expanding his empire, taking down Pekka, and securing his place as one of the top bosses in Ketterdam.

He could secure his place in the food chain, and maybe, maybe then he...

Maybe.

He entertains the thought of a marriage certificate. Having something that ties you and him together both eternally and in the eyes of everyone else. Being able to hold that slip of paper when he can't hold your hand and feeling like it matters.

It's hard to keep the thought away, now that he's alone with a glass of kvas and death staring him in the eyes.

He doesn't plan on dying soon. Not for a long time. He has vengeance to exact and many more dinners to join you for.

But it's a very real possibility, and he must debate with himself going to you and telling you all this before he leaves.

If it was any other job, Kaz would send Inej to tell you that he would be gone for a few days and to not expect him. If it was literally any other job, he wouldn't even consider getting up from his chair, marching down those stairs and up yours, and discussing the undiscussable to at least satisfy the gnawing in his stomach.

Because he knows that if you find out he died and he knew that he was basically guaranteed to do so and he didn't bother to tell you himself, you would never forgive him.

Granted, he would be dead, so in theory it doesn't matter.

He picks up his cane and gloves, shoving them over his hands and throwing on his long coat. He doesn't even have to look at the coat rack to find his hat, putting it on and making his way out of the Slat and to your address without a word to anyone else.

The theories mean nothing, in the face of reality.

You're making stew with extra broth, he might die in a few days, and he doesn't want you to think ill of him when he can't look you in the eye and try to convince you to feel otherwise.

As the cold bites his nose, he thinks back to that look you were giving him when he made that deal with your sister.

It's nearly enough to make him turn around, muscles tingling and a shiver rolling down his back that's unrelated to the cold. He feels sick. Warm and a feeling in his stomach he only feels late in the night in the comfort of his own bed.

He can't do this.

He picks the lock on your door.

He can't tell you.

He opens the door, locking it behind him.

He can't think of you like that.

He walks up the stairs, the smell of stew just barely reaching his senses as he enters the kitchen.

He can't.

You're sitting at the table, two empty bowls on the table and fabric thrown over your legs, threading them together. Your finger is bleeding, and he wants to wipe it away.

"You're late." You smile, eyelids heavy.

He takes off his hat, putting it on the hook you installed when he started coming over. "Or I'm just in time."

You laugh quietly, sticking the needle in the fabric and pulling it off your lap. "Just in time about sums it up."

He's a monster.

You turn your back to him and enter your room, draping the project on your desk.

The pot is still steaming, and his throat feels clogged.

"Ill be gone for a while."

You turn around, and he can't watch you anymore. He takes off his coat and drapes it over the chair.

"How long?" Your voice is soft, approaching him.

"Few weeks."

He's a coward.

You hum, setting down a bowl of stew with extra broth in front of him. "Thats a long time, even for you."

He clenched his jaw, heart pounding in his ears. The light catches the stew, making rainbows in the broth. Chunks of lamb, potatoes, pieces of ham, carrots, and greens he can't see dance in the soup as he stirs it.

"Bigger reward for the troubles." Is all he says.

The troubles, he thinks, that he can't get past the lump in his throat. The trouble that you of all people deserve to know.

He glances up at you, and he recognizes the look on your face all too well.

You're very aware of his gang affiliation.

He actually attempted to cut ties with you after he got associated with the Dregs. You threw a crate at him and called him mad for suggesting as such. He only risked to bring it up one other time, and you had yelled at him and about cried when he turned to leave, throwing a rock at his freshly poorly healed leg.

He swiveled around at glared at you, but you didn't flinch in the face of Dirtyhands. Just glared at him, told him you're not going anywhere, and then left /him/ before he could protest.

It took him a week to figure out that, despite you not wanting to cut ties with him, you didn't completely agree either. You didn't bother trying to convince him to leave, but you have on numerous occasions begged him to be careful, adorning this exhausted look.

You don't say a lot anymore, but the expression has stayed relatively the same, if a bit rounder on the edges.

"How bad?" You asked.

He abhors the way his heart squeezes, like it has a mind of its own while his brain yells at him to keep you out of it.

He wants to throw up.

How does he tell you there's a greater chance than not he'll die, now matter how much he wants to make it back to you?

How does he tell you you might never get to see him again? Or see Jesper or Inej?

He swallowed some broth, licking his lips.

"Pretty bad."

He's such a fucking coward.

"Ynnn." He hears a hoarse voice call. He looks up, seeing Astra stroll in and rest her chin on the kitchen table. "You didnt tell me Kaz finally came."

When he looks at you to see your response, its to his absolute horror that he catches you wiping your eyes, then pull your little sister to your side.

"You were sleeping. I didn't want to wake you."

"M'you should've."

You glance up at him, and smile against Astra's hair.

"You're right. I should've."

-----

'Damn it all,' he thought in a panic. 'Damn everything. Go find them.'

It was a dangerous, recurring thought that he had when he went anywhere near the Zelver District, whenever he had to go through the canals that run along its edge and connect to nearly every other canal.

Even now as he puts everything in place to send Kuwei off on a fake bodyboat. It only half surprises him that the sight doesn't make him all that uncomfortable. He's exhausted, lovesick, and has had the experience of several lifetimes within just a few weeks.

He wanted to send word to you to stay put during the alarms. But Pekka's crew strolled through your storefront not a few days ago, asking about your wares and probing for information. Inej had seen as such when she finally had the opportunity to check on you.

There was no guarantee that this plan would work. Pekka would have been dealt with regardless but the auction with Kuwei could have gone differently. No matter the confidence with which he laid out facts or with Wylan's newfound acting skills, there were too many variables that relied heavily on the actions of people outside his control.

It worked out, though. But now he has to worry about being unable to find you. It makes him nauseous. He actually feels his mouth begin to fill with saliva, but he keeps it down. Right now, he just has to get rid of Kuwei, and send off Colm, Nina, and Matthias to the boats that will take them to their respective countries.

A small part of his conscious nags at him. Of course he feels grief for his fallen Crow, incomparable to the grief Nina will have to face for the rest of her life.

But there's that much larger part of him that can't feel anything except the itching for your eyes on him.

Kaz makes a snarky comment about Kuwei's dead position, and leaves everyone to fill in the silence around him. There isn't much talking, aside from Jesper and his father, and then they're hugging and parting.

He hardly has it in him to stay while they leave, and eventually, before they even disappear from his eyesight, he's turning and marching up the Van Eck lawn towards the Zelver District.

He feels like he's going insane. Energy is surging through him like there's a heartrender pumping his system. When everything becomes familiar, that coffee shop you like with the Stroopwafel's coming into view, he can't help but break out into a run.

His leg feels like it may splinter.

But he's 4 million kruge richer, and he has something to ask you.

He's learned a lot, quite a bit of it against his will, since he left for Fjerda.

He will not let you become another life lesson.

Your door comes into view, and he nearly slams into it when his legs can't seem to stop and one of them is straining against his own body weight.

The lock picks nearly fell to the floor before he manages to unlock the store. He didn't even let the door close behind him before he rocketed up the stairs, taking them two at a time.

You were at the top, rifle in hand, pointing it at him with a fierceness in your eyes.

It all but crumbled when you seen who he was.

"Kaz?" You called, disbelief choking your words.

It takes a moment for him to catch his breath, most of his gasping done before he unlocked the door. But again, hes exhausted and lovesick, so air isnt really a luxury he seems to be able to afford. "The bruises don't make me that unrecognizable." He stands straighter, favoring his left leg.

You had half the mind to put the rifle on your kitchen table before you completely broke down in tears. Your arms hug your sides while your eyes boil over with tears and hot rage.

"You're such an asshole!" You yelled. "Getting put on the Stadwatch and the entire barrels shitlist? What the fuck kind of job did you take?"

He stepped forward, setting his cane next to your rifle and dropping into the chair next to you.

It still made his skin crawl. It still made his lungs burn with freezing cold water. It still made deadly blue hands grip at his legs and pull him under.

But he reached out, pulled you between his legs, and hugged your body to his, his cheek resting against your stomach.

You were warm. So very warm from working yourself up. And stiff. He could feel it under his arms as your thighs stuck together and the muscles surrounding your spine tightened into stone.

"Ka-Kaz?"

He ignored you in favor of ignoring his own body, tightening you into him as the waters punched his stomach and licked up his back.

You were warm, and as you relaxed, his face further sinking into your stomach, the water began to still. Still crushing against his organs, but not going any further.

Tears pushed on the back of his eyes. He squeezed them shut, taking in a shakey breath.

He was doing it. He was holding you, touching you, and it only made half his mind scream to be yanked away.

"I fought." He whispered. "I fought to come back." He swallows. "To you."

Tears thumped against the crown of his skull. He could hear your heart pounding despite its location.

"You left-" Your voice cut off in a squeak. Clearing your throat, he could feel, felt like a chore. "You left. And then you didn't come back. Your face was all over Ketterdam, and I didn't know what to do. I couldn't eat I couldn't sleep- I couldn't answer Astra's questions because I didn't know anything-"

"I was tricked." He gritted his teeth, loosening his grip on you just as you reached down and dragged your fingers over his shoulder, fixing a loose thread. "Deceived, and made a complete fool out of. I couldn't come back because they would have got you too."

Your fingers stopped. "Who did they get?"

A few tears leaked out the side of his eyes. The only tears, he decided, he was going to allow through. He was not a crier. And he had no intention of becoming one.

"Inej." You gasped, hand flying away from his head to cover your mouth, he would presume. "Which is why I couldn't get word to you. Why you had to remain in the dark."

He pulled back, looking up at your tear stained face. You wiped them away, sniffing up any snot that remained in your nose and cleared your throat.

For a while you didn't speak. You just stared at him. His hands had fallen to his knees, fingers barely touching your leg while your own held your elbows.

You were deep in thought. Occasionally a silent tear would work it's way down your cheek and tick against the floor. He remained still, watching as you worked your way through your thoughts.

Whatever you had to say, you were fighting for a better way to word it.

Eventually you reached out, swallowing as you searched for any indication he would retreat.

Instead he stared you head on, sweat building on brow. He was all touched out at the moment, but you wanted this. And he thinks it's the least you deserved after the complete emotional shipwreck he just put you through.

Your thumb brushed over his bruises, watching him wince when you accidentally pushed on them.

Scabs had begun to form over some of the wounds he refused to be healed. Two thin lines on his lips, one on his cheek, and one to his brow. You went over all of them, touching his lips last.

He thinks you meant to do that.

"If I had known this would be my fate when I saw my name on your wrist when we were children," you whispered, "I'd have slapped you stupid."

That makes his lips twitch. "And now?"

You swallow again, carefully brushing his hair away from his forehead so that your nails barely scratched the surface. "Now, I just want to look at you." You smiled, taking your hand back. "Somebody's already slapped you stupid for me."

"Believe me, there was no slapping."

The words make your smile disappear. He regrets saying them.

Somethings missing though, and he realizes it a lot later than he likes.

"Where's Astra?"

You smile, an airy breath escaping your nose. "She went down about half an hour before you stormed in here."

"You didn't send her off to your grandparents when the sirens went off?"

You scoffed. "And go where you couldn't find us?" You looked down, scuffing the floor with your sock covered feet. "You'd have lost your mind."

And that, you knowing him so intrinsically, is what he's going to use as an excuse for what he says next.

"Marry me."

It's so unlike him. He should have been less forward about it. Presented it to you like a business offer instead of demanding it of you.

Your head snaps up. Eyes wide as they stare at him.

"What?"

He scoots back, chair scraping across the floor as he stands.

"I do not present this to you lightly. After the events that have taken place, there will only be more people willing to tear me down. People who will want to use you to get to me."

The thought almost makes him want to back out. But if Kaz Brekker is anything, he is not someone who back tracks.

"It would be done in private. No one would know but the Dregs, or only the Crows, and your family. But if anybody does any digging and finds that certificate, you and Astra would be in danger."

You continue to stare, eyes still wide and mouth agape.

Sweat beads down his back, not helped by the long coat he neglected to take off. He also realizes that he's lost his hat somewhere on the way here, probably flown off in his rush to get here.

You close your mouth, clearing your throat. "I will marry you, Kaz, on one condition."

He shifts on his feet, leg still horribly sore. "That is?"

You cant help but smile. "I won't have to wear white."

And a giddy, childish sort of glee bubbles in his chest. There isn't anything, he thinks, that could have stopped the smile forming in his face, growing so wide as to show teeth. "You could wear the muckiest yellow the nation as to offer if you so wished."

Your nose scrunches, and one day he thinks he could kiss it.

"Astra will want to hear about your adventure." He could see your exhaustion from just thinking about that, your gaze averting once again to her door. "She'll be so excited to hear about your proposal too."

He follows your gaze, seeing the little drawing nailed to surface of her door.

One of them shows you and him with smiling faces, a little heart above your heads. You're holding hands, Kaz's gloves a distinct part of the portrait, with Astra above, clouds and a sun at the top of the page.

"Little crow will blow the entire building apart." He grimaces, thinking of a way to cover that up if the neighboring businesses hear it.

You sigh. "I have no idea what to do with her."

He turns back to you and leans forward, arms clasped behind his back as he presses his lips to your temple.

It didn't feel real, the way he could initiate touch despite his body screaming at him to stop. Your hair stuck to his lips as he pulled away, but it was worth it to see the way your face fell open, eyes boaring into his.

Silently, he tells you he'll get better. With time, a long time, he'll be able to hold your hand, kiss your lips, stand shoulder to shoulder and lay with you. He tells you that fleeting kisses and barriers will be a thing reserved for bad days only, and even on those bad days he'll still love you in other ways.

He thinks you understand.

∘₊✧──────────────────✧₊∘

Tags:

@b3kk3r-by-br3kk3r @a-candle-maker

[lazyalani]

| Itoshi Sae × [GN!Reader]

| those ocean eyes

| angst, sae's point of view, short, hurt/no comfort, no happy ending

| Summary: Sae sits down and tries to remember why, how, and where the so called ending began.

| Main Masterlist

| Blue Lock Masterlist

burning cities and napalm skies

It happened in the heat of the moment really. It wasn't supposed to go that far. Despite what other people may think, you and Sae don't really argue hard because you know when to stop.

But where did it go wrong?

Maybe it was your fault, maybe it was his fault. Or maybe it was both of your faults, but it doesn't matter. What matters is that he's currently drowning in his own sorrows because he couldn't control his emotions again. Just like that one snowy night with Rin— He sucks in a breath. No. He wasn't going to go back that far.

His mind is in shambles. Would he go as far as to chase you even if half a week has already passed? He probably would, he thinks. If only he had the courage to do exactly that.

But he doesn't.

So let him drown himself into self-blame and doubt.

fifteen flares inside those ocean eyes

He couldn't. He knows he can't face you. He doesn't have the courage to face you when he every second in his mind he only sees your tear drowned face. Your helpless eyes begging him to take back the things he said, begging him to fix it, to tell you you both will be fine.

But he's Itoshi Sae.

And Itoshi Sae is a stubborn, calm yet egoistic, prideful man who when he snaps, it's all over.

He didn't know where or how it started. All he knew was that this one certain comment of yours triggered his pent up stress over dumb fucks in practice and annoying managers and exhaustion and he just— snapped. He couldn't stop himself nor could he even realize what he was saying.

He never even thought of his words. His mind was blank, he could barely remember anythi—

"—and these worthless plans and trinkets you give and talk to me. What thing of value do you even do at this point?"

no fair

Your head shooked as your hands trembled, your lips were shaking. Your eyes filled with tears and practically begging him to stop talking but he couldn't think.

"These demands you make to me, what makes you think they even matter to me? What makes you think I even care?"

Sae clenches his teeth and clutches his head. It hurts, his head hurts.... and somewhere in his chest.

He refuses to acknowledge the memory. Make it stop. Stop playing that hing in his head. Stop making him see things. Stop making it seem like you left him—

And then it clicks.

It was like every cog in his head has stopped and finished process.

That night. That arguement. The last time he saw you. The ring— where was the ring?

He lifted his head in a hurry and looked around the empty room. It had somehow seemed emptier.

He sees the familiar ring on a table. It was the ring he gave to you as a promise. A promise of forever.

But why was it here again?

"—you care about these useless things instead of doing things that actually make sense. How about you start doing useful things for a change? So you won't be ashamed of showing that ring just to add that you do nothing but cling to me with those useless plans."

You froze as he mentioned your ring. You instantly touched the ring hanging on the chain around your neck.

"S-sae, not the ring, p-please—"

"I'm surprised you still even have the courage to wear that thing."

You shooked your head desperately.

This was the only thing hanging your relationship on the single, thin thread right now.

"Are you even worth giving that ring?"

you really know how to make me cry

His knees almost stumbled and he clutched the ring and his head in pain.

He sits on the bed for support as your helpless face strikes through his heart again.

when you gimme those ocean eyes

He remembers it all.

His cold, thoughtless words.

His mindless, heartless eyes.

The dead, scaryly calm look on his face and words.

And the frightened, hurt look on yours.

i'm scared

He sighs and chuckles lifelessly.

He only ever knows to destroy the most precious things in his life, huh?

But among all his treasures, you were the one who had made him shatter with you.

Itoshi Sae always got everything he wanted. He had always maintained and sustained everything he's got because of his natural talent and potential. His brains and looks.

Itoshi Sae has never lost anything. He has never fallen from his glory.

But hah, how could he have the courage to even say that now?

i've never fallen from quite this high

[skeletorrito]

another little snippet from my cutesy, fluffy satosugu fic <3

 Satoru comically scooted himself down the length of the bench until he was resting his head on Suguru’s thigh. “Play with my hair while I nap,” he requested in a murmur. 

Suguru laughed, shooting an incredulous look at his friend. “Are you joking?” Satoru peered up at Suguru over his sunglasses. Oh, no, he’s serious. Suguru started, carefully, “Satoru… isn’t that a little-” 

“What, best friends can’t play with each other’s hair?” Satoru defended, a small flush spreading across his cheeks, “We clearly need some rest and we’ve got time to kill before we ride back.” 

Satoru flashed his big, blue, puppy-dog eyes, not that Suguru needed much convincing anyway, and Suguru sighed. “Fine, fine. Such a princess…” he muttered. He gingerly threaded his fingers into Satoru’s fluffy, snowy white hair, so soft and thick.

Satoru was immediately transported back to his childhood when his many nannies would stroke his hair to coax him to sleep. It was so soothing and nostalgic to feel Suguru pet his head like this. “Just gimme like… fifteen minutes, okay?” He said with a hum, eyes closing contentedly as Suguru’s fingers grazed his scalp. Satoru was out in a matter of minutes, easily slipping into slumber on his trusted friend’s lap.

Suguru could have easily spent hours like this, spending an equal amount of time watching Satoru sleep peacefully and admiring the vast temple they were in. As he mindlessly stroked, he finally had a chance to take a good look around. Even with the rubble and destruction, it was gorgeous. The walls stretched on and on, accented with rich reds and glinting gold murals of Siddhartha Gautama and his journey to enlightenment. Miraculously, the giant, gold Buddha statue still stood tall behind the collapsed wall. He closed his eyes, focusing on steadying his breath and nothing else in the world besides his hand in Satoru Gojo's hair.

Satoru finally stirred from his slumber nearly an hour later. Suguru was still in the same position as before, losing track of time as he meditated with his fingers in Satoru’s hair. Satoru let out a big yawn, sitting up and stretching. “Damn, I needed that. How long was I out?” 

“An hour, I think.”

“An hour!? You could have woke me up! What the hell were you doing for an hour?” 

Suguru shrugged, “Meditating.” Satoru gave him a deadpan expression. “Oh, I got rid of Ichiji, too. He thinks we’re taking the train home tonight,” he added, smirking. To avoid raising suspicion, Suguru called Ichiji not long after Satoru fell asleep to sweet-talk him into leaving. According to Suguru, they were going to “sight-see” in the area since the mission wrapped up so quickly and they’d take the train back to Tokyo tonight. Ichiji bought this lie immediately and reported back to the academy. Suguru’s curse manipulation technique always fell second to his ability to talk himself out of a situation, his charisma and charm its own jujutsu entirely. 

Satoru laughed and smiled, “Nice! Now we have the whole day to chill.” He turned towards his teammate. “Alright, Suguru, it’s your turn.” 

“Huh?”

Satoru patted his lap as he clarified, “I’m not greedy, I’ll return the favor.” 

Suguru eyebrows knitted together. “I don’t really nap well, you know that.” Though he’d be lying if he said didn’t think about Satoru stroking his hair. 

“Well, that’s because you’ve never had Satoru Gojo playing with your hair. C’mon, just lay down. If you fall asleep, awesome, and if you don’t, you still get to relax.” 

Suguru smiled, conceding and resting his head on Satoru’s thigh. He blushed, his gaze resting on the temple ceiling. Were his daydreams of romantic moments, such as these, with Satoru Gojo finally coming to fruition? His shallow crush only deepened over the time they grew close, but never once did he expect it could be reciprocated. 

At least, not until today. 

“It sounds like you just want an excuse to play with my hair,” he teased. 

“Well, you do have great hair, Suguru,” Satoru replied with a grin as he pulled the elastic from Suguru’s bun, allowing his charcoal hair to spill onto Satoru’s lap. “It’s getting long!” He pulled his fingers through to splay its full length. 

Suguru’s eyes fluttered closed as he commented, “Thank you. I’m letting it grow out.” Satoru wasn’t lying, it was extremely soothing having Satoru run his fingers through his hair. He fell silent, a small smile spreading across his face. 

It had been over a year of Satoru secretly longing to touch Suguru’s hair again. The time Suguru spent the night in his dorm, and his curiosity got the better of him, nearly changed his life. He couldn’t stop obsessing over it, his fingers itching every time he saw Suguru fix his bun. It was still so silky and beautiful as it fell through his fingers. For having such an excitable personality, he had a surprisingly gentle touch as he caressed Suguru’s locks.

“I admit, this is nice…” Suguru practically purred, sighing happily. He was definitely growing sleepy, allowing himself to let go and lean into the feeling of Satoru playing with his hair. 

“See? Now go to sleep.” 

Suguru did end up drifting off, but only for about thirty minutes. He awoke to two luminescent, ocean eyes staring right at him and jolted. “Jeez, Satoru, you scared the shit out of me.” He moved to sit up, but Satoru’s fingers were still tightly entwined in his hair. 

“Oh, sorry,” Satoru replied sheepishly, flushing and looking away. He pulled his hand back quickly so his friend could get up. 

Suguru stood and stretched his arms and back. He felt better, a lot better actually, his energy replenished. “I guess we can go, I can summon the- hey, where’s my hair tie?”

“Oh I lost it, sorry.” 

He lied. It was in Satoru’s pocket.

Suguru squinted at him, giving him a scrutinizing look. “You’re lying.” 

“Swear I’m not.” Satoru lifted his hands as if he was being interrogated by the police. 

“Guess we need to call Ichiji, then…” Suguru started with a mock sad tone, pouting and grabbing his phone from his pocket. “It’s not safe to fly with hair in my face.” He opened the phone, his thumb over the call button. 

Satoru groaned and rolled his eyes, shoving a hand in his pocket. “Oh, look at that, I found it. Oops, my bad,” he said sarcastically and flicked it over to Suguru. 

Suguru rolled his eyes back, muttering “Idiot” under his breath, and quickly tied his hair up in a tight bun. He strolled outside of the temple to find an open space to summon his new curse and Satoru trailed along. 

Thanks for reading! :-) Be sure to read the rest of the fic here:

[bravo4iscool]

Okay but what if we had designer!reader and model!ghost?????? Love your writing ❤️

first of: THANK YOU SO MUCH!! and second of: HOW DO Y’ALL COME UP WITH THOSE COOL IDEAS???

but your wish is my command hehe…

i think model!ghost would be kinda hard to work with, y’know? always demanding perfection but barely speaking; his gaze hard and judging (🤭😨).

but—here comes the but—designer!reader meets exactly that!

seconds before he’s supposed to be on the runway they be like: “simon, no; come back! i need to change this!” and then they’ll stitch and maybe cut around on his outfit like a madman.

at first he’s confused and irritated; he’s never worked with someone that met his standard; so he’s very distant when they first meet but when he realizes he and reader are quite the same he starts to warm up.

“d’nt y’think we could change this up a bit?” he mumbles, looking down ag himself, frowning. “the sleeves look a bit-“ before he can finish reader is already standing in front of him, fumbling with the sleeves of his suit.

“yeah, you’re right. they look too loose.” they pause for a second before they hurry over to their desk to get the supplies. “gimme just a second and i’ll fix it,” they promise.

“y’stressin’ t’much,” he calmly retorts one day when reader once again fusses over him last minute.

“you demand perfection,” they only mumble a hurried reply, fixing a loose thread. “at least that’s what i’ve been told.” they’re so focused on their job that they don’t notice ghost’s eyes widen.

“y’perfection. why would i demand more?” he then asks, looking down at reader; just in moment to see them halt and blush. “y’stressin’ t’much,” he says again, this time much calmer.

he lifts his arms to carefully push reader away. “the fit’s good. y’did good work. why fussin’ all over me?” he tilts his head, slightly smiling.

reader just takes a deep breath and sighs. “i’ve been warned about you when i first started working with you…” they avoid his gaze. “they told me i wouldn’t last two days because you’re so…harsh on the designers you work with. that’s why i’m fussing over you the whole time. i don’t want to disappoint you, okay?”

ghost quietly nods along, his eyes searching for readers. “y’d’nt disappoint me,” he says, his voice deep and calm, almost soothing to readers heart. “y’perfect, i couldn’t ask f’r anyone better than you.”

“now, that’s a lie,” they laugh but ghost just cups their face and makes them look at him.

“would i ever lie t’you?” reader shakes their head, gulping. “that’s right. i mean what i say.” his eyes are piercing through reader and they feel like he’s staring straight into their soul…

“now y’ll sit down ‘nd relax while i run that silly show.” he guides then towards the little couch in his dressing room, gently pushing them down. “‘nh when i’m done we’ll get s’me food. understand?”

reader only nods again, completely at a loss of words. they’ve never been taken care of like right now…

they shouldn’t get used to it. but…maybe they want to…

(masterlist | part 2)

REQUESTS/ASKS OPEN!!!

[earthpleasures]

OCEAN EYES !

Steve Rogers x fem!wife!avenger!reader

Summary: ever since downfall of Avengers, your marriage was in shambles. A certain event ripped off the final thread between you and Steve. However, can you be mended?

Warnings: ANGST / swearing, misunderstandings, poor communication, miscarriage, slight alcoholism, self harm, nightmares, reader and steve love each other but they're stupid.

Word Count: 1.4k

Note: events take place three months after 'avengers: infinity war'.

dividers by: @benkeibear

"you really know how to make me cry

when you gimme those ocean eyes"

- ocean eyes by billie eilish.

The night was cold, the wind blowing through the open windows of the house. Ghosts of last year remained inside the walls as Steve feared. With a grunt, he rubbed his face. Even with all the breeze, he was sweating. Damned nightmares.

His hand involuntarily reached to the other side of the sheets, searching for that familiar warmth. Her side of the bed was cold, she must have been up for long enough. He sat up and threw the black duvet off his body. No matter how many times they tried to sleep with windows closed, neither of them could blink. Past haunted present.

Balcony door was ajar, choked sobs being heard from there. He sighed as he stood up and took her cardigan off the nightstand. His steps were heavy, unsure of how to trespass walls she created around them. It's been a long time since they had a proper conversation.

Taking a deep, cold breath into his lungs, he pushed the ajar door, meeting a similar image. Her knees were pulled against her chest on the couch, her cheek pressing against them. An empty bottle of whiskey stood unashamed next to her. He scrunched his nose. Smell of whiskey wasn't the best, especially when it came to his wife.

Tears kept rolling down her cheeks, moonlight illuminating her tired face. Dried tears have been replaced with new, wet ones. She was so drawn to her world of ruins that Steve's footsteps didn't even alert her senses. He cleaned his throat to make his presence known, earning a slow headlift from her. Her swollen eyes were all red from crying.

"What did we talk about drinking at late hours?" He couldn't help but be wary of her behavior. Avengers were his world, but when his world fell into void, all left was ruins. Ruins of his life and marriage. Once an inseparable couple, now barely spoke to each other besides arguing.

"Go to sleep, Steve. It's a late hour to argue." After hours of silence, her voice came out hoarse. A few coughs helped her to clean her throat. "I don't need your pity." She said with the pain-filled undertone in her voice, something only Steve would hear.

"You don't need my pity, Y/n. You need me." His words only fueled the anger that crept her features. "Oh, really Captain? Where were you when I fell into hell in that hospital? Let me tell you, you were in another country, trying your best to avoid me. Maybe you even wished for me to perish." Her drunk words stung like venomous needles, making Steve fix his stance.

"I didn't escape from you. We were on a mission and-"

"AND WHAT? ARE THE FUCKING MISSIONS MORE IMPORTANT THAN YOUR WIFE?" Her sudden outburst caused Steve to frown. "It's nothing like that, you're being dramatic right now." A sarcastic laugh escaped her throat. "Dramatic? I lost my baby, Steve. I didn't even get to hold my child before I lost her. And to remind you, she was your daughter too."

Moments of silence went on and went on. Neither of them spoke, no one taking a step to lower the barriers between them. When she buried her head to her knees, Steve remembered the soft cardigan he was holding from the very beginning of their argument. He bit his lips, not wanting to say one more word to her. Throwing the soft fabric on the table next to her, he slammed the door behind him and went to bed.

Now his side of the bed was cold too.

She was running, running, and running again. Brown-haired boy smiled at her from a distance, waving his hand cluelessly. He wasn't aware of the danger waiting for him. "Peter! Peter!" Her own screams were ripping her skin. Boy didn't react to her agony or cries.

When she finally reached her destination, her body fell to the floor. Before she could reach him, smile on his face dusted away. Gray dusts flowed through her fingers.

"Y/n, wake up!" The sudden shock of being shaken made her open her eyes. Steve's worried face was in front of him. Everything was a nightmare again. Universe kept rubbing the fact she couldn't protect the kid to her face. She let him kiss her forehead and press her against his warm chest. Throughout everything that happened, every fight occurred between them, he was still her safe space, the only place she could walk into with her eyes closed. "It's okay, I am here... I am here..." The whispers against her hair began to show their effects, smoothing the fast beating of her heart.

She clumsily threw her robe over her back and wore her slippers, making her way to the bathroom. A bath was what she needed most at this time. Looking into those blue eyes she once loved so much was now nothing short of torture. Of course, Steve didn't blame her for The Snap. However, a part of her dusted away with all of the people disappeared. Whenever she looked into his eyes, failure looked back at her.

She slowly took off her robe and pajama. The process made her hiss in actual pain, fabric rutting against wounds left from her last panic attack. She didn't know why or how, her hands always found their way to her belly when she had one of her attacks, itching to feel her baby again. The baby she never achieved to embrace.

Her fingers traced shapes on the scars, scratches and stitch marks all over her stomach. Running faucet filled the bathtub with hot water. She didn't mind the burns on her skin, stepping into the vapors. Her skin writhed, as she sank into the water, scratches burned and itched. She laid her head back on cold tiles. Punishment was a given for failed ones, she deserved this.

“Y/n, I am- oh god!” Steve's panicked voice tore her thoughts away. His rushed steps were what she focused on. Strong arms pulled her out of the water. After coming out of hot water, her body shivered with cold air caressing her. “What the hell were you doing!?” Steve exclaimed as he turned the cold water on, easing the hot sensation.

Scratches on her body gained his attention. “Y/n. What are these?” Ah, one more failure. Steve finally discovered the scratches. “Nothing.” Her tone stood neutral, not giving away anything.

“Look at my eyes. Are you harming yourself?” She shook her head to say no. But Steve wasn't stupid and he knew his wife well enough to understand when she lied to him. “Love… You should've told me.” After months of separation, and emotional distance, the goddamn wall finally cracked. Maybe that was what was needed in their relationship. Fear of losing.

Her arms wrapped around his shoulders as she buried her face in the crook of his neck. The world was finally spinning on her way. Steve cupped her cheeks gently. “Look at me, darling. No matter what happens between us, you're still my wife. I am still your husband. Come to me, because in this world, only we can mend each other.” Her lips trembled as tears began to fill her eyes.

“I am sorry, Steve. For not listening to you, for bursting out of nowhere. You are right. We have only each other left.” He nodded as his thumb brushed her cheek, wiping the tears away. He hooked his arms under her waist and knees, picking her up.

After laying her down, he opened their emergency drawer and took out the burn cream. With slow motions, he circled the cream on the red pitches of her skin. “I know you don't think I cared about our daughter, but I did. As much as you did. Sleepless nights held me captive after losing her. I couldn't come to the hospital because I had no way back.” He kissed her knees, fingers massaging her thighs as if he tended to heal her. “I am so sorry, my love. I shouldn't have left you in the dark alone. I should've stood next to you.”

She looked at his eyes. The very ocean blues she loved. She still loved them. They were not at a point of no return. Her smile was real this time, not an effort to push him away. “We can fix everything and start all over again, right?” He closed her eyes and kissed her softly, it made her feel loved. “Yes, yes we can.”

©2024 earthpleasures do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[hey-august]

time for some fem!buggy x GN!reader 🤤

Word count: ~770 Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, fem!buggy x GN!reader, buggy is afab, no use of Y/N, vaginal fingering, lil bit of chop chop but not a misuse of powers, multiple orgasms.

you wake up with the softest pillow caressing your face. tits. plump, plush tits, covered by fabric thinner than sun rays. you drag a hand up to rest on a soft mound while nuzzling the other one. a gentle, content sigh emanates from a different part of the bed, from your companion who is literally sprawled out. 

hardening nipples encourage you to loll out a tongue and seek out the nearest pebble, which you find easily and bathe in kisses, nips, and licks. you pull away and blow on the spit-soaked fabric, adding to the cooling sensation. your other hand, which had been busy groping, squeezing, and jiggling, tilts the supple flesh so you can greet the other nipple. sliding up the cloth barrier, you suck the sensitive bud into your mouth and replace the tickle of fabric with swipes of your tongue.

“nnh, m-more,” breathes buggy. her voice is slow, lazy, and horny.

you reach down and find nothing. the portion of body next to you abruptly ends at the ribcage. extending your search, you find more - a ticklish ankle, a shoulder to rub, a warm wrist - but not what you’re looking for. releasing buggy’s nipple from it’s warm moist prison, you lift your head just enough to find your treasure.

stretching your arm out, you hook a finger into a waistband and drag the pink panty-clad ass closer. buggy whines at the movement, but she does nothing to help. you reward the lack of effort with a smack, enjoying how her ass bounces under your hand, before rolling her hips over.

“you’re soaked through,” you say excitedly while sliding your fingers along the wet fabric covering the lush folds. “you needy thing, you like this?”

buggy bucks her hips against your touch, wanting more contact, more friction. “j-just give it, please”

you chuckle and carefully tap her sensitive clit, which receives a delicious whimper in response, before slipping your hand into her panties. the slick-coated fabric is cold against the back of your hand, so you seek out buggy’s luscious heat. she moans as your middle and ring fingers slide in her weeping cunt. you thrust and scissor, manipulating her entrance and depths, before pressing into the spongy rigid spot that makes her unseen toes curl.

a disembodied hand presses buggy’s breasts towards your face for more kisses and sloppy attention, which you gladly provide. you slurp, suck, and nibble, earning sweet moans and squeals of ecstasy. your hot breath tickles buggy’s skin as you move locations, changing from soft skin to hard nipples, from one heavy breast to the other.

“m’close” the shake in buggy’s voice matches the tremor in her body.

groaning excitedly, you rub your thumb along her swollen clit. swirling circles and harsh pressure that explodes within her spread out body.

“o-oh fuck!” cries buggy as the climax courses through her disconnected body, before tethering it back together. 

in an instant, her body is whole. thick thighs clamp around your hand as she grinds into the orgasm. arms wrap around your head, pressing your face into her chest. her body trembling and shaking as you continue your assault inside and on her sensitive clit.

“one more,” you beg between her tits, “gimme one more”

buggy meekly shakes her head above yours while spreading her legs, a coy act she likes to put on in these moments. “mmmh, one more,” she repeats.

you squeeze your hand against buggy, palm pressing onto her mound and surrounding the hidden bud with pressure that feels good but won’t get her anywhere. she whines and wiggles under your touch. biting back a grin, you harshly suck on a forlorn nipple and slip your pointer finger inside buggy’s heat, nestling it with the other two.

buggy threads her own fingers in your hair, pressing herself ever harder into you. craving your touch, your being. you. dusting kisses up the swell of her breasts and along her neck, you arrive at her parted lips.

her red nose is pressed against your cheek as you greedily drink her moans and cries of joy from her coil quickly retightening. a coil that is just as quickly snapped when you draw shapes on her aching clit. first a circle, then a triangle, but it’s the messy shaky heart that she cums to. bucking against your hand, sliding from how much slick her pussy has gushed.

finally, her body stills against yours. her sweet sounds get quieter, eventually becoming heavy breaths. you pull out of her heat but leave your hand nested against her body.

“g’morning,” you mumble against her lips, watching buggy's ocean eyes flutter open.

“morning,” she sighs back.

[snzhrchy]

ohhh gimme angst pls

readers into ajax & basically everybody knows (even ajax himself). one day she comes into his room (wednesday, xavier by her side), excited to show him something & catches ajax & enid kissing. (now ik enid would never betray someone like that but let’s just pretend)

& now it’s kinda like this scene in euphoria but not exactly. readers crying while ajax & enid try to “explain“ themselves. „wtf enid.. you know i feel about him..“ & enid just looks down in shame while ajax stands up to get to her but xavier try’s to stop him. reader walks out furiously & they all follow her.

„y/n wait!“ enid‘s walking up to her & y/n pushes her back with her telekinetic powers so she almost falls. „i would’ve never done this to you.. never..“ while looking at enid. „i thought you liked me“ looking at ajax. while crying & xavier & wednesday run after her while ajax & enid just stand there.

maybe happy end where ajax realises that y/n‘s the one he’s in love with & not enid

— ☆ BROKEN HEARTED !

ajax petropolus x telekinetic!reader

synopsis; first love is always hard but you didn’t expect it to end like this

notes; i haven’t watched euphoria so i had no idea how the fight is suppose to go but enjoy !!

Having a crush on Ajax was interesting, to say the least. For instance, nearly everyone at Nevermore knew how you were head-over-heels for the gorgon — even Ajax himself; that resulted in you both being relentlessly teased by all the students.

However, even after all that, you never truly confessed your feelings to him. He did know you liked him but never gave it much thought; he usually just brushed it off and considered everything as rumours or just jokes since you never really confirmed it to him.

But today, you had decided that you were finally going to confess your feelings to him.

You were currently sitting in your dorm room, accompanied by Wednesday and Xavier, exposing them your elaborate idea to confess to him.

Xavier was intently listening to what you had planned whereas Wednesday kept offering suggestions and other comments.

‘If he breaks your heart, I’ll be sure to stomp on his real one,’ the black haired girl said while you chuckled.

After a couple of moments discussing your plan, you decided to go to his dorm room and confess to him. Xavier guided you to his dorm while Wednesday followed you for “support” ( as she had said. )

‘Right, here you go!’ Xavier announced as he pointed to the door in-front of you; he also snapped you out of your thoughts. ‘Good luck!’ ‘Remember Y/N, if he hurts you, Thing is ready to attack him,’ Wednesday added while you managed to give her a weak smile: ‘it’ll be fine.’

You knocked on his door a couple of times while attempting to twist his door knob. Luckily for you, it was open. You opened the door slightly and peered in, calling out Ajax’s name. However, your actions immediately came to a halt when you saw the sight in-front of you:

Ajax and Enid were sitting on his bed with their arms around eachother — Enid’s arms were around his neck while Ajax’s hands travelled all around the blonde’s body. They were kissing making out.

You were horrified at the sight you saw. Not only because your crush was with someone that wasn’t you but also because the person he was with was your friend, one of your closest friends.

Hot tears were threading to spill from your eyes and your entire body was vibrating, screaming at you to leave, run away but you couldn’t. You couldn’t move at all.

Consequently, the two teenagers had noticed you and your friends’ presence as well and they both immediately pulled away from one another, trying to explain themselves.

After a few moments of standing still, your legs finally moved. You tried to escape down the hall, ignoring the continuous shouts coming from your friends.

‘Y/N… we can explain.’

‘It’s not what it looks like.’

‘We’ll explain, please don’t leave!’

You wanted to run away, you wanted to go to another place — a place that wasn’t here. A place away from your friends.

However, your actions were stopped when you heard Enid’s voice call out to you. You stopped and turned to see Xavier attempting to stop Ajax from running towards you and Wednesday scolding Enid while she called out to you to explain herself.

‘Y/N…’ Enid began, ‘I’m really sorry.’ ‘Sorry? Enid… Sorry isn’t enough. You knew how I felt about him. You knew that I liked him,’ you shouted at her between sobs, ‘I feel betrayed.’

Enid’s eyes were fixated on her shoes as you kept shouting at her while aggressively wiping away any tears that threatened to fall from your sore eyes.

‘I’m sorry, I just can’t do this right now,’ you stated as you attempted to walk out of the dorm halls, filled with rage, sorrow and betrayal. You honestly couldn’t believe that one of your own friends would treat you like this.

Enid called out to you again as she walked closer to you, attempting to put her hand your shoulder but this time, you didn’t want to hear any of it so you let your emotions take over.

In a fit of rage, you threw Enid across the hall with your telekinesis. She screamed as she flew across it, in both fear and pain.

You couldn’t believe you had just done that.

You were horrified. Scared. Scared at what you had done. She was your friend after all.

You glance at your hand and then at the situation in front of you: Enid was tiredly leaning onto the wall behind her while Wednesday and Xavier were tending to her while Ajax was watching the scene unfold in-front of him.

You bit your lip in regret. You regretted what you had done to your friend.

You wiped a few more tears that escaped your eyes. You looked at Enid one last time as you mumbled: 'I'm sorry but I wouldn't have ever done this to you. Never,' you tried to leave the scene before you'd do anything that you might regret but were stopped when you felt someone grab your arm, preventing you from leaving.

You sharply turned your head back to see that it was Ajax. Your eyebrows were knitted together and your breath was uneven. 'I don't have anything to say to you, I thought you liked me,' you said and pulled your arm away from his grasp.

While walking away, you tried to clear your head from the things that happened earlier but failed to do so as the sounds of their shouts and footsteps were getting louder and louder.

Finally, you left the dorm halls and found your way to your dorm, which was completely barren. With a tired sigh, you threw yourself onto your bed and began to ponder the previous events of the day. You wept at the mere thought of them.

Heartbreak hurt you so much but what hurt the most was that it was caused by your closest friend.

[coldgoldlazarus]

Some stray Metroid Prime 4 thoughts in brief, that I didn't feel like making their own posts:

On Sylux and the writing:

Really hope Sylux is a good, complex, nuanced antagonist. Gimme that Cyclosis lore, too!

I am admittedly a bit worried that this being pre-Fusion (not that I expected it to be otherwise, but still) means they might not be able to do as much with the Federation as I'd hope for, but hopefully it can still do some decent foreshadowing. (Post-Fusion MP5 tho pls)

Apparently the lead writer has done some amazing work with a Star Wars game (Fallen Order?) though, so feeling more optimistic about the writing after learning about her

Since she did dialogue writing for that game, I kinda wonder if we might get to see/hear the return of some of Samus's internal monologue. I know Other M's reception makes that kind of unlikely, I'd be leery of that if I was the people at Retro, but I honestly think it could be done right. More of a Fusion-esque noir narration that characterizes her well could be what we need to heal from that.

Think I already said this, but just in case I haven't; hoping Sylux survives this so they can pop back in after Dread and be like "Told you so!" lol

On the gunship:

Gunship still has the bottom hatch. I bet Samus comes out of the top when there isn't a proper landing pad with reliably even ground, such as that spot she popped out in the trailer

The addition of red trim around the windshield is a cool touch, makes it look a bit more aggressive somehow. Like the gunship has dramatic tearful red-rimmed eyes or something

I like how she sent the gunship off immediately after getting out; she learned from Ghor

ZM gunship was destroyed. Prime gunship's fate unknown after Hunters, possibly just sold off to make way for the next two. Classic gunship and Corruption gunship seem to be alternated between depending on needs of the mission; rv camper van versus well-armed speedy one-seater. Then classic was destroyed in Fusion and she switched to the purple one full-time, instead of going back to the Corruption one. Could we see the Corruption gunship get destroyed here, clearing the way for that?

On the timeline:

Also curious if this will use Sylux's Metroid and the Mochtroids to create a serious enough Event to lead into the extermination order in Metroid II. Might kinda conflict with my desire for nuance, but I could see some ways to thread that needle

Also wondering if we might see Samus be a little bit more flawed and morally compromised here, coming off of Corruption and leading into Metroid II. Rewatching the extra ending for Corruption, it tends to get overshadowed by her grieving beforehand and the Delano 7 afterward, but for a moment after dismissing the powersuit, she has a bit of a darker expression. I wonder if that was meant to imply some subtler, more lasting impact of everything she went through there, that Beyond could expand on further. Or it could just be a determined expression that I'm misreading lol

Wouldn't object to them finally taking another stab at Meta Kraid, but pls no Ridley unless we absolutely 1000% need him here. In general want that to be the policy going forward; keep the recursion to a minimum unless it's necessary.

I don't seriously expect this to be post-Super (as interesting as that would be) because of the date, since the dates given are so infrequent and inconsistent. But I could see the emphasis on that coming first thing, plus the time travel, be used to finally clear up that inconsistency and put hard, definitive dates on stuff going forward.

On the possible time travel stuff:

Kiiinda wondering if they'd use the time travel thing to branch off the Prime series timeline from the 2D games for more creative freedom going forward, (sorta like the Star Trek Kelvin timeline) though I don't think it's likely. Would be interesting though

Torn between wanting to see the time travel used to get new angles on familiar places, versus just wanting to have mostly new stuff

Time travel used to foreshadow Fusion/Dread Metroid Samus pls, like the Hordika plotline in Bionicle being foreshadowed by Vakama's visions in the Tahtorak comic

As I said previously, also wondering if they'll use Sylux's Metroid and the time travel thing to patch the whole "Metroid Prime in the Impact Crater" inconsistency and bring things full circle

On gameplay and possible multiplayer:

Gameplay-wise, I just like how classically Prime it looks; obviously I want new gimmicks and mechanics and expect those will come in due time after that intro, but I'm glad they're not trying to completely reinvent the wheel and make the baseline more like traditional FPSes. This is Prime 4, not Metroid Doom, and I appreciate that (as someone who respects Doom)

Torn on multiplayer since I've heard whisperings on that; don't want it to become too geared toward that sort of thing and wind up with an influx of like, toxic CoD fans or something

But I wouldn't object to a Hunters-style multiplayer, (maybe paired with upgrades for more parity with singleplayer) Especially since Sylux is a factor, even if the story is just them and Samus, they could still use extra hunters for the multiplayer

Corruption's trio being included somehow would break my heart but make my day, even if they'd be difficult to balance mechanically

Revisiting the Hunters and Corruption casts through this would be great, but would also love if they added even more all-new ones on top of that. (Maybe a few more gals?) Let's keep building this out! Samus is the best of the best, but I wanna see the rest of the best xD

On the overall experience:

Honestly far and away most excited for the new places to explore! But I ironically have the least to say about that rn since it's such an unknown

Would love to see unique new biomes, I guess, kinda like I mentioned in my big wishlist. Maybe a coastline with cliffs and coves and beaches? Maybe badlands, with one huge long continuous canyon instead of several smaller ones? (Maybe even with a flying boss fight through it, like one of the early abandoned concepts for Meta Ridley) Something even crazier?

At any rate I love how that rainforest in the preview looks, and I especially love the foggy chasm with that huge bridge off to the side

On that note, the additional shots of the rainforest on the JP website all point away from that direction. I bet you there's an awesome fucking view of whatever's on the other side of that bridge, that they're saving for a later trailer. Or possibly something plot-relevant that they're saving for the game itself

Kinda torn between wanting to see a little bit more of the places we'll be visiting, versus wanting nothing else so I can go in almost completely blind

Really really looking forward to hearing the new title theme. Would be cool if the main menu takes after the logo and has a big black hole or something in the background

[nametakensff]

Warm Night In for Steddie?

So I was aiming for about 3k but here's 4.7k of these two lol

Mutual fetish AU one shot! S/teve and E/ddie finally get to spend a night together after a couple of weeks of not seeing each other - E/ddie is a little chilly from the trip to S/teve's house. Fun ensues

This did end up being more NSFW than expected but hey...it's me

~~~~~~

Content:

M/M, established relationship (maybe about 8 or so months in?), both S/teve and E/ddie have the fetish, E/ddie gets off to his own sneezing, sneezing from cold weather, sneezing from wine, sneezing from an external tickle, exhibitionism, teasing, a little bit of dirty talk, lots of cuddling and care-taking, descriptions of spray, (Got both of them sneezing because. um. tee hee <3)

CW: Steve is a little shy but nothing serious

NSFW, minors dni etc etc etc

Steve tried his best not to sprint to the door after hearing the doorbell ring – emphasis on ‘tried’. He’d been looking forward to Friday evening all week. It had been nearly impossible to see Eddie the past couple of weeks, conflicting schedules be damned. After a great deal of swapping shifts at their respective work places, reorganising some prior arrangements, and with the guidance of some invisible, benevolent entity, or positive karmic energy – whatever you wanted to call it – they’d managed Friday.

Heart fluttering in his chest, Steve yanked the door open and couldn’t help beaming the second he made eye contact with Eddie.

“Hey.” His smile practically splitting his face, he pulled his boyfriend through the door frame and into his arms.

“Hey, yourself.” He heard Eddie murmur into his ear, hugging him just as fiercely as he did him.

Eddie stepped back for a moment to turn and pull the door closed behind them.

“Sorry. S’cold.” He smiled, looking absolutely adorable to Steve with his knitted beanie and cute pink nose, before leaning back into Steve’s embrace, eventually seeking out his lips with his own.

They kissed each other for several long, luxurious moments, losing themselves in it until neither of them could breathe and they had to pull apart, laughing softly. Eddie rested his forehead against Steve’s, nuzzling their noses together, and the younger man seemed to notice for the first time just how cold the metalhead was.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes, Harrington.” Eddie kissed along the side of his mouth. It was equally as suave as it was antiquated, and the adoration Steve felt for him in that moment rendered him incapable of little more than blushing and grinning like a damned fool.

“Flatterer.”

Steve reached up to thread his fingers through Eddie’s hair when the sound of an egg timer rang out, making them both jump.

“Oh, shit, the food – come to the kitchen?” Steve started, already striding away.

“Y-yeah, I’m comihhng – hh! HG’Tchiew!! HN’ngxt’chiew! EhGxt’tchiew! Whoo…”

If Steve’s stomach had been a veritable pit of butterflies before, it was practically soaring in response to the desperate triple of hastily stifled sneezes that echoed out in the high-ceilinged hallway.

“Bless you, Eds – you okay?” He called out over his shoulder, successfully keeping his voice steady as he tended to the pot on the stove.

“Yeah, I’m fine, hon. Temperature change. I’m adjusting.” He heard Eddie respond, heard the thump of his boots as he dumped them in the hall and the rustle of his thick puffer jacket as he tossed it over the banister. He adjusted the temperature of the pots towards the back of the stove, listening as Eddie padded in behind him. The metalhead wrapped his arms around him from behind and buried his face into his neck, eliciting a squeal of protest that just made Eddie giggle and squeeze him harder.

“Your nose is freezing, dude!”

“All the more reason for me to hold you. Gimme some of that body heat, Stevie.” He punctuated his sentence with a distinctly wet sounding sniffle and Steve shivered in his arms. It was insane how reactive he was to even to the suggestion of any nasal irritation from his boyfriend – insane how responsive his entire body was to even the slightest touch from him at all.

Eddie must have felt him tremble – of course he did, cuddled right up against him – but he didn’t address it. Just pressed a kiss against the column of Steve’s throat one more time before pulling back and standing beside him, hip to hip.

“Smells good.” He leaned over the pots to peer inside. Steve managed to stop himself from asking how Eddie could possibly tell with such a stuffy nose, taking in the slight glitter of transparent mess starting to roll down his upper lip, no doubt urged along by the steam. Eddie seemed to take note of this himself and reached to tear off a couple of squares from the paper towel rack beside them, blowing his nose softly.

“God, sorry.” He muttered as he wiped his nostrils clean before tossing the damp paper into the trash. “Think my radiator’s dying, the van was freezing. My hands are like icicles.” Eddie flexed his fingers a few times for emphasis, and Steve tutted in concern.

“I think you made it just in time – the radio said snow.”

“Wouldn’t be surprised – guess we’re overdue, shit. At least almost everything that makes me an allergic mess will be dead and buried.” His eyes glittered with mischief as he watched Steve from under his lashes.

“Such a shame.” Steve responded, returning that heated gaze with a cheeky grin of his own. Eddie hummed and leaned back against the counter, watching for a moment as Steve continued to stir and adjust and fuss.

“Need me to do anything?”

“Oh, nah, I think I’m good…Actually, maybe just chop some more broccoli for me? Think I eyeballed it wrong.”

“You got it.”

Eddie set to work, pulling off his rings before chopping the vegetables tossed haphazardly on top of the cutting board. Steve had to remind himself to pay attention to the task at hand instead of staring dreamily at the metalhead’s hands – deceptively strong, as Steve had come to experience firsthand. He listened and laughed as Eddie relayed some of the surprisingly juicy gossip amongst the other men at the mechanic shop he’d found work at the past couple of months. The nagging and near-constant anxiety he’d learned to live with was melting away as it always did when Eddie was near, when he used his dramatic story-telling abilities to transform a workplace dispute into a tragic comedy of near Shakespearean proportions.

Unable to restrain himself any longer, Steve pressed himself up against Eddie, holding him in his arms from behind as the metalhead had done a few minutes earlier. He sighed a breath of relief onto the nape of Eddie’s neck, into his unruly curls that smelled like cheap shampoo and cigarettes and the scent that was uniquely his own.

“Hi, baby.” Eddie chuckled, before carrying on with his story and starting up on the last stem of broccoli.

“Hi.” Steve murmured, holding him close as he continued with his story and the chopping. Steve was listening, he really was – but he was also distracted by every minute shifting of muscles in Eddie’s back and shoulders, the rumble of his voice sending vibrations through Steve's chest.

So calmed was he by these rhythmic motions and vibrations that it was enough to leave him uttering a dissatisfied little grunt when Eddie trailed off mid-sentence. He suddenly tensed in Steve’s arms, a gasp scissoring out of him.

“S-sorry, need’ta-!”

Steve felt his face flush as realisation of what was about to happen dawned on him. His cock twitched in his pants, flush against Eddie’s ass. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t experienced this before – his boyfriend sneezing in his arms as he held him – but 2 weeks with no physical contact at all intensified everything, sending Steve’s heartbeat skyrocketing. He continued to hold his boyfriend, pressing his cheek against a rising shoulder as Eddie hitched and hitched. He could feel the expansion of his back against his chest, feel the slight stretch of Eddie’s flat stomach as his lungs filled with air. Right as the metalhead fell rigid, hovering just over the precipice of release, he reached up to rest one hand over Steve’s where it held his midsection protectively.

And just like that, he was pitching forward and into the shoulder Steve wasn’t resting against in an attempt to spare the vegetables an unwanted baptism.

“HEH-ENGXT’tsieww!! HDT’Chieww!! EHh’shieww!! ‘TCHieww!! Hahh, wow….”

Steve was blushing right to the tips of his ears now, he just knew it. Feeling Eddie buck against him, the rich, vocal tone of his desperate little fit…God, he’d missed this. Missed him. If his clinginess didn’t get the message across, his stiff cock jabbing into Eddie’s ass definitely would.

“God bless you, baby.” He all but sighed, kissing between Eddie’s shoulder blades before tugging at his arm, urging him to turn around in his arms. Eddie complied, sniffling sweetly, and Steve pressed a quick flurry of small kisses all over his face, particularly his twitching nose – he was only human – until Eddie was giggling like a school girl at the attention.

Throughout the kissing and the cuddling, he could feel that the older man was still chilled through. His nose, though a little warmer than before, was cold against his lips. Eddie’s leather jacket was frigid, even after the cover of his larger winter coat. His hands still icy enough that Steve could feel the coldness of his fingers through his cotton shirt as they clutched at his back.

“You’re still freezing, honey. And those were some serious sneezes. You sure you’re not getting sick?”

Eddie rolled his eyes, obviously getting a little annoyed at Steve’s mother hen line of questioning. But he couldn’t help it – he was a worry wart, and his worries wouldn’t go away until he personally did something, anything to fix them. He knew it was almost pathological at this point, but as he brought his boyfriend’s hands up to his mouth to blow some warmth back into them, all he cared about was making him feel better.

“I’m fine, Stevie.” Steve didn’t miss the full body shiver that ran through him, no doubt triggered by the warm breath on his fingertips.

He dropped Eddie’s hands and started to roll up his boyfriend’s sleeves, pushing back the leather and cotton of his long-sleeved tee. When he ran his own fingertips over the raised skin there, Eddie shivered again.

“Look, you’ve got goosebumps.”

“Honestly, Steve, I’m fine. Just…thawing out a little.”

“Yeah? You sure?”

“Is a duck’s ass watertight?”

“Dude, what the hell,” Steve was laughing, and Eddie looked ridiculously pleased with himself, the way he did every time he successfully pulled a giggle out of him.

“Yes, I’m sure. Now will you please quit worrying and feed me instead?”

“I’ll feed you if you go upstairs and change into my sweats or something. Get out of those cold clothes, please?”

Eddie put his hands up, rolling his eyes dramatically but smiling all the same.

“Okay, okay! I’m breaking out your finest cashmere sweater, since you insist.” He kissed the younger man on the cheek and squeezed past him, much closer than was necessary, and Steve felt one of those cold hands briefly grip his erection, standing at half-mast in his loose fitting sweats. Eddie snickered as he gasped in response, then cried out in mock-agony as Steve swatted him with a nearby wooden spoon.

“Dinner in 10!” He called up after his retreating boyfriend, already barrelling noisily up the stairs.

“Thank you, daddy!” Eddie called back, earning a gentle ‘ew’ that he wouldn’t have been able to hear over his own excitable laughter.

~~~~~~

Steve kissed into Eddie’s curls, holding his blanketed form protectively against him. After a dinner that the pair of them practically wolfed down (he’d never get tired of the litany of praises Eddie would send his way whenever he was eating his cooking), they’d cracked open a bottle of Steve’s parents’ most expensive red wine. Steve figured if they couldn’t be bothered to come home in over a year, then they wouldn’t notice a single missing bottle of Pinot Noir.

They were currently snuggled up on the couch, watching one tape of many Steve had smuggled back from Family Video. It had been Eddie’s choice, some schlocky Santa-themed horror movie, but Steve was hardly paying attention. He was focusing on the weight and (thankfully) increasing heat of Eddie half-sprawled in his lap, taking in each gleeful cackle as the deranged Santa hacked up yet another promiscuous teenager that had ended up on his naughty list. Or something.

It wasn’t just that the film was ass, or that Eddie was obnoxiously adorable. It was that with the ‘thawing’ had come a lot more sneezing than either of them had bargained for – and the wine had certainly not helped with that. Steve had offered to get antihistamines, but Eddie wholeheartedly refused. (“Rather be sneezing than sleeping. And I’m sure you agree, big boy.”)

So here Steve was, feeling a heady combination of mushy compassion and all-consuming lust for his poor boyfriend. He knew Eddie could feel the culmination of said lust pressing into him whenever he shuffled around, but he was choosing to ignore it – to drive Steve crazy or because he was just so absorbed in the terrible B movie, the younger man had no idea.

“EHh’NGXt’Ttchiew!! IGSHH!! Haht’TCHIEW!!”

Steve closed his eyes and let the sneezes echo in his head. He had half a mind to start recording his boyfriend when he got like this so he could play the glorious sound of it over and over at his leisure – but he was far too shy to ask for something like that, and the fear of anyone discovering a stack of tapes in his possession that were purely the sounds of his boyfriend’s plentiful allergies? Yeah. He’d probably drop dead right then and there.

He kissed the top of Eddie’s head and plucked several tissues from the box resting beside him, pressing them into his boyfriend’s open palm that was reaching gratefully out from under his blanketed cocoon.

“Here, baby.”

“Ugh. Thank you. I can’t stop.”

Steve bit his lip and willed his hips not to thrust as Eddie emptied his sinuses into the white bundle.

“Eddie…” he started.

“Before you ask again, Steve, and I mean it: I’m fine. I don’t want antihistamines. I’m totally content like this. Don’t worry.”

He turned around in the loop of Steve’s arms over his shoulders to kiss Steve, and the younger man squirmed at the pressure of Eddie’s hips against his crotch.

“Hah…” He gasped audibly this time. Eddie just smiled and kissed him again. It was about all he could take.

“You might be okay like this,” He sounded embarrassingly breathless. “…But I’m going insane.”

Eddie beamed at him.

“God, Stevie. You really did miss me, huh?” He teased, a gleeful lilt in his stuffy voice as he asked, and Steve’s suspicions that this was part of a sadistic little game at his expense were confirmed.

“You’re terrible,” he sighed, rolling his hips against Eddie. “I need to fuck you. Will you let me?”

“Hmm.” Eddie reached forward, purposely pushing his ass back against Steve, leaving him writhing and clutching at his hips. He took a swig from his wine glass before cuddling into him again.

“In a bit. I’m not finished with this movie yet.”

“Evil, man. You’re evil. God.”

“That’s my name, don’t wear it out.”

Steve groaned and Eddie chuckled at his barefaced exasperation. When those chuckles started to fade, his body stiffening in Steve’s arms, the younger man practically growled.

“Eddie, I swear…”

Eddie sat up, shimmying off of Steve’s lap to sit next to him, thigh pressing into his own. The blanket slipped down his shoulders as he straightened up. To Steve’s utter delight, he actually started to wave a hand in front of his face as the sneeze built, the way he’d seen countless girls at school do but never until this point his own boyfriend.

“You’re going to kill me, you know?” He whined, reaching between his legs and allowing himself to squeeze hard.

“Ca-hann’t h-help ih-hih-!! Help it…the wine…It’s making me-! S’gonna make me-!!”

Steve cursed and reached his hand into his pants, ghosting over his underwear and the damp patch where the head of cock was practically leaking. He wrapped his palm around his length and fixed his eyes on Eddie – his fluttering eyelashes, flaring nostrils, mouth dropping open and eyebrows raising up, up, up…

“Hh-H-HH-!! HAHDT’TCHIEWwww!! ESSHHH’IEW!! Hah-IGXT!! Eh’NGXT!! ‘DDZSHHiewww!! Hohh’my god…”

Eddie flopped dramatically back against the couch, moaning softly as he luxuriated in the relief of that most powerful little fit. Steve also moaned, embarrassingly loudly, clutching his throbbing cock through the sticky cotton of his underwear. He was about one quick flick of the wrist away from shooting in his pants. He’d felt every tremor run through his boyfriend and jostle him on the couch – seen the way that, with thanks to Eddie’s fortunate positioning, the low lamplight lit up the delicate aerosol of each release as it burst into the air. He wanted to be on his knees in front of him. He wanted him to get out every tickle in his sensitive nose all over his skin. He wanted, he wanted, he wanted.

Eddie regarded him, turning his head with a lazy tilt from where it rested on the back of the couch. Steve didn’t miss the way his pupils were blown, practically black and making his huge, glittering eyes look ever bigger than usual.

“Bless me.” He said, and smiled when Steve swore under his breath.

“That was – that was amazing.” He admitted, pulling his hand out of his pants when he realised the pressure against his cock was only worsening his situation.

“Yeah?” Eddie flashed him a crooked smile, rubbing a finger lazily up against his pink nostrils, clearly getting off on the exhibitionism of it all. “What was so great about those specifically, honey? Did you like how loud they were?”

Steve swallowed, his flushed cheeks burning harder. It was still so hard to actually talk about this stuff out loud, in detail. He had no idea how Eddie did it.

“Not that. But – yeah, that was great too. No, the um – the lamp. Behind you. It – lit up the s-spray. I could really see it and it was – a lot. So. Yeah, it was. Really something.” He finished lamely, cradling his brow in an upraised hand, partially shielding himself from Eddie even whilst his cock throbbed at the confession.

“Oh, honey. Don’t hide that pretty face from me.” Eddie was crawling into his lap in an instant, gently extricating his hand so that Steve was forced to look at him. He smiled nervously back at the older man.

“Sorry. Still a bit shy.”

“You’ll get there. And in the meantime – I’ll make up for the both of us.” Eddie leaned in and rubbed his nose against Steve’s. “I love when you tell me what you like, baby. Makes me so hard. Love getting you off with my tickly nose.”

Steve gasped, feeling his entire body tingle in response to the low rumble of his boyfriend’s words. He lurched forward, closing the short distance between his and Eddie’s lips and kissed him hard. For a few short, wonderful moments, Steve thought they were putting an end to whatever blue-balling Eddie seemed intent on enforcing, but no dice.  A particularly wrenching scream keened through the speakers of the television, and in a sudden swift motion, his boyfriend was pulling back from the kiss and turning heel, pacing towards the screen.

“You’re joking. You can’t be serious.” Steve groaned, his head flying back with a gentle ‘thunk’ against the back of the couch.

“I’m totally serious.” Eddie responded from the floor in front of the VCR. “I wanna know what happened. I’m rewinding it.”

“Eddie. I hate this. I want you.”

“Come on, Steve. There’s only, what? 30 minutes of this movie left? Surely you can hold out for 30 minutes.”

Eddie stood in front of him and smiled, all teeth and crinkled eyes. Steve would have felt endlessly bitter if not for the sight of his boyfriend’s own insistent erection pitching a tent in his borrowed, dark grey sweatpants.

“Fine.” He grumbled, and Eddie settled down next to him, kissing his cheek and wrapping the blanket round both their shoulders.

Steve tried to focus on the movie but it just wasn’t happening – not when he could feel his heartbeat in his dick and his equally as hard boyfriend was sniffling in his ear. For lack of anything better to do and praying for an adequate distraction, Steve reached for his wine glass and drained the contents in one large gulp. He wasn’t really a wine guy, but it wasn’t all bad.

A couple of minutes later he was no closer to focusing on the movie and no closer to having a flacid cock. It was as he shifted in his seat in an attempt to get an iota of relief that he felt it – the familiar irritating burn of a tickle taking hold in his sinuses. He could already tell he was going to sneeze – it was just so strong. He wondered for a moment if there was something to be said about the histamine levels in wine – it certainly seemed to get to Eddie, but so did everything. Either way, he figured he’d have some fun with this.

Tilting his head back slightly, he sniffled, hoping the action would urge the tickle along. And God, did it ever. He squinted his eyes against the sensation, feeling them starting to water. Just a moment later, his breath was catching and he started to hitch his way into an audible build-up. Both eyes fluttering shut now, he felt rather than saw his boyfriend tensing and turning in his lap to take in his desperate expression.

“Steve?”

“Hh-HAH!”

He thought he might be able to tease Eddie by talking his way through the hitching breaths that left his chest heaving and nostrils flaring in and out, but no. It was such an overwhelming tickle there was very little he could do but let it take over and do as it would with him. He tightened his hold on Eddie’s shoulder, mirroring the grip of the metalhead’s fingers against his upper thigh. With one final, gasping breath, he was lurching forward, aiming the brunt of the sneeze towards both of their laps.

“HH’RISSHHHHH’AH!!”

He felt Eddie’s fingers dig harder into his thigh, and his lips quirked into a shaky smile before he was tensing and releasing a second sneeze, again directly towards his boyfriend’s crotch.

“HAH-TSCCCHHHH’Ahh!!”

Both sneezes had been violent and drawn-out affairs – he blinked owlishly in the aftermath, relishing in the tingles each release sent from the base of his skull and down his spine. He leant back after a beat, wiping his damp lips and nostrils with the back of his sleeve, before snuggling back into Eddie – who he hadn’t so much as looked at even once. He could see that said metalhead was still staring at him at the periphery of his vision, still squeezing at his thigh with twitching fingers.

“Bless you, Stevie, holy fuck.”

Steve smiled pleasantly, as if he hadn’t shaken the entire house, let alone their shared couch, with each sneeze moments earlier.

“Thank you, hon. Think you gave me your tickle.”

Eddie cursed under his breath, as Steve knew he would, and now the smile splitting his face was downright mischievous. His boyfriend noticed, no doubt, and started to climb into his lap, but Steve stopped his advances with a firm hand to the chest. The look of incredulity Eddie flashed him as he was held back like an overexcitable puppy was objectively hilarious, and Steve couldn’t help but laugh.

“What? You said you wanted to watch the movie. Surely you can hold out for – what – 20 minutes?”

The bemused looks of realisation that replaced Eddie’s previous confusion as Steve essentially quoted him back to himself was priceless, even funnier to Steve. He laughed again, enjoying every moment of this. He thought he could maybe understand his boyfriend’s little game, now – this was fun.

Eddie, veritably hoisted by his own petard and visibly aware of it, settled petulantly back under the blanket at Steve’s side.

“Oh, I can hold out, alright. I can hold out for as long as I like and more. You fucker.”

Steve just laughed again, nuzzled adoringly into Eddie’s curls as the older man tucked his head under his chin. The pair of them were jostled softly just a few moments later when Eddie trembled with a sudden fit of sneezes, half-stifled into the fist he haphazardly pressed up against his nose.

“Hh’GKKt! IGXT! Hh’DTCchh! Hh-! HIG’tchu!! Ah…sorry…”

Steve kissed the top of his head, murmuring a soft 'bless you' as he willed his heartbeat to return to an acceptable rate. Despite almost believing his boyfriend’s repeated confirmations that he wasn’t getting sick, concern blossomed in his chest at the thick sound of Eddie’s post-sneeze snuffling. Reaching up with one firm hand, he tenderly brushed the older man’s fringe out of the way before resting his broad palm on the skin of his forehead. He heard Eddie tut, but he didn’t pull away.

“Yeah, okay. Doesn’t feel like you’re getting sick.” He muttered after a beat, feeling a little better.

“Told you.” Steve could practically hear the eyeroll in that statement.

“You’re still not entirely warmed up.”

“So keep holding me.”

Steve did, wrapping his arms tighter around Eddie and pressing his face right back into those curls. It was becoming a bit of an addiction – his boyfriend’s hair. The texture of it, the smell. It wasn’t the softest, but he didn’t care. It felt wonderful smushed up against his cheek. A little tickly though. Steve grinned and continued to kiss and rub his face against Eddie’s head like a clingy house cat – (no protest from the metalhead, who invited any and all physical contact from him) - allowing the stray fly-away hairs to tease his already sensitive nostrils. He sniffled experimentally, and yeah, that had done it.

He barely had a couple of seconds to angle his face away so that he wasn’t sneezing directly into Eddie’s hair, but the frantic twisting meant that his balance was compromised.

“HH’YISSSSSCHHH’EW-!!!”

As the sneeze practically tore through his throat, he scrambled to free one arm from the protective circling of Eddie’s shoulders. He managed to keep himself from toppling both himself and his boyfriend off the sofa with his right arm planted firmly on the cushions, but it didn’t mean the pair of them hadn’t been considerably shaken in the process. God, that had tickled. He opened his eyes, a tear of irritation rolling down his cheek as he blinked. He blushed slightly to see the residual spray of that sneeze still hanging in the air for some seconds before dissipating gently.

“God. ‘Scuse me.” He managed to keep his voice steady, even as his cock throbbed with the mischievous thrill of purposely making himself sneeze to wind his boyfriend up – something Eddie played up constantly.

It had been enough to break said metalhead, apparently. He was pulling Steve’s face to his own almost immediately, pressing a heated kiss to his lips and groaning at the sensation of the younger man’s slick nostrils against the side of his face. Steve kissed back eagerly, forgetting for a moment that he was supposed to be teasing his boyfriend but then no longer caring.

“I’m feeling a lot warmer now, honey. Trust me,” Eddie sighed against his mouth, having pulled back from the kiss with an obscene spit-slick pop.

“My bed is even warmer.” Steve replied, voice thick with arousal as Eddie’s clever, wandering hands seemed to ignite every nerve they skimmed over. “Only 15 minutes or so left of the movie.”

At that, Eddie paused in his ministrations and sat back. Steve watched, panting slightly, as the older man’s facial muscles ticked and twitched, an inner battle of impulsivity and self-control evidently warring within him. Eddie had a lot of physical tells, once you got to know him. He was an incredibly expressive person in both physicality and verbiage, and Steve was thankful for it – it meant he didn’t have to spend too much time agonising over whether he was second-guessing what his boyfriend was really feeling.

Eventually, Eddie turned to face him, a blank expression plastered to his face.

“Fuck it.”

“Come again?”

“Fuck it. Screw it. Can’t do this anymore. I’ve seen this shit before, Santa dies at the end.”

Eddie jumped to his feet and extended an eager hand towards Steve, a crooked smile well and firmly planted on his mouth. Steve grinned back and gripped Eddie’s forearm, allowing his boyfriend to yank him to his feet and lead him eagerly towards the stairs, both of them giggling like the lovesick idiots they were. This was gonna be fun.

[blxckcatwritesx]

it’s been years since I’ve found a new writing partner like this but does anybody else want to cook up two or more cute ships together that we love and mutually obsess over 🙏🏼

I’m not just talking writing, but also the headcanons, memes, plotting, text threads, doing little character or ship building memes we steal from tumblr over on discord. having their main verse we write in but then also? any AU or other setting we think of concurrently? gimme them in whatever original setting we think of, then a celebrity AU, supernatural one, or whatever other setting we think of 😭

looking for a writing bestie here too because I will 100% want to be your friend too 🫶🏼 idk I feel like this might be representative of old tumblr but if anybody else wants this PLS hmu and I’ll come running to you. I won’t ghost so I’d prefer if you didn’t either 🥲 if something doesn’t work I’m always happy to revisit the drawing board. until September I can guarantee high activity mostly, but work may require different things on a given day and I’m always understanding of what real life entails for you. if nothing else I’m around ooc and for talking about the bbs 🩷

if anybody is still reading here’s some more boring info below to consider and if you’re still interested PLS interact with this. Also so sorry for all the colors lmao tbh they were just to entertain myself as I write this long ass thing

21+ preferred (I’m 23F), 3rd person, and on discord 🩷. I write all pairing types and given I have SO many fxf and mxf pairings rn I’d love at least one mxm pairings at this time 🖤 the other pairings I’m open to ANY

Also if you have a wanted opposite I’d love to grab them for you. I get it. I won’t think you’re face chasing. I just rewatched Venom and it’s down bad for Tom Hardy hours bc he’s a cutie 🥲 other than him at the moment tbh I don’t usually have wanted opposites personally. Rn is a bit of a rare occasion (will love you if you use him but I don’t mind at all either way. pls let me know tho if you’re willing bc I might be too anxious to ask 💀). I never mind if my writing partners do have wanted opps though and if I’m thinking of a new muse I’m especially all ears. however I only like to grab wanted opposites (and visa versa ofc) IF we can still love all our ships and it doesn’t have that weird transactional/doubles feel. I want to collaborate and love all our pairings and I always do get obsessed with them all 🫶🏼

dark theme AND nsfw friendly but I’d rather discuss that in private!!

that’s all folks 👋🏼

[thekinkyleopard]

How the Wolf,

Snuffed Christmas

A Holiday RemixLevi Special!

Based off a Prompt! An @aller-geez Request!

⚠️Content Warning⚠️

Contagion M, Snz Fic, Sniffles, Cold Fic,

Sick Fic, Fluff

Description: This Fic is Loosely based off a prompt by Mimikusu.

Remi and Levi are long distance lovers who met online when they were teens. Now they’re adults and they can finally meet up! So the leopard flies the wolf out for Christmas to enjoy the festivities together as they both had come from broken families. Remi however, has come down with something gnarly, will it ruin the holiday magic? Can he hide it?

Levi practically bounced where he stood in the airport lobby waiting patiently for the sight of his long distance on and off boyfriend. For years the two were crazy about each other but due to distance they would often go back and forth between dating and just friends. They were obsessed with one another though and never went a day without talking. This time, Levi had saved up enough money to fly the man out, and he was more than excited to finally meet the other he’d been talking to since he was 13.

He stood there, waiting, and waiting before he saw him. The tall raven haired man came walking with the swagger of a mafia boss, glaring at each passing citizen that bumped him. It wasn’t long before their eyes connected, and they each broke out in a huge smile. Levi took off into a full sprint toward the large man, and immediately flung his body onto him like a spider monkey. Clinging to Remi’s body the two embraced each other tightly and without reserves, or hesitation Remi brought their mouths in for a heated, passionate kiss. When they pulled away, Remi pressed his forehead to the other’s and smiled deeply. “Heya, Kitten,” both of them out of breath and just happy to see each other.

“I can’t believe you’re here!” Levi squeaked as he twirled to the other’s side and reached for Remi’s one suitcase.

“Hey! Don’t you dare! Gimme that,” the man swooped the leopard’s hand into his own threading their fingers gently together before his other gripped hold of his own suitcase. “ANYWAY, where we headed?” Asking Levi with a charming side smirk that caused the smaller’s heart to race the moment he saw it.

“I figured we could go down to the Mall actually! There’s a Christmas Market happening this whole week there and I thought it was would be super fun to go to!” Remington’s heart dropped and he immediately wanted to get on a flight back home. He hated Christmas anything, his mother had ruined it for him. Every year she’d go on a tangent about how his dad left them with nothing and that’s why Christmas always sucked and there’s no gifts. Then she’d get doped up on horse and pass out. Happy Holidays.

Yet, when he looked down at the other’s excited face twisted in joy he couldn’t dare shatter that. So he nodded. “Okay but can we possibly go tomorrow? I really need to shower and get settled before I go walking around,” he chuckled loosely, scratching the back of his neck nervously, hoping he wasn’t disappointing the other in this moment.

“Good idea, we can go early and enjoy the whole day! They have a pumpkin pancake breakfast that is to die for but it’s only in the morning at the Cinnamon roll shop! So we can do that !” The cat was practically radiating with excitement and Christmas joy. Remi, not so much, but every second he was around the beaming cat, it didn’t NOT lift his spirits a bit.

The two of them sauntered quickly through the airport and out the doors toward the parking garage so they could start their Holiday Magic.

Two Hours Later

Remi and Levi were laid up on the couch watching Home Alone, hanging out in their jams. The wolf had his arm slung around the smaller’s shoulders, the cat snuggled comfortably within the crook of his boyfriend’s arm pit. “This is so fucking nice….” The white haired male sighed sweetly, squeezing the larger’s hand that was clasping his own.

“I have wanted this for so long, you have no idea,” Remi replied with a light chuckle, but something felt so unsettling about this perfect little pocket of happiness. His head felt hot and there was something off…? Scratchy? Unpleasant? He couldn’t place the feeling that was building within the base of his throat, but it wasn’t good. He knew that. He’s felt this before. Casually, trying to avoid drawing attention to himself, the man coughs into the crook of his free arm. “Sorry, heh, smokers lungs,” the blue eyed male looked up at the larger and noticed a hue of red splashed across the older’s face and raised a brow curiously.

“You sure? You look a little flushed there baby,” he reached up to try and attempt a temperature check, but the wolf slyly gripped his wrist and pressed a passionate, irresponsibly placed kiss upon the smaller’s lips and immediately melted within it. The black haired male rolled his tongue across the surface of Levi’s lower lip, before pulling back an inch, with a trail of saliva still connecting them.

“Just struggling to keep my hands off you…” he distracted the other smoothly in his flawless succession of avoiding being sent to quarantine. He was probably fine, just long day and jet lag.

“Oh yeah? I can’t be too mad about that,” the leopard smirked, wiggling his eyebrows before slowly sliding into the larger’s lap.

Another Hour Later

After rolling around the apartment against each other’s bodies for the first time ever since they started dating, both men found themselves naked, and sprawled across Levi’s Queen size bed. Sure they’d had FaceTime fun and sexted often, but this was a new level of intimacy that really escalated the way Levi felt about the large man, and vice versa. Speaking of, the leopard was completely passed out as the clock turned to 2am, but Remi lay awake, staring at the ceiling with an aching suspicion. If he went to bed now, it was certain he would awaken with a headache, leaking nose and burning fever. He just knew it, and it would be a miracle if the small male didn’t wake up feeling the same exact way. He knew all too well it was irresponsible, what he did. Defiling his lover like so while knowing damn well he was coming down with a horrible hankering cold, but fuck he needed him. It had been years, and nothing compared to being with him physically at last. He was hoping he could ask for forgiveness later.

It was fine, it was probably not that big of a deal in reality. It was probably just a light sniffle and throat tickle, and he could still go about his day. No biggie. He could keep it a secret, and it wouldn’t ruin the festivities he was reluctant to be apart of. He took a deep breath in. For him. He’d do it all for him. His head turning slightly to gaze upon the leopard’s peaceful sleeping face. Yeah, he could do it for him. No problem.

The Next Morning

Remi awakened, to an empty bed. He almost panicked, was it all a dream? He didn’t actually save for months and wasn’t in the loving arms of the boyfriend he had been dying to meet for years? His heart racing he quickly sat up, and regretted it. Why? Two reasons. He wasn’t hallucinating, or dreaming, he really was in Levi’s home, visiting but also….his head swam with disfunction, his vision going in and out of clarity as the pounding centered his now awakened cranium. He sniffled, his nose noticeably agitated. It was worse than he had feared. He was sick, sick.

The sound of energetic Christmas music echoed down the hall, and he already could assume where it was coming from. Sighing with deep dissatisfaction with the state of his current depleting health, the wolf tried to sit up, but it only made the throbbing in his head more profound. He winced, his half lidded eyes squinting in agony. “God fucking damn it…” he hissed through gritted teeth and a clenched jaw. How was he supposed to go out Christmas shopping under these conditions? He can’t. That’s how. He slumped back into bed, and closed his eyes….what if he just like, slept it off a little longer? That could work right? As he felt himself slowly drifting away from his consciousness…Levi came barreling through the door, the sound of Christmas music much louder now as it echoed from the leopard’s Bluetooth speaker attached to his belt.

“Rise and shine sleepy head! It’s time to get our holiday spirit on!” Giggling happily the white haired male pounced onto the bed and thusly, atop the wolf. “Let’s go let’s go!” He shook the larger loosely, who truthfully, wanted to die.

“Hnnnn….” He groaned in protest as he continued to lay put, the cat giggled, only finding this display to be rather humorous before sliding to a stand and yanking the covers clear off the other.

“No, hnnnnn….up! Let’s go! Pumpkin pancakes! Buying Christmas sweaters, decorating the tree….lets go !” The raven haired man growled from deep within his chest as the cold air left goosebumps across his skin. The sudden feeling of being cold, wasn’t just its usual chill, but like he might freeze to death. He shivered. Finally, leering his eyes open and sighing with exaggeration.

“You’re lucky you’re cute….” He said, peeling himself from his stomach to his back as Levi happily grinned ear to ear.

“I am, aren’t I?” He giggled kissing the man atop the tip of his nose. “Get dressed, I’ve got coffee ready, just gotta get this show on the actual road!” Clapping his hands, the man was already dressed in a soft pair of cashmere lounge pants, along a baby blue sweater over a grey tank and some grey moccasins. Something casual, warm, and eventually, he’d swap the top out for something more festive. He was all “Gumdrops and Figgy Pudding” while Remi wanted to stick his head into a fryer and call it a day. Alas, he did sit up, despite his body screaming at him to stay horizontal.

“I’ll give you some privacy! Meet me in the kitchen~” Levi winked at his lover before bounding off, taking all his energy and Christmas joy with him. Leaving Remi as an empty husk, his throat tickling and constricting the longer he was awake.

“Please….Not now…” he begged as he tried to scratch the itch that persisted by rubbing the blanket across his nose violently allowing the clicking crackle of his cartilage to fill his ear drums. It was almost sweet relief, until he pulled away. It attacked him like a criminal on the street, just out of complete left field. He sneezed. “iit’shHIEW!! H’iish’ue!” Twice into the open air in front of him, taking him not only by surprise but by force. Even if he had wanted to stop it from coming out, he couldn’t have. He snuffled with a moistened schluck of snot down the back of his sinuses, trying to get a grip on himself. He shook his head, mouth a gap as he couldn’t breath through his newly stuffed nose.

“I’b fugged….” He snorted, coming to a stand and sliding his bare arm across his glistening and dampened nostrils, god they were so full. “You god did Rebi….jus be cool….” He took a deep breath in through his mouth, but something about the cold air surrounding him made his throat close up and with another surprising blow, he sneezed again. “Hnkt'KNXTuhh! Hnnnn….” A fine mist of saliva escaped him, he tried to keep it back but it washed around him like a spritz of Febreze. He complained afterwards, digging through his bag, wiping his nose every 20 seconds to keep the mess within him contained. How much longer must he endure this session of agony? Digging out a black shirt, his orange hoodie and some black jeans, he begrudgingly and unwillingly, got dressed. What a nightmare. It took him far too long to get dressed and it was concerning to the cat waiting on him in the other half of the house.

“Rem? You okay?” He called out to the room, asking with a slight edge of nervousness. Did he hit his head and pass out? Or simply fall back asleep?

“Yeah, I’m comin!” There were signs of life, not just the slightly muffled sounds of surprise coming from within. Yes, Levi had distantly heard Remi sneezing but he didn’t think much of it, probably just adjusting to the smell of the man’s plug in scent. Either way his mind was less on Remi himself and more of what he planned to do with him! It was going to be a magical day full of holiday joy and spirit.

However once the two of them were in the car, driving in their way to the festivities, Levi noticed an undeniable shift in the larger’s demeanor and overall attitude. He was silent. Almost as if he was pouting in the passenger seat. “What’s wrong?” The cat asked reaching over to touch the man’s knee while he drove the vehicle with his other hand.

“I just….Christmas brings up a lot of stuff for me…no biggie, don’t let me ruin the vibes though,” he tried to reassure the cat by brushing off the inner trauma that was boiling inside him along side his sickness. Normally, he could push away the sad boy feelings but with the feeling of his illness getting worse, his gut churning with displeasure, it was harder for him to ignore all the bad feelings he was consumed by. Essentially, turning him into a stick in the mud. Yet, it didn’t seem to phase Levi even in the slightest, he could only smile tenderly and grab Remi’s hand, squeezing it with reassurance.

“It’s okay, holidays are hard for me too….but we have each other this year, and we will make new memories!” There it was, that sparkle of positivity and light that Remi was always so drawn to when it came to the leopard. He could almost swoon and melt but if he let his guard down for even a split second, he would be caught up, and the festivities would be ruined. Today Remi had a choice…..ruin the magic with his strengthening illness or suck it up and make this holiday the most magical season of Levi’s whole life. Should he choose wisely, it could benefit them both. He looked over and smiled, genuinely over at the freckled man.

“Yeah, you’re right….” The moment between them lingering before they pulled up to the parking lot. The whole place was decked out in heavy Christmas decor, wreaths, lights and tinsel all strewn about the lights and buildings. “Wow it’s like Santa came down and threw up all over the place,” he chuckled, earning a decently enthused giggle from his mate.

“Isn’t it so pretty though?” Parking the vehicle in one of the hard to find, by this point in time, spots amongst the lot. “Oh man I hope we didn’t miss the pancakes!” Almost now completely in a rush as the cat pulled the key out the ignition and basically hopped from the vehicle. “Come on Remi!” He urged the other while Remi took a moment of silence to himself, he brought his index up and tickled his nose, just enough, just right…a little to the left… “hh—hEhTXSSHhh’ih!”finally…he had to indulge if only a little, or else who the fuck knows when he’d blow. Quickly trying to rid his face of the evidence he cleaned himself up, sniffled loudly and proceeded to force his way out of the car. “Let’s fucking do this….” He motivated himself before his feet hit the gravel of the parking lot. Once the ball was rolling the two of them, hand in hand, made their way inside, if not at a slightly rushed pace. Levi really wanted those pancakes.

“Have you had their breakfast before?” Remi asked curiously as he was more or less dragged toward the large shopping building.

“My mom, my sisters and I would come here for Christmas before things got really bad….” He smiled softly, remembering the the times with them fondly but happier to make new memories that weren’t tainted by the reality of what happened next. “I haven’t had these pancakes since the year Erin died,” his voice much more solemn as he remembered the void her death had left in their family. Remi sniffled against the cold air, one part from the oozing illness that leaked from his orifaces but in part because, he knew the story of Erin. How she overdosed and it shattered the entire family apart. Connie ran off with some dope dealer, his mom took her own life 2 years later and Levi was left to celebrate the holidays, alone.

Things weren’t always perfect before but they were decent enough…the hard days he would escape and Remi was always right there waiting for him on the other end of the screen. He relied on him. He felt whole again, when he was standing with him now, hand in hand. Determined to reinstate the things he loved about the holidays! The larger squeezed Levi’s fragile palm in his own calloused and roughened one, looking over and down at those cerulean beauty’s, he smiled, hiding the slick sound of “sNdf…” with a followed cough. As if that was going to make a difference, but regardless he grinned “well I can’t wait to try these magical pancakes then,” in return he received a brightened Levi, who’s eyes shut to relish in the feeling of the other’s positive validation.

They got up to the restaurant and Levi looked around before getting the attention of a nearby waitress. “Hi, Miss? Did we make it in time for the Christmas breakfast?” The woman stopped and looked around first, and at her watch second.

“Oooo 10:02 you just missed it, I’m so sorry,” instantly Remi felt bad. If he hadn’t been so resistant to get up, they’d have made it. If he had just simply gotten out of the damn bed, and didn’t fall back asleep….the wolf narrowed his harsh emerald eyes and then cleared his throat.

“You sure you can’t make an exception? It’s not that difficult to make like four more pancakes right?” He scoffed, almost with an aura of swagger to him, Levi bit his lower lip, his gaze turning back and forth between the two. The lady crossed her arms against her chest and raised a thin eyebrow.

“Sir, if I serve you up past the cut off time, others will also want to, and that opens us up to serious criticism that we could face backlash for next year….maybe next time, get out of bed earlier,” Remi almost stepped back from the heat this lady was putting off. Did she just? Did she just SASS him?

“Alright lady, you can try without the cunty ass attitude next time,” he spat back at her before very abruptly, and aggressively shoveling the rack of brochures over, papers scattering across the restaurant floor. “Let’s go babe, I’m sure I can probably make you something better than these jackasses,” mumbling crossly under his breath before pulling the cat from the scene altogether. Levi blinked a few times, before getting the chance to process he found himself outside the restaurant now and the distant sound of Christmas music echoing inside the mall.

“Remi, that was kind of mean…it’s not her fault we missed the time,” Levi looked up at the wolf now who was practically cartoonishly steaming from his ears. However, the combination between Levi’s words and look on his face immediately caused the large man to break.

“Fuck….you’re right….sndf…” He snuffled gently, looking away, he felt embarrassed, he couldn’t keep his cool for ten seconds and just called that lady out of name for some fucking pancakes. He sighed. “I’m really sorry about that….look let’s go look for those sweaters and I promise, either I can make you some pancakes later, or we can try again tomorrow for pancakes…I fucked up, that was on me….I felt bad cause I didn’t get up in time….I took it out on her,” he shook his head, looking down at his feet, he scratched the back of his neck. What was he going to do? The rage only built up so fast because truthfully, the small walk from car to building wore him out. He was getting impatient with this cold brewing inside him, taking control of who he is.

Yet with determination to keep it at bay, he swallowed it to have a better experience with his boyfriend. “I forgive you, Rem, it’s okay, we all have our moments….we can try again tomorrow, I know you’ll really like them…and we can bring the waitress an apology gift as well,” the wolf did not like this idea, he wanted to sink into a puddle and throw a fit. However, he restrained himself well, he even put on a tender enough smile, and said

“Good idea, Kitten,” pulling the smaller male into his chest with a swift motion, and kissing him on top of his white hairs. Levi giggled holding closely to Remi for a moment before reluctantly pulling away. Lucky for the wolf, as the wild strands of hair had just started to rejuvenate that once faded feeling of needing to sneeze.

“Christmas sweaters????” His face beamed again, there it was. He managed to bring that gleam back to his favorite person’s face, it couldn’t get much better than that. A good enough distraction, well, motivation to eat whatever was brewing upward. Nodding with a low chuckle he agreed, taking each other hand in hand again before making their way swiftly toward the first store decorated in the appropriate festivities, Spencer’s. They didn’t have to look very far before they ran face first into the holiday attire up for sale in the front of the store. The cringiest, most foul sweaters painted their eyes and immediately it warranted a loud cackle from the white haired male.

“Oh my god I want this one,” a blue black and white themed Christmas sweater with, well, festively decorated dicks all over it, with the words “All I want for Christmas” sprawled crudely along the top of the holiday peeni. Remi almost choked on his laughter, shaking his head back and forth. He wanted to lose himself in this moment completely, but he could feel that feeling again, making itself more and more known through each passing second. His head burning, knees weakening and mouth salivating. He was going to crack. He needed to press on but his body was rejecting him. Doing what he could to swallow it, he scanned over the options of sweaters before landing on one he actually liked.

“Okay but this one? I like them real big and sprucey? Too good…” his hand draping over the red material of the sweater he was pointing out. They both shared another moment of giggles and chatter as they shuffled through the different options. “I don’t know, I still really like thick and sprucey…..” trying to be slick, he turned his head, and snuffled into his jacket, “SnDdf…” Levi noticed the action but didn’t think too much into it, as he figured, maybe the wolf was trying to place a scent. There were a few bad ones that wafted past them. The cat ignored it, looking back to the sweaters.

“Yeah I don’t blame you, I really like the dicks one….” Pausing in contemplation before he chirped again “Lets get em!” he nudged the wolf with his elbow, the raven haired man raising a brow before smirking at his boyfriend with approval.

“Bet,” he pulled out his wallet and handed the leopard his card. “On me, go get em… Imma look at their band tees real fast,” Levi nodded before scampering off, and truthfully, Remi did want to browse the shirts, but in reality, he just wanted a moment alone to….

Looking around once, twice, he brought the back of his hand up to his nose and began to violently scratch at it, pushing it into circles, the flesh of his hand getting wet with ick. “Fuuuuu….” He almost moaned it felt so good. As much as he wished this was a solution, it really only made matters infinitely worse because that small itch turned into a very pronounced sensation. Static started to fill his brain, and his eyes began to water….the incense burning throughout the store was also not in fact helping him fight it off. Levi was still in line….it wouldn’t hurt to just… “-h’dtTISHh! ,” he covered his mouth with two palms clasped around his face, allowing whatever mess he left, to scatter across his hands. He pulled them back but the light caught his slowly opening eyes and once again found himself lurching forward “HI’DTSCHIEW!” This was much louder and caught the attention of another nearby customer.

“Bless you!” She said kindly, nodding her head in his direction. Remi ignored it. He had to get himself back to normal, he had to find the strength inside his soul to swallow whatever was still wanting to burst out of him. He groaned, wiping his nose on the inside of his sweater, then his eyes against the hem of his sleeves. He looked over in the small mirror by the hats and found himself looking presentable enough under the dense lighting of the store. Having just gotten it together he turned around, spooked to see Levi standing there bag in hand.

“What if we put these on and took some photos with Santa??” The male wiggled back and forth with his hands gripping the handle of the store bag, twisting it with excitement. The other’s eye twitched. A photo? With Santa? He wanted to rip his own arms off and eat them over taking a picture with Santa but the second he made any sign of dismay at the idea, Levi’s face also fell a bit. Shaking his head and hands Remi panicked.

“No no it’s fine I just….I look terrible….” He muttered trying to be as truthful as he could. He did. So he thought.

“You’re handsome! Stop that!” He frowned and furrowed at the other. Remi took a deep breath in and plastered the best smile on his face that he could.

“Thanks Kitten, alright, let’s go get that photo,” he really would absolutely do anything for the cat, including swallow his own rage and pain to give the man a lifetime of a happy memory. He swore he wouldn’t allow himself to ruin it, and this was him holding himself to that. They left Spencer’s and crossed the mall in order to get in line at the photo station with Santa and the “North Pole”. While inching closer to the front every few minutes, Levi pulled out their sweaters and encouraged Remi to slide off his hoodie for an exchange. He did so, but at what cost, for the fabric slid and tickled his aching nose on it’s way off. Oh god. It was gonna happen again wasn’t it? No he had to hold it in….or should he get it out before? He panicked. Now he had a time crunch and a decision to make in it.

Was he supposed to sneeze right now and play it off like he’s just allergic to something in the air or wait til after the photo and risk blowing his top on Chris Kringle? What to do what to do….he pulled the sweater over top his head and Levi did the same. He was still locked in choice paralysis, unable to decide which of the two options would make more sense but it was too late by the time he figured he could confidently make that choice….he and Levi were up next. “Okay just pose with Santa and on the count of 3 say Merry Christmas!” The employee dressed in a cheap elf costume tried to speak with enthusiasm but just the same as Remi, they both did not wanna be here. He took a deep breath and walked toward the strange man in the Santa costume. It’s fine. It’s no big deal.

In fact, he felt like it was going away after all, maybe he would be able to have one good memory of this mall trip. He stood on the left side of the man’s throne and Levi stood on the right hand side, both men posing with a cheerful grin, but as the camera man began to count down. 3….

Remi scrunched his nose, trying to fight it, but it only got stronger. He did it again. 2….this time a larger circle and putting his all into it. Nothing worked and by the count of 1 as the flash hit his eyes, he was already mouth wide open. “Hd’IZTSsHHhhh’ih!!!” Loudly and rudely the mist of sick and saliva sprinkled across the unsuspecting Santa‘s face, the camera capturing the horrendous moment forever in a single shot that would certainly be pulled out every year for a laugh. The look of absolute disgust written across Kringle’s face, Levi standing there innocently smiling, blissfully unaware of how this photo was going to turn out, and Remi, slacked jawed, one squinted eye, one buldging…sneezing across the man himself. Mr Clause. He would be apologetic, but he just felt shameful. “I’m….so fucking sorry….” He admitted to the stranger who only blinked twice and immediately worked to wipe off the dust spackle of germs that had assaulted his face.

“Merry Christmas,” the man said with a stone cold tone, and immediately Remi took his leave, didn’t stop to get the photo or even take a glance at what horrors awaited him. No. He just found himself a nice spot behind a big fake tree to hide his beating red face. He just sneezed onto a complete stranger, in front of a camera….IN FRONT OF HIS BOYFRIEND. He’d never been more humiliated. He was stunned. Why did the universe hate him so much? His knees buckled under the weight of his stress and also at the burning fever that now raged inside his head. There wasn’t any coming back from this and when he was approached by Levi who held the envelope of evidence in hand, he shyed from the idea of even making eye contact.

“Remi, are you okay?” He asked gently, stepping closer to the man, noticing a complete difference in his demeanor now, almost like a kicked puppy.

“No….Im sick…and I probably just got that guy sick and in a few days, probably you too….” He confessed and with the most pitiful look written across his face, managed to gaze over at Levi. “I’m really sorry I didn’t tell you…”

“Hey….,” Levi stepped closer reaching out to caress Remi’s face “Hey…it’s alright, I get why you did,” he shrugged his shoulders simply, trying not to make a big deal out of the situation, just continuing to brush his hand across the larger’s flushed cheek.

“You do?” Pathetic green eyes looked up into sympathetic blue ones.

“You wanted me to have a good time here, and to create that memory, huh?” Levi’s gentle gaze, was like a tender hug, a caress in itself and immediately washed away Remi’s need to bury his head in the sand. He loosened.

“Yeah….” Responding with a softened tone now, still listening and waiting for the rest of what the man was going to say.

“Well, we did!” He giggled, Remi now looked puzzled and stood a bit straighter, the cat wrapped his arms loosely around the larger.

“I’ll always remember this Christmas as the one where you FULLY sneezed on Santa,” Lifting his hand up to cover his mouth while he laughed, Remi furrowed his brows and shook his head.

“Nooooo….i don’t want that….” He groaned loudly throwing himself back against the fake tree with dramatic embarrassment again.

“No but Remi this picture is so fricken funny….” He tried to shimmy it out of the envelope but Remi blocked his view of seeing it with an open hand.

“Stooooop I’ll vomit…dude it’s so fucking embarrassing… he was so mad…” groaning, he couldn’t help but feel panicked again. God that guy probably hated him, and if he didn’t now he for sure would later.

“Fuck him,” Levi laughed before wrapping his arms around the other again and setting his cheek against him. “I appreciate you…I had a good time, but let’s get you home to rest okay?” He looked up, chin resting on the other’s chest now.

“Alright, I can’t deny I’d give my two front teeth to lay down in bed right now…” he groaned letting his head fall to rest on Levi’s. After a moment of allowing the wolf to use him as a crutch, they slowly peeled away from each other.

The two of them gathered their things and made their way out of the mall, trying to avoid any contact with people as they did so. While also attempting to keep the mood light, Levi played music on their way back, so Remi could rest his mind, which he did, enough to even fall asleep in the car. When they arrived back at the house it almost felt like he teleported. “Rem, we’re home,” the cat tapped his boyfriend’s shoulder gently to wake him. “Let’s get you in bed, hm?” He smiled over at the half alive man.

“Mmh…Kay…” he responded, Levi helped him unbuckle his seat belt as he had struggled by himself to do so. Then managed his way out of the door, stumbling into the house. “What ‘bout couch?” By this time, standing felt a whole lot worse than it had before they had gotten in the car. Now it felt like gravity was pulling him straight down into the depths of hell where he belonged.

“No, no, come on, you can make it to the bedroom, I believe in you,” he let out an airy laugh, scrambling under the man’s arm to help almost float him toward the room. “Shoot….I let you sleep for 15 minutes and your body shuts completely down! I swear!” He huffed, holding quite the weight against him as he shoveled the man into bed, plopping him on top of the mattress with a loud *THUMF* “There…now let me go get you some meds, and water and you can go to sleep after,”

“What about decorating the tree?” Remi’s voice raspy with sleep, but still concerned for his little cat’s holiday.

“We can do that in a few days when you’re feeling stronger okay? Don’t worry about it right now,” threading his fingers through the wolf’s slightly dampened hair.

“Okay….Levi?” Remi asked in a gentle tone, almost like a shy child.

“Yes, baby?” The white haired man responded with tender caution, turning as he paused in the doorway.

“I love you,” The wolf’s mouth pulled into a half smile and his eyes sparkled with genuine gratefulness and love. Truthfully he hadn’t ever felt so loved, so cared for in all his entire life.

“I love you too, handsome,” his response followed by a softened smile, he just wanted to curl up next to him, but knew without proper care the wolf would only get worse. So out the door he went to retrieve the proper meds and supplies.

Though they didn’t make the memories Levi was expecting to this Christmas season, he was more than happy with the ones they made. Was it messy? Yes. But so were the moments he had as a kid, but this was much more comforting. A sick partner laid up in his bed, as he tended and mended him back to health. A photo of the memory they would look back on and be able to laugh at. The leopard truly couldn’t have asked for anything better, and in return neither could the wolf. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so seen, supported and taken care of. This WAS special, even if it seemed a little mundane.

For the first time in both their adult lives, they had Christmas spirit again, and were actually incredibly grateful for it.

The End.

Author’s Notes: Oops dropping a fluffy snzy Christmas fic in Jan. I hate myself too guys :^) this was supposed to end with smut but if I wanted to get this out before next holiday, I gotta be honest, I had to take it out. I can’t write smut to save my LIFE right now. However I hope you enjoyed this fun little Christmas themed snack. I’ll do better next year 😭🤣 @aller-geez did the art and owns Remi!

[breadvidence]

Another day, another adaptation: the 1982 French film, this round. The fact that every adaptation makes at least one lunatic choice really keeps my hyperfixation hyperfixating. Standout points:

This is the dirtiest Les Mis, and I don't mean because there's a nip slip. Streets, clothes, faces, interior walls of buildings: just about everything is dirty at best and caked in filth at worst.

Michel Bouquet's Javert has a parallel with Oyelowo's, which—shockingly—I don't mean as a critique (much): they are depicted as cleaning up their offices with the Paris police, Bouquet very literally (six months into his tenure, he drags his fingers across a painting in his office, streaking through thick dust; eight years later, he repeats the gesture, but this time to remove the barest fleck), and there's a definite career arc subplot for both. In BBC 2018 this is because the narrative thinks Javert is a badass; I'm less clear on what '82 is going for.

Lino Ventura has an interesting, craggy, wrinkly, mobile face, and he utilizes it thoroughly through Valjean's different iterations, from the slack and suffering convict to the dignity of Mayor Madeleine and somewhere in-between as Ultime Fauchelevent.

Award for most bombastic and cheerful Amis ever. The polycule energy is strong. Instead of OFPD, the entire line-up gets the firing squad treatment at once (bewildering and delightful, this sequence includes time pausing for everyone except Grantaire, who grabs a last drink and strolls over to the others, there to take his place for the final shot; someone gimme the fanfic in which he has time-based superpowers, please).

Instead of an intimate moment between her and Marius, Éponine's death includes the Amis standing in a semi-circle around the two of them. Marius proceeds not to grant her dying wish for a kiss. Awkward.

In a change which makes zero sense to me, Valjean survives an additional five years in this adaptation—but this ain't a fix-it fanfic. He severs ties with Cosette utterly the day of her wedding and lives in increasingly filthy solitude (this would not be '82 without filth). For extra pathos, in an irrelevant scene he's depicted collapsing in the street and being robbed. He dies alone, painfully, crying out for Cosette, having suffered a final vision of her and Marius frolicking down a lane (his horrified reaction to this, unlike everything else happening here, is certainly Brick-compliant). Catherine is present and possibly cursed?

Please, the final scene, dwell on it with me. It mirrors the first scene of the film: convicts in chains shuffle bare-footed through mud; one collapses; we see others labor to pull carts full of stone; Javert calls Valjean's name; we see Valjean pulling a cart alone;—in the first scene, Javert then says "You are free", but in the final, "Now you are free". Both are in their old-man wigs and makeup. We have been hit over the head with a point one can certainly derive from the novel, that Valjean's suffering ends only after death (or, in the case of '82, after a little purgatory). But! That it was all Toulon—awful. And that Javert is his final voice of salvation—weird, and AWFUL.

Interesting that '82 is so profoundly grim for Valjean despite clearly, from the Amis, having the capacity for cheerfulness. Not sure what to do with that!

Anyway, my favorite character in this adaptation is Combeferre's beard.

[eta] Forgot: there is the lead-up to the coffin heist and lead-up to Marius lobbing the "les cognes sont là" note into the room during the Gorbeau ambush, but the film does not actually include either of these events—I'd almost wonder if there's a missing scene somewhere for the former, but the latter is simply a dropped thread.

[findyourrp]

🚬🤠 Howdy, y’all.

I am offering up my deliciously religiously traumatized cowboy for the masses. He’s big! He’s buff! He’s scared of going to hell! Did I mention he’s the preacher’s son?

I’m a 25 year old person who prefers they/them pronouns. I’ve been roleplaying and writing for many years, probably before when I should have been! I’m looking for a fandomless mxm sort of interaction romantically, but I’m more than happy to build out a platonic plot with anyone. I’m totally game to send you a sample of my writing if that makes you more comfortable- in turn, please shoot me some of your ideas! I love collaboration. I also beg for IC patience- I’m getting my master’s and sometimes get busy, but I’ll always communicate. I’m almost always around to chat OOC if you like making friends! (Because I love making friends).

I mainly write through discord and I’m open to all sorts of FC’s! I also don’t mind old skool email threads.

Looking for toxic relationships, dead dove themes of alcoholism, substance abuse, and gay awakenings in small towns! I also love NSFW content when the moment is right.

Please be 18+!

I’m absolutely open to anything you could throw at my boy- some really quick ideas off the top of my head consist of the following:

-Childhood besties to lovers: Did my cowboy grow up beside your fella? Do they know each other like the backs of their hands? Did they ever kiss down in the stables away from the prying eyes of God almighty? Who knows!

-Enemies to lovers: Please. I’m begging. Someone lemme throw my boy into a bar fight that escalates into a good ol’ fashioned make out session in his truck afterwards.

-Demon x preacher’s son: Self explanatory! Gimme a demon for my cowpoke to fight that isn’t strictly emotional. :)

Iffin’ you find yourself inclined, give this a like and I’ll reach out to you!

.