#‘then I can do the piecing this weekend and quilt it by next week!’

[thesixthstar]

Hi everyone please be mildly disappointed in me for starting the fabric cutting on my quilted scarf gift project at 2:45 AM, but everyone be proud of me for realizing at 3:45 AM that it was an insane choice and that I should be satisfied with my progress and go the fuck to sleep instead of staying up til 6 am and making a fuckton of cutting mistakes.

[padfootdaredmetoo]

Hello! I ABSOLUTELY LOVE your recent Peaky Blinders fic where Tommy and Lizzie adopt a teenager. You have such an amazing talent for capturing these characters!! If you are taking requests (if not, just ignore this), I would love to read more fics with this character! You are AMAZING, and thank you for sharing your talent with us!!! :)

Dear Anon,

This is a bit ridiculous but I kinda love the drama. Hope it makes you laugh. The next chapter will be a dinner party with Alfie and have some more Tommy & Lizzie healing because I can't help it. Thank you for writing in with kind words! I'm so happy you enjoy my work and I hope you enjoy this story too!

Warnings: Suspected pregnancy, periods, high emotions - Peaky Blinders does contain themes not suitable for folks under 18. Please protect yourself and be cautious of the content you consume.

Tommy had grounded you for the rest of the week-long vacation, which was a blessing in more ways than one. Events were pilled up this weekend and you were happier than ever to have a reason to stay in. 

Did it have something to do with Noah sneaking in most nights to sit with you and talk? Perhaps. Did your stomach burn with guilt every time he left as your parents came home screaming? Most certainly. 

No matter how much you adored Noah, you knew there was a thick divide being placed between you and your parents. A choice was resting on your shoulders and it was more pain than you could sort out on your own. 

You sat there commiserating at the table buttering a piece of toast as Lizzie entered the room. She sat in the chair across from you and lit a cigarette. In all the time you’d been here you’d never seen her look so miserable. Like her mind was a haunted house, playing cruel jokes on her while the oblivious world passed her by. She was fighting something, and the pain radiated into your bones much like the October winds. 

She and Tommy had been fighting on and off all weekend since the incident at the fair. Noah had offered countless ways to fix it, but somehow you knew that none of them would scratch the surface. You didn't really understand what had made him so angry at you or Lizzie. 

Your stomach dropped at the thought of him being unable to forgive you. Suddenly you needed to be back in the safety of your room immediately. 

“I’m going back to bed.” You said weakly. You scurried out of the room before she could respond. You got under the covers of your bed and rolled on your side wishing the anxiety would wash off. Intrusive thoughts of the harsh reality you would face outside the comfort of the life Tommy had given you started to eat away at your mind. How would you make it out there on your own? 

You spent most of the morning like this, eventually, you had to move to the bathroom floor as you  lost the contents of the small breakfast you’d consumed. 

Why this was all hitting you like a train became evident around 10:30. You got your period and decided that’s where the overwhelming feelings were coming from. 

The issues were very real though. You got yourself cleaned up and changed into your PJs, you doubted your presence would be missed. You lit the fireplace in your bedroom and climbed under the heavy quilts. Rest seemed to be the only rational thing to do. 

_______________________________

“Why did you say it then? You always do this! You're going to drag us all right back down to Watery Lane. Is that what you want Thomas?” 

“It’s not like I have a fucking choice in the matter, eh?! You think I want this for our family?!” 

“You -” 

There was a knock at the door and they both straightened up assuming it was you. Esme poked her head in the door of the kitchen taking in the scene. Broken plate on the floor, Lizzie’s makeup a mess, and Thomas looked like he’d just come back from another war. 

“Sorry to interrupt. Just came by to check on her” 

“She’s upstairs -” Tommy started before Lizzie cut him off. 

“Can you bring her something to eat, she must be starving by now.” Whatever they were working through Esme hoped that it would end soon, this was the worst she’d ever seen Lizzie. 

“Poor Lamb. Must be heartache. Couldn't manage breakfast that past few mornings I was by-” Esme froze on the spot realizing that this was probably not the best time or place to play connect the dots. 

Sick in the morning, not eating, flushed face, puffy. Fuck. 

She grabbed some sandwiches and a plate before hurrying into the hallway. She called Polly over before going into your room. 

She took in the warm temperature and saw you curled in on your side. 

“I brought you a sandwich.” 

“Thank you.” You said quietly, with no trace of your usual sunny nature. 

“Now enough of this storm cloud. Tell your Aunty what's wrong.” She sat on the floor near your head and kicked off her boots to warm her feet. 

“Will you and John adopt me if I agree to babysit?” 

“Don’t think they’d let you go, but I’d do just about anything for a built-in babysitter.” She joked before realizing you were serious. “Love, why on earth would I need to adopt you.” 

“They keep fighting and I know it's all my fault - I don’t know what to do about everything - I-” 

Esme looked at you as you burst into tears, her worst fears seeming more likely. 

“Hey it won’t be so bad once the shock wears off, I’m sure he’d marry you. I had my first babe when I was only a few years older than you, it’s not so scary?” 

“Woah - no” You shook your head frantically. “That involves - and I haven't - just no to all of it.” 

“Oh.” Well, what could have her bent out of shape? Esme thought as she ran her hand through her hair. 

“I’m losing both of them - It’s my fault what happened at the fair. He’s so angry with me. But I don't even know what I did wrong. Lizzie looks - God - It’s all my fault.” 

“No, love. It’s not like that at all.” She started to explain the recent business troubles when Tommy opened the door looking whiter than a sheet. 

________________________________________________

He was so tired of arguing. The more she got worked up the more he realized he could never make her happy. Old rivals showing up was hardly a part of his plan. She looked so worn out, all by his doing of course. 

Then there’s Noah sneaking in every night they're gone. 

All of it was too much, and yet he was very aware that there was something else Lizzie wasn't telling him. 

Another knock on the door caused them to sober up. 

“Is she alright?!” Polly said taking in the state of the two of them, looking worse for wear. Panic welled up inside her at the state you must be in.  

“What do you mean?” Lizzie asked. 

“Esme called saying she might be with child- where is she?! Polly stated urgently wanted to get to you immediately. 

He felt his blood pressure drop, and his limbs went cold despite moving faster than ever to find you. He heard Lizzie burst into tears and Polly shouting, neither of them came even close to priority. 

Opening your bedroom door you were balled up on your side and Esme was comforting you. 

“Out.” He said as calmly as possible. “Now.” Thankfully Esme didn’t argue, stepping past him out into the hallway. He shut the door and pushed down every bit of anger inside him.

“Dad, please! Don’t throw me out I’m sorry for what happened at the fair. I - I’m sorry.” You were crying too hard to speak as his arms came around you tightly. He didn't know what to do, he was overcome with the emotion that he’d failed as a parent as you looked terrified of him. 

After a few moments, you calmed down enough to speak. 

“You and Mum are always fighting now. I know it's because of me. Esme said she’ll take me if it's too upsetting for you.” 

“You’ve never upset me.” He said absently, trying to understand everything. 

“Well, then just tell me what I’ve done wrong so I can fucking fix it.” You snapped angrily. He was tempted to put you in your place, but then he watched your face twist into regret. 

“Sorry I’m on my period” you let out a frustrated sigh. “the two of you don't make any sense to me. I just need to know why your mad so I can fix it.” you started to cry again and he started laughing. 

“You think this is funny?!” You growled, but the relief he felt from your words was untouchable. 

“Sorry, love.” But he kept laughing again, pulling you close. He made the careful decision to shield you from his side of the situation. “Business is bad right now. Like how it used to be, Your mother’s mad, my hands are tied.” He sighed, relaxing in the warm space. “Her and I have our own problems to revisit right now.”

“So none of this has to do with me.” 

“No. However, if I catch that boy climbing in through that window again I’ll kill him.” He felt the fear run through your body, and he remembered how scared he’d made you. “If Noah wants to come over he can use the front door.” 

“Really!?” 

“To stay in the living room, or the sitting room, or the kitchen.” 

“What about the library?” 

“Only if I’m there.” He said sternly thinking of all the dark corners. 

“Can Alfie come?” You pushed. 

“No.” He said with more emotion than he intended. 

“Please, just for dinner?” 

“Fine. One dinner. Once things get sorted out yeah?”

“Can I help? I could try and -”’ 

“No. I need you to just stay a kid as long as possible, alright?” He looked at you for a long moment before you understood what he was saying. 

“That won’t be difficult.” You nodded. He prayed that you were right. 

“Now your mother’s probably needing a hug right about now.” He gave you one last squeeze and then you grabbed your house coat before following him downstairs. 

Lizzie was an absolute mess. Esme took Polly out of the study and you sat next to her giving her a hug. She held onto you tighter than ever.

“Hey, dad said he’ll figure everything out.” You comforted. “I’m sure Alfie and Noah would help too.” 

“He really loves you, ya know?” She sobered up a bit and you decided that must be the problem. “All I ever hear about is “Be more like your mother.” Never Grace, or Polly. Always you. I thought you were both mad about the fair, I didn't realize so much other stuff was going on.” 

“I’m pregnant.” She said in a hazy tone. 

“Whoah.” you were at a loss of words. Your initial reaction was to cry in joy before you realized this was the final layer of fog clouding the arguments between her and Tommy. She wasn't worried about business, or Noah, she was worried about what happened to Ruby. 

“Yeah.” She said solemnly. “I don't know if I -” 

“You can. Don’t even think for a second you can’t. I’ll be here to help, we all will be. It won’t be like last time.” She gave you a nod. “You should tell dad.” 

She nodded at you again. You kissed her cheek before getting up and leaving the room. You ran to the kitchen and pulled him into the hallway. 

“She’s pregnant. She is scared about business because she wants to know if things will be stable. She’s afraid of what happened last time.” You explained to him. “She’s also a mess of chemicals and hormones so just, she’s a bit, ya know.”  

He just stood there looking at you. “Just go easy on her, act surprised, don't tell her I told you.” 

“She said all that?” 

“Well no, but I can tell.” 

He let out a long sigh. “Go sit with Polly.” 

_______________________________________________

This time he didn’t wait for her to speak, he just sat close to her grabbing her hand.

“I’m pregnant.” She whispered. “Not her.” 

“I thought I was going to die.” he said honestly, enjoying the way her mouth turned up. “The whole time she thought I was angry about Noah. When Polly said that she was pregnant I swear my whole life flashed before me.” 

“Is that so? And what about now.” 

“Well, I’ll sort this thing out with the Italians over the next couple of weeks. Nothing will change around here, business is still 100% clean. Just have to clean up this mess before it festers. But I know she’ll be all over you to help. Might take her away from all that time spent pining. All in all, I just want you to know that I’m happy. Everything else will fall into place. No need to worry about anything, I’ll handle it.” He said quickly. 

“She tell you to say all that in the hallway?” His first instinct was to be defensive but the flicker of amusement in her eyes was enough for him to swallow his pride.

“It’s true so does it matter?” He said hoping she knew deep down that he would always look after her. 

“No. S’long as it’s true.” She kissed him and he felt more at peace than he had in weeks. Leaning into her embrace he forced himself to settle down. “I’m scared Thomas.” The look on her face broke him. 

“I’ll always keep you safe. I fucked up in the past. Please trust that I’ll do right by you this time.” 

She responded by kissing him again, this time it was even harder to push her off. 

“Got people in the other room, love.” He said holding her tightly. “We should go make sure she’s alright. Been through a lot today.” He ran his hand over her stomach. 

“All of us have been through a lot today.” She agreed. He was amazed at how she seemed to carry all that stress and still look so beautiful. 

They entered the kitchen and relaxed. Hearing you laugh made his heart swell, and Lizzie was finally engaging with the world again. His girls were happy, so he could be happy. 

The phone rang interrupting one of her stories and he groaned as she flew out of the kitchen to grab it. 

“That bloody boy.” He scolded as everyone laughed. 

_____________________________________

Coming up next: Alfie might need to help with the Italians, and Tommy did agree to a dinner party that may be even more drama-filled than this. 

This might be the most dramatic thing I’ve written, felt a bit more like a bad sitcom, but hopefully, it makes you laugh!

[creations-by-chaosfay]

I have a stack of placemats to finish binding, and thankfully it's just the handsewing part. Those will be in the shop this weekend, along with the matching coasters. Tomorrow I'll start and finish the mug rug commission, start (and possibly finish) the crow mini quilt top, and attend my first quilter guild meeting. That last one has me especially excited!!!

Next week, I'll start and finish a four piece coaster set, and finally start handquilting Star Story. That quilt will be basted this weekend. After basting, I'm completely wiped out. It's why I prefer doing that on Mondays. Three days off beforehand means more energy left afterwards. I need to clear and wash the floor, iron the backing and tape it down, add the batting, crawl over it to smooth put the wrinkles, and trim that down so I can see where the backing is. Then I need to iron the quilt top and lay it over the batting, crawl all over it to smooth the wrinkles, then pin the three layers together. That last bit takes the longest. Once I have it all pinned, I trim everything again, so I have a four to five inch overhang, meaning the top is centered with four to five inches of batting and backing visible on all four edges. After the trimming, I remove the tape, fold up and store the excess material, and draw out the design for the handquilting in the area I'll have the center area (moon and stars). The quilt is then carried to my cutting table and placed a quilting frame, and I can finally start handquilting.

All that takes about six hours. Keep in mind, I'm unable to weight on my left wrist. This results in much awkwardness and the reason why, when basting, my husband doesn't come into or through the dining room. I'm extremely sore the next day, but still able to work if I take frequent breaks for stretching.

I'm guess-stimating about 60 hours of handquilting. Using the crescent moon and start templates will speed things up significantly. Husband made a suggestion I find intriguing: use the same quilting frame (a ring) I used for Halloween Dream, and have a little less overlap between the rings, then place the stars at random intervals. I gotta say, I do like the idea.

Aside from handquilting, I also have the giveaway prize and a housewarming gift to work on. That's 10 pieces total: two table runners, two coasters, six placemats. That will take one week for the smaller set, possibly two for the larger.

Mornings will consist of sewing, afternoons handquilting, and no more than four hours each. 6-10AM sewing, noon-4PM handquilting. The two hour gap is a break. Plus, four day work week.

I think that's the entire list? Summer will be filled with handquilting and stocking the shop with mostly low budget inventory. I hope to add at least six listings, and one of them a lap quilt top. Personal items I intend to make: devotional piece for the space behind the altar in my sewing room, Steelers quilt for Bubby, bookcase quilt to serve as the headboard our bedroom.

Commissions close June 1st and will reopen in September with a price increase and the addition of a king size quilt on the list. I 100% do not expect anyone to commission for something that expensive.

Ultimately, my plan is to reach my ko-fi goal. Sales and commissions will make necessary to do so. I turn 41 in June, and we'll ne celebrating out 18th wedding anniversary as well. If I reach my goal by the end of June, that will be an outstanding gift. It will also mean two giveaway prize winners, and each will receive a twin size quilt (unless they want something smaller).

Now I must sleep. Things are gonna be busy tomorrow.

[echo-hiraeth]

Chapter 11: La Familia

Part of the “Ilicit Limerence” series

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader

Summary: With Thanksgiving right around the corner, Javier decides it’s as good a time as any to introduce his girlfriend to the family.

Warnings: swearing, angst, explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, nudity

Masterlist

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A/n: So my internet was out for nearly a week (yayyy!), but I’m alive and well. I’m terribly sorry for the delay in content, but I hope this can somewhat make up for it <3

There truly was nothing like waking up in his arms, the loving, loose hold making you feel right at home. As of late Javier had found it within himself to start touching your belly a bit more, starting to form somewhat of a connection with the bump there. The other night, while you were stood under the shower head, he’d just sat there, watching in awe as your dragged the washcloth across your body. There was something ethereal about you, the glow on your face, the shine in your hair, not to mention the astoundingly gorgeous smile you sported all day.

You were really happy. Everything was finally falling into pieces.

There was only one more piece missing: Chucho. Javier had phoned his dad the other night, fully aware that Thanksgiving was only a week away and that he’d be receiving an invitation sooner or later. It had been a long phone call, that had lasted for the total duration of three whole cigarettes. He looked into the living room from where he stood on the balcony, taking in the way you were dozing off on the couch, making his own lips curl up.

Javier’s father had been nothing short of ecstatic when he heard his boy would be coming over for Thanksgiving and that Escobar had been put behind some kind of bars. The tough DEA agent wasn’t one to admit to these kinds of things, but he really just wanted you to meet his dad, it meant a lot to him. His father had been sad to see his ex-fiancée, Lorraine go, but when he heard the little crack in his son’s voice at the mention of your name, he knew exactly what was going on.

He hadn’t meant to blab as much as he did, but Javier had a difficult time keeping things from his pop, especially the good ones. He could’ve punched himself when he let slip that you were in fact expecting a baby. There was a low chuckle at the end of the line followed up by a choked sob, Chucho only ever wanted for his boy to be happy, and by the sound of it, you’d managed to do just that. A grandchild was a welcome bonus, but the old man longed for a daughter, someone to take care of his boy.

Sighing, he extinguished the burning end of the cigarette, throwing it into an ashtray before heading back inside. He knew he had to tell you about the phone call, but seeing how you were still so wrecked and exhausted, he decided it could wait until tomorrow.

“Falling asleep at eight? Really?”, he mocked, swiping some stray hair out of your face.

You let out a loud yawn, stretching your arms above your head in the process. “Come lay with me.”

He couldn’t resist that raspy voice, eyes crinkling as you squinted against the light. Bending down, he pressed a short kiss to your forehead. “You sure you don’t want to head to bed?”

“I want to stay with you”, you smiled, lacing your fingers with his.

“You mind if we watch the match then?”, he asked, gesturing towards the tv.

You gently shook your head, slowly sitting up. “Let me just brush my teeth and get some water first.”

He stole a kiss as you slipped past him, grabbing your ass as well, in true Javier-fashion. You just playfully rolled your eyes at him, scoffing as you headed for the bathroom. The two of you had planned to stay in for the weekend to catch up on sleep and some much-needed alone time. A delivery pizza had been in order and as you stood in the bathroom, getting ready for bed, you couldn’t help but gasp as you slipped out of your dress. Okay, yeah wow, there was a bump now, very suddenly. Your toothbrush was perched between your teeth, brows furrowing as you looked at yourself from the side. You quickly rinsed your mouth, shrugging on a pair of shorts and one of Javier’s shirts.

“I put some water on the table for you, baby”, his voice sounded from the couch.

You walked up to the couch, standing in front of him with a wide grin. “Sooo, I’m gonna need some new clothes.”

“Yeah? Why’s – woah”, he exclaimed, eyes wide, “When did that happen?”

The smirk on his face was nothing short of adorable, his hands moving up to cup your stomach. “It’s the pizza I’m sure but wow.”

“It suits you”, he praised, looking up at you.

“Guess we should binge more often then”, you chuckled, moving to sit down next to him.

He laid down, motioning for you to curl up against him, which you gladly did. You nuzzled your nose into the crook of his neck, relishing in the warmth of it. “You look more beautiful every day, corazón.”

“Still not having sex with you tonight”, you sang.

A heartfelt laugh rumbled through his chest, a protective arm wrapping around you. “Are you saying I can’t compliment my girlfriend?”

You lifted your head, looking him in the eyes. “Depends.”

“On?”, he asked, bringing his lips closer to yours.

“The ulterior motive”, you whispered, brushing your lips against his.

He bumped his nose against yours, huffing out a breathy laugh. “We’re just watching the fight, are we not?”

“Exactly. Clever boy”, you murmured, smirking as you laid down on top of him again.

You were out before the first round had even ended, softly snoring atop of his chest. His cheek pressed against the top of your head, he watched the boxing match unfold. In between rounds he’d check up on you, adjusting himself so your back wasn’t curved or neck wasn’t craned. His hand ran up and down your spine, immediately reaching for the quilt when he noticed to slightest shiver.

 Eventually sleep grabbed a hold of Javier as well, no matter how hard he tried to fight it off, wanting to stay with you like this for as long as he could manage. His eyes started closing on their own, hands ceasing their entrancing movements. He jolted awake when he heard the roar of a crowd come from the television’s speakers and swiftly reached for the remote, turning it off. He held onto you, slowly rising to his feet and carrying you into the bedroom.

You were sound asleep still and seemingly nothing, no matter how jerky or abrupt his movements, could lull you out of that much-needed slumber. He briefly disappeared into the bathroom to get changed and in those short five minutes you’d already hogged the covers between your legs, a hand sprawled across his side of the bed. You were absolutely adorable. He heaved a content sigh, softly sitting down on his side of the bed, stroking your hair out of your face before laying down.

You rolled over, allowing for him to cuddle up to your back, resting a heavy hand on your swollen abdomen. He pressed a final kiss to your shoulder and closed his eyes, feeling at peace with you pressed up against him. The sound of your rhythmic breathing sang him right to sleep, forehead resting against the back of your head.

The next morning you were the first to wake up, yawning as you blinked a few times. The sun was already seeping through the cracks of your blinds, illuminating your lover’s face. His head was laid on your chest, his torso close to your side, one arm splayed across your ribcage and another tucked underneath your pillow. You carded a hand through his hair, earning an earnest groan from his puffy lips.

There was something so serene about the weekends, getting to slowly wake up in the comfort of his presence. You cherished those mornings, taking advantage of the early hours to cuddle up to him a little closer. Javier sighed in his sleep when you rested your other hand on his cheek, still softly scratching at his scalp.

“Buenas, mi amor”, you cooed, kissing his temple.

He let out somewhat of a grunt, shifting against you as his eyelids fluttered open. “What time’s it?”

You turned your head, craning to glance at the alarm clock. “Quarter to eleven.”

“Anything planned?”, he asked, pulling you back into him.

“Just groceries, but there’s no rush”, you replied, relaxing into his touch.

He suddenly propped himself up on his elbow, hovering above you. “Lazy morning sex?”

You grinned up at him, nodding your head: “Lazy morning sex.”

His mouth moved slowly against your own, a hand cupping the side of your face as his tongue slid across your bottom lip. You parted them for him, allowing for him to delicately lick into your mouth. One of your hands found the hem of his boxers, slowly sliding them down before taking his member in hand. He moaned into your mouth, gently biting down on your lip as you started languidly stroking him. He rolled onto his back again, allowing you to sit up some more as you worked your fingers around his shaft.

“How’s that feel, baby?”, you inquired, lips ghosting over his chest.

His hands move up to grab your breasts, squeezing and molding them. “Those fucking hands of yours.. so fucking perfect.”

You felt the dull ache and itch of your swollen breasts start to fade away, his touch like magic. “Jav-Javi.. ins-side”, you breathed, closing your eyes as your head tipped backwards.

He gently laid you down on the mattress, adjusting your legs so you were laid on your side, facing away from him. You smiled drunkenly as he moved to lay behind you, his hardened, leaking cock pressing into the back of your thighs.

“You ready for me, hermosa”, you gave a fervent nod, “words, baby, let me hear those pretty sounds.”

“God – yes, please Javi”, you whined, grinding your ass back on his crotch.

He parted your thighs, dragging his tip through your folds before pushing in. You both groaned in unison, your fingers capturing his, squeezing his hand as he pressed forward hitting you deeper and deeper. Your breathing was frantic with how sensitive you were feeling this very morning, eyes screwed shut as you adjusted to his girthy length.

“You okay to keep going?”, he checked, kissing along your neck.

You took a deep breath before replying: “Just go slow please..”

He took his time, his thrusts slow and calculated as he moved his hips back and forth. You’d turned your face, burying it in the soft pillow as you whimpered and moaned. His fingertips worked your pebbled nipples, praises tumbling from his mouth with every jerk of his pelvis.

When he felt you start to grind back against him, he quickened his pace, hitting deeper as he pulled your thigh up to rest on his. You cried out at the new angle, grabbing onto his wrist as you whimpered loudly. The intense reaction you gave only spurred him on, his lips feverish as he tilted your head back, capturing your lips perfectly. The circling of his tongue was in tandem with the pace of his thrusts, and quite frankly left your mind blank, body shaking. He wiggled his hand out of your grip to play with your clit, making you sob into his mouth. The familiar clenching let him know you were about to fall over the edge. His hips started faltering, kisses getting sloppier as he rushed towards his own orgasm, moving away from your mouth to let out a string of curses, cock twitching as he released within your warmth.

You were completely blissed out, legs trembling uncontrollably as you panted and whimpered. Javier was right there with you, desperately trying to catch his breath as he wiped the sweat off his forehead. “You alright, sweetheart?”, he puffed.

No answer. He rolled onto his side, noticing the goosebumps on your bare arms and legs. Muttering a swearword, he pulled the covers over the two of you again and helped you onto your back, softly stroking your cheek in an attempt to pull you back from whatever mental place you were in.

“Hey, I’m right here, you good?”, he asked, starting to get a little concerned.

You looked up at him, mouth slightly agape as your brows knitted together. “Huh?”

He let out a low chuckle, kissing the corner of your mouth. “Catch your breath, I’ll get us something to drink.”

Before you could really register what he was saying he’d left the room. You slowly came to again, the intensity of your orgasm leaving you entirely numb, with a blank mind and pleasantly aching body. He had a hard time keeping his pride contained. The two of you had always had what one would consider exquisite sex, but this, this was new, even for him. He came back with a chilled bottle of water and the familiar wash cloth. He laid down next to you again, propping himself up on one of his elbows to get a good look at you. The way your thighs trembled was nothing short of mesmerizing, eyes glued to them as he softly reached out to touch you there.

“No, don’t”, you whispered, closing your eyes.

“Are you hurting?”, he questioned, cracking the bottle open.

“Not hurting just.. sensitive – overstimulated.”

He bit his lip, trying to keep himself from making a stupid comment. He’d be telling Steve about this one at work, he just had to. “How about you take a bath? And then we take it easy today.”

“Will you join me? I know your back’s been hurting”, you babbled, rubbing your eyes lazily.

“We can get that sorted out later. Can you walk?”

His heart swelled with pride as you braced yourself on the nightstand, knees buckling somewhat. “I think I could use those arms of yours right about now.”

“Say no more”, he sighed, sweeping you right off your feet, seizing the opportunity to smash his lips against yours once again.

“Ever the mister Darcy”, you teased, gently kissing the spot behind his ear.

He set you down on the counter, putting the stopper in the drain before turning to faucet on. “I called my dad the other day..”

“Oh?”, you slipped your shirt off, “How is he?”

“Chucho’s fine but err – he asked me to join him back in Laredo this Thursday”, he stated, pouring some shower gel into the water.

“You should go, Noonan doesn’t make a big deal out of people taking leave for holidays”, you replied, working on some of the knots in your hair.

He scratched the back of his head, thinking up a way to address this. “Well, he wants you to join me, to meet the family.”

You didn’t mean for your reaction to be so obvious, knocking over the soap dispenser as your eyes widened. “Your dad – wants me, your girlfriend, to be there? I-I didn’t realise he knew I even existed.”

“Fuck – I knew this was a bad idea I just thought that-“

“No, no, no! I want to come, I just – I didn’t expect things to go this fast… is all.”

You could see the relief on his face, shoulders untensing as a new silence fell over the two of you. “I never want to make you feel like we’re rushing into things… but falling pregnant and basically moving in together kind of set a pace..”, he joked.

“Oh baby, and exactly whose fault is that?”, you retorted, draping your arms around his neck.

“Those trembling legs should serve as your reminder, querida”, he jested, stepping away from you. “Water warm enough?”

You carefully got off the counter, swirling a set of fingers in the tub to test the temperature. “Seems perfect to me.” As Javier laid out some towels, you lowered yourself into the tub, taking up his usual space.

“What are you doing?”, he asked, pointing at your bubble-covered self.

“Just get in and shut up”, you chuckled, spreading your legs to allow him some room.

There was some more muttered protesting before he finally got in, shoulders stiff and rigid as he kept some space between the two of you.

“Dios mios Javi..”, you exhaled, placing a hand on his shoulder, “Lean back, rest against me.”

He was hesitant, afraid to hurt you or the baby in any shape or way, but when you convinced him that nothing like that would likely happen, he finally gave in. Leaning back against your chest, he rested his head against your collarbone.

“Are you sure you’re comfortable like this?”, he worried yet again.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes before kissing the top of his head. “Will you stop fussing already? Let me take care of you today Javi. Let me show you how much I love you”, you purred, sliding your hands down his back.

He let out a pained grunt when you reached that one spot in his lower back, the one he’d been complaining about earlier on. “Easy, easy.. very tender.”

You circled your fingers on the area around it, being mindful not to be too overbearing or intense. With every new relaxed hum or huff, you massaged a bit closer to that cursed spot, hoping to alleviate some of the build-up and tension there. As you got there, he encouraged you to knead him somewhat harder, guiding you through the knots as he let out husky profanities, alternating between Spanish and English.

“Feels much looser already”, you whispered, pressing your knuckles into the muscle.

He hummed contently, stroking your calf under the water. “Fuck – that does feel good.”

You worked your way up his back, wanting to solve as many of those little problems as you could. By the time you got to his overworked shoulders, the water had started getting cold, but neither of you were planning on stopping anytime soon.

“So your dad”, you started, digging into the muscle at the back of his neck, “how exactly do I impress him?”

He let out a breathy laugh, squeezing your knee a bit. “You already have, hermosa.”

“Yeah, you’re going to have to fill me in on what you’ve told him. We need to get our story straight here”, you chuckled, pressing a kiss to his temple.

“He already knows everything he needs to know”, he stated curtly, leaning back a bit more.

The penny dropped. “Wait – did you tell your father I’m pregnant?”

“I mean, he was gonna find out sooner or later”, he reasoned, eyes widening with surprise when you shoved him off of you.

You untangled yourself from him, supporting yourself with the rim of the tub as you went to stand. “Javier, these are decisions you can’t make on your own.”

“I know. It just sort of slipped out..”, he rationalised, getting out as well, taking the towel you were handing him.

The annoyance was clear in the way you were looking at him. “I really don’t appreciate this.”

“It’s not that big of a deal-“

“Maybe it is to me”, you interrupted, walking out of the bathroom wrapped up in your towel.

He trailed behind you, dripping onto the bedroom and kitchen floor in doing so. “Don’t be upset, I had to tell him someday.”

“I know.. I just wish you would’ve talked about it with me first.. like couples do”, you confessed, voice a whole lot quieter now.

He hadn’t thought about it in that way, but could see why it annoyed you as much as it did. “I’m sorry, corazón.”

“It’s okay Javier, just – next time talk about this kind of thing. You’re not alone anymore, you have a family of your own to think about.”

He watched as you disappeared into the bedroom once again, dumbfounded by what you had just said. A family of his own. It sounded so very foreign to him, the idea of a wife and children, the whole tree, dog, house thing. But standing here in your shared apartment made him feel some kind of way. A wife, he’d been there before, but he didn’t follow through. Lorraine was an amazing woman, but Javier wasn’t happy with her, he was happy with the idea of his father being content, but she wasn’t it for him. She was very tender and fragile, yet very well- and outspoken. Lorraine knew how to stand her ground and would’ve been the perfect housewife, but that’s also all she would ever be. She would’ve been a safe option, but he knew by now that safe wasn’t always good. Javier craved the danger, the adventure, something more, someone who could challenge him to be better, someone who wouldn’t settle for the bare minimum. And that someone was you. Someone who could understand him and the things he’d done, someone to be there.

You reemerged fully dressed, grocery list in hand. He was still stood there, baffled and speechless, still trying to process what he was feeling and thinking. “I’m not mad, okay. Just a bit annoyed, so I’ll go get groceries and clothes myself and you can do your Javi-things.”

Part of him wanted to protest, remind you of the dangers that lurked beyond that door, but he knew you. You were a strong woman, femme fatale at that. “You’ll call if anything comes up?”

“I’ll call just to get on your nerves”, you chuckled, pressing a short peck to his lips as you grabbed your keys off the kitchen island.

 It was a lovely afternoon, the late-November sun nice and warm on your rosy cheeks as you ventured the market for fresh groceries and some stretchy-er clothes. The fact that you’d be meeting his father later that week continuously on your mind as you looked at all the racks of mid-season fashion.

Meanwhile Javier was back at his old apartment, boxing up the last of his stuff. It was something he’d promised to do last weekend, but just never got around to actually finishing. He knew those last couple of boxes would mean the end of an era and he knew fully well he’d never go back to it. Your apartment was considerably bigger than his, even having a whole second bedroom, which served as an impromptu office. So it had been an easy decision.

“Hey, need some help?”

Javier whipped his head around to look at Connie, who was carrying a bag of her own. “There’s not that much left to do, really.” He taped a third box shut, tearing the sticky material with his teeth. “How’s the kid?”

“Olivia’s okay, just going through some teething and whatnot. But uh- I wanted to give you this”, she hesitated, setting the paper bag down on the coffee table.

He jerked the top back, glancing inside. “Clothes?”

“Yeah, for the baby, Liv’s grown out of them and I know how expe-“

“Woah – woah, she’s barely three months along, don’t you think this is a bit much?”, he questioned, stepping back to fill the next box.

Connie fumbled with her fingers somewhat, surprised at his harsh tone. “Well, we talked about it last week and she said that she wanted to take a look for herself”, she clarified.

“Whatever, just – just put them in a box or something”, he sighed, wiping some sweat off his forehead.

She crossed her arms, closing the door with her foot. “This isn’t just about the clothes, is it?”

“What?”

She took a few steps towards him, gesturing for him to take a seat on the couch. “What’s gotten into you, Javi?”

“I just fucked up, but it’s not that big of a deal”, he stressed, reaching into his back pocket for the anxiety-easing smokes.

“Seems like it is to you”, she spoke, watching him light a cigarette and sucking it in between his lips. “What is all this really about, Javi?”

He watched the smoke swirl around in the open air as he exhaled, taking a second to gather his thoughts. “I-I actually really want to be with her. Not because of the baby or because of the convenience.. I-I really want to spend the rest of my life with her.”

“Well, that sounds great”, she smiled, noting the conflicted look in his eyes. “So why is it such a problem?”

“It’s fucking terrifying. The idea of having somebody so valuable and precious and the possibility of – of..” He didn’t finish his sentence, knowing fully well Connie would understand it better than anyone else.

She placed a hand on his knee, encouraging him to look up at her. “You can’t let fear rule your life like that Javier. She and that baby, they’re gifts, so enjoy them. Escobar is behind bars for now, use it to your advantage, go out for dinner together or take a darn late night stroll. This is the universe giving you a break. Get to know yourself again, work on that relationship. You’ve got a good thing going here, and you’d be an idiot to let it slip away so easily.”

 By the time he came back to the apartment, hauling two boxes along with him, you were already in the kitchen, bent over dinner. He kicked the boxes inside, slipping out of his jacket and shoes before walking over to were you were standing.

“That smells really nice, princesa”, he praised as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

“Hmm, I brought you some stuff, it’s over on the coffee table”, you said in between kisses. “Dinner should be done in an hour, just need to put it in the oven.”

He strolled over to the couch, remembering the boxes he brought in himself. “That reminds me, Connie gave me some of Olivia’s stuff for you to go through.”

You clasped your hands together, a wide grin spreading across your face as you made your way over to the boxes. “If you want to, we can go through it together”, you suggested, pulling the bag out of the cardboard box.

“We can do that, gonna have to learn what all of those buttons are for eventually”, he joked, rummaging through the bags you’d left for him. Inside were some new jeans, shirts and button-ups, things he needed but found too tedious of a task to do himself. He smiled as he watched you empty the paper bag, heart filled with love and adoration in that moment. “Gracias, mi corazón.”

“Just you wait, look at the bottom”, you smirked, taking a seat on the couch.

He fished something out of the bags, giving you a confused look. “Tiger.. balm?”

“It’s like VapoRub but for backpain”, you explained.

He gently shook his head, leaning down to press his lips to yours. “I fucking love you.”

The remainder of that hour was spent together on the couch. Javier was lazily sat back as you pulled piece after piece from the bag, cooing and fussing about how “cute” and “adorable” everything was, showing it all off to him with a million-dollar-smile glued to your face. He chuckled right along as you held the rompers against your bump, trying to visualise it all for him. To his surprise, he was actually enjoying himself. There was something about the higher pitch in your voice that made his heart flutter in his chest. It was the happiest and most excited he’d seen you in a while and what a welcome sight it was.

“Can you imagine getting an actual baby out of all this?”, you giggled, holding a tiny shirt out in front of you.

“I’m not drunk enough to have this conversation, querida”, he quipped, taking the article of clothing from you and pulling you on top of him. “I haven’t gotten back to my dad yet, so if you don’t want to go, I can just tell him.”

“Javi, I want to go”, you reassured him, cupping his face in both of your hands. “Just.. no more surprises, please.”

He agreed with you and genuinely didn’t think anything of it until he phoned his father again. Chucho was more than happy hearing the news and informed his dear son that his ex-fiancée and her respective husband would be attending as well. Fuck – he forgot about Lorraine for a second. He wondered if he should just cancel and avoid having the two women in his life face each other over a stupid holiday. But he ultimately decided against it, soothing himself in hoping and praying that both you and Lorraine would upkeep the maturity and calmness you both exuded. He’d told you about his runaway marriage and answered any all questions you’d had about it in the past. You were understanding of it and heard him out, much to his surprise, and didn’t react too strongly. Throughout the first half of the week he considered telling you before you got on the flight, but part of him wanted to tell you when you were already back in the states, so that you wouldn’t have too much time to get worried about it.

Wednesday night was spent packing and frantically double-checking everything. The two of you had the early flight and would be staying until that Sunday. You were a nervous wreck, not having done the whole “meet the parents” shebang in years. On top of that you were pregnant, which didn’t necessarily make it any easier for you. Javier was right there with you, though still tried to maintain a calm front to somewhat appease to your nerves.

“What’s Thanksgiving usually like? Some nice jeans and a top or like full-on pretty dress and hair and make-up”, you asked, hands flailing in your tenseness.

Javier ran a hand across his face, shrugging his shoulders at you: “Wear whatever you want, we don’t really care about that kind of thing.”

“Jaaaviii”, you whined, throwing your head back, “Can you at least pretend to care?”

It went on like that for a good while until ultimately Javier just packed your bag for you, more than fed-up with the everlasting debate. Both of you had a hard time falling asleep that night, the anxiety and suspense tangible. But eventually, in a tangle of limbs, the two of you were out, until a couple hours later the blaring alarm pulled you both back to reality. Breakfast among other formalities were skipped, a short shower all the luxury the two of you could afford, before heading to the airport.

Security and check-in were equally as stressful as the night before, Javier’s eyes practically burning as he watched the security guard pat you down. Stepping in when the officer started laying hands on your stomach. With a flash of the familiar DEA badge, everything was settled and soon the two of you were boarding the plane. Javier sat next to the window, still looking out for you as you got seated and comfortable.

“Need anything?”, he asked, a warm hand covering yours.

You smiled at him, pulling up the armrest to scoot a little closer to him. “I’m just nervous, not too big on flying”, you expressed, lifting your brows somewhat.

“I’m right here, okay, just tell me if you need anything”, he reminded you, pecking the top of your head. “Why don’t we try to get some more sleep?”

The flight was over before you knew it, Javier’s shoulder proving an excellent pillow. After gathering your bags the two of you rented out a car and started the drive down to Laredo. He tried his best to take your mind off of it as he told you about the town itself, even pointing out his high school to you. It was a worthy attempt, but as he pulled up to the ranch, those nerves came right back, seemingly more prominent than before.

He grabbed a hold of your hand as he led you around to the backdoor, pulling back the screen door before letting himself in.

“¡Papá, ya llegamos!”, he called out, setting down his bag on the kitchen floor. He kissed you very briefly, whispering something to you before turning his attention to the approaching footsteps. (Dad, we’re here!)

“Mi hijo, llegas temprano”, a lower baritone answered, a man older but akin to Javier walking into the kitchen. (My boy, you’re early.)

He embraced his son, clapping him on the back in the process, only meeting your eyes as he pulled back. The elderly man smiled at you, opening his arms as he took a few steps towards you. You hugged him right back, sharing a look with Javier as you rested your head on his shoulder.

“Ah, she’s very pretty”, Chucho grinned, slapping his son on the shoulder. “But too skinny! You need to feed her better.”

The three of you laughed at that, talking some more before Chucho ordered for his son to show you to the room upstairs. The first meeting went great, but being as nervous as you were, you could use a couple of minutes to compose yourself. You failed to notice the absolute relief washing over Javier as well, who was just as grateful as you were to get some alone time.

“I’d say that went pretty well”, he breathed out, rubbing his eyes. “How are you feeling?”

You wrapped your arms around his neck, resting your cheek against his sternum. “Your dad’s really lovely, cielo. So why are you such a prick?”, you teased.

He poked at your side, grabbing a hold of your chin to press his lips to yours. “Don’t make me do ungodly things to you in my childhood bedroom”, he tutted, moving his hands down to squeeze your ass.

“Javier Peña! Don’t you fucking dare”, you warned, baring your teeth as you smirked up at him.

He lifted one hand to playfully swat your butt, wiggling his eyebrows at you. “Nothing I haven’t done before.”

You wriggled free of his grasp, jokingly flipping him off before heading into the bathroom. After about another ten minutes or so the two of you headed back downstairs, having promised to help Chucho out with some of the side dishes. The table was set for five and you thought nothing of it, just expected more people to show.

Chucho and you proved a good duo, working together on some of the sides in the kitchen as Javier was preparing some drinks. There was some banter going on, laughs being shared and there was an overall good atmosphere. When the doorbell rang, and Javier disappeared from view, Chucho turned his attention to you.

“He looks really happy, you know. Thank you”, he spoke, handing you a fork while you drew a bit of a pattern into the mashed potatoes.

You smiled at him, huffing out a deep breath as you thought of something to say. “He makes me very happy as well, your son’s a good man.”

As the two of you bonded over in the kitchen, Javier opened up the front door, standing face to face with Lorraine, the woman he’d left at the altar. She offered him a kind smile before stepping in, seemingly unfazed and he just stood there, baffled as her husband trailed behind her.

“Didn’t expect you to show up”, she said, hanging her coat on one of the hooks.

He crossed his arms in front of his chest in a defensive manner, eyeing her husband up and down. “It’s Thanksgiving, pop always asks me.”

“And yet you never show”, she chuckled, making her way over to the kitchen.

Javier at that moment remembered who exactly was waiting in the kitchen, and quickly trailed behind the couple to get to you. You and Chuco were laughing as the three of them walked in, offering polite greetings when you noticed the new set of guests.

Lorraine gave a puzzled look as she took you in, smiling to herself as she put two and two together. “Oh! You’re Javi’s wife!”, she exclaimed, closing the gap between the two of you to engulf you in a hug. “I’m Lorraine, I help Chucho out on the farm.”

Taglist: @pedritomando @peterhollandkait @radiowallet @ophelia-ingenue @phoenixhalliwell @diogodxlot @rosiefridayrogersunday @a-court-of-feysand-and-elorcan @asta-lily @the-bottom-of-the-abyss @missstef23 @jasmincita @dobbyjen​

[iliveiloveiwrite]

Gifts // H.P.

Request: 🌻 Blurbs/Drabbles - Fluffy with Harry 🤓 - @chaoticgirl04​

A/N: This was a drabble that got away from to be honest, and I am not sorry for it! It’s a load of seasonal fluff - we’re already playing Christmas music in my house so this was bound to happen. It has such a cheesy ending and its a mess of timelines, but I love it. As always, I hope you enjoy!

Summary: the exchanging of gifts

Pairing: Harry Potter x Fem!Reader

Warnings: none - snow, fluff and cuteness.

Word count: 2.9k

Warm lights twinkle in every window of the Hogsmeade high street as you trudged through the near knee-deep depths of snow with Harry by your side.

It’s the final Hogsmeade weekend before the Christmas break, and though you really shouldn’t have left it this late, you’ve not bought a gift for the teenager now shivering next to you.

You felt a limitless amount of relief when Harry confessed late last night that he still hadn’t found you a gift either.

“Okay, it looks beautiful but it’s freezing,” You shiver, “I say we take an hour to find the gifts, meet back in this spot and leg it back to the castle. What do you think?”

Harry kisses you quickly, “I say it sounds perfect. I’ll see you back here in an hour?”

You nod; watching him plod through the snow as the warmth of his kiss is washed away by the bitter cold wind. Wrapping yourself up tightly in your thick, padded coat, you make your way into the first shop.

As you wander the aisles, you remind yourself of the agreed upon spending limit. For the most part, you stick to it.

Until you find the perfect gift.

The spending limit flies out of the window and into the dimming light of the day as you pay for the gift.

Bags in hand and gifts safely wrapped in brightly coloured tissue paper, you meet Harry at the agreed upon spot. Harry smiles broadly when he sees you walking towards him. He shifts his own bags to one hand so he can hold out a gloved hand for you to take.

Together, you walk as fast as possible through the snow back to the castle.

Stomping your feet on the stone floor of the entrance hall, you can’t help but chuckle at Harry’s wind-bitten, red face. In revenge for your laughter, Harry draws you in for a tight hug where he presses his freezing cold cheek against yours.

Shrieking, you rush back to the Gryffindor common room, desperate for the warmth of the already lit fires.

Hermione looks up from her book at the sound of your laughter as you enter the common room with Harry close behind you. She smiles at you from her spot in the corner.

“Hermione,” You begin, pulling off your hat, “Would you mind helping me with some wrapping?”

Closing her book, Hermione nods. She stands with a grin; happy to be involved.

As the both of you head to your shared dorm, you hear Ron ask Harry, “Did you buy what we talked about last night? Come on, mate. Show me what you got!”

You bite your lip to repress the laughter threatening to spill.

Hermione, herself, is a gift when it comes to wrapping. She has a knack for knowing the right sizing as well as the colour coordination of the paper she needs. Not only was Hermione the brightest witch of her age; she was also one of the most talented.

As she sticks the final piece of tape to the small box of Cauldron Cakes, she asks, “Is there anything else?”

You nod, reaching for the bag that carefully held the gift that had destroyed your pre-agreed spending limit.

You chew on the inside of your cheek with nerves as Hermione carefully unwraps the gift from its tissue paper. Hermione gasps as she holds the gift in her hands, “It’s beautiful.”

“You don’t think it’s too cheesy?”

Hermione shakes her head furiously; her trademark brunette curls bouncing in all directions, “I think he’s going to love it.”

You smile gratefully at the girl who has become a close friend in the time that you’ve dating Harry, “Thank you so much for doing this, Hermione.”

Hermione grins toothily, “I don’t mind, and besides, I wanted to know what you bought him.”

You laugh at her words; beginning to clean up the mess of bags and packaging that had soon littered the floor of your dorm room.

“When are you exchanging gifts?” Hermione ask; curiosity bright in her eyes.

“Tonight,” You confirm, “I go home tomorrow, and I don’t join you all at the Burrow until the 27th so Harry and I decided to swap gifts this evening.”

Hermione sighs, “It’s all so romantic. You’ll send me a letter telling me everything Harry gets you – don’t leave anything out!”

You sit back down at her side, “I promise,” You nudge her side with your elbow, “I happen to know that you’ll love the gift a certain Weasley has gotten you.”

Hermione rolls her eyes with a snort, “Ron is many things, but he is not a good gift giver.”

“But he’s had my help this year,” You tease.

“What?!” Hermione all but shouts.

You nod, “He came to me at the beginning of December asking for my help. I didn’t say what exactly, but I nudged him in the right direction.”

Hermione’s face turns a pretty shade of pink as she tries to work out what the youngest Weasley boy could have gotten her for Christmas. However, a knock at the door has her jumping out of her reverie and helping you hide Harry’s gifts.

“Just a minute,” You call out; throwing a blanket over your bed to smoothen out the obvious lumps of presents hidden underneath your quilt.

The unmistakable laughter of Harry and Ron sounds through the wood as you say, “It’s open.”

The two enter the room with amusement written all across both their faces. Ron tries to catch Hermione’s eye, but she stares steadfastly at the ground.

Harry laughs once more at the sight of your bed, “Great hiding place, love.”

You roll your eyes, “Hush you, I had less than a minute to hide them.”

Harry presses a kiss to your cheek as his arm winds its way around your waist, “We’re heading down to the Great Hall for the final feast – you coming?” Harry asks; amusement still very much alight in his eyes.

You reach for Hermione’s hand to pull her attention back to the room. “We’ll come with you now,” You murmur, already heading for the door.

Together, the four of you walk as a group to the Great Hall. Taking a seat at the Gryffindor table, you arrive just in time to hear Dumbledore’s end of term speech.

When food appears on the table, you waste no time in filling up your plate. You turn to Ron as you spoon vegetables onto your plate, “Will you tell your mum thank you from me for inviting me to join you next week?”

Ron nods, “Yeah, I will. She’s thrilled you’re coming. She wants to meet the person who has stolen Harry’s heart… her words, not mine.”

You laugh, winking at Harry, “Have I stolen your heart, love?”

Harry looks down at his chest and then back up at you, “I think you have, I can’t seem to find it anywhere.”

You snort, turning back to Ron, “I can’t wait to come.”

Ron smiles at you before returning to his food. You do not miss the yearning glances he sends in Hermione’s direction.

Shaking your head at the absolute absurdity of the pair of them, you turn your attention back to Harry to find him watching you with a soft smile.

“What?” You mouth; reaching for your glass of pumpkin juice.

“Nothing. Just excited to see your reaction to your presents.”

You beam at him, “I can’t wait to see what you’ve got me. I also can’t wait to see you open your presents.”

“Are they good?” Harry asks; digging for information.

You smirk, “The best.”

“What time do you want to open them?” Harry questions; eagerness displayed in his voice.

“Let’s wait until the common room is empty. That way it’s private and we can sit by the fire without being interrupted.”

“I like your thinking.”

“I like you,” You whisper causing a faint blush to rise on his cheeks.

---------

Waiting in the common room for everyone to go to bed feels like it takes forever, but it only takes a couple of hours – students still befuddled by their feast at dinner.

Hermione and Ron departed an hour ago; whispered goodbyes and see you soons exchanged before they headed to bed – smiling shyly at the other as they left together.

“How long do you think it’ll take them to get together?” You whisper to Harry.

Harry snorts, “Who knows? I hope it’s soon though. I love Ron like a brother, but he sleep talks.”

“No!” You gasp between peals of laughter.

Harry nods, “He does.”

You settle back down, resting against Harry’s side. His arm remains happily laid across your shoulder and your hand remains laid on his thigh.

The final student yawns and makes their way to their bed. The pit of excitement that had been slowly growing in your stomach bursts into your veins; lighting them with the feeling of joy. With a wide smile, you turn to Harry, “Shall we get the gifts and meet here in a couple of minutes?”

Harry grasps your chin, kissing you lightly on the mouth, “Race you!”

He throws himself off the couch and runs to the stairs; you laugh as you follow on his heels.

As quietly as you can, you tiptoe into your dorm room – careful not to disturb the already sleeping girls. You smile at Hermione; still up reading one of her many books. Pushing your feet into slippers and grabbing the presents from under your quilt, you wave and whisper a goodnight to Hermione before bounding back down the stairs to the common room.

Harry’s already there when you arrive; sitting on the worn maroon rug, a pile of hastily wrapped presents laying in front of him.

“Slow poke,” Harry comments as you sit down across from him.

You roll your eyes, “I needed to put my slippers on.”

Stretching your legs in front of you, you give Harry full view of your fluffy bunny slippers given to you by Ron on your birthday.

Harry nods solemnly, “Ah yes. We couldn’t leave Arnold and Gerald out, could we?”

You shake your head seriously, “Of course not. They’re part of this too.”

Harry tries to remain serious but a crack forms in his mask and he’s soon laughing. You join him; laughing at his laughter. This had been the happiest you had felt in a long while; Harry brought out this side of you that was a little lighter and craved the feeling of happiness and friendship as well as the all-consuming, breathlessness of teenage love.

You calm down, asking, “Who wants to go first?”

“You go first,” Harry replies, sliding one present over to you.

You beam at the messy-haired teenager before ripping into the wrapping paper. You gasp at the present; a gorgeously decorated notebook, the cover depicting one of your favourite paintings in the castle.

“Harry, it’s gorgeous, thank you,” You whisper, placing the notebook gently to one side, already thinking of ideas and thoughts to note down in it.

“You’re welcome,” Harry replies, just as quiet.

“Here,” You say, sliding his first present to him.

Harry tears open the delicately wrapped paper to find a new broomstick servicing set. Harry looks at you with bright eyes, “Thank you! How did you know mine was running low on supplies?”

“Hermione mentioned it in passing and I made a mental note.”

“Thank you very much, it’s exactly what I need.”

More presents are exchanged and so are word of thanks and kisses of gratefulness. Harry gets you some new quills to go with your new notebook as well as a small watercolour paint set as you had mentioned some weeks ago about wanting to take up painting as a new hobby. You hold back tears through all of this; you had never realised how thoughtful a gift giver Harry was.

Harry smiles constantly through all of his gifts from you; the broom servicing kit, the latest book on Quidditch strategy as well as the small box of Cauldron Cakes from Honeyduke’s. He opens them immediately; offering the box to you first before starting on his own.

Finally, only two gifts remain – one gift left each to receive.

Nerves begin to settle in your stomach; your mind hoping and praying that Harry loves this gift.

With a small smile, Harry slides his final gift to you. His cheeks are flushed but you can’t decipher whether they are from the heat from the still roaring fire or whatever is wrapped up in the deep green wrapping paper.

“This is my favourite,” Harry whispers.

“Is this what you and Ron came up with last night?”

He nods; eyes focused solely on the half unwrapped gift in your hands.

You finish unwrapping the gift; turning over what feels like a photo frame in your hands.

“Oh…” You say, holding a hand up to your mouth.

Within a silver picture frame, Harry has slid in a photo of you two from a Hogsmeade weekend weeks ago. You remember the day so clearly; it was the day of the first snow of the season and that always meant so much to you. For it to fall on a Hogsmeade weekend wasn’t simply a coincidence. Noticing the flakes from your seat in The Three Broomsticks, you dragged Harry out of the pub and into the high street. The flakes started to fall in a faster flurry, and you stuck out your tongue to try and catch them there. Harry had copied you for a minute or so before pulling you into his arms and spinning you around. He had captured your lips in a kiss soon after.

You never knew that the moment had been captured on film.

“I didn’t know Ron had taken a photo,” You whisper, running a hand over the moving photo.

“Neither had I,” Harry says just as quietly, “He didn’t show me it until last night when I was brainstorming ideas.”

You look up at the teenager you were so madly in love with; holding the frame to your chest, “Harry, this is the best present I’ve ever been given. Thank you.”

Harry nods, ducking his head from the overwhelming sense of emotion taking control of him.

You sigh shakily, standing the picture frame up with your other presents. Your hand grabs Harry’s present, looking at neatly wrapped silver paper, feeling a lot more confident in what you’ve bought him.

Before handing it over to Harry, you say, “I went over our spending limit, but I saw this, and I had to buy you it.”

Harry chuckles, “It’s okay, I went over it too.”

You hold out your gift for Harry to take; waiting nervously as he tears open the paper and opens the box.

Harry remains silent as the snow globe falls into his hand; he simply shakes the orb and watches the fake snow fall and settle around the Snowy Owl depicted there.

You clear your throat, “I know how much you miss Hedwig, and when I saw this, I needed to buy it.”

Harry opens and closes his mouth for a moment before he finally whispers brokenly, “Thank you.”

“Turn it over,” You say.

“There’s more?” Harry asks with wide eyes; what else could be added?

 “I had it inscribed…” You trail off shyly.

Harry flips the snow globe on its head; taking in the words inscribed forever onto the bottom: “The one’s that love us never really leave us.”

“This last year has been hard,” You start, “But Sirius was right – he won’t ever leave you, Harry, and neither will Hedwig. Every time you miss them, you just need to look here.”

Harry doesn’t say anything for a few minutes; he isn’t certain that he has the capacity to because he has never been given a gift as touching as this other than the photo album given to him by Hagrid at the end of his first year. Harry shakes the snow globe once again, staring at the scene of the Snowy Owl suspended in the fake snow. It wasn’t Hedwig and it never would be, but it reminded Harry so much of her that it helped to ease the pain of missing her just a little. His little finger runs over the inscription graved into the bottom and Harry lets himself feel the pain of missing his godfather; the engraving is right – Sirius would never leave him, but Harry can’t help but regret the fact that they didn’t have more time together.

With a loaded sigh, Harry sets the snow globe to one side and finally looks into your eyes. He doesn’t give you time to respond, he tackles you to the floor, supporting his weight by his hands. Without speaking, Harry kisses you – attaching his lips to yours passionately. Everything he had felt since he realised what the gift was, was poured into this kiss – his love for you, his happiness, his gratefulness, but also his mourning and the fact that he can’t believe you’re still here.

He pours it all into this kiss. The need for oxygen be damned.

Harry was too overwhelmed by the meaning of the gift for him to come up with right words to thank you; to come up with the right sentence to thank you for bringing them back into his life.

But the need for breath becomes too great and Harry breaks the kiss. You smile up at him, running a hand through his eternally messy hair as your chest heaves. Harry beams down at you, leaning in to press one more kiss to your mouth. Against your lips, he whispers, “Thank you.”

“I’m glad you like it.”

“I love it, just like I love you.”

************

General (HP) taglist: @chaotic-fae-queen​ @obsessedwithrandomthings​ @harrypotter289​ @dreamer821​ @kalimagik​ @heloisedaphnebrightmore​ @nebulablakemurphy​ @the-hufflefluffwriter​ @figlia--della--luna​ @bforbroadway​ @idont-knowrn​ @summer-writes​ @big-galaxy-chaos​ @black-lake-confessions​ @annasofiaearlobe​ @imboredandneedalife​ @levylovegood​ @haphazardhufflepuff​ @teheharrypotter​ @chaoticgirl04​ @accio-rogers​ @msmimimerton​ @izzytheninja​ @slytherinprincess03​ @iamobscuring​

[lightthewaybackhome]

Sorry this is so long. Probably should have done a 2 parter.

"My darling girl, when are you going to realize that being normal is not necessarily a virtue? It rather denotes a lack of courage!" - Aunt Frances, Practical Magic

 

My whole life, as far back as I can remember, I’ve wanted to be artistic. I’ve wanted to create. I love beauty. I love artistry. I love creation. I love the artsy look: jewelry, tattoos, flowing clothing, and funky hair. It is a personal aesthetic I keep returning to, especially as I get older. As a child, I tried so many different forms of art—painting, photography, drawing— but none of them seemed quite right. None of them got what was in my head out. All of them fell short until I started writing. Writing was a flame, a fire, a drug. Writing allowed me to express what was in my imagination. This is the first thing to understand.

Everyone is artistic and art is everywhere. I’ve believed this as long as I can remember. There are amazing artistic feats in our world: books, movies, video games, paintings, sculptures, and magnificent pieces of music. Yes, art can be very high and very special. But, art can also be found in charcuterie boards, homemade quilts, sourdough bread, cocktails, soup, and all ordinary things if we but look and see. Art can be high magic and art can be ordinary. This is the second thing to understand.

As I’ve embraced being a homemaker, a HearthKeeper, a woman where she’s meant to be, I came across the term domestic artist. As much as I didn’t like the book Eve in Exile by Rebekah Merkle, it gave me this. It gave me the term domestic artist. That stuck with me. It spoke to me because it captured both the first and the second thing. It captured the never-ceasing call to create which haunts me at all times, and it elevated and honored the ordinary in a sprinkling of fairy dust. It said, “Yes, you have to cook today. Three meals plus snacks and drinks. It’s your job, but, but, what if, what if instead of looking at it as some drudgery, some Cinderella enslavement, what if you looked at it as an opportunity to create beauty?”

Not every meal, every outfit, every moment of your day can be a work of art. Some days you just have to do what you have to do. Some days get upended in the opening credits with a broken washer or a sleepless child. Some days plans change. Life changes. One minute life looks like this, and then the next it’s on to something completely different. But, the beauty of being a domestic artist is that you can create art in any of these moments and in any setting. You can find art in any moment and in any setting.

See, the world tells us that homemaking, HearthKeeping, is boring. It tells us it’s pointless. A waste. You could be changing the world. Only dumb useless women keep their homes. And that’s because they’re either tied down by a dictator of a husband or the demands of children or the cultural trappings of their religion. Courage, dear heart. Courage! Homemaking is magic. Homemaking is flexible. Homemaking changes with the seasons and the woman. I, I am a bit bohemian, a bit rustic, a mixture of rugged and romantic. I grew up a tomboy, but have embraced being a woman in her home since I was a child. I love leather and lace. I love cottage-witch aesthetics. I love boots and long flowing things. I like deer heads, linen, skulls, and ruffles. I like feathers and dreamcatchers, but I also love to decorate with open space. I love pies and feeding my husband. But, look at this, one of my best friends is a classic. She loves clean lines, traditional and timeless pieces. She loves modern accents. She loves beachy highlights and hammocks. She’s not into farmhouse, rustic modern, or raw-edged wood. On any given Sunday, she’s in a pencil skirt, simple top, simple heels with her three daughters in matching dresses while I’m in distressed boyfriend jeans, a mullet-tucked top, and wearing my crow skull. We’re very different, but we’re both homemakers who love making our homes.

I have a woman in my life who quilts and that flows out into their decorating. So many of her things are beautifully hand sewn. If she wants it, she makes it. Another friend grew up in Africa and her home is filled with her love of that culture. One dear friend loves plants and grows amazing flowers that she uses to create Instagram-worth bouquets. Another woman isn’t super fluffy-feminine but she has an eye for remodeling and so is constantly making improvements on her home: flooring, painting, and more. My sisters, like me, both enjoy a minimalist approach to decorating and all three of us have a special place for coffee. Both my sisters’ homes are welcoming and peaceful even with kids running around like crazy.

That’s the point, the world tells women to band together, that we’re a sisterhood, that we should go out and change the world, abandoning our homes before we’re relegated to only kitchen and nursery work, but reality tells me that the most amazing women I know are busy in their homes. This is sisterhood. This is where we bloom. It is here that we have flexibility. For over five years, I’ve struggled with chronic health issues. Homemaking lets me decide each day what I can do and how I’m going to do it. Homemaking lets you change what you do for each season of life. Lots of littles? Keep it simple. Empty nest? Explore. Somewhere in between? Keep growing. Lots of energy? So many things you can expand into if you just refuse to believe the lie that homemaking is beneath you. Don’t be normal. Don’t believe that homemaking is a waste of time. Don’t buy into the lie that you are somehow being less than everyone else when you raise your children, love your husband, and create beauty. Have the courage to be strange. We were made for this! It suits us. This is an environment women thrive in.

When I got over my grammar inhibitions and started writing, I felt like my soul came alive. I felt like I’d finally found what I’d been searching for since I came into this world. It doesn’t matter whether I’m writing an epic story or writing about HearthKeeping or just word doodling, writing, words, stories just flow from me. Wonderfully, homemaking is like that for me, too. I want to read books, I want to learn, I want to talk about it, I want to do it. It’s not perfect. I don’t always feel glorious, but I do feel ‘right’ when I’m doing this. I feel like I’m where I belong. I feel like this is a place I can both rest in and grow in. I feel safe when I’m having a fatigue flare up and I feel excited when I think about all that I can do.

A real-life example: Sundays are long hard days. They’re days that generally spike my fatigue and my husband is worn out. They’re both the best and hardest day of the week. When we get home I make a cocktail and we crash. Inevitably, the minute I sit down my man asks for a snack and what we’re having for dinner. For several years, this drove me up a wall. It is Sunday. The day of REST, why is it my responsibility to always make food? Epic sigh. Epic whiny sigh. I would meal plan for the whole week and then wing it on Sunday and Monday, always with poor results and grumpiness on my part. Then, one week as I meal-planned, I realized that I could also prepare for the weekend. Lightbulb. Facepalm. Really? Why had it taken me into my 40th year of life to realize that if I want a quiet, restful, happy weekend, I should just plan snacks, drinks, and meals ahead of time? I’m going to blame it on my chronic health, brain fog addled mind. I’m going to blame it on laziness. I’m going to blame it on being a young homemaker. Some are understandable, some are inexcusable.

Sundays now involve way less stress because I can immediately prepare snacks and know what we’re eating the minute we get home. No more attitude issue. No more stress. Easy and nice.

Did this change the world? Does this matter to anyone but myself? Did my husband even notice? Maybe not, but this is homemaking. This is HearthKeeping. It is my job and my calling. Even without notice or world-shattering consequences, I’m pleased with the outcome. More than pleased, I’m really happy about it. It brings me joy and delight to find a better way to take care of my family. It allows me to sprinkle my Sunday afternoon with just a little bit of artistry. I make drinks, snacks, dinner. I feed my family.

See, one of the lies that the feminists preach is that we’re wasted in our homes. And yet, the majority of the women I know who work outside the home aren’t doing glamorous jobs. They’re not travel bloggers or world-renowned chiefs or CEOs. They’re cosmetologists, retail workers, bank tellers, nurses, teachers, and such. Now, none of those are bad. Working outside the home isn’t bad. (I think each family has to decide what family looks like to them.) Please, please, don’t read that as degrading. I worked retail and I think retail is important. These are all God-honoring employment in which you can strive and serve. I’m not bashing any of those jobs. I have many many dear friends who work outside the home. What I am saying is that I think we as women need to ask ourselves if leaving our homes en masse was worth it. Has it given us all the joy, delight, and fulfillment the feminists promised us?

I’ve done both. I’ve been a co-owner of a business that I helped grow from nothing to something amazing. I’ve worked as an everyday retail worker. I write and am the main editor for a small neighborhood magazine. And I’m a HearthKeeper. I will tell you right now, no qualifications, that HearthKeeping is the most satisfying job I’ve ever had. It not only challenges me every day but it also works with me. The boundaries are what I set in place and so I grow as I can. The work never ends, yes, but it also never ends. There is always something else to explore.

I think being a homemaker is largely attitude. You can buck against what you do, and most women do. Just spend two minutes on Pinterest looking at doing laundry or dishes and the bitter hatred comes pouring out. Look at the complaints women make against their churches: we’re relegated to doing nursery work and kitchen duty. What if, just for a moment, we decided to be Domestic Artists? What if, for just a moment, we tried loving our jobs instead of complaining? What if we thought that dishes meant food and good times and healing of the souls around us? What if we saw laundry as a way to keep beauty and cleanliness around us? What if we saw it as our privilege and delight to take care of the food, children, clothing, cleaning, cooking, gardening, growing of the next generation, and the men of the world? What if we embraced the domestic arts and saw them as truly magnificent, glorious, unique arts? How many of us would be able to say with a straight face that working retail is more fulfilling than managing a small world? Is it more fulfilling to go work in an office than it is to orchestrate a place of welcome, rest, and renewal for your husband and yourself? It might be more visible, but is it truly more long-lasting?

I can say that it isn’t. I can say that I think being a homemaker is uniquely suited for women and that we should have the courage to go against the grain of our world and say no. No, I’m not going to give all of myself to work outside the home when the home is far more challenging and interesting. No, I’m not going to believe the lie that homemaking is oppression and boredom. I will find beauty in the ordinary and I will embrace art in the everyday. This is one of those amazing jobs where it is what you make it. It is what you pour into it. If you think it’s boring or demeaning you won’t get anything out of it. If you think it is challenging and rewarding, you will get the world out of it. You will grow yourself and those around you. Think about what a wonderful thing it would be if we made our homes our careers! If we women really took on the label Domestic Artist in our own individual ways.

[let-me-luve-you]

T-Shirt Quilts

Jared Padalecki x Reader

Summary: Every year the SPN crew does Secret Santa and this year you get your best friends name.

Warnings: Secret feelings, fluff, if there is angst you have to squint to see it i think

Word Count: 2,190

@spnchristmasbingo​

MASTERLIST

SPN CHRISTMAS BINGO

You watched as Jessica, a PA, walked around carrying a basket with names on paper for the annual Secret Santa. You’ve been working on the set of Supernatural for a few months. You still didn’t know everyone so you were hoping you got someone you knew. 

Secretly you hoped it was Jared. You’ve had a huge crush on him since you guest starred last year on two episodes. You stayed in touch between your days on set last season to when you started a full time role this season. It helped that you both live in Austin. Jared quickly became your best friend over the months, but you still harbored those feelings.

Jessica walked up to you and smiled at you. ”Once you draw, let me know who you got so I can write it down. And don’t worry, us PAs have different bowls. My name is in another one.”

You smiled at her and reached into the bowl. You picked up a piece of paper and opened it. 

“I got myself?” You looked up at Jessica who was laughing.

“Put it back and draw again.” She said as her laughter died out. She held the bowl up to you once again. You put your hand back in the bowl and grabbed another paper.

You kept your face neutral as you read the name quietly to Jessica since the person you got was a few feet away. “Jared. I got Jared.” You smiled at Jessica as she smirked while writing his name down. Your heart was racing because you wanted to get him something special. More special than what you already have stored in your closet back in Austin.

Jared walked over to the both of you. Jessica smiled at him.

“Jared, have you drawn for the Secret Santa?” Jessica asked holding up the bowl. Jared shook his head. He reached into the bowl and smirked as he read the name. He turned to show Jessica and she smirked again as she was writing. “Well you guys have fun shooting your next scene. I’m off the rest of the day.”

“Bye Jessica. Merry Christmas.” Jared said. You smiled and hugged her as you wished her safe travels. Jared turned to look at you. “I have a few hours until I have to film again and I know for a fact you are here way to early since you are doing evening shoots. So would you like to accompany me to a movie and a nap in my trailer?” You laughed and nodded your head. 

That weekend you were walking around shops trying to get an idea for Jared when you walked past a craft store. You walked in just to see what they had. As you walked further into the store, you saw all the quilt supplies hanging on a wall and laying on shelves. An older woman approached you. 

“Hello dear, are you looking to make a quilt or are you looking to have one made?” She asked. 

“Um… I’m not sure.” You replied honestly. “I don’t even know what pattern I would want.” 

“Well let me just tell you more about what we do here so you can decide if you would like one. Holidays are coming up and it would be a lovely gift.” She led you towards the table that had a pamphlet on it. “We do patterns, we do quilt square patterns, and we do t-shirt quilts.”

“What are t-shirt quilts?” You asked genuinely confused. 

“They are quilts made out of t-shirts. We cut the shirt into a square and then we put them together like a quilt square pattern. And if you don’t have enough t-shirts to fill a complete quilt, you can add some fabric.”

You thought about all the Always Keep Fighting shirts Jared had given you over the summer. A few from every campaign he had done. Plus you had other Supernatural shirts based off of Sam you could add. “I think you just helped me figure out my Christmas gift for a friend. How long does it take you to make the quilt?”

Normally it would take us a while, but with the holiday season, we would have it done in a week.” She replied happily that she might have made a sale. 

“And what time do you close? I have some shirts I would like to turn into a quilt.” You said. “Do you do weighted quilts?”

“We do. It will cost you extra though.” She said. “And we close at nine tonight.” 

You smiled at her. You told her you would be back in a bit. Just had to run home to grab the shirts. She smiled and said she would be here to help you when you got back. 

You almost ran to your car to hurry. Jared was due to be at your apartment later that evening when you finished shopping. You didn’t want to risk him seeing you home and think it’s okay to come over. You ran into your room once you unlocked your apartment. Quickly opening your dresser, you grabbed one of each campaign. Then you went to the closet to grab the Supernatural shirt. You locked your apartment and rushed back to the shop. 

“I’m back.” You said smiling. Linda, the kind lady that helped you earlier led you to the quilting room to design the front of the quilt. After aligning the shirts how you wanted them, she led you to the fabric section to select something for the back. You smiled when you saw a plaid design that just screamed Sam Winchester. “I really like this. It matches the person who is getting this.”

Linda smiled at you as she saw your eyes light up thinking about the quilt and the person it was going to. “This will be a big quilt. Probably around six feet.”

“That’s perfect. The guy I’m getting this for is 6’4.” You said with a laugh. 

“I’m sure he will love it. I will give you a call when it is done.” Linda said. You smiled at her and left the store. 

Two weeks later you were carrying your wrapped box into the building where the SPN Christmas party was being held. You discarded your present and walked towards Jensen. 

“Hiya Jay!” You said. He turned and smiled at you. He wrapped you in a big hug.

“How’s my girl tonight?” He asked as he pulled away. 

“I’m doing good. How are you? Ready to see the family?” You asked back. 

“Better now that you're here.” You both laughed. “Of course I’m ready to see the family. It’s been a long week. Just glad I get to spend a few weeks with them without any interruptions.”

“I bet. I can’t wait to come see them on Christmas. I miss the little ones.” You said. You jumped as arms wrapped around you from behind. 

You relaxed when you heard, “I miss them too. I’m spoiling them. Nearly all the presents under my tree are for them.” Jared said. 

“Dang it Jared, I told you not to buy them anything.” Jensen said annoyed. But you noticed he wasn’t too annoyed based off the smile on his face. 

“Okay guys. We have the presents to hand out, so please grab a seat.” You heard of the sound system, which stopped Jared from replying to Jensen. 

Presents were being handed out by the PAs that did the drawings. Jessica handed you and Jared presents with a smirk before she turned to Jensen and handed him his. 

Jared laughed as he felt how heavy his was. “Someone went all out this year. Or I got bricks. Not sure.” Jensen laughed in response. 

You noticed Jared was side eyeing you as you were side eyeing him. You were nervous to see his reaction. When given the signal to open the gifts, you slowly opened yours as you also watched Jared. Jared ripped into the present. He pulled the quilt out and stood up to unfold it so he could observe the whole thing. 

“Oh my gosh.” You heard him whisper. You looked up to see tears in his eyes. Jensen looked up when he heard his best friend. 

“What is it?” Jensen asked. Jared turned the quilt so Jensen could see the Always Keep Fighting shirts lining the front. “Looks like there’s a note with it.” 

Whenever anxiety gets the worst of you, remember to Always Keep Fighting. This is your fighting blanket. It is a 20 pound weighted quilt to help you calm down when you feel like you’re out of control. Thank you for being the best role model for people around you and the people around the world. You deserve the world Jared. AKF

Jared read the note out loud. Jensen smiled and started tearing up too. He knew the battles Jared had and he was touched by the person who gave Jared this gift. 

You smiled at the two of the gushing over the quilt. You finally turned towards your gift and opened it. You pulled out a photo album. It had a picture of you, Jared, Jensen, Misha, and Alex on the cover. You flicked through the pictures. Some were cellphone pictures of you with the crew and cast, some were behind the scenes photos taken by the on set photographer, and some were from conventions. Each page had a quote on it and each quote related to the photos on those pages. You were amazed by the work someone put into your gift. 

As you continued to look through the photos. Jensen and Jared smiled at you. Jared noticed your tears building and sat by you to look through the picture with you. He was surprised you hadn’t noticed his handwriting yet. 

“This year we decided to let each other know their Secret Santa now instead of waiting a few days. So please go find your person.” Bob announced over the system. 

You looked at Jared as he looked at you. 

“Do you like it?” Jared asked. 

“I love it. This gift is beautiful. Did you do this?” You asked him. He nodded his head. You smiled bigger. “I will cherish it forever. Thank you.”

“Did you see the last couple of pages?” You shook your head no and Jared flipped to the pages for you. You noticed the majority of them from your time during the summer with him. Some you didn’t recognize. You smiled as you thought these were pictures Jared snuck of you. 

“You really are amazing Jared, thank you.” You said giving him a hug. Letting it go on longer than normal. 

“Did you get me the quilt?” He asked. You nodded. “It’s the best gift I’ve ever gotten. What made you think to do that.”

“Was shopping around and Linda, the one who made it, gave me the idea.” You said. “I was worried you wouldn’t like it. I didn’t figure you would want a blanket for Christmas.”

“Are you kidding me? This is the best. I love it. I’m going to use it all the time. Why make it weighted though?”

“Weighted blankets are supposed to help when you feel anxious. It’s supposed to help make you feel grounded. Figure you would need that when things get overwhelming.” You said. Jared smiled at you. 

Little to yours and Jared’s knowledge, you were being watched by everyone. They had set you guys up to get each other. Hoping you would both admit your feelings to one another. 

“Y/N, can I tell you something.” You nodded at the taller man.”Seeing this blanket and seeing how much thought you put into it makes me have to tell you this today. I can’t hold it back anymore.” 

“Okay. What is it?” You asked. 

“I like you Y/N. I have since you guest starred.” He said nervously. 

“Well I wish you would have said something sooner, because I feel the same.” You said back. 

“Really?” You nodded. “Since you guest starred?” You nodded once again. “You could have said something too, you know.” You laughed and leaned towards him. Jared pushed a piece of hair behind your ear and leaned in. His lips just hovering over yours. “Is this okay?” He asked. 

“Yes.” You whispered so quietly, Jared wasn’t sure he heard you. He leaned forward and finally connected your lips in a soft kiss. 

The room erupted in cheers. You both pulled away, remembering your surroundings. 

“About time you two.” Jensen said. “If all we had to do was make you secret Santa partners, we should have done that a long time ago.”

“You guys planned this?” You asked. 

Jensen nodded, “Yeah. I was the one that mentioned it because I was sick of hearing about your feelings for one another but neither of you telling each other. 

Jared laughed as he pulled you closer, as everyone else went back to their conversations. Jensen silently watched his best friend and someone who is becoming like a sister to him. 

“I’m kind of embarrassed.” You whispered to Jared. 

“Don't be.” He said looking you in the eyes. He gently grabbed your chin and brought your lips to his. “Merry Christmas Y/N.”

[hockeylvr59]

Secret Love Part 8 || Cale Makar

Requested: [ ] yes [x] no

Authors Note: So uh...I wasn’t going to post this until at least Wednesday but uh....after that game...I changed my mind. It’ll definitely be a bit of a wait until the next chapter because this was the last one I had banked but hopefully it makes it worth it. Thanks Cale for making me spontaneously combust about a dozen times today. 

Gif credit: @mitchmarner

Warnings: cursing, smut

Word Count: 3,975

~~~~~~

It had been a week since Cale had gotten home and although you’d seen him, you hadn’t had any alone time together. Cale had come over a few times, once with just Laura to help you do some more unpacking, a second time with his mom and dad who had bought you a patio set as your housewarming gift and then a third when his promised king-size bed had arrived and he’d brought his brother Taylor to help swap it out with your double.

Each time, you’d had to settle for a quick hug, unable to kiss him like you wanted to in front of his family. If you were slightly frustrated by having him so close and not being able to act the way you wanted, you didn’t let it show, but it did contribute to the utter exhaustion you were feeling.

Work was crazy, anyone wanting to move trying to do so while school was out for the summer. On top of that, you were trying to get the house completely unpacked, just wanting to be able to live without tripping over boxes or having to dig for something you needed. You’d been eating far more takeout than you would have liked, so when you came home to find Cale in your kitchen cooking, you almost immediately started to cry.

“Hey, you’re home…” Cale grinned, stirring something in the pot in front of him. When he noticed the tears, he adjusted the burners before stepping to wrap his arms around you. “Why are you crying?” He questioned and you just sniffled into his chest, so many emotions swelling inside of you.

You weren’t shocked that Cale was in your home, you’d sent the security code to the hide-a-key to Cale and his family in case of emergency. But the fact that he was here...cooking dinner...you certainly hadn’t expected that in your exhausted state. As your body finally settled at the feeling of Cale’s hand rubbing your back, you leaned up to kiss him gently.

“I just...this was unexpected and I’m exhausted and you caught me off guard.” You murmured. Cale nodded and kissed you again before glancing over at the pots on the stove.

“Well go change. Dinner is almost ready.” Cale insisted. Following his instructions you moved to throw on a cotton sundress, letting your hair down from where you’d clipped it to keep it off of your neck. By the time you returned to the kitchen, dressed down and barefoot, Cale had glasses of wine poured and was in the process of serving dinner. “Take those glasses outside and I’ll meet you there in a minute?” He suggested.

Taking a sip of one of the glasses of wine, you moved through your house, out the backdoor, and into one of the cushy chairs surrounding your outdoor table. It was a beautiful evening, and Cale’s surprise appearance was just what you needed after a long day. The fact that he’d cooked...well that impressed you even more and you couldn’t wait to taste what he’d made. A minute or so later, Cale was setting a plate down in front of you, loaded down with chicken alfredo.

“My favorite.” You declared, smiling over at him as he settled into the chair next to you, scooting it just a little bit closer.

“I know.” He replied. “Hopefully it tastes okay. I uh...I’ve never made it before. I had to google a recipe.” Honestly, it was a hard dish to screw up and Cale wasn’t totally incompetent in the kitchen so your hopes were relatively high.

“I’m sure it will be great. I didn’t have to cook it and it’s homemade not takeout.” You assured him, squeezing his hand before reaching for your fork. The food was more than okay and you devoured your entire plate fairly quickly. Cale finished fairly quickly as well and leaving your plates on the table for the moment, the two of you moved over to the loveseat, just enjoying each other’s company.

Cale’s fingers stroked gently at the skin just above your knee and his chin rested on top of your head as you laid yours on his shoulder.

“I’ve missed you.” He breathed, pressing kisses into your hair.

“Me too…” You agreed. “This whole sneaking around thing is hard when I want to kiss you all the time.” Cale chuckled, his chest vibrating against you.

“I know…” Cale conceded. “I just…” He started speaking until you cut him off.

“But we both know your mom would ask a million questions and it’s kinda nice not worrying about what anyone else thinks even though I know she’d be happy for us.”

“Exactly.” Cale mused. “Speaking of my mom though…” He transitioned. “She uh, she suggested I come talk to you about something...which saved me from having to make an excuse...” He admitted trailing off.

“What?” You questioned, confused.

“I uh...I’m thinking about taking a trip,” Cale explained. “Mom suggested I ask you to go with me.” Your eyes went wide immediately wondering if Laura had picked up on this even if you hadn’t told her anything. “She said it would be good for us to spend some time together after everything. I think she’s still worried about our friendship.” He continued, rubbing at the back of his neck after a moment.

“Oh.” You whispered, your brain just a step slow on the uptake.

“I uh...was going to ask you anyway for the record.” Cale clarified. “Her suggestion was just the prompt for me to come over tonight.”

“So a trip huh?” You breathed, curious as to what he had in mind. “Like to Banff or BC?”

“I was thinking Iceland.”

Your eyes went wide and you twisted to face him, your stunned reaction making his cheeks flush.

“Iceland?” You repeated. Cale could have given you a million guesses as to the location he had in mind and you still never would have guessed that.

“Yes, Iceland,” Cale said, completely nonchalant. “It’s supposed to be beautiful in the summer. And let’s face it, you and I aren’t really beach people. Looking at all the things there are to do there, it sounded like a trip we’d both enjoy.” Cale was right, neither of you was really a ‘lay around on a beach all day’ kind of person. The fact that he’d put thought into what you would like when selecting a location made your heart skip a beat.

“So what do you say?” He finally inquired. “Take some time off work and go on a trip with me?” You were nodding almost immediately, excitement filling your veins. As if you wouldn’t go pretty much anywhere with Cale if he asked you to. “Good.” He grinned. “I’ll make all the plans and let you know the exact dates.”

Standing, he pulled you to your feet and wrapped his arms around you.

“Our first vacation together as a couple. I can’t wait.” He breathed, kissing you softly but deeply.

“Hopefully it’s just the first of our many adventures.” You murmured against his lips. Cale continued to kiss you until your knees started to go weak before he pulled away, moving to clean up your dishes. “I can do that.” You insisted. “You cooked.”

Your attempt to grab the dishes failed when Cale dodged your hands and moved inside.

“Relax sweetheart. I got it.” He called, and you shook your head feeling spoiled. Little gestures like tonight meant worlds more to you than any material present ever could and you felt blessed that Cale always seemed to want to do things to show you just how important you were. Letting yourself back inside, you moved through the living room where the picture Cale gave you last week was now settled among so many others. While not every photo included Cale, a good number of them did and it was amazing to see just how far your relationship had come.

Pictures weren’t the only things you had that revealed the depth of your friendship. Moving into the guest bedroom, you sat down on the bed, your fingers immediately drifting over the fabric of the quilt you’d found stored in one of your boxes from your childhood home. It was made of every jersey Cale had ever worn, even including the avs. You yourself had worn pretty much every one of these jerseys as you cheered Cale on from the bleachers.

Lost in thought about all of those weekends and afternoons spent at various rinks you missed Cale searching for you.

“What are you doing in here?” Cale murmured, his body leaning against the doorframe.

“Just thinking…” You responded, smiling over at him fondly. You felt Cale’s eyes just take you in before he realized just what you were sitting on. He had never seen your quilt before so you watched as his eyes went wide.

“This is…” He cut himself off and you reached out to him, drawing him further into the room.

“The summation of all of the years I spent freezing my butt off while supporting my best friend.” You ribbed him, your fingers running along his abs as he stood in front of you. Cale had a mystified expression on his face and you reached for his hands, holding them in your own. “I’ve always been so proud of you, you know that right?” You insisted. “Like my family has always joked that being your biggest fan is one of my defining personality traits.”

Sliding to your feet in the limited space between Cale’s body and the bed frame, you gently pressed a kiss to his lips.

“My mom saved all of the jerseys and I guess when I was in college she sewed them all together to make this.” You explained. “I got it shortly after I graduated but I forgot about it for a while. Then I found it while unpacking and decided it would be perfect in here.” It was something sentimental and it made you feel even more like this home was a place for the two of you. It was a piece of Cale present even when he couldn’t be.

Cale’s only response was to kiss you again, his hands pulling your body close with the sort of touch that made you feel both powerful and powerless at the same time. The more time you spent with him, the more all of those suppressed feelings rose to the surface ready to sweep you away. You weren’t ready to admit it, even to yourself, but a nagging voice in the back of your mind was getting louder and louder by the day with one clear message: you love him.

Pulling back from the kiss you let out a long yawn, your eyes blinking slowly.

“Someone really is tired.” Cale murmured, his arms wrapping around you snugly. Nodding against his chest, you relaxed against him, some of the tension in your body slowly slipping away.

“I need a shower though...so I can’t go to bed.” You mumbled, your words muffled by his shirt. Cale still heard you though because suddenly he was scooping you up bridal style and carrying you into the bathroom, setting you down on the vanity. After closing the bathroom door behind him, Cale opened the shower door and reached in to turn the water on.

Before he’d even turned back to you, you were already certain that he had plans for the two of you to shower together. That was confirmed when Cale removed his clothes before slipping his hands under your ass to slide your dress over your head. Gentle hands pulled your undergarments off as well before falling to your waist to carefully set you onto your feet on the bathroom tile.

Checking the water temperature, Cale stepped in, pulling you with him under the spray. The sight of his wet body in front of you made your mind go blank. You knew you were lucky, but god...the sight of him was mindboggling.

“Are you going to shower or stare at me?” Cale prodded, leaning down to kiss you quickly but firmly. Rolling your eyes, you wet your hair before stepping from under the water to get shampoo. “Just hold still.” Cale directed, his hands already covered in a soapy lather. Watching him, you felt his fingers run through your hair before they lightly scraped at your scalp, massaging gently.

“That feels good.” You hummed, tilting your head a bit into his hands. As more stress left your body, Cale guided you back under the spray until all of the soap was washed down the drain. He repeated the process with your conditioner, making sure not to coat your roots, lazy kisses killing time before it too was washed away.

Quickly washing your face yourself, you turned to find him squeezing your body wash into his palm. Though the feeling of his hands rubbing over your back was innocent enough, by the time you turned to face him you were relaxed and on edge all at the same time. His hands on your breasts drew an unsolicited moan from your throat and immediately his eyes flashed with lust.

You couldn’t tell from his behavior though, his touch remaining light and caring as he drew his hands up and down your body, lathering you in soap. Though you were still exhausted, as you rinsed off you couldn’t help but feel that uptick in heart rate and tingle all over your body that signaled your desire.

“Remind me to shower with you more often.” You said softly, reaching out for him. “That was really nice...thank you.”

“Such a hardship,” Cale replied, an easy grin on his face. It was impossible not to take what he had tee’d up for you and you dropped your fingers to trail along the v of his hips.

“I mean something is hard.” You smirked, just barely grazing your fingers against his semi-erect dick. Cale immediately let out a low grunt in response. Eyeing him for a moment, you moved to drop to your knees but Cale’s hands stopped you, quickly pressing you against the shower wall. “Cale...let me take care of you...you’ve been taking care of me all night.” You requested.

“And I’m not done yet,” Cale announced. A shiver ran through your body and you bit your lip watching as he moved to step out of the shower. As your mind flashed to the condoms in the vanity drawer, you thought about your upcoming trip.

A split-second decision had you reaching out to stop him, and this time when you bit your lip it was because you were slightly nervous. You hadn’t been with anyone in a long time besides Cale and you knew you were clean. You were fairly certain he hadn’t been with anyone else besides you in the last few months and you knew the Avs players were tested fairly regularly for all manner of things. And with your birth control given via shot every three months the risk of pregnancy was extremely low.

“Do you not want to…?” Cale asked. It was clear that you had confused him, so swallowing hard you moved to remedy that.

“I do. Of course I do.” You assured him. “I just...I was thinking…” There really wasn’t any reason for you to be nervous, you were both adults who could have this kind of conversation, so swallowing hard you just spit it out. “I get a birth control shot every three months and I know I’m clean. I’m pretty confident you are as well and it would be nice not to have to stop to reach for a condom every time if you’re comfortable going without.” Taking another deep breath you spoke once more before stopping to await Cale’s response. “Of course if you want to continue using them we can...your comfort is important to me.”

It seemed to take Cale a minute to process what you threw at him but after a moment he nodded and stepped toward you again.

“Are you sure?” He questioned, his eyes revealing that he wasn’t fully certain but he was definitely intrigued.

“That my birth control is effective? Yes. That I want to feel you and only you? Yes. That none of that matters unless you’re okay going bare? Triple yes. So go grab a condom, Cale.” You murmured pushing him toward the shower door.

When he resisted your push you sighed, the sound choked off as Cale’s mouth came down with a demand that had been absent before.

“I’m okay with it.” He insisted when you finally pulled away to breathe. Searching his gaze, all those hesitations that were there before were gone, leaving nothing but desire.

“Then why don’t you take care of me like you promised.” You suggested.

Cale’s strong hands fell to your thighs, hauling them up his body and around his waist as he leveraged you against the shower wall. It was a show of athletic strength that sent a wave of moisture to your core, one that Cale quickly discovered as he brushed his thumb through your folds, ending at your clit.

“You wet enough for me?” Cale asked, his nose bumping against yours as he pressed a needy kiss to your lips. Feeling him hard, pressed between you, it was impossible to do anything but nod. He didn’t move, however, until you eventually found your voice.

“Need you inside me.” You commanded softly. Cale started to shift but then cursed lowly.

“Spit in your hand.” He directed. Realizing he was concerned that the water was washing away some of the natural lubrication you followed his instructions, spitting and then wrapping your hand around cock. You’d barely started removing your fingers when he pulled back to shift and adjusting your grip you settled his tip at your entrance. He slipped through your fingers as he pressed up inside of you and the dual sensation drew a sharp moan from deep in your belly.

The lack of a condom wasn’t super noticeable, but you could have sworn he felt a little hotter and the friction was a little smoother without a barrier between you. They were minute differences but just as you were aware of every other sensation Cale’s body created, you were aware of those as well.

As Cale thrust his hips against yours you took in the difference between this time and your previous two times together. Of course the location was different, but while the first time had been need driven and the second beyond soft, this was a combination of the two. The physical exertion required on Cale’s part meant that he couldn’t take his time, but he was also acting ever so gentle, truly focused on taking care of you.

Determined to do your part, you wrapped your arms around Cale’s neck, kissing him as you rolled your hips down against his. Each hip roll created slightly different timing against Cale’s thrusts and the variety of angles created drew curses from your lips.

“Fuck…” You moaned when one angle hit a particularly good spot deep inside of you. “Right there…” Holding your hips still, Cale’s next thrusts hit the same spot and your head fell back against the shower wall. One, two, three more thrusts had you screaming Cale’s name, your orgasm crashing down on you hard, taking with it all of the frustration you’d been feeling before.

With a pleasurable numbness settling in your muscles, it took you a moment to realize that Cale was still grinding again you, seeking his own orgasm. Though you were slightly oversensitive, you wanted Cale to orgasm so you trailed your hands over his arms, appreciating just how big and broad he was. His body held such power that it both amazed you and turned you on.

Feeling Cale’s strain you pulled him into a kiss, your hand dropping between your bodies to gently roll his balls between your fingers.

“You gonna fill me up handsome?” You breathed against his mouth. “Gonna let me feel your cum deep inside me?” His balls twitched and he groaned your name. With one more half-thrust you felt him pulse inside you and his hot sticky semen coated your inner walls. The foreign feeling sent a jolt through you and caused a surprise orgasm to ripple through your body, completely exhausting you.

“Shit…” Cale grunted, his forehead pressed against your own. A long moment passed as Cale worked to collect his breath. “Can you stand?” He posed the question softly, his hands shifting on your thighs so that he didn’t drop you.

You honestly weren’t sure your legs would support your weight so you shook your head burying it against Cale’s shoulder.

“Alright,” Cale replied, shifting one hand quickly to turn the water off, which was surprisingly still warm, before placing it back on your thigh, elbowing the door open. Slowly pulling out of you, he set you down on the vanity, his hands coming up to cup your cheeks as he kissed you. As soon as he felt you shiver, however, he reached behind him for a towel, quickly wrapping it around your body. Retrieving a warm rag he cleaned you up first before wiping himself down. You could still feel his cum slowly dripping out of you, leaving you feeling dirty but in a good way. That was by far the most intimate thing you had ever done and it felt you feeling even closer to Cale than you were before.

Wrapped in a towel, you watched Cale quickly dry himself off before throwing his clothes back on. Then he turned his attention to you, carefully drying you off as well before lifting and carrying you back into your bedroom. Since you’d been too tired to make your bed this morning, he was able to easily settle you between the sheets. The moment your head hit the pillow you felt your eyes start to struggle to remain open. When Cale moved to your bedroom door your heart sank.

“Are you leaving me?” You whimpered, tears forming in your eyes. Immediately Cale paused in the doorway, turning to face you.

“Sweetheart...I’m just hanging the towels up and grabbing your dirty clothes. I’ll be right back.” Nodding, you closed your eyes, not opening them until the bed shifted beside you. “Come here.” Cale murmured opening his arms to you. You settled against him, your head on his shoulder as he kissed your forehead.

“Sunshine...I’m not just going to leave you after sex okay. Not unless I absolutely have to.” You knew that, you did, you were just exhausted and feeling vulnerable after that experience. Cale’s fingers stroked through your still wet hair and you felt yourself starting to doze against him, his rhythmic breath soothing you.

“I should go home at some point though.” Cale finally admitted. “Otherwise mom is going to ask a lot of questions.”

“Can’t you just tell her you fell asleep watching a movie and didn’t want to drive back when you woke up because it was the middle of the night?” You pleaded, pout settling onto your face. For a moment you thought Cale was going to resist, but then he kissed the pout right off of your face.

“Yeah, I can do that.” He agreed. “Let me go lock your doors and I’ll be right back.’’ He stated, slipping out from under you. When he returned it was with a bottle of water, which he placed on your bedside table before moving around the bed, shedding all of his clothes except his boxers. As he slid into bed, you snuggled against him once more, and this time you stopped fighting sleep knowing that he was right here with you. Right where he was supposed to be.

[kaurwreck]

my @lgbtincomics​ secret gift exchange gift for @augustheart​! 

Thomas Blake woke from a fitful sleep begrudgingly. His mouth felt sticky, and his eyes burned as he pried them open with the enthusiasm of a man hungover, without any of the fond memories of drinking. 

A glance at the ungodly hour on the decrepit, ornate grandfather clock across the room and Thomas was almost sure he hadn’t slept very much at all. He couldn’t be entirely sure because the clock, like much of the House of Secrets, operated on its own logic, but he was sure enough to feel ornery over it.

He groaned, rolled over, and curled in on himself beneath his quilt.

He waited.

He uncurled himself.

He waited.

He flipped his pillow over.

He waited.

He rolled onto his stomach.

He waited.

He kicked away the blanket, only to scramble to pull it back over his naked body because what the house lacked in charm, contemporary amenities, sense, and taste, it also lacked in insulation and Vermont winters were unforgiving.

Still, he couldn’t fall back asleep, no matter how terribly badly he wanted to be not awake.

It wasn’t just that he hadn’t slept much the night before. He felt uselessly cantankerous for several reasons, most of which revolved around the emptiness of the vast, damnable house that only felt like home when the only people he loved were around.

But Sue and Ralph were on vacation somewhere warm. Scandal, Knockout, and Liana had their own home, and their own family. Bane was likely in Gotham, snapping at the Bat’s heels again, while Dead Shot was working. The last Thomas had reached out, Jeanette, Porcelain, and Ragdoll were running some grift or another. Or they were grifting each other. One of the two. Or both.

Black Alice was… somewhere, Thomas was never sure where she went when she went away, but she certainly wasn’t with him. Once, she’d tried to explain to Thomas the finer complexities of her role as a magic user in the broader web of their universe’s structure, but Thomas didn’t much care to try and understand magic users after the messy business with Etrigan and Atlantis.

It wasn’t Thomas’s place to tell his pride where they should go and what they should do.

Even if it was January, and even if January was cold and uncomfortably liminal and empty without them.

Thomas cut his losses and rolled out of bed. He couldn’t sleep, and so he’d make himself breakfast instead, and maybe find some priceless historical or magical artifact in the House of Secrets to irreparably damage for his own spiteful amusement.

Clothes irritated his skin, but he tugged on a pair of socks to acknowledge the chill. He padded across the wood floor and opened his bedroom door, closed it, and then opened it again until it led to a hallway and not a yawning chasm, as the rooms were wont to do in the House of Secrets. It only took forty-three more minutes before he found the kitchen.

Thomas liked eggs. They were tasty, they were a valuable source of protein, and they were easy to cook. Unfortunately, they were easy to cook. He needed something to occupy him a little more fully than eggs usually could, and so he compensated by cooking each egg individually. He was frying his third egg when he heard a soft scratching from the kitchen entrance. He froze and jerked his head to the sound.

There stood Strix, in a pair of overalls. She held a notepad, which read:

‘I WANT EGGS 2’

Despite the frigid house, Thomas cracked a smile.

“Sure thing, Strix. How long have you been here? I didn’t hear you come in.”

Strix returned to her notepad. When she held it up again, it read: ‘BIG HOUSE. GOT LOST.’

Thomas nodded sagely. “It’s tricky. You get used to it though.” He glanced around himself, at the high rafters and ambiguously dated kitchen appliances. “Sort of. Never mind. Grab a seat. How do you want your eggs?”

Strix cocked her head, and Thomas huffed.

“I don’t only make scrambled eggs. I can cook them in other ways too. Fried. Basted, probably.”

Strix smiled and climbed up onto the counter next to the stove. She perched there, glanced at the pile of fried eggs Thomas had already prepared, and pointed.

“Fried it is,” Thomas said. “Good choice.”

Thomas felt warm, with Strix there. He stood over the stove and chatted with her, updating her on things while she scrawled her responses and offered her own goings on. He made more eggs than either of them could eat, because he worried that when she finished eating, she’d leave again.

He was on the last egg in the kitchen when there was a shriek.

“Oh, my god,” Liana shouted while Knockout and Scandal burst into laughter from the kitchen’s threshold. “You’re naked! Why are you naked?”

“It’s my house!” Thomas retorted defensively, although he couldn’t help his smile. He’d thought they’d be home, with their newborn baby of only three months. They looked great, for all that Thomas heard about parenthood. They looked wonderful, even. 

“Oh, it’s your house now,” Scandal snorted. “Hey, there, Blake. Strix, he’s feeding you something better than just eggs, right?”

Strix, looking terribly indignant on behalf of Thomas, wrote, ‘I ASKED 4 EGGS!’

“I stand corrected,” Scandal said. “Maybe there isn’t anything better than Thomas Blake’s eggs.”

“Is there anything to eat other than eggs?” Knockout asked, breezing past Thomas and Strix to sling the door open. Thomas scratched the back of his head as she appraised the shelves, empty but for a single takeout box from three weeks prior, a bottle of horseradish, and an unidentifiable, sticky substance smeared on the shelf.

Knockout rolled her eyes, but she was grinning stupidly enough that Thomas knew she’d missed him too.

And then she touched the sticky substance, and Thomas, Liana, and Scandal shouted, “No!” in unison.

“I’m only trying to identify it!” Knockout insisted, while Liana scrambled over the kitchen island to snatch her wrist from the offending goop. There wasn’t a reality where Liana should have been able to make a former Female Fury do anything, but such was the peculiar power of love, Thomas supposed, as Liana dragged Knockout to the sink to wash her hand.

Scandal nudged Thomas with her shoulder. “We haven’t heard from you in a few weeks. Or you,” she looked pointedly at Strix who shrugged sheepishly.

‘BIZZY,’ Strix wrote.

“I didn’t want to bother you,” Thomas muttered, as he shoved the burning egg around in the pan. “How’s the baby?”

Scandal rolled her eyes. “You’re not a bother. I’d be lost without you to occasionally punch around. And our kitten’s doing well; Bane’s got her for the weekend, in Santa Prisca.”

Thomas whistled. “That’s a big step. It’s got to be the first time you’ve been away from her since she was born, right?”

Scandal bit her lip and nodded. “We want them to have a relationship, and of course I trust him with her. But I got a little anxious, so my loves thought it would be a good time to be close with family while I work on letting go a little.”  

Warmth blossomed in Thomas’s chest. He decided it was heartburn. 

Thomas turned off the stove and made a face at Scandal. “Nah, don’t do that. I don’t think I’d like you as much if you learned to relax. Yeah, I think I’d hate you, actually. But I’m happy to keep you company, as long as you promise to stay full of piss and vinegar.” 

“For you?” Scandal mused. “Always.” 

He took out a few more plates and began divvying up the mountain of his and Strix’s eggs. At Liana’s insistence, they moved to the parlor, each clutching a plate of eggs. Or they tried to move to the parlor, given the mutable nature of the House. It took a few attempts at a few different doors, but when they finally found the room, the fireplace was already crackling with heat and Jeanette and Kani were lounging on the chaise.

“Well, it certainly took you long enough, darlings,” Kani purred, and Thomas felt her familiar gaze like a favorite blanket as she playfully glanced at him up and down. “Thomas, have you gotten prettier since I last saw you?”

“Yes,” Thomas said definitively, glancing behind him, towards the kitchen, as he realized they didn’t have enough plates for everyone.  

“Settle, Thomas. I’m sure we’ll be gifted by your culinary prowess later, but it’s not important for now. Come, have some cheese,” Jeanette said, gesturing to a characteristically pretentious charcuterie board she must have arranged on the table between the chaise and the fireplace.

“I mean, feel free to put some pants on first,” Liana said, breezing by him to flop onto an overstuffed loveseat across from Kani and Jeanette. She plucked a piece of egg from her plate and tossed it in her mouth.

“And deprive us the view?” Kani winked. Thomas rolled his eyes with a grin he couldn’t quite repress and grabbed a throw blanket to toss around his waist.

Strix glanced about, a touch nervously, at the cozy but cramped interior of the room. Knockout noticed and left her plate with Scandal before collecting a small mountain of volumes of what must have been priceless books from a shelf set into the wall. Then, she dragged a chair over by the room’s window. She stacked the books beneath each leg of the chair, until the chair towered high enough that Strix perked up in delight. Strix scrambled up the makeshift perch and settled into it happily.

‘THANK U,’ Strix wrote.

“Of course, little owl,” Knockout replied, before finding her place on the love seat, with Scandal and Liana. 

Thomas sunk into the chaise at Kani and Jeanette’s insistence, and almost immediately Jeanette was tsk’ing and fussing over his hair while Kani launched into stories from the con she and Jeanette had just finished pulling over Ragdoll. 

Thomas relished that there, in that moment, within that early morning, the House of Secrets felt like home.

[quicksilversquared]

Move to Safety: Chapter 3 (of 6)

After Adrien just happens to spy Nooroo in his father’s office, he’s sent into an panic. His father is Hawkmoth, which means that Adrien is in serious danger.

Thankfully the Dupain-Chengs are more than willing to step up to the plate and lend a helping hand.

links in the reblog

Adrien was truly beating himself up when, for the second akuma battle in a row, he choked up on his words before he could tell Ladybug about his father.

"It's not like I'm scared of Ladybug," Adrien complained to Plagg as he headed to the Dupain-Cheng house to hang out with Marinette. "Because I'm not! And my father deserves to be arrested, I'm not trying to protect him. But..."

"It's okay to be nervous about change," Plagg said, uncharacteristically serious. "Which I think might be your problem. Even if you don't like the status quo-"

"-the unknown can be scary," Marinette told Adrien five minutes later, after Adrien had expressed the same concerns to her. Her reassurances echoed Plagg's almost word-for-word, which was funny but also, admittedly, pretty reassuring. "Even if you know that all of us will be there for you."

"I just feel bad about allowing the akuma attacks to continue when we could be ending them," Adrien admitted, fussing with a corner of the pillow before catching himself and smoothing it back out. Not that he thought that anyone would care, really- after all, the two of them were hanging out in his room and if the bed was less than perfect, it didn't matter- but even though he trusted Marinette (and clearly Plagg trusted her too, if the number of times he spotted the two of them talking was any indication), he didn't want to seem like an anxious wreck in front of her.

He was one of the city's two main superheroes. He couldn't let himself be an anxious wreck.

"They've been pretty slow this week," Marinette commented, shuffling a little to get more comfortable on the bed. "Because your father is busy, right? I mean, we've only had two this week, and neither of them were a particularly long fight."

"Yeah, it's the usual summer line launch. It keeps him busy this last week and next." Adrien flashed a smile at her. "Helpful, really, since we have exams."

Marinette nodded in agreement.

"He'll probably not have time to do any more akumatizations before he leaves, at this rate," Adrien commented, glancing at the calendar. "So I guess I shouldn't feel too bad about the attacks. But I still do. And if there aren't attacks, then I don't know how I'll reach Ladybug- she's going to be just as busy as we are, studying for exams."

"You could talk to Ladybug at the mural dedication this weekend," Marinette pointed out, and grinned when Adrien whipped around to stare at her in surprise. He had forgotten about that, honestly, what with everything else going on. "Best friends with the Ladyblogger, remember? She's been talking my ear off about it."

"You are an actual lifesaver. I would have forgotten about that, what with everything else that's been going on." Adrien let out a breath, trying to settle the nerves that had sprung up with the idea of having a set date for telling Ladybug. It made everything more real. "I'll tell her then."

Marinette scooted closer to him, reaching out and taking one of his hands in hers. "We'll be here for you, you know that. And you'll be staying with us this weekend, too."

"Right." Adrien smiled over at her, so thankful that he had Marinette and her family right now. He would be a mess without them and their unquestioning support. "Thank goodness."

She smiled back, then glanced down at the bed for a moment. Adrien followed her gaze, wondering if he had messed up the sheets somehow- how, he had no idea, but maybe the older fabric had torn and he hadn't noticed?- when she spoke up again.

"Is it too warm for the blanket down here already?"

Adrien blinked at the sudden change of subject before answering. "Oh. Yeah, a bit, so I took it off the bed."

"I usually keep all of mine still on my bed in a big nest, but I suppose that's a personal preference," Marinette said with a giggle. "I have a ton of blankets and pillows now and just drape myself over all of them. Which you've probably seen before when you leave in the morning."

Adrien had tried not to look at the still-sleeping Marinette when he left in the mornings via her trapdoor, actually, because it just seemed intrusive, but the whole idea of a blanket nest sounded really nice. If Adrien tried it at the mansion, though, things would have tumbled off the edge of his bed. It would happen here, too, actually, because the bed wasn't up against a wall. "I'd normally keep the blanket, but, well..." He shot a sheepish look in her direction. "It's just...I could tell that the blanket had been in the closet for a while, if that makes sense? It wasn't an awful smell, just... a lot."

Marinette's expression lit up in understanding. "Ah! Okay, I know what you're talking about. We have cedar balls in the closet to make sure that we don't get bugs in our linens. It's a nice scent, in my opinion, but I can see where it would get overwhelming."

Adrien nodded. "That's a good description. And since it's warm enough, I just put it back in the closet so that the sheets wouldn't pick up the scent. Well, more than they already have."

"We can wash them!" Marinette said at once, hopping up. "And the blanket too, if you want, but it'll have to be a separate load."

"Mm. I think I'll pass. I'm not going to freeze." Adrien slid off the bed, helping Marinette pull the sheets off. Once they had gotten everything, he took the larger half of the pile of linens from her- there was no point in Marinette trying to struggle down the stairs when she couldn't see, after all- and followed her down to the laundry room. "You're gonna have to tell me what to do here, I've never done laundry before."

"And we don't want you to flood the laundry room," Marinette finished, grinning at Adrien's alarmed look. "It's not that likely, stop looking so scared. You just have to make sure that you don't put in way too much soap. See, all you really need is just a little bit."

Adrien pouted at her, trying not to smile as he did. "You just said that to freak me out!"

The smile that Marinette was clearly trying to hide told Adrien that that had totally been her intention. He pouted at her some more, then scooted over to her side to watch as Marinette showed him how to adjust the settings, explaining each one as they went. It wasn't overly simplified- Marinette knew that while he was unfamiliar with the machines and with paying attention to washing labels on clothing, he wasn't dumb and he picked up on stuff fast- or too detailed as to be confusing, and soon enough Adrien felt confident that he could probably put laundry through without ruining stuff.

Probably. Marinette had promised to help him with his first few loads of laundry once he was no longer at the mansion just in case, because his designer clothes might have some different washing instructions and he didn't want to destroy things right away.

"That blanket didn't fit your bed very well anyway," Marinette said as they got the load started and water started pouring into the machine. She hopped up on top of the dryer, settling down. "I was thinking of making a quilt for your birthday, and I'll try to get it done earlier than that, so you can have it on your bed- unless you have a blanket at the mansion that you want instead!" Marinette added immediately, her words all of a sudden rushing together. "I don't want to assume, I don't know if you have any blankets that you're attached to, or-"

"I would love a quilt," Adrien said at once, unable to help the way his voice went all breathy at the idea. He loved all of the gifts that Marinette had made for him- and yes, that included his favorite scarf, which he had discovered was a Marinette gift after he overheard a conversation between her and Alya- and a quilt?

He had had a moment of wondering why Marinette would think that he had an attachment to any of his blankets at home when she first asked- why anyone would have an attachment to a blanket- but with as soon as he thought about what Marinette had said about a quilt and- well, he could already he can see how an attachment could form. If Marinette did make him a quilt, he would probably keep it forever. Even if he ended up with a larger bed later on, one that the quilt didn't fit on... well, Adrien would either try to keep it on the bed regardless, or he would keep it on a couch to curl up with on cool evenings.

All of the blankets that he had at the mansion were typical department store ones (or mail-order catalogue ones, he really didn't know- but either way, they were plain and had no meaning to them) that either Nathalie or the interior designer had picked out to go with the rest of his room. They weren't anything special, even if he had had them for a while.

Marinette was smiling, clearly relieved that she hadn't somehow overstepped. "Oh, good. Do you want to look at patterns? I've been bookmarking some things and if it's not a surprise, then you might as well have some input."

"Oh, sure!"

Adrien followed Marinette back upstairs eagerly, a bounce in his steps. He had seen quilts before, of course, and they were so pretty. And so much work, too, so Adrien kind of couldn't believe that Marinette had been planning on taking so much time just for a birthday gift for him.

Not that jackets and bags and dresses- all things that she had made for her friends before- were exactly quick things to make! But quilts...

There were lots of little pieces, for one. The cutting and sewing together probably took forever, even for someone as talented as Marinette. And then there was the actual quilting part.

While his current bed was a full size- larger than a twin, not quite as large as a queen or king- well, that was a still a lot of fabric to cover.

While the sheets went through the wash and then the dryer, the two of them looked over Marinette's folder of quilt patterns. There were a lot of ideas, and it was pretty overwhelming at first, seeing all of the patterns, but, well...

There were some patterns that just called to Adrien more, and they narrowed it down to three of his favorites. By the time the sheets came out of the dryer and it was time to wrestle them back onto the bed, he had managed to select a favorite.

He was really looking forward to the quilt now.

"Want to come along with me to the fabric store and help pick out fabrics?" Marinette asked once the sheets were back on the bed and she had written up a list of how much fabric she needed. "Quilting fabric is so much fun to pick through. All of the patterns to choose from... all of the colors..."

Adrien grinned at her. Marinette had clearly already entered what he had previously dubbed the Fabric Haze. She had a sewing project in mind, and now she was entirely focused on it. "Shouldn't we be studying? I mean, I know we have most of the weekend for that, but with the mural dedication that I have to go to, that'll take some study time, and if you have fabric, uh..."

Marinette puffed up at him. "Are you saying that I'll get distracted? I can behave with fabric in the house! I wouldn't start to sew until after exams are over."

"Mm-hmm." Adrien snickered some more, then calmed down. "How about we save the fabric errand for after the dedication? I know it's a bit more time then not spent studying, but it might be nice to have something to look forward to for after I tell Ladybug about...you know."

"That makes sense." Marinette glanced longingly towards her computer, where their chosen design was pulled up on-screen. She startled and looked away right away when Adrien snickered again. "So, uh, studying?"

"Studying," Adrien agreed, following Marinette to her desk. In all honesty, they probably should have started sooner instead of spending so much time on the quilt, but he wasn't going to complain. Not at all.

Not when Marinette was doing her best to make him feel at home.

  The mural dedication on Saturday morning was boring, to say the least.

It hadn't always felt like a snoozefest to do these sorts of things, Chat Noir reflected as he stood next to Ladybug, both of them standing a little bit behind and off to the side of the mayor as he talked. When their statues went up- well, that had been cool. But the two of them kept getting invited to dedications (some superhero-themed, others not) and now, several years into their superhero careers, the formalities had become stuffy. Journalists were welcomed, the two of them got name-dropped, there were thank-yous to sponsors and builders or artists or whoever was involved, and then some background on the project and why it was done and-

Well, Chat Noir was usually well and truly tuned out by that point.

He felt a little bad about that, sometimes. In cases like this, where it was obvious than an artist had worked super-hard at bringing their vision to life, it probably would have been nice to listen to how the superheroes had apparently deeply inspired them and the thought process behind the symbolism in the painting. But he was even more distracted than usual today, and so the symbolism that the painter had used in the painting was going straight over his head, the explanation going in one ear and out the other.

And then after the speeches, there was mingling.

"I told the mayor that we couldn't linger long," Ladybug murmured in Chat Noir's ear as the crowd in front of them started to shift, signaling an end to the speeches that he had somehow missed. "That we have other obligations today, so we can only talk for a few minutes before we leave."

"Yay exams." Chat Noir glanced around, wincing when he spotted reporters pushing through the crowd to get to them quickly. Presumably the mayor had made a comment about the superheroes not being available for long, or else they wouldn't be in such a hurry to reach the two of them. Their presence was going to make it hard for him to tell Ladybug about his father, and he had promised himself that he was going to do it today.

"Ladybug! Chat Noir! A couple minutes of your time?"

"A couple minutes is all we have to spare, unfortunately," Ladybug said smoothly, turning to them. "But we can answer a couple questions before we go."

Madam Chamack dove in first. "We're glad that the two of you could make it, but are we ever going to see the other members of your team at any of these events? This dedication in particular, it seems, it might have been prudent..."

"We appreciate that our part-time teammates both past and present are being honored in the mural, but they only come out for emergencies," Ladybug told the cameras. "It doesn't seem like a great idea to have so many Miraculous out and in one area unless it's strictly necessary."

"It would be too risky," Chat Noir agreed, glad to be playing backup. Ladybug had honestly become better than he had at answering questions without hesitation, and so he let her take the lead. "But yes, it's nice seeing more than just the core two of us being represented. We couldn't do it without our entire expanded team waiting in the wings to lend a helping hand."

Even once Hawkmoth was gone, it would be too risky, in his opinion. There would always be people out there who wanted to steal the Miraculous and use the powers for their own gain, and if there were more targets out... well, then that would just make things easier. And if he thought it was dangerous, then Ladybug would definitely never consider having unnecessary Miraculous out. She was even more cautious than he was.

"There's been a decrease in akumas over the past couple weeks- thoughts on that?"

"Presumably Hawkmoth has a life outside of supervillainry, since that wouldn't pay the bills," Ladybug offered, flashing a small smile at them. She got some chuckles at that. "He may be busy. There have always been times when things slow down or speed up, and it's probably not worth reading into short-term trends too much."

Chat Noir nodded, though he didn't add anything to that.

"Instead, we should be thankful for the slower period- I know I am!- and focus on making sure that we're kind to others and not getting needlessly upset over small things," Ladybug added. It had become a fairly standard plea for them over the years, though how much it actually helped, it was hard to say. Some people, like most of his classmates, certainly tried to be kind and not overreact, but others, like Chloe and her mom and the Mayor...

Well, they certainly caused more than their fair share of akumas, that was for sure. There was usually one Bourgeois-caused akuma per week, which, considering that there were three of them and hundreds- or thousands, rather- of other people in Hawkmoth's favored portion of Paris, was ridiculous.

(Or, to borrow Chloe's favorite phrase- ridiculous! Absolutely ridiculous!)

Ladybug fielded a couple more questions, then gently started to extract them from the press. All of a sudden, Chat Noir started panicking.

He couldn't let this opportunity slip by without talking to Ladybug, not again. But once they left, they would go their opposite ways right away and he wouldn't be able to tell her anything.

"Ladybug, I have to talk to you before we leave," Chat Noir murmured, ducking his head to talk directly in her ear as Ladybug smiled at the reporters for a photo. "Do- do you have a couple minutes to spare for me?"

"Of course," Ladybug murmured right away, glancing up at him. "Is there something in particular...?"

Chat Noir swallowed. It was now or- well, not never, but maybe his only chance for the day, and he would definitely beat himself up over it if he backed out now. "I know who Hawkmoth is. He's-"

Ladybug's eyes snapped to him, then slid over his shoulder towards the still-lingering reporters as she pressed a finger to his lips briefly. "Tell me more once we get up on the rooftops? We can go over a couple blocks so that they don't see us."

That was smart. He had gotten so focused on not chickening out on telling her that he had completely blanked out on being cautious. If any of the civilians nearby overheard them so much as mention that they knew who Hawkmoth was, it would be front-page news by tomorrow, never mind the fact that giving Hawkmoth a heads-up would make the superheroes' job more difficult. And if any reporters heard...

There would be news articles posted online only minutes later.

Chat Noir nodded, waiting for Ladybug to finish answering a final couple questions before following her to the rooftops. He had to give her credit- even though she had to be shocked by the news that he knew who Hawkmoth was, she still managed to flash the reporters her usual smile and wave as they left. Once they had reached a series of rooftops several roads over, Ladybug landed and caught his hand to steady him as he landed. "So you were saying...?"

Chat Noir nodded, taking a deep breath. He had to reach deep inside himself and remember his acting lessons, focusing on not looking affected. "Hawkmoth. His- his son saw him talking to his kwami and, uh, told me. It's Gabriel Agreste."

Ladybug exhaled, long and low. "Ah."

"And Mayura- it has to be his assistant, Nathalie," Chat Noir added. "So. Uh." He fidgeted. "...I don't know where to go from here."

"Well, I think- hmm." Ladybug nibbled on her lip, clearly thoughtful. "It's not great timing, with exams coming up this week, but obviously we don't want to get called away during exams..."

She was handing him the perfect opening, honestly. "He's going to be out of the country this week, actually. Er. Apparently. According to his son."

Ladybug raised an eyebrow. "Actually out of the country or his hologram going out of the country?"

Chat Noir couldn't help but laugh. Everyone had heard about that scandal, apparently. "Actually out of the country. He got so much bad press from that that he wouldn't be able to risk it. Besides, people he meets are going out of their way to shake hands with him to make sure it's actually him."

That got a laugh out of her. "I'm sure he's thrilled about that."

"Oh, no doubt." His father had been steamed by the hologram's failure, and in such a public setting, too. And then for his business associates to be subtly reminding him of the scandal every time they met...

It really was pretty funny.

"So we can wait until after exams," Ladybug decided. "Maybe- if he's traveling, maybe we can get the drop on him when he returns? I mean, he's bound to be jet-lagged, right? And it seems like he wouldn't be expecting it."

"And his assistant takes a vacation after he gets back from his trip," Chat Noir said, remembering that important little detail all of a sudden. Nathalie didn't often take vacations, but she worked so hard on the summer launch and there was always so much company business to deal with at the same time that once everything was done, she took several days off and went out of town to visit family. "Which means no Mayura on hand to provide backup."

Ladybug lit up. "That's perfect! We can deal with one supervillain at a time. Attack Hawkmoth when he won't have Mayura nearby to transform and help, and then maybe Portal and get Mayura before the news can get to her? Then it'll be an ambush attack on both of their parts. We would just need to know where she's going to be."

"Are we going to pull in some of the others?" Chat Noir wanted to know, filing a mental note of ask Nathalie exactly where she's going for later. "If we're attacking when he isn't expecting us, maybe we won't need backup, but just in case..."

"That wouldn't be a bad idea," Ladybug agreed. "Keep them back and out of sight, but with clear instructions and a signal for if we need them to help- it's just a question of who we want."

Chat Noir nodded. "Cobra, maybe? I know he's not come out for a while, but the re-do could be good."

Ladybug worried her lip. "I would, but he's gone to university out of the city. That's a good idea to have the Snake out, though. Maybe one of us could use it. Uh- Seabiscuit? If we need help, he'd get people there fast. And Hornet, for restraint."

"If we could get Seabiscuit to open a portal directly behind Mr. Agreste and have Hornet dive through, the fight could be over before it's even started," Chat Noir pointed out. "It would just be a matter of keeping Mr. Agreste sufficiently distracted."

Ladybug lit up. "I know! We could have Vixen make a Mirage of the two of us out there, battling the akuma. He'll be focused on that, and won't be expecting any sort of attack in his lair."

"And if we Portal in from the wrong direction, we can just reset and try again," Chat Noir agreed. "That is- I'd almost call that deceptively complex, honestly. There's a decent handful of moving parts, but with any luck, it should be over pretty fast."

"We'll have to give everyone their Miraculous before Mr. Agreste gets back, because any delay after the akuma shows up will be suspicious," Ladybug said, frowning in thought. "Not ideal- can you find out when, exactly, he's going to return and when Nathalie will be leaving? We can get the Miraculous out before then, with instructions on what we want people to do and where we're going to meet up on the day of the battle. That way, we won't have to spend as much time explaining everything while the akuma is out and about."

"Yeah." Chat Noir let out a long breath, trying not to let the nerves show. It all felt more real now that they had a plan, and it- it wasn't a bad thing, really. Soon he would be able to go directly to the Dupain-Cheng house and stay there, no sneaking around required.

And he was looking forward to it. No matter what the nerves in his stomach were saying otherwise.

[sneezefiction]

different things

nishinoya x reader

a/n: honestly, i struggle with miscommunication. things really can go wrong if you dont voice your assumptions, world views, and plans for life. this fic kind of addresses that. sorry to both you and baby noya :,,(

warnings: angst, break ups

wc: 1230

inspired by: the song Different Things by Gracey and @lol-dafuq for angsty nishinoya ideas :,) thanks b

---

There was a time when summer brought giggles and sugary sweets. Where you and Nishinoya found yourself spending warm, sleepless nights counting stars and bantering about whatever stupid thing Tanaka did earlier that day. 

You would fondly reminisce over these high school summers. Noya never failing to bring a whole box of popsicles, eating most of them himself, and a large, quilted blanket to lay out on a flatter part of the roof. How his big, brown eyes light up when they meet yours and how quickly he would run up to hug you, spinning your body around in a dizzying circle. 

There was a time when you thought that summer was made for this boy. And when you thought that this boy might even be made for you.

Yes, somehow you believed you would always be apart of his adventures. That he would factor you into his future as you had done for him. That Nishinoya might see marriage… kids even with you. Sharing summer hazed, late-night conversations and firefly catching endeavors together until you were both old and gray. 

Instead, you’re sitting hunched over on your bathroom floor again. It’s a place of solitude for you. A fortress from the outside world that, even if just for a few minutes, you’ll find yourself hiding in daily. The cold tiles underfoot keep your mind from going numb, back pressed up against the side of the tub. Your leg keeps falling asleep, so you lean the pressure of your body weight onto the other knee every once in a while, but that’s about the extent of your movements.

This “hiding in the bathroom” habit probably stemmed from some silly fear you had as a child, but for now, it’s doing the trick. It’s like a bitterly cold hug, without the physical touch that seems to mock you. Nothing seems to measure up to Noya’s hugs, so you subconsciously have seemed to deprive yourself altogether.

You periodically catch yourself holding in a deep, heavy breath. It’s an attempt to lessen the emptiness that sits in the pit of your stomach. Something you’ve been battling against since the bubbly, blonde-tufted boy left you.

---

Nishinoya wasn’t one to sit still. Never one to fear the unknown. Unwilling to say no to an opportunity.

It was what you’d always admired about him. He is individualistic. Driven. Always staying unapologetically himself.

You hadn’t realized that this might also apply to your relationship.

After high school, you both chose programs at the same university. Life seemed to replicate that of your high school years. You walked the cozy campus, hand-in-hand. Coffee’s on the weekend, dancing at parties together, big squishy hugs, and late nights.

But Nishinoya wanted more. And unfortunately, he assumed you knew that he would need more than just you in his life.

Noya wasn’t prepared to settle down. Not for you. Not for anyone, really. To say that you were both on wildly different pages, would be a terrible understatement. 

So when he told you he was ready to travel the world, you accepted it with a big smile on your face, not realizing the extent of his decision.

Both you and Noya were in the final months of your senior year at university. You didn’t question his plans, since a few weeks of travel before summer seemed entirely reasonable to you, especially when it came to Nishinoya. He would want to clear his head and get his energy out before searching for a job. 

But when he showed you his travel plans, everything became all but fine.

The world as you knew it had suddenly crashed down on your head, leaving you a bleeding, empty mess.

—-

Tears and shouts of betrayal ensued. No, it wasn’t your shining moment, but Nishinoya wasn’t exactly an angel here either.

He had never seen you so hurt. Noya knew you had loved him. He knew the relationship you both shared was precious and one-of-a-kind. But he also knew he needed to go and he always believed you understood that this portion of his life was subject to change at all times. Miscommunication at its finest.

He’d lived spontaneously and openly since he was little and had no intention of changing.

The flight ticket he was holding onto explained his trip to Europe and his schedule ranged all the way into the next year. His plane would leave early May and he would not get back till June of next year. 

All without you.

His thoughtlessness had your head spinning. That he could make plans without telling you what it meant for your relationship. How he didn’t bother to ask you to join him.

You would’ve come with if he’d wanted you to go. You even asked him if he had planned on taking you.

He hadn’t.

The way he mentioned going away so casually as if you wouldn’t break down in tears at the thought of him leaving you. 

—-

The problem is, you thought you knew him. You thought he would stay for you. Really you never had any idea what he’d wanted in the first place. Clearly, he didn’t know you well either.

You did what made sense to do, defending your last shreds of dignity: You kicked him out, punched your wall, resulting in you needing someone to stitch up your drywall, and texted him hours later as bluntly as possible that the relationship needed to be over. His response was even more painful. “Okay, y/n. I’m sorry. Thanks for everything.”

Not a, “Please don’t break up with me!” Not a, “Come with me, I love you!” Nothing. He didn’t want you enough to stay. Enough to take you with him. You became dead weight. A piece of his life that he planned to retire from the beginning.

---

As time went by, you forced yourself to mull over his choice.

The one that beckoned him to leave you.

To chase after something that required you to let him go.

The choice that shattered your heart.

It was just one conversation, ending as quickly as it began, but somehow it managed to knock you off your feet for months. It ended a lifetime of inside jokes, patterns you weren’t prepared to let go of, and the most gratifying relationship you’d ever experienced.

Gravity decided to drag you to the floor whenever it could, pushing you to experience the physical agony of losing someone you thought would be permanent. The boy you had sharpied into your life. The one where you had intricately woven his and your path together in your mind.

But he just couldn’t see it. He never would.

Now it’s August. It’s been about 4 months since he’d left you. 4 months since he’d last messaged you. It’s been the loneliest, most confusing, most depressing months of your life. 

To think that years ago, you could’ve shared this perfect, cloudless day with the boy you loved. Still love somewhere deep down.

It’s getting later in the day, the small bathroom window allowing the sun to show off its golden rays and the swirling clouds, boasting hues of pink and blue. All colors you associate with Noya. 

But instead of letting the heaviness in your heart suffocate you like you usually do, you decide to pull yourself up, off of the freezing bathroom floor tile. 

You blink away the tears in your eyes.

It’s time to find someone else who reminds you of summer. Someone who will stay with you. Someone that will take you with them no matter where they go. 

And with that, you decide: It’s time to move on.

[kerwritesthings]

Here Comes The Sun

Summary: Sometimes the love we give and the love we feel drive us to do crazy things in the name of that love

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: soft and lovely and feels, however we be getting naughty my friends - smut alert! 

Author Notes: This was sketched out a totally different way in my head. I had started that way. Then we took a turn to the smutty. Oops? #sorrynotsorry

This is part 5 in my series (whose name is still TBD) – the first four parts can be found here on my masterlist. No need to read them as most can be stand alone, however it helps give a little more context to the verse I’ve created if you do.

Many thanks to @whenidance​ & @sinplisticshawn​ for being my sounding boards to my insecurities and concerns with heading this way.

It’s fascinating to you to have such an inside look at his process. You’ve seen bits and pieces before, the tail end of the work on the last album. But this time, you have the chance to see things formulate at the very beginning. He’s taking it easy this week, partially because you’re around through the weekend but he’s also still coming off the high from Sunday. Your neck and his collarbone bearing the marks to prove it, aside from the few new pieces of hardware sitting on the piano downstairs that confirm it.

His room at the beach house has a massive window seat tucked into a wide bay window that faces out over the hill and down to the water. When he’s not been with you or in the studio, you find him tucked into the cushions, guitar strewn across his lap and journal balancing precariously on one knee.

It’s exactly how and where he is Wednesday morning when you finally wake up, missing the rumble from his chest behind you. “I should have known,” you say, half caught in your throat as you stretch. You look over at the clock on the bedside table and realize it’s earlier than you thought.

“I didn’t wake you up did I?” he asks, finishing a scribble on the paper before looking up at you fondly. “Something just hit me, and I wanted to get it down before I forgot. I was going to come wake you in a few when I was done. I do believe you and I have somewhere to be today.”

“Beach day,” you sigh happily. “Me and you and the sun and a cooler full of strawberry limeade and warmth and sand and did I mention the sun?”

He laughs brightly, “Should I leave you and the sun alone?”

“Perhaps Shawn, perhaps,” you smirk before bounding out of bed, his laugh bigger than before.

The weather is perfect that day, and the fact that the house has private beach access makes it even better. The two of you can truly relax and let go without worry. It’s been a while since you’ve been able to completely disconnect like this, even just for a few hours. You are both looking forward to it.

Making your way down the path hand in hand, beach bag slung on your shoulder and a cooler in your free hand, two chairs in his other, you can’t help but smile wider as the sound of the waves gets closer. “You lucked out finding this place,” you say. “Killer set up, the house and a private beach? I’m shocked it’s not more well talked about.”

“It’s not that old, plus I think the guys who own it are super selective. Don’t blame them. I really like the vibe here; it feels right and super comfortable, plus I like being a little out of the way. I’m already trying to talk my way into another block over the summer, especially when I know I can steal you away again. There’s still more places in that house I need to have my way with you in, like that gigantic outdoor rainfall shower,” he grins wickedly as your feet hit the softer sand.  

You bump your hip against his and pull your hand back, “You’re incorrigible. Now, come on, I don’t want to waste any of this precious sunshine.”

You quickly dump all your belongings down to the sand setting up your little encampment for the day, far enough from the water to not get soaked by an errant wave, but still close enough to enjoy the views.

“I like this,” he says catching your hips in his hands before you go to lay on the blanket spread in front of your chairs, fingers dancing over the raised subtle pattern of your bathing suit while he mouths at your neck. You fight back the moan bubbling in your throat, leaning more against him instead. The deep berry tankini was definitely a little different than what you’ve worn before and you’re not too surprised he took notice.

“I don’t remember seeing you wear it. You look good in it. Really good. But remember, it’s a private beach,” he whispers as he nibbles at your ear, his hands skating up your sides. “I think it may look better tossed over the arm of my beach chair.”

“Shawn,” you whine, winding a hand back into his hair to tug at his unruly curls. “Don’t tempt me, honey.”

“But I want to tempt you,” he skirts his hands over your breasts, one hand cupping your left, while his fingers carefully trace the flesh peeking out above the hem of your suit on the right. “I want to have you right here on this beach. I want to make you come, baby. I’ve thought about it so many times since I got here and saw how secluded this sand is. We can finally do what we couldn’t in Mexico.”

Your mind flashes back to the moonlit walk on the beach in December, the wandering hands, his hot lips tracing over your shoulder, your mouth worrying a spot on his chest over his heart. You both wanted that memory, that moment of just more, but there was too much risk. As it was, you were pushing the boundaries on a beach where you could be discovered at any moment.

He slips his left hand down to your hip, pulling you flush against him. You’re bombarded by sensations; his bare chest against your back, his breath puffing more against your ear, and he’s impossibly hard against the soft swell of your ass. He dips his right index finger to tease and track across your nipple.

“Damnit Shawn,” you moan, pressing back against him. “You’re making it really hard to say no to you.”

“That’s the point,” he whispers, shifting his lips down your neck and across your shoulder, licking and biting his way over your skin. “It should be yes Shawn yes. Loudly. In that throaty voice of yours you get when you’re so turned on. While I’m inside you. Please baby.”

What little resolve you have left is fading and fast. He’s grinding against you now, slowly and methodically while his left hands trails from your hip across your stomach, his pinkie and ring finger sneaking under the waistband just to keep his hand against you. You know the risk is as minimal as it can be, but there’s always a chance. The last thing either of you need or want are pictures of a tryst leaked out. But the fucks you normally give are wearing down to nil.

“Fuck,” you bite out, squirming from the stimulation he’s providing and your eyes fluttering shut. The hand still threading around his curls grips tighter, making him groan against you.

“Let me make you feel good. Want you to fall apart on my tongue and fingers first, then slide into you to feel you come around me,” he sighs out, pulling you against him tighter, rutting into you harder.

Something breaks, snaps quickly like a rubber band, and you turn in his grasp. You loop your hands around his neck and surge up on your toes to sip from his lips.

“It’s so damn hard to say no to you, especially when you’re this wound up and so damn convincing. But, there’s too much sand for some of that, as much as I really want to come all over your mouth,” you mutter between gasps and the biting kisses that are progressively getting wetter. “Compromise? Fuck me, make me come on our blanket. Then I’ll make you come, riding you nice and slow on your beach chair, Shawn.”

“God yes, baby, yes,” he breathes out harshly against your cheek. His lips then start wandering down your jaw while pushing you back towards the sun-warmed cotton and his hands slide over you to take a firm grasp on your hips. Next thing you know he’s shifting you up, moving your legs to sling around his waist to tilt you gently down onto the old patchwork quilt. He eases down onto you, slotting one of his legs between yours and leaning on his forearms, just putting the right amount of his weight against you.

“I’m going to take my time with you,” he says into the soft skin of your neck, his tongue doing wicked things against your pulse point. “Going to take advantage of laying you out in this sunshine you love so much, show you exactly how much I love you, how much I adore you, exactly why I love making love with you.”

Your hands wander across his back and down over his ass, but then you grasp onto one of his biceps and his shoulder as he sucks down hard. You hiss out an exhale, your right leg coming up to hook against his hip as your hips tilt into him. He soothes the spot ever so lightly with just the tip of his tongue. He’s just started and he’s already making you lightheaded.

“I want to hear you, don’t hold back,” he asks, tracing a haphazard pattern across your neck down to your collarbone. He noses at each of the straps on your shoulders, sliding them down until they fall loose around your elbows. He slides his hands down your arms, lifting yours through the loops and then drops them into his hair. Your fingers find purchase around the swirls of his dark curls.

“Need to spend a little quality time here,” he purrs, his fingers pushing your top down to free your breasts. His mouth is wicked, you know this firsthand, and he’s proving it again. He alternates between lapping at you, sucking at your nipple and nibbling, lightly biting at the pebbled flesh while his pointer finger flicks over the other he’s not latched onto. You lose track of how much time his face is nestled there, and you can’t help but let out a chain of needy mewls and gasps. You crave more friction. You want nothing more to grind more against him, your hips start bucking against him. He knows he could make you come just from this, but you don’t want to come that way. Not today.

You tug at his curls to try to pull his mouth away, whimpering his name loudly, “Shawn, please, baby.”

His lips leave your nipple with a loud pop, shiny and red. He grins cheekily at you, chin propping up on your sternum while his fingers start their way down to the ties on your suit. “I’m not nearly done with you yet, dear. Need to make sure you’re nice and wound up, oh so wet for me,” he explains, nosing at the underside of your breast, while his hands make quick work of your top, then moves his attention the bows at your side.

“Damnit Shawn,” you keen out as he yanks the bottoms from you tossing both piece of your suit over to land on the seat of your chair, his hands kneading at your ass. He shifts himself down the blanket while he licks his way down your stomach, taking his time to leave marks along the way, ones that will last for a few days. But of course, because it’s him, he adds in blowing a raspberry or two on the way to make you giggle. He nudges your legs open, his head leaning up against your left thigh. You lean up onto your elbows to look down at him. He just looks at you for a few moments, eyes wide and dark, his fingers twitching against your flesh.

“Oh sweetheart,” he murmurs, his right index finger brushing ever so gently over your clit, then down to your entrance. “I know you said there’s too much sand, but I’m sorry, I might just need to take a tiny little taste. You’re so wet for me. God, that’s so hot.”

He draws his index finger into his mouth, sucking at the pad carefully, eyes wide open and locked onto yours. You squirm, partly from being turned on, partly from the look on his face. He gives you no warning, his lips going immediately for your clit with abandon. He’s overwhelming you, not expecting his mouth on you, alternating between kitten licks, sucking and teasing you with the tip of his tongue. You gasp, crying out his name loudly, your hands flying back into his hair. You’re not sure if you want to pull him away and off you or push him in closer.

“Shawn baby, please,” you choke out, breath catching. “I want to come around you, I need you inside me. No more teasing. I want you, need you.”

He looks up, a devilish grin across his face and is mouth is slick with you, “I love hearing you all breathy and fucked out for me.” He quickly wipes his mouth hastily with the back of his hand before leaning down for a bruising kiss. With him slightly preoccupied in trying to untie his shorts, you lean up and it’s your turn to catch him by surprise, knocking him onto his back.

“Change of plans, I’m riding you here and now,” you husk out, hovering over his knees making quick work of the knot he was struggling with, sliding his swimsuit off. If you weren’t so worked up, you’d make him squirm like he did to you, work him up with your hands and then your mouth. Right now, though, you want to fuck him. Badly.

Once you’ve tossed his suit aside, you go to reach for him. However, he’s got his right hand wrapped around his hard cock, stroking over it loosely and slowly. “C’mere baby,” he rasps out, half smile quirking his lips.  

You’re mesmerized for a moment, watching him. It’s unfairly gorgeous, he’s gorgeous. You push his hand away gently, tracing a finger over his tattoo as you move, lining up your hips to his. Instead of sinking down onto him right away, you taunt him a bit, sliding the head of his dick through your wetness, nudging the head against your clit a few times. You can’t help but throw your head back and whine. His hands fly to your waist, pulling you down onto him as he grinds up against you with a deep groan.

“Can I slip inside you honey?” he bites out, pupils blown so you only see a small ring of golden around them as he pulls you down against him again. “Let me fuck you now baby, let me make you come. You know you want to.”

You nod, biting your lip, stretching up to your knees. He brushes your hand away, holding himself up so you can sink down. But not before teasing you one more time, flicking at your clit a few more times, first with his thumb before the head of his cock again.

“Shit Shawn,” you sigh out deeply as you slide down slowly, taking your time to feel, to enjoy the stretch and fullness. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

He grasps onto you easily, letting you be in control of the speed, but you can see the clench in his jaw as you finally bottom out on him. “There you go sweetheart, you feel so good. Tight and warm around me,” he says through an exhale.

You can’t move yet, despite the amount of times you’ve enjoyed each other lately, it still takes you a moment or two to get used to him, especially when you’re on top. Even more so when he gets all mouthy like he is today. He twitches ever so slightly and slips just a bit deeper. It sends you reeling, whimpering and your head lolls back while you brace your hands on his chest.

“I should say I’m sorry but I’m not, not when you look that beautiful above me, blissed out,” his eyes soft, hands drawing loops across the tops of your thighs. “Whenever you’re ready.”

You start easily, a light rock, a swivel and circle of your hips. Your fingers flicking at his nipples. His eyes close, only for a moment though, his lips part as he takes a deep breath. Increasing the speed of the grinding, consciously clenching around him while still buried deep inside you, it makes him grip your knees tighter, his knuckles turning white.

“If I can’t hold back, you can’t either,” you fight out, watching him bite his lip, eyes still locked onto you. “I want to hear those delicious sounds from you, Shawn.” You slide up off his cock slowly, then slip back down quickly. It earns you a growl. Both slow on the up and down, a sigh with a head loll to the side. Quickly up and a slow way down, a hiss through his teeth.

After a few passes at each, you try to keep him growling, making faster passes, you bounce quicker on him. He braces his feet up, hands shifting to squeeze your hips and he starts meeting you for each thrust. He leans up, lapping and sucking at your breasts again. You can feel the build up at the pit of your stomach. You chase it, moving faster, grinding your hips on the down for stimulation on your clit.

“Baby, shit. I’m getting close, can you, touch me please. Make me come, I want to come, I want to come for you,” you babble out, so near blissing out completely.

He takes hold and surprises you this time, flipping you onto your back without sliding out. He pushes deeper, hitching your left thigh up over his hip and leaning your calf up against his arm. Your eyes start to flutter closed, overwhelmed. “Let me see those pretty eyes of yours. I want to see you when you fall apart and fall over the edge, when you come all over my cock,” he pleads, hips snapping into you.

His hand slips between the two of you, thumb making the up and over loop that he knows drives you over the edge. “Come on baby, just let go. Come for me,” he leans down, whispering into your ear before biting at the lobe.

That sparks everything. You lock eyes with him and cry out, arching your back. Your hands dig into his biceps as you shake, clenching around his dick. It overtakes you like a warm wave. He coaxes you through it, slowing and easing as you come down, nuzzling your neck.

“Damn,” you say, somewhere between a sigh and a whimper, hands making their way up to the nape of his neck. “Holy shit baby.” He’s still shallowly shifts his hips against you. Trying to respect how sensitive you are after you orgasm, but still being wound up himself.

“Your turn, I know how badly you want to come too,” you mutter into his cheek, twirling the damp curls at the base of his head. “I’m ok, take what you need honey, I can’t wait to feel you come inside me.”

“Fuck,” he bites into your shoulder as he speeds up, strokes getting deeper and faster. He hitches your leg up again, this time up over his shoulder. “You felt so good coming around my dick, baby. I’m not far off, you have me close.”

You skate your right hand down his ribs, grabbing a handful of his ass pushing him closer and he fights back a growl. “No holding back, sweetie. Feel it all. Just come. Let me feel you coming deep inside me. I know you want to.”

A few more stuttered thrusts and he’s grinding his hips as he tips his head, groaning your name deep and loud as he comes. He eases your leg down and leans fully down onto you, his head finding that spot he loves so much where your neck and shoulder meet. You feel his warm breath coming back down to normal, while your fingertips map the muscles of his shoulders and back.

“This was so much better than I even imagined,” he sighs happily, dusting kisses across your collarbone before leaning up onto his forearms to look at you. His smile is easy and soft, content and relaxed. He tucks a stray strand of hair up behind your ear. “I am so lucky to have you, in general, but then to have you like this? That you let me love you this way? I’m grateful. I love you; I love you more than I think I can say. Words aren’t enough. This isn’t even enough. You’re all encompassing. You’re everything you know?”

You get misty and can’t help but lean up to kiss him sweetly.

“Sex so good my little songwriting rockstar is speechless?” you tease with a giggle.

He starts to tickle you, “I’m trying to be sweet and loving here and you have to go be a smart ass.”

“But I’m your smart ass, the smart ass who knows exactly how you’re feeling. The one who loves you just as much. The one who doesn’t want to have anyone else other than you,” you say, cupping his cheek. “I love you Shawn, so much that it’s scary and exciting at the same time. I don’t want to know what it’s like not to love you.”

He turns to kiss your palm before leaning down to kiss you ever so gently, “Come on, let’s go take a dip. Don’t even think about putting that suit on yet. I have more plans for you. I promised my girl a day in the sun and I’m not letting her down.”

TAG LIST: @whenidance​, @justinndavis​, @sinplisticshawn​, @hollandraul​, @fallinallincurls​, @itrocksmysocks​, @rainbowshawn​, @lasingphomustra​, @illumecherry​

[junie-bugg]

Prospects and Propriety - Chapter Two

Summary: Everlark Jane Austen AU

Katniss Everdeen and her younger sister Prim are the adopted daughters of Mr. Haymitch Abernathy, a wealthy man with no biological heirs. By the rules of Panem society, an older sibling must be married before the younger can wed. In a time when women have no means of making their own living, marriage is the only way for Katniss to save her sister from destitution and set her up for a happy marriage of her own. Katniss sets her sights on Mr. Gale Hawthorne, a wealthy man who just moved to Whitley and who seems to have his eye on her. But what of the poor baker’s boy who once took a beating to save her life?

Read here on Tumblr or on my AO3 account: izzacrosswriting

Warning: I do plan on this series getting a lil smutty. There will be graphic depictions of violence, sex, and possibly death. I’m still working everything out:)

Nature ambiance(s):

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UZ9uyQI3pF0&t=1694s

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hUjUhZ1Yy7Y

Music:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hQbx-OkfN-M

(If you want to listen to this song on Spotify it's called Symphony No.5 in C Sharp Minor: 4. Adagietto (Sehr Iangsam))

Word Count: 3125

Chapter Two

Prim and I have the next day off of lessons. We’ve been homeschooled ever since we came to live with Haymitch, but the weekends are saved purely for whatever we see fit to fill them with. For me, that’s mostly hunting and being out in the woods, unless the weather is bad, and sometimes not even then. 

If I decide to stay at home I usually lounge around with a book and see what Prim is up to. It’s mostly knitting, dress-up, or playing with the ugly cat Haymitch let her keep a few years back. Prim named him Buttercup, claiming that his matted, ruddy coat matched the bright yellow of the flowers she so adored. I had wanted to drown the thing in a bucket when we caught him stealing scraps from the kitchen, but Haymitch had laughed, even picked the thing up by the scruff of his neck and shook him around. 

“Look at this little guy, sweetheart. He’s a survivor. We can’t kill him!” He had placed the dirty, mewling kitten into Prim’s arms and the thing had hissed at me. I was worried he’d give Prim some kind of disease but he never did. I don’t feel gratitude towards him though. Only suspicion. It could still happen. 

When I want to be alone I go to my greenhouse. Really it’s Prim’s and my greenhouse, but ever since she found maggots in the compost pile nearly two years ago, she hasn’t stepped foot in there.  The greenhouse is small, maybe a third the size of my bedroom, but it’s peaceful. Especially when it storms and I can hear every hollow beat of the raindrops on its glass roof. It’s situated on the edge of the grounds by the tree line that morphs into the large forested hill behind Victor Greene, Haymitch’s estate. Over the years I’ve planted herbs and flowers and medicinal plants I’ve found on my journeys into the woods. The plants do well here in the rows of dark soil I’ve fortified with compost and fertilizer. The whole place smells of earthy rot and there’s something about how sunlight scatters lazily through the frosted windows that calms me. There’s a nook on the far side of the greenhouse, past all the plants, where I’ve scattered some quilts and pillows on a wide triangular window ledge. It’s a perfect place to read or sleep. Or sing. 

This is the only place where I let myself sing. I don’t even do it in the woods, always afraid someone else taking a stroll will hear me or that I’ll scare away game. Ever since Prim and I were placed under Haymitch’s care, really ever since our dad died, I refuse to sing in front of others. Maybe it’s because I’m shy and I don’t like people listening to my voice swelling and breaking on the high notes. Or maybe I’m lying to myself and I don’t sing in front of others because it’s too painful to remember a time when my life was filled with music. Mountain aires and lullabies and love songs, all sung by my father. I guess I don’t like breaking apart when there’s an audience. But when I’m alone I can shatter beneath the notes for a time, before I’m needed back up at the house. 

Today, however, instead of knitting or playing hide and seek in the gardens, Prim has informed me she wants to walk to the village. “You need new ribbons for the ball!” She squeaks as I button up her light pink dress from behind. We have servants available who help us dress or bathe or brush our hair but I always like helping Prim myself. She looks like a tiny little princess with her frilly dress and her curls pulled back with a pearl white ribbon. In contrast, I look plain in a forest green frock and my light brown shawl. 

“I told you, Prim. I’m not going.” I struggle with the last button. Prim has been going through a growth spurt and soon she’ll be too big for this dress. I feel sad, watching my little sister growing up so fast. 

“I heard Mrs. Winthrop and Ms. Trinket talking and they said you had to go,” She’s grinning so hard I can see the slight gap between her two front teeth. “Because Mr. Hawthorne is going to be there.” 

Ah, yes. My supposed husband-to-be. So even Prim has heard about Ms. Trinkets’ ridiculous arrangements. A man with that much money has his pick of the litter when it comes to choosing brides. I’m not ugly, but I’m no exquisite beauty either. Not like some of the girls I see around Whitley. I have no fortune of my own, really no status either besides being Haymitch’s ward and that will go up in smoke the second he dies. Most likely Mr. Hawthorne will look right through me and move on. But the news that I’m being forced to attend the public ball worries me. The whole village will be there. Including him. The baker’s boy. 

Maybe some new ribbons aren’t such a bad idea. 

We turn down an offer for the carriage and instead walk along the main road into Whitley. My boots have barely brushed the cobblestone sidewalks when Prim is dragging me into the seamstresses’ shop. The dressmaker, Cinna Ludgate, and the tailor, I think her name is Portia Peever, both turn to welcome us. Prim tells Mr. Ludgate about my need for new ribbons and in a flash he pulls down the display from the ceiling, winking at me as he walks back to the counter. 

There are so many to choose from. Streams of all colors flutter between my outstretched fingertips like butterfly’s wings. I see ribbons of frilly lace, satin, velvet, and even silk. My eyes land on a simple, white cloth ribbon with a delicate embroidered lavender pattern. I hold it up for Prim’s inspection and she declares I have to buy two in case I manage to get one dirty before the ball. 

I’ve just handed Mrs. Peever the money for the ribbons when the bell over the door rings. In walks Ms. Delly Cartright, one of Prim’s closest friends, and her older sister, Ms. Marianne Cartright. Their father is the village shoemaker, so they’re well known and well-liked by almost everybody. Delly is Prim’s age which gives them plenty to talk about. Prim grabs a hold of Delly and begins showing her the latest shipment of buttons Mr. Ludgate has displayed. 

Marianne is one year younger than me but we’ve never exchanged more than simple pleasantries. I dread small talk but from my personal experience, a trip into town wouldn’t be deemed official without at least one awkward encounter. 

“Are you coming to the ball, Ms. Everdeen? You missed the last one,” Marianne asks. She’s absolutely gorgeous, with big, blue doe eyes and a pouty mouth. Her nose is small and her figure slender. She is what they call a “country belle” in Town. I know at least five love songs written about girls like her. I expect in a few years Prim will grow to be one herself. 

“The dancing was splendid. I do hope you’re coming next week,” She continues.

I hold up my ribbons in response. “My tutor Ms. Trinket won’t let me miss it.” I force my mouth into a smile. 

“Oh,” Marianne’s eyes have settled on my ribbons. They’re probably a tad dull for her taste seeing as there were velvets and silks to choose from, but I like the simple flower design. The white cloth paired with the purple and green thread looks pretty. “Well, as my darling mother always says: simple never goes out of style.” She smiles up at me but the warmth doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “My sister and I are here for my dress fitting. I can’t wait to show everyone what Mr. Ludgate made me for the ball. It’s a custom piece!” She practically squeals. I nod and bid her goodbye, waving Prim over so we can leave. I breathe a sigh of relief as we exit the shop. I hate girl talk. 

With our main objective for coming to Whitley carried out, my feet automatically turn towards home, but Prim has other ideas. “Can we look at the cakes, Katniss?” She begs. She’s like a little puppy. I can’t refuse, though I grow more anxious with every step closer to the bakery we get. 

I know what this is. A look at the cakes in the window leads to Prim asking to go inside. It’s happened before and I’ve been lucky enough to avoid him. He works alongside his parents and two older brothers anyway. What are the chances that he’ll be manning the counter and not the ovens in the back? 

Prim pulls me through the bakery doors and runs to press her face against the display case. I hear a call of “I’ll be right there!” from the back, followed by a grunt and the shuffling of boxes. I join Prim and am just starting to admire the selection of pastries when I hear a quiet gasp and look up. 

It's him. The baker’s youngest son. I don't know him by name but I remember him. Of course, I remember him. I can almost feel the icy sheets of rain and the hollow numbness of hunger from that horrible day as I meet his gaze. 

Our father had died three months earlier. He had been a poor wheat farmer but the income from the harvest was enough to support a small household. My mother traded plants and home remedies to supplement what our empty pockets couldn’t buy. One winter, my father had been kicked in the head by his horse. My mother did everything she could but even as young as I was, I knew he had died before he hit the ground. After that my mother stopped eating. She just sat in bed and stared at the walls while her children turned to skin and bone. I did everything to try and rouse her but it was no use. With our father dead so too was her will to live. 

At eleven I became the sole provider of the family. I ventured into town alone to sell that damn horse, some old jewelry, and even dresses of my mother’s from her merchant days, but the money ran out quickly and there was more to buy than food. Our hearth sat cold, unused, and wanting of wood, and we resorted to rubbing ourselves raw to keep warm. We stopped attending school in the village, afraid that a teacher would see how hollow we were becoming and would whisk us away to the orphanage. I had seen orphans in the schoolyard, their faces empty and their shoulders slumped in defeat. I would never let that happen to Prim. 

We had eaten nothing but dried mint leaves in water for three days before I decided to try selling some of Prim’s old baby clothes in town. The clothes were threadbare and faded so nobody had wanted them. My arms were shaking so violently from cold and malnourishment that I ended up dropping them in a puddle. I decided to leave them there, afraid that if I bent over I wouldn’t be able to get back up. 

I found myself stumbling around behind a row of brick buildings. The rain had started and I was soaked to the bone. The smell of baking bread carried over the frigid air and I realized I was behind the bakery. The back door was open and I stood, trancelike, basking in the warm glow of the ovens before a thought floated through my foggy head. Maybe they had food scraps in their trash. A crust of bread or rotting vegetables, something only my family was desperate enough to eat. I lifted the tops off of the bins and my hopes died when I saw that their insides were heartbreakingly bare. 

Suddenly, I heard a woman screeching. It was the baker’s wife. She spat remarks about how she was sick of people going through her trash bins and if I didn’t leave she would call law enforcement. As I dropped the lids and backed away I saw a boy peeking out from behind his mother’s skirts. I recognized him from school but we had never talked. 

With my final hope gone I slumped against a scrubby little apple tree in their yard. My knees buckled and I slipped down into the mud. I would rather die than go home empty-handed to Prim’s gaunt face and my mother’s sickly, unblinking eyes. 

I heard a commotion from the bakery and then the ring of metal on flesh. 

“Feed it to the pigs you worthless creature! No one decent will buy burnt bread!” The witch screeched. There was the boy again, come out the back door clutching two blackened loaves. A bright red mark shone on his cheek and my heart twisted when I realized his mother must have hit him. He looked between me and the pigpen, and then glanced back towards the door. His mother must have gone up to front to serve a customer because then I heard him sloshing his way through puddles to get to me. 

“Take them!” He urged, pressing the loaves into my skeletal hands. “Take them! Go!” As quickly as he came he was gone, back into the kitchens. I watched him disappear. As he closed the door only then did I realize what he had done for me. 

Two loaves of bread! And they weren’t even that burned, really only the crusts had been damaged. I quickly pressed them to the skin under my shirt and hurried home. The searing heat from the loaves roused something within me. I couldn’t die. Not when I had Prim to take care of.

I dropped the loaves on the table and stopped my sister from savagely tearing a chunk off for herself. I sat her down, forced our mother to join us, and then began scraping off the blackened bits. That night we feasted on two slices of bread each, afraid so much food might make us sick. The loaves were hearty, filled with nuts and bits of cranberry. I had never tasted anything so good in my entire life. 

 As I predicted, it was a teacher that found out about our situation. Upon our absence at school, she had come looking for us and found Prim and I living in squalor with a mother that was too sick to care. I thought that was it, that we were to be sent to the orphanage now and our mother taken away to an institution. But a man by the name of Haymitch Abernathy, wealthy and lacking a family of his own, intervened. He had heard of our misfortunes from hushed gossip around the village and had petitioned to adopt us. Our mother was eventually sent to an institution by the sea and we’ve lived with Haymitch, fed and clothed and taken care of, ever since. 

The baker’s boy saved our lives that day. Surely I would have given up and died under that apple tree if it wasn’t for the kindness he showed me. I owe him everything. And because of that, I will never be able to pay him back. 

I take him in now. He's taller than he was before. Much taller. His chubby child’s build has been replaced with an imposing stature that takes up almost the entire doorway. I guess a lifetime of hefting bakery pans and kneading dough has left him broad-shouldered and muscular. 

“Katniss,” he says. I can tell he’s surprised to see me. His voice is deep and I note that his blonde hair curls with sweat. There’s a streak of flour on his cheek and an apron tied around his waist.

“It’s Ms. Everdeen,” I correct him. It’s out before I can stop myself and as soon as I say it I want to bite my own tongue off. How pretentious I must sound. It's only after Prim has begun ordering a sugar-dusted fruit tart from the case that I realize with a start that the baker's boy knows my name. 

His face is flushed and pink when he turns his eyes to me. 

“I'll take four of those cookies,” I get out. “The orange lilies.” My voice sounds weaker than normal. I hate this. I feel fragile under this boy’s gaze. And that's when I realize: he must be waiting for his thank you. For the bread that he burned and took a beating for. But I can't do it, either because Prim is with me and it would confuse her and probably embarrass the boy, or because it's been five years and the time for ‘thank you’ is over. Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe he doesn't remember. He probably only knows my name because it was a source of gossip around town when Haymitch adopted Prim and I. He must remember me from then. 

He gives me a timid smile, deftly wraps the cookies in parchment paper, ties them securely with a piece of fringed twine, and hands the package to me. I suddenly feel the need to fill the silence so I blurt: “They’re beautiful. The cookies.” 

He manages to turn a shade pinker. “Thank you, I do most of the frosting around here. I made those this morning.” As I hand him the money for the treats, I assume that's it. That was the end of our conversation. But my tongue is moving again. 

“They look just like the lilies in the woods. I see them on my morning walks.” 

“Yes, exactly,” He grins and reveals a charming set of dimples. “I’ve seen them when I go to the woods to paint.” 

I don't know what else to say and Prim has started tugging on my hand. She’s probably anxious to get home so we can enjoy our treats with tea, so I give him one last look and utter one last thank you before heading back out into the crowded square. 

“Do you know him?” Prim asks as we begin walking towards home. 

“No,” I say, a little relieved to be leaving. I can't catch my breath and my heart is racing like it does when something frightens me. “I don't even know his name.”

“Well, I've never seen you be that talkative with a stranger.” She beams. “Wait until I tell Mrs. Winthrop!” 

Is that what he is to me? A stranger? I shake the thought from my head.

He knew my name. The very least I can do is learn his. 

[yesloverboy]

Never Let You Go (mgk! Tommy Lee x Reader)

Requested: Anon

“I have 2 requests but they are completely up to your interpretation anyways, so for one like tommy taking care of his drunk girlfriend or friend or whatever you want and then another request would be tommy (lol love my tommy) where like the reader and tommy are friends and they’re at a bar and readers ex is there and shit goes down. Hopefully those make sense, do what you want!”

Note: Listen, I know it’s been a hot minute but my love for Tommy and Crüe will never die so thanks for being patient! Love y’all bunches and I will be posting about my updated writing schedule shortly. 

word count: 2,712

[Warnings: blood, violence, cheating, toxic relationships, swearing, and alcohol mention.]

permanent tags: @colsonbakersnoseringmain, @lululovesgwtw, @kingbouji3

mötley tags: @lauravic 

tommy tags: @chlobo6

 After your breakup, you were almost certain that not even all the alcohol in the world could drown your problems. Heartache left an unfillable void in your chest that wanted to suck every last bit of your happiness deep down inside, never to be seen again. Luckily, your best friend, Tommy, was determined to spend the entire weekend proving you wrong. According to Tommy, alcohol can drown any problem if you’re with the right people– and he just so happens to be your favorite person in the entire world.

 If someone were to ask you weeks– maybe even days –ago, you would’ve claimed that your boyfriend Kyle, of three and a half years, held the position of favorite in your heart. That is, until you found him grunting and thrusting into a woman that most definitely wasn’t you. Hell, she wasn’t even a woman you knew. As it turned out, your beloved boyfriend had been fucking other women on and off since they day you’d met.

 Teary-eyed and utterly brokenhearted, you went to the only person you knew who could hold you together at a time like this– Tommy. In his usual fashion, Tommy had greeted your desperate raps on his door with a goofy grin and open arms. However, once his blue eyes met your red-rimmed ones, his chipper mood quickly dissolved into concern.

 “Hey button, what’s the matter?” Tommy asked, using his long arms to envelop you in a tight bear hug. Button had been his nickname for you ever since grade school. Tommy had always been bad with names, and the rainbow buttons of your first-day-of-school overalls sealed your place in Tommy’s memory from that day forward.

 You had prepared what you were going to tell Tommy on the cab ride over but, the moment he uttered your nickname, everything fell to pieces. Big, fat tears welled up in your eyes, dripping onto Tommy’s shirt like heavy rain. To your relief, he didn’t press any more questions your way. Instead, he shushed you softly and tucked you through the doorway with a protective arm.

 It wasn’t long before Tommy had you curled on the couch, wrapped tightly in a quilted blanket with your head resting comfortably in his lap. He gave you time to cry out the rest of your frustration as he ran his long fingers through the snags in your hair. Tommy didn’t say much, even if seeing you in crisis mode devastated him to the core. You were always the strong one of the two of you, and he wasn’t entirely sure how to keep it together while you crumbled at his feet.

 After a while, your sobs eventually devolved into pitiful sniffles, allowing you to catch your breath enough to finally speak. When you finally mustered up the courage to tell Tommy what your boyfriend– well, ex-boyfriend – had done to you, his blood began to boil incessantly beneath his skin. Tommy wanted Kyle dead. Hell, deader than dead. If you hadn’t just been sobbing in his arms for the past hour, he’d already be on the phone with Nikki to plot your ex’s demise.

 Tommy physically couldn’t comprehend how a slimeball like Kyle could possibly have it in him to cheat on a girl like you for so long. You were patient, kind, and positively beautiful in Tommy’s eyes. For most people, a guy like Tommy is a lot to handle, but you never asked him to shrink himself in the presence of other people. You loved Tommy’s ‘too-much-ness’, as you affectionately called it, and wanted nothing more than to bottle it up and save some for the rainy days. Unfortunately, this day had been the rainiest of them all.

 Although he would never admit it, you were Tommy’s dream girl, and he would do whatever it took to make you feel like your old self again. Even if it were only for a few, fleeting moments in between bloodshot eyes and broken cries.

...

 It’s that same desire to make you happy that has Tommy dragging you to some sleazy new wave club halfway across town. You and Tommy are renowned metalheads in the L.A. music scene, but you can’t deny the way that the heavy synth and pounding bass lifts your spirits from the inside. As much as you despise its trendy nature, the appeal of cheap pop music isn’t entirely lost on you, and going to the last place anyone would expect to see you is exactly what you need right now.

 The club is packed full of patrons, each demonstrating new and interesting ways to incorporate nylon and neoprene into their glowing ensembles. You and Tommy undoubtedly stick out like sore thumbs, but you can’t help the grin that spreads across your face as he takes your hands and swings you across the dancefloor. You Spin Me Round blares through the sound system, causing the light-up floor to vibrate obnoxiously beneath your feet.

 Tommy picks you up and begins spinning you around in his arms at a dizzying pace, causing you to erupt into a fit of cringes and laughter. The two of you haven’t even made it to the bar yet and you’re already giggling and shoving each other like a pair of carefree idiots. Tommy’s childlike sense of fun and comforting grasp bandaids the gaping hole in your chest for a moment, but the fear of your all-encompassing sadness leaking out again makes you shiver beneath the strobing lights.

 As if he can read your mind, Tommy’s roughhousing ceases so he can stop and look at you. His dark blue eyes scan yours for any sign of an imminent breakdown on the horizon, but you quickly plaster on a brave face. You have no reason to hide the wave of sadness passing through you, but figure there’s no time like the present to practice looking fine in front of those you love.

 Before Tommy can ask if you’re okay, you bounce on your tiptoes and grasp at his shoulder for leverage. “I’m going to get us some drinks, okay?” you project your weak voice into Tommy’s ear, practically yelling over the pulsating music.

 Tommy seems to get the idea and offers you a weak smile as you turn towards the bar. Stay here, you mouth and Tommy shoots a reassuring thumbs up in your direction. With a shaky breath, you maneuver your way through the energetic crowd, doing your best to scout out the farthest available bartender. Initially, the crowd and the noise did a great job of clouding your memory, but now you needed a little extra help from some good, old fashioned hard liquor.

 You belly up to the bar, relieved that the music is just quiet enough in this corner of the club that you don’t have to strain your voice as much. Giving the bartender your best fake smile, you order yourself a double vodka soda and a Jack and Coke for Tommy. It feels like it’s going to be a long night, and you could use all the help you can get to even dream of keeping up with Tommy’s excessive drinking.

 Just as you’re about to grab the glasses and search for your lanky companion, you sense an all too familiar presence at your side.

“Y/N? Baby, is that you?”

 You suck in a breath, the sickly sweet tone of Kyle’s voice driving an icy stake into your palpitating heart. No, no, no, no, you flounder, this can’t be happening. You turn around, mouth running dry as soon as your eyes meet the confident gaze of your ex-lover. It was a look you had seen a hundred times before, and yet the familiarity of it all is exactly what’s bringing you to your knees.

 Kyle takes a step forward and you immediately find yourself taking an instinctive step back, the base of your spin quickly bumping harshly into the bar’s edge. Kyle rests a casual hand on the bar next to your hip, not exactly pinning you to the spot, but making it more than apparent that he doesn’t want you to leave just yet.

 “Thought that was you, sweetheart, I’d recognize that tight ass anywhere,” Kyle purs, looking down on you with a predatory gleam in his eyes, “Miss me yet?”

 The ice in yours and Tommy’s drinks rattles in its glasses, giving away the tremor in your nervous hands. You want to yell, scream, cry– anything, but you find yourself frozen to the spot. The memory of Kyle on top of that mystery woman in your shared bed replays in your head like a threat, reminding you that he never really loved you at all. Feeling small and pathetic in front of the man that abused your trust for so long, you silently pray that the floor might swallow you up.

 You grit your teeth as hot tears blur your vision, but do not speak. A sob starts to build in your throat and, before you’re able to release it, a flash of movement catches your eye. Looking past Kyle, you’re relieved to find Tommy storming over to the scene with bared teeth and clenched fists.

 “Hey asshole!” Tommy growls, jerking Kyle’s shoulder back in an effort to yank him away from your trembling form. The look of overwhelming fear and anxiety in your eyes fans the fire in Tommy’s chest, and it takes all of his strength not to drag your ex to the floor right then and there. In all your years of knowing Tommy, you never imagined he could ever look this furious and you find yourself getting scared.

 You aren’t scared of Tommy, no, you could never be– you were scared for Kyle.  

 Kyle just laughs and brushes at his lapels for show, raising his hands in mock surrender, “Easy there, man. I was just about to ask my girl if she wanted a ride home, is all. Isn’t that right, hon?”

 The cockiness in Kyle’s voice turns your stomach as he looks back at you expectantly, silently willing you to comply. Your eyes dart between him and Tommy, and you can already picture how the next couple of minutes are going to unfold.

 Tommy steps directly into your ex’s personal space, the visible height difference making Kyle shift his jaw nervously. To anyone passing by, Kyle probably appeared to be in total control, but you knew him well enough to recognize the look on his face. He’s in deep shit, and he knows it.

 “Funny you call her that, Kyle,” Tommy spits, his voice dripping with venom as he presses an accusatory finger into Kyle’s chest. “Make no mistake, I heard you had a girl– actually, a long list of girls. But Y/N? Yeah, she ain’t one of them. Never was.”

 Kyle laughs nervously, puffing out his chest in a weak attempt to seem taller. “Is that right? Then what is she, then? Your girl?”

 “And what if she is? What the fuck are you going to do about it?”

 Tommy’s face is only a few inches away from Kyle’s, the tension in the air so palpable that even the bartender across the way seems to be frozen it. The bass from the dancefloor thumps ominously in the distance, its hollow thud matching the heaviness of your heartbeat.

 To your surprise, Kyle is the first to relent. Casting you a bitter glance, he shoves Tommy’s chest away from his and begins backing slowing out of the room. His eyes never leave Tommy’s, watching him with the same caution as a zookeeper getting ready to feed a hungry lion. You breathe a sigh of relief, but it comes far too soon.

 “Fine, have her,” Kyle hisses, “she’s a lousy lay, anyways.”

 The moment the insult left your ex’s lips, his fate was sealed. Tommy’s restraint melts away as he lunges forward, his fist swiftly connecting against Kyle’s nose with a sickening crack. Blood spurts out from Kyle’s face and onto the glowing floor like a broken spigot, instantly causing your stomach to flip queasily. Even in the low lighting you can see splotches of ruby red seeping into the fabric of his stark white shirt.  

 Kyle stumbles backward, falling disoriented to the floor. He cries out in agony but Tommy continues to stalk forward, relentlessly hunting him into a corner like some kind of feral animal. You know it can only get uglier from here and, as much as you’ve enjoyed seeing Kyle eat his words, you really don’t want to add bailing Tommy out of jail to your to-do list.

 Before Tommy can cock back his fist for another hit, you catch his arm. The glasses you were previously grasping in your hands clatter noisily to the floor, the watered down alcohol and soda pooling lazily at your feet.

 “Tommy, that’s enough,” you warn, but the words are cushioned by tenderness you feel for him. All ever Tommy wanted to do was shelter you from all the bad things in the world, and you’d be lying if you couldn’t admit that he did it well.

 With an angry sigh, Tommy begrudgingly allows you to pull him to your side. Snaking his arm protectively around your shoulders, he frowns slightly as you shiver beneath his touch. It pains him to see you this way, shaking with anxiousness in the presence of a man you used to give all your love to– a love that he didn’t even deserve. Without thinking Tommy presses a gentle kiss to the top of your head, the touch so faint you almost miss it.

 “I’ve got you, button,” Tommy whispers, his voice barely audible over the music. Your heart somersaults in your chest as you gaze up at Tommy, your watery eyes connecting with his soft blues. Even panting and red-faced from his encounter with your ex, he still has the same happy face that drew you to him all those years ago.

 Without a second thought, you lace your fingers with Tommy’s, holding his arm in place as it rests on your frame. “Let’s go home,” you sniffle, nuzzling his bruised knuckles with the side of your tear-stained cheek.

 You lead Tommy out of the club, leaving Kyle moaning pathetically in a pool of his own blood. Not even a bartender or a bouncer cared to bat an eye at his pitiful display, and you can’t help but wonder if he would look the same after suffering a broken nose. Kyle may have left a permanent stain on your heart, but Tommy made sure he wouldn’t be able to so much as look in the mirror without remembering what he had done to you.

 The summer air is balmy outside the club as you and Tommy await the next available cab. You stand in comfortable silence, your form still pressed firmly against his side as he puffs on a cigarette absentmindedly. Tommy’s free hand curls around the ends of your hair, the small, intimate gesture causing you to blush.

 “So,” you say finally, breaking the silence, “your girl, huh?”

 Tommy’s eyes widen, his blue irises swimming in orbs of white. “Oh, uh, that? That was nothing– just, uh, don’t worry about it–” he stammers, his face flushing pink with embarrassment.

 With a grin, you rise to your tiptoes and place a gentle kiss on Tommy’s cheek, stunning him into silence. “Someday,” you whisper, “Maybe not today, but someday soon.”

 Your words tumble through the night air like a promise, intertwining with Tommy’s ever visible heartstrings and grasping tightly. Tommy always fell for girls hard and fast, but with you it was different. His love for you only grew with each passing moment, embedding itself in every look and every action until it all culminated into a single punch. You were what he had always been looking for, and he was exactly what you had been missing all along.

 Tommy holds you tight for the rest of the evening, playing with your fingers on the cab ride home to eventually tangling his legs with yours as the two of you collapse in a heap on his couch. No matter what happens, no matter how long it takes– Tommy would be yours forever, and forever isn’t nearly long enough.

Masterlist

[spiritvinex]

marichat may day 4

back again, peoples! i’m a little behind, but, uh, things have been busy, you know? anyways here’s my chapter for day 4: thief

read it on ao3!

@marichatmay​

A cookie Marinette left out on her balcony. It was a nice night, really warm so Marinette had decided to watch the sunset. She had brought snacks and a cozy blanket, but she had forgotten her phone back in the bakery, so she ran down to get it.

What she didn’t know was that there was a sneaky cat roaming around. And the aroma emitting from the sweet treats attracted him straight to her balcony.  

By the time she returned there was no sign of anyone lurking around her balcony. But what used to be five cookies, turned four, and it left a very confused Marinette. The only people that could reach her balcony were her, her parents, and Chat Noir. Though, her parents were working down in the bakery and she didn’t see Chat Noir anywhere. She would have to have a talk with Tikki later. Now it was just time to enjoy the sunset. 

»»——————-««

A few weeks later, another mysterious thing happened again. Marinette was knitting a new scarf for the upcoming winter season. Her mother called her down for dinner, so she took a well deserved break. She left her yarn basket out, not aware that a certain cat would sneak in to visit his princess. And of course he couldn’t help himself, and by the time Marinette returned, there was yarn everywhere. 

And there was one, single ball of yarn that went missing. Specifically, a green one. Marinette became suspicious. Chat Noir did visit her, but usually he would only drop by for a hello or because she invited him. 

It was a very suspicious situation. 

Marinette began to pay more attention to her belongings. Just as the cookie and the yarn disappeared, other things did too. 

Now, Marinette had a lot of blankets, most of them were ones that she made. They were stacked in a pile in her closet. One of her favorites was an old quilt, one of her first creations. One night she was feeling quite nostalgic, but when she went to grab her blanket, she realized that there wasn’t a blanket at all! Tikki was definitely not big enough to pull out a blanket. Her parents always asked if they needed something. Her mind strayed again to Chat Noir. She would have to interrogate him the next time he dropped in. 

She didn’t have to wait long because within two days, there he was, tapping on her window. He smiled when she looked over at him. When she opened her window, he flew in, and landed on her chaise. “Hey, Princess,” he teased, “whatcha up to?”

“Oh, nothing, Chat Noir,” she began to hide the new shirt she was sowing, “I’m just making a new quilt, because my old one seemed to have gone missing.”

Marinette saw him stiffen out of the corner of her eye. That was her first piece of evidence: an uncomfortable Chat Noir. He had no reason to be uncomfortable about the subject of the quilt if he had no part in the crime. 

She sighed. “I was also looking for some of my green yarn, but that has disappeared too! I was so sad.”

It was even more suspicious when Chat Noir started fidgeting with his fingers. “That’s real tragic, Princess.”

“You haven’t seen anyone, right, Chat Noir?” she looked over to him, trying to imitate Manon’s puppy eyes as best she could. “I was devastated that I started losing my things! And it all started with a cookie,” she pouted. 

“Haha, sorry, I have seen thieves lurking around here. If I did, I would’ve gladly gotten rid of them for you,” he didn’t look her in the eye. 

She sighed, maybe a little too dramatically. “Of course. You want to watch some movies?”

He perked up again. He nodded vigorously.

They made their way to her loft bed and snuggled into the warm blankets. Marinette pulled out her computer and began to pull up Disney+. Though, the thing about this was that Marinette was very forgetful when it came to passwords. She was also very clumsy when it came to typing, so she liked to be able to see what she typed, so she had the ‘hide’ feature off. She had no idea that the boy sitting next to her would take advantage of that. 

So, they watched their movies, having a great time together until Chat Noir had to leave, due to the time. They both had school the next day, so with a salute, he bounded back home.

The next day was long and busy. The mountain of homework assigned by her teachers along with the help her parents need in the bakery exhausted Marinette. 

By the end of the day, she was finally free from her work. It was still a reasonable hour, so she didn’t have to go to sleep quite yet. She opened up her computer, eager to rest while she watched a movie, but instead of the first thing on her recently watched being Tangled, it was Aristocats. She couldn’t recall ever watching that. 

Her mind went right to Chat Noir. That mangy cat! Just after her interrogation him about stealing her stuff, he goes and he hijacks her account! She pursed her lips. It was time for some payback. 

Though she had been working all day, she was already at her desk formulating her plan. She smirked, Chat Noir would pay for taking her things. 

Tomorrow was a Friday, and Chat usually made an appearance when the day before the weekend. She would place a stool in the center of the room and place a plate of cookies on top. If she knew anything about Chat Noir, he wouldn’t be able to resist. 

Friday came very fast and the moment Marinette returned from school, she took her plan straight into action. Eager to see it through, by six o’clock she was finished. She managed to make a hiding spot that not even Chat Noir would notice. She had bought new green yarn and formed an inconspicuous trap wire, right in front of the stool. If Chat even tried to approach the cookies, he would immediately fall. 

She smirked. She should get this on video. 

Right before the clock struck eight, Marinette was hiding and her phone was well hidden and recording. Chat Noir swung in, as she left her window open and immediately looked at the cookies in the center of the room. He looked around, most likely checking to see if Marinette was in the room, and then shrugged. 

Marinette watched as he got closer to the wire and just as she planned, he tripped and fell forward, knocking down the stool and the cookies. 

Marinette emerged from her hiding place with, of, course, a Nerf gun. She started to spray his fallen body with water, and laughed triumphantly at his yelp. He scurried to the other side of the room, in an attempt to protect himself, while Marinette doubled over on the floor in laughter. 

“I got you so good, Chat!” she couldn’t help but release her laugh at his horrified expression.

“W-What? Princess?? Why?!” he actually looked betrayed.

That just made Marinette laugh more. “You really think I didn’t know it was you who was taking my stuff? You’re the only one who can access my balcony and get inside my room from the outside! You just didn’t cover your tracks well enough.” She crossed her arms, another win for Marinette.

He pouted. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have lurked.”

She made her way over to him, “Chat, you know that all you would have to do is ask, and I could probably have given you any of those things.”

Chat rubbed the back of his neck, “Y-Yeah, I dunno, it just made sense at the time to just go for it. And I shouldn’t have logged into your Disney+ account without asking you. If you need it, I can even buy you the yarn I took since… I kinda ruined it.”

She chuckled, “It’s okay, Chat, we’re okay,” she then smacked his arm, “just don’t do it again.”

He smiled and reached for her hand, laying a kiss on it, “Whatever the princess wants,” he looked up sheepishly, “So, uh, can I have a cookie now?”

Her parents really did wonder what all that laughter from Marinette’s room was caused by.

[lukeysgirl]

swallow me whole | c.t.h pt. 1

synopsis: nasty calum hood smut w a decent storyline?

word count: 10k+ (i got carried away but like) 

authors note: i know this is so long and intimidating bt its a good read (i think) and youll like it (maybe) !! 

PART ONE  I N V I T A T I O N 

“Y/N! Work better, not faster!” 

Your heart beats just a bit faster as you straighten your back and link eyes with your manager. That taunting demeanor never seems to ease up, causing you to gulp as you glue your arms to your sides. “I’m sorry-- I didn’t realize how fast I was being.” 

The witch who hired me gestured behind me, “then you should start noticing more, Ms. Y/L/N.” You slowly turn your body while listening to your managers heels clink away from the aisle you were working in. You emit an annoyed sigh when you see the cans (that you swore to have stacked perfectly) sprawled about the recently-mopped floor. 

You bring your fingers to your ears, using your indexes to see if you had your earbuds in. But you didn’t, causing you to frown. How did I not hear them fall behind me? You asked yourself in your head as you shake your head and reluctantly went back to re-stack them. 

XXX

“You should just quit already.” 

You glared over at your gorgeous friend beside you, “ah yes, and would you like to pay my bills until I finish my degree and get a better job?” The model could only roll her eyes and smile, knowing that you were a realist and she, in many aspects, was not. 

Merigold Leigh is one of the kindest souls that walks the earth. Although she is a Victoria Secret model, she couldn’t give less of a damn about it. ‘It pays the bills and keeps me healthy,’ she claims as she eats her least favorite vegetables. She listens and holds you whenever you’re at the very brink of tears. She comes around every single time you need her, and whenever she can’t, she calls and gives you every free second she has. 

“I mean, I always tell you to move in with me,” Meri begins with a shrug. She looks all around her lavish apartment and smiles. “You can ravish in my luxuries without worry so you can focus on your studies.” 

You smiled but shook your head. You hated to decline her, seeing as her apartment had way more than enough space to house the both of them. It was a large New York City penthouse, with everything you’d expect a millionaire to have. Paintings imported from Paris, wine bottles imported from Italy. Her entire home was furnished with the most expensive (yet simple) things. It was like walking into a small IKEA. She kept from placing photos of herself or the awards she has won all over the apartment, as she isn’t too bothered to flaunt about her worth. 

You pulled the shared quilt to cover your body more, “if only I didn’t have so much pride.” Meri giggles while taking another spoonful of Fage yogurt into her mouth. The two of you were very comfortable on her gray couch, with both pairs of legs up and both bodies curled up into balls. “Besides, all the excitement of sleeping over would be taken away if I moved in with you.” 

Meri rolls her eyes, “your first mistake was assuming that I could become boring.” You giggle, tossing a few pieces of popcorn at her before taking another bite. “You love taunting me with your ability to eat whatever your heart desires.” 

“Is’not on purpose,” you struggle to say through a full mouth. Chewing it down and swallowing, you glance over at her kitchen, “you don’t have food for regular humans here.” She rolls her eyes once again and threatens to catapult a bit of yogurt in your face. 

She begins to scrape the corners of the container, “I still think you should quit. That supermarket will be the death of you.” You shrug, staring distantly. It wasn’t a bad gig but you can certainly do with a better manager, better hours, and a better uniform. “Green doesn’t suit you well.” 

“But who else will get you discounts at Whole Foods?” You question slyly. Meri could only push some of her natural red locks off of her tanned shoulder. She places the empty container of yogurt on her coffee table and licks off any residue from her lips. 

“Forget the discount; I want you to be happy,” she insists warmly. Your smirk dissolves and you begin to grow distant again. She notices and quickly takes your hands into hers, forcing your attention to return to her. “Working and studying at the same time is bringing you stress and that is something I don’t want.” 

“But I need to work for money so I can pay for my apartment,” you begin somberly, “and I need to study so I can work a better job for more money to get the hell out of here.” 

“That’s so cruel, Y/N,” Meri pouts. “You’re in the city of dreams-- the city that never sleeps! Everyone would kill to live where you live.” 

“Yes, but will they kill for how I live?” You scoff at her words. “I pay almost $700 for a studio apartment that if I literally laid down on the floor and stretched all my limbs, I’d occupy the entire place.” 

Meri gently brings her hand up and flicks the very top of your forehead. “Your apartment is literally a block away from mine and we literally live next to Times Square.” You roll your eyes, still not persuaded. “And you’re studying at NYU-- that’s a dream that only so many people could live.” You still shrugged her words away. 

You didn’t feel special. There’s thousands of students studying at NYU, who live in an apartment similar to yours and have done the same amount of exploring as you have. You have walked around all the boroughs, have tried almost all the cuisines more than once and know the MTA system well. Those are not experiences or skills unique to you as this is one of the biggest cities in the world. 

“You know what you need?” Meri tugs your hands, bringing you back to earth quickly. You listen attentively, assuming she would be spewing wise words. “Some dick.” 

Immediately, you retract your hands, your sudden movement causing your bowl of popcorn to fall on the floor. You quickly get on the floor to clean up your mess, Meri following your motions. “I’m so sorry, Meri. I didn’t mean to make a mess.”

“It’s all good, sis, don’t fret so much,” the sweet ginger insists as you both pick up the pieces of popcorn and place them back into the bowl. Once the mess was done, you rose from the ground and headed straight to the kitchen to dispose of the fallen food. Meri tails after you, with full intention to continue entertaining the subject. “But am I wrong?”  

You open the silver trashcan and slowly dig out the popcorn from the bowl and into the mint-scented Glad bag. “Meri, I really don’t think dick is what I need.” 

“Okay, maybe I was a bit rash,” she hums behind you, taking a seat on her quartz kitchen island. “But I think you should finally go out with me and live a little bit.” Here she goes again… 

Every weekend since the day you met her, Meri has asked you to go out with her. Whether it be to Victoria Secret shows, bars, celebrity parties, or a random trip to Europe. She encourages the careless for you, even though she knows very well that you have many responsibilities that keep you strapped in. Although you definitely knew that your social life was in desperate need of some flavor, you could not just spontaneously add some flavor to it. You have school to attend to, homework to get done, and bread to get. It wasn’t your fault that you have to be an adult and Meri got to live her best life. 

“Maybe I can get another boyfriend to ruin my life again,” you began sarcastically. “Distract me from my studies and force me to call off days from work. Make me poor again and slack in my courses-- what a joy that would be.” 

Meri huffs, clearly irritated by your words. “You won’t meet another Chris, I pinky swear.” 

The very name she emitted made you want to vomit. Knowing alone that he existed erupted discomfort all over your body. There are days where you could be fine being reminded of him, but other days absolutely defeat you. Socializing would just lead to another Chris and although that’s very narrow-minded of you, you were just too afraid to risk it. 

“Even so,” you begin as you bring the empty bowl towards the kitchen sink. Turning the faucet on, you take the initiative and start washing the buttery dish. “Partying is your thing. I don’t necessarily fit in the party scene.” 

“That’s because you refuse to go to parties,” Meri pointed out a fact. You could feel her right behind her, her warm breath right on the back of your neck. She clung her hands on your shoulders and squeezed them gently. “Just one night and I’ll never ask you again.” 

...One night really couldn’t hurt, could it? Wait, no, stop. Meri was good at being persuasive but when it came to parties, you are extremely adamant. You didn’t favor being in the position of being surrounded by many drunk people, potentially being touched by them and then sweating out buckets due to the summer heat and the cramped space. That idea did not appeal in any way. 

“But Meri-eeeeee!” Whining was a very good tactic for you, as it typically worked. But Meri was not having it this time around. As soon as you finished washing your hands and shutting off the faucet, she turns you around and forces you to face her. 

“You’re sleeping over this weekend, right?” Merigold begins with facts. You nod, unsure as to where she was going with this. “That means you finished all your homework due for the coming week, yes?” You nod again. “That also means you don’t work this weekend?” Another nod. “Perfect. We’re going the fuck out, bitch.”

You accidentally nod from the pattern but completely shake your head when realizing it had actually been broken. “I-- wait, Meri, no. I’m not going out--” but she had shut you up with a finger pressed against your lips. 

“It’s Friday night and there's a party happening at one of my favorite bars,” Meri begins to fill you in. “It’s been booked for the night for the event so there won’t be anybody I don’t know. You’re going to let me doll you up like the Barbie doll you’re supposed to be.” 

“I’m not plastic, Meri,” you grumble in annoyance. But her face glistened from the triumph. She easily defeated you and there was nothing more you could do. Plus, seeing her so excited made you feel somewhat better about going out with her. 

She rubs her hands down your arms to weave her fingers between yours, “you’re much too beautiful for plastic, Y/N. I just want to dress you up and make you believe how gorgeous you really are. Live that fairy tale story just for one night.” 

Her green eyes were full of hope and excitement, with a hint of puppy eyes and begging. She knew you already lost, but this had to be the cherry on top. You weren’t going to deny her, seeing as she was so excited to finally go out with her best friend. And maybe it really was time to embrace just how attractive you were and show off. 

You let out a shaky sigh before nodding and giving her a small smile, “alright then; dress me up.” Meri widened her eyes and squealed so loudly, you had to look around to see if she broke any glass. 

XXX

Merigold might have gone a little overboard with the consent you gave her. 

She wanted you to look bold yet classy, bombastic yet very well put together. So she decided to flatten your hair with a steam-powered flat iron (to prevent damaging your hair, of course.) She parts your hair in half so each side of your head has enough hair to cover. Using the front parts of your hair, Meri pushes it behind your ears while pulling the rest of your hair a little forward to create that clean and nicely done hairdo. 

For your face, she didn’t want to do too much. She only wanted to highlight your features (which is everything about your face, according to her.) She lightly applies foundation and contour on your face, with a bit of concealer here and there to help with your stress marks. She fills in your eyebrows nicely and does a red/brown ombre eye shadow that isn’t too much but states its existence on its own. With small wings and a bit of mascara, Meri finishes with a cherry lip gloss on your cleaned and lip-scrubbed lips. 

Then, it was your outfit. And you didn’t keep yourself from vocalizing your opinion this time. 

“Meri, this is a bit much, isn’t it?” You quietly question, looking down at your outfit. Meri was body-deep into her shoe closet, sifting through for a pair of heels that you know you’re going to have some trouble walking in. You haven’t worn heels since your high school graduation. “Meri?” 

“Y/N, you look bitchin’,” Meri insisted while tossing shoes around. You looked over to see her frantically look through boxes of name brand shoes you’d never afford. “These shoes will make it come together.” 

Goosebumps crawled all around your body as your self-consciousness finally decided to scream at you. A lot of your skin had been showing and you were barely wearing much clothing to cover the others worth concealing. Much cleavage had been showing, as the skimpy dress stopped right above your knees. Your chest as pressed a bit, having the top of your breasts protrude. You instinctively hugged your body, attempting to cover as much as you can in the completely white walk-in closet. 

“Here they are!” Meri cheers in success as she returns to you and offers you these fairly low wedges. You took them hesitantly, taking a seat on one of her leather stools and easing in the golden-strapped shoes around your feet. “Are you cold?” Her warm hand begins to rub your upper arm. “Should I put the temperature up in here?” 

You shake your head as you finish up strapping the wedges. “I’m not cold-- just a little nervous…” Meri bent down before you, holding your chin between her fingers while giving you an encouraging smile.

“You actually haven’t looked at yourself yet, have you?” You shook your head, knowing that Meri wanted to complete the outfit before surprising you. She stands up straight once again and offers her hands. You take them and allow her to guide you over to her tall body mirror. It reached from the floor to the ceiling. But before you could stand in front of it, she gives you a good look and a squeeze. “You actually have no idea just how beautiful you are.” 

She pulls you gently while you sheepishly let her present yourself in front of the mirror. You look straight into your own eyes before allowing them to look at yourself up and down. This can’t be me, can it? You looked down at your forearms, seeing the golden accessories hang from your wrists, neck, and ears. 

“That’s… me?” You whisper to Merigold as you continued to scan yourself in the mirror. Your fingers trailed around your body, your skin glistening with gold sparkles ornate all over from all the luxurious products Meri let you use. “You’re kidding.” 

“I’m not,” Meri confirmed. She joined you in the mirror, still in her pajamas and unready but nonetheless beautiful. Meeting shoulders, she smiles widely and nudges you lightly. “Aren’t you a tall glass of water?” 

You were swallowed up by a completely crimson dress, which did wonders complimenting your body as well as your makeup. There were no words to say for it-- you weren’t Y/N anymore. Tonight, you were the woman you’ve been wondering about all your life but never let her out. 

“Wow,” you breathed out, unsure as to how to really react. You then turn over to her and begin to fret. “Wait, you have to get ready too! Is there enough time before the party?” 

“Girl, don’t you worry ‘bout a thing,” Meri hums quietly. “It’s only 6 and I’ve invited my favorite nail salonists so we can get mani-pedis.” You raised your eyebrows at her unnecessary amount of spending and she could only raise her hands shyly. “You’re finally letting me spoil you-- let me have my moment.” 

“Yeah, yeah…” you rolled your eyes while flattening any wrinkle on the dress. But the dresses fabric on the outside didn’t exactly wrinkle so you were all set. “Hey, I have a question,” you started, with Meri staring at you in fascination. “When did you get my outfit that’s exactly my size?” 

“I’ve been waiting for this moment, Y/N,” Meri stares at you wistfully. “Finally, my time has come and my purpose will soon be fulfilled.” 

“You’re so annoying,” you shove her playfully before the two of you go back downstairs to prepare for the nail salonists. Meri failed to mentioned that she also invited her hair stylist and makeup artist so everything could get done at the time. All you could do was shake her head as she begins to explain her outfit to you. 

XXX

“Can I back out now?”

“Absolutely not.” 

You bite down on your bottom trembling lip as you looked through the shaded window of Meri’s SUV. The flashing lights of the city night wasn’t foreign but could definitely burn your eyes. Lines were piled with people who clearly weren’t allowed in with an army of guards protecting not only the door of the bar, but the surrounding blocks. Paparazzi swarmed the area as well, and quickly had taken notice of Meri’s car. 

“Meri,” you begin quietly, “what other celebrities will be here?” 

She looks down and thinks for a moment before nodding, “other models, artists, producers, actors. You know, a typical party.” Your eyes widened, unsure if you heard her correctly. “It’s no biggie, Y/N. You’ll meet them and it’ll be like you’re talking to normal people.” 

“Ah yes,” you spat, “normal people with millions of fans and millions of dollars. Their faces are on the TV I watch and the magazines I barely read.” Meri shoves you lightly and pouts. “I’m just a little nervous, okay?” 

Meri smiles. Her hands carefully hold up the bottom of your head and meets with your eyes. “I promise you shouldn’t be nervous. They’re really just like us; super chill and just looking for a good time.” 

You swallowed harshly, letting out several sighs while keeping yourself calm. You begin to shake your hands, feeling your palms get clammy from the anxious sweating. “Do I look okay? Am I presentable?” 

Meri shakes her head, “you’re beautiful, okay?” She then straights up your back and pushes your chin up. “Be confident, okay? You’re going to shoot arrows directly into everyone's hearts, I promise you that.” 

You take her word and release a majority of the nerves. This was your moment after all. Why should you be nervous when you look like a million dollars? Tapping on the glass, Meri’s security opens the door for you and offer a hand to assist you out. 

Taking the hand, you were immediately blinded by camera flashes. They were deafening, with the added spouts and shouts of the paparazzi and fans stood on the side. You raise a hand above your eyes to protect them as you turned and waiting for Meri to come out. And she does, with a smile touching ear to ear. 

“Merigold Leigh! Look over here!” Desperate calls for her to look over sounded as Meri gave them looks and smiles. She looked beautiful, with her ginger hair in waves and blue makeup done very subtly. Her caramel body was hugged nicely with a cerulean blue dress, flaunting every inch of her curves. 

“Y/N, let me go first,” Meri suggested. You listened while letting her lead, but she offers her hand for you to hold so you don’t part from her. She didn’t see, but you were smiling so warmly from how sweet your best friend was. She’s really one in a million, and you weren’t willing to exchange for anybody else. “Pardon me, my best friend and I are coming through!” 

The two of you made the cement below you sound as paparazzi continue to call her name. But Merigold was focused on getting the both of you in as you and her stood before the bouncers. The bouncer looks down, clearly recognizing Meri but glancing curiously at you. “She’s my plus one, love.” The bouncer nods, not needing any explanation as another bouncer opens the door and allows the both of you in. 

Though getting through was difficult with several fans touching you guys, Meri managed to pull you two in with a fair amount of ease. The bass of ‘bad guy’ quickly coursed through your veins as Meri held your hand tightly while squeezing you through the crowd. You kept your eyes down, knowing that the people surrounding you were famous and owned a net worth higher than yours will ever be.  

Where are we going? You thought to yourself as Meri seemed to have known where she was dragging you. With each step you took, you could feel yourself get more embarrassed. Your legs were completely out and bare, as you felt your thighs rub gently against each other with every step you took. Thankfully, Meri had a solution to the chafing but the embarrassment had none. You just had to deal with the fact that you’re flaunting. 

“Ashley!” You were suddenly halted and lost hold of your best friends hand as you looked up and watched her hug another woman. You looked to see that it was a fellow model; Ashley Graham. Meri told you what you were to expect, but that didn’t stop your heart from running. 

“Meri, how are you?” The brunette model hums excitedly. You listened to the ‘duh’ of the song before the beat gently dropped. You watched their happy reunion as fellow models you were familiar with had joined in and exchanged hugs. But Meri made the exchange quick so she could pull you in and introduce you. 

“Ladies, this is my bestest friend, Y/N,” Meri begins while putting her arm around you. You smile shyly, recognizes the few faces you’ve met several times due to Meri’s work. But you respected Ashley Graham a lot and put out your hand. 

“It’s very nice to meet you,” you started as Ashley got closer to hear you more properly. “You look gorgeous tonight.” White pearls gleam as she returns the handshake. 

“Awh, thank you,” Ashley kindly takes the compliment and eyes you up and down. “You look just as beautiful-- I mean, look at you! Are you not a model as well?” You cheeks went hot as you waved your hands and shook your head. Meri shook her head to confirm it and Ashley remained wide-eyed. “That’s shocking. You’d be an amazing model.” 

You shook your head, “I think Meri should be the model between us. I’m too busy studying in NYU anyways.” Meri grinned, squeezing you a little closer as you listened to the next verse of the tune come in. 

“She’s my study bug.” Meri smiles warmly at you, “she tends to study a little too much but I love her all the same.” 

Everyone chimed in with giggles as you rolled your eyes. Words are flung all through the conversation until you and Meri divide. She went ahead to talk to her fellow models (likely about their work) as you decided to take a seat beside Ashley. The wedges, though comfortable, were finally starting to bother you. 

Ashley quickly spews a drink to the bartender and gives you a look while she waits. “Did you not bring a purse with you, Y/N?” 

You looked down at your crossed legs, placing your hand down where your phone is, “Meri told me I wouldn’t need to bring my wallet or anything so I only brought my phone with me.” She looks down to see where your hand was. “But my ID and credit card are in my case.”

“Do you have it strapped against your thigh?” You nod. “Y/N, you’re absolutely clever.” You laugh while doing a small bow. She joins in the laughter and you exchange a few more words until Meri comes and interrupts. 

“I feel terrible to cut this short, but Ash we’ve gotta go,” Meri informs. She gives her a puzzled face, “our managers are looking for us. Y/N, you stay here.” You nod, following through with your given instructions as you watch the beautiful women wave at you before being dissolved into the crowd of people. 

Subconsciously, your eyes began to scan the crowd and felt your eyebrows rise. The Jonas Brothers are here? What kind of event was this exactly? Feeling the intimidation from being surrounded by so many known people, you decide to turn back to face the bartenders. But as you did, you met eyes with the bartender that had finished making Ashley’s drink. 

“Oh, she had to go do something,” you explained as you began to reach for your phone, “how much is the drink? I’ll pay for her.” The bartender smiled warmly at you and waved his hand. He began walking away, having you assume it was on the house. 

You bring the small glass cup close to you, having you look down to see several cubes of eyes and a small amount of a transparent substance. You gave it a whiff before concluding it was vodka. Bringing it up to see the bottom, you squint your eyes to notice there were some sort of flakes in it. What in the world… 

“It's a shot of Gold Flakes Supreme,” the bartender returned with a rag and a small glass in his hands. You met with his azure eyes, nodding at the information before putting the drink down and pushing it slightly away from you. “You don’t want it?” 

“It wasn’t meant for me,” you reply simply, “plus, I don’t drink much.” The bartender nodded but gave the small glass a push. “Uh…?” 

“I wouldn’t want it to go to waste,” he begins with a smirk. “A beautiful girl like you deserves at least one expensive drink tonight.” You blush, looking down at the polished dark oak bar as he pushes it into your peripheral vision. With your elbows leaned against it, you support your head with your hands and wistfully stared down at the drink. “Though, you must be used to drinking such luxurious drinks like this one.” 

You kept blushing as you met his eyes again and shook your head, “o-oh no, I’m not famous!” His eyes widen but you laugh it off, “my best friend is a model and wanted me to come with.” The bartender comprehends and smiles a little cheekier. 

“That explains how kind you are,” the bartender begins, “many celebrities are more stuck up.” You shrugged. 

“I take it you’ve met many celebrities,” you put out. Right at your last word, someone calls for the bartender and he glances back. He winks at you before turning away to serve another customer. 

You felt your cheeks warm. No! You began to scold yourself. Cupping your cheeks, you tried cooling yourself off with your cold hands. For the sake of your career, you were not going to immediately fall for a man so easily. You didn’t even catch his name. 

While you were working away your thoughts, you felt an abrupt and harsh thud beside you. Turning slowly, you were met with a large man who seemed to be absolutely fuming. Your eyes scanned this man up and down, the sound of Eastside and his grown fusing together. And the man was very quick to notice your staring as he snapped his neck towards you, his brown orbs full of intimidation. “Can I help you?” 

You found yourself distracted by how attractive this man was. Though the strobe lights made it difficult to tell, his skin was clearly sun-kissed. His jawline was sharp and obvious, but those chubby cheeks of his made them slightly less daunting. His nose was fairly big with facial hair randomly ornate about his face-- but he was handsome. Dark circles sat under his eyes, but those brown orbs were absorbing you completely. 

“Hey!” A deep and strained voice brought you back to reality. You blink a few times before looking at the buzzed-cut man glaring down at you. “The fuck you lookin’ at?” Attitude. 

You quickly look away and mutter a small “nothing.” He nods and turns back towards the bar, snapping a bartender his way. You glanced over, noticing that this man was completely in black. A black dress shirt tucked into what seemed like a shinier (and darker) pair of black pants. You let your eyes wander away once again, your nerves collecting up and down your spine. 

A different bartender comes his way, in which he scoffs, “fucking finally. Can I have 8 shots of absinthe?” The bartender looked like her soul was just kicked out of her body. She nods anxiously before dissolving into the large wall of alcoholic drinks. 

You decide to put your focus on the bit of vodka meant for Ashley. The ice was watering up the drink, making you feel awful for wasting such an expensive drink. Then, like you had spoken your thoughts, the man beside you asked, “are you going to drink that?” His voice was deep, nasally, and sounded like a warfare between two accents. 

You meet with his eyes again and shake your head, “it isn’t mine.” He frowns. 

“Then whose is it?” 

Does it really matter? “Clearly not yours.” The man raised his eyebrows in shock. You, too, were shocked by the sass that left your tongue. You watched as he clicked his tongue against his bottom teeth. 

“Do I know you?” He asked condescendingly. 

You shook your head. “Do I know you?” The bartender returned to the man with the 8 shots he requested. The shots were full of this dark green liquid that made your liver already want to hurt. He nods away the bartender before returning to you with a smirk. 

“You’re not famous, are you?” You shake your head. “A plus one?” You nod. He nods slowly before preparing to pick up one of the shots he ordered. 

“I take it you aren’t a plus one?” He follows you and shakes his head. “Makes sense. I’m pretty sure I’m the only person without a net worth here.” You watched his plump, soft lips hold onto part of the shots rim and downs the shot with ease. He grimaces from the taste and shrugs. 

“And you don’t know who I am?” He asks while recuperating from the shot of poison he just drank. 

You shrug, “I’m sorry, am I supposed to?” The man chuckles and shakes his head. “Are you an actor, artist, producer-- model?”

He emits a raspy chuckle, “do I look attractive enough to be a model?” You could feel your cheeks tint pink. He smiles at this, having you notice that he has a very sweet smile. It makes him much more appealing compared to the angry expression he held when he first came over. “I’m in a band. I play bass.” 

“Oh, cool.” You were genuinely impressed. Though you have no other celebrity to compare to aside from Meri, this man must have talent if he’s at this bar right now. “I’m sorry if I was rude earlier.” 

“Ah no, it’s my fault,” the man admits as he waves off your apology. “I’ve been crabby all night and decided I wanted a drink.” 

“That’s not the best coping mechanism, you know,” you commented as he took another shot. He grimaces yet again and slams the empty shot glass on the table. The man suddenly got closer to you, causing you to back off slightly. “H-hey--” 

“I’m sorry,” he speaks a little louder, “I can’t hear you too well over the music.” Eastside was blaring pretty loudly, you had to admit. You eased up and nodded. “I know I shouldn’t drink, but my life feels like it's falling apart.” 

“Are you stressed out?” You asked politely, your voice much softer and kinder. “I can imagine being famous isn’t easy.” The man shrugged. 

“That’s always going to stress me out, you know?” You nodded. “But I’ve recently received some shitty news, which only brought shittier news.” You frowned. You felt his words completely. “I’m just kinda stuck between a rock and a hard place.” 

Aren’t we all? You felt kind of bad. Even though he’s famous and could have everything, he’s still human and has the potential of losing things, too. And drinking doesn’t seem like his best friend either. He must be having a pretty hard time. And you weren’t sure why, but you decided to take the shot of watering vodka and forced it down your throat. The man beside you sat and watched as you coughed from the disgusting and very warm drink. 

“My best friend brought me out here so I can try to get a better social life,” you admitted sheepishly, clinking the empty glass with your acrylic nails. “But I’m not famous so I don’t know what she expects from me.” 

The man keeps quiet for a moment before slowly sliding one of his shots to you, “you’re doing pretty good right now.” You look down at the shot and smile curtly. He seemed kind, even though his aura is pretty off-putting. “Have a shot with me.”

“I shouldn’t…” you murmur as you bring the shot glass between your hands. 

He holds up a shot near you and smiles, “I insist. You’re the only person I want to drink with right now.” You shook your head but he placed his hand on yours. You flushed up, feeling the hard and dry calluses ornate on his large hand. “Please.”

His voice emanated pure defeat, like he had nobody else but you. There was a touch of beg, and there was only so much you could do to resist such an irresistible man. With a shaky sigh, you pick up the shot and meet his eyes. “Fuck it.”

An hour passes, and each of you were full of shots and giggles. You two bounces off of each other from conversation with ease, like a perfectly made algorithm. He explained his broken accent, as he’s originally from Australia but had unfortunately been Americanized from fame. He told you of all the lovely experiences he’s had traveling all around Asian and Europe with his band mates who also happened to be his best friends. Listening to how content he was telling you these stories made you glad for his mood change. 

Even if the two of you were a bit too tipsy. 

“You know, you’re a really good listener,” Calum began seriously. He was a very chill drunk, extremely collected with very few slurred words. “Thank you for lending me your ears.” 

You nodded, feeling your head heavy from the motion, “I get that a lot.” You felt a little sluggish, your eyes barely keeping up with his. He notices this and quickly whistles over a bartender. Your eyes wandered to see that it was the male bartender from early. He asked for a water bottle and the bartender eyes you worriedly before fetching his request. 

“Let’s sober you up a bit,” the man insists as he takes the water bottle from the bartender and opens it up for you. You feel fingers lift your chin up as you felt the bottle gently sit between your lips. Cold water slowly entered your mouth as you swallowed a good amount. It was refreshing, and tasted so much better than the vodka and absinthe you drank. He pulls away the bottle after you wave it away and lets you go, “how you feeling?” 

“Mmm,” you nod, “better.” The man smiles warmly at you. He then squints a bit before he brings his hand up to your face. You backed off a bit but he stuck out his thumb and began to dab your bottom lip. You could only blink as he gently dabbed away the loose water that remained on your glossed lips.

“Good girl,” he breathed, putting his hand down slowly. His brown eyes were captivating; you couldn’t find yourself looking away. And hearing him call you a good girl made you feel a bit weird. A little bit hot. He seemed entranced, too, as his face gradually came closer to yours. “Hey stranger, can I ask for your name?” 

“I’m Y/N.” You stuck your hand out to him. 

“Calum.” His large hand shakes yours. But he holds onto it, your eyes still locked with his. You smiled goofy. Calum. 

“I like your name,” you slur out. 

“I like your lips,” Calum murmurs quietly. His hot breath tickled your lips, having you realize just how close he was to you. “Hey Y/N… can I kiss you?” 

It was a shot in the dark. But it was only one shot and it’s either a complete hit or a complete miss. Although you weren’t completely in your right mind and should probably be looking for Meri, you really wanted to seize this opportunity. After all, when would a very attractive man such as him come around again? 

You nodded and closed your eyes, bracing yourself for the interlocking. And, without wasting a second, the man by the name of Calum, pressed his lips firmly against yours. They were warm and soft and plump-- exactly what you expected. You felt the way his warm tongue dragged along your bottom lip, savoring the saccharine goodness of it. His teeth would gently graze along your bottom lip while calming it with his tongue. 

His hands quickly worked their way to your face, cupping your cheeks gently with his fingers fairly spread out. His thumbs were lightly denting your face while the other fingers had been gently massaging the back of your head and neck. Calum wanted more and more of you, as if you two weren’t locking lips, noses touching. Your hands found their way to his thighs, keeping you up as you two tried getting closer to one another. 

Calum smelled good. He smelled of clean clothes and cologne, but he wasn’t drowned in it. It made the taste of booze easier to bare from his lips. Your pussy kept clenching, your hormones clearly desiring this man. Subconsciously, your hands crawled over to find that his crotch was protruding and twitching desperately. He groaned into your mouth from your touch. 

“Fuck,” he growled against your lips. Your anxiety quickly rose as you pulled away. “Hey--” 

“N-no, we shouldn’t be kissing here,” you mumbled nervously, looking around the bar. “Others could be taking photos, or paparazzi--” 

“Y/N,” Calum spoke over you. “Paparazzi isn’t allowed in here and celebrities mind their own business among other celebrities.” You blinked a few times, still pretty drunk and attempting to understand his words. “Just like them, I want my privacy. So don’t stress, okay?” 

You nod shyly, causing Calum to smile widely again. “Okay but um…” You pressed your thighs closer together, feeling a bit wet between them. “Can we… change scenery?” 

Calum’s brown eyes glowed, offering his hands to you, “I was just about to ask the same thing. Come on.” He looks around before muttering an ‘um.’ You watch as he untucks his dress shirt and proceeds to unbutton it. 

“Calum?” 

Without answering you, Calum removes his dress shirt and begins to cover your head. Confused, you held the shirt down so it didn’t slide off. You were going to ask but Calum was quick to answer, “I don’t want the paparazzi taking photos of you when we step out.” Protecting my identity, you thought. Sick. 

Calum checked his pockets to make sure he had everything before standing up and offering his hand. You slowly rose from the stool, using Calum’s forearms to help you up. As you did, you glanced back to see the bartender watching you from afar while making a drink for another customer. You look back at Calum and allow him to guide you out the bar. 

“Cover as much of your face as you can, okay?” Calum instructs as he begins to lead you out of the bar. You take in your instructions as you slip through celebrities. You felt like you were going to get stuck with how crowded it was, but Calum had a very firm grip on you. “Excuse me!” 

In seconds, you felt fresh air coat you all over. Your lungs were celebrating from the warm yet refreshing air. But you couldn’t bask in the excitement of being outside as you two were quickly met with flashing lights and shouts. You heard the paparazzi scream ‘Calum Hood,’ allowing you to safely assume that that was the man's full name. 

“Miss!” Several of them then began beckoning to you, feeling hands attempting to reach you and reveal yourself. And they were close, but you had a pretty firm grip on the shirt. His smell was intoxicating and you looked like a nun covering your face with the shirt. But one more grab finally sparked some initiative from Calum. 

He pulled you into his arms, your body firmly against his built torso, “stop fucking touching her!” He spat at the paparazzi, who only ate this up and resumed taking more photos and videos. You noticed from the little hole you had to see that security quickly came and pushed them back. This gave you and Calum enough time to get to his car and escape. “In here, beautiful.” He opens the door to his black SUV. 

You struggle with your wedges but you get inside the car. As he closes the door, he rushes over to the driver's seat and joins you in the car. “You can take that off now.” Removing the shirt, you look around in paranoia. But his windows were shaded so nobody would be able to see the inside. “Are you okay? Did they hurt you?” 

You fold the shirt and hand it over to Calum, “I’m fine, don’t worry.” He smiles while taking the shirt and gently placing it in the back of the car. He looks straight again and presses the button to start his car, watching as everything turns on and lights up. His radio immediately blasted Slow Motion by Trey Songz and you giggled. 

“Shit, I’m so sorry--” Calum begins to apologize as his fingers try to lower the volume. But you loved this song and couldn’t help but jam out. 

“Baby, when I saw ya walking out the door,” you sung, your hands reaching up to touch the roof of the car. “I jus knew you needed somethin’ more.” 

Calum watched you in fascination as you sway your body to the sensual song. His boner had been getting worse and worse as you dragged your fingers down your collarbone and towards your chest. You notice that the car had been running but not moving. You look over at Calum. 

“Shouldn’t you be driving?” 

“Shit, yeah.” 

With that, Calum pulls away from the curb and begins to drive to his apartment. You watched him drive, noticing how muscular his arms were. They were bigger than your face. Your eyes guide down to his collarbone, noticing one of the two tattoos that sit just below it. You bring your hand to touch it, causing Calum to flinch. But his tension dissolves as you slowly trace the lines. 

“Like it?” He hummed quietly. 

“It’s fitting,” you reply with a nod. You begin to drag your fingers towards his shoulder and down his muscular arm. They barely grazed his skin, but it had done just enough to make goosebumps rise. “Does my touch make you nervous?” 

“Nah,” he replies unconvincingly. He quickly blasts the A/C and chuckles, “I’m just cold.” You giggle, continuing your adventure down his side. Your fingers reach his pants, causing you to bite your bottom lip. Your hand swiftly finds itself right on top of his boner, getting a “fuck!” out of him. 

“You seem to have a problem down there,” you mumbled quietly. Calum chuckled. 

“Amazing observation, Y/N,” Calum compliments sarcastically. You roll your eyes as you look up to see car lights glisten against Calum’s face. You look over to notice why he began sucking his teeth and sighing. “Fucking traffic,” Calum grumbles as he begins ot honk. “Fucking go!” 

You laugh at his rage before returning your focus down on his crotch. Gently, you rub his boner, feeling his limb gradually get larger. Calum lets go of the wheel as he’s taken his defeat in the traffic and begins to pay attention to your actions. You look up to see his brown eyes study your hand and his bottom lip firmly stuck between his pearly whites. 

You toy with the zipper of his pants before you halt and pout, “is this okay?” 

Calum nods, “it's way more than okay.” 

You resumed, pulling down the zipper slowly while Calum helped in pulled the pants down slightly. His black Calvin Klein's couldn’t do much as Calum’s boner immediately shot up. The tightness from the pants had been restricting his cock for too long as you heard Calum emit a relieving sigh. Your hands cling onto the waist of the boxers before pulling it completely down. You noticed that he was cleanly shaved before your eyes were on his bare cock. It immediately slapped against Calum’s stomach. 

Without any more delays, you move closer to the drivers while using Calum’s thigh to hold you up. Using your free hand, you hold the 7-inch limb to keep it from slapping his stomach. Veins danced up and down his cock, his tip a light hue of pink. You let out a nervous sigh before bringing your lips to his tip. A throaty moan escapes Calum’s lips as your lips wrap around the top of his cock. 

“Fuck,” Calum dragged, throwing his head back as you licked the man’s cock up and down. His dick was shiny from your saliva, making it easier for your hand to stroke it up and down while your mouth did the rest of the work. “That feels so fuckin good…” 

His large hand takes up your flattened hair, keeping it from distracting you as you slowly took in more of his cock. His dick slid in with ease, through his tip was somewhat rough on your throat. More moans ensued from the man’s mouth as you take him as deeply as you could. He began to thrust up, desperate to put his dick as far into your throat as he could. 

“Shit, Y/N,” Calum growled as he moved the car inches in the slow moving traffic. “Can I?” You felt his hand weave through your hair and massage the back of your scalp. He wanted to face fuck you. You used both hands to hold onto his thigh as a way to give consent. He bites down on his bottom lip harshly as he brought his other hand to hold your head. Slowly, he started to move your head up and down his cock. Your warm tongue swirled around his cock as he shoved it in and out your mouth. 

Your panties became wetter from being face fucked. Although your eyes were tearing up and likely ruining your makeup, you wanted Calum to use your body more. “Your mouth feels so fucking good, Princess.” Your new nickname made you hotter as you gagged uncontrollably around Calum’s cock. You swallowed down the piling up saliva in your mouth, and that made Calum high. “F-fuck, your throat is so tight…” 

He began to go a bit faster, tears quickly running down your cheeks. Your fingers and nails dent into his thigh, holding on tighter as Calum used your mouth the way he wished. A string of moans escape his lips-- he wants to cum soon. “I’m gonna cum right into your pretty little throat, okay Princess?” He informs you, his speed not relenting for a second as you felt his cock get bigger in your mouth. The tip of his cock hit the back of your throat so many times a minute that you knew it’ll be sore later. 

Calum loved the sound of your saliva all over his cock, going in and out your mouth. “Y/N, I’m cumming--” even though you were warned, your widened your eyes when you felt a warm liquid getting forced down your throat. Immediately, you shot up and released his cock with a pop! Sound. You began to cough, relieving your mouth of being stuffed. With that, a bit of his cum still sat on your tongue and dripped down your bottom lip. It was bitter and salty, but you licked the remaining bit into your mouth. You looked up at Calum, whose eyes were suddenly filled with rage. 

“Princess,” Calum begins darkly, pinching your chin with his fingers. His brown eyes were dim and haunting, causing goosebumps to rush all over your skin. “You let some of my cum drip into my car.” 

You gulped. “I’m sorry…” 

“Oh, I know,” Calum murmured quietly. “I’m gonna make you regret it anyways, Princess.” He then reverted back to driving mode as both hands clasped onto the wheel. You sat back into the passenger's seat properly, shifting uncomfortably from your juices leaking out of your pussy. Calum brought his hand to your thigh and kept it there, ensuing silence in the car as you mentally prepared for whatever the unpredictable Calum had in store for you. 

XXX

You looked out the window when Calum pulled up in front of an extremely fancy and expensive apartment building. You watch Calum turn off the car and exiting it. Walking around it, Calum opens your door and offers you a hand. You looked around curiously, “are you sure I can show my face?” 

Calum nodded, “the paparazzi hasn’t figured out where my city apartment is.” You take his hand and allow him to help you out as he shuts the door behind you and clicks a button to lock the car. Several security guards stood right before you as Calum tossed his ‘car key’ to one of them. You glanced back as one of them gets into the car and drives away to park it. 

Calum’s warm hand holds yours into the beautiful and expensive building. The intensity of the bright lights was blinding as you kept your head down and followed Calum. But when you were looking down, you noticed the inner legs glistening due to how horny you were. And you still weren’t quite that sober so you squeezed Calum’s hand tighter in desperation. 

He chuckles at you, “what’s wrong, Princess?” He glances back at you to see your face as red as a tomato. You bit your bottom lip and shook your head, too embarrassed to tell him your situation. Snickering, Calum guides you to an elevator and presses one of the buttons. You looked up slightly to see that they were going to the 48th floor. 

“C-Calum,” you stuttered, looking up at him. He looked of a sadist right then, knowing that you were wet beyond belief and that you were desperately seeking relief. “I need you.”

“You need me?” Calum repeats. You nod your head slowly and Calum was in a short fit of chuckles. “Alright, c’mere.” He pulls you into his body and holds you tightly at your waist. Your cheeks were burning, and you watched Calum dip down to kiss your lips once again. 

You clung onto his black tank top desperately, feeling his large hands slowly crawl down to your ass. Calum rubbed, grabbed, and spanked your ass as you two kissed through the floors. You listened to the sound of the elevator skipping each floor as Calum’s tongue breached into your mouth. It was clear he was the dominant, his tongue swirling around yours and eventually pressing it down before returning its focus to your upper lip. The gloss that was once on your lips were completely licked away by Calum. 

You felt Calum pull your dress up to tease his middle finger from between your cheeks down towards your pussy. You twitched a bit as Calum’s finger began rubbing between your labias through your panties. “Y/N,” Calum parts his lips from yours, “when did you get so wet?” 

You brought your hands up to his face and pulled it down to kiss him again. Calum’s finger pushed into your pussy, bringing your soaked panties along while rubbing the rim of it. You began clenching inside, desperate for this man to stick his finger completely inside. But before he could, the elevator had finally reached the 48th floor. 

“Let’s go.” Calum pulls your dress down and holds your hand once more to guide you to his apartment. You followed him through the lavish halls of the floor, taking a look out the window to see the mesmerizing sight that was New York City at night. 

“It’s beautiful,” you whispered. Calum looked over and nodded. You heard him fish out keys from his pocket with his free hand. He forced the key in to his apartment and opened it with ease. Calum lets you go as soon as you two enter, closing the door behind you two while you just begin to wander in. “Princess.”

“Mm?” 

Suddenly, two large (and now familiar) hands grab your hips and pull you back. Calum turns you and presses your back against the door. He grabs your wrists and hold them against the door as well, his large body surrounding you. “Finally,” Calum murmurs before he dips into the crook of your neck and drags his tongue on your neck. You let a moan slip, feeling Calum’s teeth begin to tug and tease your flesh with his tongue sliding on to ease the bit of pain. 

“C-Calum…” you force out. Calum’s tongue teased up your neck, his plump lips nibbling your ears. You clench your hands into fists, wiggling in his hold as his teeth grazed along your skin. But he halts to bring his lips to your ear. 

“Tonight,” Calum growls, “I’m Daddy.” Your eyes widen as he tugs your earlobe with his lips. “Do you understand, Princess?” 

You nod, “yes, Daddy.” Calum backs up a bit and holds your chin in his fingers. Although you two were in pitch black darkness, you knew he was smirking at you. He releases your wrists but takes your hand again to guide you through his apartment. You follow obediently, your heart pumping quickly from the rush. You weren’t foreign to one night stands, but this one feels different. This one was more exciting, with a thrill you haven’t felt in a long while. 

He brings you into a bedroom. That was clear as one of his walls were entirely of glass and allowed tonight's light to shine in. You notice a king sized bed with a bedside table and a few drawers. Any other detail was hard to tell from your gradual sobering as well as still being in a fair amount of darkness. He turns around and holds you gently by your neck. 

“Get on the bed,” Calum instructed. “I’m hungry.” 

Gulping, you quickly walk to the end of the bed and take a seat. Calum walks over and swallows you in his shadow, looking down at you as he grinned. He tells you to lay down, in which you listen and try to calm yourself down. You thanked yourself a million times for shaving before you went to Meri’s house tonight. As you tried slowing down your heart, you felt Calum unstrapping your shoes from your feet. 

“Mm?” You wiggled your toes to catch his attention. You heard him chuckle from the end of the bed as he frees your feet from your wedges. 

“I just wanted you to be more comfortable.” You knew that you two were supposed to be fucking, but his gesture was really endearing. You felt your heart warm up from how considerate he was to you. But that sweet moment quickly dissolves when Calum starts pulling your dress up and your panties down. “Spread your legs, Princess.” 

Obediently listening, you spread your legs apart. You cover your face with your hands, completely embarrassed by the situation. Calum’s breath tickled your inner thighs as he completely removed the panties from your body. The tip of his tongue first touches your clit lightly and you were already in shambles. 

“C-Calum…” you moaned. This made Calum stop to glare at you. 

“What’s my name?” He growled. 

“D-Daddy, it’s Daddy,” you pleaded with him. “I’m sorry, Daddy.” Calum nods in satisfaction after your apology and dips back into your pussy. You feel his tongue swirling around your clit, stimulating it. You felt waves of pleasure surge through your body, your hands returning to the bed to desperately grab the sheets. His large hands had to hold down your thighs to make you squirm less, his tongue rimming around the entrance of your pussy. 

But he quickly found that dull and brought one hand to your flower. Calum forces his middle finger in first, having you arch your back in pure bliss. Moans drip out from your lips as you hear the sipping and slurping sounds of Calum eating you out with his plump lips. He thumbed aggressively against your clit, beads of sweat began to collect on your forehead and neck. 

“Y-you’re going so f-fast,” you stutter, “it's t-too much…” 

Completely ignoring your breathless warnings, Calum laps his tongue around your clit. He digs two fingers into you, sending sparks all around. You pull at the sheets desperately, your breathing completely off tempo. He thrusts his long fingers in and out slowly, spraying some of your cum out onto the bed. “I’ll be the judge of that,” Calum’s hoarse voice speaks against your flower. 

Eventually, Calum bends his fingers at your g-spot right behind your clit and you writhe in pure euphoria. He smirks at your reaction and keeps doing it while circling around your clit (which had been gradually becoming swollen by his constant touch.) Your climax was closing in on you as Calum start leaving wet kisses all over your thighs, fingers still inside you. He slips his index finger in and you curl your toes. “S-so close…” you moan, thrusting a little bit to get his fingers deeper inside. 

He keeps going but immediately notices the thigh strap with your phone stuck in it. Carefully, he pulls it out of your thigh and puts it beside you on the bed. He’s intrigued by this and keeps it in his head while he continued to pleasure you. “D-Daddy, please,” you shrieked, your nails threatening to poke holes through his sheets. Then, seconds before reaching your climax, your euphoric state comes to a halt. 

Calum retracts all of his fingers and rises from the floor. You glance over to look at him, watching as he rids the tank top on his torso. Though it was still fairly dark, you could his flesh dent kindly to form his wondrous set of abs. You hear a soft snort before hands are offered before you. “Here’s your punishment.” 

Following his lead, he gets you on your feet and holds your face. Your toes adjust to the flatness of the ground as Calum purposely wipes away his lips drenched with your juices with his tongue. He continues to lick his fingers as well, stirring your insides just a painful bit more. This man isn’t human, you thought. He couldn’t be. “Get on your knees,” he murmurs. You widen your eyes, complaints already filing in your head.

“But you didn’t finish--” 

“Are you denying my order, Princess?” Calum growls. He pinches your chin and forces you to lock eyes with him. Goosebumps spread like wildfire as you shake your head. He smiles, “good. Now do as I told you.” 

Nodding, you slide down to the floor, your hands gliding down from his thighs. Your knees dug into the carpet, knowing that it’ll leave rug burns and bruises on them. Calum’s eagerness shows; his thick bulge was right before your very eyes. Your hands carefully undo the zipper like earlier, and your hands quickly pulled down the waist of both his pants and boxers. 

His cock hits his stomach and you could only bask in its largeness. Before you could indulge though, Calum pokes your forehead and reaches for something on the bed. You eye to notice your phone in his hands. “What are you…” 

Calum slides into camera mode and begins to take what you guessed was a video. As he smirked mischievously into the camera, his hand held the back of your head and encouraged you to begin. Both of your hands quickly wrap around his cock to help it into your mouth. A rough moan escapes his lips before switching the camera to record you sucking him off. You were somewhat anxious about it but the video was in your phone so nobody but you could access it. Plus it was dark, so how much could one really see? 

Calum watches wistfully at you as you suck him off the way you did in the car. But Calum was much rougher since he could dedicate his attention entirely to you. With his one hand, he forced his cock deep down your throat and sped up the tempo to his liking. Deja vu. Tears ensued once again, your hands holding onto his thighs so he could face fuck you with ease. 

You could feel his cock twitch inside your mouth, your eyes looking up at the camera above you. Calum had been smiling the entire time, knowing that his climax would be coming soon. Eating you out made his throb cock so hard for you and he wants nothing more but to fuck you. But he had to teach you a lesson. 

Precum slid down your throat, making you swallow around the tip of his cock. He stopped recording and tossed the phone back on the bad. He rested a hand on his forehead, euphoria completely taking him over. But he suddenly pulled you off his cock. 

“Mm.” A string of saliva kept your lips and his cock connected. You clear your throat, easing your throat from the face fucking. Calum grabs your hands and turns you around. With one hand holding the back of your neck and the other right above your ass, he bends you over the bed. 

“Do I have to use a condom?” He presses his body against your back to speak these words into your ear. 

“No, Daddy,” you reply. You were on the pill so there were no worries. Calum nipped at your ear happily before standing up straight. His large hands hold onto your hips, his fingers denting a bit for a good hold. He rubs his cock against your soaked pussy, his tip teasing your entrance dreadfully. “Fuck, please!” 

“Please what, Princess?” He’s a sadist. 

“Please Daddy.” 

You couldn’t see, but you knew for a fact he had a smirk painted across his lips. Without wasting another second, Calum thrusts right into your pussy. You hold onto the sheets, pushing them close together as you dig your face into them. His cock was stretching you harshly, but you wanted him deeper. Your insides clench around, hugging his cock happily to feel his length fuck you harder. 

“Fuck Princess,” Calum mutters. “I love the way your pussy wraps around my cock.” His waist slapped your ass, his hands instinctively going to give it a few spanks. It was too much-- you were seconds from cumming. Your squeals gave you away as Calum starts thrusting faster. “I’m gonna ruin you.” 

Your breathing couldn’t be controlled as you felt an exultant climax finally come. Your release coated Calum’s cock, but his cum was also filling you up. You moaned into the bed, trickles of sweat dripping down the both of you. The combined orgasms poured onto the bed and seeped into the sheets. Calum gave you every drop before pulling out. 

Exhaustion slowly began taking you over while you listened to Calum walk over to his bedside table. Your squinted eyes watch him retrieve two items from the drawer before walking over to the wall of glass. The last thing you saw was a cigarette being placed between his lips before you fell into a deep slumber. 

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

part 2 here

this is long as fuck but this is only the beginning. please let me know if it was any good or bad here and ill see yall in the next part

- gabby xo