#if you have even a few dollars every little bit will help so much!

[tonycries]

A Million Dollar Baby! - N.K.

Synopsis. Turns out, rent can be paid in much more than one way.

Pairing. Nanami Kento x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, landlord! Nanami (kinda), oraI (male + fem), cúmplay, reader’s a tease, unprotected, creampíe, down bad FERAL Nanami, spítting, bréeding, messing up his glasses, pantý-stealing, he’s sweet but fúcks so MEAN, mentions of Higuruma, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.8k (wild)

A/N. Decided it was high time I feed my Nanami girlies hehe.

“Just get the money and go.” Nanami deadpans, like a mantra. Giving a rapt knock on your apartment door, “I swear m’making him buy me lunch for this.”

Now, it wasn’t that Nanami was exactly upset about taking over Higuruma’s landlord duties for the day - no, in fact, he was the first one at his friend’s door with a bag of prescription medicine for the other man’s fever and the suggestion to take the day off.

But it was the thought of finally coming face-to-face with you - that mysterious new tenant that’d just moved into his building. The one that had Nanami wondering whether you were really as “sugary sweet n’ irresistible” as Higuruma raved you were. 

Though, he can’t imagine you’d be particularly happy about being woken up at 10am on a Sunday for overdue rent - he certainly wasn’t.

Seriously, he had no idea how Higuruma managed to do this every-

Click!

“Higu- you’re not Higuruma.”

Oh, and suddenly, Nanami gets it.

If he got to see this view, too, then he might just become the landlord himself.

It’s as if you knew you’d be playing with his sanity as soon as you opened that door, dressed in a fitted t-shirt that did absolutely everything to show off every bit of skin he shouldn’t be looking at. Your lips curving into a sinful little smirk when you notice his eyes dancing off that excuse of fabric you call “shorts”.

“Um…” you hum, after a few moments of silence. Leaning against your wooden door frame to give the tall man an appreciative one-over, “Nanami, right? You’re Higuruma’s friend?”

It’s as if the sound of his own name jolts Nanami right back into his senses, clearing his throat as he readjusts his glasses. “Y-yes. Nanami Kento.” And he winces, fuck he’s never stuttered like this. Never, even in the toughest of board meetings. Yet, here he was - making a fool out of himself. 

Knowing he’s completely fucked when your delicious grin only widens, he bows politely, “Apologies for barging in like this, ma’am. But Higuruma’s sick n’ m’here to collect the rent in his place.”

You wave off his formality, introducing yourself. “Ah, of course. I’ve seen you around, always been too nervous to come up and say hello, though.”

And, suddenly, Nanami’s glad you never came up to him to talk out of your own volition, he thinks he’s rather put off embarrassing himself for later. Coughing softly, “I apologize, s’my fault. It was rude of me to not introduce myself first.”

“Well, better late than never, right?” you continue in your smooth tone. Before your eyes catch down his broad shoulders, the bob of his Adam’s apple, the clipboard held between his long, long fingers. “Right- the overdue rent. I swear, Higuruma’s always such a sweetheart, he doesn’t bother to remind me.” Opening your door wider to give Nanami a good look inside your cozy apartment - something forbidden. ���Come in come in, I seem to have lost my wallet somewhere in here though, maybe you can help me find it.”

Oh? 

And Nanami knows this is dangerous. He knows this is much more than his simple plan earlier of just “get the money and go”. He knows that little glint in your eye certainly does not bode well for him as soon as he steps through that door. 

Yet, he answers anyway, “Of course, lead the way.”

Every bit of small talk in your sultry voice has Nanami gulping, loosening his favorite yellow tie while he follows you inside. Averting his eyes from the curve of your shorts, he takes in the neat state of your apartment. 

That is, until-

“Here we are.” you lead him to a towering pile of clothes piled unceremoniously on your tv room couch. Gesturing airily at the mess, “I’m sure I left my wallet in one of my pants, so you can just sit here until I-”

“I’ll do it.” Nanami’s quick answer stuns the both of you momentarily. But before you can resist, he’s shrugging off his jacket, ignoring the heat of your gaze when he bunches up his sleeves to reveal strong, veined forearms. “It’s only fair, since m’bothering you so early.”

You chuckle, “Oh? What a gentleman, we can do it together then, handsome.”

So here he was - sat on your cramped couch, your thighs flush against his, tackling your laundry. This was definitely a far cry from getting the rent and leaving - but, alas, Nanami can’t find it in himself to complain when he neatly folds up your clothes. 

Whereas you were hastily throwing them god-knows-where, hissing, “Where- is it-” 

“Patience.” he’s humming, placing another t-shirt on your coffee table. “Higuruma’s in no hurry, he can barely get out of bed right now.”

You click your tongue in frustration, “But you, Nanami-”

“-are perfectly fine helping you out.” Nanami cuts in, flashing you a gentle smile. Your eyes widen at the sight of a soft dimple at the corner of it. Which makes him tear his gaze from that pretty pout on your lips to turn back to his dwindling half of the pile, “Besides, it would be a shame if such a nice apartment was messed up by- by-”

Fuck. 

Was that what he thought it was?

His fingers tremble, looking so fucking big wrapped around that those tiny strings of hot pink. Sinful. Obscene. Shit, if he tried he could just rip it to pieces with his bare hands right now - even if you’d been wearing it.

“Hm?” you’re gasping at the sight of the man before you, body stiff, ears a guilty red, gaze hardening at where he was holding onto one of your panties. Oh, shit. You pluck the offending piece of material from his hands, “Oh- whoops. Um- that can’t really be folded.” Throwing a wink at the flustered man - and the lingerie right back at him. “Evidently.”

It was all too much for Nanami, and he’s bringing a hand up to cover his blush - before ripping it off like it burned when he realized it was the same hand he held your panties with. 

Somehow, he manages to choke out, “Maybe- maybe we should try looking somewhere else.”

And it was true - the few messy clothes now leftover (and…Nanami couldn’t forget, your underwear) didn’t show any signs of hiding your wallet. 

“If you say so~” you muse, getting up from your seat - only to get down on your knees. Right in front of Nanami’s manspread legs. 

“Wh-what are you-”

“Under the couch.” you interrupt, enjoying this way too fucking much for the poor man’s sanity as you flash him a cheeky grin. And he smacks himself mentally for letting his imagination be toyed by your teasing whims. “I might’ve dropped it under the couch, so won’t you be a dear and help lift it while I look?”

He couldn’t get up fast enough, almost stumbling over his long legs to crouch down beside you - just anywhere away from this scandalous position. “Ready?” Nanami rasps, biceps bulging tight against his button-up when he easily tilts over your couch. 

“More than.” you take a second longer to admire him before going back to your mission.

Which - whatever’s left of the rational part of Nanami’s brain really thinks might just be to drive him insane instead finding that fucking- what was it- wallet? 

“Hmmm seems it’s not here either, right, Ken?” He doesn’t know what he’s reeling at more - the fact that you used his first fucking name or the way you were arched so teasingly like that. On your knees, spine curving into a delicious little bend that has the crotch of his pants growing just a bit tighter. And- shit he was wrong. So, so wrong. Because those weren’t a sinful pair of shorts like he’d initially thought after all, instead, they were more like underwear. Flimsy and thin, bunching up perfectly at the crease of your hips. 

You were captivating. 

At his heavy silence, you bat your lashes so deceivingly innocently, “Oh? Was it the name? Sorry, Nanami, you’ve just helped me so much that it ah- slipped out. I won’t do it again.”

“No.” he grits out, the both of you surprised by the ragged hitch in his answer. Already so disgustingly missing the sound of his first name rolling off your tongue. “I’d like it if you called me that- ‘Ken’ that is, if you want.”

“Well then, Ken.” you brush up unnecessarily against his sculpted body as you move to get up and dust yourself down. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but my wallet’s not down there.”

Shit, he thinks, looking down at the empty spot of carpeted floor for the first time. You little tease, you knew what you were doing. 

Grinning unabashedly as you tug on his arm, “Come on! There’s one more place to look.”

As you pulled him along to the kitchen, Nanami had held out the hope that maybe - just maybe - this would be an actual attempt at finally paying off your overdue rent. Maybe he could walk out of this unscathed and holding onto whatever’s left of his dignity (and lacking the raging boner that was threatening against his slacks right now).

But every feeble hope of that was thrown out the window the moment you instructed him to hold the rickety, certainly unsafe chair propped up in front of your counter steady. 

“I swear I must’ve left it somewhere up there.” you grumble. Not wasting a moment before climbing onto it and rifling on top of your high cabinets. “No harm in trying, right?”

He gulps, palms getting sweaty on the wooden back of the chair with the effort to keep it still. “Are you sure you left it on top of there?”

“Huh? Yes yes, of course.” you answer absentmindedly. Your shirt snagging on your arms as you raise them even higher, “Think you can see something from down there?”

If Nanami could see the top of your shelves, then he didn’t want to find out - not when one glance upwards blessed him with a forbidden glimpse right up your t-shirt. All it took was a flash of skin before he was hit with the realization that you weren’t wearing a bra. 

“Ken~”

“Fuck!” he breathes, when he looks up involuntarily at the sound of his name. Face burning when you raise a brow, “U-um, m’not sure.” 

Yeah, he sure could see something - hell, he wanted to see more. 

He urgently swipes at the sweat slowly beading at his forehead, immediately regretting his actions when the chair tips ever-so-slightly. “Shit, I apologize, n’ I also apologize for what I’m about to do-” He gasps over your soft yelp, before wrapping two warm hands around the small of your waist. Searing. Soft. Planting you softly on the firm floor like some lil’ ragdoll, “-but I can’t let you put yourself in danger this way.”

Before you know it, you’re back in the safety of the ground. Stood right in front of a determined Nanami as he cranes his head up in your stuffy kitchen, backed up against the counter as he takes over looking for your wallet. 

“Let me, instead.” he grunts. 

But oh even with how genius he thought it was to look instead - even with how he stopped himself from looking at that sinful little slice of heaven - Nanami Kento had another problem. 

A problem that presented itself in the way that your body was pressed flush against his muscled chest, two of your thighs straddling his thick ones. Caged perfectly against him, exactly in the way he shouldn’t have been imagining - but did, anyway. And shit if he angled his body just right he could feel the heat of your core - the way your eager front was drawing in closer. 

“Ah-” he grunts when your soft palm glides lightly across his pecs. Jaw clenching while he tries to blink his hazy eyes back into the glaringly empty top of your cabinets, “My apologies, seems uh- your wallet isn’t- here-” 

Each word is wrenching out of his pretty, worry-bitten lips, a ragged gasp with every accidental brush of the pads of your fingers at the hem of his tight pants. 

“It isn’t there, hm?” you purr, a low honeyed tone that has all the blood in Nanami’s body rushing to his fat cock. “Well what do you suppose we do about that, Ken? Since I can’t pay the rent?”

Nanami doesn’t know whether you’re talking about the rent or that massive tent in his pants he really couldn’t explain away. Instead, he spits, “You knew what you were hah- doing, didn’t you, you lil’ minx? You don’t have your fuckin’ wallet here.”

And the air is so thick, so heady that he can only bring himself to pull away mere millimeters from where he was hovering near your face. 

But even that was too much - and in a split-second, you have your deft fingers wrapped tightly around his speckled tie. “And if I did?” Pulling close enough to ghost your lips against his, “You’re smart, Ken. So m’asking once again, what do you suppose we do about that?”

As if to draw out the answer from him, you’re giving a long, hard drag of your hot cunt along the outline of his swollen cock. You could almost feel every throb and nudge of his veins along the side, and it made you salivate.

“I suppose…” he answers, guttural, like some dark, primal part of himself is peaking its head out with each hot breath fanning your face. A large hand coming up to squish your cheeks into a pretty pout, pursing your lips perfectly for him. “That you hit me if you don’t like this, darling.”

And fuck for all how much of a gentleman Nanami acted - he kissed the exact opposite. All but ruining your lips in such a messy clash of teeth and tongue and him. Devouring you. 

“Fuck- shoulda known.” he’s letting out a humorless laugh, swiping his tongue across your glossy lower lips. “Should’ve known when you invited me in. Such a tease.” Drinking in your breathless moans, sucking on your tongue, “Such a- ngh- horny lil’ thing. This what you wanted all along?”

You hum into the kiss so drunk, “Maybe.” Dancing your hands all across where his toned muscles were fighting against the restraints of his shirt, “But you really can’t blame me.”

And maybe it was true - maybe this was inevitable. Either way, Nanami didn’t know, nor did he really care - not when you were letting out such sweet gasps when he bites down on your bottom lip - just a little punishment. Kissing his way down your heated skin, giving a languid lick at where he suspected that secret sensitive spot on your neck would be. 

“Oh! Ken.” you moan. Bingo. 

He’s unbuttoned his shirt now - or maybe it was you. Fuck, either way you couldn’t tear your eyes off of his pretty washboard abs. Curving and dipping like he was sculpted meticulously. 

And that’s all it takes for your already-dripping cunt to grow impossibly wetter, and he could feel it leaking through those flimsy cotton shorts of yours. Forming a messy sheen right at that damp spot of precum on his pants.

“You’re so fuckin’ wet, my love.” Nanami murmurs, swiping a thumb down that sopping wet slit of yours through your shorts. Just marveling at the way that simple touch makes another wave of your sweet sweet juices bead through the fabric. “Hah, absolutely dripping. This all f’me?”

At your half-delirious nod, he flashes you a smile so handsome that it only makes you squirm more impatiently. “How sweet.” Giving your nose a chaste peck, “So good to me. So needy.”

“You’re the same, though.” you accuse, hotly.

And it’s true - Nanami couldn’t deny the aching need of his cock, the way he all but moans in response, “Then tell me- hngh tell me what you want. I’ll give you- anything-” Managing to get out through hot, sloppy kisses planted right on your wobbly lips, “-anything.”

But, ah, you always did manage to surprise him. And instead of an answer, you’re getting right down on your knees in front of him like you did not too long ago - though, this time, you’re reaching up to fumble with his belt. 

“Wan’ taste you.” you huff when his expensive notches prove too stubborn. “Wan’ feel you in my mouth so bad, Ken.” 

“Oh yeah?” he chuckles darkly, easily loosening his belt and his pants along with it. Rock-hard cock sensitive and just smearing a pool of precum where his fat head springs up to hit your lips. Such a pretty shade of gloss. Nanami laces his hand on your scalp to guide you forwards, slowly, “Then take it. Take it f’me, pretty.”

He was so pretty that you possibly couldn’t not - a delicate blushing red at his very tip, glistening and absolutely soaked in precum down the long path to his creamy base, his heavy balls. So girthy that it made your cunt clench in anticipation.

And then there’s no more talking. Hell, you barely get enough time to admire Nanami’s massive cock before he’s bullying it between your lips. Wetting his thick, angry tip with your saliva, just enough to eye down at the way your lips bulge so prettily around him. 

“Gonna hafta open w-wider if you wanna take me, pretty. Open hah- yeah jus’ like that.” He’s reeling your head back, all the way till you were just kissing at his thick, angry tip. “Now spit on it, my love.”

Despite being the one to say it, Nanami’s mouth drops into a fucked-out little oh! of disbelief when you’re readily decorating his swollen length with a steady stream of spit. Your soft palms smearing the saliva along his length. 

You’re slurring, “After all, I still haven’t found my wallet, right?”

And oh he doesn’t even have to ask for what comes next - doesn’t even have to make a noise. 

Immediately, you take him in inch by fucking inch. The deliciously salty twang taking over your senses, and he’s so hot and heavy over your tongue. Veins pulsing in a dizzyingly throb! throb! throb! against the roof of your mouth.

“Are you- are you sure you can-” You shut up his doubts by rubbing your hot tongue along every sensitive ridge you could reach. Bobbing your head at a quick, ruthless little pace to milk his pretty cock for all he’s worth. 

Nanami’s eyes roll to the back of his head. Was this what heaven felt like? 

“F-fuuuck, oh you-” his words are catching in his throat with each flick of the tip of your tongue against his sensitive slit. Just the way he liked it. “-ngh guess that sharp mouth of yours wasn’t just hah- good for teasing, huh?”

He’s running his mouth a mile a minute - the complete opposite of the reserved man that’d come knocking on your door. Hips grinding up into your warm tongue mindlessly, slow. Languid - like he didn’t even realize what he was doing. “Oh you feel so heavenly- so fuckin’ good it should be illegal.”

You can’t help but bat your teary eyes up at him in response, blinking away the lustful haze to drink in that utterly obscene sight above you. Nanami’s neat, blond hair uncharacteristically disheveled, stray strands sticking to his furrowed brow. Only deepening with each wrecked sigh that leaves his plump lips every time his abs flex with the movement of his fat head hitting the gummy back of your throat. 

He looks so pretty it makes you moan. 

Those electric vibrations going all the way down that wet divot on the tip of Nanami’s painfully hard cock to his heavy balls. 

“Oh shit- shit shit shit feels too good.” his words are slurring together, drunk off the way you gag around him. “Don’t do that don’t-” This only makes you drag your sloppy mouth down him deeper, syrupy moans sticking to

him all the while. 

“Fuck!” Nanami shudders. And he’s pulling you down - hard - barely letting you get a feverish little breath out until your nose is hitting the neat patch of blond at his base. Rubbing up against his toned pelvis. 

Still moving in deep, relentless thrusts inside your gummy cavern. “S’real fuckin’ hard to treat you as nice as I want when you act like that, my love.”

And, of course, the only response he gets are your pathetic, wet gurgles as you take him in faster. Cheeks hollowing to massaging his every sweet spot. Your jaw grinding against his twitching balls with each smack of his hypnotized hips against your mouth, fucking into you the way he wished he could do with your cunt. Frenzied. Sloppy. 

Yeah, this was heaven alright - but you were the fuckin’ devil. 

Of course, you wanted him to treat you like such a slut - so he does. 

Just dragging your stubborn mouth off of his twitching cock, Nanami only reaches down to place an accomplished peck on the pout of your mouth before hoisting you onto the counter. “What? You think I’d really ngh- cum before my darling girl?”

He’s groaning into your mouth, licking at the seam of your candied lips as two strong arms of his spread your legs so far apart it burned. “F-fuck, Ken-”

“Aw look. You’ve got another slutty pair, huh?” he gestures down at the drenched scrap of fabric you so proudly called “panties.” Sliding a thumb underneath to glide it underneath your puffy pussy lips. He’s echoing your sentiment from before, “Said you can’t find your hah- wallet, right?” Well, ya better start makin’ up for that now.”

In all of two seconds, Nanami’s hooking two fingers over your underwear - pulling - ripping. He was right -  Nanami takes a moment to admire your dripping cunt, glistening and needy for him - he could rip those panties right off of you. 

With just one hand pinning you to the cool marble of your counter, the other thumbing open your puffy folds, he’s giving all of your pussy a hot, open-mouthed kiss. 

“Mmm fuck-” he spits into your sloppy hole. Once. Twice. Letting it form a saturated little pool of your juices, before surging back nose-deep with a pained grunt. Again. And again. And again and again- “Jus’ as sweet- as sugary sweet ngh-”

Nanami didn’t think Higuruma knew about this little treasure trove when describing you - though, if he did, then he was well and fully intent on tongue-fucking every little thought out of him right now. 

“Hngh! Shit-” you’re keening when his greedy tongue laps up every bit of your syrupy sweet slick. Alternating - methodically, indecisively - between rolling over your throbbing clit and just dipping into your awaiting entrance. “It feels so- so good, Ken.”

“Yeah that’s right.” he gasps, wrapping those pretty pink lips of his to suck on your clit. Harsh. “Say my name- no, louder. Louder.” 

It’s all you can do to not just scream out his name without your neighbors filing a noise complaint. Dragging your sopping pussy all over his mouth - glistening and obscene right down the bottom half of his face all the way up to smear against his clear glasses. 

Such obscene squelches ring through your kitchen as Nanami keeps making out so messily with your sensitive nub. Ringing in your fucked-out brain, so obscene, so addictive that you barely even register the thick fingers dipping their way around your hole. 

You jolt when the cool metal of his glasses kiss your skin, “O-oh Ken what-” 

“Shhh shhh, darling.” he soothes. The tip of his manicured index circling around your elastic muscle. Hypnotic. “M’gonna take care of you. Gonna take such good-” With this, he’s bullying his fingers inside, “-care of you.”

Tears crinkle at the corners of your eyes at the sheer stimulation. Because for how sweet Nanami was talking you through this, he was absolutely ruthless on your cunt. Not half the man he was this morning - animalistic. Feral, even.

His sharp jaw grinding against your skin, fingers almost a blur with how depraved they were pumping in and out of you. Massaging every hidden corner of your plushy walls, yet you get the feeling that they were calculated. Nanami’s darkened eyes drinking in every whimper and twitch of your body over the glasses inching dangerously downwards. Searching, waiting for that one-

“Ngh!” You worry you’d have fallen off the counter if it wasn’t for Nanami holding you down. Body jolting at sudden electricity running through your veins, “Oh- fuck fuck fuck. Oh my god Ken, there. Right there–”

But before the sentence has even left your heavy lips, he’s hitting your g-spot once more. Easily finding the bullseye that has you bucking and arching into his mouth like such a slut. 

And this time - Nanami lets you use his mouth all you want. The fingers splayed out to pin you down moves to toy with your puffy clit. Rolling between his fingers while he hisses out syrupy sweet praises, “Shit, never liked m’name that much- ngh- but it sounds so pretty on your lips. So sweet. So- oh-” 

The sight of your cunt just beading with need has him kissing it once more. All over your sensitive nub, your ravaged hole, hell, even down to the mess of slick dripping down at your thighs. Faster. Sloppier. No rhythm or rhyme anymore. 

“M’so close.” you whine, weaving your fingers through his blond hair to help ride his face easier. Jolting with each purposeful flick of his tongue. “Gonna cum, Ken.”

“Cum then.” he answers, simply, grinning a guiltily glossy grin, “You’ve got a lot to make up for, right?”

And then you do - stars behind your eyes and that little nickname you’d made Nanami in your mouth. Over and over while he tonguefucks you through your high. 

“Fuck- fuck fuck fuck–” you whine, big fat tears rolling down your cheeks eat time he swiped at your sensitive spots, dragging it out longer. Until your soft whimpers were drowning out the squelches from below. Until you were blinking your spotty vision back. Until you were squirming your hips higher up the counter to pull away from Nanami’s unforgiving tactics. “M’too sensitive- Nana-”

He tuts, interrupting your orgasm-drunk babbles, “Tha’s not what you call me.” Pulling away just enough to hum, “All I did was eat this pretty cunt out, darling n’ you already forgot my name?”

You shiver - both at his mean little tone and the absolutely sinful sight between your shaky thighs. Nanami’s lips plump and irritated, eyes foggy - glasses even more so with all the sloppy dredges of spit and your slick.

Shit, you think he’s never looked prettier. 

“Is that so?”

It’s all you hear before you’re hit with his glasses being gently placed onto your nose bridge - followed shortly by the realization that oh, you said that out loud. But Nanami basks in your sudden shyness, giving your lips a chaste, lingering peck. “You dirtied my glasses, y’know. Now you have to make up for that on top of the rent.”

And by the feeling of his thick tip kissing at your pussy lips, you had a very good idea about how you’d be making up for it. Making a mess. Sliding the curve of his head up and down. Up and down up and down up and-

“B-but don’t forget.” you manage to grit out by the time he’s nudging his divot against your clit. “You have to make- hah- make up for-” 

In a fluid motion, you’re reaching your fingers to dig into the irresistible tan skin at his hips, all hard muscle and the thick fabric of where he’d pulled his pants down just enough. You press down on his bulging back pocket, smirk growing at the familiar flash of hot pink you could spy, “-my panties.”

The moment the obscene little accusation leaves your lips, you give a soft tug forwards. Nanami’s towering body being pulled easily to push his weeping tip past your puffy folds. 

“F-fuck.” he’s throwing his head back at the feeling. “You hngh- saw, huh?”

Oh, if he hadn’t been imagining this the moment he’d stepped inside your apartment then Nanami thinks he might’ve just passed out right then and there. 

Because you were so warm, so addictive wrapped around his cock - even when he’s barely even in. That he just has to keep going - after all, it’s for the rent, right?

It’s what he likes to think.

It’s what he whispers - over and over into your open mouth as he bullies his thick cock past your gummy entrance. Letting your plush walls suck the ever-loving soul out of him with each lazy, lingering grind just to fit himself inside. 

“O-oh! Shit-” your nails leave jagged red marks down Nanami’s broad shoulders when he stuffs you full. Desperate. “Y-you’re so big, Ken–” 

At this, you feel Nanami’s girth grow even wider, stretching your walls until it felt like he was molding your poor pussy to the shape. Just reaching into your lungs. You squeal, “Wait- you got bigger- what-”

“I know I know, You got it, my love.” he’s soothing your cries with sugary kisses at the corners of your mouth. Drawing slow, methodical circles on your clit in time with his experimental thrusts. “You got it. You can take it. Shhh shh-” He’s drinking in your cute mewls, cupping your pretty face with his free hand, “You’ll take it right? All of it, like my good girl? You’ve gotta make up for it, right?” At your delirious nod, “Words, pretty.”

“Yes, please.” You buck your hips in a sultry tandem matching his, the cool frame of his glasses still kissing at your skin. “M’gonna take it all like your good girl, Ken.”

Shit, he can feel himself growing even bigger just halfway into you, “Then-” Angling your teary face down to watch the mess down below. The way your greedy cunt was trying to milk each and every inch of him like it was delicious. “-look.”

You can’t tear your eyes away as he delves into you so filthy. 

Not waiting for your pathetic whines about him being “too big” - no, Nanami’s only pulling you back from escaping like some sextoy - his favorite one. Still toying sweetly with your clit while he pushes against that feeble ring of resistance. Once. Twice. Thrice. 

“Ken!” you’re yelping out when he finally bottoms out. Your swollen folds meeting his drenched hilt, blond tufts of hair brushing up against your pelvis. Sighing, ”Finally.”

“Finally?” he’s dragging out his words with an already-crooked, pussydrunk grin. Eyes wild - bewildered almost at how well you were taking him. “S-seriously? Did you say ngh- ‘finally’, my girl?” Each word has him tapping more strength behind those thrusts, faster. Harder. Spitting out so contendly, “Finally- hah. Such a slut f’me, hm?”

He’s plunging into you like such an animal right now, so harsh that it was almost difficult to pull back. To dare subject himself to not be buried inside your dripping cunt for even a split-second. 

In response, you lick a long stripe up the sensitive area of his neck, splaying out a hand to squeeze Nanami’s pec - and the rapid heartbeat you felt beneath it. “You’re not- ngh- any better.”

“I know.” Nanami leers, unabashedly kneading at your sore tits now. Fucking you harder and harder into the counter. Connecting his sweaty forehead with yours to look you right in the eyes as he gruffs, “I’ve been thinking about fucking this pretty cunt as soon as you opened that door, y’know.”

You feel his cock twitch wildly at the confession, dragging against your gummy walls with his tip. Hitting - oh-so-expertly - that one sensitive honeypot of nerves. Which makes Nanami’s mouth fall slack with what a treasure you were. 

“Y-you’re such a-” you’re moans are syrupy and slurring together now. Holding onto the larger man for dear life, “such a pervert, Ken.”

Shit, you were squeezing around him so hard that it was almost impossible to pull out. Abs straining to keep up the loud staccato of skin-against-skin, and Nanami’s long, jagged rams inside your wet heaven.

Nanami’s nosing down your pulse, letting his hot tongue loll out to catch the salty drops of your tears, “Mhm, only for hngh- you. Because you’re my girl now, aren’t ya?”

So easy for him to trawl out those addictive moans with each drag of the upwards curve of his fat cock. Thick tip hitting your g-spot, your cervix - as if he was branding his name into your pretty pussy from the inside. Sloppy. 

Leaving a bruising little Kento. With his erratic fingers pinching and rolling your clit at the same feverish tempo of his cock bullying inside your cunt - Kento. With his heavy balls smacking against your ass, sending jolts of white-hot pleasure all the way up to his sensitive slit, rubbing up against your succubus walls - Kento. With the way your heels were now digging into those dimples at the bottom of his spine, sure to leave marks with the way you were pulling him impossibly closer. So needy - Kento.

Only getting sloppier. The only thing in your mind right now - Kento Kento Kento-

So, really, it makes sense when that’s the only thing you’re capable of getting out once you cum. It sneaks up on you at first, and then all at once - and before you know it, you’re cumming so desperately all over Nanami’s relentless cock. 

Over and over.

Your thighs spasming, such a slutty ah! ah! ah! leaving your mouth with each wave of pleasure he’s forcing out of you by targeting your ravaged g-spot. Only a few more of those sloppy, mean thrusts left in the man himself before Nanami’s spilling into your greedy cunt. 

Painting your gummy walls white with each painful squeeze of his balls, he’s still thrusting - as if on instinct. Shoving his seed deeper and deeper down your cum-filled hole until he’s sure it’s overfilled. 

By god were you a vision, he’s thinking deliriously. Tears pooling at your eyes, drool dripping down the corner of your mouth, throat to shoot to do anything but whimper when he keeps going in and out in and out in and-

And if he angled his head just right, he could see the hot globs of cum that take to trickling out from your puffy folds, pooling at a mouthwateringly creamy base around his hilt.

“Ah,” Nanami wastes no time squeezing his index into your already-bulging entrance, pumping the cum slobbering out back in. “Better- hah- better not waste any-” He could barely speak right now, cumming harder than he has in his whole life - in fact, his overworked cock was still shooting out wispy spurts of his seed. Like he couldn’t stop. “-after all, y’haven’t made up for all the overdue rent yet, my love.”

A/N. Concept inspired by this NSFW audio by IchigekiVA that my friend sent me <3

Plagiarism of work not authorized.

[blond3ang3l]

⋱♱⋰ ⋱✮⋰ ⋱♱⋰ ⋱✮⋰ ⋱♱⋰⋱♱⋰ ⋱✮⋰ ⋱⋰

“There it is pretty. Daddy found your spot didn’t he?” Your headed nodded in response to the condescending tone of the much older man.

Butcher was by far your favorite client of the strip club you worked at. He always came in looking so damn good. Tipped you really well too! Always leaving you a thousand dollars minimum a night when he came. He was your regular for the past few months and that man treated you way better than your boyfriend did.

It was obvious how badly the older man craved you, and you were just teasing him every time he saw you walking around in those skimpy costumes. He would deal with you whine and complain on how mean your boyfriend was all the time. In his eyes your boyfriend was an idiot for not realizing what he had in front of him.

But none of that mattered when you shook your ass for him at the end of the day. You had his ass mesmerized every single time no matter what. He never followed the no touching rule for clients, always grabbing and slapping your ass. Hell he even pulled you on to his lap for a lap dance more times than you can count. His hands stayed on you. But there had been a few instances of them being a little bit wandering while you danced for him. Who were you to deny the man though? He was sexy and gave you money like it was nothing so no point of complaining.

You weren’t supposed to be doing this. You could get in trouble if your boss caught you getting fucked dumb in one of the private rooms, but the way Butcher was stretching you out made you forget ll of that. His hands griped your ass helping you bounce on his thick dick. Your lipstick was all over his face from you kissing and clinging to him.

His hand grabbed your face pulling you into a messy kiss. Barely even a kiss since you were moaning and whining against his lips the entire time. With your nails digging into his shoulders he let out a deep grunt before pulling away. You were too perfect, a better fuck than anyone he's ever been with before.

His hand pushed the little mini skirt you wore up and out of the way. He turned you around and lifted your chubby frame up like it was nothing, basically folding you in half its your knees pushed up your chest before he started fucking into you once more. With your back to his chest your head lulled back as he took control. “Daddy.” Was all you could whine out while the man fucked any sense you had out of your head.

“I know baby. Your lil boyfriend don’t give you this type of fucking does he?" Your head shook giving the man the answer he already figured. With the way you were squeezing him he wasn't shocked in the slightest. "More. Please 'm so close daddy." Your words practically made his eyes roll back. Hearing how desperate you were for him only made him pick up his pace. He grunted as he felt your grip on him tighten as you came, his hips slowing down before cumming deep inside you.

As far as he was concerned you were all his. Your "boyfriend" and job was going to be easy to get rid of. No way was he gonna lose his favorite little stripper. He would just have to make you into his own personal doll. And with how you were clinging to him at that moment it seems that won't be hard for him at all.

⋱♱⋰ ⋱✮⋰ ⋱♱⋰ ⋱✮⋰ ⋱♱⋰⋱♱⋰ ⋱✮⋰ ⋱⋰

[deepspaceboytoy]

Since the start of this most recent, brutal war on Gaza, the US has been a key supplier of the weapons and parts the IOF relies on to bombard Gaza indiscriminately. Air strikes are carried out with US-made JDAMs and bombs, artillery strikes with US-made shells, and even just the maintenance of Israel’s war machines relies heavily on US aid. The ongoing genocide would not be possible without the ongoing, unwavering support of American presidential administrations from both parties, unfortunately paid for with our tax dollars.

These weapons have been used to terrorize, brutalize, and bombard Gaza’s people now for nearly two years, and I know it can feel hopeless thinking about the scale of the resources being thrown at this genocide, and infuriating to think those resources are being paid for with money you absolutely did not want to be used for this. Luckily, there are ways you can help, and families who could use money if you want what you earn to go towards people deserving of it, instead of a colonial war machine. Families like Ghada @ghadaanqar9’s, who are so close to their goal (less than a thousand dollars away). Sending just a little bit can help mitigate the harm being done to her and her family, good, innocent people who have just as much a right to life as me and you. I’ve made a few posts now for Ghada, and every time I speak with her she remains the kindest, most patient person I’ve known, and I cannot tell you how happy I would be knowing that her campaign finally reached its goal. Our government has decided that spending our tax dollars on genocide is in its interest, so consider alleviating just a little bit of that harm by sending a donation to someone so much more worthy of our support.

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[astraystayyh]

please fall before i fall

jeongin x reader. best friends to lovers. they think it's unrequited love so a bit of angst. but they're just idiots. happy ending :))

summary : 3 times you saved jeongin's ass and the 1 time he saved yours (and ended up confessing along the way). holidays themed.

winter falls masterlist.

a.n. : i am very happy to finally post my first fic for the winter falls collab with my author xi hehehehhe i hope you'll enjoy this one <333 it's very light and fluffy she's the cute one!! oh and my song rec is i bet on losing dogs by mitski

One. 

Jeongin’s thumb hovers over your contact name, his rosy lip pulled tightly between his teeth. He hesitates for a few seconds before finally dialing your number. 

“What do you want?” you start which makes an incredulous snort escape his lips, a gust of powdery air materializing before his mouth from the cold. 

“How much do I have to pay you for you to come over?” 

“Ten thousand dollars. Cash,” you precise as he mouths along to what you say, already guessing what your next words would be. 

He's come to know you at an abhorrent speed these past few months; since you sat right next to him in your biology class, head buried in an oversized navy hoodie. Your perfume knocked into him like a gentle breeze— Sicilian lemon and white bouquet notes, nostalgic summer amid an unforgiven autumn. Memories of sticky fingers from molten ice cream and feet soles meeting the warm sand wafted in the air, alluring him to the kindness of a long-gone summer, you. 

That is why he talked to you at first, because you smelled nice, incredibly so. He tells you it's because he liked the pair of shoes you were wearing. 

“What if I brought you your favorite coffee?”

“Are you outside my dorm?” you squeal and he imagines you must be scrambling to get up, opening the curtains. He knows he's right as your figure materializes behind the window. “Hi,” you wave, a small giggle escaping your lips. He can't help the fond smile that draws upon his lips. 

He thinks he likes you a little. 

“Hey, please help me wrap my family’s gifts,” he pouts, waving the coffee in the air. Your order that he memorized by heart, not even meaning to, it was just natural for him to order you coffee every day, to remember your preferences as if they were his own. 

“Why are you here if we're going to your dorm anyways?” you laugh, leaning against the window. 

“Because I know I need to bribe you,” he sighs, angling his head to the side. “Are you not going to hang up and come downstairs? The coffee will grow cold.”

“I’m coming!”

An hour later, four gifts are resting beside Jeongin's figure, perfectly wrapped thanks to your skilled hands. He's lying on the warmed tiles, and you're right beside him, so close your knee brushes against his thigh now and then. 

He is keeping count, well, more so his heart, constricting in his lungs each time you touch. 

He's so aware of you, so much he's sure you’ve crawled into his skin, morphing him into nothing but a shell of you. 

Perhaps he likes you a lot. 

“You're an insane man. Who leaves gift wrapping to the last minute?”

“You're best friends with said insane man.” 

“Remind me how did that happen again?” you ask, propping your head on your elbow, and turning to the side to look at him. Jeongin has to pretend that the sight of you hovering over him doesn't affect him. That his eyes aren't drawn to your lips, heart dissolving at your feet, hoping to brush against your own. 

Please fall before I fall, he nearly pleads.

“Why are you so close,” he feigns disgust, pushing your face away with his pointer finger. 

“What? Does that fluster you?” you question, amused, bringing your face even closer to his. He scrambles away before a blush sprouts on his face, one he wouldn't be able to justify to your scrutinizing gaze. 

“As if. You're ugly,” his eyes squint, lips thinning into that particular smile he knows annoys you. He moves to the side swiftly, anticipating the shoe you throw at him.

“You're literally— remind me to never help you again, asshole.”

“I'm kidding. Thank you for today, seriously. I didn't know wrapping gifts could be this hard.” He falls back to the floor dramatically, banging his head against the tiles in the process.

“Well deserved,” you whisper. 

“I heard that.”

“Good,” you giggle, before gently massaging the spot where he has bumped his head. He purses his lips against one another, afraid of what words might escape the confines of his throat, vocal cords moving to the gentle rhythm of your touch. 

“Will you keep on being this clumsy, Innie? mm?” you muse, tone quieter. 

The nickname makes his insides churn, it is always so tender when it falls from your lips. No one has ever called him this softly before. No one has ever called his heart before you. 

He shouldn't be this clumsy with it. It is a fragile organ, akin to glass, easily breakable, so translucent— it'd be easy for anyone to peer inside and find you in it. 

“Yeah, I probably will.”

He'll stop liking you next year. He hopes. He'll try. 

Two.

Next year has come, familiar frigid winds pulling you to Jeongin’s heart, perhaps even more so than before, cementing your being into the nooks and crannies of his soul, perfectly so, as if it was destined for you alone to fill the emptiness inside him. 

Seasons have changed and yet summer remains, its essence stored safely within the notes of your perfume, it tickles his nose as you're seated on the countertop, legs swinging lazily while he scouts through his fridge. 

“Remind me why we're doing this again?”

“Because I made a bet with Yoon.”

“Your sixteen years old brother?”

“Yes.”

“You are in college.”

“I know.”

“Why are you taking it to heart?” 

“Because I have my pride,” he says solemnly, hand on his heart and you roll your eyes. 

“You literally begged at my feet fifteen minutes ago to help you.”

A year later, Jeongin stood beneath your window once again, phone brought up to his ear, hand hidden behind his back. You pick up on the first ring. 

“Look out the window,” he quickly says before you can even speak. 

“Hello, Y/n, how are you, Y/n, are you surviving with the cold—” you say sarcastically as you pull the curtains, the words dissolving in your tongue as he brings a single flower before him— you recognize its pink petals easily, Camellia, the rose of winter.

“I did not have time for coffee, but I plucked this off the sidewalk,” he offers, an amused grin on his face. “Help me bake cookies, pretty please, I'll be forever indebted to you. Forever and ever and ever and ever—”

“This is such a poor rendition of Romeo and Juliet, I'm afraid Shakespeare is suffering in his grave right now.”

“Do you think he knows of every theater play that was done to his story?” Jeongin muses.

“That's a good question actually. I hope he didn't see mine,” you shudder before your face pales. 

“You did not tell me you ever did that!”

“I'll bake your cookies and you'll never bring this up again.”

“Deal. My Juliet,” he smirks and you throw a middle finger aggressively to his face before hanging up. He shouldn't find it as endearing as he does.

“Because, my dear Y/n, this is my holiday reputation at stake. I kind of raised the bar last year with my gift wrapping.”

“You did?” you raise an eyebrow promptly at his words and he sighs, taking out the butter before leaning against the fridge.

“We did. Which is exactly why I need your help again. Imagine how embarrassing it would be if Yoon wins,” he shudders and a giggle finally escapes your lips.

The kitchen warms up at the sight of your smile.

“It's cute when you need me once in a while,” you say nonchalantly, hopping off the counter and moving to wash your hands. Jeongin freezes in his place.

“I always need you though,” he confesses quickly, swallowing the words, hoping that this way you wouldn't be able to taste the sincerity coating them, sticky honey dripping from his tongue whenever it speaks of you.

“Good thing you'll always have me then,” you beam, your words hanging into the air, oxygen suddenly harder to inhale.

“Gross,” he fakes a shiver, as his heart drops in his chest, breaks, and twists at the weight your words carry.

He'll always have you, but not in the way he wants to, your eyes would never soften at the mere mention of his name, and you won't think that a season blooms into every room he is in. He has you, but just a fragment of you, not how you have him, as a whole, heart, body, and soul. 

He's already fallen, a terrible, terrible fall.

“Will you help me or just stare off into the distance?” you ask, tilting your head to the side. He smiles bashfully, rolling his sleeves and sidling by your side to mix in the eggs, one by one, per your instructions. 

It smells nice in the kitchen, the caramelized fragrance of browned butter, sweetened by the sugar dissolving into the warm liquid. Tentative sunlight streams through the window, and it falls perfectly on Jeongin's face, highlighting his sharp features. 

Not that jeongin needs any additional light, he reminds you of spring, a flower blooming on his face each time he smiles, his dimples two youthful fountains the roots strive from, brightening his face even more. 

He tentatively glances at you as he adds the chocolate chips to the mix, only to find you staring forward. He misses the fond look on your face by a few seconds, the tinting of your features with soft hues of pink, of spring, of him. He always misses it, always misses you. 

Three.

"I can't believe you have 37 pairs of shoes but not one nice shirt.”

“It's 36, please count correctly,” Jeongin retaliates and you snort, flopping around in bed till you land on your stomach, chin propped up by your hand. Jeongin is still rummaging through his closet, head almost disappearing into the dark void of his wardrobe. 

“What do you need this for anyway?” you question, as you scroll through your phone mindlessly. Jeongin’s eerie silence causes you to look up. 

“Um. I have a date tonight.”

“Oh.” 

His words hang over the room like a heavy cloak soaked with rain, the oxygen sucked out of your lungs and ensnared within that singular gasp.

Jeongin swiftly turns around, before kneeling beside the bed, eyes brimming with a hopeless search— you are too focused on steadying your breathing to notice.

“Should I go?”

“I mean… Why are you asking me?”

“If you don't want me to, I won't,” he speaks in an overflowing sincerity, as though he'd willingly surrender the reins of his life for you to guide, should you only dare to ask. 

A breath, a pause, and he adds, “In case you'll be lonely tonight.” Your hope deflates in an instant, akin to a birthday balloon tossed into the careless hands of children. 

Pity, that's what he feels for someone who hasn't had a date in a year while he went on ones regularly. Although they never transcended beyond that first meeting, always a first date, never a second. He says none of the people he meets are his type. 

“I have a date too.” It was the truth, Suhoo had told you to meet him at the ice rink. You said you'd think about it. You knew deep down that your answer would be no, solely because he isn't Jeongin.

Perhaps it is too late for him to fall for you.  

“Really?” 

“Yeah, with Suhoo, you know, the guy in our Economics class.”

“He's nice.”

“Mm.” 

Could you lose something you never had in the first place?

“You should wear Seungmin’s white shirt.” 

“Yeah. That's what I thought too.”

“And bring them flowers. The rose of winter, maybe.” 

You had preserved the plucked flower he gave you in a vase. The pink of the petals liquefying and bleeding into the blush on Jeongin’s cheeks once he noticed. 

“That one's just for you.” 

Four. 

You're alone on the ice rink, the frigid winds assail your form, fingers numb from winter's cruel grasp. Suhoo didn't come after all, perhaps he was offended by you calling him at the last minute to confirm your date.

The chill of disappointment is more biting than the frost— you want to melt off the ice, you want your spring. You want your Jeongin. 

But he isn't yours, perhaps he will never be. He is too sought after, too captivated by the fleeting chase of someone new to spare a glance at you. 

But in this instant, you need him. You need him to hold your hands in his larger, warmer ones and get you off the ice rink. You need the sight of his familiar dimples and blooming smile. 

So, you call him. He picks up on the first ring. 

“Are you that bored on your date?” He playfully taunts, and his voice becomes a gentle breeze that stirs the emotions you struggle to contain. Tears cascade down your cheeks in an achingly familiar path. 

“I-Innie,” you hiccup, and you’re instantly met with the sound of scraping chairs against the floor, the hastening cadence of footsteps hurrying out into the street. 

“Did he do something to you?” He speaks so coldly, a tone so foreign to the warmth of your Jeongin. He shouldn't be tainted with winter too. 

“He didn't come. Can you p-please pick me up?” 

“I will. I'm coming in a bit, okay?” 

He finds you rather quickly on the ice rink, a sore thumb unmoving between the gliding bodies. He skates over to you, almost falling twice in the process. 

“You're so clumsy,” you snort as he stands before you, sobs racking through your body once more at the sight of him.

You weren't mad at Suhoo. You were heartbroken over Jeongin.

“I'll beat him up for you. I'll tell Changbin to help me too,” he smiles, hands fidgeting as they land upon your cheeks, trying their best to wipe away your tears.

“Please don't cry. I hate seeing you cry, Y/n, I really can't bear it." The tears only fall harder at his words, as if he's stringing them forth with each touch of his.

“Did he do something to you?” an unknown voice startles you and you turn to your right to find a girl looking at you then at Jeongin, a frown etched on her eyebrows.

“No, I'm her friend I didn't-”

“I wasn't talking to you,” the girl cuts him off and you laugh despite you, as Jeongin’s jaw hangs open, before closing once more.

“It's not him, thank you so much though,” you smile gratefully and she nods, eyes wary as she glares at Jeongin one last time, before skating away.

“I can't believe that just happened,” He exhales, a breath tinged with bewilderment, before he delicately encircles a hand around your back. Gently, he guides your head to rest against the comforting refuge of his chest.

“What are you doing?” you mumble against his navy hoodie, the one he borrowed from you. You can still smell your perfume on him. 

“I'm comforting you.” 

“You don't like hugs.” 

“It's different when it comes to you.”

You close your eyes, allowing the tide of his warmth to envelop you like a cascade of spring petals.

“Where is your date?”

“I didn't go.”

“Why is that?”

“Because I love you. I'm tired of looking for you in other people,” he quickly says and you peel yourself away from him, feeling as if his clothes were suddenly made of fire. 

“What?” you whisper, eyes glistening with unshed tears.

“I love you,” he repeats, each word drawn out, much slower this time, his hands cradling your face, tenderly, as though holding the sun between his delicate fingers. “I'm tired of pretending you're not my summer.”

“Don't say things you don't mean,” your voice wavers. 

“I mean it. I've always loved you. You complete me in ways I didn't know were possible, and I know you only see me as a friend but-”

Your lips press against his, a culmination of aching desires that have lingered for two years. Distant laughter echoes in the background, ice cream melting onto your fingers, a soft breeze ruffling your hair, flowers blooming under the soft caress of the sun— two seasons melting sweetly into the kiss.

“You're literally so blind,” you giggle against his lips, and his smile widens, your noses brushing against one another. “I love you too, idiot.”

“You love me?”

“You're my favorite season.” 

“Don't steal my lines.”

“Hey—” he kisses you this time, the winter is long forgotten. 

Was it ever a fall if you caught him in the end?

[pineconepie]

I've really rushed this, but I hope this is good!! ^^

TW: Angry Cullen towards reader, yelling, mentioned kidnapping, slight forced infantilization, platonic yanderes

...

It's been a while since you arrived at August and Cullen's house.

At first you enjoyed getting spoiled by your fathers, but now it's getting overwhelming, especially when they hover over you all the time. It doesn't help that they don't like letting you leave the house. You need a moment alone.

So, when Cullen leaves for work for the afternoon and August busies himself with baking cookies in the kitchen, you decide to sneak off.

Since it's a Thursday night, there shouldn't be too many people out and about; however, you can still avoid any possible crowds if you can manage to find an empty store somewhere. Just for a piece of mind.

It's been so long since you were able to go anywhere with your captors, you just want a taste of freedom, even if its brief.

You glance over at August, who's still busy making his cookies. Then, you begin tiptoeing down the hallway. Careful not to make a noise, you slowly grab your hoodie from the coat rack, slipping it over your head.

Just as carefully, you grab your shoes from beside the front door and slip them onto your feet.

Hesitantly, you reach for the doorknob. But before you touch it, you glance behind you to double-check and see if August somehow managed to catch wind of you leaving despite how quiet you've been thus far.

But August is still humming and dancing along to his music, swaying his hips and sprinkling chocolate chips into his batter.

He looks so happy, you almost feel guilty, but if everything goes to plan, you'll get back before either of them notices you're gone.

With another deep breath, you open the front door. It makes the slightest creaking sound, but August doesn't notice. Once you're outside, you close the door and head to your destination. You have a few dollars from chores that Cullen had given you. Surely neither would mind too much.

How else were you supposed to spend cash, after all?

Maybe you'll get each of them something nice, just in case they do find out. Maybe that'll soften the blow if they find out.

As you continue walking down the sidewalk, you sigh in relief upon noticing how barren the streets are tonight.

It's a blessing. No chance encounters. No accidental bump-ins.

It's freeing.

When you finally reach the nearest convenience store, you browse the aisles aimlessly. There aren't many people around, and certainly no one you recognize.

As you go, you look at every little item and its price. Your options seem limitless compared to the very limited options of... well, anything, in your past.

Cigarettes, soda, chips, candy...

You then find some cute keychains, and one is of a deer, August's favorite animal.

You remember watching Bambi a few days ago with your dads, curled between them on the couch with hot cocoa. And then August crying, and Cullen reminding him he's seen the movie several times before.

You chuckle a bit at the memory.

Perhaps this is the best choice.

But there aren't any cool-looking keychains for Cullen. You bite your lip and look some more.

Then, to your luck, there is a section of energy drinks. Cullen likes them, even though August complains about the caffeine intake.

You attempt to do math in your head, coming to the conclusion you'd have barely any money left over to buy yourself something. You scan over everything, before settling on a cheap snack you like, even though both of your dads would buy it for you if you asked.

Still, it feels nice to buy something for yourself.

...

"Welcome home," August chirps, leaning down slightly to kiss his husband. "How was your day, dear?"

"Boring," Cullen sighs. He takes off his coat and hangs it on the rack. "Where's (Y/n)?"

"Sleeping. They're still adjusting to everything, so they're all tuckered out," August replies. He lets out a sigh that shows his nerves are shot, and Cullen wastes no time in rubbing his upper arms to soothe him. "I'm trying so hard not to be overbearing, but it's so hard. This is probably the longest I've left them alone... I should check on them, they've been quiet."

Cullen chuckles a little, and presses a chaste kiss to his cheek. "If they haven't made any noise, they're likely still napping," he reasons. But after seeing his husband chew on his lower lip, he offers a smile. "I'll pop in to make sure they're still okay. Why don't you take a break?"

"You're the one who just got home from work," August chuckles.

"And I didn't do a single thing all day except stare at paperwork." With that, Cullen makes his way down the hall to you room. "Baby?" he calls in a sing-song tone. He quietens down when he doesn't get a response.

Poor thing, must still be sleeping.

He gently knocks on the door, still receiving no response. After a few seconds, he creaks open the door and slips into your room. "Sorry for waking you, angel," he apologizes sweetly. "Your papa sent me to—" he stops talking when he sees you aren't in your bed at all. His brows furrow and his heart rate speeds up. "Are you hiding?"

When he receives no answer, his paranoia sets in, making his brain wonder if your abductors broke into their house again, stealing you away without them having any idea.

"(Y/n), this isn't funny," he rasps, throwing some of your things around, as if by some miracle, you're hiding under something.

After a minute of calling and frantically searching, he scrambles downstairs, calling your name and checking every single room.

Cullen sees his husband staring at him with wide, alarmed eyes. "I can't find them," he whispers. "They weren't in their room."

"What?!" August shrieks.

"Stay there in case they come back!" he yells, grabbing his keys before rushing back outside.

...

As you finish paying for your stuff, you head out of the store.

In the time you were inside, it had gotten significantly darker outside. Even though you were gone less than an hour, you couldn't help but fear how angry your fathers might be with you. You begin racing down the sidewalk, praying that neither August nor Cullen realize you're gone.

The faster you run, the worse your guilt becomes.

You stop running in hopes of calming yourself down before heading home. It won't help anyone if you show up in such a panicked state.

Still, you don't think you can stay still much longer, so you force yourself to keep going.

Suddenly, a loud, rumbling sound comes from behind you, scaring you so badly you jump up and spin around.

It's a car, rapidly speeding in your direction, catching you in its headlights. You freeze, too scared to even breathe. Then it slams on its brakes and comes to an abrupt halt. Just a couple inches away.

You know that car anywhere. It's your parents'.

The driver's door opens quickly, slamming into the car parked in front of it.

A man steps out of it.

It's Cullen. He rushes towards you.

"...hi, Da—"

Without giving you the opportunity to speak, Cullen grabs your wrist in a death grip and begins pulling you towards the car. He throws open the passenger door and forces you into the seat.

Before you can react, he reaches over you and buckles you in, clicking the belt in place. He practically slams your own door shut when he finishes securing you.

He then races back to the driver's side, slides into his own seat, and closes his door with enough force to shake the vehicle. He grips the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turn white.

"I..."

"Don't speak to me right now," he growls, voice shaking in barely contained fury.

As soon as his engine is revved up, he peels out, taking you back home.

The entire drive back is suffocating with silence. Cullen never removes one of his hands from the wheel, as if he needs something to hold onto, and stares straight ahead, eyes laser-focused on the road in front of him.

Once you reach your house, he doesn't even bother to park the car properly.

He parks diagonally and carelessly, barely missing hitting one of your neighbors. Like before, he rushes around the front of the car, opening your door for you and all but yanks you out of your seat. He makes quick work of getting you out of the car and dragging you into the house.

When the two of you step foot inside, August is pacing anxiously and chewing his thumb. He then looks up, freezing once he realizes you've arrived home safely.

"Oh, my sweet baby!" he sobs, rushing over to embrace you.

Despite yourself, you return the hug with trembling limbs.

"(Y/n) was just down the street," Cullen tells him bitterly. His eyes glare at you as he speaks. "All alone. In the dark."

August gasps and looks down at you.

His anger doesn't last long, though, because the next thing you know, he's bursting into tears again, clinging to you even harder than before. "Sweetheart," he sobs into your hair.

You glance up at Cullen, who still looks angry, but its less focused on you specifically this time. Still, his arms are folded over his chest.

"For all we know, you were kidnapped again!" he finally says, only once August's sobs turn into sniffles. "Didn't we tell you to not go out without one of us with you?!" You open your mouth to protest, but Cullen cuts you off. "We aren't letting you go anywhere unsupervised anymore. Not after this. Clearly you can't be trusted. It's my fault for giving you that privilege in the first place."

"I'm sorry," you murmur. Tears fall down your own eyes. "I just... needed some space."

"By sneaking out?!" Cullen exclaims. His demeanor changes when you flinch. Sighing, he pulls both you and August into a big bear hug, squeezing both of you. "I don't do this to be mean, or to hurt you, kiddo." His voice breaks at the last word, and his hold tightens. "We just want to protect you."

In an attempt to cheer them up, you reach into your bag and hand them their gifts. "I got you these," you mutter. "I know it doesn't take away what I did, but... I wanted to get these for you."

"Oh, honey," August sniffles, clutching his new keychain. "It's adorable!" He gets even more emotional, if that were even possible, and yanks you back into his arms. "You're too sweet."

Cullen sets his gift down and hugs you both ten times tighter. "Please, please don't ever scare us like that again. We love you, baby. And we don't know what we'd do if we lost you again."

[heavenly-fae]

million dollar man

the wizard x reader

warnings | smut (sorry), fem!reader, soft dom!wizard, fingering, praise, age difference, he’s also definitely a bit of a pervert (i’m self indulgent ok)

a/n | last fic of the year so let me go out with a bang. yall i am so so obsessed with the wizard I've gone down the jeff goldblum pipeline i love him so much. he’s so lana del rey coded it’s kinda insane. so i decided to be the first person (?) to write smut for the fuckin wizard of oz (i cant believe i wrote this sentence) so to anyone who also enjoys the wizard who reads this you thank you so much! crossposted on my ao3

“sir! i have a message for you from madam morrible, i believe it's urgent!”

you were the wizard's own personal assistant. one of the very few people who saw who he truly was; an older, but still very handsome, man who operated the magical console that controlled the giant puppet used to control his subjects. in truth, he was very kind and gracious, even silly at times.

“oh! thank you, my dear.” he gracefully strolled over to you in his beautifully elaborate emerald suit and took the letter from your hands and slipped it into his coat pocket, he paused for a moment to look over you. you could feel his honey-colored eyes scanning your frame and felt your heart race, you shifted in place hoping he wouldn’t notice your nervousness. with his endless power, you guessed he already knew.

“it’s—it’s my pleasure, your ozness! is there anything else you require of me?” the wizard lets out a laugh, soft and elegant, just like him you thought. he grabs your hand, his large aged one completely envelops yours as he takes you to his control panel. your face flushes and your hand trembles in his, you pray he doesn’t notice. how embarrassing it would be if the wizard thought you were this easily swayed by just one touch. in actuality, he thought it was adorable.

“you’re still so formal with me hm? but dear, i do need you for just one thing, if you don’t mind that is?” he had this mischievous look in his eyes, his charming smile making the corners of his eyes wrinkle, you couldn’t help the warmth rising more in your cheeks.

you nodded a bit too quickly for your own liking, “yes! um—of course, i don’t mind, sir!”

the wizard smiles, and the butterflies in your stomach flutter rapidly as he turns you to face the control panel as he stands behind you. even though you’re not facing him you tremble as you can feel how close he is to your back, the soft waft of his cologne and his breath upon the back of your neck. oh sweet oz, you felt yourself get impossibly warmer like you could combust at any moment.

“now dear, i just want your opinion on something,” he reached over you, turned, and pulled a few levers on the console, you heard the familiar creaking and mechanics of the puppet he controlled. “you see when i operate this thing, i just feel like there should be a way to hm, be more—how do i put this…less imposing?” the wizard rambles off about how he would like to still use the figure as he feels that his people need it but he doesn’t want to seem as feared anymore, especially in situations when it’s not needed.

you hang on every word, more focused on how his voice graced your ears, how the great and powerful wizard was asking you for advice, how you can feel his every movement behind you, and oh he felt so warm. you shudder as you feel him press his chest against your back as he reaches for a different lever, it seems that he noticed as he paused his ramblings for a second.

“are you alright, my dear?”

you gasp, stumbling over your words as you hear him quietly speak his concern over you. the wizard was worried he made his poor little assistant uncomfortable and he wouldn’t want that. but you eventually manage to tell him that you’re ok, hoping he doesn’t pull away from you.

he knows exactly what he’s doing, he's so keenly aware of what his magnificent presence does to others, especially you. he continues his ramblings, moving different levers and speaking softly into your ear. he knows the effect he has on you, but he revels in how easy it is to make flustered in particular, how cute you look trying to hide yourself reliving the warmth between your thighs.

you feel the wizard bring his large hand to your waist, and you try your hardest not to melt into his touch. but when he speaks in that low tone, his deep honied voice so close to your ear, you shake in his hold, letting go of a breath you didn’t know you were holding. you never would have thought the wizard would ever be this close to you. he has you right in the palm of his hand.

“you’re shaking sweetheart, if you want me to stop you just have to say the word.”

you pause for a moment, your breath leaving your lips shakily. this—this was wrong, you cared very deeply for the wizard maybe more than you should, and you were eternally grateful to work under him. your attention comes back to him as he teasingly squeezes your hips with his hand. he thought you were just too cute to not tease. your thighs press together again trying to relieve the evergrowing pool of heat.

“please—please don’t stop, your ozness—“

“i was hoping you would say that, dearest”

his hand glides over your uniform, and you feel him smile devilishly, even though you don’t dare turn your neck to check. “i’m quite fond of you, you know? you’re such a sweet little assistant and i think you deserve a reward no?” the wizard coos into your ear, his touches pressing insistently deeper, like he’s desperate to feel your skin under your clothes.

your head feels so fuzzy with the attention he’s giving you, you can’t think straight so you nod dumbly at his question. with the way he’s making you feel now, it could certainly be called a reward. people would die to be in your position. his hand trails downward, tugging at the hem of the green pencil skirt you decided to wear today. your heart nearly beats out of your chest.

“i just adore this skirt on you, dear, but it does get in the way of what i’m trying to do here,“ he chuckles, hes so close you can feel his chest rumbling when he laughs. you tremble in his grasp as he pulls your skirt up, exposing your clothed cunt to him and you feel the blood rushing to your cheeks. you knew this was wrong, but you ached for his touch. sweet oz what has gotten into you?

“shh—let me take care of you, sweetheart.”

you could feel your breath begin to quicken and the pulse between your legs grow stronger. this was not good. but you melt into him when he trails his hand up your thigh, pressing yourself closer to his chest. his hand climbs higher up your thigh, you feel him breathe out a laugh at your flustered state once his hand hovers over the heat between your legs.

“tell me you want this, my dear…”

he croons softly into your ear, he hasn’t even touched you yet and you are already blissed out. his facial hair brushes over your skin, tickling your neck as his lips graze the tender skin that lies just beneath your earlobe. you stammer indistinctly, pawing at his other arm now wrapped around your waist while your eyes train towards the ceiling. you felt dizzy.

the wizard's teeth scrape your skin, they sink into the curve of your throat. his elegant fingers press into your panties, stroking down the cloaked hood of your clit, rolling over the bud through thin, sticky cotton. your body jumps, chasing that feeling, and goosebumps rise on your skin as he begins to pull away.

“wait! i-i want it,” you plead, chasing the feeling of his hands with a strained whine. “please—your ozness” you were shocked at the desperation in your own voice. but sensing his lips curl into a smile against your neck you realized he reveled in it.

your hips bucked reaching for his touch again, he shifted just enough to push his fingertips beneath the elastic. he chuckled softly, "would’ve never thought a sweet thing like you would be so needy." he chided. he plunged his hand down and slipped it over your vulva, cupping and pressing against you.

your hips jolted at the pressure and a soft gasp escaped your lips. "is this what you wanted, dearest?" his deep voice was at your ear again, curling around your senses, filling your mind with heavy fog. barely able to make out a response for him you nod dumbly relishing in the pleasure the wizard gave you.

"hm?" a finger slipped down between your folds, "you’re so wet, sweetheart" he purred. his fingers slowly began to stroke down to your entrance and back up to circle your clit in a meticulous pattern. his fingers, wet with your slick, circled your clit just a touch faster. pleasure is coursing through you, as more little moans leave your lips, but you grow embarrassed at the noise coming out of you that you press your lips together.

“no, no we can’t have that honey, let me hear those pretty little noises, hm?”

and you couldn’t help but obey him. soft moans began to slip through your lips. "oh, you’re just so adorable." the wizard sighed. the tension in your limbs slowly melted away until you were a soft and pliant thing for him. pleas slurred off your tongue when he placed more pressure on your clit, stroking tight, precise patterns that had you dripping for him.

you moaned as his fingers moved down to pet at your wetness, two fingers brushing against your entrance but not pressing in. he pressed against your cunt firmly as your hips slowly began to grind down.

"yeah? you want my fingers to make you feel good, hm?" his fingertips probed your entrance, teasing you. a soft cry escaped you, your hips trembling in need. a flurry of pleas escaped you and the wizard shushed you gently, taking pity on your pathetic state. he took his time slipping his fingers inside and pressing them firmly against your walls as they squeezed around him.

"there you go, this is what you needed, hm?" he cooed, almost talking down to you. he began peppering delicate kisses over your ears and neck, slowly pumping his fingers in and out. “does me teasing you always get you this wet?” and you couldn’t help but admit to him, simply nodding. oh, and he just couldn’t help but indulge in your confession. you were nothing like the pretty young things he used to mess around with back in nebraska, you were full of pure devotion just for him.

"feels good doesn’t it?" he began curling his fingers just enough to stimulate your g-spot but not enough to send you keening into mindless pleasure. "or do you need more?" your mouth fell open as breathing became too much for you while you nodded furiously.

"yes—please—" you let your head tip back into him, your hands grabbing at the emerald-clad arm around your waist, a feeble attempt to ground yourself to reality, "sir—" you whined quietly.

your whine morphed into a cry as he curled up his experienced fingers finding that sweet spot of stimulation inside of you and positively abusing it. all you could do was whine and shake in his hands. "look at you," he muttered into your ear. "messy little thing aren’t you, sweetheart?" his fingers quickened in pace as his palm began nudging just right against your abandoned clit.

the wizard's words were lost to you, with your mouth hanging open ever so slightly you nodded and tried your best not to cum too quickly. the obscene sound of his fingers fucking into you and the sound of his palm slapping against your clit echo throughout the control room. that combined with your growing moans and his husky breathing was overloading your senses in the best way possible.

"i’ve been wanting to see you like this for a while," he purred, slowly pressing his palm against your clit a little harder. “since you started wearing these adorably tight skirts." he purposely pulled you tighter against him so you could feel him hard against your lower back, "you feel that? that’s all your fault, honey." his voice sounded strained, all you could sob was his name, begging him to take you right then and there.

the wizard chuckled at your state, and at the feeling of your cunt tightening around his fingers more and more. "that close already, hm?" he pulled away from your neck as your head turned to meet his hazel eyes, yours heavy and glazed as you nodded. "aw dearest," he cooed, "that won't do, i need to hear you” a whimper and buck of your hips was your response.

he tsked, "that won't do." his free hand came up to grab your face and held it there, looking into your eyes. "be good and say 'please' and i’ll let you finish all over my fingers." he had a stern but flushed look to him as he spoke, seeing the wizard flustered pulled your pleasure filled mind out of the haze for a moment of coherency.

"pl—please..." was all you could muster up as the edge he kept you on turned your pleasure into pain. he released your face, grinding his palm hard and slow against your clit. and you swore to oz you almost came right then and there as you cried out. "please—oh-p-please, your ozness let me finish—" you whined and squirmed in his arms as you tried to chase after your own pleasure to no avail.

he pressed his lips against your neck again and you felt him grin devilishly as his fingers pace picked back up. “such a good little assistant.” the wizard began fucking you again with just his two fingers, pulling embarrassing noises from your throat and each thrust of his soaked digits in your cunt. it was obscene the way you writhed in his hold, the way your hips humped into each pull and push of his hand. “so so good for me,” he cooed, pressing soft kisses against your throat, a stark contrast to how his fingers were moving inside of you.

each pass of his fingers over that sensitive patch inside of you produced the most delicious moans from your lips, and with every brush of his palm against your clit your legs shook more and more. “just like that honey,” his lips brushed against your ear. “i’m making you feel good, yeah? your sweet little cunt belongs to me.”

your body jerked with pleasure at the wizard's words, as his free hand pressed down holding you against him, “ah-h–your o-ozness” you cried out. he let out a soft groan against your neck at the way your hips involuntarily bucked with pleasure delightfully pressing against the tent in his pants.

“let go for me.” oh, the deep timbre of his voice had taken hold of your mind and pulled you deeper into a pleasure-filled stupor. you couldn’t think of anything but the pulsing of your walls around his long fingers. with a cry, his hands and voice alone he coaxed your climax out of you, his fingertips abusing your poor g-spot until you couldn’t take anymore. your thighs clamped around on his hand, while your hips jerked with each almost painful throb of your cunt around his fingers.

you could even feel your heartbeat in your now oversensitive clit, your hips involuntarily overstimulating you as they met each stroke of his fingers fucking into you. “oh—oh sir, wait—“ your voice shuddered as his hand slowed.

“pent up weren’t you?” the wizard cooed, retracting his fingers and tracing his thumb from your slick entrance and up to your clit and back down again. mindlessly running his fingers through your slit as you whined, trying to pull away from the overstimulation.

“sorry dearest, you’re just so adorable i couldn’t help myself,” he chuckles against your throat, finally pulling his fingers from your panties. his slick fingers coming up to slip past your lips, your tongue quickly sucking down your own juices, he couldn’t help but marvel at your need and he thought for a moment about how lucky he was to have you.

“honey, do you think you can help me with one more thing?” you’re reminded of his own need pressed against your lower back, and you were more than happy to help your wonderful wizard.

[retroaria]

hey! I'm not really into nsfw stuff- sooo would you like to do something soft with reo? 😭 like, idk, him as a husband or father so with a family? THANK YOU SO MUCH 💗💗

✮⋆˙ domestic reo headcanons ✮⋆˙

a/n: this is so brain rotted i can’t even lie i think reo is just so easy to romanticize. pure fluff.

• | BLUE LOCK M.LIST | enjoy !! - aria 💜 | •

✮ I actually love this because i headcanon that reo would be a great dad :D at the very least he’d be extremely supportive of whatever his children wanted to do in their lives. He wouldn’t force them to follow in his footsteps like his father and he’d use whatever devices he could to ensure they can comfortably follow the path they choose.

✮ Would post about all his children’s accomplishments, or if you guys didn’t feel comfortable posting the kids he’d still take any chance to tell everyone about it - even his teammates who literally don’t care that his son got the highest score on the spelling test (they’re happy for him though). He secretly enjoys scrapbooking for his kids but they’re “your books” and he “just helps you with it sometimes”. (he’s the one who took almost all the pictures and saved every piece of paper his kid has ever drawn on)

✮ Reo is a charming husband, so charming and sweet it’s hard to be mad at him. He’s a bit lacking in cleaning/caretaking capabilities when it comes to the home but he puts in the effort??? He tries his best and if he does a bad job he always makes it up to you one way or another. In all honesty, he’s probably already hired people to do that (forgot this man is inheriting a multi millionaire dollar corporation).

✮ Reo is however very good at taking care of children. Once he has a clear grasp of their needs, he finds it to be really enjoyable and fulfilling. He takes a lot of pride in whatever happiness and comfort he can bring to his kids. He hates the sound of his babies crying, not because it’s annoying (though he complains about that too) but because it genuinely hurts his soul. He can be a bit too worrisome about it sometimes - he’s totally the type of person to look up his child’s symptoms and freak out over seeing all the worst case scenarios.

✮ The one thing that reo particularly excels at is taking care of you when you’re sick. He can always tell when you’re not feeling your best and he immediately harps on you. He doesn’t know how to cook very well but he knows how to make a few different kinds of warm foods to fill your stomach and give you a little energy. He’d absolutely refuse to stay away from you (unless it was a seriously contagious illness or if you guys had a baby that could’ve gotten sick). Doesn’t care if you’re sneezing and coughing and wheezing, he wants to feed you and hold you and kiss your hot head until it cools down and everything is better again. His goal is always to make sure you get better as soon as possible and won’t let you do anything but rest and relax until then.

✮ Reo is an incredible gift giver! I’ve certainly mentioned this in another hc post, but he is always out and about buying you little things that remind him of you. If you guys have a kid that’s just more gifts he’ll have to get and the thought of that honestly excites him.

✮ Anything can happen but…reo with a daughter…guys….

✮ he would be the sweetest girl dad! would do everything in his power to make her believe she’s an actual princess and he’s just one of her loyal servants. Spoils her rotten and doesn’t feel bad about it.

✮ You’d have to explain to him how this could negatively affect your daughter and it would break his heart. He’d go into theatrics trying to refute it because “What do you mean I can’t let her have everything she wants?” and “What if she cries? You want me to make my daughter cry?” he gets it eventually, but remains reluctant lol.

✮ He’d love playing sports with his kids. Would try to get them into soccer but if they end up liking another sport he’s still just as hype. Isn’t initially familiar with the concept of letting the kids win but soon realized he has to level with the speed of their little legs.

✮ I don’t have any specific hc’s for him as a boy dad but he’d be just as great of course - he’d make sure his son sees how women should be treated based on how he treats you!

✮ If he could find a way to make you the total world ruler he would because he truly believes you’re the most capable person. He’s the kind of husband who lets you run things for the most part but is always there to step in when you need a break or if you just want him by your side. Would call for an emergency flight back home from whatever country he’s training in just because you said you didn’t wanna go to parent teacher night alone.

✮ He loves doing mundane tasks with you, but always tries to “make it a bit more fun” as he says - which basically means he puts away the clothes you fold while you listen to him crack really bad jokes at you, gossip about his teammates, or try to sing and serenade you with his MANY playlists he’s made dedicated to you. On days you both have nothing going on he follows you around the house like a lost puppy, which is slightly annoying but it also means you have four hands to do stuff because he’s a participator above all else.

✮ Reo always makes sure to show his appreciation for how hard you work whether it’s at your job, taking care of the kids/house, or both. He takes time alone with you very seriously, even as your lives get busier and your family grows he always makes sure there’s time for the two of you to just be together and be in love. Always jokes about how you guys need to keep the romance going. He has small romantic gestures that he indulges you in throughout the day: kissing you on the cheek, brushing your hair out of your face/tying it back for you if you if you need (taking his hair tie out for you to use), hugging you a little tighter just before you get up, running a bath for the both of you, massaging your shoulders while you talk.

to be fully honest with you guys, i have never in my life wanted to have kids so it was a bit hard for me to imagine what being happy with children would be like LMAO but alas i did my best. stay safe and stay cool. - aria :3

[hollyoongs]

⤷ SINGLE DAD TAESAN FELL IN LOVE!

시놉시스 ┆𝘁͟aesan, ─────⠀f!reader 𓂅 𝑤.𝑐: +6k ꒰ ⌗ angst, mutual pinning and a lot of fluff ꒱ ↷⠀ ℰditoral ! 𓂂

“Come on, Dad! I’m going to be late for the recital!” Dohyun was dragging his young dad through the hallways of the school, his cute little elf costume already out of place due to the running from every member of the family.

“Dohyun, we are getting there! Just slow down a little for your grandparents!.” Taesan said, smiling when his son behaved and all three adults could walk slightly slower.

“God Lord, Dohyun! I’m putting you in track classes or whatever it’s called,” Taesan’s dad said, making his grandson Dohyun smile wide.

“Shut up and buy some snacks.” Now it was the turn of Taesan’s mom to talk out to him, giving him a few dollar bills so that he can have the food. The two adults and the kid went straight to designated places of the school theater. Once the kid was seated, his grandma fixed his clothes as Taesan got out his mom's makeup pouch to retouch Dohyun’s makeup. Once Grandma was finished and gave a good luck kiss on the forehead to his grandson, they ran to the back of the stage, saying “Sorry” every now and then to any person that he slightly pushed.

He looked for a seat that was available and thanked the person that left it hidden. Dohyun ran to sit, and Taesan followed behind, kneeling in front of the kid with the makeup pouch fully opened.

“Hold still, Dohyun.” Taesan whispered, carefully dabbing a bit of blush onto his son’s chubby cheeks as he learned from the moms of the class, making him scrunch his nose a little as he giggled.

“Dad! It tickles!” Dohyun squirmed, his tiny elf hat slipping over his eyes.

“Hey, hey, we can’t have the cutest elf in the recital looking like a clown, even more if it is my son.” Taesan teased as he gently readjusted the hat and wiped the stray makeup he did with his thumb. He looked around when his son asked for a bathroom break, noticing how the kids had their moms beside them and smiled with slight nostalgia.

Being a dad at 20 was no joke to him, but it was a responsibility Taesan was going to fulfill the moment he held the little body of Dohyun in his arms. At fifteen, he hadn’t known much about life; he was barely old enough to understand himself, let alone how to raise another human being. But of course, he was big enough to know where to place his dick, and it was not inside his underwear. 

His mind was not prepared for his girlfriend passing away in a car accident the day all the family was going to the delivery appointment. The memory haunted him like a vivid nightmare, one that he couldn’t escape. He remembered holding her hand. chattering about names and what features the baby might inherit, everything changing in a split second.

The air was not joyful as before, but heavy with desperation. The screech of tires, the deafening crunch of metal, and how everything spun out of control were etched into his mind. The moment he looked at his right side dizzy, it hit him like a punch; she was gone, and with her, part of his heart left with it.

Dohyun had to be delivered through an emergency C-section and directly to the NICU, hooked up to wires and monitors that thankfully beeped steadily. He remembered how he was clinging to that sound like a lifeline, being the only sign that something—someone—had survived. A part of her.

Her parents didn’t even let him come to the funeral, firm believers that it was his fault for her passing, or in her father's words that were covered in venom and grief, “You ruined her life.” And he still remembers the lack of strength he had to argue because, deep down, he believed it too. 

The hospital stay was a blur, exhaustion and paperwork that he needed to help himself with the phone and his parents. But he remembers the moment he was left alone with a days-old Dohyun. The nurses had wheeled the bassinet into his room, and he simply stared. Who could imagine a human could be so small, so fragile, and yet so heartbreakingly real?

When Taesan had Dohyun in his trembling arms, it was like a button had been pushed that made him break into tears. He cried a river—deep, gut-wrenching sobs that shook his entire body, not even caring how his parents saw, for the first time ever, him turning into pieces. 

He cried for her, for his ruined future with her, for the childhood he was about to lose, and for this new role he had to take alone. He cried until he felt his head hurt and both of his parents' heads on each side of his shoulder, hugging the two of them as they cried with them, watching the pacific face of the sleepy baby.

Dohyun was a piece of her, a tiny reminder of the girl he had loved. He wasn’t ready to be a father, not by any stretch of the imagination, but Taesan realized he had two choices: step up or let life swallow them both whole.

And he chose to step up.

He was already used to pitiful looks and disapproving words from every direction. He heard it all, whether the words were whispered or written on someone’s glance. At first, it stung like salt on an open wound, but he managed to make those people's words the background noise of their life.

His parents were no exception. When they first found out about the pregnancy, their disappointment was a physical barrier between them. They barely spoke to him; he felt like a stranger in his own home. But at the seventh month of her pregnancy, they had a change of heart. The small change involved raised voices and tears, deciding at the end that they wanted to be involved.

Even with the anger piled up, he would always catch her mom knitting tiny blankets in the evenings, and his dad began painting the extra room they had at home and searching for cribs.

Dohyun became their world. Taesan and his parents worked together like a family. His mom took care of Dohyun when Taesan had classes, a non-negotiable for the parents to keep living in the house; his dad taught him practical parenting skills he never thought he’d need, and he worked two part-time jobs to make enough money for him.

There were sleepless nights, endless worries about money, and moments when the grief was still present. But he overcame it; thankfully, he got a scholarship to the best university thanks to his grades and finally got a stable job that pays more than enough.

“Dad, I need help with my suspenders.” He slightly shook his head when he heard the voice of his son, smiling at how he was looking weirdly at the piece of clothing.

“To the rescue.” He took him by his arms and sat him on an empty table, making airplane sound effects. From the corner of his eye, Taesan noticed movement by the door, realizing it was you going in with a clipboard, ushering parents, and checking on the kids. The soft red cardigan gives you a beautiful glow, and your hair accentuates your features beautifully. He could feel his heart skip, like it always did when he saw you.

You were your mom's current replacement as a teacher; you were on college vacation, and you took that time to help out as your mother was on a trip until New Year. He didn’t know there was a change until he saw you for the first time, giving him his son after a small class picnic, being hooked by you.

Sure, he felt ashamed to start having a crush on his son’s teacher, a teacher that was the same age as him, but there was something about you that made him feel safe. It wasn’t just your beauty, though that alone could make anyone lose their breath. It was the way you carried yourself, the way you spoke to the kids with kindness. It was how you listened—not just heard, but truly listened—to the worries and small triumphs of every parent who came to you, as if their world mattered as much as your own. 

Taesan wasn’t even sure when it started. Maybe it was the day you knelt down to fix Dohyun’s shoelace with a smile that crinkled the corners of your eyes. Or maybe it was the first time he heard you laugh because of his clumsiness around you—a sound so warm that it felt like his own heart being full. He only remembers his mother pushing him after she realized his feelings for her when he went to a parents meeting with her favorite flowers.

Whatever it was, it was undeniable now.

“Dad, you’re staring.” Dohyun’s voice cut through his thoughts once again, dragging his gaze from you to the tiny smirk on his son’s face.

“I’m not,” Taesan replied quickly, his ears flushing pink as he clipped Dohyun’s suspenders in place. “I’m just making sure my favorite elf is recital ready.”

“No�� You were looking at Miss Y/N again.” He raised his eyebrows several times, teasing him, and Taesan was about to hide under that table.

“Just be quiet, or you will not have hot chocolate at home.” He used his dad card, and the kid “zipped” his mouth. But not long after that, he dropped a sentence that felt like a snowball being smashed on his face.

“Can Miss Y/N be my mom?” 

“Dohyun, lower your voice!” Taesan’s voice was barely above a whisper, his face now fully red, matching the poinsettias decorating the room for ambiance. 

“Why? Grandma says she’s nice, pretty, and that you like her.” Dohyun was so unbothered, completely the opposite of his panicking dad. He had to finish working in the suspenders and put him on the ground. Kids really had the uncanny ability to expose your deepest thoughts without even trying.

“It’s… complicated, buddy,” he somehow managed to say, smoothing down Dohyun’s costume as a distraction. “And it’s not something you can just ask. She’s your teacher, and I’m—”

“Handsome, responsible, and funny!” Dohyun interrupted, and Taesan's eyes widened. “That’s what Grandma says. I say you make the best pancakes. She’d like you if you made her pancakes, Dad.” 

“You’re spending too much time with your grandma.” Taesan shook his head, trying not to laugh at the attempt of both his mom and his own son, trying to make him find someone.

“It's okay, Dad. I’ll tell her for you. Miss Y/N!” Never in a million years would Taesan have imagined his son screaming at the top of his lungs, drawing the attention of everyone backstage. His face turned a deeper shade of crimson as he watched you walking to both of you.

You arrived in no time, smiling at Taesan before kneeling down to his eye level. “Yes, Dohyun?” you asked warmly.

“My dad wants to ask you to—”

“If the makeup is well executed!” Taesan came up with an excuse faster than the speed of light; he made a ‘quiet’ gesture to Dohyun when he saw you viewing the makeup.

“Yes, Taesan, it’s well done. You got better.” 

“Okay! Listen up, we are about to go to the stage. Please separate into groups: Santas, elves, and reindeer." The other teacher that was in charge of the choreography called out the kids, and Dohyun left them both alone. The parents of the rest of the kids were starting to leave, rushing to their seats to set all the cameras to record every moment of their child's recital. “Let’s rehearse before we go to the stage.”

A touch on his shoulder made him turn his sight from his son to you, the culprit. You smiled softly at him, and he couldn’t help but do the same.

“How are you, Taesan? You haven’t been around for a few weeks.” You said, going around collecting some trash left behind, him helping right away willingly. 

It was refreshing having someone the same age as you around, aside from your college friends, and you couldn’t lie to yourself that meeting Taesan was something that you would love to do in all your lives. 

He was not only handsome, but how he was a person spoke volumes about his character—gentle, attentive, and full of strength. He also had this goofy side of him; he only showed his son that you could catch a glimpse of it and laugh quietly without the duo noticing it; his clumsy side, however, was the one you saw the most.

“I’ve been good, just work and college. I got vacation from both, and that’s why I could come to see Dohyun.” Taesan replied, trying to keep his tone steady as he picked up a stray juice box.

“That’s amazing. He couldn’t stop mentioning every day how many days were left for you to be on a break.” Both of you laughed, going to the trash cans and depositing everything in your hands.

“He made me practice his lines, and not to brag, but his dance is amazing.” You give him a soft chuckle while Taesan scratches the back of his neck. 

“He’s adorable, and he’s lucky to have you. You’re doing a great job, Dongmin.”

Whenever you said his real name, it was like a warm hug to his heart; he felt reassured and couldn’t help but break into a smile with the words coming from you. “Thank you, Y/N. It means a lot.”

“Y/N, the kids are about to go to the stage; take the “reindeers.”” Another teacher caught your attention, and you remembered why you were there in the first place.

“I’m going! You should also leave backstage; seeing your son in the front is so much better." Because of the excitement, you grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze, your fingers intertwined, that left him shocked. You looked down on what you did and immediately lost his hand from yours, embarrassed. “Sorry!”

He saw you running to your designated group, catching a small glimpse of how your ears turned red. Taesan stood there for a moment, his hand tingling where yours had just been, as if your touch had left an imprint. 

He walked out of the backstage area with a lovesick smile, a smile that was caught by her mom, who laughed quietly with her husband. He took the recording camera from his backpack when the place exploded with claps and cheers; the kids were slowly entering, and Dohyun spotted Taesan immediately. 

He waved at Dohyun with equal excitement when he realized he was front row and center, letting his parents know, and they also brought up their phones with the same excitement as him. His eyes went to you; you moved gracefully across the stage, gently guiding the kids into their spots with a smile, whispering encouragement to a nervous child—you were a natural at this; even if it was not your job, you still poured your heart into it.

The lights dimmed, and the music began to play. He couldn’t help but smile tenderly and chuckle at Dohyun’s acting and dancing. He was the best and stayed on beat, almost the same as he used to do when he was a child, or that’s what his mom told him. The room was filled with the sound of parents cheering and clapping as cameras flashed to capture the adorable chaos of mismatched choreography.

You could be slightly seen with two other teachers clapping along and mouthing the words to the song as you watched the kids with pride. The moment the performance ended, there was a burst of applause, and Taesan was so into the moment that he even stood up, cheering louder than anyone to make himself noticed to Dohyun, followed by his parents. 

Dohyun bowed dramatically, soaking in the attention like the tiny star he was. The curtain of the theater shut down slowly, and he watched his clock; he had time.

“Mom, can I ask you for permission for something?” His mother looked at him and nodded. “Can you help me next week in making Dohyun fall asleep early?”

“What day? You sound very specific.”

“December 24th.” His mom opened her eyes and gave him full attention.

“On Christmas Eve? You better give me a good reason.” She said, his arms crossing on top of her purse.

“I’m going to take Y/N on a date.” He could see how a happy face was starting to form on her face. 

“Oh my! Finally, I guess she accepted your date.” She said, her hands clapping together, and he just could scratch the back of his head. His mother's face lit down. “You didn’t even ask her, did you?”

“Yeah, I just want to grab the car keys to go to the flower shop, give her flowers to congratulate her on this show, and then ask her out.” His mom watched her watch and quickly analyzed a pamphlet about the show schedule that she was handed before it began.

“You have thirty minutes before Dohyun’s second act. Go, now.” Taesan kissed his mom's cheek and grabbed the car keys, walking outside the theater before running to the parking lot. Since he already gave her a bouquet of her favorite flowers, he will do it again but with her second favorite, and it will be something equally thoughtful but not repetitive. He drove quickly to the flower shop he had frequented since realizing his feelings for you, one that was near the school and was owned by one of his parents' friends.

“Another bouquet for the teacher?” Sungho teased, arranging the blooms when he saw his friend coming in.

“Her second favorite this time,” he admitted with a sheepish grin. Sungho picked out the flower after he gave him the name, and before he focused on decorating the present, he extended a white card.

“Write her something; you will not always give her only the flowers, do you?” Taesan quickly grabbed a pen from the counter and thought about it, writing almost immediately.

By the time he returned to the theater, his hands held a beautifully arranged bouquet of white lilies and soft pink carnations, neatly tied with a silver ribbon. Before he went inside backstage again, he looked around to see if there was anybody there, but knowing that in ten minutes it would start, Dohyun’s second act, they were rehearsing downstairs.

He spotted you near the dressing rooms, helping one of the kids adjust their Santa hat. He gathered every ounce of courage he had to approach you with the bouquet in hand. Not realizing there was a chair and hitting his leg with it, making some noise in the theater and catching your attention.

“Oh God, Taesan! Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” He stammered, rubbing his shin awkwardly and clutching the bouquet tightly in his other hand. “I, uh, didn’t see the chair there.”

“You have a talent for finding things to trip over, don’t you?”

“Guess it’s a skill,” he joked, his ears burning and looking at the flowers, extending his arms to you. “These are for you. I probably won’t see you after the show since I promised Dohyun to go to Lotte World as soon as this finishes. The show so far has been amazing; you did amazing. Congratulations.”

Your eyes widened as you took the bouquet, the thoughtful arrangement making you smile and the fragrance of the flowers shutting your eyes. “This is so sweet, Dongmin. Thank you.”

“It’s nothing,” he was quick on his feet saying that, relaxing at that moment as he watched you admiring the flowers. “Also, what are you doing on December 24th?”

“Honestly, since both of my parents are on that trip and my sister is with her family, I was just thinking of binge-watching the Harry Potter saga and ordering food.” You said, and it was like a December miracle for Taesan. “Why the question?”

He inhaled deeply and tried to maintain his composure. “I was wondering if you’d let me take you out for dinner on Christmas Eve.”

Your pretty eyes went straight up to him, big and round in surprise and slowly melting into a softer look. “Like a date?”

“Yeah. But it’s okay if you don’t want it; probably me asking that question makes you feel weird. I’m so sorry; you can act like nothing—”

“I would love to go on a date with you.” You interrupted him, and that’s when he paid close attention to you; your cheeks were flushed, and an unusual shy smile was on your face. A pretty view for him.

Taesan just stood there, blinking a few times, processing your answer as his heart leaped at your words. “Wait. You would?” His question was practically whispered in order to not fool himself.

“Yes. I have Christmas activities with my sister’s family in the afternoon of the 25th, and I’d really like to spend my Christmas Eve with you.”

Taesan’s early awkwardness was a fast exchange for pure joy, a smile on his face exteriorizing what he was feeling at that moment. “Okay, great! I will text you what you have to wear and the time. I’ll pick you up.”

The sound of the bells announcing that the act will start in less than two minutes made you both flinch a little, popping the bubble you two created. You started stepping back, tripping with a table on the way and laughing because of your nerves. At least he was not tripping this time.

“Sounds amazing! I mean… yeah. I’ll be in touch with you.” you said, your voice trailing off and an embarrassed look on your face. “I got to go to place the kids. See you on the 24th!” 

This time you ran to the dressing rooms, noticing how you held the flowers so carefully it might fall. When he saw that nobody was around, he couldn’t help but jump in joy because he did; he got out of his comfort zone and decided to give himself another chance to love. He ran back to his place with his parents; his mother didn’t even let him sit.

“Did she say ‘yes’?” Taesan looked at his mom, the smile still on his face, giving her mom a nod; she slapped him on the shoulder in happiness. 

Taesan sat watching the curtain being opened again, paying close attention to his son but already feeling completely excited a week in advance.

Taesan checked himself in the full-length mirror located in the living room. Dohyun was deep in sleep after reading him a fairytale with his parents. The clock was pointing to 7 pm, and it was about time to pick up Y/N from her place; he sighed in a way to calm his nerves out.

“You look really handsome, son.” His mother's voice made him look at her through the mirror, giving her a side smile. She came next to him and moved him so both could be face to face. She fixed his son's tie and the collar of the long coat he was wearing to protect himself from the cold. “Why are you nervous?”

“I haven’t had a date in like six years.”

“It's because you were healing, son. Losing someone as precious as Dohyun’s mom was, it takes time to close that wound. But I’m proud that you’re ready to open your heart again.”

For the first time in a long time, his mom cupped his face; her eyes were watery, trying to keep her tears from falling. “Y/N is a wonderful young girl, and if Dohyun adores her, then you can bet she’s special.”

“Thanks, Mom, that means a lot.” He squeezed her hands on her face and gave her a kiss. 

“Go get her son.” She gave one last encouraging word, and she extended a small present that he bought for the girl. He grabbed the car keys, saying goodbye on the way out. 

The car ride to your house, he had to put on some music, distracting himself and only making a small stop at the flower shop once again, Sungho was already outside with another bouquet, this time with red roses and winter greenery, tied together with a pretty green ribbon resting on the passenger seat.

He shut down the car in front of your house, taking a deep breath before stepping out with the flowers. He knocked on your door with his heart beating faster.

“Coming down!” He started to look around; the streets were decorated, and the lights were as colorful as they could be. He listened to your heels and paid attention to the door being open, his mouth opened a little, taken aback by you.

You were dressed in a long, deep emerald green dress; a long coat was also draped over your shoulders, and your hairstyle framed your face like a picture he won’t forget. 

“Wow…” he couldn’t help but say that out loud, making your cheeks flush to the compliment. “You look breathtaking; I have no words.” 

Your smile widened at his sincere reaction as you stepped out onto the porch. “Thank you, Taesan. You look perfect; I love it.”

He held out the bouquet of roses with his signature shy smile. “These are for you.”

You took the flowers, smelling the sweet fragrance that made you calm your own nerves. “They’re perfect. Let me put these in water before we go.” You disappeared into the house briefly, leaving him to exhale deeply as he watched your figure respectfully from behind.

When you returned, he offered you his arm like a gentleman. “Shall we?”

You chuckled, slipping your arm through his. “We shall.”

The car ride was filled with a comfortable silence at first, the soft hum of holiday jazz playing in the background. Occasionally, you couldn’t help but glance at him, the way his fingers tapped the steering wheel in rhythm with the music, his focused view on the road, and even his focused pouts that made you smile without him noticing it.

He caught you looking once and shot you a quick, boyish grin that made your stomach flutter.

“So, are you going to tell me where we’re going, or is it a surprise?” you asked.

“A little bit of both. Actually, we just arrived.” He pulled into the parking lot of a cozy, upscale restaurant adorned with twinkling fairy lights and garlands. The festive ambiance spilling out onto the snowy street caught your eye the moment you stepped out of the car when he opened the door for you.

“Taesan, this looks amazing.”

“I’m glad you think so. I wanted tonight to feel special for the both of us.” He paused a second before he showed the palm of his hand. “May I?”

You didn’t hesitate on putting your hand, interwining your fingers, “Yes, Dongmin.” 

Inside, the restaurant was even more magical. There were candles flickering on every table, a live jazz band in the corner giving amazing ambiance, and the waiter already pointing at your table. Taesan opened the chair for you, and when you sat, he went directly to his spot. 

Your table was near the fireplace, and you were thankful for that because of the cold weather. Your coats were being taken away, and you looked at him directly in his eyes.

“Be honest: how long have you been planning this?”

You could see his ears turning red, a sheepish smile making your heart skip. “If we speak about me building the courage to ask you on a date, a couple of months. If we talk about the date, it came all together this week.”

“Months?” Your surprise was genuine, and he simply nodded. He didn’t seem to be that shy anymore, a small amount of confidence in his aura. “I had no idea.”

“We were busy, and I wanted it to be perfect,” he admitted, leaning slightly forward, his hands resting on the table.

“Well, so far, it’s perfect. Probably the best Christmas Eve I’ve ever had in all my twenty years.”

His gaze softened with relief. “That’s great to hear.”

“Good evening, I’m Jihoon, your waiter of the night. Here are your menus, and let me know what you would like to eat.” You two gave a small bow and opened the cards. Taesan sneaked a few looks at you when you glanced over the options.

“What would you recommend? You seem to know this place pretty well.” you said, setting your menu down.

He gave a low chuckle. “Their steak is fantastic, but if you’re not a fan of that, the salmon is also great. Or… we could share a couple of appetizers and try different things."

“Look at you, already planning for us to share.” You raised an eyebrow playfully.

“Just an idea,” he shrugged, grinning at you.

After placing your orders and receiving them, the conversations flowed effortlessly. From favorite holiday memories to even sharing facts about you two, Taesan is already doing mental notes for anything in the future.

“I can’t believe you were always selected for the school shows when you were little. No wonder Dohyun dances so well.” You laugh as you drink your glass of wine. Taesan raised his shoulders, feeling proud.

“It’s true,” he said, his new playful side shining. “I was a star back in the day. They couldn't resist my moves. And now Dohyun’s carrying my legacy.”

You laughed again, infecting him in the process. “I’d love to see old videos of that. I bet you were adorable.”

“Oh no, you’d never let me live it down.”

“Probably not,” you teased, swirling your wine glass. “But it’d be worth it.”

He shook his head, smiling. “I’ll think about it. Maybe if this goes well, I might show you.”

You decided to mess with him a little, so you tilted your head, faking curiosity. “‘If this goes well?’ You mean it’s not going well already?”

You saw how he froze for a moment before realizing your teasing tone. “Oh no, it’s going perfectly. I just mean—uh, you know, if you’d want to go out again sometime.”

“I think I’d like that, Taesan.” You let that grin escape from your lips naturally.

The plates were cleared in the middle of the conversation, being changed by a dessert—a shared crème brûlée that Taesan insisted you try first—he watched you with a soft gaze, a gaze that made your heart flutter.

“Want to know something?” You broke the caramelized sugar with your spoon as well as the silence. “I didn’t expect this night to feel so comfortable.”

“Really? How so?” he asked with his brow raising slightly with his curiosity peaking. You extend your spoon with a portion of the dessert in it right in front of him; he looks at you seriously, and you put on your best doe eyes.

Contrary to your belief, he took the spoon and copied your movements before. “I insist, Y/N. Try it first.” His voice was deep and warm. It made you feel a shiver down your spine, and, reluctantly, you took the spoonful of dessert, the creamy sweetness melting on your tongue. 

“Oh my God, wow,” he smirked, satisfied at your reaction.

“Told you. This place never disappoints.” He grabbed another spoon and ate a portion he picked himself. You two were still eating and talking when the waiter came.

“Sorry for interrupting, but it’s already late, and we need to close. Here’s your bill.” Taesan and you looked at each other, wide-eyed in disbelief. You grab your phone from your purse and gasp.

“Taesan, it’s 11 o’clock.” You put your phone back in your purse to grab your wallet but stopped when Taesan gave you a soft look, giving his credit card to the waiter.

“I’ll take you home right after this. No worries,” he said, caressing your hand with his free hand.

“Thank you, but next time, I’m paying,” you crossed your arms playfully.

“Next time? I’ll hold you to that.” The payment was fast, and you saw another waiter holding both of your coats. The female waitress put the coat softly over your shoulders and so did Taesan once he put the card back in his wallet.

The moment you stepped out into the cold night air, the crystal door finally had the “close” sign. As you two walked to the car hand in hand, snowflakes began to fall gently from the sky, settling on your hair and on the coat like they were feathers. “It’s snowing,” you murmured, your breath visible in the cold air.

Taesan glanced up and then back at you, his steps slowing down as he admired you. “It is,” his voice was almost like a whisper, but loud enough for you to hear. “Kind of perfect, isn’t it?”

“It truly is.” When you reached the car, he opened the door for you; his hand brushed yours as you got in, and he slid into the driver’s seat and started the engine.

The drive back to your house was quiet but comfortable, taking your time driving since the streets were not completely full due to the people sleeping or celebrating either in a bar in Itaewon or in their houses. 

When he finally pulled up to your house after a beautiful trip watching the lights, he turned to you, his hand resting on the steering wheel. “We have finally arrived. I had a really great time.”

“Me too, Taesan. It was unforgettable.”

“But before we finish this night, I have one last thing.” Taesan stretches himself to open the glove compartment, revealing a small box wrapped in Christmas-designed paper. He took it and waited for you to react. “It’s 10 minutes till Christmas, but happy holidays, Y/N.”

Your breath hitched as you stared at the gift in his hands; it had been a long time since you celebrated either the holidays or received something, the reason why your eyes were watering a little. “Taesan, you didn’t have to…”

“I wanted to. Go on, open it.”

You carefully peeled back the wrapping under his sight, and you actually couldn’t contain your happiness. Inside was a delicate bracelet; the center had a small charm of a sun that shimmered under the light.

“I picked the sun because, it may sound cliché, but you have this light that attracts people and makes everything warmer and brighter with just your presence. just like the sun,” he finished with a soft and genuine smile. His words settle over you like the snowflakes outside.

You blinked, a tear falling as you smiled. “Dongmin, I don’t even know what to say.”

“Say you’ll wear it,” he offered with a small smile. His fingers brushed against yours as he gently took the bracelet from the box. “Here, let me.”

His hands were warm despite the chill in the air; they were as warm as your heart. You’ve never felt this loved by somebody aside from your family, and this dinner just confirmed that you had more than just a crush on Dongmin. Once it was secured, he turned your wrist, taking a risk to deposit a kiss on your hand.

“All done.” Your eyes met, and it was like time was running slowly, all to both of your favor to taste the moment. 

“You’ve just created an amazing Christmas Eve.” This time, you cupped his face with your free hand, feeling how his thumb traced imaginary figures on the skin of your hand.

“I’m happy to hear that. Should we call it a night?” he asked softly, though his tone hinted he didn’t really want the evening to end.

“Only if you promise there’ll be more dates.”

His grin was immediate; his confidence shines through his aura. “I promise. Many more.”

“Then, yes. We can call it a night.” You both laughed, the feeling of tenderness in every fiber of your body.

“Let me walk you through the door.” After Taesan said that, he stepped out of the car before you could even protest, quickly rounded the vehicle, and opened your door, offering his hand to help you out.

As you reached the small porch, you took out your phone, watching exactly that there was one minute till Christmas, and you smiled. You stopped your steps, and Taesan did the same, looking at you with tenderness.

“Everything okay?” he asked, tilting his head in an adorable manner.

“Yes, I’m just waiting for the midnight fireworks.” You pointed to the sky; the moon shined brightly, and you could see how he was focused on seeing the moment. “Taesan?”

“Yes?” His gaze went back to yours; his hair had some snowflakes that made him look adorable.

“I want to give you something; just close your eyes.” He raised his eyebrows in surprise but didn’t hesitate to do it. Your gaze went back to the phone, then seconds.

You put your things carefully beside you on the floor, your eyes on his pretty pink lips, before closing your eyes and putting your lips on top of his. The fireworks decided to join as background noise and the cheer of some people in the street who were watching the show. But that truly didn’t matter.

The world seemed to pause in the warmth of the kiss. Taesan froze for a moment, startled, but quickly melted into the moment. His hand cupped your cheek gently as the other one snaked to your waist, pulling you closer to him.

He wanted to cuss when you finally pulled back, breathless and cheeks flushed, your eyes found him staring at you with wide eyes with his lips parted slightly in surprise. “That’s… quite the Christmas gift.”

Taesan’s eyes caught something above your head and gave a soft laugh, pointing at the object. “You’ve been planning this, haven’t you?”

“In my defense, my sister decorated the entrance. But I’m grateful for it.” You both were now staring at the mistletoe.

“That makes two of us,” Taesan replied softly. his hand now holding both of your hands. You took his hands and kissed them before taking all your stuff from the ground, taking the key of the house, and opening it. You stayed in the door frame with a silly smile on your face.

“Merry Christmas, Dongmin.” You spoke, and he did a small bow to you.

“Merry Christmas, Y/N,” he said. He started to walk away, and you closed the door. You left your stuff on the table beside the entrance as your back was resting on the door, your heart beating like crazy. A few seconds pass, and you get startled by a knock on the door.

You opened fully when you saw Taesan again.

“Is there something—” His lips crashed with yours, his hands on your waist with confidence, and your hands simply traveled to the back of his head. He lifted you from the ground without breaking the kiss, spinning in the same spot, smiling in the middle of the kiss.

When Taesan finally set you down, both of you were breathless with your foreheads resting against each other, shy and giddy smiles on your faces.

“I couldn’t leave without doing that,” he confessed, his thumbs gently brushing your sides and your hands on his shoulders, trying to steady yourself.

“And I couldn’t let you go without telling you why this date was so comfortable to me,” you sighed, feeling your heart rising as the nerves came back to you. “I really like you, Dongmin, and I would love to be your new chance to love again. I don’t care that you’re a single dad; I don’t care if you made mistakes in the past; what I care about right now is if you feel the same way as I do.”

With each word you said, you saw how his gaze got softer. “You’ve no idea how long I've been trying to find the right moment to say it, but I’m going to say the truth. I’ve been a little scared of what it could mean and of what might come next. But you turned my life upside down with just a smile and gave me the courage to finally do it.”

His hands grabbed yours, the tension beginning to ease away as your feelings were reciprocated. “I’m all in if you let me, Y/N. I’m ready to try and make you fall in love each day.”

“Dongmin, I’m already in love.” His hands slid from your hands to hold your face the second you said that, initiating a softer and slower kiss. You both could feel all the positive emotions in your bodies. Even more joy.

“God, I’m glad I didn’t leave,” Taesan whispered, making you chuckle, your heart swelling with warmth.

“I’m glad you stayed.” His smile was all you needed to confirm that this was right, that love had found its way to both of you in a way neither of you expected, yet both had been yearning for.

─── IT BEGAN TO LOOK A LOT LIKE CHRISTMAS! and this present is for all my people in @onedoornet thank you for this amazing year and let's keep growing this community. forever grateful with @gluion for letting me in ❅

[egcdeath]

sealing the deal

pairing: patrick zweig x reader

summary: you and patrick make a few unique business proposals to each other.

word count: 7k

warnings: succession au – tomshiv dynamic (pre-failmarriage), proposals (business and romantic), fluff, a little angst, mentions of a dad being very sick/almost dying, lots of exposition/background on the relationship, art cameo, a little domesticity, established relationship

author’s note: you don’t have to know anything about succession to enjoy this fic! i’ll explain everything that you need to know. if you’re a diehard succession fan i can’t promise that everything will be completely faithful to the source material but it definitely takes a lot of inspiration from tom and shiv’s dynamic.

i wanted to give a HUGE thank you to my succession anon who gave me so much help and guidance for this fic and basically ended up being my co-author for this fic! i hope you all enjoy :)

It wasn’t always easy loving the youngest son of the owner of a multi-billion dollar media conglomerate. 

In fact, most of the time, it was quite the opposite. 

Even without Patrick working in his family’s business, it always felt a little bit like you were in a competition for brain space and time with his family and career, and you were losing. Badly. 

You weren’t exactly sure that you knew what you signed up for when you first met Patrick��connected to each other by a mutual friend you went to business school with, whom you’d begged to try to set you two up for career advancement purposes more than anything else. 

“You know that guy you keep asking me about?” your friend asked you after taking a hefty sip from the drink the bartender just passed her. 

“Patrick Zweig?” you asked, not bothering to pretend like you didn’t know who she was talking about. 

“Yeah!” she laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world. You weren’t sure where she was going with this subject, but you were intrigued by her mention of the man and her apparent entertainment at the situation. 

“What about him?” you asked, perversely curious as to why she was bringing him up now. 

“I invited him to come out with us tonight!” she laughed once more as she divulged this information, as if it wasn’t shocking news to you.  

“What? What the fuck? Why didn’t you tell me before!” you practically yelled at her over the sound of loud music and other bar patrons. You suddenly felt very self conscious. If you’d known you were going to meet Patrick Zweig tonight, you would’ve put yourself together, rather than coming straight from work to the bar. 

“I wanted to surprise you!” she continued with her giggling at a situation that you did not find nearly as humorous. “Oh my god. I wish you could see your face right now.”

“I hate you!” you laughed, thinking that maybe this was some sort of prank. “You’re joking, then?”

“No, he’s really coming. He just got back from D.C. and wanted to meet with me. I asked if my hot friend could come along and he was like, ‘Obviously!’”

You groaned aloud. This wasn’t how you intended to make your first impression on him.

“Okay, well, what’s his type?” you asked her, hoping to get a bit of insight before you were launched right into what might end up being your first date. You were sure that you would make a good impression if you showed up as you were, but you wanted to be better than good. You didn’t want to be just another forgettable notch on his bedpost.

“I don’t know,” she sighed, taking a sip from her drink. “Hot? A nice ass? A little mean? Isn’t that every guy’s type?”

“You’re not taking this seriously enough for me,” you replied. You wanted to have a strategy going into this. You would’ve appreciated at least a small briefing before meeting someone so intimidating. 

“I am, you just check all the boxes already. Just be yourself and I’m sure things will work out fine,” she assured you. 

Her assurance was well warranted, considering that things worked out far better than fine. In fact, your friend was overdue for a fruit basket—one that you would be paying for with Patrick’s credit card as you sat in the dining room of your shared penthouse apartment, after you wrapped up a day of work in the skyscraper that was his father’s corporate headquarters. 

At the time, you had a slight idea of who he was, but you had an even better idea of who his family was. Anyone who owned a television would be familiar with his family’s corporation—from the causal channel surfers who passed one of their many news channels during their search for the newest episode of The Bachelor, to the thousands of people with their logo burned into their device screen from the hours they spent with their eyes locked on the 24-hour stream of borderline propaganda. 

Beyond his impressive family, you’d heard whispers and rumors about Patrick for a long time. Between headlines in gossip magazines and stories from your mutual friend, you learned that he’d entered the political world as an attempt to make a name for himself outside of his family name, but struggled to be taken seriously for many years due to the less than stellar reputation that came with being a Zweig.

Although, rumors about his career were just the tip of the iceberg. Gossip about his tumultuous relationships—if they could even be called that—and history of partying far too hard often ran wild, making you believe that your initial meetings with Patrick would be nothing more than a few hookups and sweet talking yourself into a new job. After all, there was no better pillow talk than an elevator pitch. 

At first, your plan seemed like it was right on track. You ended your first night together in the early morning, finding yourself in Patrick’s apartment for hours. Your night hadn’t really ever ended, with the two of you leaving the bar together, having some of the best sex of your life in a bed that felt a little bit like laying on a cloud, then proceeding to talk for hours until it was time for you to go back to work. You smiled to yourself as you sat in the backseat of Patrick’s car, exhausted from the long night and a little uncomfortable in yesterday’s clothes, but mostly enthusiastic after your surprisingly eventful night with the man. 

It was a strange turn of events from what you initially expected. While you couldn’t be too sure what you were getting yourself into when you learned you were being set up on a date, you assumed that Patrick would be like any other rich asshole you’d gone out on dates with, who got what they wanted from you, sent you off on your merry way, then never spoke to you again. You quickly discovered that he was unlike anyone you’d ever been with before. 

Patrick seemed to be full of surprises, and the fact that you were going on multiple dates with him in the first place was one of those very surprises. You hadn’t expected to go on any more than three dates before you asked about working for his family, securing yourself a job, then leaving him alone. 

What took you by even greater surprise were the dates themselves. What started as an intimate dinner in one of the most exclusive restaurants in the city ended with you at a terrible 24-hour diner, treating Patrick to his first slice of cherry pie as you talked into the wee hours of the morning. 

Your subsequent dates went similarly, with the two of you talking endlessly about anything and everything. Patrick was someone full of surprises—he was far from the rich asshole you expected him to be, and more like a knowledgeable politics nerd with a lot of money. 

You talked for hours about big things, like why Patrick decided to pursue a career as a political strategist and what brought you to New York City, but you also found it easy to discuss small random things with him, spending an extended period of time discussing how you named your cat, and debating on the best restaurant in the city. 

You always thought of yourself as being somewhat agreeable and friendly when it came to conversation, but your discussions with Patrick took you by surprise. You weren’t sure you’d ever clicked with someone the way you clicked with him, and it made you as excited as it made you nervous. 

By the time you worked up the nerve to ask Patrick about working for his family, you were already beat to the punch. The two of you were tucked into the booth that you’d recently declared as yours in the same diner that you seemed to be spending all of your all-nighters in, reclining comfortably in the particularly uncomfortable seats. 

“Do you like the business side of things?” Patrick asked you, stirring a flattening Diet Coke with a straw. 

“It’s fun,” you dismissed. “It’s less fun going to work on a half-hour of sleep.”

“Shut up. You love it,” the man across from you laughed, an admittedly very handsome half-smile on his face. “I mean it though. Do you like what you’re doing?”

“It pays the bills, I guess. I like the work, but I’m not huge on the company. All the politics and the instability with layoffs lately… It isn’t exactly ideal.”

“Would you ever work for my family?” he asked. “I mean, you’re just wasting potential elsewhere. I really think they could use someone like you on their team.”

“Seriously?” you asked, partially surprised at the proposition, but mostly surprised that you weren’t the one to ask in the first place. Across the table, Patrick listened to you intently. “I mean, If they’d have me, I’d love to work for them.”

“My dad mentioned something about them looking for some new blood. I can put in a good word for you, if that sounds interesting to you.”

“Is this because I showed you the joys of a slice of diner cherry pie?” you joked, trying not to let on just how overjoyed you were about this opportunity. 

“You got me. And now that you mention it, we should probably order another slice,” he suggested, going along with your joke. “You’re smart and you clearly know your shit. Besides, I’m mostly doing it for myself. It’ll be nice to have someone around at company Christmas parties who can actually keep up with me.”

“Well, thank you,” you replied calmly, though you were doing somersaults in your mind. “I look forward to drinking eggnog and singing Mariah Carey songs with you.”

In retrospect, you recognized this action as the first of his many wordless declarations of love. You later learned that Patrick did everything he could to avoid talking business with his family, as it was clearly a sore spot for everyone involved. Realizing that he’d gone out of his way to get you a job had been an even more kind gesture than you knew at the time. 

While you initially expected your fling to taper off after Patrick fulfilled his end of the business deal he didn’t even know he was facilitating, your relationship did nothing of the sort. In fact, his favor seemed to have the opposite effect on your bond. 

Before you knew it, the two of you were courting each other like lovesick Jane Austen protagonists. In another shocking turn of events, Patrick ordered flowers to your doorstep each morning and took you on lavish dates, while you began to take four-hour long train rides to and from D.C. each weekend to visit him, and frequently sent him rambling love letters. 

While you hadn’t expected for your relationship to unfold the way that it did, you genuinely loved Patrick. You loved the way his eyes crinkled when you told him something stupid that he’d laugh at, or how he leaned in to whisper something judgmental in your ear about someone you mutually disliked during family events. You loved the way his hand felt in yours and the way his mind worked, which he frequently displayed to you while discussing his latest political strategy. You even loved when he minced words to describe how he felt about you, knowing that though the word ‘love’ might never leave his lips, his actions spoke far louder than his voice ever could. 

It just so happened that you loved his proximity to power, too. 

While his money and power might have piqued your interest initially, it didn’t change the fact that the two of you quickly clicked. You had a natural chemistry, with you matching Patrick’s flirty words and actions with ease. It also just so happened that you entered each other's lives at the perfect time, with you in dire need of a career upgrade, and Patrick in need of someone unafraid to show him more affection and care than he was willing to give. 

Though he wasn’t the best at communicating his feelings, you quickly became a tenured professor in Patrick-ology. You were certain that this played a role in why Patrick liked you so much in the first place—being somewhat emotionally stunted, he needed someone who could understand his thoughts without him having to explicitly say every detail, and you did exactly that. 

This skill worked out surprisingly well for you. You gave him the love and understanding that he’d been looking for and missing for all of his adult life, and you got to reap the benefits that came with being in a relationship with someone in one of the most powerful families in the world. 

Despite your more humble beginnings, you quickly became familiar with luxurious items and activities. You also quickly learned that no matter how prepared you thought you were for that level of wealth—you weren’t. You couldn’t even begin to count the amount of times your unfamiliarity with certain norms left you as the laughing stock of the family. 

But it wasn’t all corner offices in skyscrapers and helicopter rides. During the honeymoon phase of your relationship, it certainly felt like it, but the cracks in your foundation became more and more evident every day. 

The thing was, as much as you two cared about each other, there was a family shaped shadow that loomed over everything that you did. It was clear that you were an outsider in Patrick’s family. Coming from an upper-middle class Midwestern background, you were often made to feel like you were a stupid gold-digger, only staying around your boyfriend for power, rather than love. At times, you wondered if his family knew what love was at all. 

The love, or lack thereof in Patrick’s family was what shocked you most of all. It was no secret that his father was unnecessarily cruel to all of his children, but particularly to his siblings trying to work their way into more serious positions in the company. Patrick somehow managed to dodge that particular flavor of cruelty, with him very obviously being his father’s favorite and working outside of the family business, but the emotional scars his father left still lingered. 

But his father’s presence didn’t just loom over him, it was beginning to loom over you, too. Not only in the extreme intimidation you felt when having to interact with him, but in the small acts of callousness Patrick showed you throughout the course of your relationship. 

It began as small things, things that bothered you less the more you got used to them. Like how he always seemed to unconsciously belittle your work, not even bothering to seem interested in the recaps you gave of your day before he launched into a story of his own about the candidate he was working with. Though you tried your hardest to fight through your smaller pet peeves with him, Patrick’s inability to be straightforward about his emotions felt like the cherry on top of an already painful sundae.

Regardless of all of the flaws, bumps, and roadblocks in your relationship, you promised to yourself that you would be in Patrick’s corner, no matter how ugly things got or how poorly he treated you. Not only out of your own self-interest, but out of your love for the man, and the knowledge of how difficult his upbringing made certain things for him. 

Which was why when you got the call from Patrick that something had gone terribly wrong with his father while coming back from his birthday celebration, you didn’t hesitate to rush to the hospital, encouraging your driver to speed all the way to the building. 

When you arrived, he and his siblings were in disarray in a way you’d never seen before. His father, who was typically a presence that towered over everyone in the room, was reduced to an old man hooked up to a number of machines. His older sisters, who were always either waiting for the moment to swoop in and make a crude joke or waiting in the wings to discuss the next business strategy, paced back and forth endlessly, clearly feeling the pressure of their sick father.

Patrick sat alone on an uncomfortable chair, peering helplessly into the observation room. It was rare for you to see him with his feelings written so openly across his face, even after years of being in a relationship with him. That concerned you.

You made quick work of walking over to Patrick, whose tensed-up shoulders slightly dropped as you took a seat next to him. Though he wouldn’t ever tell you this, you knew that your presence made him feel more supported and a little more safe, though you being or not being in the hospital clearly wouldn’t have an impact on if his father lived or died. 

“Hey,” he greeted you, immediately squeezing your hand. “Thanks for coming,” he said weakly, as if he was fighting off a new round of tears. In that moment, you so desperately wanted to take some of his emotions for yourself, knowing that Patrick hated feeling any feeling, let alone such negative feelings to such a serious degree. 

“Of course, honey,” you reassured him, running what you hoped would be a grounding hand up and down his arm. “Is there anything I can get you? Coffee? Water? A snack? I saw that burger place you like on my way over.”

“No, nothing right now,” he sighed. You inspected him cautiously, knowing that he wasn’t exactly one to always say what he meant. “Really,” he assured you, though you didn’t completely buy it. 

Since he wasn’t in the mood for more material items, you decided that the best course of action was a little affection. He wasn’t always the biggest fan of receiving affection in front of his family, but you figured that in a time where he was uncertain if his father would live or die, he would appreciate a little outward support. 

You laid your head on his shoulder and angled your body closer to his. Not expecting any response, you were surprised when Patrick kissed the top of your head. “I’m glad you’re here,” he told you quietly, his voice barely above a whisper, as if he’d be in trouble if someone overheard him. 

You held his hand as the two of you sat for hours, only getting up to stretch your legs or take phone calls from friends with insight on other high-end medical facilities that might be able to better accommodate Patrick’s father. 

You did your best to give Patrick his space when he needed it, as he floated between two of his siblings—one of which was focused mainly on the future of the company, and the other in a state of denial about the state of her father—then back to you when he could no longer stand the chaos of his sisters. 

It was a stressful scene, and one that was clearly too much for your boyfriend, who went back and forth between wanting to be glued at your hip, and wanting to be left completely alone. You’d seen Patrick stressed in the past, with him chatting your ear off as he waited for his candidate’s election results, or as he prepared to give a speech at an event, but you’d never seen him like this. 

He almost seemed fragile, like one wrong word or action might break him. It frightened you to see him in such a state. Again, you lamented not being able to take some of his pain for yourself. 

In the time that you waited without any word from any doctors, a few gears began to turn in your mind. Life was so fleeting, which was proven by Patrick’s mighty father falling so seemingly easily. Really, it could’ve been any of you sitting on that table with tubes and monitors attached to you. If it were Patrick who was sitting on that gurney, you would be an absolute wreck. If he somehow died, you also wouldn’t technically be a widow, despite your long-term relationship with the man. 

All of it made you wonder if you should just bite the bullet and propose to Patrick.

Sure, it wasn’t the best timing ever. Sure, you’d always imagined yourself being on the receiving end of a grand proposal, especially from someone like Patrick. But maybe he would appreciate the gesture—giving him a distraction to take away some of his pain, and giving him one final grand milestone with you while his dad was still alive. 

To a lesser extent, being married would provide you with certain protections you didn’t have while you were only his long-term girlfriend. Obviously, you didn’t want to think of anything bad happening to your boyfriend, but accidents and tragedies could happen at any point, and it was better to be prepared than to be sorry. 

It felt right that you might be able to join his family during a time where he was losing a family member. Not only for his sake, but because losing their patriarch meant unprecedented instability in his family. You wanted to be sure of your spot amongst them, after you’d grown used to the privileges that came with being Patrick’s girlfriend. 

You fidgeted with the ring on your middle finger, a family heirloom passed from generation to generation onto you. It was no expensive piece of jewelry, and it certainly wasn’t an engagement ring, but it was incredibly meaningful to you—a symbol of your family, which was extremely important to you. Patrick knew just how much you valued the ring and exactly what it represented to you, so in turn, you hoped that if you gave it to him, he would understand how much he meant to you. 

Getting up from where you’d been sitting for far too long, you began to pace the hallways of the hospital, wondering about the timing of your now imminent proposal. As you shuffled through the sterile building, you surprised yourself as you came across your partner. 

“Patrick!” you said with a start after unexpectedly catching a glimpse of him. 

“Hey,” he greeted unenthusiastically before beginning to walk right past you. 

“Wait,” you grabbed onto his arm before he could fully walk away, encouraging him to look right at you. It was now or never, and the words were on the tip of your tongue. 

“I’m sorry, I really don’t have time for this right now,” he dismissed, his voice monotone and listless. 

“You do, though. Patrick, listen,” he didn’t look like he was in the mood to talk, but was prepared to listen to you anyway. You knew you only had a few seconds to pitch your proposition before you lost him, so you spat out your words rather than beating around the bush. “Let’s get married.”

“What?” he looked at you with brows drawn in confusion. It wasn’t exactly the ideal reaction to your proposal, but then again it wasn’t much of a proposal. “Right now?”

“Obviously not now, but… soon?” as you spoke, you began the process of slipping the ring off your middle finger and attempting to present it to him in the palm of your hand. Sure, it wasn’t the most romantic or put together proposal, but it felt right to be offering him such a grand and personal gesture while everything else was going sideways in his life. 

“I know it’s probably not the best time, but I thought that maybe I could make things a little better with your dad and… I don’t know. I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. If something ever happened to you, I wouldn’t want to wonder about what we could’ve been and-” you rambled on before you were interrupted with a sigh. 

“Honey, you can’t just make my dad dying better,” he rubbed his temple exasperatedly, then looked between you and the ring you were presenting him with. “If you wanted to make me feel better, you should’ve just brought me coffee.”

You frowned at him, knowing that you’d offered him that very thing earlier and he turned you down. You wondered if your communication would ever improve—or if it even needed to improve, since this proposal was going so poorly that you’d probably leave the hospital single. 

“You’re right. I’m sorry,” you closed your palm and put your hand in the pocket of your jacket, fully prepared for Patrick to tell you to fuck all the way off. It had been stupid for you to think that Patrick would appreciate such a grand gesture during such a terrible time. 

“Wait,” Patrick stopped you, now reaching for your arm. “My answer isn’t a no, it’s just… I don’t want this to be the memory. Of course I’ll marry you.”

Doing all the work of getting your hand out of your pocket, he grabbed the ring you presented him with to further prove his words and slipped it on his ringer. It only fit halfway down his finger, but he kept it on regardless. 

“Really?” you said, suddenly perking up.

“Duh,” he replied, looking a little shy as his cheeks turned a light shade of pink and he briefly looked away from you, as if his feelings were so strong that he couldn’t even manage to look you in the eye. 

You couldn’t contain your excitement at his answer, jumping and squealing a little bit as you pulled him into an overly enthusiastic hug. You heard the familiar sound of Patrick laughing quietly in your ear as you squeezed him. Though he always seemed to hold back his emotions, you knew that he was just as excited as you were to be promised to one another.

You pulled him into a soft kiss, draping your arms around his neck, holding him as close as you could until he inevitably pushed you away. 

Patrick surprised you with how long he was willing to embrace you, clearly in need of a little bit of comfort after such an emotionally exhausting night. You surprised yourself when you ended up being the person to pull away. 

“Should we go check on our family?” you asked, not bothering to hide your excitement around finally being in. 

“I just need a second,” he told you, glancing down the hallway before pulling you into yet another embrace. He pressed his face into your hair, soothing himself with your scent and presence. You rubbed circles into his back and muttered something about him taking all the time he needed.

You were interrupted by one of Patrick’s sisters, whose voice called out your names down the hallway. “When you two are finished with your snuggle-fest, the doctor has news for us.”

“Wait, what?” Patrick pushed you away quickly, his tune changing in an instant.

“Good news, I think. But move your asses. C’mon,” she directed, already turning away and Patrick quickly following her. 

If you were experiencing an emotional rollercoaster, you couldn’t even begin to understand how Patrick was feeling. Finding out his dad was sick, being proposed to, and immediately hearing more news about his father in the span of just a few hours must’ve felt unreal. 

You sat quietly and observed from the sidelines as a doctor took them into their father’s room and filled in the siblings on the state of him. They all seemed to share a collective sigh of relief, and though you couldn’t hear the exact news from where you were sitting, you knew that it must’ve been good. 

When Patrick came back to you, he had a hint of a sad smile on his face. “Ready to go?” he asked you. 

He didn’t need you to ask twice. You were more than prepared to escape the too-bright lights, sickeningly sterile scent, and the feeling of sadness that seemed to be hanging in the air of the hospital. 

Your driver was a welcome sight, with him giving you a quiet greeting as the two of you got in the backseat of the car. As he drove, Patrick reached for your hand, which you gladly gave up to him. 

In the following minutes, Patrick crept over further into your space until he sat directly beside you, leaning his head on you with his eyes closed. The long day was surely taking its toll, with the anxiety of his dad being in such dire straits, and the excitement and confusion of you proposing to him. 

His sleep was well earned. You pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, then closed your own eyes, letting the soft sound of the early morning city traffic lull you to sleep. 

In the following days, you could tell that something wasn’t quite right with Patrick. At first, you chalked it up to nerves around his father’s health, but that didn’t seem to be it. Typically, when Patrick was really anxious about something, his silence on the elephant-sized topic gave him away. While you’d heard quite a bit about the state of his father from him—whether it was an update sent to him by his step-mother or an actual visit to the man—you hadn’t heard a peep about your engagement since the day after you got engaged. 

On the other hand, you were struggling to keep the news to yourself, despite the request of Patrick. You wanted to scream the announcement from the rooftops, but in the early morning after you returned from the hospital, Patrick made his position very clear: Wait a little while for things to blow over before you started telling people– your friends and family included. 

Despite the fact that he wore your ring every day since the day that you’d given it to him, something about his behavior told you that it was that very ring that was giving him so much internal conflict. 

In the past few years of knowing Patrick, you learned that he was a bit of a control freak. You wondered how out of control it made him feel for you to be the person to propose to him. Part of you wondered if you should’ve even proposed in the first place if it was going to be an issue. Maybe you should’ve let him do things on his own timeline, rather than making him feel nervous or insecure in your relationship.

But at the same time, Patrick initially seemed rather entertained by the idea of you getting married. In the morning after your engagement, he couldn’t stop referring to you as Mrs. Zweig. At the desk of your brand new office, given to you after a serious promotion, you found a box of expensive chocolates with a note fondly referring to you as his fiancé. As you laid next to him in bed that night, he pulled up the profiles of three separate wedding planners and asked you about your preference in people. 

It almost felt like his feelings on your engagement were constantly fluctuating between being excited to be with you forever, and being terrified of that very commitment. Things weren’t made any better by Patrick’s professional-level ability to dodge questions, especially questions related to how he genuinely felt. 

“C’mon, you know how I feel,” he replied to you after you directly asked him over breakfast. He lifted his mug casually, subconsciously putting space between the two of you. 

“Pat, I don’t. That’s why I asked,” you forced out a laugh, though the situation wasn’t exactly funny to you. If Patrick didn’t want to marry you, you didn’t want to force him to do so. 

“But you always know how I feel,” he said with a bit of a pout and a whine—what you called his ‘let me get away with it’ demeanor that he often used with his family—before setting down his coffee and standing up. 

“Not this time,” you explained, standing up as well and abandoning the plate of half-eaten eggs in front of you. 

“You’ll figure it out,” he dismissed your concerns and stepped close enough to you to hold your face in both of his hands. 

“Love you?” you asked, hoping that if he could confirm that at the very least, you might have a better understanding of what was going through his head. 

“Of course,” he said genuinely, though he didn’t offer you any parroting of those words. Instead, he dropped his hands from your cheeks and kissed one of them. “Have a good day at work, okay?” 

“Yeah. Thanks,” you tried not to look as annoyed as you actually felt as you made quick work of grabbing your work bag and leaving. You needed some time to make sense of it all. 

The situation only became more complicated as you sat down in a conference room, mentally preparing yourself to make your first big presentation as the newly vetted Head of Parks and Cruises division. You cared greatly about what your peers thought about you, so you couldn’t deny the nerves running through your veins. 

These nerves only increased when you caught a glimpse of Patrick from the floor-to-ceiling glass windows of the conference room, shaking hands with people on your floor and clearly making cordial small talk. 

You desperately hoped that he was there to wish you luck on your presentation, and not to pick your conversation from the morning back up. You bitterly thought about how he couldn’t have picked a worse time as he waved at you from the window. You stiffly waved back, not exactly in the mood to be interrupted right before a big presentation. 

“Hey, if I don’t make it back for whatever reason, you can do this presentation, right?” you asked quietly, leaning into your newly-hired assistant’s ear. 

“Wait, what?” he asked you, brows furrowing. “I don’t know, I haven’t practiced or anything, and-“

“Perfect,” you replied, not listening to a single word he was rambling out. “Just read off the slides. You’ll be okay.”

You didn’t bother staying to listen to Art ramble in your ear about how he didn’t know what he was doing. Hopefully, he wouldn’t be the one presenting, and if he absolutely had to, he’d probably be fine. 

You shut the door behind you, politely waving at one of your co-workers as they entered the conference room. You made your way to Patrick and stood with your arms crossed against your chest, trying to strike a good balance between showing him how agitated you were, and not trying to further agitate your fiancé, who seemed to be in a particularly fragile mental state lately. 

“Hi honey, is anything important going on?” Patrick asked once you stood across from him. 

“Actually, yeah. Is there any way we could chat a little later? Like maybe an hour or two?” you suggested. “I can block some time off on my calendar for you and everything.”

“I’m sure whatever it is isn’t more important than this,” he glanced over at the conference room as he spoke to demonstrate his point. You wished you could explain to him how far that was from the truth.

“What is it?” you asked, your patience beginning to grow thin.

“You’ll have to see. Come with me?” he offered. 

“Patrick, I’m in the middle of a meeting!” you whisper-shouted, trying to keep your voice down and your body language mostly neutral, so your colleagues couldn’t observe how much you were freaking out as you talked to your partner. 

“It hasn’t started yet,” he dismissed casually. “They’ll be fine without you. I won’t be fine without you.”

You eyed him suspiciously. 

“Please,” he added, as if you’d ever be able to say no to him—though you were pretty tempted to do so. 

“Fine,” you gave in with a small, soft sigh. That didn’t deter Patrick at all, who seemed uncharacteristically excited as the two of you sat in the backseat of his car. 

“So where are we going? Or, what are we doing?” you asked, trying to ignore the terrible feeling in your gut that you felt about leaving your meeting. 

“It’s a surprise,” Patrick said coyly. “It’ll be more fun than that meeting, though.”

“I’m sure,” you replied, looking out the window. You hoped that whatever romantic gesture Patrick planned would be worth losing the respect of all of your peers. You wondered what you could tell them that would make your absence seem acceptable. Family emergency? It wasn’t exactly a lie. It wasn’t quite the truth either. 

When your ride stopped and you stepped out of the vehicle, you were surprised to find yourself at the diner that you spent the majority of your first few dates at, splitting pieces of pie and talking each other’s ears off for hours. 

“Craving some cherry pie?” you asked him curiously. Obviously, this seemed like a task he could’ve handled on his own, coming to the diner himself or having his driver buy and deliver him a whole pie, but you figured that maybe he was simply in the mood for some nostalgic comfort. In the midst of such chaos, you would be happy to give that to him. 

“It’s been too long,” he shrugged before grabbing your hand.

Patrick led you to the booth that you declared as yours all those years ago, and began to chat your ear off like normal. While you wanted to think about work, it was surprisingly easy to forget about the real world when you were in such a nostalgic place with him. 

The two of you ordered your old usual order, only enhancing the feeling of nostalgia as you shared a plate of painfully average pancakes and a slice of cherry pie.

“Ew, what is that?” you laughed after you bit into something hard and gross. “This fucking place,” you muttered, looking for a napkin that you could spit out whatever it was that you almost just consumed. 

When you glanced down at the napkin, you were shocked to find what looked like a metal ring covered in cherry syrup. “Oh shit. Do you think this belonged to someone?” 

Once you looked up, you were shocked to find Patrick holding a black velvet box, one that you’d seen before nearly a year ago as you deep-cleaned your shared bedroom, one that you chalked up as a gift for his mother or a friend. 

“Patrick?” you asked, clearly confused. He parroted your name right back to you and opened up the box, showing you one of the most beautiful rings you ever laid your eyes on. 

Suddenly, it made sense why he asked you to come out with him, interrupting you in the middle of the day to take you to a diner where you shared so many memories. Sure, he could’ve waited until you got off work, but you figured he was thinking about your conversation from the morning and wanted to do something that would show you how much he truly cared about you. He’d always been better at bigger gestures than verbally sharing his feelings, so part of you remained unsurprised. 

“I first fell in love with you here, so it only felt right to bring you back here to ask you to marry me?” he explained, not breaking eye contact with you. He was never one for a soapbox when it came to sharing his feelings, so his proposal was short and straight to the point. Though, you wondered if he had more words prepared that he simply couldn’t get out. Based on the speed of his leg bouncing under the table, you knew that Patrick was nervous out of his mind—despite him already knowing what your answer was. 

You recalled what Patrick told you in the hospital about not wanting your proposal to be the memory—the memory you told others about when you shared the news, or fondly recalled to your kids in ten years when you reminisced on your love story. 

If accepting his proposal now, and acting like his proposal was the only proposal made him feel better, you didn’t see any reason why you wouldn’t fully lean into it.

“Oh my god!” you exclaimed, genuinely being surprised at the offer, but playing up your excitement for the sake of your nervous fiancé. “Of course I’ll marry you, Pat.”

Patrick broke into a toothy grin, his excitement contagious to you. “Give me your hand,” he directed, taking the ring out of the box. 

He slipped the ring onto your finger, and it somehow looked even better on your finger than it did in the box. You looked at it in amazement curling and uncurling your hand to look at the ring from all of its angles. 

“It’s gorgeous, Patrick. Thank you,” you told him earnestly as you looked from your hand to him. You weren’t surprised by the quality of the ring or even that he found something that you liked so much. Growing up with lavish gifts constantly being given as an expression of ‘love’ made Patrick pretty damn good at giving you gifts. As for the other expressions of love… he wasn’t the best. But he was very obviously trying his best for you, and you loved that about him. 

In some ways, your proposals felt like the perfect encapsulation of your roles in your relationship. While you offered Patrick a ring with little monetary, but high emotional value, he gave you a ring that was probably more expensive than you could ever fathom, that didn’t have the same emotional ties that your family heirloom of a ring did. 

Beyond the appearance or symbolism behind your rings, and despite your very different proposals, you were ecstatic to be engaged to Patrick. It only felt right that after years of loving the man, you two were finally making things official in the legal sense. 

As you peered at your shyly smiling fiancé, you couldn’t help but break out into a grin yourself. You underestimated just how exciting it would be for you to be starting a new chapter of your relationship. 

[stargazedwinchester]

ִ ࣪𖤐◞ ꙳ ๋࣭ ⭑ `seen, sam winchester ༘♡

summary: you're charlie's sister, and whilst your visits to the bunker are becoming more frequent, you're oblivious that someone has a little crush. word count: 902 pairing: sam winchester x fem!reader thank you for requesting @sweetiecelin <3 I hope you enjoy!! part 1

⛧°. ⋆༺☾𖤓༻⋆. °⛧

There’s been a shift in the atmosphere when you visit the bunker now.

Dean has been more attentive — Sam more so. It feels strange coming from men that usually live in their own little world.

Charlie hasn’t said a word of it. Whether she’s noticed, too, or she’s completely oblivious.

But Sam? Sweet, sweet Sam. He’s trying his hardest to accommodate to you every single time you visit.

Upon entering, Charlie races down the stairs, tossing her duffel on the floor, greeting the brothers with huge bear hugs. You walk down comfortably, unaware of the hazel eyes staring at you dreamily. “Hey, Y/N. How’ve you been?” Dean greets, pulling you into a warm hug. His familiar scent has become a soothing one. Looking up at Sam, he flashes you an awkward smile. His dimples show lightly as he tucks his hair behind his ear. “I’m good. How’re you guys?” You reply to Dean, reaching your arms out to invite Sam for a hug. He hesitates for a mere second, but then wraps his brawny arms around you. You can practically hear his heart skip a beat.

Pulling away, you can see his cheeks are flushed primrose, and luckily, Dean isn’t facing him to make fun of him.

You’ve been talking with Sam for a few weeks, basically from the first day he brought up the underlying issues. Texting back and forth, an undeniable crush.

Dean glances over at Sam, who’s been gawking at you since you pulled away. He furrows his brows, catching Sam’s eye. He shoots him a nervous glare, and Dean nods at your question. “We’ve been good, haven’t we, Sammy?” He pats his brother on the back. “Y-yeah.” He presses his lips together tightly.

Yourself and Charlie are staying at the bunker for a couple of nights. A case has hit the news a couple towns over, so the brothers decided that everyone—including you—gets involved. The more the merrier, right?

⛧°. ⋆༺☾𖤓༻⋆. °⛧

It’s later on, some time after 11PM. You’re all slouched on the couch, eyes glued to the TV. Dean has a beer in hand, his arm hanging over the arm rest. Charlie is sitting next to him, and yourself and Sam have your own sofa. A blanket drapes over you, covering yours and Sam’s lower half. A game show is playing; a hundred thousand dollar question has flashed up onto the screen.

“It’s A.”

“You haven’t even read the question!” Charlie shoves Dean playfully. He tuts. “I don’t need to read it when I know the answer already.”

The presenter finishes the question, and the timer for thirty seconds begins to countdown. Dean and Charlie bicker among themselves, Sam deep in thought about the question whilst you’re glancing up at him, admiring him.

His brows furrow and lips frown a little, his full, undivided attention on the screen before him.

Sam’s clearly put some sort of effort into his look today. He smells as if he’s just showered, fresh laundry and a little bit of cologne. You can’t help but lean into him, his scent makes you feel so comfortable and at home.

“It’s B.” Sam blurts, a few seconds before the timer runs out.

Dean and Charlie remain quiet in the last couple of seconds before the timer runs out. The silence between everyone is humourous, Dean concentrating on the screen.

B is correct.

Dean huffs, wafting his hand in the air, taking a swig of his beer. “You cheated.” He darts at Sam, making him chuckle. “Well, maybe if you read the question right, you’d see that-”

“Or, maybe, you let other people win for once.” Dean interrupts, causing a huge squabble between the brothers. Charlie is baffled by how quickly they can get into a fight over a fucking TV show, but is cackling nonetheless.

There’s no wonder why she loves them so much, they’re like a family to her. It’s something you’ve not exactly grown up with, since you never really knew them. All you had was Charlie, and that was more than enough. But there was always a missing piece when it came to it, and that missing piece was right here.

You glance up at Sam, who’s still going back and forth with Dean. You can feel his body vibrate with laughter. A deep, hearty laugh escapes his mouth as he reaches for his temple. And for a moment, he looks happy. Content. He catches your eye, his gaze softening as you’re looking at him with hearts in your eyes. He hesitates for a mere second—before placing his arm around your shoulders, testing the waters. You lean in, resting your head on his chest. Dean notices, flashing the pair of you a knowing smirk.

“Just face it, Dean. Sam’s the smart one here. No offense, Y/N.” She points over at you. “None taken.” You say, chuckling at Dean’s reaction. Dean laughs once. “Ha! Alright, y’know what? This game’s rigged anyway. I’m gettin’ another beer.” He stands up, Charlie following behind him.

The clamor fades out as Sam glances down at you again, as if making sure you’re still comfortable against him. When your eyes meet, he flashes you a warm, gentle smile. One that’s just for you. His fingers tighten briefly on your shoulder. Neither of you say anything. You don’t need to.

And for the first time visited the bunker, you don’t feel like you’re just Charlie’s sister.

You feel seen.

[satellitespinner]

✼ mommy issues .. (two)

a/n: PLEASE READ CONTENT WARNINGS ! holy gyat i just ate good chilli and it made me wanna get pregnant ANYWAYS.. i was gonna add spice but i found out the girl i like had a crush on a dude so you get more angst:) enjoy

content warnings: ANGST readers child is described to have curly hair, reader is of spanish speaking descent. (or atleast speaks it.) we on some white people shit lowk… ellie is good with kids😍😍😍😍😍 reader works in a hospital! you kids lowk an ass.. ellie has another panic attack. ellie still sad. CANADA MENTIONED RAAAHHHHHHHH cat brought up!!!! we almost get a kith…. this bitch is not proofread

wc: 4.4k

taglist @flowersforvi @ellslvr @saturnsdrafts @3lli3l0v3r @williamssgirl @liasxeatt @adelaide013 @a-little-bit-of-everybody @elliessweetheart @pedropascalsbbg @ellies2missingfingers @nelzooo @r3starttt @jaeminpookie @onlinelesbo @tphmnv @p4ison1vy @pascals-doll @snowy-vee @diddiqueen @littlegingerperson5 @ellieslob @elliessluutt @macaroni676

a few days later ellie finds herself sitting in a booth at her work with her two colleagues. tonight was the first time she was going to babysit your son, and she was terrified

she found that in this moment was the first time her thoughts weren’t plagued of joel since he died.

“i swear! not even light years could dim such a woman.” ellie describes you as if you were a goddess. well, to her you were.

“can you shut the fuck up with that weird space shit and talk like a normal person?”

jesse scolds jokingly. he winces in pain as dina’s foot meets his shin under the table.

“whatever, dude. it’s true.” the girl sulks.

“hey! speaking of space nerd shit. how’s school going, el?” dina asks with a smile on her face.

little did she know the mere mention of school caused gut plummeting anxiety for ellie.

“uhh, it’s good. it’s- school, you know?.” ellie mutters, there isn’t much to say. besides the fact that she’s gonna fail if she doesn’t scrape together a thousand dollars for fucking textbooks.

sometimes ellie wondered if dina struggled with money. she works this shitty waitressing job for twenty bucks an hour, and she has a son. but then again, she didn’t have the burden of school on top of all her other responsibilities.

the table goes quiet after ellie’s response. she’s not one to open up about her personal life. she only told dina about joel dying a few weeks ago.

joel. joel.

ellies mind clouds over. like a switch that clicked, making her go from happy to sad in a matter of seconds. she was always like that.

“ellie?” she hears a feminine voice break her out of her trance. a sympathetic expression on dina’s face when ellie looks up at her.

“sorry. what did you say?” she throws in a fake smile to distract from the fact that she was on the brink of another panic attack.

the last time she had a panic attack at work she was so embarrassed she didn’t come in for a week.

“i asked if you needed a ride tonight. y’know cause of the baby sitting.” dina offers, again.

ellie thinks about arguing with the girl, but she decides against it. knowing she’ll just end up in dina’s passenger seat anyway.

“yeah that would be awesome. thanks.” ellie couldn’t help but feel even more guilty every time dina offered. she felt like she was taking advantage of her. even though she knew she wasn’t.

ellie huffs out of her cheeks before standing up from the booth. “time to get back to work.” she jokingly frowns. causing jesse to laugh.

“it was time to get back to work 10 minutes ago.” he corrects in a ‘told you so’ tone as they start walking back to their designated areas.

“fuck off.” she peers, stopping so dina can catch up to them. she sticks her tongue out at jesse when dina places a hand on her shoulder.

“what a gentlewoman, she’s gonna love you.” she whispers and shoots ellie a wink. leaving ellie flustered yet rolling her eyes.

6:45

you had to be at work in an hour and your son was not cooperating.

“felix!” you shriek, the child was running around with a cheeto you gave him 3 hours ago. you fight the urge to laugh at his un styled curls and grimey face, but your stern mom facade over rode.

“¡vuelve aquí niño sucio!”

(“come back here dirty boy”)

he continued to run wild like a chicken with no head. you start to get sick of his behavior and put your foot down.

“felix. now.”

he stops in his tracks at your stern tone. he sulks as he makes his way to you. you smile at his obedience.

you take his gross cheeto and toss it into the trash. he pouts at your action which causes you to scoff. “put that lip away, chiquito.” you tease him.

he lightens up fast. his sad attitude being replaced with a toothy smile. it was infectious. whenever he was happy, you were happy.

“there we go!” you laugh as you zip up his sweater. he scrambles away before you could wipe the dirt off of his face. you sigh.

you picked your battles with him.

you decided to shoot ellie a quick text, hoping to prepare her for your crazy kid.

ellie’s running around the house in hopes to baby-proof the place when she gets a text from you.

sexy neighbor: hey ellie! he’s almost ready, and please excuse the dirt on his face. i promise i’m not a bad mom lol.

she smiles and begins to type back.

ellie: all good haha, is there any specific allergies or things you need done tonight?

she shuts off her phone and continues to clean up, moving the whiskey on the counter into the high parts of her cupboard.

she runs to her room and changes into a pair of gray sweats and a clean hoodie.

sexy neighbor: nope no allergies! could you make him dinner? if it’s to big of an ask i can totally send something! just say the word.

ellie: oh absolutely. i already planned to make him dinner anyway.

sexy neighbor: oh wow thank you so much, you’re going to be a great babysitter i’m sure 😉

ellie’s cheeks heat up at the text. you were such a mom. she thought to herself. she was just going to like the message when another comes through.

sexy neighbor: he is insisting to bring his coloring supplies. i hope that’s okay..?

ellie: oh wow were going to get along well. that’s totally fine :)

sexy neighbor: thanks sweetheart

a few minutes ellie’s front door is being knocked on by a small hand. when she opens the door she’s met with a backpack clad felix and you. in scrubs.

“hi!” she exclaimed as soon as she opened the door, her words mostly directed at the young boy.

“hello!” your son replies quickly. “i brought toys for us to play with!” she tells her, like he’s known her forever.

“oh thank god.” she puts a hand over her heart as she crouches down to his level.

“toys r’ scarce around here..” she warns. felix looks at her confused, but you laugh.

ellie stands up and puts out her hand for the boy to take, which he does. you smile at the interaction before crouching down to him.

“te amo, cariño” you gently whispered into his ear as you give him a small peck.

you stand up quickly and pull ellie in for a quick hug as well.

“thank you, again.” you sighed into the hug as you expressed your gratitude. ellie smiled at you. she really wanted to kiss you right now.

“don’t sweat it, now get going mom. you’re gonna be late!” she jokes as she looks down at your son.

“you’re right. i should go.” you make your way to the car and get in. you roll down your window and blew kisses at your son, who was now in ellie’s arms. you shoot ellie a wink before taking off.

ellie puts your son down, keeping his hand interlocked with hers as she takes him inside.

“hey kid, does your mom speak spanish?”

—————————————————————-

you found yourself immediately trusting ellie when you first met her. her green eyes reminded you of your own sons.

you saw yourself in her quite a bit, you could tell she was hurting. when she opened up to you that night in your kitchen about her father you could tell.

she told you she had grown up without a mother and all you could think about was nurturing and comforting her like she deserved.

you also saw the way she looked at you.

ellie found great comfort in your sons presence. he distracted her from her usual routine, which wasn’t the healthiest..

currently, felix had ellie drawing each one of his toy cars.

“like this?” she asks, flipping the paper to show him her drawing of a red car.

“no!” he denies before showing his own. a paper full of scribbles with his name poorly printed at the top.

“ohhh.. i see.” she says before flipping the paper back to herself and scribbling atop her original drawing.

“like this?” she asks once again.

“yes!” he confirms. ellie laughs at his childish antics.

the boy had requested a grilled cheese sandwich for dinner around 8:30.

“yeah i could go for a grilled cheese right now.” ellie agrees as she pats his head.

ellie had mastered the art of cooking before she was 14. when joel started fostering her the first thing she asked him was if she could use the kitchen.

although she would do anything to do that for her career, in this economy there was no chance. so she settled on astrophysics. and boy was it expensive.

she just hoped that everything would work out and she could make joel proud.

your shift was fucking exhausting. first, some random psych patient spit in your face. then, you spilt coffee all over yourself not even halfway through the night.

you were ready to go home and see your baby.

you had texted ellie a few times throughout the night for updates and she replied with something positive every time.

ellie next door: yeah he’s fine don’t worry! hes coloring right now.

you: awh that’s my boy. i hope he’s not being to much.

ellie next door: nope not too much at all

ellie next door: *one attachment*

he says hi mama !

you: oh my god aweeeeeee you two are so cute.

you smiled and saved the image to your camera roll without hesitation. it was a picture of your son at ellie’s kitchen table, markers and paper littered her table.

the reflection of her on the black television caught her smiling widely as he waved at the camera.

you: did he eat anything yet?

ellie next door: yep! he requested a grilled cheese. he also had some snacks earlier.

you: perfectttt you’re a life saver!

ellie contemplates how she should respond to your message. she could start flirting or she could img fucking chill and be normal.

she chose the latter.

ellie next door: haha! it’s really no problem :)

ellie had put your son to bed in her bedroom rather than the couch. the kid had toddled in there before ellie could reach him.

she tried to chase him down but his curiosity made him fast and sneaky.

“get back here lil’ man!” she giggles as his tiny feet smack against the hardwood floors.

he giggles as he ran away from her, running into the first open door he sees, that being ellie’s room.

he was awestruck by the many comic book posters and the guitar in the corner of the room was where he was headed.

before ellie grabbed him, that is.

“i don’t think so.” she laughs as she picks him up with ease. gently tossing him onto the bed.

“you have a boys room. but you’re a girl.” the boy points out, not in a bad way. ellie could tell he was just stating what he saw.

“yeah thanks for telling me i didn’t know.”

by the time you arrived home the sun was about to come up, and you were fucking exhausted. you contemplated asking ellie to keep him the rest of the night, but you didn’t.

your kid, your responsibility. you reminded yourself. as you knocked on ellie’s door.

pajama clad ellie opens the door with a smile, welcoming you in immediately.

“hey ellie, how was it?” you ask with a yawn. she guides you over to her kitchen island. her house layout almost identical to yours.

ellie smiles and describes her night with your son in great detail. your heart melts at the way her face lights up during certain points of her story. she recalls how she chased him around after dinner and he insisted on sleeping in her room.

your reach into your purse and searched your wallet, you spoke as your hands fumbled in your bag.

“i really cannot thank you enough,” you begin, finally pulling out your wallet and pulling out a few twenties for ellie. she looks confused as you try to pass them to her, putting her hands out to decline.

“you already paid me, remember?” you nod - urging her to take the extra cash.

“i just wanted to give you a little extra.” you smile and ellie almost cries. she held it together though, she probably told you thank you about forty times before you laughed and told her it wasnt a problem.

ellie lead you to her bedroom to retrieve your son, who was dead asleep underneath her planet print bedsheets. ellies cheeks turned pink when you giggled and said; “nice sheets, el.”

you tried to gently wake your son but he wasn't having it. you grabbed his arm to pull him out of the bed. he groans and slides himself underneath the covers. you are fully on your knees at this point. “i swear, if you embarrass me.” you threaten in a whisper so ellie didn't hear, she still did.

ellie chuckled lowly. “he can sleep here, its pretty late anyways.” she smiled.

you slightly bit your lip. “are you sure?” it wasn't ellie that you didn't trust, it was your kid. ellie wasn't hearing it.

“positive.”

sleepovers at ellies became a recurring thing after that. your son was so excited everytime she babysat and it made your heart so full.

this time in particular your son was extra excited. ellie had promised him ice cream for not putting up a fight to leave the previous time.

usually she greeted you at the door with a smile and a hug. but this time she didn’t answer at all..

“mama where’s ellie?” your son asked. “i don’t know baby.” you reply with a raise of your eyebrow.

you saw her arrive home, you two even spoke briefly before she went in to unwind. she seemed dull today.

you knew something wasn’t right so you decided to go in. your son followed you close behind. you sat him on the couch and advised him not to move.

the house was dark. you slowly stepped down the hallway.

“ellie? honey?” you called out, to your surprise there was no reply. a shiver crept up your spine.

you walked until you were faced with her bedroom door. it was slightly open. so you knocked before you stepped inside.

“ellie?”

the door cracked open as you entered. you didn’t know what to expect but it definitely wasn’t that.

ellie was laying in her bed, fetal position. sobbing her brains out. you were surprised you didn’t hear her when you were walking down the hall.

she gasped for air as you rushed to her. you sit down and sit her up so her back is against the headboard.

“shh, you’re okay. i’m here.” those words, although comforting triggered even more tears to fall. she didn’t know what she was doing.

the girl screamed in your arms for what felt like forever and you just sat there and held her. you whispered sweet words into her ears and rubbed circles on her back.

eventually your son had run through the door. a little gasp leaving his lips at the sight of ellie.

“ellie are you okay!?” he practically screamed in her face. you took your free hand and tried to shove him out the door.

ellie’s loud cries turned into soft sniffles as he wouldn’t leave. your son practically jumped onto her to try and make her feel better. your heart drops but ellie just laughs and pulls him into a deep hug.

ellie looks to you as your son babbles absolute nonsense into her shoulder.

“i’m really sorr-“ she starts, but you instantly cut her off.

“absolutely none of that.” you say, in your mom voice. her eyes widen at your tone.

“can you stay with els while i make a quick phone call?” you ask your son. he stands up tall. “yes!” he nods as if he were superman. you and ellie both laugh.

ellie knew exactly what put her in that position. her entire day was fucked from the beginning.

she should've called out of work when she woke up from a dream nightmare about joel.

she couldn’t stop thinking about the dream while doing her morning routine, or skating to work. which ended with her on the ground and her board in half.

if that wasn’t enough, while she was on her shift her ex walks in.

“you’ve got to be kidding me.” she whisper-yells as she watches the black haired, tattoo ridden girl takes a seat. with a new girl.

there was no way in hell she was going to serve them. she couldn’t ask dina, her table kept sending back the food. ellie was ready to go over there and rip them a new one. she refrained.

jesse couldn’t, obviously. she wasn’t going to ask sam. she looked like she was also on the verge of tears. i guess everyone’s having a shitty day. she thought to herself as she walked over to cats table. except you.

“ellie! hey!” cat smiled, she wasn’t happy to see ellie, it was an evil smile. she was happy to terrorize ellie.

“i forgot you worked here!” she continues, earning an eye roll from ellie. sure you did, bitch.

ellie keeps it short and sweet. oh how badly she wanted to ask if this was her new girlfriend. but she didn’t.

“what can i get for you?” she asks, she didn’t even bother plastering a fake smile on her face.

cat and her whatever she is tell ellie there orders and she’s out of there. she doesn’t even give out her scripted response of.

“great choices! that’ll be right out for you!”

she just leaves.

when ellie returns with the two plates the pair look to be in deep conversation.

perfect ellie thought. she could just put down the food and get the fuck out of there-

“so how’s joel?!” cat asks, her lips pursed and her hands intertwined underneath her chin. ellie takes a deep breath. she should’ve docked cat in the face. she didn’t.

the fucking nerve that this bitch has.

ellie doesn’t reply. she turns around and speed walks back to the kitchen where she breaks down for the first time that day. dina ended up finding her and bringing her home early.

to top off her picture perfect fucking day. ellie gets home and finds a new email from her prof. she quickly skims through. as soon as she read the words “cost” and a four digit number, she was done.

her wobbly legs about to give out underneath her as she lays down on her bed. she takes a few deep breaths but it doesn’t help.

she didn’t even hear you come in. but soon enough you were rubbing her back and telling her that it was going to be okay.

she couldn’t help but cry more because the last person to comfort her like that was him.

eventually you calmed her down. you left for a few minutes and came back with a glass of water and a few pain killers.

“take these, your head must be killing you.” you sit down next to her and rub her back as she throws the pills back.

god. ellie felt like such a child.

“good girl.” you whisper as she takes a few more deep breaths. eventually calming completely. the comment didn’t pass hee though. her cheeks (among other things.) were suddenly hot and sticky from tears.

she turned to make eye contact with you, her eyes blood shot. you wondered how long she had been crying for.

the first words that left ellie’s mouth were simple. “did you still want that ice cream, lil man?” your son jumped up and down before grabbing her hand and pulling her off into the kitchen.

ellie had sat him down with a kind portion of chocolate ice cream before she walked up to you.

“hes more than welcome to sleep here tonight. if you don’t feel like picking him up.” she clarifies. her hands on her hips.

“oh ellie, i called out of work. we’re both staying.” ellie’s jaw drops. she instantly starts shaking her head in denial.

“no no you didn’t need to do that trust me, i’m really fine-” you pull her in for a hug to shut her up. you hold her tightly as she sighs into your shoulder.

“i’m sorry.” she whispers. you could only imagine how embarrassed she must’ve been.

“don’t be. you’re human.” you reassure her. you wanted to cry now too. you knew she was going through a bit of money trouble but how broken was this girl?

that night after your son went to bed you listened to ellie rant about her life for hours.

for the most part she held back tears but when she brought up joel you could tell it was hard.

you didn’t pry, or ask questions. you just listened. you listened to the good and the bad.

you two laughed when she told you about when she kissed her best friend riley, and then cried when she told you that riley had moved to canada and that they haven’t talked since.

you had told ellie about how you discovered you were a lesbian during your marriage.

you were bruh shocked to find your now ex-husband very cool with it.

she found out that you guys shared custody and he owned a house in a different part of the city. ellie was a bit envious of your seemingly normal life. you didn’t have to worry about money. atleast, not as much as she did.

you were nodding along as ellie told you about joel. joel had fostered ellie since she was twelve, he adopted her officially when she was sixteen.

she told you how he taught her the guitar, and let her get a tattoo before she turned eighteen.

ellie and joel’s relationship was rocky before he passed. ellie was going through that age where she needed a mother when she started acting out.

“i was always angry.” she confessed. “i would say the cruelest things to him and he would just,” she paused, looking for the right word. “he just took it.”

you frowned at this.

if you had known about any of this you would have never thrown your kid at her for half the week.

among the bad, you also learned a few interesting things about ellie.

she really liked to cook, and she was fucking good at it. you discovered that when she pulled out leftover pasta and served it to you like you were a member of the royal family.

eventually it was your turn to talk her ear off. however, there wasn’t much to tell, you thought.

“uhm- my favorite movie is tangled.” you laughed. ellie blew a raspberry.

“oh c’mon mama, you didn’t have like - a crazy childhood?” she asked. mama, huh?

you shrugged and spoke “not much to tell.” ellie rolls her eyes.

“alrighty then.” she ponders for a moment before speaking “you wanna watch a movie?” she asked, smiling like a fox. you felt your core tighten.

you accepted her offer and she reached out and helped you off her bar stool.

“what a gentle woman.”

“so i’ve been told.”

you and ellie didn’t settle on a movie. she sat you down and told you that you were watching tangled.

you put your hands up in defense. “if you insist.”

“i do insist.” she lays a soft pink blanket over the two of you as the movie begins.

“didn't picture you as much of a pink girl.” you state, covering your arms up with the blanket.

“m’ not, it’s just for you.” she says, her eyes only leaving the television to meet your own.

“just for me?” you ask, putting a hand over your chest in flattery.

“mhm” she replies with a wink and turns her focus back to the tv. it was your turn to feel flustered at her actions. she was quite the flirt apparently.

rapunzel was currently interrogating eugene when you turned to ellie.

“this is also his favorite movie.” ellie smiled at the fact. “is it really?” she laughed. not a condescending laugh, but more of a ‘that’s the cutest thing i’ve ever heard’ laugh.

“it is! he loves it so much, it’s adorable.” you tell her.

“you’re adorable” ellie accidentally admits. her face flushing when she’s noticed what she said.

she’s about to profusely apologize and possibly crawl in a hole and die when you giggle.

“i could say the same about you.” you whisper, shifting your body a little closer to her own. you were already close, but now your thighs were touching.

you tuck a piece of hair behind her ear, her eyes still on the screen. you burn holes in the side of her face. she doesn’t budge.

“ellie?” you whisper, you see her swallow before turning to look at you.

“y-yeah?” her pupils had dilated just a bit and you swore her freckles were more prominent. maybe you were a bit too close-

“you’re very pretty.” you tell her, your eyes darting from her eyes to her lips. then back to her eyes again.

ellie didn’t respond, instead she smirked and licked her lips. “yeah, you think so?” she asks, mostly rhetorically but you answer anyway. “i know so.”

ellie’s lips are dangerously close to your own when she slips her hand under your chin.

“i think you’re the prettiest.” she whispers. you almost didn’t hear her.

you're closing the gap between you two when you hear your sons sleepy voice come out of nowhere. you and ellie both quickly pull away from each other and she clears her throat.

“‘punzel!” he cheers, one of his pant legs riding up his leg, his hair all frizzled. you both light-heartedly laugh at the boys appearance.

“c’mere, baby.” you bring your arms out from underneath the blanket. open for him to crawl into. he obliged and crakes into your lap. you couldn’t even be mad at him for being up so late at this point.

ellie reached up and strokes his hair gently.

fucking cockblock

[tojipie]

Hello my love! I know you’ve been gone for a while but I wanted to stop by and ask if you have any realistic but unhinged toji headcannons? Hopefully this gets you into the spirit of writing again, I don’t mean to overstep. We miss you❤️.

hello sweet anon :( i’ve admittedly been struggling with my mental health a whole ton which is why i’ve been gone but this ask really did help me get back into the groove of writing just a bit <3 thank u for stopping by ! mwah

this is just me saying shit to say it pls don't take this srsly !

content: fluff, mentions of alc, smoking, suggestive talk but not smut, a little angst

was a victim of the xandemic in his late 20s so one of his pupils is a little bigger than the other

initially hated ambulances because of the absurd cost but grew to hate them even more because the attention makes him uncomfortable. oh you want to take his blood pressure? ew, don’t touch him. that’s weird. would rather patch himself up than sit under a gaggle of fluorescent lights for 6 hours in an ER waiting room.

shiu has been a co-signer on every apartment he’s ever rented because his credit score is in the single digits.

picked up vaping on accident after the corner store ran out of cigs when he needed them most. still prefers marlboros because he likes that searing feeling in the back of his throat. throws the cartons out his car window like a freak.

his drivers license is crumpled. like physically crumpled like paper. he has no idea how it happened but when he needs to use it at the liquor store he definitely gets stares.

will forever be devoted to his late wife. mentally at least. she’s the love of his life but in his mind sex with other women isn’t really cheating right? like he uses a condom sometimes so it’s fine probably? he's not gonna stay celibate for the rest of his life. the topic keeps him up at night.

has a scar from an appendectomy right above his v line that women go crazy for. he’s not entirely sure what they like about it but he’s been touched there so many times that it’s morphed into an erogenous zone.

slut for fast food. would rather get a vanilla shake and dip his fries in it till his stomach hurts than spend time at a sit-down restaurant. eats like shit but still maintains his physique, infuriatingly enough.

hates being in public more than you’d think. it’s a deeply uncomfortable feeling that stems from the risk that being discovered poses during jobs. he prefers to have groceries ordered, meals delivered, and shiu take his car down to the shop if needed. if hes out and about he’s either at the casino tables or the liquor store.

is down for whatever if the price is right. like truly. older women love what he has going on which works well in his favor because it puts a roof over his head. absolutely no shame once money is involved.

has tried to get help for his gambling addiction a few brief times. got close once and then decided to hit the blackjack tables to celebrate his progress. he jokes about how things ended up from time to time but deep down he knows it’s pretty serious.

shops at the goodwill bins mostly. made an effort to stop stealing as much because of how dirt cheap the thrift is but couldn't stick to it. likes to go down the jeans isle and look for change in the pockets. his biggest score was a 5 dollar bill that had been through the washer so many times it was practically blank.

there's a little voice in the back of his head telling him to have more kids and he's not opposed to listening.

[loversrocktvgirl2]

my mini multiverse of madness…

Grocery Shopping Headcanons (Tony, Steve, Peter)

word count: 1.1k

Tony

Literally never ever goes to the grocery store so this should be a fun time

Very confused because you walk in, grab a cart, and start pushing it into the produce section before he can even grasp on to what is happening, while everything in the place seems to come very naturally to you

You have to explain to him that you’re normally here twice a week

He seems to thing it’s the most fun trip ever though, and he’s curious about how everything is organized and— oooh, what is that?

Tony picks up a few apples and starts juggling them in the middle of the produce aisle, which scares the crap out of you, and you yell at him to put them down. 

He’s amused by your reaction, and to keep him out of trouble, you agree to let him push the cart. 

That worked out real well for you. 

Tony discovers the thing everybody did when they were kids— getting a kick start off with one foot and riding out the acceleration as he stands on the bottom metal bar on the shopping cart. 

It’s only a little difficult for him to stop and he nearly runs the cart into you twice.

So you take control of the cart back. 

He grabs all of his favorite cereals and throws them into the cart

He also gets extremely excited by the most random products in existence and tries his darndest to convince you to buy them.

“Honey, c’mon! It is literally color changing pudding. May I repeat, color changing pudding. How can we not get this? Honey, honey— it’s for scientific purposes then! Don’t worry, I’m gonna eat it. C’mon, let’s get it. No? Why not? It’s COLOR CHANGING PUDDING!” 

Then he gets distracted by Lilo and Stitch themed Danimals and insists that he’s gotta buy them for when Peter comes over. 

Since you first took him, now every time you say you’re heading out to the grocery store, Tony immediately jumps up to join you. And while he is a bit of a handful in the store, he helps you carry the groceries into the house, so you let him. 

Plus, he’s Tony. Your Tony. You can’t say no to that face. C’mon. 

Steve 

Steve is very reserved and money conscious. He is also completely and utterly flabbergasted at inflation. 

“Three dollars?? For eggs?? This was thirty-six cents in ‘38. Baby, it’s a scam. Where are the other eggs?”

When you explain to him that this is actually not a half-bad price and show him the four dollar ones, he nearly combusts.

He likes all of the deals, and when he finds out what a Vic card is at Harris Teeter, you can bet your life he wants one. 

He’s the kind of guy to still grab the coupon books and flip through it, and then use like five of them

One time, he found a good coupon for an ice cream that you didn’t really like, and you put your foot down when he suggested that you buy it instead of your favorite 

So he’s learned that there’s some things that you can’t really save on. 

You climb into the cart one time and have him push it

At first, it scares the crap out of him, he’s scared of losing control of the cart, ramming your head into something accidentally, and he’s also not the biggest fan that you want him to run while pushing the cart so that you can have some fun. 

But he loves you, so eventually he caves and the two of you bolt down the Hallmark cards aisle together

He won’t admit it, but he thinks it’s fun

Every time you go to the grocery store now, you climb into the cart and badger him into running down the aisle with you again

He puts up a bit of a fight, but both you and he know that he will inevitably run you down the aisle.

One time, he almost hit a lady, and it freaked him out so much that he said he was never doing that again.

Steve was also incredibly apologetic to the extent that you found it funny, and the woman forgave him. He was incredibly sincere. 

Steve normally goes with you to the grocery store if you’re going because he a, loves spending time with you, and b, wants to make sure you don’t buy unnecessary things. Of course, you can normally talk him into them anyway. 

Peter 

Peter, much unlike Tony, is no stranger to the grocery store. He’s been here many times. 

However, he hasn’t been to this one all that often and he very easily gets lost and confused when you send him away to grab something. 

You sent Peter to the chip aisle to get the chips. He was halfway down the main store aisle when he realized he had no idea where this was, so he went into four different aisles looking for it until he eventually found the section he was looking for. 

Unfortunately, you’d forgotten to tell him what kind of chips to get. He didn’t know your favorites, and also didn’t know what the Avengers wanted. 

So he called you in the middle of the chip aisle. 

“Hey, Y/N, so uh… what kind of chips do you want?”

“Potato chips,” you answered. 

“Okay, but like… what kind of potato chips?”

“I don’t know, just potato chips. They’re all gonna get eaten in two days anyway, just pick a brand you like.”

“But what if Mr. Stark doesn’t like it? Or Thor? Or Bruce? Or Nat? Or-”

“Peter, spin around in a circle with your eyes closed and grab a bag of chips.”

“Uh…okay.”

He took this seriously. He hung up on the phone call, covered his eyes and spun around in a circle with his hand out. 

He knocked over a BUNCH of stuff, but he did pick a bag of chips!

When he returned later after putting back all the things he’d toppled over, you were almost done shopping. 

“Why don’t you just… stick with me, huh?” you chuckled, amused.

Peter also liked trying to convince you to buy the store cakes. 

One time, when he went shopping by himself (yes that was a disaster), he bought five of them, and when he got home, he challenged Thor to eat all the cakes with him and rank them from worst to best. 

At the end of this, you had a tired boy with a stomachache and a god still shoveling in cake. 

So you take Peter with you to the store when he’s around and wants to come, but it’s certainly not unlike you to sneak out a bit to go by yourself when you need a break from the chaos. 

[phoenixyfriend]

How to Call Your Reps About Gaza

I make a lot of posts telling you to call your reps! Anyway, here's the overall shape of how to argue to them.

Disclaimer: I am not in politics. I do not have experience as a staffer. I am just someone who cares a lot about where things are going, and wants to help. Also, this is specific to the US, because that's where I'm based. Hopefully, people with expertise can add more suggestions on.

Find your elected officials.

My Ko-fi: this took me two days to write up, so uh. If you've got a few dollars, send them my way so I can keep doing this sort of thing, and maybe move out of my parents' house sooner.

General tips:

Be polite, or at least civil. Do not swear or shout at whoever answers the phone. This will quite possibly get your number blocked. Fifty civil calls over the course of several months will do more than one where you shout. You can be frosty, you can say you are disappointed, you can say you find the actions of your reps to be reprehensible or morally bankrupt, sure. But keep calm and aim criticism at the rep, not the staffer.

Keep it short. The staffers who answer call centers are busy. They usually start trying to hurry me off after about two minutes. I've yet to manage a call longer than four or five minutes. Pick one or two topics for the day, and focus on those. Cycle through them every time you call. Stick to just one from day to day if it's a large, ongoing issue like Gaza.

Plan for voicemail. I get voicemail more often than not. My House rep usually has a staffer free, but the Senators are almost always voicemail. This will give you a minute and a half max. Be ready to get your point squeezed into that.

Only call your representatives. The important, powerful word here is "constituent." You will be ignored or even counted against if you are from a different district or state. The first thing you start with is your name and address. A staffer will ask for the information they need. On voicemail, leave your full name, your city and state, and zip code before you go into your message. Do not lie, either. They look these things up in the system when you call. I'm not sure how--I think maybe they have access to a database of registered voters--but every time I call, they ask for my last name and address and at some point say, 'oh, yep, I've got you right here,' which indicates a database of some sort.

Research at least a little bit about their opinions. If they already agree with you, then it's much easier to leave a quick "I support you and want you to know that" to combat anyone who's arguing from the other side. If they don't, then you're best off finding out what specific issue they have so you can know the best kind of comment to leave.

Look up specific bills or arguments. I get daily emails from GovTrack about bills that are on this week's docket or have been voted on in the past day. IDK about anyone else, but being able to say that I disagree specifically with HR 815 or something makes me feel powerful, and possibly like I will be taken more seriously. Sometimes you can start with articles like this one, which include links to specific bills on the official congress website.

Email after if you can. Reportedly less effective, and takes longer, but you are more likely to get a written (canned) response, and it reinforces whatever you called about.

Basic structure of a call, at least as I've been doing it:

"Hi, my name is ____ ____, and I am a constituent from [city, state], [zip]. I am calling to express my opinion on [topic]. I am concerned about [short argument with a clear impact on the topic]. I ask that you support [measure or fellow congress member]/vote [yay/nay on specific legislature]. Thank you for your time, and I hope you keep my opinion in mind."

For this post, the topic can be stated as the war in Gaza, military funding for Israel, or unrest in the Middle East, depending on which you think your elected official will respond to best. That said, the structure should work for whatever your call is about.

Arguments to use against your elected official... or your on-the-fence cousin:

I'll be honest, some of these are not going to do much against your representative. They know the arguments, and have been going over them with each other for months. You just need to have one locked and loaded that they consider relevant instead of a nonstarter, in order to back up your opinion as 'founded' instead of 'nonsense, can be swayed with a good marketing campaign.'

I'll include explanations if I don't think something is self-evident (or needs more evidence to tell your cousin), but in most of them I'll provide some suggested verbiage that you can tweak as needed, and for a few of them, that's really enough.

THESE ARE FOR THE TOPIC OF CONCERN, ONLY. You still need to end each one with "I ask that the [official] votes to [action]" at the end. Give them something actionable (example from Feb. 13th). My go-tos right now:

Both chambers: Reinstate funding for UNRWA

Both chambers: Place mandatory restrictions on any aid to Israel, with contractual threats to cut funding if Netanyahu and his government continue to disregard civilian life

Senate: Put support behind Bernie Sanders and his motion to restrict funding to Israel until a humanitarian review of the IDF’s actions in Gaza has been completed (S.R. 504) (Tabled by the Senate on 1/16, but it is being brought back in as conditions continue to escalate)

House: Put support behind Rep. Rashida Tlaib’s petition for the US government to recognize the IDF’s actions in Gaza as ethnic cleansing and forced displacement, and put a stop to it.

House: Put support behind H.R. 786, introduced by Rep. Cori Bush, calling for an immediate deescalation and cease-fire in Israel and occupied Palestine.

What Not to Say

"There is no threat to Israel." I've talked about this elsewhere, but the short version is that this will be basically laughed out as you not knowing what you're talking about.

Anything generically antisemitic. (I mean, it might work on some of the white supremacists, but do you really want to encourage that thinking? No, so don't do it.)

Facts that you "heard somewhere" but cannot find a reliable source for. If it's being reported by the New York Times, NPR, or the BBC, it's probably trustworthy by government standards. If it's not a super common statistic, cite the journal you got it from by name. Remember, you aren't arguing to tumblr mutuals. You are arguing to your elected official or your 'I don't really pay attention' cousin. When it comes to this, big name news sources are better.

Unrealistic demands for complete isolationism, permanently abandoning Israel to its own devices, supporting Hamas, etc. Again, you will not be taken seriously. Pick an argument they might actually listen to, and use it to press them towards a possible solution. You want them to believe that if they adjust their position, they will be doing the will of most of their constituents, and thus more likely to get reelected.

The Ethics Argument

Third-party reporting has stated that that nearly 29,000 Gazans are dead since Oct. 7th, as of 2/18/24. The vast majority of those are civilians, and over half are children. Palestinians in Gaza are facing an acute hunger crisis threatening to become a full-blown famine.

The International Court of Justice has found that there is credible reason to believe that the state of Israel is committing a genocide against the Palestinians of Gaza.

This does not mean that every single Israeli is complicit. It does mean that the government, particularly Netanyahu and his associates, has been reprimanded by a large, diverse coalition of countries, and has consistently refused to listen to that court since.

This argument will possibly work on your cousin. Less likely to work on your elected official. They already know the numbers. I just wanted to get it out of the way first.

The Re-Election Argument: Michigan vs New York

Meanwhile, this is possibly the most effective. Again, this is not an argument of ethics. This is an argument of "how can I make my elected official do what I want." We do not use only the purest moral argument. We use what works.

What to say to your elected official: Michigan, as a swing state, was won by democrats on the power of the Arab-American vote in the 2020 election. We (either party) are at risk of losing Michigan due to the current Congressional approach to the Gaza conflict, as that demographic is now polling as likely to abstain from voting entirely. The risk of losing several congressional districts due to the Jewish vote is a real one, but the risk of losing the the executive branch is greater, especially after what we saw with Suozzi. Supporting Palestine might lose us parts of New York, but supporting Israel will lose us Michigan.

Explanation: Something that has been taking up a lot of time and space in the election coverage is the situation in Michigan, and more recently, there has been attention paid to the special election of New York's third district, AKA the "who gets to replace disgraced George Santos" competition.

Michigan is traditionally a swing state. While 2.1% doesn't sound like a lot, that is some 211k-278k people (depending on your source), and while not all of them can vote... Michigan was won by about 154k. Arab-Americans are not the only relevant demographic, but they sure are an important one, and they are vocally opposed to the situation. Approval has dropped from 59% to 17%. From that same article:

As Axios notes, Biden won Michigan in 2020 by 154,000 votes, but there are at least 278,000 Arab Americans in Michigan. Biden took Arizona, a state with an Arab American population of 60,000, by only 10,500 votes. In Georgia, Biden prevailed with a margin of 11,800 voters, in a state that has an Arab American population of 57,000.

Democrats cannot afford to lose these states. Pressure your congresspeople about that, especially if you live in one of those states. I assume most Arab-Americans in said states are already calling every day; the rest of you can join in.

Meanwhile, most Jews (considered the most pro-Israel demographic by strategists) in America are concentrated in a very small number of electoral districts. Of the twenty most-Jewish, ten are in New York, which is why I put it up in the section header.

One of those districts was won by a Republican in 2022: George Santos, New York's third congressional district. Following his scandals and ousting, the seat was up for a special election, and the two candidates were Tom Suozzi, a democrat who held the seat previously (he decided to run for governor, and lost), and Mazi Pilip, a Nassau county legislator who was of Ethiopian Jewish background and had been in the IDF. She ran on a campaign that leaned strongly pro-Israel and anti-immigration, and when Suozzi won, she interrupted his victory speech to accuse him of supporting a genocide against Israel due to his rather centrist, rather milquetoast stance on the conflict during his election campaign.

Now, Suozzi's win probably had more to do with Pilip being anti-choice than her pro-Israel arguments, but he still won.

Democrats can better risk possibly losing a few seats in NY than definitely losing three swing states.

"But I don't want Dems to win their districts after what they've been--" Nope. Listen to me. Surveys indicate that Republicans are on average more pro-Israel, because Trump and Netanyahu are buddy-buddy, and we do not have a viable third option.

Also, again, this is about convincing Dems to be better. "If you do not vote to put restrictions on funding to Israel, I will not vote for you in November" is a lot more powerful than "I will not vote for you either way, because of what you've been doing, but you should do what I say anyway."

The Re-Election Argument: Risk of Escalation

So, that thing I said about Trump and Netanyahu?

Yeah, so, while Biden is giving Israel military aid while cautioning them to slow down and be careful, Trump is... complicated, but suffice to say he's much closer to Netanyahu on a personal level than Biden is. Biden's relation with Netanyahu is reportedly pretty frosty, while Trump's is based on relations through the Kushners.

Just from wikipedia:

Netanyahu made his closeness to Donald Trump, a personal friend since the 1980s, central to his political appeal in Israel from 2016.[21] During Trump's presidency, the United States recognized Jerusalem as the capital of Israel, recognized Israeli sovereignty over the Golan Heights, and brokered the Abraham Accords, a series of normalization agreements between Israel and various Arab states.

Trump's been more all-over-the-place recently, badmouthing Netanyahu for being what Trump perceives as a loser, which complicates understanding what his approach is. It's kind of incoherent right now.

Given Trump's general history of being pro-Israel, though, and the attempts by House Republicans to push through a bill of unconditional funding for Israel. It failed, but notable is that the more recent bill passed in part because it was paired with aid for Ukraine and Taiwan (something Dems are much more invested in having happen).

What to say to your elected official: If Trump is reelected due to his current appearance of being more critical of Netanyahu, there is evidence from his presidency to indicate that he will support Israel much less critically if elected. While he claims to want to settle the Middle East, it seems incredibly likely that he will worsen the situation for Palestinians, and ramp up retaliatory strikes to groups like the Houthis in a manner that will impact non-military parties, igniting tensions that are already tenuous.

The Disrespect/Wild Card Argument

This particular argument is best used against the Very Patriotic Politicians who are more concerned with the US's image and Being The Alpha Nation than with other things. Basically, this might work on Republicans.

This isn't really something I believe in, as a matter of foreign policy, buuuut it might work on your rep, so. Consider it!

What to say to your elected official: With Israel's recent actions in ignoring Biden, blocking US-sent aid like those flour trucks that got stopped at the Rafah border because they'd be distributed by UNWA, and generally Disrespecting The USA and Being Unpredictable is not only making the US look bad for being unable to wrangle a smaller country, but also making it so we are less able to wrangle other countries in the future, because Israel cannot be predicted and might set someone off.

The Europe and Reputation Argument

What to say to your elected official: The United States is losing credibility as a world power known for its military and ability to manage international disputes on behalf of the UN, because it is seemingly unable to influence Israel, and losing credibility as an upstanding moral state that is not doing foreign coups and banana republics anymore, as it appears to be tacitly supporting Israel's ICJ-labelled genocide, which is a really bad look with the other Western Powers.

I'm not entirely sure who this might work on, but there's gotta be at least a few politicians who are really concerned about America's image, more than about actually doing the right thing. Figure out if your politician is one of them.

If necessary, you can bring up how Trump is threatening to pull US support for NATO if Russia attacks someone.

The Middle East Stability Argument: Iran-backed Militias

What to say to your elected official: I'm concerned that the continued support of Israel, and thus the funding of their actions in Gaza, will increase the instability of Iran-backed militias, as we have already seen with the Houthis and Hezbollah. Entire Muslim-majority nations are showing increased displeasure not only with Israel, but with the US by extension. We cannot afford another war in the Middle East when we haven't yet pulled all our troops from the last one, not with the recent and recurring economic recessions. Any situation would also very likely be complicated or inflamed by the growing tensions among Eritrea, Djibouti, and Ethiopia regarding Red Sea access as well.

Use this on the ones that claim to be pro-military or pro-veteran. See what they said about HR 815 before the foreign military funding amendment was added.

The Middle East Stability Argument: Egypt

What to say to your elected official: Egypt's government has been unstable since the Arab Spring, and even now the military government is incredibly unpopular. With that existing instability, the addition of economic strain from the reduced usage of the Suez canal, the international disputes occurring because they're the main throughway for aid into Gaza, and the threat of a sudden influx of nearly one and a half million Palestinian refugees should Israel continue to push south... Egypt is looking at a possible near-collapse as we've seen in nearby nations suffering similar instabilities.

Explanation: It took several years for Egypt to really start recovering from the revolts in 2013, and it has applied for four IMF loans in recent years. The current government is unpopular to such a degree that they are looking to build an entire new capital from scratch in the middle of the desert so that they're less open to the risk of civilian uprisings; one of the primary causes for civilian dissatisfaction is economic issues.

Due to Houthi attacks at the Bab al-Mandab Strait, traffic through the Suez canal is down massively, and since the canal "represents almost 5% of the GNP and 10% of GDP and is one of Egypt’s most important sources of hard currency." (src) Various sources are reporting that trade through the canal is down 40-50%, which is putting more strain on the already unstable economic and political situation.

Finally, Egypt's population is about 110 million, but the governorate that shares a border with Israel and Gaza, North Sinai, has a population of barely 500,000. A push of one and a half million starving, injured people will, very suddenly, nearly quadruple the population of the governorate, and require extreme aid response from Egypt's government to keep alive and prevent a larger crisis in North Sinai and neighboring governorates.

The Middle East Stability Argument: Normalized Relations

What to say to your elected official: I am concerned that Israel's continued attack on Gaza is jeopardizing any chance of normalized relations with the Arab states in the future. American has put a lot of work into trying to get these various countries to normalize with Israel, and our funding of the current attacks on Gaza are sabotaging all that effort.

This one can be combined with the Iran-Backed Militias argument: Israel, in pursuit of revenge against Hamas, is setting itself up to be in more danger long-term, rather than less.

The International Trade Argument

What to say to your elected official: I am concerned about how the war in Gaza is impacting international trade and shipping costs. With the Suez Canal down to half its usual capacity and the Panama Canal raising costs and dropping capacity in response to the water restrictions, along with rising fuel costs in Europe and Asia, global trade is incredibly strained. We are being relegated to the Cape of Good Hope, Cape Horn, and the Malacca strait for much of intercontinental trade, and the macroeconomic projections are looking very bad for America.

The Domestic Economics Argument

What to say to your elected official: Many of the plans for Israeli military funding cause damage to other parts of the budget. For instance, a recent plan put forward by the Republicans of the House suggested IRS cuts in order to move that money, a plan which would impact the US budget negatively in the long term; we need those 14 billion being spent domestically, not supporting an overreaction/possible genocide in Gaza.

Explanation: In general, pick something receiving budget cuts that your congressperson will care about. I care about IRS funding, and saw it mentioned as a target in an article, so that's what I've got in my suggested verbiage up there.

The fewer people that are working for the IRS, the more they focus on auditing poor people (simple, easy taxes) and the less they can effectively audit rich people (complicated, time-consuming taxes), which means rich people are more likely to get away with evading millions or even billions in taxation. So yeah, you want more funding in the IRS if you are poor. They are already auditing you. You want them to audit the big guys.

The Russia and China Argument

What to say to your elected official: I am worried that the current focus on funding Israel without restriction is causing us to lose sight of the international threat posed by Russia and China. Russia is actively invading Ukraine, which continues to put massive strain on the European economy with regards to oil prices, especially with the Suez situation, and China has been testing missiles near Taiwan, and thus testing US responsiveness to those threats, for months now. We cannot afford to support an internationally unpopular war if we want to remain ready for Russia and China.

This is less likely to work on Republicans, since Trump is friendly with Russia, but hey, give it a shot if they're one of the ones who aren't fully in his camp.

EDIT 2/22/24: I'm a bit unsure of this tactic, but I'm putting it out there with hopes that someone with more political experience can offer feedback:

"Congress, and the US government in general, has promised to sanction Russia for the alleged assassination of one man within a week of the suspicious death, after five months of refusing to enact even slight consequences on Israel for the deaths of nearly thirty thousand, half of which are children. This is ethically questionable at best, but for the interests of elected officials, it is a very bad look. The mismatch shows a massive bias by the American government in regards to Israel's ongoing mass murder, with over two million facing famine as a result of Israel's aid blocking, and America's reputation on the world stage, as well as individual politicians' reputations domestically with constituents, is plummeting."

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

Finally, my ko-fi again. I spent a long time on this and I'd like to move out of my parents' house sooner rather than later. If you appreciate my time and effort, please feel free to donate a couple bucks.

[swanimagines]

PRICE OF LOVE | JEFFERSON

Summary: Imagine being Jefferson's wife and working in a little tea shop in Storybrooke during the curse that Jefferson visits every day because he wants to see you.

There you were again. Smiling at customers, making small talk and looking as beautiful as ever. Jefferson swallowed, before forcing a small smile on his face and walked to the counter. You turned around to see him and your smile just grew wider.

"Hi Mr. Jefferson! Your usual?"

Jefferson nodded. "Yes please."

You turned around again to brew his tea, and just like yesterday, and the day before that, and that, and that, he felt a sting in his heart. You had been in love back in the Enchanted Forest, you were his wife, but now you didn't even remember him. The pain was unbearable. He wanted to say something, anything which could make you remember, but nothing came out of his mouth. Anything he would say would just push you away because you'd think he's gone bonkers. Mad as a hatter. So all he could do was stare into your beautiful eyes and think about how much he loved you, how trapped he was with all the memories of you, him and Grace, living happily in the Enchanted Forest. How you'd always come by his bed to serve him his morning tea and you'd always kiss him before he'd take the cup. Your smile made his day before he even got out of the bed, you had been so happy.

"Here's your tea," you snapped him out of his thoughts as you pushed a cup in front of him. "That makes-"

Jefferson nodded before you even finished, forcing a smile on his face again and handed you fifty dollars. "You don't have to say the price, I will always tip my favorite tea shop keeper who makes the best tea."

"You're always so kind, Mr. Jefferson," you said with another small smile and put the money into the counter. "I don't know what did I do to deserve such kindness."

He smiled at you a little wider. "You have done nothing in particular, really. Just being yourself."

You smiled at that, looking downwards, clearly flustered by his words. Then the bell rang as the door opened, and Jefferson glanced over his shoulder, seeing Regina and his smile immediately faltered. She came inside and stood beside him, smiling at you with feigned sweetness.

"I'd like some tea on the go," she said and you nodded.

"Of course, Madam Mayor. What kind of tea would you like?" you asked, gesturing towards the menu above you.

"A large chai latte," Regina told you without even looking at the menu. "And make sure it's extra hot."

"Of course," you said and made her drink, pushing it towards her. "That makes two fifty."

Regina dug her purse for a moment before giving you a few coins. Then she turned towards Jefferson. "You, with me."

Jefferson clenched his jaw, but complied, following Regina out. They walked for a little bit, before he scoffed.

"I didn't know you like chai latte, Mrs. Mayor. Pitch black tea fits more of your style."

"And I didn't know I gave you a permission to seduce her," Regina sighed. "She has a new life now, Jefferson. You have to stay out of it, or something bad might happen."

Jefferson didn't reply to that, knowing that arguing about it wouldn't change anything. He just kept quiet and followed Regina until he could turn towards his mansion. But despite Regina's warning, he knew that he'd be in your shop again tomorrow. He just had to see you, he had to see you smile, to know you're alright. He wanted to keep making you smile with his words - maybe you'd even fall in love with him again. 

He knew it all was wishful thinking, but he couldn't help but feel hopeful about it every time he saw you. Maybe it was stupid, but it kept him sane around this madness…

---

Requests are always open! FANDOM LIST | PROMPT LIST(S) | RULES (READ!!!)

[ladyelissarose]

I love your fics! Can i please have a Miguel O'hara x Fem Reader where she bumps into a abusive ex and she gets scared/uncomfortable. So Miguel being the protective and territorial person he is steps in and handles the situation (maybe even fights the guy), and Miguel gets all sappy and soft letting her know he loves her and will protect her always. Fluff plzUwU

‘Protector’

Miguel O’Hara x girlfriend reader

Warnings; 4k!! mentions of abusive ex, sad flashbacks that involve some violence. Like *Choking and screaming* Little bit of angst, panic attacks mentioned too. But I squeezed in more fluff than y’all can imagine! Please be careful with what you want to read. Enjoy

Summary; after not being in a relationship for over a few months, you start to try again with an adorable scientist, Miguel O’Hara. Overall he seems very sweet and kind at the start of your growing relationship, but you can’t help but worry he might be like you ex. Until one day he proves to be the total opposite.

Author’s note: Hiiii love!!! Thank you for this request!! I’m so happy I got one! So I hope this meets your expectations, let me know :) much love and hugs!!

Diing Diing!

The clanking bells alarmed you that a customer had just walked into the large 3-story library you work at in New York City. A smile went up your face as you waved and greeted a couple of college girls who passed by with smiles and their little coffees.

This library in particular was special to you, it had a great view of the magnificent city, many customers came by and 99% of the time found what they needed, it was a place of a new fresh start after leaving an abusive relationship, and better than all of those things aforementioned, it was the place where you found Miguel O’Hara, your new boyfriend.

Miguel was a scientist, he worked at Alchemax and came by often to the library to retrieve books he needed for his job. He was always a regular customer as your boss had mentioned, but he said he came by more often when you started working there everyday.

Which was true, you saw him very often, maybe 8 times in a span of 5 days, he walked in and out with a new scientific book or one about chemicals, and you’d be the one to check them out.

It wasn’t hard to miss him when he walked in, he had a broad form and looked very different from the rest- oh and he always wore that white coat that made his arms bulge out more than they should, and really shape his V back perfectly.

Every time his curly jet black hair was always combed back with his calloused fingers as he would approach the front desk and ask you how your day was, even if you had seen him earlier that morning.

Flashback-

“Hi! I-uh.. came to get these checked out... how’s your day been- like so far?”

You beamed a smile at his sorta shyness, which wasn’t normal for him. He wasn’t particularly hyper and such, but his speech was always confidently spoken. Nonetheless you took the 1000 paged book about Chemistry and scanned it while responding,

“It’s been a little busier, now that college started for the kiddos, they’ve been in and out of here like crazy. But overall good.”

His warm brown eyes hadn’t met yours as one of his hands were stuffed in his pockets and the other inched for the book in your hand, but he smiled and replied,

“Oh that’s nice, just don’t.. uh overwork yourself corazo- ma’am.”

You giggled while putting the book in its paper bag while suggesting,

“You can call me corazen- Is that how you say it?”

Miguel finally let his eyes look at you and you could see he held a slight uncertainty, but he did correct you kindly,

“It’s corazon.. i-it means ‘heart’.”

‘Awww... that’s so sweet... Damien would have never said that.’

Warmth filled your insides and you could’ve bet a million dollars that your cheeks were beet red, it wasn’t a doubt you found this mountain of a man absolutely adorable like a puppy, and extremely hot. You slid the book in a paper bag towards him carefully and added,

“Well thank you for correcting me-“

You then read his tag and went on,

“Dr.O’Hara... would you like anything else?”

For a second time his eyes locked on yours, and he took a deep breath before rapidly taking out his hand out from his pocket. You gasped lowly and flinched back at the action, your eyes wide. But Miguel caught your action and felt guilty for scaring you, and comforted you immediately with his words,

“Sorry! Umm.. ay coño.. just call me Miguel.. and.. would you like to go out at some time?”

You were now a couple feet away from the desk, but when you saw the little paper he had put out on top, you slowly came back.

A frown made a small line between his eyebrows, you too felt back for scaring away, but you couldn’t help but have that kind of reflex to certain gestures. You couldn’t meet his eyes after what you did, but his gentle voice gave you a slight confirmation that it was ok,

“Corazon?... it’s ok if you can’t-“

“I can! Yes.. yes... I’m sorry-“

“Please don’t be.. it was me that was weird then-“

“You’re not weird I swear... I was the one that acted dramatically-“

“You’re perfect.. I swear that you are.”

Honesty and adoration was read all over him, something you’ve never seen in another man but could detect. With a warm smile you made the move to agree with him, though you were hoping he was right.

“Ok...”

Miguel first smiled then wore a frown with a question,

“Ok.. as in the date or-“

You quickly quipped,

“Is it too much to ask for both?”

With a shake to his head Miguel tapped the table and took his bag,

“For you? Not at all corazon.. at 6 tomorrow.. because you clock out at 5 right?”

In surprise at how he knew when you got off of work had you smiling a bit brighter, as you couldn’t remember the last time someone remembered something so small about you.

“Yes! Ah.. thanks for noticing, and giving me time.”

With a wink and a last wave Miguel sweetly promised,

“You’re worth all my time.”

End of flashback-

You never thought that being 6 months into your new relationship would be leading after that first date with Miguel.

And you have never been happier than ever. He was the absolute most gentle person ever, he never lifted his voice and was calm in every situation. He was the total opposite of what you dragged yourself into with your last relationship... which was toxic and abusive.

Damien was the asshole’s name, and with him, degrading words were always shouted at you, new bruises would appear around your wrists or neck every time he got angry, your lipstick was never smeared from being kissed and loved... instead your mascara was always messed up and painted teary lines down your cheeks.

You’d flinch when a voice was raised higher than normal or you’d panic for a second at someone moving too fast towards you. As in the past Damien would scream at you endlessly and out of no where sprint towards you to lay his hands on you to hurt you. But now as you had run away from him and started a whole new life far away- as so you thought.

You worked hard to be more normal and confident, and read people and understand that some moved the same way but had different actions and intentions behind them.

Like when Miguel would reach suddenly to brush your hair behind your ear, you had to learn that he was caring for you, and not going to choke you. Or when he’d come from behind you to hug you, day by day you grew to accept how he was loving on you and not going to drag you away to hurt you.

So little things like that, you were trying to give a chance to think differently of, so you could heal. And to not say the least, but Miguel had seen the trauma you were in from when you first dated, he had seen and heard how you asked for reassurance on everything you did, and even apologized your heart out when you accidentally laughed a little louder at a funny moment, or when a drop of coffee landed on his shirt, face filled with dread and worry at what he’d say or do to you.

But ever sense that night, Miguel swore on his life that he’d never let you go, and that he’d protect you forever from whoever would want to cause you harm. And he also knew, that if he ever ran into your ex, it’d be the last time he ever did.

—————-

Diiiin Diiing!!

The library was already close to closing time, so when you heard the ding, you called out to let them know,

“Hi! Welcome to-“

In horror you dropped the books you were holding, letting them crash onto the floor and even allowing the hard cover book land on its corner onto your foot. The day you hoped would never come, finally came.

In all his wicked glory, stood your ex, Damien, at your counter. With an erratic heartbeat and shaky hands you moved down to the floor to pick up the books, feeling like the helpless little girl you were when he had you. Fear wasn’t enough to describe what had you losing your breath and movement, as venom came out of his mouth.

“Wow.. even after all this time your still a clumsy bitch huh? Pathetic.”

Words cut sharp like knives at your heart and you could feel how deep into your gut that tossed stone of words went. Instantly it was like if you went to robotic mode with him, like if he had control over you. His black eyes bore into your now glossy eyes as you fixed the books on the counter and replied with a stutter,

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to drop it- it was an accident-“

“An accident like how you dropped your coffee on my shoes or how you step on my brand new shoes at your cousins wedding? You’re an accident. A mistake- like how’d you even get the job?”

Shrugging slowly was all you could muster, words hanging in your throat. But a harsh slam of his hand hitting against the counter had you jump and responding verbally,

“I-I’m not sure.. my boss thinks I’m efficient and qu-quick.”

And in that moment you had a very quick slip up in your mind, making you scold yourself and remember Miguel’s words, which were honest and uplifting,

‘Don’t be weak!! Remember what Miguel said- Never let anyone tell you you’re not good enough at what you do. You’re perfect and strong, stand up for it.’

You then took a deep breath and said forwardly,

“I’m good enough for this. So just- just please leave me alone.”

A dry laugh met your ears along with more degrading words,

“You’ll never get it huh? No matter what you do without me you’ll never be good enough. I gave you power-“

He gave you the power of fear, fearing all the time, the power of tears, that you cried every night after a scandal he put up. So you worded confidently,

“No you didn’t. You were toxic and abusive. The only power you gave me was to fear you.. but that’s over. Now go-“

You tired really tried your best to stand strong, but it didn’t work out well and it opened old wounds when he dared to raise his voice and slam his hand on the counter again,

Bam!!

“TOXIC?! Wow! Look at you calling the kettle black little girl. You see, you were the toxic one for always disobeying me and saying ‘no’. You were toxic for not letting me love you like I wanted to- I TRIED OK? I did! That you didn’t like rough and all was your little immature and weakling problem, but that’s what happens when you don’t play nice with your daddy.”

Internally you bled as he slashed you open with every word and movement, making you feel less and less like the person you had become.

Miguel’s words fading in your mind as Damien added a new one and went on like a broken record. You didn’t realize you were holding your breath until you let it out as a gasp when he slammed his hand again and demanded your attention,

“HEY! Aren’t you listening?! Do I have to hit the side of your head so it clicks? Don’t you remember how well that method worked?!”

Diiiing Diiiing!!

Miguel had just walked in with your favorite dinner meal from the coffee shop near by, carrying his on the other hand so he could join you for his little break too.

Just as you had dropped your stuff in fear, so did he.. but he felt a deep concern instead. He witnessed a man half his size tower over the counter and lean towards you with an accusing finger, shoulders visibly moving in aggression.

But what choked his air was your face- oh god how he hated the look of fear on you, it was as if death was standing before you. Miguel immediately walked up and called out to you first, not wanting to scare the man and cause more to happen, as he didn’t know what was up with him.

“Amor? What’s going on?”

The man whipped his head towards Miguel and only smirked at him and said to him while still staring deeply,

“Sir you’ll have to come back later-“

Huffing in disbelief at this guy’s audacity, Miguel turned his attention back to you and saw tears coming down your eyes, making him ask right away,

“Amor, what did he do to you?”

Blocking you with his body Damien bit,

“Why are you assuming I did something wrong?”

At seeing your teary eyes and wet cheeks, Miguel instantly grew defensive and very angry at the man that stood in front of you being an asshole. Miguel knew by his tone that he had probably done something to you, and that only made him more furious... until it clicked for him, who he was.

‘That’s the bitch.. Damien. Mierda.. your so going to wish you never walked in here.’

With an authoritative voice Miguel called out to you,

“Go to the back, and don’t come out.”

He wouldn’t want you to see the ugly side of him that came out when he defended those he’d kill for. He wouldn’t want you to accidentally translate his harshness towards enemies as that he could probably hurt you too with those same hands. No, he o my wanted you to see and know that his hands would only show love and care to you.

So you taking the chance that you knew Miguel wouldn’t dare let Damien come after you, you ran to the back immediately and didn’t look back. Knowing you’d probably pass out from seeing more of the monster that hurt you so much.

———

Miguel back up front then cracked his knuckles and threatened,

“And you, step away from the counter-“

“Why should I? I haven’t done anything to her-“

“And you won’t, ever again. Now I suggest you go and leave her alone-“

“And what are you going to do if I don’t huh? You think I’m scared-“

“Que idiota... You will be. The only fighting you know is how to hit women... try hitting me. I dare you.”

Thinking Miguel wouldn’t try anything, as he was a much larger man, Damien stupidly went at him. But being Spider-Man in disguise had its perks to self defense and fighting skills. So reaching close enough to him, Miguel then side stepped and watched Damien fall forward, hence letting him catch his back collar and slam him to the ground.

Breath knocked out of his lungs at the single action had Damien laying on the ground trying to catch air, but Miguel refused it to him when he hovered over him and held onto his neck tightly with one hand, constricting the airway.

“Thought you liked choking? And pain?”

Damien’s face turned red and Miguel’s heart pinched at the thought of his love and life being in this painful position, because of this low life monster under him. It only made him growl and add to the fire and squeeze harder, not caring about how Damien silently cried for release,

“Hm? Hijo de puta.. vete al carajo... and never come back. If not I’ll make sure you never do.”

And with that Miguel slammed his back one last time to the ground, ignoring the small crack he heard, and then got up, lastly spitting out in a loud voice,

“Now get the hell out! I don’t want to see you around her ever again!!”

Like a cowered dog Damien scurried away, running out the door and going far off, not caring about the weird looks people gave him for how crazy and scared he looked.

Miguel didn’t give him a second thought before darting towards the back room to get you. When he approached the door he knew it’d be locked, so he knocked gently and called out,

“Amor? It’s me.. Miguel. Can you open up?”

Sniffles and hard gasps were heard on the other side, causing him to freak out a bit and call to you again,

“Baby it’s ok. Amor I’m here and it’s safe-“

“I-Is he gone??”

Miguel could hear your short breaths between words and he could feel it in his gut that you were hitting panic mode. So as soft as possible he tried to tell you,

“Yes amor.. he’s gone. I promise, open the door por favor.. I want to see you.”

Silence filled the room a bit. It he then heard the smallest-

click!

As always Miguel never degraded you but instead praised you, even for the smallest things, like unlocking the door.

“Gracias amor, good job baby.”

Slowly he opened it and his heart ripped apart at the sight of your cowered form in the corner of the closet, breath hitching and your small hands trying to wipe away the large tears that rained down on your stained cheeks. With his arms opened to you Miguel did his best to word out everything and let you know what he’d do beforehand,

“Ok amor, I’m going to come to walk to you... can I touch you-“

Your hand inched for him as you whimpered,

“I can- I can’t breathe. hel-p me.”

Hearing you hiccuping for air had Miguel grabbing your face gently, pulling you towards him slowly as he tried to talk you through it to calm you down,

“You’re ok amor. Respira.”

His hand laid on your heart as he led yours to lay on his, he wanted you to work on matching your breathing with is. His other hand held the back of your neck gently and leaned your forehead on his as he went on praising and comforting,

“Just like that amor, breathe. You’re doing so well-“

“I feel so sc-scared.. like if it’s all in my throat-“

“I know amor-“

“I didn’t know what to-to do-“

“It’s not your fault-“

You tried to push away and bury yourself in dark thoughts of untruth,

“But it is! I let him... how could you lo-love someone like me that folds- Mmph!!”

Miguel wouldn’t have it, he loved you too much to let you drown in hurtful thoughts, so to silence your head and words, he had pulled you in for a deep kiss.

Instantly it had helped you stopped thinking crap about yourself and doubt everything with Miguel, and it helped you calm your breathing as you felt him move his lips against yours softly yet firmly. Your hands wrapped around his neck and brought him back closer to you, not wanting to let go. Miguel then pulled away, but only enough to mumble coherently,

“I love you *kiss* and you’re safe *kiss* I won’t hurt you *kissssss* I got you amor *kiss kiss* I’m not going anywhere without you *kiss*.”

The kisses in between confirmations had calmed you down right away, feeling his hands embrace you and run over your arms and waist gently had got you to stop fidgeting as well. With a one last kiss to your head, Miguel slowly stood up, helping you stand as his arms wrapped around you, he then suggested to you,

“Let’s go home amor, c’mere. Tomorrow’s your day off anyways and we can get up late to and rest.”

You were about to walk out in hand with him, but Miguel had different plans as he was feeling still protective over you and wanted you close. He crouched down a bit and worded,

“Jump and wrap your legs around me-“

“Mig-“

“It’s ok amor, don’t worry about anything.. I got you.”

No more doubt rested in you at the thought of him carrying you, so you gladly accepted and jumped in his arms. You looked small in his arms, but you felt so safe and secure as one of his large arms held you up. He grabbed your bags of food and let you hold them as he helped you clock out and lock up.

Your head rested in his neck as your arms wrapped around him, when he had taken off his coat to drape over you. He didn’t mind to walk you home to your apartment that was two blocks away, as long as you were with him he was content.

Once home you both ate comfortably and soon were cuddling in bed, Miguel the whole time held you close and promised to keep you safe, letting you know that you’d never see your ex again, and when you asked how that would be possible, he stated,

“Just let me take care of it Amor... you’ll be ok. Now rest baby.. I’ll be here with you in the morning.. I texted my boss that I won’t be coming in. So sleep amor.”

You lifted your head off his chest and pecked his lips as you thanked him,

“Thank you... for everything. I don’t deserve you-“

Miguel held your cheek and insisted,

“You deserve all of me and more.. and I’ll remind you everyday until you believe it.”

He kissed away your tears and kissed you once more as you nodded,

“Ok... I love you.”

“I love you so much more. Te voy a amar... por siempre.”

And with that you had passed out in his arms, cuddled close to his chest, your heart beats synchronizing as one.

Miguel made sure you had passed out deeply, before sliding out of bed and kissing you back to sleep as he covered you completely and made sure you were ok, before leaving the place. He had a promise to keep, and he intended to do it as fast as possible.

—————-

“He’s yours.”

Officer Jefferson Davis looked at Miguel with a frown as he saw the beat up Damien in who he knew as Spider-Man 2099’s hands. Jefferson grabbed Damien and asked,

“Well what did this punching bag do?”

Damien cried pathetically as he tried to reach for Miguel,

“He’s crazy! I didn’t do anything! Aren’t you supposed to fight villains and not civilians?!?”

Miguel stood tall and interrupted him,

“You harassed the library lady today, and threatened to hurt her. Villains hurt people.. and you like to hurt women.. so that makes you a villain. And I’m not going to let that happen.”

Jefferson nodded his head in agreement and replied to Spider-Man,

“That’s good enough to lock him up for a while-“

He then pulled Damien towards an Officer as he added,

“-you look like the kind of loser that pulls those stunts- damn my wife would beat your ass. Get him in cuffs and to the station. He doesn’t deserve a hospital-“

“But I think he broke my arms!-“

Jefferson rolled his eyes and huffed,

“Good! Now you’ll have another reason why to not hit women!”

Once he was dragged away, he went to thank Spider-Man,

“I appreciate this. It’s hard to catch these guys sometimes, but I’m glad you keep an eye out for them and for the community.”

Shaking his hand Miguel responded,

“It’s not a problem.. just.. just keep in him there for the longest time you can.”

Jefferson understood without needing more, so he promised,

“I’ll make sure of that. Now I need to go make sure that happens-“

With a salute Miguel bid,

“You do that Sir. Have a goodnight.”

Saluting back Jefferson smiled,

“You too Spider-Man.”

Back at home, and in your arms, Miguel smiled to himself at seeing your peaceful self, knowing you wouldn’t be hurt by Damien ever again. Softly he placed a kiss on your cheek and whispered,

“He won’t hurt you again.. te amo.”

Now he held you close to him and soon fell asleep to the sound of your breathing and warmth against him. Both of you sleeping soundly in peace and security.

Spanish translations:

Corazon- heart

Te voy a amar por siempre- I’ll love you forever

Que idiota- what an idiot

Hijo de puta- son of a bitch

Vete al carajo- go to hell

Respira- breathe