#a sneak peek of my new room

[angelexotica]

12.10.23 ✨

[xxblairexxss]

A fresh start (p.2)

Pairing : Charles Leclerc x singlemom!reader

Theme : Tiny bit of angst, fluff

Word count : 4.7k

Part 1

In which Charles had a crush on the new member of the team without knowing he was already a good friend of her toddler.

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"Charlie! Charlie! Charlie!"

Joris cackled as he heard the tiny voice come from outside the room. His phone was no longer interesting as he threw a couch pillow to his sleeping friend on the couch, making him grumble and turn his position to the side.

“Charles,” Joris called out.

The driver hummed, his eyes still shut.

"Your little friend is looking for you.” Joris tilted his head when a soft knock came from the door along with the tiny voice, the same one that had been calling his friend from the garage.

"Charlie? Is there anyone inside?"

"Come in, Adam.” To that, the door slowly creaked open as the little kid walked in. He was holding a cute-looking carnosaurus in his small hand and peeked inside to find the friend he was looking for asleep.

"Oh? Charlie’s sleeping!"

Joris stifled his laugh as Adam started tiptoeing inside the room with his pointy finger against his pouty lips. "It’s okay; just talk like you normally do. Charles could sleep through an earthquake. Why are you looking for him?"

He scrambled his way on the couch with full struggle without letting go of the toy in his hand before he finally replied to Joris’ question. "I want to show Charlie my new watch! Look! It has a dinosaur on it!"

"Mommy bought it?” Joris queried. 

"No. Daddy bought it! It’s my first gift from him!” He giggled and squirmed when Charles softly poked at his waist as he slowly got out of his drowsy, somnolent state. "Charlie’s awake!"

"Charles, I’m heading out for a while. See you, Adam. Make sure Charlie doesn’t fall asleep anymore. He has work to do.”

Adam waved to Joris as he made his way out as Charles sat up, yawning from his short nap.

"Bye bye, Joris! Charlie, look!" Adam nearly punched him in the face with his enthusiasm. That would have knock the sleepiness out of him right away. The driver then focused on the watch Adam has been excited to show to him. It was a kids watch in blue with a picture of a dinosaur.

"That’s so cool! Did you go out with your dad?” He grasped the tiny wrist and scanned through the details of the watch.

"We didn’t because daddy was busy, but he bought me a gift!” Adam cupped on his own cheeks and swayed his body left and right, remembering what it felt like to hang out with his dad forever.

"My watch is cool too. Look." It was Charles’ turn to show his as he extended his arm, a cocky smile was plastered on his face.

"Yours doesn’t have a dinosaur like mine!”

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"Hey." He sneaked closer behind your back and leaned down, whispering in your ear. Charles had been trying to find you all alone so he could spend some time with you, but you were either hooked by a group meeting or had to be accompanied by a few other colleagues.

"Hi! Are you looking for Adam? He’s back at the hotel early with my colleague." You closed the door as he followed behind.

"No, I’m looking for you. You are not ignoring me, are you? Because I haven’t seen you since Friday."

"No?" You laughed as you saw him nearly slipped down the stairs as you turned back. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Almost died there.”

You then stopped in your tracks so he could walk with your pace by your side. "I’m not ignoring you. There were a lot of things I needed to get done before next month. Congratulations on the points, by the way!” You turned your body, facing the driver, as your ponytail swayed along.

"Thank you. It could have been podium if I got to see your face before the race." He cackled as you pulled a face at his flirty attempts. "Oh, Adam told me his dad took him out. You told me they had never spent time together. Why all of a sudden?"

The grin on your face was washed off instantly as you pressed your lips into a thin line. This whole thing about your ex-husband was never ending. "I..forced him to. Adam heard kids his age talk about going out with their dads, and he asked me what it was like. His dad kept on telling me he didn’t have money to take Adam out, so I gave him the money only for him to keep most of it for himself."

"So he didn’t actually take Adam out? Give me that.” You handed him the files and laptop bag you had been holding as he took them, leaving you with free hands.

"No. I found out later on that Adam told me he was busy, so they hung out in his house eating takeout while he watched a football match.”

"Adam seemed to be fully satisfied with it, though." He remembered the brightest smile he saw soon as he opened his eyes from his afternoon nap yesterday.

"He just wanted to spend time with him. I don’t know, Charles. I feel like…" It felt so hard to come up with any words that could explain your feelings. You wanted to say you wished you hadn’t made a decision to marry him, but you couldn’t imagine your life without Adam. "I feel like I failed at giving him the life he deserved."

"Don’t say that. Just because he was an irresponsible parent doesn’t mean you fail at doing your part.” He saw you asked for your stuffs and was hesitant to give them because his actual plan was to ask you to go back with him.

"I don’t know. Sorry for ruining the mood. I better get going.” You took back your stuff and were heading towards your friend when he tugged on your wrist.

"Will you be at home this week?"

You turned around and looked at him in confusion. "Yeah. Why?" 

“I just wanted to drop by."

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"Mommy, Charlie is here”! Adam tugged his little arm from your grip while you were trying to fix his hair, and he scampered, a little wobbly with his unlace shoes to get the door.

"Adam!" You yelled out and heard his little voice apologise for leaving you as he struggled to unlock the door.

"I can't—Charlie, I can’t open the door! Oh, it’s open!” He stepped back as Charles peeped in, making the little one laughed. "Your head looks like it’s floating!"

"Hey, munchkin!" He bent down and cradled his little friend’s head as Adam hugged his legs.

"Mommy said I should get ready because you are picking me up. Where are we going, Charlie? Mommy won’t tell me.” He shook his foot as the shoelaces flailing around him made him giggle.

"It’s a secret. You’ll know when we get there.” Charles crouched down and tied the shoelaces before he ran back to you.

"Mommy’s really not coming?"

You shook your head and continued fixing his fluffy hair as he leaned against your chest. "No. It’s just you and Charlie. I’ll be at home."

"Is it okay to leave mommy alone?"

Your heart melted at his worried face as he leaned away from hugging you. "I’ll be all fine, honey. I’ll call Charlie right away if I need any help."

"No! Don’t call Charlie! Call me!" He patted his chest proudly at the suggestion.

"You don’t have any phones, sweetheart.” You laughed and patted his belly.

"I’m using the same phone number as Charlie. Right, Charlie?" Adam looked up and pulled Charles’ finger to get him to back him up.

"Oh, yes! Ring me, and Adam will be the one saying hi.” Charles beamed at the sight of the little one attacking you with kisses before he made his way.

"Let’s go, Charlie!” He held Charles’s pinky finger as both of them made their way to the door, with you following behind.

"Are you sure you don’t mind taking him out?” You voiced your worry, though it was the driver’s idea in the first place. "I don’t want you to feel obligated just because we like each other.”

"It’s a casual hangout day between friends, right, Adam? Don’t worry about it too much, Y/N. I was the one who wanted to take him out. He—"

"Charlie, let’s go! He yelled out.

You gave Charles’ arm a squeeze as Adam pulled him to step out of the house. "You should go now. He’s all handsome and excited."

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"Charlie! Look at that!” He pointed at the long-neck creature on the left, which made Charles arch his brows.

It turned out Adam’s knowledge of dinosaurs wasn’t just ‘dinosaurs’. He knew every single one ever since they stepped inside the dinosaur land whole Charles had to continuously read every board so he could figure out the names.

"What is his name?” Adam blinked and waited for an answer eagerly.

"Oh? The name? I’m not—I'm not sure about that, buddy. Give me a second.” Charles went in front of the board as he scanned through the paragraphs. "It’s cama—what even is this? Camarasaurus?"

"I thought it was Isisaurus! It looked really similar!” Adam stared at the big, life-sized dinosaur sculptures in amazement.

“Isi—whatever the name was, does it have a long neck like this one too?” Charles was pretty sure this was the 50th dinosaur’s name that had ever come out of that little mouth, yet not only he remembered nothing, he could barely repeat any of them.

"Yes! But it’s not as tall as Brachiosaurus!” He squealed and ran a little far, joining a few groups of kids as the sculptures made another round of noise.

"Yeah, my brain is definitely shutting down.” He mumbled and fished out his phone, joining the little one as he looked up at a different-looking sculpture. "Adam, I’m sending a picture to mommy. Smile!"

"Charlie, wait! Can I show my watch too?” He made a little hop and fixed his watch as he lifted his forearm up to the side of his cheeky face, which melted Charles’ heart from the cuteness.

"There you go! I’m sending this one to mommy, yeah?" He chose the most recent picture and clicked on the send button, as it was ticked as delivered right away.

"Tell mommy I miss her too!"

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"Adam said he misses you."

"Also, how is he so smart? He kept on throwing dinosaurs’ names left and right without even seeing the board. I have never felt so humiliated in my life."

"Everything is just dinosaurs to me. I don’t think they deserve a name."

You cackled at the texts you got. When Charles took Adam out, you decided to get your hair done as well as a fresh set of nails with your girlfriends. You hadn’t seen your friends for a while, and it was really fun to be able to catch up with them, updating on whatever happened in each other’s lives. You smiled fondly as your thumb traced the picture of your son on your phone screen, showing off his little watch.

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"Hi, mommy!" Charles handed the little one a paper bag full of new dinosaurs with different shapes and sizes of boxes that were equally big as his frame after you opened the door.

"Look! Charlie bought me new toys!"

You gasped as you peeked inside the bag. "That’s a lot! Charles—"

"It’s okay. He only asked for one, but I wanted him to get the others as well because they are actually pretty cool. Right, Adam? There was this one that flipped its tail, like,”

"Ankylosaurus! The tail can actually move, mommy!” Adam interrupted, and his eyes sparkled with merriment.

"Yeah, whatever that rus was.” Charles scratched the back of his neck as he shrugged. He had given up trying to remember the name because, looking back, they all sounded the same. He was pretty sure he could just throw random words and end it with saurus, and he would get a new dinosaur’s name. While he was too busy recalling the names, you leaned in and left a peck on his cheek, which made him freeze.

"Thank you." You brought your gaze down and locked eyes with Adam as he giggled.

"I think Charlie really likes you, mommy!"

"Okay, buddy. There’s no need to say my feelings out loud.” He laughed as the little one ran to his room. The paper bag swayed and hit his body. "I hope I make his day.”

"Are you kidding? That’s all he’s going to talk about for the rest of the week.” You laughed along, and hands went on his chest as he pulled you closer.

"What did you do today? Did you do something to your hair?"

You brought your hands up and hovered them over your eyes. "I got my hair trimmed and my nails done. What do you think?"

"It’s pretty. Is pretty the right word to compliment nails?” He queried, brows knitted. "It compliments your beautiful eyes so much. Oh, I’ll be going back to Monaco tomorrow. Are you sure you don’t want to tag along until the next race? It’ll only be what, 4 days?

"No, I’m going to my parents’ house tomorrow. They haven’t seen Adam for a while. I’ll see you in the paddock?"

"Call me, alright?” Charles brushed his lips on your forehead and bended down as Adam ran back to his embrace. "See you in my next race, Adam."

"Bye, Charlie! I’ll take care of mommy for you!" He cupped Charles’ cheeks with his little hands.

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"I got it!” You heard Adam’s voice beat on you as he rushed to open the door.

You put your folded clothes aside and left the bedroom while he struggled to pull the big door with the doorbell ringing continuously.

"Daddy!" He managed to eagerly greet the adult before his little body was pushed aside as your ex-husband stamped inside with a scowl on his face.

"Fuck off. Where’s that bitch?"

"What is wrong with you?!” You howled and tried to walk past him to get to your son, who was on the floor, sobbing as he clutched his wrist.

"Me? What’s wrong with me, you asked? Tell me why my son’s face is all over the internet hanging out with a random guy. Are you fucking insane? Weren’t you the one who fucking begged to have full custody over him, and then what? You woke up one day leaving my fucking son with your douchebag just so you could what? Get these done?” He yanked your hair harshly as you yelped from the pain. "You trying to use all these to flirt your way just so you fill up that hole with fresh sticks?"

"Daddy, stop! You are hurting, mommy!” Adam stood back on and used every force to hit on your ex-husband’s leg just so he would let go of you.

"This isn’t about you! Fuck off, worthless.” He swung back his free arm and landed his hand on the flushed cheeks as Adam fell down on his bump.

"Leave him alone! Hit me all you want. Don’t touch him! Please.." You tugged on his arm back as you went in front to kneel down on the floor and cradled Adam’s head in your arms. His small arms immediately clung to your shirt as he hid his face away from his dad.

"Next time I’m seeing him hanging out with someone else, you’ll be dead. I’m still alive and capable enough to be his father. I don’t need someone else to take over my fucking role.” He gave your head a hard shove before he left as Adam wailed and whimpered in your arms. He had never cried this terrible before. He was trembling, even, that you had to calm him down until he fell asleep.

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"Where are you going?” Andrea curved his brow as the driver left the meeting right as it ended, without even sparing a glance at anyone else.

"I’m going to see Adam. He should have come and met me hours ago, but I don’t think I have seen him at all. I’ll be right back.” He took his phone and paced to the room where the kid would usually hang out with his colouring books.

Charles softly knocked on the door and waited for a response, which didn’t come. He then twisted the knob and took a step inside, where he saw Adam with the dinosaurs he bought for him a few days ago, all scattered on the table. Though the setting was normal, it was actually unusual because the kid didn’t call his name and didn’t come dashing into him as he usually did. Charles also didn’t get any candy from him today.

"Hey, Adam! What are you doing?” He took a spot next to the little one as Adam handed him one of the toys, one with a fierce-looking face.

"Hi, Charlie.. You can take this one.” Adam’s voice trailed off as he rested his chin on his forearm, completely ignoring the driver.

"What’s the name of this one?” The driver twisted the head of the dinosaur so it would be facing left before placing it on the table.

"That’s Spinosaurus.." 

"Adam, what’s wrong?" Charles ruffled the toddler’s hair to get his attention, which was working as Adam whirled his head to look at Charles. "You are not wearing your watch! Where is it?"

"It’s in my bag.." Adam rubbed his eyes and turned around to look at his blue backpack that was placed on the couch.

"Go get it! Let me help you put it on.” He patted on the flushed cheeks as the kid scooted away from the table and he tottered to get his bag, the. took his spot back beside the driver with the backpack covering half of his face. Charles helped him to open the bag as the chubby little arm fished inside it to get the watch.

The driver’s eyes widen when he sees the state of the watch. The acrylic glass watch was cracked; a few bits of the glass at the corner were long gone, revealing little holes straight to the numbers and watch hands with a dinosaur picture. The watch wasn’t even working anymore. It was clearly dead, as it was still pointed at 12PM. “What happened to your watch, Adam?"

The little one didn't say anything, but he started wiping the back of his chubby hands against his cheeks as the tears started flowing down uncontrollably.

"Did you fall? What happened?"

"Daddy…" He struggled to form any words and started sobbing; his shoulders shook as he breathed in. Charles pulled the little arms away from the crimson face, tugging on it as Adam stood up so Charles could hold the trembling little frame in his arms. "Daddy.."

"Charles, you need to get ready.” Andrea peeked his head inside and closed the door back as he ran back to the garage.

"Adam—" Charles breathed out.

Adam pulled away and wiped his wet eyes with his forearms before the adult could continue his sentence. "Good luck, Charlie!” He managed to form a smile and make a little fist which was still a little shaky as he silently wept

"I’ll find you back in here after the practise round, alright?” He wiped off the stray tears and softly pinch on the cheeks, which made the little one giggle.

"Look!" He stumbled back to his little friends and arranged them all to face drivers, stopping time to time to wipe off the tears and clapped his hands as he was completely satisfied with the presentation. "They said good luck to you too!"

"I’ll definitely ace the practise round for you and your... um, rausus friends. Don’t cry, alright? See you, munchkin.”

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"Adam, we are going back, sweetheart.” You walked to him and kissed the crown of his head as you took his backpack.

"But," He stood up and filled his arms with the row of reptile toys as he tilted his head to look at you. "But Charlie asked me to wait for him, mommy."

"I thought you were hungry, love. We are going to eat.” You bent down so he could stuff his toys inside the backpack.

"It’s okay, I’m not hungry! I can wait for Charlie.” He gave a little thumbs up and chuckled when you laughed.

"Alright, then. We’ll wait for Charlie."

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"Charlie!" Adam squealed when Charles walked in, around half an hour after.

"Hi! Oh, you are all packed?” He ruffled Adam’s hair and smiled as his gaze landed on you on the couch.

"We are going to eat! Can Charlie join us, mommy?” His small hand was secured in Charles’ grip as he grinned cheekily at you.

"I can’t, Adam. I need to stay back a little while because I have things to do, but I’ll see you in a few hours. Is it okay?” He looked up to you, silently waiting for your approval, as he didn’t want to bother if you wanted to rest.

"Of course. I’m sure Adam doesn’t mind. Right, Adam?" The end of your mouth tilted as you looked at the little one while you took the lead, walking out of the room, followed by the boys.

"Yes! Oh! Charlie, were you fast?” Adam stopped walking as he waited for Charles’s answer.

"What do you mean? Ah, the practise round? Yeah! I got first place thanks to you." 

"And my friends!” He jumped out of excitement; the sound of the toys shaking against each other could be heard as the backpack moved.

"Yeah! And you too.” Charles winked at you, which made you roll your eyes with a beam.

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"Hey, pretty. Mind if I take Adam out?” Charles went straight away with his question the minute you opened the door to your hotel room.

"Right now?" You blinked.

"Yeah, just for a while. We’ll be back before dinner. Just text me what you want to eat.” Friday wasn’t as packed as other days. He normally would stay in his room to take enough rest before another practise and qualifying round tomorrow, but he spent hours trying to find the closest store on Google, and the nearest was just a few minutes away so it would be a waste to miss this chance because he knew he wouldn’t be free by tomorrow, moreover on the actual race day.

"Adam?" You called out, opening the door a little wider.

"Yes, mommy?" Adam came running, his voice a little shaky from his wobbly cheeks.

"Charlie is taking you out for a while. Is it okay for you?” Your hand went to the back of his head as he hugged your leg. You saw his face light up as he waved at Charles.

"Okay!" He agreed right away and grasped Charles’ hand. "But where are we going?"

"Somewhere. Let’s go before it’s closed!"

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Charles looked down as he heard Adam giggled. "Charlie, look at that! The puppy is so cute!” He giggled again, and his steps became more leisure as he waited for the fluff to walk past him. "The tail was like,” He shook his free hand vigorously to imitate the tail, which made Charles throw his head back and laugh and they continued walking.

"Oh! There’s flowers!" He pointed at the flower shop in front of him, seemingly to be very intriguing to the little one, as he stopped and tugged on the driver’s hand. "Can I buy one, Charlie?"

"But what? The flowers?" Charles looked at the flower shop in front of him and back at the kid.

"I want to buy one for mommy! Oh, wait..." He patted his small hand against the pocket of his pants and pursed his lips. "I don’t have any money..”

"Let’s go." He took the lead and went into the shop as Adam looked around, looking amazed at the selections.

"Hi! How may I help you?” The florist greeted them, bending down to greet the little one.

"I want to buy flowers for mommy! She likes yellow!” Adam replied, his gaze followed the florist as she took a single sunflower from her left.

"I think your mom will like this one!"

"Yes! Charlie, can I get this one?” He looked up and swayed his little hand that was in Charles’ grip. "Please?"

"Can I get it in a bouquet, please?” The driver’s request was being done right away as she went to get a bunch of the flowers to get them wrapped up in craft paper.

"Please make it pretty too!” Adam added.

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Charles and Adam walked into the store as the driver greeted the owner, while the little one looked around with the bouquet in his arm that he insisted on holding.

"Hi. I texted you earlier regarding the item?” He came up to the counter while the owner got himself busy as he went to get the item that was mentioned.

Adam stayed silent, his hand still holding Charles’ as he softly sang what he believed was a dinosaur song while playing with his foot. “I'm a dinosaur, dinosaur! Oh, I am a dinosaur..." Charles had to bit his lips to hold his chuckle so he wouldn't interrupt the little performance and tilted his head back as the owner walked back with a small, square box.

"Would you like to try it first?"

"Yeah." He retrieved the watch and bent down, cutting off Adam’s little song. "Adam, try this one."

He looked down at what Charles had in his hand and squealed. "It’s a dinosaur watch! It’s a dinosaur watch! Is it for me?"

"Yeah! Let’s put it on you.” He hopped in place, unable to contain his excitement, while Charles secured the green-coloured, brand new watch around his plump wrist. "Do you like it?"

"Yes! Yes! It looks like a stegosaurus!” He pointed at the frame, which sort of looked like the plates of the dinosaurs.

"That’s what I thought too. I just couldn’t remember the name of the dinosaur.” He stopped Adam’s little hand as he tried to take it off in order for him to put it back in the box. "It’s okay. Just keep on wearing it. You look handsome, munchkin.” He the continued with the bills as they walked out to the final place of the day to get some takeout for dinner.

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"Hi! Did you have fun? You moved your head away from getting hit in the face with the plastic that was wrapped around the flower bouquet that your little one was holding.

"Mommy, look! I bought this for you! Oh, Charlie did.” You took the flowers as he hugged your neck.

"Nah, he bought it himself. I should definitely step up my flirting game.” Charles walked inside after you and locked the door as Adam and you settled on the cosy couch.

"It’s so pretty, sweetheart! It’s mommy’s favourite colour too.” You hugged the bouquet in your arms and pecked at his little cheeks, as the green coloured thing that was secured on his wrist caught your attention. "Oh? What’s that?" You asked, taking his left arm closer to you.

"Oh! Charlie gave me this new watch! It’s so pretty, mommy! Look!" He seemed to remember about the watch now only when you pointed it out, so it was his turn to carry on the conversation. "It has dinosaurs at the back and here too! He pointed at the green dinosaur by the strap and squealed.

You looked at Charles as he stared at Adam lovingly, which made you smile, before focusing back on his little chat.

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"Is he asleep? He scooted a little to the side so you would get comfortable in his arms. He had left you to tuck Adam in while he played around with the remote control, switching from channels to channels as he waited for you to come back.

"Yeah." You rested your head on his chest after you made yourself comfortable on the couch, eyes staring at the television. You felt his hand on your back as he leaned his cheek against your hair. "I don’t think I could ever pay back everything you did to him."

"I’m not doing it just so I could get something back in return, love. Don’t be silly.” He then went silent for a while, wondering if this was the perfect time to bring up the topic. "Why didn’t you tell me what happened?"

You breathed in, knowing he would bring it up sooner or later after Adam told you he cried in front of the driver earlier. “It was a few days away from the weekend. I didn’t want you to worry about something else when your focus should be on your career." You looked up and saw him look in dismay at your words. "I’m sorry."

"There’s no need to argue about something that has happened.” His hand cupped on your cheek as he dipped his head to kiss your forehead. "I called my lawyer to ask him to get you a restraining order against him. Perhaps this way it will be easier for you instead of waiting for a response from the authority."

"But—"

"I’m not taking a no this time, Y/N. He told me he would need you to fill out a few forms as well as physical evidence; can you do that?” He gave your shoulder a squeeze as you sat up straight to look at him.

"Yeah… I do keep some evidence from his text messages and police report, but Charles, I don’t think I could afford to pay your lawyer.”

He frowned as he tilted your chin up. "Did I even say anything about money?  All I said was forms and evidence, Y/N."

"But you had done more than enough. I can’t—"

"Okay, then be my girlfriend.”

"What?" Your words were stuck in your throat as you looked at him in disbelief.

"That’s the only way I’ll accept a payment from you. Be my girlfriend when we get all these things settled."

"Silly." You scrunched your nose, hand went to pinch on his cheek as he laughed before pulling you to lay down with him and spend the rest of the night without having to worry about a dinosaur’s name.

“You know what, I kept on humming Adam’s dinosaur song. I think it’s stuck in my head. Do you happen to know the full song?”

“I can send you the video with lyrics?”

✧.* general tag list! @i83andrew @cltrlne @karmabyfernando @ohthemisssery @ru-kru @tastebaldwin @f1obessed @love4lando @shinrjj @ietss @leclerc13 @darleneslane @buckybarnessweetheart @xcinnamongirl @boiohboii @formula1mount @judespoision @alwaysclassyeagle @scenesofobx @mrsmaybank13 @vildetry06 @harriesgolden

✧.* tag list for p.2 @mrsmaybank13 @xjval @coffeewhore18 @ireallywannasleep127

If your usernames were crossed, meaning I can’t tag you! Let me know if you would like to be removed or to be added to the tag list! Or if I missed anyone!

[too-deviant]

freaky friday

OR… that one time you woke up in luke castellan’s body, told from the perspective of percy jackson.

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Fem!Demeter!Reader

Word Count: 4.2k

Content: the most loser loser!luke has ever loser-ed. this is sooo unserious like pls.

꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷

Percy Jackson had only been at camp for a day, but he was completely sure that something was wrong. 

It started early Sunday morning — well, when he thought back on it, he guessed it might have started late Saturday night, when he woke up to a few of the older campers (Luke included) sneaking off out of the cabin and not coming back until the sun was peeking through the horizon. 

But he didn’t really think about it until Sunday morning — when the thing that startled him out of sleep was a loud shout of  “Holy Fuck!” echoing from the bathroom. He sat up, startled, and eyed the door along with everyone else. Then there was a yelp. 

“Oh my gods. No — this is, this isn’t real. Am I still — oh don’t touch that. That’s not yours. Jesus, Luke — No. Stop looking. Oh my gods.” 

A few campers shared some wary glances, asking the silent question of who’s going to investigate? Eventually, Chris (Percy thought, one of Luke’s friends from yesterday), stood up with a sigh and a raised brow, stepping over sleeping bags until he stood outside of the door. He looked at them all, the curious eyes of literally every kid there, and knocked slightly. There was another yelp. 

“Uh…” Chris blew out a puff of air, “Are you okay in there?” 

A few seconds of tense silence, then the door cracked open and Luke Castellan stuck his head out. He looked at Chris, at all the kids staring at him, and smiled stiffly, “I’m good. Don’t worry about me.”

He shut the door once more, the force blowing Chris’ hair back for a brief moment. The boy shrugged and nodded at everyone else to start getting ready because it was almost time for breakfast. He headed over to Percy, asked how his first night was, and left him to gather his bearings before they had to leave. 

The kids attempted to forget about Luke’s debacle in the bathroom, but when they started to get impatient about his hogging it, all disregard of his personal business went flying out of the window. One kid mustered the balls to knock, and then another shouted through the wood for him to hurry up. 

Just as one of the Stoll brothers was about to pick the lock himself and check out the situation, the door flew open, and Luke frowned at them from the doorway, “I’m done, my gods.” 

They looked at him — he was leaning against the now open door, hip bucked out and not a care in the world that he was in nothing but his underwear. He glanced at them, then at the kid who Percy thought was called Conor, and sneered in his face until the kid flinched back. When he did, Luke pushed the bathroom door until it hit the wall and gestured dramatically inside, “In you go.” 

Percy didn’t think he was the only one who was shocked by Luke’s sudden show of attitude. Sure, he’d only known the guy for a day, but he’d been super nice the whole time. Even when Percy was ready to give up on finding his skill, Luke was supportive and kind. Now, he just looked irritated at everyone in the room. Maybe he wasn’t a morning person. 

Yeah, that was probably it. 

Percy decided to let him wake up a bit instead of irritating him with questions about how the morning routine at camp usually went. Instead, he followed the lead of the kids around him and got himself ready before lining up along the wall. His face bloomed red when someone had to tell him to go to the back because he was new, but other than that he was doing somewhat alright. 

Chris and Luke were arguing quietly in the corner, being careful to ensure nobody else could hear their murmurs. At one point, Luke stepped up so he was nose to nose with Chris and the boy put his hands on his chest to push him back — only for Luke to sharpen his eyes down at them with such a scandalised look that even Percy was slightly confused from where he stood and watched. Luke folded his arms over his chest indignantly and Chris sent him a dumb look before muttering something that made Luke straighten and drop his arms once more. 

When the boys ceased their conversation and walked over, the kids pretended as if they hadn’t been watching their entire time

“Okayyy.” Luke spoke, huffing out a breath. He shot his hands out and waved them, “Let’s go.” Nobody moved, and he furrowed his brows, “Uh, onwards and upwards? Hop to? En guarde?” Silence greeted him and he rolled his eyes, clapping loudly, “Can yall just fuckin’ move?”

The kids at the front flinched slightly, deciding it best to just leave rather than wait for him to say his usual morning pick-me-up. Clearly he was having a bad day and they chose to leave him to his own devices. Percy followed at the back, and couldn’t help but listen as Chris muttered to him once more from behind him. 

“Can you at least try to act like a normal person, please?” 

“I am acting normal.”

“Luke Normal.” He paused, waiting. Percy guessed Luke must’ve agreed silently because the next thing he said was, “Thank you. Now get to the front of the line like the cabin counsellor you are.” 

Luke huffed, pushing past Percy to get to the front of the line. Chris followed, whispering something about Luke having a bad day and to just ignore him before jogging to catch up. The blonde boy had never felt so awkward — the only friend he’d made and the guy was skulking around like he hated the world only twelve hours after they’d met. 

He tried to brush it off by focusing on his breakfast — blue pancakes, blue cherry coke. Okay, not the healthiest option but he was having a bad weekend, let him live. 

Chiron came to find him a bit after that, asking Percy how he was settling in and if he was ready for the Capture the Flag game they were playing later. 

After that, Percy tried to avoid the prying eyes of Annabeth by spending his free hour in the Hermes cabin where she couldn’t get to him — only to walk in on something a lot more awkward. 

Luke was lying on the floor, groaning in pain. The smiley Demeter girl he had introduced Percy to the day before was on top of him, also groaning in pain. 

“Uh, are you guys okay?”

They flinched, scrambling off each other and pulling themselves to their feet. Luke brushed himself off and looked at Percy wide eyed, “It’s not what it looks like!”

“Seriously.” The girl said when Percy raised his brow. She shook her head slowly, “We would never —“

“Yeah.” Luke scoffed, “Like never ever.” 

The girl — Percy was still trying to remember her name — turned her head and looked at him blankly, “Okay. That wasn’t needed.”

“I’m just clarifying.”

“You didn’t need to sound so disgusted about it, though.” 

“Oh my god.” Luke scoffed a chuckle, shaking his head, “You’re such a guy.”

Percy screwed up his face, and Luke suddenly backtracked, “Uh, I mean — such a lie…er.” Even he looked confused by what he’d said. He straightened up and scoffed, waving his hands, “She wants me so bad. Right? Bro?” He held out a fist, but Percy just looked at it. 

The girl, who had swiftly knocked his hand back to his side and stepped slightly in front of him, smiled kindly like she had yesterday when she’d asked how Percy was feeling about the sudden change in his life. “Sorry for scaring you, Perce. We’re just talking about something. Did you have a question?” 

“Yeah, actually.” He looked at her, “Are you in pyjamas?” 

She looked down at herself like she was just remembering her white tank top and fleece pyjama pants with bats printed on them, and Luke laughed into his fist. Upon hearing his chuckles, she swivelled back to glare at him, “Hey, don’t laugh at me! Would you rather me undress you?” 

“What?” Percy asked. He was ignored. 

Luke took a step back and held up one finger, “Uh, no. I don’t need you looking at my tits, perv.” 

“What?” Percy tried again. 

The girl scoffed, looking away from him and muttering under her breath, “Kinda hard not to when they get hot in the night and climb out of your shirt.” 

Luke gasped and put his hands to his chest, “Oh my gods.” 

“I tried not to look but they were right there — !”

"Well — " Luke stammered for a rebuttal, eventually pointing in accusation at the girl beside him, "You had morning wood!

"What — ?!"

“Hey, guys!” Percy finally interrupted, and they looked at him in surprise like they’d forgotten he’d been standing there the whole time. “What the hell is going on?”

The two shared a look, but it was you who stepped forward and looked at him kindly, “Nothing you should worry about. You’ve had a tough weekend already, just pretend you never saw us.” 

Percy was tempted to refuse and force them to spill the beans, but they were two older campers who could very well send him to detention or whatever it was they did here for punishment — he wasn’t keen on finding out. So he left with a nod and closed the door behind him. 

Your voice drifted through the window, “—can’t believe you wear batman pyjamas.”

“At least I wear pyjamas.” Luke responded, “You left very little to my imagination this morning.” 

He walked off before he could hear anymore. 

He didn’t see either of you again until just before lunch. He was walking through camp with Grover, half-listening to his friend yap about a blueberry bush he thought was cute, when they passed you and your sisters giggling about something near the forges. 

“Gods, he’s cute, though.” One of them was saying, eyeing up a boy with soot all over his face. Percy couldn’t see much of him to determine him as cute, but your sisters seemed to agree with a loud dreamy sigh. 

“He is, don’t get me wrong.” Another girl added, “But consider this: Lee Fletcher.”

“Oh, yeah.” 

“He’s got potential. He’s got potential.” 

Percy found himself slowing down, the teenage boy in him wondering if someone would mention his name. Of course they wouldn’t — he’s twelve, and they’re all around yours and Luke’s age, but a boy could dream. 

One of the girls clicked her tongue, looking at you, “Who was it you said was sorta dreamy the other day?”

Percy watched you freeze, suddenly looking very awkward. You took a deep breath in and pretended to think about what you were going to say, but one of your sisters chimed in for you.

“It was Astor. The Ares kid with the curly hair.” 

“Oh yeah!”

“What?” You exclaimed, scrunching up your face. When your sisters looked at you all confused, you backtracked, “Uh, I mean yeah he’s…cute.” You forced the word out with difficulty, “But, I dunno. There's cuter guys out there.”

“Oh?” Your sister said, interested, “Who are you thinking?”

Now you were on the spot. You swallowed, making these exaggerated facial expressions that Percy assumed were you trying to convince the girls that you had just come up with this idea, when you’d actually probably been wanting to say it the whole time you’d been talking and just needed an excuse, “Oh, I don’t know…” You shrugged, “Luke Castellan’s sorta…y’know?”

The girls looked between each other, and you watched with slight anticipation. Then one of them, the one who had mentioned Lee Fletcher earlier, said, “I swear you said he was too full of himself.”

“What —?”

“Yeah, she did.” The other chimed in, “You said he would be cuter if he didn’t — what was it? — flaunt around camp like he had the biggest cock out of all of ‘em.”

The girls laughed, and you attempted a weak chuckle, but it sorta looked like you were in pain. Percy thought it best to walk off after that, looking for Grover who had long since left him to his eavesdropping devices and presumably wandered off into the forest to look for Blue the blueberry bush. 

So maybe Percy should’ve pressed harder when he’d cornered you and Luke earlier that morning. He thought he could brush it off, even when he kept seeing Luke lift up the hem of his shirt and poke at his abs in wonder, or when he saw you pushing your hair out of your face once every ten seconds before finally putting it in the messiest ponytail he’d ever seen. It was as if you had lost all sense of self overnight, like you'd never actually seen your own bodies before. It creeped him out, but he held back on asking. Maybe it was a demigod thing he hadn't been taught yet.

The straw that broke the camel's back, however, was after dinner. Usually when the nymphs take the plates away and the campers start to trickle down to the campfire, a few odd groups would stay behind at their tables, gossiping or finishing their desert until they had to get up and go — not only were you and your siblings part of this group of people, but so were Luke and Chris (and, by default because he had nobody else to hang out with, Percy). 

So the newcomer had the fortunate opportunity to bear witness to possibly the greatest series of events he’d ever seen (and he once saw a rat the size of a small dog eating a small dog). 

It all started when a girl from the Aphrodite table stood up and walked over to where the boys were sitting. 

“So, if you do ever want to sneak out to the forests, don’t go through the pavilion.” Chris was explaining, “Mr D has a birds eye view of the whole place from his bedroom window, so you gotta sneak as close to the Big House as you can get. But make sure to duck under the windows just in case Chiron is trotting around in there.” 

“And be careful around cabin four.” Luke butted in, “They have vines that spring out of the floor whenever a non-Demeter kid gets too close during the night.”

Chris turned to his brother with a look, “How do you know that?”

“Oh, uh — ”

“Hey, Luke.” 

Three heads turned to the edge of the table where she was standing — a pretty girl with short blonde hair, a few strands dyed pink near the front. She was smiling at Luke cheekily and Percy noticed Chris send his brother a smirk. 

“Uh, hi…” Luke trailed off, squinting.

“Laura.” She finished with a frown.

“Laura!” He exclaimed, snapping his fingers. “I knew that. I did.”

“Cool.” She said slowly, brushing off the moment and bouncing around the table to sit next to him on the bench. She leaned on her elbows into his side and Percy watched him shuffle back, only for Chris to push him right back forward. “So, uh, I had fun…last night.” She side eyed Percy across the table, but the boy just pursed his lips awkwardly. 

“Really?” Luke responded, a little shocked. He nodded, “Well, uh, me too?”

Laura grinned widely at that, back straightening, “I’m so glad we agree.”

Percy wasn’t so sure Luke agreed, he wasn’t even sure the guy remembered whatever saucy interaction she was referring to. But he was pretending to, for her sake. He blinked at her silently, but she just looked as if she was waiting for him to say something — Percy was only young, but he’d seen enough movies to know that she was waiting for him to suggest they do it again sometime. 

He did not. Instead he twisted his body away from her and back towards Percy, smiling at him, “Wanna head to the campfire, get some good seats?”

The boy was moments away from responding, but Laura clearly wasn’t taking his silence as an answer. She pulled Luke back to face her by his arm and blinked up at him, “I was just about to suggest we skip the fire tonight. Just us, y’know?” 

Chris cleared his throat and stood, ushering for Percy to do the same, “Let’s go, lil bro.”

“Wait — “ Luke stood with them, staring back with a silent plea of help. Chris wasn’t having it, just grinning at him. 

“Have fun, Luke.” He snorted, “See you later.” 

“No, you can’t — ” He started, but Laura was yanking him back with a high pitched giggle. 

“You heard him, Luke.” She smirked, “No one's gonna notice we’re gone, loosen up.” She ran a slow finger down his torso, and Percy watched him visibly tense up. He didn’t understand why she hadn't taken the hint already. 

Chris seized Percy by the wrist and began to pull him away, occasionally looking back and giggling like a schoolgirl, with the odd snort. The younger boy didn’t really want to look back, but then when he heard Luke yelp like a girl, well…

He had to. And thank the gods he did.

Luke was sprawled on the table like a scared rabbit and Laura was standing with one hand hanging limply in the air, looking confusedly at his stance. Chris burst into loud laughter when he noticed Luke’s legs were spread and the boy was trying really hard not to look at his own crotch. 

They walked over when it was clear someone needed to intervene, and Percy noticed the Demeter girls from before joining them — you were at the front, looking panicked and slightly annoyed.

"What's going on?" You asked, looking between the two of them.

"Nothing." Laura said plainly, "We were just talking."

Luke looked at you, “She — uh, she grabbed your — uh, your — ” 

He gestured between his legs with a shaky hand. Percy raised a brow, as did everyone else at the scene. Except for Laura, who began to cackle loudly, bending over at the hips and bracing her hands on her thighs. The rest of the kids stared at the pair with varying expressions, and Laura straightened up, wiping under eyes with a giggle before pointing between you and Luke. 

“You guys — oh my gods — ” She laughed again, shaking her head and trying to breathe long enough to get her words out, “Holy Hades, Castellan. I’m — I’m sorry.” 

She held her hands up in surrender, looking at you now, “I am. I didn’t know you guys were dating. I guess I took mine and Luke’s conversation the wrong way, but — ” Another wheeze, “And I shouldn’t be laughing, but he just referred to his penis as yours, and I — ” 

“Laura, it’s not like — ” You stepped up with a wince, trying to alleviate the growing tension between the group. The Aphrodite girl wasn’t listening. 

“I just think that’s the funniest thing I’ve heard since…” She took a moment to think, catching her breath and smiling at herself as she thought about it. Eventually, she gestured to you with a laugh, “Well, since last night when you called Graham Lee an extra-terrestrial ass-kisser.” 

Luke licked his lips, taking a deep breath in and pushing himself off the table and to his feet. He went to say something to Laura, face serious, but then he stopped and knocked his head back in a slight movement. He looked around at nothing, as if he was recollecting a memory, and then he gasped and pointed a finger at you, “I did do that.”

“You called Graham Lee an extra-terrestrial ass-kisser?” You tilted your head at Luke, “Why?”

Luke shrugged, “He grabbed my ass.” 

Laura scrunched up her face, looking between the pair of them, “Are you guys on drugs?”

"There aren't any drugs at this camp." You blanked. You brother laughed.

"Says the drug dealer."

You raised a brow in shock, like you'd had no idea about your own small business. You looked at Luke intensely -- Percy thought maybe you were trying to keep your drug dealing thing a secret, and Luke had gone and spilled the beans. That would explain why he suddenly looked so sheepish. It wouldn't explain why you then said, "Well I am not on drugs."

"Then what is wrong with you guys?" Someone finally asked the question Percy had been sitting on since he watched you hover your hands over your own boobs before retracting them quickly as if it was against some demigod rule to touch your own body — only for Luke to see from afar and have some very stern words to say about it.

Finally, after ten seconds of intense eye contact, you and Luke took in simultaneous breaths. It was you who spoke first, addressing the whole crowd — which consisted of Percy, Laura, Chris, and the Demeter kids — “We’re in eachother’s bodies.” 

The Demeter kids made grossed out faces, but Chris just snorted into his fist and let the conversation go on. Percy had never been more confused in his entire life — and he had once thought his dad was Jesus. 

Laura chuckled, “Yeah, we know that. His penis is yours, or whatever freaky shit yall are up to.” 

“What?”

“No — ” 

You and Luke spoke at once, each taking a single step forward. You paused, looking at each-other until you gestured at Luke with a sigh, letting him speak. He nodded, “We’re serious. We are in each other's bodies.”

“Freaky Friday style.” You jumped in before anyone could make a sex joke. You sent the group a sharp look, and then zeroed your eyes in on Percy, “That’s why we were acting so out of it earlier.”

It was silent for a long stretch — everyone looking between one another. Percy didn’t even know what to say. It did explain their strange behaviour, but —

“How the hell did you end up in each other’s bodies?” A demeter boy asked, holding a finger up like he was in class. The rest of them nodded, wondering the same. 

“Well…” Luke sighed (or You sighed, he guessed. He was still confused), “At first we had no idea, but now I think it was Graham Lee.”

Another Demeter girl hummed, “He is a Hecate kid. It’d make sense that he put some freaky spell on you after you insulted him.”

Chris coughed, still red in the face from laughing into his shirt, “Okay, but why Luke?” 

You shrugged, “Dunno. I’ve never done anything to the guy.”

Suddenly, Laura let out a long, “Oooohhhh.”

Everyone eyed her. She pursed her lips in embarrassment, although Percy definitely saw amusement in her eyes. She tucked some hair behind her ear and winced, “So, maybe we went to the clash together.”

“The what?” Percy asked, finally speaking up. The rest of the group looked at him as if only just realising he’d been standing there, suddenly looking sheepish. 

“Uh, it’s a party.” Chris scratched behind his ear, “Older campers only, but if you don’t tell anyone about ‘em you can come to the next one.” 

He shrugged, “Deal.”

“So, wait.” You pointed at Laura, “You went to the clash with Graham? Like with him?” 

“Yeah.” She folded her arms indignantly, “But he was literally staring at you the whole time, so I left to flirt with Luke.” 

Your cheeks dusted pink, and both Laura and Percy realised she was talking to Luke, not you. She turned to Luke, clearing her throat, “Sorry. He was staring at you the whole time. So I left to flirt with…uh, Luke.” 

A collective breath ran through the group, everyone putting the pieces together in their own heads. Percy was still a little unsure, but he had the gist (maybe). Just as he was about to suggest they go find this Graham guy and ask him to undo his spell, one of the Demeter girls Percy had seen talking to you earlier gasped and looked between you and Luke with wide eyes. 

“So when we were talking before…” She looked at you, “We were talking to Luke?” 

You — or Luke, but as you — stammered, and Percy couldn’t help but let out a little laugh. Luke looked on, confused, and the girl looked at him with a smirk, 

“Earlier, we were gossiping about hot guys.” She chuckled, pointing at you, “And Luke suggested his own name, as you!” 

“What?” Luke exclaimed at you, partially appalled but also holding in a laugh. 

You stammered for an excuse, but then her face contorted and she zeroed Luke with an accusatory stare, “Well, you said I walked around camp acting like I had the biggest cock out of them all!” 

Luke scoffed, “You do.” 

“I do not!”

“You kind do.”

“Yeah, you do.”

“You sorta do, man.”

You turned to Chris, scandalised, “Bro.”

The boy shrugged, “Sorry man. It’s true.”

Eventually, you managed to convince the kids to finally go to the campfire and leave Luke and yourself to fix your problem with Graham when you got down there. They agreed, although not without making as many jokes as they could on the walk down to the clearing. 

“So, how did you guys pee?”

“Have you seen each other all naked and stuff now?”

“Did Luke have morning woo — ?”

“Alright.” You smacked Chris hard on the back for that one. “To your sections, please.”

Percy sat down on the end of a log, and watched as the two of you walked over to Graham and spoke to him in hushed but harsh tones. At one point, Graham was looking between you two with the most genuine look of confusion and Percy assumed he only agreed to reverse the spell because it was making his mind go all wobbly just talking to you. 

When he saw Luke again, it was at lights out. Percy was tucking himself into his thin sleeping bag when the boy came over, crouching to his level and dropping something on his lap. 

He lifted the bag of coins to his eyeline and then raised a brow at Luke, “What’s this for?”

“Drachmas.” He explained, “Just enough to get you a new shirt at the camp store. Or a thicker pillow, some three ply toilet paper. Whatever you want, really.” He shrugged, “Partly a welcome to camp gift, partly hush money.”

“Right.” Percy lowered the bag and levelled Luke with a curious look, “How was being in another person’s body? Weird?”

“Oh yeah.” He nodded, looking into the distance like he was having some awful flashbacks. Percy remembered seeing you walk out of the bathroom earlier, a look of terror plastered in your eyes. 

He cleared his throat, “Well, thanks for the money.”

“No problem, kid.” He patted him on the shoulder, “Get some rest. It’s capture the flag day tomorrow and guess what?"

"What?"

"We're teaming up with Demeter."

[maiko-san]

Catnap + Dogday x Reader ( Part 3 )

<<< Part 2 , Part 4 >>>

Relationship: Fluff

Warning : Hurt/comfort

Character focused : Catnap, Fem! Reader

Plot : Even though you manage to win Catnap's favour through treats

A/n : As a reminder, Catnap is Theo who is a 7 year old child during this period. He's the youngest out of all Smiling Critters in my headcanon since he was the last smiling critter to be shown by MOB!

"Here's your treat for the day! You did even better than before, I'm proud of you!"

Catnap has been doing quite well recently. Giving him rewards after he did his job does the trick pretty well.

Guess one way to someone's heart is through food was a thing after all.

Catnap sits there as he stares at the food you've given him.

You were busy looking through your clipboard to even notice that the feline hasn't left his spot.

Catnap always questioned himself, why do you care about him?

Almost all the staff here ignore him completely as if he never exists, except you.

He is considered as a troublesome mascot to deal with, even before he was Catnap.

Just why....?

Why do you waste your time on him when you can focus on other mascots?

Catnap likes how you treated him. You were gentle as the others had said.

You finally notice the purple feline hasn't left the room, usually Catnap would slip away immediately after he gets his treat and eat it somewhere else.

"Is there anything else I can help you with?"

"...."

Catnap only looks down on you with those beady white eyes, before tilting his head slightly.

The feline mascots got on all four without breaking eye contact with you, he leans his face close to you and says.

"Why?"

"Pardon?"

"Why do....you care about me.......?"

You quirk an eyebrow at his questions, yes his file did said he was troublesome but why did he ask such a question?

"It's simple, it's my job to take care of each one of you. Not only just that, I want to be your friend!"

"You....want to be my...friend?"

"Yeah!"

The only close friend he had was Dogday and The Prototype, he wasn't that close to the other Smiling Critters since they rarely interact with him.

But the idea of having a new friend makes him happy.

He has a new friend. Catnap picks you up by surprise and holds you high up in the air.

Your body went stiff as you cling onto the mascot's paws for dear life. You weren't used to being picked up by the mascots yet. You're 20 ft in the air!

"You are my friend now...."

Catnap said with a wide smile on his face with his tail standing up straight behind him.

He feels very happy!

From that day, Catnap would sneak around to see you and to cuddle with you.

Every time you scratch under his chin, the feline would purr very loudly and you swore that it would cause the entire office to shake.

Sometimes Catnap would be a menace and push things off the desk just to mess with you.

There is one time you decide to play peek-a-boo with the feline mascot, which turns out to be horrifying and Catnap would get closer every time you take a peek.

But it was a fun game.

Catnap mostly spends his day in your office, with him curling around your desk and has his tail wrapped around your leg, so you couldn't go anywhere while he's asleep.

"Catnap...I need to go to the bathroom..."

"....."

"Catnap, please"

Don't get you started when you caught him trying to fit himself in a small box. It was hilarious and cute at the same time.

Like Dogday said, Catnap is a friendly and sweet cat.

Seeing how he acts around you reminds you of your days in the orphanage. Yes, you were once an orphan, seeing these smiling critters reminded you of the younger orphans that you used to take care of. The way they act brings up old memories in your mind.

You wish to see them but the orphanage you once lived in no longer exists due to financial problems just a year after you were dismissed.

The residents around the place told you that they were moved to someplace else, which the location remained unknown.

You hoped that they were able to find a perfect home and have loving families.

TIMESKIP

You're looking through the files, you have done with all the Smiling Critters except for Catnap....

Your supervisor doesn't let you check on him for a reason.

In his file, Catnap is stated as 'Dangerous' and only a high-class personnel is able to do a maintenance check on him.

You always wonder why though....

They would bring him somewhere and return him to the playcare a week later, he would come back looking exhausted and malnourished.

His fur isn't as soft as the other critters, it was rough and matted, sometimes you could smell the scent of burned....flesh on him and also a hint of blood too.

Also, Catnap always has new wounds on his body. Especially his wrists and chest area, like he was prodded by something. Which worries you a lot, what did the higher ups have done to him?

Once the playcare is closed down for the night, you sneak into his hidden room so you could give him a proper treatment.

"It's alright, just rest as much as you can"

"It hurts..."

"I know, I'll do as much as I can to make the pain stop. I-I'm sorry that I couldn't do anything to help you, I wish I could've done more...."

It was heart wrenching to see Catnap this way, his head is huddled close to your body as he seeks comfort in your embrace.

The sound of his weak purr was the only thing that fills the silence in the small room.

After 6 months working for the Playcare you came to realize that these smiling critters are able to bleed....

Pickypiggy cut herself up when she was using the knife during one of her cooking sessions on her stage. Poor Picky bleeds a lot from the cut and you had to stitch her up and bandage her wound.

You had a suspicition that the higher ups are hiding something, something sinister and dark. You had asked some of your coworkers/seniors about it but they just dismissed you.

Saying that you grew TOO attached to these mascots and start to see them as real people.

The sudden shift of Catnap brings you out from your deep thoughts.

"Can you sing me....a lullaby, my star....."

"Of course"

A/n : I added a little of Reader's lore here :D. Thank you for enjoying the chapters so far!

I have a headcanon for the smiling critters which is—

That they don't remember about their previous lives as a human until 'The Hour of Joy' happens, the only Smiling Critters that are aware of it is Catnap/Theo himself.

So, after 'The Hour of Joy' happens, the smiling critters start to remember their past lives and from the moment they become more aware of their existence and barely clinging on the last bit of sanity they have left.

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

[7:09 pm]

(cw: parents!au)

Every parent knew what silence meant. Silence meant some huge mess was being made, someone was hiding, being mischievous, general mayhem being had. This was especially true in your home with your daughter and 3 cats. It was never this quiet in your house with the four—five troublemakers in your house. It couldn’t be the main troublemaker because he was sitting right next to you, fully invested in a a reality tv show.

“Jaemin, listen,” You said quietly while you muted the tv.

He looked at you quizzically, “I don’t hear anything… what could she be doing now?”

“It’s not her nap time yet, I have a very bad feeling about this,” you replied nervously.

Your daughter had a sweet face, she was nice and friendly in public. She always waved at strangers with a huge smile on her face. She knew to stay by your side when she wasn’t sitting in a shopping cart. She very rarely threw tantrums, a perfect little angel. People had even told you so.

In the comfort of your home on the other hand, she was hyperactive and loud. She wreaked havoc on the daily. And the cats were either right her side or far, far away from her. There was no in between. When the cats decided she was being too much your daughter would try to climb their scratching posts to reach them or pull on their tails. The poor animals. When they decided to help her the house was loud, something got destroyed, scratched, or simply broken.

The last time the 4 of them had joined forces you needed to buy a new bookshelf for the living room with all new frames for the pictures that filled up some empty spaces on the shelves.

“Rock, paper, scissors to see who goes,” Jaemin offered. You rolled your eyes but complied. Softly hitting your fist against the palm of your hand. One paper and one rock, you lost.

“Wish me luck please, and have your credit card ready to shop. Oh my god, I think I’m gonna be sick,” you muttered, standing from the couch and walking toward your daughter’s room, but not without pouting and sending pleasing looks to your husband.

You tiptoed quietly to her open door and took a peek inside. Oh good, she was playing with her baby dolls. Wait, since when were they covered in fur?

You ran back to the living room whisper yelling, “Honey, you have to come see what your daughter is doing!”

Jaemin tilted his head back and shut his eyes, “why is she only my daughter when she’s being naughty?”

“It’s not even that bad, no new furniture. Just come see!” You tugged on his arm until he was up and quietly sneaking behind you.

You both peeked into the open door and watched as your daughter swaddled up one of the cats, Luke. And he liked it! He was purring and nuzzling into your daughters small and unusually gentle hands. “Ok baby! It’s time for a nap!” She told the cat before placing him in her toy bassinet. The poor doll who it belonged to could be seen face down under her bed.

“And for the other baby, it’s lunch! Time for your bottle,” she told Luna, picking up the cat and holding her like a newborn while holding a toy bottle to the cat’s mouth. And poor Lucy was sitting on a doll bed with a bonnet tied below her chin, but she looked unbothered.

“I think the cats… like it?” Jaemin whispered in confusion.

You looked at him, “weirdly enough, I think they do too.”

You and Jaemin continued to watch the four of them play and interact. They were all calm and playing happily, until, she turned and caught sight of you.

She bounded over to you and jumped into your arms, knocking the wind out of you.

“I’m practicing!” She smiled brightly.

“What are you practicing for, baby?” You asked her, moving some hair out of her face.

“Daddy said he’s going to get me a baby brother! So I have to practice being a good big sister!” She smiled, stating it like it was obvious.

Your fave dropped, looking at Jaemin with a raised eyebrow, “did your dad say that? That’s news to me. What else did he tell you, baby?”

Jaemin’s face dropped and your daughter began spilling all their secrets. How he always bought her candy before ballet, they sometimes snuck some ice cream together after you were asleep, Jaemin put sugar in her cereal, and how he promised her new toys if she didn’t mention anything about a new sibling. “Do I still get my toys daddy?”

“Uh! No! She would not be getting any new toys!”Jaemin yelled in his mind.

“You can ask daddy later, he’s about to be in very big trouble.”

[httpwintersoldier]

opla men hc || you tease them with a short skirt

ᴢᴏʀᴏ ; ᴍɪʜᴀᴡᴋ ; ʟᴜғғʏ ; sᴀɴᴊɪ ; sʜᴀɴᴋs ; ʙᴜɢɢʏ

ᴄᴡ: ᴘᴜʙʟɪᴄ ꜱᴇxᴜᴀʟ ᴀᴅᴠᴀɴᴄᴇꜱ

ᴢᴏʀᴏ

⤷ when zoro sees you parading around with that skirt hanging dangerously close to your ass cheeks, a whirlwind of emotions goes through him

⤷ he wants to stand behind you to cover you so no one else can see the way your ass revealed slightly when you walked, he wanted to lift it slightly and get a better look, he wanted to pick you up, carry you to his bedroom and fuck you senseless...

⤷ so many scenarios and all he could do was silently play the scenarios in his head over and over as he shamelessly stared at your ass

⤷ it all changed when zoro noticed you'd bend down only when he was watching, you'd sway your hips playfully and bounce back and forth jiggling your ass on purpose

⤷ you were teasing him

⤷ once zoro puts 2 and 2 together he just chuckles

⤷ the swordsman comes behind you, grips your waist and pulls your ass against his growing erection

⤷ "I'm gonna love to see this during the rest of the day, because I'm not fucking or touching you until you're on your knees, begging"

ᴍɪʜᴀᴡᴋ

⤷ the second you step out in the miniskirt mihawk smirks

⤷ he instantly knew what you were doing, and smirked - mihawk found it... amusing

⤷ the man loved to see how hard you tried to bend over and expose your ass, desperately trying to get a reaction out of him

⤷ mihawk enjoyed how hard you were working to get his attention

⤷ most of all, he did love the view - the way the skirt almost gave him a look of your pretty panties huggung your ass beautifully...

⤷ "once you've had enough of teasing me, do meet me in my room, it's my turn now"

ʟᴜғғʏ

⤷ luffy is oblivious to what you're trying to do, but either way he doesn't care because he was too focused blatantly staring at your ass

⤷ his eyes were glued to your rear, often brushing against the bits of your cheeks that peeked out of the small piece of fabric

⤷ luffy doesn't care who's watching, if he wants it he gets it, so if he wants to grab your ass, he will

⤷ you didn't think luffy would sneak his hands under your skirt and grab your ass, but he did, several times

⤷ it made it hard for you to maintain your composure, especially when he wrapped his arms around you and laid his head on your ass, sneeaking a couple bites in

⤷ he will get very protective, whiny and jealous if he sees other people looking as well though

⤷ "I think I wanna try some new stuff, y/n"

sᴀɴᴊɪ

⤷ he didn't even care that you were teasing him

⤷ sanji's hands were all over you the whole day, groaning in your ear and whispering praises and dirty things every time he passed by you

⤷ he would find any and every reason to come behind you and brush his crotch against your ass

⤷ would definitely pull you into a dark corner in the middle of the day and fuck you from the back against a wall while he covered your mouth so no one could hear you

⤷ sanji would cum on your panties and make you walk around with his cum sticking to your pussy

⤷ "how many rounds do you think you can handle, my love?"

sʜᴀɴᴋs

⤷ shanks loves it

⤷ he obviously knows what you're doing and you knew he'd catch on so you're not exactly discrete with your plans either

⤷ shanks would make little sexual comments here and there (and would praise you equally as much)

⤷ he wouldn't mind the constant boner throughout the day because he'd love the show you'd be putting on for him

⤷ the man would absolutely love to see the way your crotch squeezed in between your legs when you bent over (and he would definetily tug your panties to the side to "take a peek" while you bent down)

⤷ ass smacks the whole damn time

⤷ will be thinking of all the ways to fuck you at the end of the day and will make sure to whisper all of them to you

⤷ "I'm gonna fuck you for the exact ammount of time you've been teasing me for, how does that sound?"

ʙᴜɢɢʏ

⤷ oh buggy loves it

⤷ he doesn't even care that you're teasing him

⤷ buggy loves it when you put on a show for him and he loves it even more if you do it in front of others - he wants to show off how lucky he is, how he gets to fuck someone so beautiful and only he can do it

⤷ he would groan at the sight of you asscheeks and panties

⤷ buggy would beg you to sit on his lap while he was on his throne

⤷ the Captain would praise you constantly as he caressed your body and admired the way your ass sat against his cock

⤷ you'd end up riding him on the throne

⤷ and after he'd cum in you he would just wrap his arms around you and have you cockwarm him

⤷ "where can I find more of these pretty skirts? We need to get you some more..."

[beejunos]

SPEAK TO ME | Sneak peek [Alastor x f.reader] | SMUT (mdni)

Summary: Alastors voice turns you on. Something he loves to take advantage of.

If you want you read the full story, press THIS LINK

Did someone ask for an Alastor voice kink fic?! This is only a sneak peek! I hope to finish this little smutty story in about two days.

Halfway through your night routine, you turned on your radio at a soft, pleasant volume, and Alastor's smooth voice filled the otherwise silent room. 

"Salutations, friends and hellish residents! Tonight, we have a splendid assortment of the latest news and the best Hell has to offer in jazz, but before we chitchat about our dear city's hellish affairs, here is the newest music from Miss Jezebel and The Wicked Six!" 

Slow and sultry jazz music started to play on the radio. The woman who sang had a deep, smoky quality that was inherently sexy to you. There was just something about women who sang with deep voices that made your hips sway from side to side, effortlessly dancing across your room as you started to strip, pretending there was someone there who enjoyed the show you put on. 

You turned off all the lights except the small lamp by your bed and crawled under the thick blanket. You left the radio on as you made yourself comfortable, hugging one of your pillows close to you. 

The song ended, and Alastor came back. This time, he started talking about the news. Since the news sometimes made you too sad to sleep, you never really listened to what he was saying; you only listened to his voice—his tone, the cadence of his speech, and his transatlantic accent. 

You let his voice wash over you like a soothing balm to your aching body, but soon, you felt the familiar tingles run up your back. Warmth pooled low within you as you shifted in your bed, lying on your back. The desire to touch and be touched grew in you, to move, to grind, to satisfy the urge for sex. 

Closing your eyes and letting your hands wander over your body, you start by slowly dragging your fingertips over your sensitive throat, making sure that your light fingertips touch all the places that made you weak. 

Your hands travel from your throat down to your chest. Palming your breasts in your hand, you drag your nails over your sensitive nipples. Pinshin, pulling and rolling them between your fingers till they are warm and hard. 

Your senses sharpen as you start to feel more intensely, but your mind goes hazy, making it hard to think clearly. Alastors voice is but background noise now that edges you on.

One hand stays on your breast as the other journeys down, down, down and under your underwear. 

You slowly drag your finger between your lips, coating your finger in your wetness as you slowly pull it towards your clit. A breathless gasp is pulled from your mouth the first time your finger comes in contact with your sensitive clit. Slowly and with the lightest touch, you start to circle the organ, and what feels like electricity builds in your loins.

You can't help but move in your bed, legs bending and toes curling as you give yourself the pleasure that you wished Alastor would provide you. Your hand that previously played with your breast joined your other hand, and you let out a not-so-subtle moan as you pushed two fingers into you. Desperately, you curl your fingers inside you to increase the pleasure. 

You want it. You need it. Your toes curl almost painfully as Alastors name falls from your lips like a prayer. 

You're so close. So close you can see stars behind your eyes. You breathlessly chase that sweet release. Building, and building, and building. Your legs are shaking as you bite your lips. Hips lift from the mattress as you fight the urge to close your legs.

You are so, so close.

"What are you doing, my dear?" 

Cold dread crashes through your body as you rip your hands away from your body. You frantically look all over your room in the shadows. Looking for that all-knowing smile and calculating red eyes. 

His voice had been so close and clear that he had to be in your room. It had felt like he had spoken to you right beside your ear. But you were alone. No one was in your room but you. 

"Such a naughty little creature you are, my dear. So desperate to be touched." 

Goosebumps travel up your back as you slowly turn in the direction you hear his voice. On your nightstand is the radio that Alastor gave you. It is still on, but the yellow light of the display has turned red. 

Towering over you in your bed, you almost feel like he is watching you. Observing you as you lay naked in your bed. Your blankets were by the end of the bed as you had kicked them off a long time ago. 

"Can't even listen to me talking without having to touch yourself. My oh my, what will I ever do with such a bad little doe, hm?" 

Shaking all over, you reached for the radio's electrical cord and jerked it out of the outlet. The radio fell silent as you collapsed in your bed. Spent, but not satisfied. However, you soon start to tremble over the fact that Alastor had listened to you pleasuring yourself, and he seemed to like it.

[rosiesmuts]

The Temptations of Jennie Kim

BLACKPINK Jennie

Words: 4,000

A/N: Boo! 👻

Jennie Kim is a pure unadulterated bitch.

Obstacle one is making it past the bouncer; having your name on the guest list makes that an easy task. Obstacle two is the sea of people; a VIP wristband solves that little inconvenience. Your expected prize for completing these side quests is a night of dancing, ending with divulging in the salacious body of a world famous idol. The light at the end of the tunnel is anything but. Obstacle three is something you couldn't see coming. That world famous idol has already found her seat, only it's on the lap of another man.

Your mind goes a million miles a minute trying to figure out a plan:

1) 'I should go up and confront her.' No, causing a scene wouldn't be good for anyone.

2) 'Fuck this I should just go home.' No, I can't let her just win so easily.

3) 'Fuck it, I'm already here, might as well grab a drink.' I guess this is the winner.

Probably not the best plan, but the one you've chosen.

"Don't tell me you're obsessed over her too."

An unfamiliar voice. Your eyes follow the voice, finding yourself face to face with a beautiful woman. It shouldn't be a surprise, this club is crawling with them. Too busy wallowing in your pity to notice her join your table and too late now to do anything about it.

"Huh?" Admittedly not the most suave response, but it's the one that comes blurting out.

"Jennie. Half the guys here are just sitting here staring at her, what's so special about her anyway?"

"Are you really surprised? BLACKPINK is a pretty big deal. Besides I want staring I was just-"

"Look at yourself, you're even sneaking in little peeks while talking to me."

Her hand is placed under your chin, forcing you to finally take a good look at her. You start to speak but she cuts you off.

"What’re you drinking?"

"Whiskey."

It's rare to see a woman take control. And here you were, sitting face to face with one. She flags someone down and orders you a fresh drink.

"What's your name?" You regret your lame choice of ice breaker the moment it's said out loud.

"Unimportant. Let's just have some fun and see where it leads."

Maybe there is a god. So far nothing you've said could be constituted as smooth, yet here she was, still giving you a chance.

Where things led was more surprises: first, a dance. A hot body pressed close and shaking, accompanied by a mind clouding cocktail of scents. Your eyes dart all over her: the glow of the mysterious woman's pale skin under the multicolored lights; her plump lips; her toned midriff.

"Still thinking about Jennie? I think you've got enough room to squeeze me in."

Both her hands come to rest at your hips, gently pushing yours forward and squeezing your body closer to hers. Your eyes lock, the music from the club fades out, and you find yourselves with your noses an inch away. This insanely hot girl, not the one you intended to spend tonight with, but not the worst thing you can think of right now. The tip of her nose brushes yours and her hands push forward one last time, the kiss can only be delayed a second longer.

"What the fuck are you doing?!"

Jennie Kim has some nice timing. Just when you were about to give into this other woman, there was a tug on your shoulder and you're spun around–Jennie Kim's face, contorted with a mixture of anger and jealousy.

"You. Step the fuck back, he's not yours." Jennie shoves her hand out to your impromptu date, but that was apparently not an adequate barrier to keep her away. The girl comes up and wraps around your arm, not allowing Jennie to steal you away.

"He was until you got in my way."

"In case you didn't hear: step the fucking hell away." Jennie is nothing short of livid. People have stopped dancing, staring at the unfolding scene. Your new date notices the attention.

"Fine! He's not worth it anyway." And just like that your new acquaintance storms off, her hips and the smoke trailing from the bottom of her black dress being the last you'll ever see of her.

"Walk. Right. Now." Jennie drags you towards the hallway, likely intent on either berating or maiming you somewhere in private. In any other scenario it would sound like the fantasy of every man in South Korea, but right now you know it's bad.

A private room behind the dancefloor, a much better place to be killed and your corpse dumped than in front of hundreds of witnesses. She shuts the door with a slam hard enough you think it might shatter and locks it with an unnecessarily loud click.

"Who the fuck was that? You've only been here two minutes and you're already on top of another woman?!"

"Hey, hey, fuck you Jennie. Do you know what I saw when I came here? After you invited me? Oh you were totally there, sitting on another man's lap."

"That's not the same."

"Not the same my ass. Can you even begin to explain what it is then? No of course you can't. Because you're a spoiled fucking idol who does whatever the fuck you want."

You turn to leave, but are pulled back and receive a rough slap across the face. There's no pain, only the sudden red color filling up that side of your vision. She did it again. This time it brings with it the burning sensation. A stinging radiates across your cheek, an angry mark that burns more as the adrenaline fades.

Then in almost cliche like fashion you grab her face and slam her into the nearby wall, returning her slap with an aggressive kiss. Jennie doesn't try to pull away, in fact she gives just as much as she receives. If her jealousy made her slap, her frustration makes her kiss harder, her teeth digging in slightly at her efforts.

"Someone is still obsessed with me hmm~?"

"Fuck you." The reply is snarled out through the tears in your teeth.

"Why don't you? Make sure everyone out there knows who you belong to. You weren't even interested in that slut anyway. All you could think about was me."

Any rebuttal was silenced the instant a hand traced the outline of the bulge forming in your jeans. No words need to be said; she's right, there's only her. Her face, her smell, her voice. Jennie bites your collarbone through the shirt to try and get a rise and boy does it. A firm hand groping her behind and pulling her into you, meeting the hardness growing in your jeans. Jennie chuckles, enjoying the reaction.

"Do it. Go ahead."

Jennie fucking Kim. The girl of your dreams. The girl of your nightmares. You've fallen into her trap. What's happening right now can only be described as karma's cruel payback, an attempt to dangle your greatest desire right in front of your nose–before a final humiliating insult is slapped on it.

"You little bitch." Jennie taunts you, unraveling her flirtatious intentions as her skirt rides higher and higher along with your patience. "Go on. Put me through the wall. Pull it out and fuck me as hard as you can."

It would be too easy, wouldn't it? Giving her what she wants after what she did. Instead she's dragged to the couch and bent over you knees. Jennie yelps in surprise, before realizing what's coming to her.

SMACK.

"I didn't say stop." Jennie responds after feeling the forceful slap at her backside.

Another. Jennie cries out, before letting the sweetest sounds come tumbling out of her mouth. Your palm raises once more, pauses, and then swings down and impacts against the exposed skin. A large pink spot forms on the exposed skin as a result and you're starting to think Jennie is actually getting turned on.

"P-please."

"Well since you asked so nicely."

Her panties are brushed to the side and two fingers plunge in and begin exploring without any warning. Jennie squeaks and curls up at the sudden and bold invasion, but it doesn't take long before those two fingers find the sweet spot and stimulate a cascade of pleasurable electricity. In and out they go, aided in their efforts by the squelch of their occupant's excitement. The couch rocks as Jennie arches and bucks wildly, alternating between sporadic whimpers and full on screams of delight.

"I'm so close...so so close..."

Your fingers pull free then another smack against her ass again, interrupting her moment of bliss.

"You think you deserve to cum Jennie? Hmm?"

Jennie answers with an arch to her back, a long, sensual moan that turns into a low pitched growl.

"Yes...Yes...just let me cum please please."

She's grinding at the air, her desperation on full display. You're just a few seconds away from finishing her, of making this cute bitch cry out and go rigid as waves of pleasure radiate all the way from her groin to the rest of her body.

"Feel that pressed against your stomach Jennie? I think you need to suck it. Prove you deserve it."

Her feet meet the ground as she kneels between you legs, and with a final lustful glance, begins to pull away the zipper to your jeans. "You're a real fucker aren't you? Fine, I'll show you."

Down goes your underwear, tossed to the side of the couch, and up Jennie comes with the heaving package in her face. A tiny lick along the bottom of the shaft and then a more robust and adventurous one the entire length. No preamble this time, only the sudden heat and wetness as the girl with a history of petty remarks envelopes your member, coiling her tongue around the sensitive areas and sinking further into your lap.

This girl, Jennie Kim. How can she be so talented at such a crude act? The walls of her mouth shift in a thousand ways as she draws a throaty groan out of you, her tongue expertly knowing all the ways to drive you crazy. This fucking bitch, going deep, purposely drooling all over it, and looking up in satisfaction as she gags and chokes. Up and down she goes, swallowing and sucking back a mouthful every single time she rises. The picture perfect idol, loving nothing more than a throat full of cock, a wide streak of mascara under her eyes and spit all over her face.

The room grows ever hotter, the look in Jennie's eyes begging, imploring for you not to hold back. You sit upright and clutch onto her hair, fingers locking as tight as possible to guide her, taking charge of her bobbing head, sending yourself all the way up to your pelvis. Her arms are limp, her face is a mess, you've reduced a famous singer and model to a panting wreck, and that sight is almost too much.

"Fuck my mouth..." the pleads of the famous superstar when you let her up for air. Her request is granted, her hair gets pulled and the momentum carries your pulsating member all the way to the base. Inch by inch, millimeter by millimeter until the tip of her nose touches the pubic bone and her jaw is stretched as wide as possible, the outline of the member embedded into her throat.

The unholy gags are the hottest fucking thing ever. And the little flutters, her struggle not to cough, the spasms. Jennie Kim, proudest bitch alive. Choking and gagging on your cock, no thoughts in her brain of anything else but to please. She loves it, she wants it. More, more, more, always more, begging with her eyes the only way she could.

With a heavy gasp, you finally let up, letting her burning lungs draw air. While she is a coughing wreck, her face slick with tears and saliva, the thought that fills the forefront of her mind is exactly what's about to happen. The thrill, the idea, the exhilaration, she can't contain the giggling smile.

Jennie was a bad girl, touching herself while you fucked her face, showing off her fingers covered in her own juices and licking them clean. This woman was going to be the end of you, that smirk.

"You and that stupid ass cock." Jennie takes matters into her own hands, straddling your lap, lining up the tip. She's in control, now she'll decide just how far you'll sink into her.

"Dumb fucking whore." Your fingers wrap around her delicate neck. Her eyes widen, not in fear, but in excitement. They darken, her pupils dilating, the clear response to the aggression is reflected in a quickened pulse under the flesh. It isn't surprising the more forceful you get, the wetter she seems to get.

And holy fuck it feels so fucking good, Jennie's lower lips engulfing your tip. The walls of her cavern part and pull you deep within her, her breathing changes pace and volume, whimpering and panting as it sinks in further. She's warm, she's welcoming. Every inch is a bit tighter, the friction causing your heart rate to rise, and her arms, encircling you in a vice grip, coaxing a tighter hold on her throat. You can almost see the lightheaded effect it's having, the subtle shifts in her vision, the dream like daze that accompanies such euphoric sexual bliss.

Up and down Jennie bounces, the tempo of her breathing just a second out of synch, every moan coming just a second later. You don't try to hide your own pleasure either, groaning with a volume only a centimeter away from yelling and definitely noticeable beyond the walls. With a firm slap to the ass, her pussy responds in the best possible way; squeezing tightly for a moment and sending a pleasant shiver down your body.

Jennie fucking Kim. Her tightness, her perky tits, the fucking supermodel and worldwide heartthrob, riding you. That's a story to tell. The sight of this gorgeous bitch bouncing up and down like her life depends on it, the sound of flesh colliding reverberating throughout the room.

Her cries of pleasure come louder, with no sign of the fun ending any time soon. Another thrust and her eyes roll to the top of their sockets. The adorable scrunch in her nose, the contortion of the expression of carnal pleasure, the euphoria right after. The small smirk in the corner of her lips and the grinding of her hips into yours. She's close. Her face gives that away. Her walls pulsate, and if that doesn't sell it the pitch change of the moans certainly do. Her noises shift in timbre. Whines and loud whimpers, the sudden erratic nature.

There's no stopping her now, it's out of your control, and it's fucking beautiful. Jennie fucking Kim, cumming on your lap. Her thighs begin to spasm, a waterfall of juices spilling all the way down to the floor, pooling around your ankles. That fucking face, a cacophony of ecstasy. Then with one final, powerful groan, she suddenly stops. Her eyes shoot open and she curls up, freezing and grinding away. You pull her hair back, forcing the perfect idol to bare her neck and shriek, as her orgasm consumes her senses, her legs thrashing about and toes curled into their arches. Jennie fucking Kim came, her face red and a smile creeping upon the ends of her lips.

It's not over, not even close. Jennie's face a mask of desire, her breathing deep, still needing more, the short, panting breaths catching the tiny pieces of her hair waving across her face.

"Fuck me like you mean it." Jennie goads you on. Your hands wrap around her tiny waist, fingers digging into her flesh, and you start thrusting. Up into her body, down into her lap, each of her downward drops meeting a upward thrust, your hips meeting hers halfway. In no time her squeaky noises are echoing against the walls, your pelvic bones colliding hard, both of your bodies jerking about as you throw everything into each pump. Her eyes turn dark, a drunken gaze. Fuck yes, those lips curling back into a naughty, crazed smile.

"You can't fucking resist it can you?" Jennie screams the question, feeling your hands force her up and slam her back down with your hips surging forward. Her whole body lurching backwards from the impact and then snapping forward from the following motion. Another one, the smack of flesh meeting flesh resounding once more and the squirt of liquids spraying the air and wetting the sides of the couch. Jennie no longer cares, letting her body get fucked and then roughly jammed downwards and impaling herself repeatedly, filling the room with the loud slaps.

"You're nothing but a fucking whore aren't you?" You say it directly to her face and as expected the deprecating talk turns her on like nothing else. A genuine laugh followed by a growl and a "you want this tight pussy all for yourself?"

And another smack, a spank and a squeeze of her delicate ass. Her neck tilts backwards. Yes! Look into those deep pools, her gorgeous, intense stare. Losing control, that face, her mouth, it's open and wet and covered in saliva. That cute kittenish tongue sticking out of the edge of her lips.

Another thrust. Jennie's body flies forward from the impact, a lustful grin stuck on her face, burying your face in her small tits. Her chest jiggles with each pounding, a single moment of freedom followed by an instant of being engulfed in their softness. Those perfect mounds of flesh, enough to drive any sane man or woman mad with obsession, bouncing inches from your eyes, sweat coating their supple surface. Her giggle erupts and she sees that dumb smile plastered all over your face. Her nose rubs against your own. The stare is intense.

"We really fucking hate each other huh?" Jennie teases then goes in for a kiss. A sloppy, messy affair, her nails dig into your back, leaving a series of scratches as her pussy tightens around the engorged member within her. She's cumming again, the contractions drawing out another series of grunts.

"That's right, keep your dumb cock buried inside, you fucking love this tight pussy."

Oh how far this idol has fallen, the foulest mouth coming out the prettiest lips. Then she whispers in your ears to hold her hips tighter and fuck her harder, and fuck did you deliver. Her throaty groans filling your ears, a crescendo and a rapid beating pulse under your palms. You're close, this little superstar making sure you're as deep as you can be and clinging for dear life.

Jennie's hands wrap around your throat, squeezing, choking the life out of you, your vision blurring, and at the same time she's squirting a second wave and shaking violently. Her hips never stop moving, fucking herself silly. She doesn't stop, the nasty smirk has returned and a mumbled string of 'fuck fuck fuck' under her breath.

Jennie fucks you. Those perfect abs, her slim body, the smell of sex radiates all throughout. You're getting lightheaded, this cute piece of ass a violent whirl of raven hair and painful grip. The harder she orgasms, the harder she squeezes your neck. Then, stars start filling your field of vision and your vision goes white, the pulses start firing. Sick sadistic oxygen depravation brings one of the hardest orgasms in your life. That twisted smirk of the psychotic woman, the evil in her gaze as the heat fills the pit of her belly. She feels it, your load splashing inside of her womb. As you release, so do her fingers, the blood rushing back to your brain not a moment too soon.

Her expression, oh how proud she is for her conquest. You couldn't look anywhere else, this perfect devil in front of your eyes. The cute, tingly and erotic feeling flowing from your groin, it never stops and only grows, the continuous shots, emptying everything you have into her. This little fucking bitch, controlling you until the very end.

Jennie fucking Kim sits satisfied as you gasp for air, a mixture of confusion, satisfaction, and pleasure overwhelming your body. That beautiful little smirk, her hips rolling about, enjoying your final twitches before everything softens.

"See, now tell me that wasn't worth the wait."

Jennie collapses forward, a content sigh, a murmur in your ear about how her body feels. Your legs and feet tingle, a sort of numbness and buzz from the powerful waves of euphoria. Jennie stretches like a cat, all while nuzzling against your neck.

She leans in for a kiss, soft, gentle, uncharacteristically kind. Fingers thread into her hair, your palm resting against the side of her neck. She's warm, and tired, the once energetic and brash girl now settling down, almost vulnerable.

"You know why I keep coming back to you?" Jennie seems almost kind, running her hands through your hair and looking at you with loving eyes.

"Must be my big cock." You tease her, pinching her bum, and stealing another kiss in the process.

"Of course you can't be serious for a single fucking minute." Jennie shoves her shoulder against yours. "No you idiot. When we fuck, it's so fucking good. And look at you. Trying to act all tough, but when I tell you to fuck me harder you do just that. And when I tell you just like that you don't change pace for a moment."

The affection, her soft words. Jennie Kim loves to act hard, to show herself off. There's the world's most famous pop star, snuggled into your shoulder. Her finger tracing along the outline of your chin, the last few beads of sweat dripping down her forehead and her eyelashes. Jennie almost looks sweet, smiling down upon you. That signature gummy smile, the tiny dimple on one side. How can someone so rough, have such a charming side?

"Give me your jacket fucker."

Now this, this was much more of a Jennie thing to say. What a cute and silly request after something as passionate as what the two of you did. Jennie's sweat soaked body. Your brain is a fog, still lost in the moment, struggling to take the demand seriously, still looking at those flawless thighs, now tinged pink.

"I can't leave this place looking like this. You're taking me home. Don't think I'm done with you yet." The look in her eyes, that mischievous glimmer. A girl bent on devouring you. Her knee pressed against your crotch drives you back into reality. "Did you not get the fucking memo? Hurry the fuck up."

There is no shortage of nerve in this girl, and fuck if her confidence and commanding tone isn't doing anything for the part of your brain in charge of desire. If anything, you know she's not exaggerating, she still isn't fucking done. Not by a long shot.

It'll be another long night, the same pattern of anger and lust. Spoiled fucking idol Jennie Kim, turning you into a fucking puppet. Letting you do the strangest things to her in the middle of the night. That bitch. That perfect little devil.

And you wouldn't have it any other way...

[gglitch1dd]

love the kinda (?) new theme! also i would vert much like a sneak peek of whatever, no matter how small the crumbs 😍

MMMMHHHH. I like you anon. Hehe. Alright. Here is a TEASER for

Us and You (Teaser)

DILF Kirishima Eijiro X Teacher Reader

Warning: Mentions of bullying, single parent discrimination, angy daddy Eijiro

Eijiro slammed his car door as he moved towards the school entrance with large strides. Standing at the entrance was his daughter’s homeroom teacher, Ms T. He had met her only twice before, once at the beginning of the school year and another time at a parents association meeting. He didn’t mind her all that much.

At the sight of him, she bowed at the waist, always being instructed to do so with such high paying patrons of their school. “Mr Kirishima.” She greeted, before leading him inside.

“Where’s my daughter?” He asked not caring much about pleasantries or caring enough to take the time to look around at the school and its impressive clean hallway or foyer.

Miss T, tried her best to keep up with him at his large strides as she scurried forward, her heels clacking against the marbled floor. “She’s in another teacher’s office as we speak, but I’m taking you to the principle’s office.” She looked up feeling his gaze on her.

He had an unimpressed look on his face, a single black eyebrow raised up at what he hoped was not a teacher joke. She looked away from him, clearing her throat. She led him up a flight of stairs before reaching a door that led into the principle’s secretary’s space before walking into the principle’s office.

The principle, an older gentleman with a frown on his face as a woman seemed to be basically shouting at him from across his desk as she sat in her cushioned seat. The older thin-haired man seemed rather exasperated from her rambling. Standing in the corner was another teacher who kept to herself beside the other woman.

The principle, Mr Tanaka, upon noticing Eijiro immediately stood up from his chair. He bowed. “Mr Kirishima, it’s a pleasure to see you again.”

Eijiro nodded his head at best as he moved to sit down in the other free chair beside the other woman. The two teachers decided to step to the side, almost like silent spectators as the door was closed and finally the issue could be addressed. Mr Tanaka cleared his throat as he put his hands in front of him. “Kirishima-san, your daughter as well of Mrs Fujihara’s daughter were in a bit of a… dispute.” He put kindly. Eijiro had his arms crossed over his chest as he sat up straight. He didn’t say a word as he kept his eyes on Mr Tanaka. “Miyu and Sachiko got into an argument, some words were said and Miyu ended up pushing Sachiko.” He explained slowly. “Which resulted in Sachiko spraining her wrist.”

“What you’re telling me is my daughter was assaulted.” Eijiro summarised frankly.

Mr Tanaka hesitated for a moment, but Mrs Fujihara didn’t seem to have the same restraint. “My daughter did not assault anybody. She can’t commit assault in the first place, she’s eleven.” She spoke boldly and loudly, trying to stand up for her daughter who Eijiro considered lucky she wasn’t here.

Eijiro glanced down at her with a scowl instantly raising the tension in the room. Eijiro effectively ignored her as he looked back to Mr Tanaka. “What were the girls arguing about?”

Immediately everyone in the room seemed to not have an answer for him. He looked to the principle who looked through the report that was given to him not even five minutes ago. Mrs Fujihara also suddenly seemed to be at a loss for words as she turned to look away from Eijiro with a huff. He raised an eyebrow as he looked to his daughter’s home room teacher who also seemed not eager to answer his question.

“Mr Kirishima, I can assure you that it was nothing serious and has been resolved amongst the girls-”

“That is not what I asked, Tanaka.” Kirishima said with a roll of his eyes. “I asked about what were the girls arguing about.”

“Mr Kirishima I can assure you that-”

“Sir.” Taking Kirishima’s attention was the teacher who was already in the room when he had entered. You were dressed professional and yet cute as well. Eijiro looked at you, not remembering ever being introduced to you before nor hearing your name. You kept your eyes down away from him as you bowed deeply and lowly. “I was the teacher on duty when this happened and I sincerely apologies for what transpired. I was busy helping another student and if only I was more attentive this could have been avoided.” You started, your voice sincere and almost filled with sadness about what had happened. “To answer your question, Miyu was teasing Sachiko about her parentage, sir. Specifically, the fact that she… she only has one.” Kirishima went still at the words you said. “Sachiko proceeded to speak about supposed infidelity allegations concerning Mr Fujihara and Miyu then pushed Sachiko off her chair. I was just able to separate the fight before anything else could happen.”

The room was silent after you finished speaking, no one truly knowing what to say. Mrs Fujihara cleared her throat as she motioned to you. “As you can see, your child Mr Kirishima is-” Her words stopped in her throat as dark ruby eyes flicked to look at her. Eijiro’s face was emotionless as he hadn’t said a word since you had started speaking. She swallowed down hard as she decided against speaking again.

Eijiro’s eyes than flicked to Mr Tanaka. He let out a breath as he tried his best to relax in the chair he dwarfed. He kept his hands on his lap, his grip tight. “I send my daughter to your school and this is the type of actions you allow to take place here?” He asked lowly, his temper only increasing the more he wanted it to diminish.

Mr Tanaka put on a nervous smile as he chuckled, sweat appearing on his forehead. “Sir, that is-”

“What’s so funny, Tanaka?” The principle went stiff. Kirishima didn’t smile, glaring at the man opposite him. “You find my daughter being bullied funny?”

The other parent in the room turned to Eijiro shocked. “My daughter,” Mrs Fujihara started. “Is not a bully. She-”

“Such incidents don’t happen in isolation. Tell me, have the girls fought before? Physically or verbally?” He asked, dismissing Mrs Fujihara all together as he stared at the principle. Mr Tanaka was at a loss for words, not entirely sure on what to say or how to comment. He scratched the back of his head. Eijiro’s jaw tensed in annoyance. This was getting him no where. He turned to you. “Has this happened before?”

You hesitated, glancing at your boss he seemed rather adamant about you not saying anything. You looked back to Eijiro. The large man had hard ruby eyes but behind them all you saw was slight fear. “Yes... It has. Verbally with light shoving and all that, nothing major. We have talked to Mrs Fujihara about her daughter’s behaviour to other students before.” You told him honestly.

“And yet nothing was communicated to me?” He asked lowly, glancing back to look at Ms T, his daughter’s homeroom teacher. She was silent as she lowered her demeanour almost not wanting to face him. “I see...” He folded his legs over one another and faced Mr Tanaka. “Considering that communication is so lacking in this school’s community, you shouldn’t be surprised if communication about the Kirishima family's sudden leave as a main sponsor to this school is also... lacking.”

Mr Tanaka sat up in worry. “Mr Kir-”

“What punishment is Miyu receiving?” He asked straight to the point.

Mr Tanaka paused for a moment. “Suspended for three days and on detention for two weeks.” He notified him confidently in the punishment they were giving to her.

Eijiro was silent once more as he took a moment to think it over. He huffed with a nod. He turned to look at you, startling you slightly. “Where is my daughter?”

“I-In my office.”

With a grunt, Eijiro stood up. Your eyes widened at the pure size of him. With him standing right in front of you, it made you feel so small just looking up at him. He radiated the same presence he did when he first entered, power and control. He looked rather stern and other than in looks (which he looked identical to his daughter in), you wondered how such a man could raise such a sweet girl. “Take me to her.” It was more of a demand than a request. You nodded your head as you motioned towards the door once more.

Mr Tanaka cleared his throat as he too stood up. “Mr Kirishima, we’ll talk more about this over the phone.”

Eijiro ignored him as he followed you out of the room. You walked by his side, your small body trying to lead the way through the halls as he followed beside you. He noticed your hurried steps trying to make sure to keep up with him. He slowed down for a moment, allowing you to take the lead at a better pace for you.

You noticed it almost instantly, which you smiled at as you led him down the corridor. Then you paused. You turned back to him with a bow once more. “I… I have to once again apologize, sir. Really, I wish this never occurred. I apologize for my negligence.”

“Please, you aren’t responsible for other people’s actions.” Eijiro reminded you with a stern look with a stern look as he folded his arms over his chest. He let out a sigh as he looked to the side. “I apologize for my behaviour. You are all trying to do your jobs and here I am-”

“No.” You quickly stepped forward closer to him, catching Eijiro by surprise. You looked up at him with urgency in your eyes and yet something kin to understanding. “You don’t have to apologize. You are a father worried for your child. It is only to be expected.” Eijiro’s eyebrows raised in surprise at your words. It was the last thing he was expecting from a teacher, especially with what he had just said to all of you. You gave him a training smile, gentle and easing. “Besides, I’ve seen worse parents.”

He let out an amused scoff. “I bet you have.” He spoke out lowly, the tone of his voice sending a shiver down your spine as you tried your best to keep your composure. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I got your name.”

You perked up at that fact. “Oh! I didn’t introduce myself.” You bowed at the waist, your hands in front of you as you closed your eyes. “Ms L/N, but Ms Y/N is just fine, the kids prefer to call me that.”

He smiled and for the first time since you knew him you saw something just like his daughter. That beautiful smile. “Ms Y/N...” He said your name trying it out on his lips. “Kirishima Eijiro, Sachiko’s father.”

You giggled, which made the edges of Eijiro’s mouth tilt upwards. “I know who you are Mr Kirishima. Your daughter talks a lot about you.” You revealed to him, as you motioned for the two of you to keep moving.

Eijiro raised an eyebrow in intrigue. “Really? What does she say?”

You shook your head with a smirk. “That’s between Miss Kirishima and I.” You kept your lips sealed.

Eijiro chuckled at the statement. He raised a single eyebrow in intrigue, glancing down at you amusedly. “Between you and Sachiko, huh?” He asked you amusedly. You nodded your head agreeing with his statement. He hummed not convinced which only made you giggle. “So you and Sachi must be close to be gossiping about me.”

“We don’t gossip, sir. We just comment.” You reasoned earning a scoff from Eijiro. “You’re daughter and I…” You hesitated and yet Eijiro saw a soft expression on your face, gentle and calming. “Your daughter is real special. She’s such a good girl, always doing her work and trying her best in her classes. She’s such an interactive learner too, which makes her such a pleasure to teach last year. She’s very respectful and kind. You raised her well, sir.” You reported to him, sincere and true.

Eijiro looked down at you for a while before a proud look went to his face. He smiled. “Thank you and please, don’t call me sir. You’re making me feel old.”

You giggled lightly. “Old? There’s nothing wrong with being more mature than others.”

He rolled his ruby eyes at your wording. “Don’t compare me to wine. You seem rather…” His eyes caught on you as you walked beside him. You looked up at him with wide eyes attentive and capturing his very soul. His ruby eyes trailed your body for a moment. His breath caught in his throat as he chastised himself for checking out the young cute teacher that was leading him to his daughter. He closed his eyes and held his hands behind him, gripping his hand hard enough to try and distract his thoughts to more pure ones. “You’re way too young to understand.”

You chuckled with a shake of your head. “I am not that young.”

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-five.”

“Jesus.” Eijiro let out as he looked away from you, making you laugh. “Now you’re making me really feel old.” He commented.

You paused at the door of a classroom, looking at him with a smile that held something behind it. “Well you know what they say about wine, Mr Kirishima.” You leaned forward slightly exposing a bit more of your chest to him unbeknownst to you. “It tastes better the older it is.” You moved to open the classroom entering first.

Eijiro had to pause for a moment, briefly closing his eyes for a second. He took a breath, praying he can get through this without having the urge to pound into you on the closest desk.

-Glitch1d

[Kirishima Eijiro Masterlist]

[running-with-kn1ves]

hii! i wanted to ask if you could do a yandere kidnapper x yandere darling? like rich depressed yan that can't imagine living without their darling and ended up taking drastic action, only to find out that darling is way more insane and obsessed passionate than they thought

A/N: I've never been super big on the yan x yan trope but I think this came out kinda cool! Hope this is what you were looking for <3

Synopsis: Sneaking into your beloved's bedroom bent on getting pictures for your stash, you're quickly found by him, who's surprisingly enthusiastic to find you breaking in.

CW: Kidnapping, mutual obsession, shrine dedications, murder (offscreen lol)

WC:3000+

“Nice… new pics for the blog.” 

Your camera click click clicked with a shutter noise each time you rapid fired its capture button, eye so close to the screen you might as well be looking through the viewfinder solely itself. 

“I can see it now… his unkept bedroom revealed, beautiful little face plastered beside this… heap.” 

You looked at the pile of dirty clothes that had yet to be picked up by the estate's cleaning ladies. Well, if you were as filthy rich as he was, you’d probably do the same. Who would waste time cleaning their room when you have the whole world to see? Or in his case, a million press conferences to attend. 

Your eye was drawn to a slightly ajar closet, an odd lock seeming to have been hastily unfastened, now leaving the doors peeking open. Something red was inside. Oh boy, you could hardly contain your excitement. 

What kind of secrets would the famous, wealthy heir Elijah Walsh have in his teensy private closet? Mayhaps some drag dress up that no fan would expect? Dead bodies? Or even, the rumored cocaine stash his poor daddy was accused of hiding? 

You knew Elijah like the back of your hand, unable to imagine any kind of hidden truths that you haven't already discovered. For you, a superfan, (and ultimately, the soulmate he doesn't know about yet) were aware of far more than the average tabloid who didn’t cross trespassing boundaries for love like you had. 

You ripped open the doors without hesitation, snapping pics before even turning the light on. 

But what you saw, was something you weren’t sure you’d want to keep on camera. 

It was you. Well, a picture of you, from some yearbook or singled-out group shot that you couldn’t pinpoint the exact year from. Around your awkward grinning face was a series of items, pinned on a pretty red board like it was a crime scene of sorts. Or maybe… a shrine?

“What the f… is that my underwear??” You looked at the old pair of stretched out undies you had since middle school. Definitely not the pair you’d want some kind of stalker or investigator to get their hands on. 

You saw a few old chapsticks taped to the board, one of which you had been searching for in some old bag you swore you left it in. “I was looking for those!” You grabbed the chapstick and a broken brush, the exact same you thought you had thrown away months ago. 

Out of all the things you hoped to find-- used Q-tips, one of his musky jackets, maybe even some dark sex toys-- this wasn’t on your list. But you couldn’t help the spike in your heart, the flutter that made your toes point inward. 

You had been running this journalist (really a stalker-ish) blog on Elijah since before he got big in the press. You went to the same elementary school and for a short time in middle school, and ever since you couldn’t get his name out of your head. Now, you had a justified reason to keep tabs on him, since his family was currently in the public eye for a variety of deeds. 

Along with professing your obsession with him since childhood, your blog dated the shocking events of his controversies--  keeping it all under an anonymous pen name, of course. You had information news sites couldn’t get their hands on; the dedication you put into watching him was a trait of pride you could never let go. 

Memories of him comforted you at night, and seeing his pretty face in the grocery store magazines hoarded under your bed made you drift off to daydream land where, maybe, you’d be more than just some heavy breathing keyboard jammer fawning over him from a distance.. 

And here was, you. Your things. In his room. Even from the times you climbed the tree beside his window, you never saw this… anomaly of items. 

“What’s this even… mean.” You whispered, dumfounded and growing antsy. Elijah would be coming back now any second, the route of his driver dinging on your phone. 

‘Wait.. does he, know? That I’ve been watching him? Is this all evidence to… incriminate me??’

Worry was creeping up inside of you. But there was no time, not when a heavy vase clunked against your head from behind, letting out a resounding ‘crack!’ from the contact. The chapstick fell from your fingers, camera sliding with you as it lingered loose around your neck. 

The last thing you could think of before darkness hit, was ‘man, I hope I don’t fall on my camera… can’t replace it again. ‘

The unconscious darkness blinding your eyes was snuffed out what seemed hours later, replaced by a buzzing yellow light hanging from the ceiling. You groaned outloud, feeling groggy; an aching pain throbbed in your slumped neck and a sore bump on your scalp. 

‘Got a killer headache…’ 

You tried to pull your hands up to the bump to feel for a bruise, but fell flat with your arms tucked behind your back. You jerked them around, not realizing that they in fact were stuck together-- tied by rope, or some kind of fabric. 

“Thank god, you’re awake. Thought maybe I hit you too hard-- I don’t know what i’d do if that happened.” A familiar voice rang out in the musty, echoing room. 

“What…?” You croaked, trying to look up without facing the wrath of your headache the more light entered your eyes.

“Here, drink some water.” 

A bottle came in front of you, so close to your lips all you had to do was bend down to touch it. You did so without thinking, tasting the sandpaper of a tongue you were stuck with. As soon as the cool water touched your throat, you thought about potential poisoning. Who was this person bottle-feeding you water, why couldn’t you do it yourself?? 

You were too thirsty to care about the consequences, gulping it down as the bottle lifted higher to accommodate you. 

Letting out a pant, you sat back, trying to rub water off your lip with a shoulder shimmy. 

“Where am I? What’s going on--” It all started to come back to you, being in Elijah’s room, trespassing on private property, seeing the closet hoard of you. “Wait, please don’t report me, I promise it isn’t what you think it was…”

“Report you?” The masculine tone scoffed, a hand falling to your shoulder. “I was worried I’d never get a chance like this… you made it so easy, how’d you get in? The window?”

“...Yeah.” You sheepishly replied, looking up at your captor. “It’s not as easy as it looks.”

Oh shit. That was Elijah right in front of you. In the flesh, pretty pearly teeth grinning only inches away from your face as his hand rested on your left shoulder, gently massaging it.

“Is your head okay? I feel bad but.. I wasn’t thinking, could only think about how to keep you here.”

Keep you here? Oh no, does that mean the police are on their way??

“Now.. I don’t have to worry about sending people out to your apartment anymore.. No more security cameras, no more blackmail… just you.” He stroked the side of your cheek that was inflamed from falling against the floor. “Damn. I thought i’d have to go through the trouble of taking you in the middle of the night, I had just sent my driver out for my tools too- but, looks like that’s not even an issue anymore!”

Well, sounds like your fears about the cops was no where near the truth. But now, you were even more confused. Taking you? Stalking? Blackmail? It almost felt like you were listening to yourself talk for a second. 

Behind the dark glare covering his eyes, you could see Elijah’s trademark dimples, his pinkish lips covering the slight overbite he had, constantly showing off his front few teeth. You knew those downturned eyes were there somewhere, even with their shine dulled by the shadows of what looked to be a dark cellar around you. 

His hair was unkempt, thick, dark strands covering his ears and going so far to the base of his neck. Wow, you had never seen him look so scruffy, even when watching from outside, seeing him brush his teeth in shirtless pajamas. He looked worried, shirt untucked and pants wrinkled as he ran a hand through his hair. 

“And I’m sorry to say.. But don’t even think about trying to run away now. I made up my mind long ago, and if I find out that--”

“Urk, I wasn’t planning on it. I saw, the uh, dedication board. Or, shrine?”

At that, Elijah stopped. His baby blue eyes went wide for a moment, forgetting that was where he originally found you until now. 

You hid your head down in discomfort.  

“I have the same one…of you, in my apartment… in a box under my bed. There’s even a piece of hair from middleschool that I c..ut, from you.” You held back a nauseous gag at the admission. But here you were, this was your chance to prove how much you loved him, how much dedication you put towards understanding his every move, every like and dislike, the intricacies of his family history. “Do you know why I was in your room?” You asked, wondering if he already had seen your worship blog. 

Elijah took a step back, lowering to sit on a pulled out fold-up chair across from you. His knees touched yours, still dressed in his black slacks and matching loafers, rolled up sleeves on his cream-colored button up that showed he had taken liberties to get more comfortable for the night. 

“I’ll be honest I hadn’t contemplated that… just about how perfect of a chance it was, that you-- my uh, small, obsession since fifth grade.. Was here.” He looked down, a small red tint creeping from his cheeks to the rest of his face. He was bright crimson, like a kid again confessing to his crush behind the bleachers. “But you remember me?? From so long ago? I can’t… Its hard to imagine, i’ve been watching you for years and thought you had completely forgotten about me.”

“Are you kidding?” You watched Elijah rub his eyes, trying to hide his face behind his knuckles. “You’re all over the news, even if I wanted to avoid you. But I haven’t stopped following your every move since, I can’t remember. Every house change, new school, shopping trip with your mother… anytime I was free I dedicated it to watching you, or my--”

You cut yourself off, stepping one foot off into the deep end on a subject you desperately wanted kept hidden. 

“If I knew any better I’d say you sound like a bit of a stalker.” Elijah tried to hide his grin behind his hand, leaning forward to get a closer look at you. “What were you going to say?”

“My…blog.” 

“Blog?” He parroted. 

“It’s a…. Dedication blog. To you.”

“Oh, like an obsessed fan?” He jeered, laughing with bright teeth as he braced his shaking from on his knee.  “Don’t tell me-- you snuck in here for content to your blog?”

“No-! Well, yes. But some of it was going in my private stash…” You pouted, knowing you’d never get that chance again now that you’ve been discovered. Your days of fawning were going to come to a close. 

“So you must be the one who keeps finding a way to get pictures when I never see any reporters around. By, breaking into my home.” 

“That sounds really bad.. But I promise I wasn’t going to try to steal, or hurt you!”

That only made him laugh harder.

“I can’t… can’t believe I never saw you..” He wheezed, face flushed as you sat rotting in embarrassment and shame. “I had drivers chase after you for hours when you disappeared-- but you were five steps behind me the entire time!”

Drivers… your brain clicked two and two together as he tried to stop from giggling while hunched over. 

“...Drivers?” You question. No way this is what yout thought it was.”So you’ve been spying on me?”

“Don’t sound so offended, little stalker,” He settled down, a permanent smile still on his mouth as he dragged the steel chair somehow closer. “ You’ve been hard to catch, but i’ve been keeping tabs on you, as unseemingly as it is. I couldn’t do it myself but I wanted to make sure you were, okay. Before it was safe to bring you home. Though I had nothing to fear about you forgetting me at all!”

You swallowed, mouth having gone back to a dry desert as you contemplated what this all meant. YOUR Elijah was spying on you in your home? Sending out underlings to watch and make sure you were safe? The man who you’d lay your life down for? You fantasized, imagining him at your window, you-- freshly out of the shower…

“What do you mean by home? You don’t mean.. Here, in the estate, right?”

Elijah observed you so fully, it made you nervous. He had never given someone this much attention in interviews, nonetheless in the photos and videos you managed to snap of him alone. And he was looking at you, with those eyes. 

You didn’t know how much longer you could take it. Smelling his sandalwood with his knees pressing against yours, his finely ironed shirt toned against him-- right here, in the flesh. You always thought you’d be at a distance, never able to come in contact with him.. And now, you were tied up in his family’s wine cellar. 

“Of course my darling. Where else? I can’t possibly send you back to that dungeon of an apartment. And you,” He stood, intent on coming closer. “Came in so willingly, huh? Didn’t think you’d return my love so… earnestly.”

“W-well who said anything about staying?” You sputtered, looking at his eyes glower in an exceedingly dark fashion. “I mean…. You love me? I’d accepted I’d never be seen by you but… you’ve been watching, the entire time?”

He stood up from his chair with a slight creak, causing your neck to strain upwards to look at him. A small touch caressed the end of your chin, his finger smoothening as it lifted your head to meet his gaze. 

He hummed, Elijah’s eyes full of an expression you’ve never seen him wear before. Something in the mix of a sentimental possession, and a lover. But it was so tender, you couldn’t look away. It was so safe, so familiar. You recognized that look in the mirror, visible in your own eyes when you planted kisses on his printed photo taped to your vanity. 

“Haven’t been able to keep you off my mind since you plucked that leaf off of my spoiled head. Love doesn’t even begin to describe it. I need, you.” 

His gaze was so genuine, your eyes soothed by the glazed over grin he gave you, leaning down to hunch on his knees to be closer to you. 

“I…” You breathed, wondering if this was a dream. “I’ve wanted you to see me.. for so long. Is this real?” 

You stopped working. There was no chance that he had been watching you, wondering and waiting for you to recognize him, when you were longing for his attention, having convinced yourself long ago you’d only be able to possess him from a distance. 

Soft fingers that hadn’t worked a day in their lives creeped up your knees, Elijah’s face only inches away as his eyelids lowed, looking sultry as he watched you squirm. 

“I pray it’s not.” He exhaled. 

“...Well, I’m not staying tied up in this chair, no matter how much you beg. Though… I can’t say I’d mind staying with you. Being with you.. Here, together.”

“Good. It wasn’t really a matter of choice, anyway.” He grinned, pressing a slow kiss to your cheek. 

You involuntarily hummed in content, pressing closer to his lips as you arched out of the chair, longing to touch his warm body. He was kissing you; somebody get you out of these ropes before you jump the man. 

Elijah couldn’t help but grin like a maniac, drugged on the way you relished his touch and pressed your chest forward to him. He rushed kisses to your chin, bites to your ear and licks to your neck with a groan. 

But a sudden stop brought your blissfully closed eyes to an open. 

“I’m sorry… want you too much, it’s getting to the better of me.”

“I’m not sorry,” You mumble, hoping that if this was a dream, you wouldn’t ever wake up. “Please, don’t stop.. I’ve killed for this, don’t stop now.”

“You tempt me too much,” He chuckles, gripping the sides of your chair seat to stablize himself leering over you. “So lucky you were my little creepy stalker, and no one else’s. Wouldn’t be able to control myself otherwise.”

“Stalker, murderer of your old lovers… I have many names.” You joked, but the bitterness on your tongue remembering those placeholders you got rid of was sour. 

“Many talents, too.” Elijah’s eyebrows furrowed. “You’re the one that caused my fiances to dissapear? I wondered how they kept doing that,” He looked keenly, seeing right through your little ‘joke’. “Even I couldn’t shoo my mothers’ arranged partners away.”

You tried to look away, embarrassment showing on the way you bit your lips clean and your heartbeat wrapped. “I did it in your name….  I couldn’t stand them thinking they were worth being so close and casual with you! It was infuriating every time I saw it I-- I just  couldn’t take it anymore. Even if it meant I’d never have you.” 

Elijah buried himself in your hair, holding you tight. The squeeze was so personable, hungry and desperate to hold all of you.

 “You have me now, you have me completely. I want you-- what a favor you have done, and you hadn’t even known.”

It felt so good, praised for such hard and hateful work you carried out. Their bodies were mangled, your rage manifesting in the corpses buried under the old golf course near your dingy apartment complex-- and he was happy you did it. Oh, you wanted to hold him, to smell him fully. These binds were stopping you from caressing the lover, the dream you had fantasized holding you to sleep so often, spooning the jackets and dresshirts of his musk in replacement for comfort. 

Elijah still snickered in your ear, playing with the tips of your hair.

“But now, I have to see this blog. I’m too curious-- though I can’t say seeing it will help my small obsession for you. A stalking blog-- too cute.”

You were still so shameful of it, now that he brought it up. You didn’t want your soulmate to see the virtual shrine you had dedicated to him, your unseemly thoughts and hungry urges that were far too detailed and graphic to be shared with their perpetrator. But what choice did you have? He’d find it, one way or another. 

“F..fine. But you’d you atleast untie me now? My arms are getting sore.”

That seemed to cease his light-hearted expression, frowning against your skull as he inhaled the sweet scent of your hair. It was the same as he remembered, now a decade later. 

“You’re not gonna try to leave, are you?” He murmured, caressing pinching your ear with a light tone. But something dangerous was held behind it. It was frightening.. But oh, as if the possessiveness didn’t fuel how much more your insides craved him. 

“Do you think I’d really try to go anywhere? Not when you’re so accessible to me now.” You looked over. Elijah’s lashes looked so long up close, sweetly deadpanned eyes watching as if you were being tested, hunted. 

He seemed to find your answer appealing, getting up and pulling something out of his back pocket. Leaning down once more, you saw the switchblade bobbing between his hands, a pretty and simple hunting blade. He leaned over you, pressing it against the knot above your wrists. 

You focused on feeling for the blade as to not get cut, only for your attention to be pulled back to the spoiled one-percenters lips pressing yours directly. It was a shock, more than anything. You wished you had seen it coming, wish you had been better prepared to share your first kiss with your darling! 

Elijah left your mouth nowhere to run as he pressed up against you, fervidly ensnaring your lips between his.

You gladly accepted the pull away for a second kiss, leaning up as much as you could while hiding your desperation. He was so soft, lips gentle and big as they enveloped your bitten ones. 

“Sorry,” Elijah broke away slowly, not straying far. “I’ve wanted to do that for ages.” You watched his eyes stare wonders at your lips, fingers brushing against your trapped ones from behind as the task at hand was forgotten. 

“Me too.” You uttered, pulling forward to kiss him again with an open, insatiable mouth. 

[writingsbychlo]

WHITE XMAS | mattheo riddle

summary; mattheo comes to spend christmas with you and your family.

word count; 15,245

notes; I have never played chess in my life, chess girlies don't come for me. pic was made by @finalgirllx!

“So, Matty, what are your Christmas plans?” You murmur, head bopping lightly to the beat of the tacky Christmas CD that was playing over the Common Room speakers. “Will Tom be coming home for Christmas?”

“Are you kidding?” Mattheo muttered, cursing as he readjusted his grip on the dwindling charcoal in his fingers once again, peeking another glance over the edge of his tatty sketchpad to you. “Why would he?”

“Because it’s nice! It’s Christmas, it’s a time for family to come together.”

“Not mine.” He blew a curl from his eyes, pausing. Tilting his head, he narrowed his eyes as his gaze flickered between the page, and a very specific spot on your shoulder. “Tom has escaped, he doesn’t have to come home for the annual Riddle-family Christmas Horror Show.”

That brought a frown to your lips, and he tutted. “Keep smiling.”

“You’re not even drawing my face right now.” You snipped back, and the edges of his lips tipped up in a smirk, focusing as he dragged the tool in his hand over the paper, back and forth. Soft scraping filled the room, along with the general chatter of the few other students dotted throughout the room, background noise with their undecipherable muttering and the music. “You don’t like Christmas?”

“Why would I? Christmas magic never existed for me. The very day I first asked about Santa, Tom pulled me aside and told me he wasn’t real. Warned me not to ask about him.” With a sigh, he dropped the notepad to sit flat in his lap, resting the charcoal on the side table, and shrugging. When he wiped his forehead, he unknowingly left a smear of grey over his skin. “I was stupid, and four. I asked my father, and he laughed at me and told me not to be pathetic. Everything I got in this world was hard-earned, and came by his generosity, and his alone.” 

“Matty…”

“Don’t pity me. Can’t love what I never had.” Despite his brave words, there was an underlying emptiness to his voice, the kind that formed over years of hurt finally losing its bite. The way scarred flesh didn’t hurt, but they never stitched up quite right. 

You whisper, standing up and making your way over to him. He looked up at you now as you stood before him, hand raising to wipe the smudge away with your thumb. “It’s that bad?”

He only hummed. “I get to parade around, playing the ‘seen but not heard’ son as my father cashes in on a big business day. It’s such a great time to ‘make connections’. Normally I’d have Tom with me, and we’d spend the days counting down until my birthday, and his. On the 30th, we’d sneak out and get two cupcakes, right between. He’ll be back for New Year's, my father is making him, but I can’t begrudge him staying away for Christmas.”

“You make me so sad sometimes.”

“Can’t have that, can we?” He murmured, leaning up to pinch at your waist lightly, a spot he knew was ticklish. You jerked away from him with a gasp of a laugh, smacking his hand as you went. “Don’t worry. I’ll be at the Malfoy Christmas Eve Ball. I’ll see you all then, I can look forward to it.”

“No.”

“No?” He echoed, a smile forming on his face, and he tugged you in closer, arms wrapping around your thighs. “The fuck do you mean no?”

“I mean, that won’t do. Your Christmas plans make me want to commit a festive crime. Hit your dad with a sleigh, or something.” That brought real laughter from him, a loud burst, his eyes closing a little as he rested his forehead on your stomach, his shoulders shaking. “I have a big family Christmas. All my aunts and uncles and cousins and their kids. There’s going to be at least twenty of us.”

“Now you’re just rubbing it in.” He muttered, shaking his head, frowning up at you falsely. 

“No, I’m inviting you, if you’d let me finish.”

His expression shifted then, from teasing and humour to vulnerability and disbelief. Pretty brown eyes shone with shock as he stared up at you. Cupping his jaw, you smoothed your thumb along his cheek. “You’re what?”

“Come with me for Christmas Day, Matty. I cannot, in good conscience, enjoy my day, knowing how you’re spending yours.”

“You really want that? Your family wouldn't mind?” Hope raised in his voice, not a hint of denial in sight, and he smiled shakily when you nodded. 

“What are friends for, huh? I promise it’ll be okay. My parents are a ‘the more, the merrier’, type.” He ran his tongue over his bottom lip, thoughts spinning in his gaze, before he pulled you even closer. Pressing his face against your stomach, your hands slipped to his hair instead, running through the curls. It was the same way you did whenever you stumbled across him smoking after a nightmare, or sulking after a letter from home. “We have a floo. You can step right in. I promise, you’d be welcome. Please spend Christmas with me, Mattheo.”

“Okay.” He mumbled, breath hot against your navel through your shirt as he breathed the word against you. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He finally turned his head again, resting his cheek there instead, looking away toward the fireplace, throat bobbing. With a final squeeze, he loosened his hold. “I’d really like that.”

“I’ll write down my address for you, and give you all the details.” Leaning down, you pressed a kiss to his messy hair, and he was smiling faintly as you pulled away. “It’ll be great, I promise.”

“I don’t doubt.” Finally, he let go of you fully, and took a bracing breath. Resetting himself, he schooled his features, picking up his sketchpad again and diverting his gaze to it. “Alright, go sit back down. Try and remember your pose, I want to finish this before dinner.”

Rubbing at your eyes tiredly, you were never awake this early, even the children were still snoozing, only one or two other members of your family had woken. Your father had always been an early bird, forcing your mother to be the same, and the two were tinkering in the kitchen, quietly chatting. 

One of your grandmas had woken, made her way downstairs, and promptly fallen asleep in the rocking chair next to the fireplace after lighting it with a flick of her wrist. You were sure one of your uncles— maybe a cousin, too— had been wandering upstairs, but perhaps, they’d gone back to bed.

Suppressing a yawn, you jumped when the soft pop of the fireplace sounded, flames changing momentarily from amber and orange to a truly festive shade of green. Stumbling through it was Mattheo. 

He didn’t look nearly as tired as you did. More so, he looked alert, in every sense of the word. His eyes were wide, one hand clenched into a tight fist around a bouquet of poor flowers, the other tugging nervously at his collar. He was wearing a red Christmas jumper, a set of tasteful white snowflakes sewn in a band across the chest. His usual black jeans, the best pair he had, seeing as they had no tears or frays, and white sneakers that had been polished to a shine. Possibly, never even worn outside. 

“Matty.” You mumbled, and he stepped down from the warmth of the fireplace as the flames flickered back to normal, your grandma merely offering a soft snore beside you both. Mattheo flinched again, like one of Theo’s pranks when he jumped out from behind doorways to scare you all in the dark, and you raised a brow. “You’re up early. Therefore, you naturally called me and woke me up early too.”

“Sorry. I had… restless sleep. I was anxious.” 

“Aw,” You smiled, reaching out to pinch his cheek. “You’re all excited like… oh. Well, like a kid on Christmas Day. Huh.” The joke washed over you in waves, still not quite awake enough to be aware of your own words, and he gave you a flat look. “Cute sweater.”

“I just bought it.”

“Why?” You smiled, and his lips twisted like you’d asked a stupid question. He followed you as you guided him from the lounge to the hall, shuffling behind you quickly. “Because you said you would be wearing one!”

“You didn’t have to buy a—” Your words shuttered as his lips smoothed back out, face neutral, but a flicker of uncertainty passed through his eyes. Mattheo didn’t own a Christmas jumper. It made sense, he’d never had reason to, but it didn’t stop your heart from breaking a little. “Come on. Take off your shoes, and let’s go get something to drink. Maybe a really strong coffee, hm?”

He toed off his shoes, neatly stacking them onto the rack beside the various others, some left in a pile. It wasn’t like him, Mattheo left his things everywhere; the group was always picking up after him, but it was clear that he was doing the most to be on his very best behaviour.

Taking his free hand in both of your own, you squeezed it, bringing his attention to you. “Mattheo?”

He hummed, tugging at his collar as he stared beyond you to his reflection in the hallway mirror. Smoothing your hands over his shirt, you patted it down, his eyes dropping to you as you pushed his hand away. 

“Mattheo. You’re worrying. You’re supposed to be here to have fun, not be the picture-perfect son like you would at home.” His lips pressed together, like he didn’t believe you, as he sighed through his nose. “You’re perfect just as you are, okay? You don’t need to worry. Everyone knows you’re coming, and they know who you are. I’ve been writing about you all in my letters home for years. Your name isn’t a surprise, and you’re welcome here. Okay?”

“You’re sure?”

“Mattheo Riddle, have I ever lied to you?” Your teasing finally brought a smile to his face. “Have I ever given you a reason not to believe me?”

“No.” He finally conceded. 

“Then trust me, hm?”

He rolled his eyes, but his shoulders dropped. With one final glance at his reflection, he turned away, closing the page on those fears and ready to proceed with the day. After only a second of hesitation, he took your hand, squeezing for comfort as you guided him back through the house. 

His fingers flexed around your own as you approached the kitchen, your mother laughing gently at some joke your father had told. Both of them turned to face you as you stepped in, tugging Mattheo behind you. 

“Mama, Dad, my friend is here. This is Mattheo.”

Shaking his hand free from your own, he smoothed his palm over his jeans before shakily stepping forward and offering his hand. Your mother only smiled as your father shook it firmly. “Good to meet you, our daughter writes about you in her letters a lot.”

“Dad.”

“Oh, it’s true! More than almost anyone else.” Your mother cooed, your exasperated sigh doing nothing to dull their teasing as your mother only pinched his cheek instead of taking his offered hand. “Oh, you’re so tall! She never mentioned that.”

“Mama, stop teasing him!”

“I’m doing no such thing!” She scolded you, tutting as she peered over his shoulder. “It’s good to find a tall man. Like your father, they can reach the fresh stuff on the storage shelves that they don’t want you to get at when you go to the store.”

“Oh, is that all?” You muttered, crossing your arms as she went back to fussing over Mattheo. Your father rolled his eyes, sipping from his ‘World’s Best Daddy’ mug that you’d made when you were five. He saved it for every Christmas Day, like tradition. 

“These are for you, Mrs—”

“Oh!” Your mother took the bouquet, admiring them, and not even seeming to notice the slightly crumpled stems that had been his substitute stress-ball. “They’re beautiful, look at them.”

She presented them to your father, who nodded approvingly, and Mattheo turned just long enough to glance over his shoulder. He was bewildered, and red-cheeked. 

“Alright, have I sufficiently embarrassed you dear, or should I keep going? I haven’t even told you what a handsome young man he is yet—”

“Oh, I think you’ve done plenty.” Your droll tone made your parents snicker to one another, and she turned away to put the flowers in a vase. Reaching forward and grabbing a fistful of Mattheo’s jumper, you tugged him back to your side. “Is anyone else awake yet?”

“Only your grandma.”

You made a noise of agreement, grateful for the early rise if it meant being able to ease Mattheo into the crazy rush. Leaving his side for just a moment, you took two mugs from the cupboard, your early call also meaning you got the first pick, choosing the best ones and setting them out. Claimed, for the day. 

Your mother arranged her gift, showing them off proudly before disappearing to the dining room to find a spot for them on the table. Your father followed, and only a moment later, Mattheo was sidling up close to your side as you worked. 

“How’re you holding up so far?” You smirked, and he shook his head, a chuckle tumbling quietly from his lips. 

“I think if all your family react like that to me, I have nothing to worry about.”

“Why wouldn't they?” You didn’t give him a chance to disagree, stirring the hot drinks before you and tapping the spoon on the rim. “There’s nothing wrong with you, Mattheo.”

“Some people would disagree.”

“Some people also like pickles.” Your nose scrunched up, and you sought out the pot beside the biscuits, popping the lid and sprinkling some marshmallows onto the steaming surface of each one. “Clearly, their decisions can’t be trusted.”

Turning to him and pushing a mug over the counter, he scoffed. Leaning down until your noses were almost brushing, he smirked. “I like pickles.”

“You’re gross. I’ve seen you drink from a random cup the morning after a party.” Taking your mug, you turned away from him, leaving him spluttering behind you as he grabbed his own and followed. 

“First of all, that was one time. Secondly, I knew it was my drink! I’m the one who left it there!”

“Uh-huh.” He pinched at your hip in response falling back into step beside you, and allowing himself to be led into the snug. Smaller, cosier, with only one couch and two worn armchairs, it was one of your favourite rooms in the house. A wobbly bookshelf stood in the corner, and a chessboard sat out before you on the coffee table, a freshly reset game. The rest of the board games were stacked on a shelf. “Wanna’ talk about how the day will go? Put any last fears to rest.”

He glanced up, running his finger over the Queen on the board as he sat down, nodding, thankfully. “I’d like that.”

Settling onto a cushion on the floor instead, on the other side, you turned the board around. Picking up a pawn, you made your first move, and a spark went off in his eyes. “We’ll start with breakfast, when everyone wakes up. Mum loves making a big breakfast, she’s a breakfast foods kind of person. There’s a lot of stuff, a lot in the fridge. It’ll remind you of Hogwarts, but better.”

He smiled at that, picking up a pawn himself and shifting it across, playing the board as he waited to see what moves you’d make. Mattheo was surprisingly patient, and good at playing the long game. He never made a real move until there was more going on across the board. 

“Then, we’ll open gifts. The kids will be desperate by then, so we’ll all cram into the sitting room. If we’re lucky, we’ll be able to pinch a proper seat.” You shrugged, fingers brushing over your pieces, before plucking one up and making your next move. “After that, we do some baking. We’ll make things for dessert, as well as treats to have throughout the day. My mum has a big flow chart of all the cooking for the meal, most stuff we prepared over the last few days, but it all gets heated up and cooked after that.”

“Lot of kitchen work.”

“Oh, yes. Traditionally, all the ladies will do the cooking, and we leave all the washing up and cleaning for the men.” You gave him a wink, watching him play the board while grinning. 

“Christmas Day chores, what a treat.”

“While food cooks, they’ll be… something. Maybe movies, I think one of my uncles put a quiz together, so maybe that. Something fun. Then we’ll eat.” You found yourself stuck already, watching as he already managed to be pinning you down across the checkerboard. You considered your play for a while, and he sipped at his hot chocolate, a pleased noise on his lips as he licked foam from his top lip. “Then…”

“Then?” He said, and finally, you decided what to do, shifting to knock down one of his pieces and snatch it up with a smirk. That smirk didn’t last long, not as you saw his expression. Like you’d fallen right into his trap. He moved quickly, striking like a viper as he swiped up without consideration, and you swore as he took a piece in return. 

“Then… I don’t know. The rest of the day is mostly lazing around, letting the food settle, eating more food…��

“Can’t wait.” He whispered, and the moment you made your next play, he was grinning over the rim of his mug. He crossed the board, knocking down your Queen, and beaming as you scowled. “Checkmate.”

“Fuck you.”

“You lasted longer this time. That was, what, twelve moves? I’m impressed.”

“Bite me.” You scoffed, and he flashed his teeth, snapping them in a bite playfully, and you stuck out your tongue. 

“Don’t be a sore loser.” Mattheo taunted.

“Didn’t you once punch MacLaggen after a Quidditch match because—”

“You be quiet or I’ll come over there and make you be quiet.” As his eyes shone with mirth, you flipped him off, gulping at your hot chocolate and letting the half-melted, gooey marshmallows sit on your tongue. “Much better.”

“I don’t like you.”

“Oh, now, don’t believe a word she says.” You jumped, turning to the doorway as your cousin poked her head through, and Mattheo stiffened instantly. “She told me she wished I fell off my broom last year, just because I won the little toy inside the last Christmas cracker.”

“Jess!” You beam, lighting up a little as she stepped into the room, her youngest following her inside. The girl who came behind her was only two, still dressed in her striped pyjamas, eyes half open and curls pressed from the side she’s slept on. “Mattheo, meet my least favourite cousin.”

“Now, now. That’s just rude.” She beamed, letting go of her daughter's hand as the youngest began to toddle over towards you on shaky little stomps, letting you scoop her up and place a big kiss on her cheek. As you fawned over her child, Jess reached out, shaking Mattheo’s hand as he sat nervously. “Nice to meet you, Mattheo. I’ve heard a lot about you. Better than the Italian one, that’s for sure.”

“You’ve met Theo?” His shock was evident. Jess scoffed while you just laughed and tickled your baby cousin’s stomach. 

“Once, at family week. He happened to bump into us at Hogsmeade. Terrible flirt, isn’t he?”

“You were knocked up at the time, too.” You snickered, and she looked fondly at her daughter. 

“Oh, that didn’t stop him.” 

“Sounds like our Notty-boy,” Mattheo whispered, turning to look at you. When the girl on your knee looked up at him curiously, he wiggled his fingers, “Hello there.”

She only giggled, turning away to hide her face in your neck. 

“You two coming out for breakfast?” Jess sighed, calling her daughter back to her side as you put her down, and she scooped the girl up onto her hip. She turned to Mattheo, mischief written onto her features, “There are some people who want to meet you.”

Standing up and brushing off dirt from the floor, he followed suit, your cousin leaving ahead of you both. Taking your mug in one hand, Mattheo ruffled his hair in the other, patting down the untamed stands. 

“What are you— stop doing that.” Grabbing his arm, you didn’t fail to notice the light tremors from his nerves. “You’re squashing all your curls.”

“I should’ve styled my hair this morning. Your family will think I’m a mess.”

“It’s Christmas Day, and you woke me up before I could even wash my face. Trust me, you’re fine.” He only frowned, reaching his hand up towards his hair again, and you pulled it down. Running your hands down his arm, you clasped his hands, reassuringly. His fingers folded around your palm in return. “Ruining your pretty hair won’t make them like you any more, but it’ll make me like you less!”

“You think my curls are pretty?” 

Heat flushed your cheeks as he stared at you, curious. He’d always been so pretty, and it never failed to astonish you how all your favourite parts of him were the parts he disliked the most. “Shut up.”

His lips twitched, but he refrained from replying, glancing at the door instead. In a bold move, he took a step toward it, evidently deciding he was ready, as he guided you both out of the room and toward the growing bustle of voices.

Only moments after you emerged, he was swept into the craziness; aunties and uncles and cousins descending on him, all asking a thousand questions a minute. They wanted to know about classes, and where his jumper was from, and if he preferred roast beef or roast turkey. He was taken from you, leaving you to hold both mugs and chuckle at the flustered look on his face. 

By the time you’d refilled them both and returned to the pandemonium, he sagged with relief upon seeing you. Kids were already mithering about opening presents, raving madly about Santa, and he was able to slip away from the hustle and back to you. 

“Before you chastise me for leaving you,” You pressed the mug into his hands the moment his jaw dropped, pre-empting his words, “I refilled your hot chocolate. I stood no chance, they’re animals, and you were the newest squeaky toy. Luckily, the young have saved you, by nagging about the presents.”

“I’ll let you out of it this time.” He shook his head, serious like he was really mad, even as he leaned in to kiss your temple. His mouth moved to your ear, “Your family are very friendly.”

“They were excited to meet you. You’re fresh meat. How are you at pub quizzes? Because they’ll be all over you.”

He chuckled, and before he could say anything else, your mother was making the call to start cooking breakfast. Just like that, the room seemed to clear of men, all of them slipping away at the word ‘cooking’, taking the kids with them. Only the grandparents were left in the living room, excused from all chores, naturally. 

“You can go with the other men if you’d like.”

“I’d rather stay and cook with you… is that okay?” He glanced towards the kitchen, and smiled when you nodded. 

“Course you can. Come on.” Leading him to the kitchen, your aunts and cousins were already bustling around, working wherever your mother assigned them to. Your mother snapped her fingers to you, pointing towards the griddle that was heating up, all the ingredients for fluffy pancakes laid out alongside. 

Guiding Mattheo over to it after washing your hands, his cheeks went red as he stood before the bowl. “I, uh, maybe didn’t think this through. I don’t know how to cook.” He whispered, embarrassment tinging his voice as everyone around you both seemed to be getting on at speeds. 

“That’s okay, why don’t you mix the batter while I add the ingredients, hm?”

That brought his sweet expression back, letting out the breath he was clinging to, and pulling the bowl towards himself. You added each ingredient, weighing them up and measuring them out as he stirred the bowl continuously, switching between arms as he tired. On and on you went, until you had enough butter to make pancakes for an army, and he was eating leftover chocolate chips from the bag while you greased the griddle pan. 

He was watching eagerly as your cousin Ki grilled bacon, stacking up a pile that had his entire attention. 

“Mattheo, dear, do you want a piece of bacon?” Your mother snapped him from his dazed watch, and his jaw dropped open, the tips of his ears going red. 

You snickered, nudging him where he stood beside you, still clutching the bowlful of batter. With a shy nod, his mother picked up a piece handing it to him with a wink, and he beamed upon receiving it. 

Tearing off a chunk with his teeth and chewing, he turned to face you, leaning down to whisper in your ear, “I think your mother likes me.”

“I told you she would.” You said, a happy sound leaving him at the confirmation. Once the tray was ready, you grabbed for a ladle, and he held the bowl securely, the two of you working to set off the first batch of pancakes to cook. He shuffled every step with you, and while they cooked, you began to work on the second batter batch. “You want to try this time? I can help you.”

“Alright.” He nodded, setting the bowl back on the scale like he’d seen you start with. Scanning his hands over the ingredients, he reached for the flour first, holding it up in question. Sieving it through until you told him to stop, he smiled to himself as he watched the dust fall perfectly. A sprinkle of sugar, and a dash of vanilla essence, and then he circled in the centre with a spoon to create a well. 

“Alright, make sure you tap it lightly on the edge. You don’t want bits of shells in the food.”

He was so focused it was almost adorable, your heart skipping a beat as you watched him go, tapping the egg on the bowl so delicately your heart ached. “Like that?”

“Maybe a little harder.”

And then, he cracked it down with another force that the rim of the bowl went halfway through the egg, mangling the whites and the yolks, with splinters of shells going into the food. “Shit. I’m sorry.”

“S’okay, we can just pick the shell out and try again. Don’t worry.”

Dipping your fingers into the flour to pick out the pieces of shell, you discarded the broken egg to the side, and he helped fish out all the pieces, meticulously checking there was none left. Handing him a new egg, he eyed his cautiously now. 

“C’mere, let me show you.”

Guiding your hand down his arm to cup over his, you guided his hand down with the right amount of pressure, cracking the egg enough to slip your nails in and pull it apart. Taking his other hand too, you huddled in close, your hands over his by the bowl as the pair of you pressed to one another, pulling the egg apart and letting it fall into the well. 

“Perfect, see. You’re a natural.”

He turned to look down at you, eyes scanning over your face, a silent moment you didn’t know how to read, before he was turning back to it. You helped him with the second one, and then he did the third and fourth alone, cheering with so much enthusiasm about it that several of your relatives celebrated with him. 

He whisked the batter up, flipping the ones already cooking, and stacking them up on a plate before ladling out the batter he’d made. By the time they were finished, he was so eager to try the first thing he’d ever cooked that he almost burned his fingers as he snatched one up. Blowing on it hastily, he took a large bite, huffing some further breaths to cool it down. 

“So good.” He groaned, taking another large bite. Following as you took the plate to the dining table, lots of food was already laid out, your grandparents beginning to pile up their plates, and parents dishing up for their kids. 

“Sit down, get some of your pancakes while they’re still hot and there’s still some there.”

He didn’t need to be told twice, sinking into a seat and grabbing for a plate. You sat with him, and soon, the whole family was gathered around, filling plates and chatting happily as the sleepiness wore away and the festive excitement settled in. 

Chatter went on around you both as Mattheo gave it his best go to eat his body weight in bacon and pancakes, only pausing when you reminded him that there was still plenty of food left to go over the course of the day. He was happy to sit and listen to the conversation going on around him, but when the attention turned to him, he stuttered over his words. 

He was nervous to answer any questions that came to him, your hand sliding into his under the table and pulling it onto his lap. It took him several questions to realise that they weren’t bothered by his family name. In fact, nobody asked him about his father, or his mother. He had one question about Tom, but only with respect to him being a brother, not a Riddle.

When this realisation washed over him, the way he lit up was obvious. Nervous responses became animated ramblings, talking with excitement and purpose as he responded to every attempt anyone made to get to know him. 

He admitted to your Uncle Jamie that, no, he’d never been fishing. Your father asked him about his grades at school, and your mother berated him, before asking Mattheo about his favourite classes instead. Your Auntie Sally told him all about how she had been sorted in Gryffindor while her brother Steven had been Slytherin. They had epic battles on the Quidditch pitch, no pulled punches, and wondered if that rivalry still lasted. Your Uncle Steven asked him what his hobbies were, and he shyly admitted how much he loved art, which led to your grandad waking back up from his dozing just in time to start telling the same old story about the two-month spell he’d spent as a police sketch artist in the fifties.

He seemed more than happy to talk, settling into the dynamic of the room, and you took your plate to the kitchen, tidying it away. With a kiss on his cheek, you let Mattheo know you were finally going to change.

By the time you stepped back into the room fifteen minutes later, the children were frantically tugging at their adult’s arms to go back through for gifts, the sugar rush starting to kick in. Mattheo was helping to gather dishes away, arms out as your Auntie Sally piled plates and bowls into his arms, his eyes wide as she spoke to him about something. 

You followed them through to the kitchen, not failing to miss the occasional drop of your name in the conversation, clearing your throat dramatically and stealing the spotlight. Your Aunt only grinned over her shoulder conspiratorially, unstacking the dirty dishes from Mattheo’s arms into the soapy water of the sink. Mattheo, however, sagged with relief as you appeared. The moment his arms were clear, he was sweeping back over to you, taking a handful of your Christmas jumper and tugging you to his side. 

You stumbled along after him out of the room. “The second you left the room, they were all over me. What are my intentions, what are my feelings, when will I ask you out—” His voice hit a shrill note, and you chuckled, unclenching his hand from the material of your sweater. 

“I made it very clear to them before today that we weren’t dating. You don’t need to worry about that, they’re just messing with you.”

“I wasn’t— I wasn’t worried, so much as intimidated! They’re scary people.”

“Are you trying to imply I’m not scary?” You tease, taking the edge off of his nerves as he rolled his eyes, focusing on that instead of the conversation you’d just freed him from. 

“Oh, I’ve seen you in action. You’re terrifying when you want to be.” He muttered, leaning down to rest his forehead on your own, voice dropping low. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget the way Draco screamed when you filled his bed with grass snakes.”

“Yes, well, perhaps that’ll teach him not to steal my skin products just because his own ran out.”

“Come on, you two. Presents time.” Sally emerged from the kitchen, clapping her hands and smirking, and you groaned. Taking Mattheo’s hand and guiding him through to the living room, you snatched up a seat on one of the sofas quickly, Mattheo squeezing in beside you. 

Children were already tearing into their presents, ribbons and bows and paper were already scattered around the room in a messy storm. Your mother pottered through with a tray of mugs, your father following, and you smiled gratefully as she passed you a mug of herbal tea. 

As the mayhem went on, Mattheo settled back into the sofa, tugging your wrist closer to himself and sniffling the contents of your mug before taking a sip. He was perfectly happy to sit back and watch gifts be opened, to gather wrapping paper from your presents onto his lap and scrunch them up into balls. 

Until one of the toddlers, Elliot, pulled out a gift from under the tree and flipped the label over. He struggled over it for a while, sounding out the sounds he could see written down. “Math..ee. Matt-ee-oo.” He mouthed around the word as Mattheo stiffened beside you. “Matthew.”

His head snapped up, looking straight to Mattheo as his mother corrected him softly, lowering her camera from filming him and pointing. Elliot carried the gift over, placing it into Mattheo’s hands, before dashing back to the tree to search for more gifts of his own. 

Mattheo smoothed his fingers over the paper and ribbon, flipping the tag over to be sure, as if he didn’t quite believe it. Your handwriting neatly scrawled his name on the paper, and his eyes flickered up to you. “You did this?”

“Mhm. Open it.”

You pulled up your legs, tucking them underneath yourself and watching excitedly as he ran he tugged at the bow. Undoing the ribbon, he curled it up carefully, setting it aside next to his leg and flipping it over. Running his fingers over the edges, on the left side, they bumped along, and a smile cracked on his face. He repeated the motion, feeling more firmly through the wrapping. “Is this was I think it is?”

“Open it and find out.” You poked him with your toes, and he pushed his fingers under the folds of the paper, opening the seals and tearing it away from what was inside. He stared at it once it was free, fingers dusting across the ornate cover, flipping it open to look through the blank pages, to admire the paper quality. 

“You got me a new sketchbook?”

“Hm. Not just any sketchbook, though. It’s an enchanted one. It’ll never run out of blank pages.” His jaw dropped, turning back to look at it. 

“I’ve never— I didn’t even know such a thing existed. Where did you get it?”

“An art store, at Diagon Alley. I was just going to get you a regular one, but then I found this.” You shrugged, and his eyes were glistening when he looked up again. 

“I love it. Thank you.” He clutched it to his chest, never looking away, not hiding his emotions this time even as his nose scrunched up a little and he sniffed. The busy noise and action went on around you both, but as he stretched on hand out to squeeze yours, it was like the two of you were all alone. Emotion clogged in your throat, your chest ached for him, such a visceral reaction to such a small gift. Tipping your head toward the tree, you laughed lightly. “There’s a couple more over there for you.”

“What?” His voice was shaky, glancing at the Christmas tree as some of the others gathered around it now, the children done and satisfied as they began to pay with all their new toys amongst the mess. 

“Go on, go and get involved.” When he hesitated, a smile breaking free on his face, you encouraged him again, and he took a seat beside your mother by the tree, one more look back at you before beginning to search for the ones with his name on in the pile. 

You opened and smiled at the gifts you were handed, grateful for them all as your family passed presents around, but you were distracted. 

Distracted, watching the joy on Mattheo’s face as he opened another present, looking up at you as he opened a new set of colourful quills and chalks, the blush on his face when he unwrapped an ornament with ‘Baby Boy’s First Christmas’ written on. He glared at you with red cheeks, but held it carefully, and searched for a spot to hang it on the tree at your mother’s insistence. Distracted as you pulled out your phone, taking covert pictures of Mattheo with one of the biggest smiles you’d ever seen him wear. 

He found another, settling it on his lap, his attention diverted as Jess’ son Aiden tugged at Mattheo’s sleeve, shoving a toy racecar into his face. Mattheo was polite, asking all kinds of questions, letting the boy run the car up and down his arm, and over his face, even as the small tyres went in his eye. When he finally grew bored of tangling the model Ferrari in Mattheo’s hair, he pointed at the gift still sitting in his lap. 

Mattheo lifted it, showing it to him as Aiden slumped down across Mattheo’s shoulders lay across his back and tugging at the ribbon. He helped to open it, and while Mattheo’s face lit up, Aiden’s scrunched up, turning to glare at you on his new friend’s behalf. 

“Ew, Auntie (Y/N), why did you get him a colouring book? Colouring books suck.”

Your laughter was hidden by Mattheo’s even as Jess scolded her son, and he stood, bringing it back over to you as his amusement died down. It was no ordinary book, it was a stress therapy colouring book, and by the way he was already flicking through the drawings inside, you could tell he liked it. 

Stacking it on top of the sketchpad with his new quills and chalks. He reached for your mug, taking it from your hands and putting it down on the table by the sofa before tugging you up. Your body flew into his with the force of it, his arms wrapping around you tightly, and his face buried in your neck. 

“Thank you.”

“Just a couple of gifts.” You smile, rubbing his back gently as he sank further into your touch, leaning his weight onto you. Your friendship group had already exchanged presents before leaving for the holidays, you’d done a Secret Santa exchange, and you’d given Blaise a new phone case and a basket full of chocolates.  

“It’s so much more than that, stop playing it casual.” He muttered, words vibrating along your skin. With one final squeeze, he pulled back, the two of you dropping down onto the sofa, and you kicked your legs out across his lap comfortably. He reached for his new sketchpad, cracking open one of the new quills, a green one, and adjusting you. He propped your legs up on his lap to lean his book on, his head falling to your shoulder as his side pressed to your torso, and that oh-so-serious look took over his face once again as he began to sketch. 

Sketching the Christmas tree.

Weaving your hand into his hair, you found yourself slipping back into that place where only you and he existed for a while, scratching lightly at his scalp and sitting still as he drew. 

He stayed like that for a long while.

Long enough for the sun to start properly rising across the sky, and the Church bells on the horizon to start ringing. The children had rushed off to start a new game, and the group had dispersed through the house to keep up with their own activities. He’d long since finished his drawing, and was now lying quietly on your shoulder, your hand still in his hair, his eyes closed as he rested, mumbling responses to the conversation the two of you were barely carrying. 

“I hate to disturb you two,” Your mother said, in a tone that suggested she very clearly did not hate to do such a thing, a grin on her face as she poked her head around the doorway, “But we’re about to start the baking. Did either of you wish to join us?”

Mattheo lifted his head, looking at you eagerly, and your hand slipped down to his shoulder as you pushed him upright again. “Go, make cookies.”

He stood, stretching out stiffened limbs. “Will you come too?”

You hadn't planned on it, much preferring to sit back and maybe take a nap. But, Mattheo was excited, and you’d long since decided that today was all about him. You could spare one Christmas to make him happy in ways he’d never forget. “Of course I will.”

He took on a happy look, and the two of you made your way to the kitchen side by side. Your mum left the doorway from where she ‘was not watching’, walking ahead. “So, what are we making?” Matt asked as the three of you joined the other few who had volunteered in the kitchen. 

“We have brownies over here, cookies on the island, and apple pie being made on the table over there. Take your pick, sweetie.”

“Uh… cookies?”

“Perfect. You’ll work with me.” She took his arm by the elbow, pulling him towards the island in the centre of the room. You took over at the brownie station, washing your hands before joining in. 

He put all of that polite, well-trained behaviour to good use as he chatted up a storm with your female relatives. They all loved him, laughing at his jokes and listening intently to his stories as he worked, barely aware of the attention that was on him as he stirred the bowl. Meanwhile, you spent the majority of the time trying to fight off all the little hands trying to reach up and snatch chunks of chocolate from the chopping boards, and stealing the bowls to lick.

You did, at least, manage to snap a picture of Mattheo with his cookie cutter before he spotted you. 

The children were clamouring for the dishes by the end. You were elbow-deep in soapy water and washing, a tray of hot brownies and out, cookies cooling, and more batches already in the oven as several pies sat out waiting for later. Mattheo was talking to one of your older Aunts, charming her with boyish tales of him and Theo and Draco, when she took the brownie batter bowl out of a sprinting Aiden’s hands from where he had grabbed it and run. 

He wailed loudly as his plot was foiled and she tutted at him. “Thieves don’t get treats, Aiden. You should’ve asked nicely. Only the nice boys get to lick the spoon.”

He frowned, crossing his arms over his chest, and knowing better than to fight back. She then turned back to the conversation, and held it out to Mattheo. “Matt, dear, would you like it?”

“Me?” He was as astonished as Aiden, taking the bowl and the spoon slowly and bringing them close to himself. You’d told your family a little more than you let on to Matt. You’d told them just enough to know that he didn’t typically have a good Christmas, that one of your favourite times of the year was one of his worst, and you wanted to make that better for him today. 

He picked up the spoon, licking the batter off happily, and crouching down with the bowl in his hands, holding it to Aiden. Swiping his finger through it, your nephew was pleased once again, and soon enough, Mattheo had a swarm of children hanging from him as he made the mistake of sharing something sugary. 

When he finally emerged, notably sans bowl, he wandered over to you, dropping the spoon in the sink. His jaw dropped to speak to you, attention stolen by the tugging of a small hand on his sleeve. Mabel was peering up at him, holding his colour therapy book in her other hand, and lifting it up. 

“Can I colour in’y’book w’you?” She mumbled quietly, and your heart burst in your chest as he slipped his hand down to take hers carefully. 

“Of course.” He let himself be guided away, back to the living room with Mabel, and your head dropped, hiding the smile as you continued to wash up. 

Jess leaned on the counter beside you, a cloth in her hands from where she’d helped with the rest of the cleanup, and you turned to look up at her. 

“I like him. He’s sweet.”

“You should see the pranks he pulls at school, he’s a menace.” Your joke amused her, a low sound leaving her as she wiped at the counters around you both for excess flour. 

“Yeah, but, I still think he’s a sweetheart. And he’s into you, that much is clear.”

“Don’t start with this,” You groan, drying off your hands as the last of the monumental amount of washing up was completed. “I told you, we’re friends.”

“Yeah, just friends.” She shrugged, “But just because that's all you are right now, doesn’t mean that’s all you’ll ever be, or all you want to be. I see the way you look at him. You like him.”

“He’s pretty. Every girl looks at him like that.”

“No,” She shook her head, and you couldn't bear to look at her as she read you like a book. Instead, you began prepping a new mug of hot chocolate. “You look a him like you think his soul is pretty, not just him.”

“Shut up.” Her poetic words made you blush, and she closed in on you, ready to make the final strike. “Don’t you dare—”

“You looove him. You got a big, fat crush on him.”

“I will push you off your broom myself.” Your scowl didn’t ward her away, she was only torn from smirking at you as your mother began to unload the next set of food to start being prepared for dinner. The turkey was already in, had been for hours, but she began to unstack pigs and blankets as trays of sausage meat stuffing onto the surface. 

Swiping up the mug, you followed the rumbling of Mattheo’s deep voice through the house. Sat on the floor of the snug, Mabel was lying on her stomach by his side as she coloured as neatly as possible onto the first page of his colouring therapy books with her crayons. Aiden was under his arm, holding up the instruction manual of a new Lego set, as a half-built model sat in front of them. 

Elliot was playing with some of Aiden’s toy cars, and eight-year-old Jessop was lying on the sofa, reading a book. Knocking two knuckles on the door, five heads all snapped up to look at you. Mattheo smiled as you stepped into the room, and Aiden grumbled at his distraction, going back to the Lego even as Mattheo pulled away. 

You offered him the new cup of hot chocolate, and he smiled as he accepted it, taking a sip. 

“You know the men are all gathered in the living room watching some movie about cars. They have a lot of beer, and an empty seat, if you want to join them.” You sang the words enticingly, hands on his hips as you swayed him to the beat of your melody. 

“What will you be doing?” He stepped a little closer, free hand going to your waist, too.

“I’ll help my mum with the cooking.”

“Can’t I help you cook, instead?” His whisper brushed your cheek as he leaned into place a kiss there, and your heart stuttered in your chest, taking you a moment to recompose yourself as he pulled back with a smile. 

“Of course you can… if that’s what you want, but you don’t have to. You’re here to have fun.”

“What makes you think I’m not having fun?” He mused, peering at you over the rim of the mug as he took a sip. “I’m having a ton of fun. Best Christmas ever, all thanks to you. I just want to be wherever you are today.”

“Well, then I guess we’ll be in the kitchen,” Your words are hardly audible as you say them, swallowing back the emotion in your throat as he held eye contact. 

“I guess we will, sweetheart.”

You turn to walk away, Mattheo following behind you as you lead him back to the kitchen. 

He was more than welcome once again, immersed straight into girl talk as your relatives grumbled and complained over their husbands. Mattheo put his suspiciously good rolling habits to use, wrapping sausages tightly in strips of bacon, and almost choking when your mother complimented his skills. 

He tried to hug you with raw hands, chasing you around the kitchen until your mother scolded him playfully, calling him back and having him lift the meats from the oven to be re-basted. 

He was chopping and peeling potatoes, nudging back and forth with his hip as you worked beside him, when your already-exhausted-looking Uncle Jeremy peered into the kitchen, Elliot dangling upside down from his shoulder. 

“The film ended. We’re going to take the kids out for a walk and burn off some of this energy. Anyone want to join?” 

He looked like he was desperately waiting for them to tire out so the drinking could start, Elliot climbing all over him like a playground frame and your mother shooed you both away. “You can go, c’mon. Go for a walk, let your grandparents and I have some time.”

The kitchen cleared out, shoes and coats and scarves were put on, and then you were all trudging out into the snow as your father shut the door, hands in his pockets as he followed you down the frozen garden path. Mattheo wore an old coat he’d borrowed from your father, zipped right up as he kept his chin tucked down inside it, hands buried in his pockets. 

“Oh, don’t pout, Matty. You’ve had colder than this.”

“How did we end up out here? I was cosy inside five minutes ago.” He pressed his hands even tighter into the coat as you linked an arm through his, snuggling up to his side as you followed the others along toward the fields you’d roam across for a while.

“My mum does this every year. We always host, but she kicks everyone out so she can check on my grandparents, and take a break for herself. She’ll have a large glass of wine, sit down in front of the fire, and watch an episode of whatever her latest reality TV show is, before we all come back.” The grass crunched under your feet as you stepped out onto the frozen fields, glittering and icy as far as you could see. “It’ll help you work up an appetite for the meal, though.”

“Your mother nearly gave me a heart attack when she asked me where I learned to roll pigs in blankets like that for someone who’s ‘never cooked a day in his little life’.” He produced his hands to make air quotes around his words, and only tucked one back into his pocket. The other, he took yours with, lacing your fingers together, and rubbing his thumb over your own. 

“I know. Your face was priceless. I actually got a picture of it.”

“If anyone ever sees that picture, I’ll hex you.”

“You mean it wasn’t okay for me to send it straight to the group chat? Oops.” He stuck out his tongue, but sighed, taking in the countryside around him as you walked through it. 

“You grew up here?”

“Nice, isn’t it? You murmur, looking around and letting the nostalgia wash over you as your thumb wrestled with his absentmindedly. “There’s a river nearby. We used to go down there as kids, this big group of us who lived here. We’d have picnics, and wade in the water and play on the rope swing.”

“Sounds fun.” He sighed, and you squeezed his hand, no words to comfort him coming to mind. He’d had no such freedom in his childhood, you knew as much from the snippets he or Tom would accidentally drop before they could stop themselves. “Sometimes I would walk around the grounds of the estate, but we were only allowed out if it was dry so we wouldn't get dirty.”

Resting your chin on his shoulder, you hugged his arm, snuggling into him as much as you could while still ambling on behind your chatting family. “Oh, Matty…”

“Normally, I hate hearing that. The sad, pitying voices.” He murmured, before twisting to face you, the tips of your noses brushing. “But when it’s you, I kinda’ like it. You don’t feel condescending, you just feel caring.”

“That’s because I do care.”

“I know.” He smiled, turning to face forward once again, and you rested your cheek on his shoulder instead, making it easier to walk along, huddled into his side. 

You remained in silence for a while, letting him soak it all in, pausing occasionally to take a picture or two of him looking at things. Even when he walked away, to pick up fallen pinecones, or to look at initials carved into a tree, he still came back every time, to where you patiently waisted, his hand finding yours or tucking you back under his arm each time. 

You were in the middle of taking several photos of him petting a walker’s dog when your father stopped, hands on his hips as he stared up at the greying sky overhead. 

“It’s going to start snowing.”

Mattheo’s head snapped up, eyes wide as he let the dog go, running to catch its owner. “How can you tell?”

The excitement was clear in his voice, standing up and brushing his gloveless hands off on his jeans. You snorted, he’d really done it now. “Dad has a sixth sense about these things.”

“You see, my boy, those clouds up there are called nimbostratus clouds.” He pointed upwards, hands on his hips as Mattheo adopted a similar stance, copying him and staring up at the sky. “They’ve been settling in all day, and now the sky is full. Not to mention, it just dropped a degree or two a minute ago. Now, it’s not that perceptible when it’s already this cold, but I’m good with temperatures, you know. And it always drops a degree or two right before it precipitates.”

“And, how do you know it’s snow, not just rain? Or do those kinds of clouds only make snow?”

You laughed again, linking your arm through Mattheo’s, and he twisted his head to press a kiss to your temple. He stiffened a moment later, just as you did, and you wondered if he realised what he’d done at all until after. He didn’t take it back, though. Instead, he relaxed a second later, still listening to your dad talk about how he just knows, can feel it in his bones when the snow comes.

“So, how many different types of clouds are there?” Mattheo asked after listening to the whole explanation.

That was how you spent the entire walk back getting to hear about all the different types of cloud formations. To his credit, Mattheo seemed to be genuinely soaking up every word your father said. He had questions, and opinions, which span off into a new chat about the water cycle and glaciers.

It was only when you were ten minutes out from home that your father’s prophecy came true, and snow began to fall in heavy flakes from the sky. The children squealed excitedly, and Mattheo caught the flakes in the palms of his hands, watching each one melt against his skin with a small smile on his lips. 

Finally, as everyone stepped back into the warmth to shake off the snow, and stomp mud off of their boots, it was like a stampede to get to the fireplace and warm up. Shaking out his hands and flexing his fingers, you took your time unwinding your scarf, hanging it up with your coat and peeling off your gloves. 

His cheeks, nose and hands were pink, and he was rubbing at his arms to warm up now that he’d taken off his coat. 

“My hands are cold.”

“I can tell.” You took them in your own, rubbing his frozen skin lightly. His fingers trembled a little in your hold, chilled to the bone, and you lifted your cupped hands together to your face. Softly parting your hands, you blew warm air between them onto his skin, your cheeks flaring with warmth at the gasp he made. 

Rubbing again, you repeated the actions until the shaking of his hands stopped, and you finally chanced a look up at him. He was staring down at you, eyes practically glittering and lips parted. He seemed lost for words for a moment, toying with the thoughts in his mind before finally settling. “I like it when you fuss over me.”

He took his hands back, tucking them faster than you could stop him under the back of your jumper, cold fingers splaying across your back as he tugged you into his body. His face pressed into the crook of your neck, cold nose dragging along your skin. No matter how much you groaned and wriggled, his grip was tight, chilling you with him as he stole your body heat.

Eventually, you just gave in, sighing as you stroked his back, letting him snuggle in for warmth rather than fight for a space next to the fire. Amongst the woodsy smell of his cologne, and the gingery pine scent of the Christmas candles your mum burned every year, something else lingered in the air. 

Berries, citrus fruit, and spices. 

“I think mum made mulled wine.” Your words were right beside his ear, and at that, he raised his head, scrunching his nose sweetly a couple of times before sniffling the air. “Want some?”

“I’ve never had any. Is it good?”

“Seriously? Matt!” Grabbing behind yourself for one of his hands, you hurried him through the house. Just as you’d suspected the morning’s tanker of hot chocolate had been swapped out, and now, a steaming vat of mulled wine replaced it. 

Grabbing two glass mugs, you set them out, pouring some from the little tap, and passing it to him by the handle. The cinnamon and orange smell so much stronger in the air now, and you moaned under your breath as you breathed in the steam. 

He held the mug in his hands, not even seeming to feel the heat seeping through as he blew on the surface, several times, before taking a tentative sip. You waited for his reaction, practically on the edge of your seat, if you’d had one.

“It’s…”

“It’s..?” You burst, waiting for his reply, and he dragged it out just to tease you. 

“It’s really good.” He eventually caved, taking another sip, and another, as you cheered. “Don’t ever tell my boy Theo I said that. He’d skin me alive. He hates the idea of mulled wine and refuses to touch it. It’s an insult to his Italian heritage, he says.”

“So is cream in carbonara, breadsticks, and chicken mince lasagne.” You scoffed, and he grinned at that.

He drank some more, the two of you sipping quietly on your glasses, before hearing the opening tunes of a movie on the TV. Refilling your glasses, you headed through. The room was only half full, some sat about chatting in the dining room, others upstairs, and some likely in the snug or their bedrooms. It left you plenty of space to lie out across one of the couches, stretching happily, and your toes didn’t even reach the other end. 

The kids were all gathered around on the carpet, and Mattheo paced slowly behind you, with no attention on his movements but all his attention fixed on the animations taking place on the screen. He sat next to your legs nudging them up into the cushions before twisting and leaning back, settling himself against you with his head on your shoulder, back to your chest, as he continued to watch. 

He didn’t see your flushed cheeks or your shy surprise, not as you hid your face behind him from the watchful eyes of the few members of your family that were in here, too. Reaching for one of the rolled-up blankets along the back of the couch, you shook it out, spreading it over his body for an extra layer of warmth. He made a happy sound, shuffling back further into you, and letting the hand not holding his cup fall to clasp your calf by his hip, stroking slowly. 

Your arms crossed over his chest, giving up on what little pretence you had. This day would already be one of your favourite memories that you made, you might as well give into the full depth of what you wanted, and really make it the best it could be. Whether anything came from it or not, you’d still have this moment, cuddling with him on the sofa as he watched The Snowman for the first time. 

Your fingers ran through his hair, tugging out wind-tangled knots loosely, and playing with the curls around your fingers. You were oh-so-fond of Mattheo’s natural hair, dipping down to bury your nose in the strands, and kiss to top of his head. He squeezed your leg again, tipping his head back enough to leave a kiss brushed on your chin, before quickly looking back to the screen, and finishing off his mulled wine. 

Your cheek rested where your lips had once been, glancing around the room. Most of your relatives only gave you a small smile, while your mother winked at you, and your dad offered a thumbs up. You merely rolled your eyes, thankful for the dark of the room and that they couldn't see your blush. 

By the end of the movie, Mattheo was turning to you, abject horror evident on his face, as everyone else seemed to get on like normal. “He melted?”

“He’ll be back next year, don’t worry.” You smile, and Mattheo shook his head, brows furrowed, a deep ridge between them that showed just how bothered he was by the ending. 

“But he melted! How is that— I thought this was a child’s movie!”

“It is!”

“That’s like killing the dog in a Christmas movie.” He stuttered, trying to keep his voice low despite his growing concern. You left a kiss on his forehead in an attempt to hide your amusement from him. 

“Then you’re gonna’ hate The Snowman and The Snowdog.”

“Say sike. You say sike right now, or I’m getting in that floo and going home.” He pointed in the direction of the fireplace, and your laughter broke out, spilling into uncontrollable giggles. He was not pleased with your laughing, even if he did wrap you up into his arms, smothering your face into his bicep and grunting unhappily. “You cruel, cruel woman. Finding joy in my misery.”

That only made you laugh more.

The day was going by too quickly for your liking, it felt like all you did was blink, and you found yourself instead sitting at the dining room table, Mattheo on one side, your Uncle James, Grandma Alice and Grandpa William teamed up with you as you tried to count through the Premier League teams before the other teams.

Someone else hit the buzzer first, and you cursed in a very unladylike manner that made your Grandpa chuckle. 

Mattheo wasn’t much help with general knowledge, but he was enthusiastic. He tried as much as he could to participate in the rounds, and whenever he did happen to get something right, the look that took over his features was enough to light the night sky. He’d cheer, and kiss your cheek, and scribble the answers down on the big answers sheet you’d been assigned. 

It went on and on, only ending when the timer went off for the turkey, and raucous shouting took over from every adult as the quiz was cut short. Mattheo was laughing, loud, his arm looped around your waist as he nestled you into his side, immersed in the noise and hubbub. One of your cousins was adding up the scores, and you already knew you hadn't won, but hearing all of the scores being read, you cringed at just how badly your team had done. 

Mattheo laughed into your hair, the other arm hooking around your shoulders to pull you into him more fully. 

“That was more insane than a Common Room party.” He grinned, spoken close to your ear, and you laughed.

“Why do you think I’m so good at handling you lot when you’re drunk and rowdy, hm?” 

“I have never seen anyone corral drunk Italians like you.” He pulled back enough to peer down at you, and you smiled. 

The moment was snapped away from you both by the clearing of the quiz sheets away. The pens and markers were being gathered by Aiden, while Mabel followed him around with a basket for him to drop them into. Once the seats were clear, the settings all started to come back, and you watched as the room was transformed once again from a disaster zone and back into an elegant eating space. Cutlery went down after the plates, napkins and glasses and a cracker at each space. 

Mattheo was called away to help carry in bottles of wine, filling each glass around the table while the parents began to get the children settled in at their small table in the corner. Meals had already been prepared for them, a small chicken carved up between them all, a couple of roasties and just enough veggies that there would be no tears on Christmas Day. 

Then, the adult table was filling up, you carried bowls of food back and forth; several different kinds of vegetables, potatoes, meats and gravies, sides and stuffings up and down until the table was full from one end to the other.

When you finally sat down and tucked your napkin down to cover your lap, Mattheo settled in beside you. He was checking out every bowl, the dish of roast potatoes you’d mentioned being most excited for seemed to have conveniently found itself placed right in front of you both, and he smirked into his wine as you mentioned as much. 

Your father stood at the head of the table by the turkey, ready to carve, and the room fell quiet as all attention moved to him. Save for the ecstatic chatter of the children, that is. Your father held the meat-fork in one hand and the knife in the other, pausing just over the top of the turkey. Looking back up, he pulled back. 

“Mattheo,” The man beside you still as he placed his glass down, and all attention fell to him. “Come and carve for us.”

Mattheo’s stumbled response was adorable, and he untucked his chair when your father repeated himself. He walked slowly toward the head of the table, taking the instruments from your father’s hands. He paused, splotches of read coming back to his face, but before he could admit to being lost, your dad was guiding him on where to poke and how to slice. 

As soon as the first slice fell out and he lifted it off, clapping and cheering sounded around the room, and you made sure you were the loudest, his proud smile directed at you as he looked right at you. “First slice for you, sweetheart?”

You passed your plate along, all the way to get the meat from where he stood, before it was passed back to you. 

He kept going, slicing again and again until his wrist hurt, and he put down the knife and fork carefully. Stepping back for your father to take over, he clapped Mattheo on the shoulder. “Good job, son.”

It was spoken mindlessly, casually, as your father got back to work carving the meats, but it meant the world to Mattheo. His jaw dropped, and for a second he was frozen. You were almost worried he’d bolt, before he was speeding back over to the chair and took his seat beside you once again. He didn’t mention it, but he did let out a shaky breath, and took a heavy gulp of wine as his hands shook.

Your hand landed on his thigh, stroking lightly as he reached for the bowl of potatoes. “You okay, honey?”

“Never been better.” His tone sounded flat but you believed his words, watching as he dished up some potatoes onto your plate and his, picking out the ones that looked the best to give to you. “I carved a turkey.”

“And did a mighty fine job of it too.”

“You think?”

“Mhm. I’m very impressed.” You served up carrots and parsnips and Mattheo did mashed potatoes, dishes swapping about across the table, up and down until everyone had what they wanted. 

In a blur of good talk and food, you set into polishing off the plate before you, watching Mattheo try each and every item. 

“What’s normally on your Christmas Dinner?”

“Uh… well, father goes hunting with his business partners in the week leading up to Christmas, and normally he makes me and Tom go too. He’ll choose the best pheasant from the day, and that’s served. Along with a turkey, gammon, beef, lamb, and some kind of vegetarian wellington or roast.”

You watched him slice off a piece of his turkey, eyes rolling a little as he hummed happily, combining it with a piece of stuffing. 

“All the usual trimmings, too, to put on a show. But we weren’t allowed to eat them. Mother only let us have things that could be considered elegant.”

A snort left you, and he smirked. “What exactly is considered an elegant Christmas dinner food?”

“Things that can be eaten with a fork. Meat, roast potatoes,” He chopped smoothly down the centre of a crispy roast potato, stabbing it in one smooth move and putting it neatly into his mouth. “Stuffing and sprouts. That’s about it.”

“That’s awful! What about the pigs in blankets?”

“Roll around too much when you try to chop them.” He shrugged, and you scoffed. 

“So do sprouts?”

“Ah, but sprouts are a classic Christmas dish, and mother is nothing, if not traditionally elegant.” He made a show of chopping into a pig in a blanket now, savouring it as he ate it. “First time I ever had a Yorkshire pudding was second year, Tom took me to a pub in Hogsmeade. Changed my life.”

“Matty…”

“Don’t feel too bad for me, sweets.” Turning to you, he dipped a little closer, a smirk on his lips as his voice dropped. “If I didn’t have my sad, pathetic life to tell you all about, I wouldn't have a sob story to use to get a pretty girl to fawn over me.”

“Oh, please,” You muttered, shaking your head to hide your blush as you turned back to your meal. “Now you’re just flirting.”

“I’ve been flirting this whole time, you just never want to see it.”

Your eyes rolled at his smirk, and you twisted away, tuning back into the conversation going on around the table.

Mattheo loved his dinner. He ate everything on his plate, and at your relatives’ encouragement, he had seconds. Christmas crackers were popped, jokes were read and the little toys were exchanged around the table until everyone had a useless trinket they were happy with. 

He proudly wore a bright green paper crown on his head, and forced you to wear the orange one that popped out of your cracker too. 

By the time he was nibbling his way through a third plate, his hand was on your thigh, squeezing as he sat slumped in his seat. Jeans unbuttoned under his sweater, he patted at his stomach, content and full. You dipped another roast potato in a pool of gravy on your plate, dragging it through slowly. Lifting it, you took a bite, and he tipped his head, lips parting for the next bite. 

You offered it to him, and he pulled the bite from the fork, chewing with a hum as he listened to the storytelling of the previous Christmas’ that was now taking place. 

Before the food took you out into a food coma, your mother forced clean-up to take place. Bin bags were stuffed full, gifts were tidied away to respective cars and bedrooms, and the washing up was done, the table was cleared. When everyone put their minds to it, it didn’t take long, and you found Mattheo stacking the lad of the leftover tubs into the fridge. 

“We’re going to put some more movies on, and drink mulled wine ‘til we get tipsy. You staying for that?”

“Wild horses couldn't drag me away.” Mattheo smiled, turning to you as your arms wrapped around one of his, guiding him back to the living room before all the seats had been taken. You sat down first, and he quickly found a home leaning on your chest once again, your arms crossed over his chest, and one of his hands laced with your own. 

The other rubbed up and down your forearm slowly, getting himself comfortable as he groaned, spreading out as much as he could. “Did you eat too much?” You teased, and he pinched your arm, shaking his head. 

“I will never be defeated by food.” Despite his claims, he shifted once again, lowering into the couch cousins. Wine was handed out, the lights turned down, and Love, Actually began to play. Clearly, Grandma Judie had chosen the movie. 

That statement came to haunt him halfway through, though, when your mother arrived with a cheeseboard, handing out small plates, and pressing one into his hands. He was ever so polite, he’d never turn it down, and as she passed the box of crackers around to him, he piled three neatly onto the side of the plate. 

“Take more than that, dear. Come on.” She encouraged, and you hid your face against the top of his head to hide your laughter, as he added another three. Then came the cheese, and you swore you could feel Mattheo’s hesitation as he added slices and cubes of various cheeses to his plate, all under your parent’s watchful gaze to make sure he was taking enough. 

As he settled back, you brushed a kiss to his temple, and he tipped his face up towards you a little more. A smile was on his lips, the plate untouched and balanced in his lap. 

“You sure you’re not being defeated?”

“Me? Never.” He grinned, lifting a cracker with a slice of mature cheddar on up to you. “I made sure to get enough for us both, don’t you worry.” 

You didn’t have a chance to argue, the moment your mouth was open, he was forcing the savoury snack into your mouth, a wicked glint in his eye as you chewed slowly. Over mulled wine and cheese nibbles, the movie finished and another one began, this time chosen by one of your cousins. It was more upbeat, not a classic like the last had been, and there had almost been a row over it. 

Classic, or new. Mattheo had sat back and watched in astonished amusement as comments were thrown around the room in an argument for which was better. Eventually, a coin was flipped, and half the room had to grumble and accept it as the other half sat smugly.

The night was fully upon you by now, darkness had taken over as the evening ticked by. The curtains were drawn, candles were lit, and both your sets of grandparents had called it a day and gone up to bed already. The babies had long since fallen asleep too, setting a kind of quiet and peace over the house. 

Mattheo had gone still in your arms a long time ago, dozing between sleep and awake, finally having conceded after his second cracker and left the plate alone on the coffee table. You were sure he’d never admit it, though. 

You were comfy and happy. With the weight of him pressing down against you, and the blanket you’d thrown over your bodies covering you both and keeping you snug, you were sure that this was what you’d call perfect. 

The smell of spices and apples filled the house, your excitement renewing toward the end of the second movie as the time ticked on. Most of the children had fallen asleep, bowls of ice cream left on the kitchen counter from their own desserts, and long since tucked into bed to sleep. 

Your Aunt got up to check the oven, and moments later she called to let you all know that the treats from earlier in the day had finished cooking. “Mattheo.” You nudged, excitement racing through you, and the man in your arms stirred a little. He grunted, rolling over slightly and gripping one of your arms a little more firmly. “Matt!”

“Not right now, sweetheart. M’ sleeping.” He muttered, huffing a heavy breath out, and you chuckled. 

“You’re gonna’ miss dessert, though.”

That got his attention, one eye cracking open, quickly followed by another, and he sniffed at the air. “Smells good.”

“Mhm, so get up, and we can go and get some.”

Your family had already begun filing through to the kitchen, a new excitement surrounding the food as chatter took back up, laughter and new energy taking over. By the time you finally managed to join them, all of the various tray-bakes and puddings had been dug into, and you snatched up a plate to begin serving some to yourself. Some apple pie at one corner, some brownie at another, a scoop of ice cream in the idle, and a stack of cookies at the edge. 

Mattheo shuffled in a few moments later, sleepy and stretching, trying to hold in a yawn as he looked around. Upon finding you, he made his way over, slumping down to rest his head on your shoulder as you plucked two mismatched spoons from what was left in the cutlery drawer. 

Handing him one, he sighed, breaking off a large chunk of brownie and some ice-cream, before finally raising his head and eating the spoonful. With a groan, he told you just how good he thought it was, and went back in for more before even finishing his mouthful. 

The two of you shared the plate between quiet chatter, talking about his day, as Mattheo recounted for you almost every moment. His eyes were sparkling as he got a second helping of brownie for you both, forcing his spoon between your lips when teased him for his excitement, and wiping the edge of your mouth when you glared at him. He was so light, bursting with a kind of happiness you rarely ever saw in him. 

So much tended to weigh Mattheo down, so much of the time. He was a person who was burdened with struggles and troubles, and while he was exceptionally good at making the most of it, and finding silver linings, sometimes, it would eat away at him after too long. Darkness would crawl in at the edges, in the form of exhaustion and temper and emotional outbursts, and you’d find him staving off a panic attack with a cigarette between his lips, leg unable to keep from bouncing as he stood atop the astronomy tower. 

He didn’t look hopeless and world-weary now, though. Right now he looked happy. Full of the kind of happiness that lit a person up from the inside out. He looked like he was at peace, even as he stood huddled with you in the corner of your kitchen eating a shared piece of brownie, while your family around you began to trickle out as the night went on. 

Soon enough, even one more bite of sugar was too much, and you were slumped lazily back onto the couch. Mattheo was lying half across you as the last of your aunts and uncles quietly carried their snoozing children to the fireplace of the cars, ready to floo or drive home. Each and every one of them had bid him a goodbye, telling him how nice it was to meet him as he returned the sentiments with red cheeks and a bashful smile. 

“I suppose it’s my turn to go now.” He mumbled, your fingers running once through his hair, and your mother poked her head out of the kitchen where she’d been chatting with your aunties who were staying, over a cup of tea. At least, you thought they’d been chatting, clearly, she’d been eavesdropping. 

“Oh, Mattheo-dear, you’re not staying over? We thought you would.”

“You did?” He sat upright a little more, eyes wide, and your mother only nodded to him. “I’d like that… as long as I wouldn't be a burden to you.”

“A burden? ‘Course not, dear. You’re a treat to have, and an extra set of hands on Boxing Day is always handy.” She hummed, clearly pleased with her meddling as she disappeared. Mattheo accio’d for a notebook and a pen, sending a lazily scribbled note addressed to his housekeeper through the floo, to inform them of where he was staying for the night. 

As he stood by the fireplace, folding the note and waiting for the flames to change colour, you wrapped your arms around him. Pressing your face between his shoulders, he sagged back into you, relaxing into your touch. 

Orange flickered to green, and he tossed the note in, watching it disappear to ash in the flames in a split-second, before the warm glow was back. 

“Come on, Matty. Let’s go upstairs.” You whispered, and he slipped a hand down to take one of yours from his stomach, lacing your fingers together. Lifting your hand up, he issued the back of it, before turning, and letting you guide him away upstairs. 

You guided him through the house, the floorboards squeaking quietly under your feet in certain spots. “You can stay with me.” You murmured quietly, and he only nodded. 

Opening up the door to your bedroom, his eyes immediately started flicking from one corner to the other, taking in every detail. It was fairly sparse these days, most of your most important possessions came to Hogwarts with you, and everything else, you’d had a big clear out of. Your skincare bottles were all lined up along the dresser, your laptop on the nightstand, and a few half-burned candles littered around. 

One thing you always had, was candles. 

Gathering the bottles you’d left out, you slipped away to the bathroom to get ready for bed before exhaustion took over. 

When you returned, Mattheo was looking through the drawers of your wardrobe. “Searching for something, or just looking for all my dirty secrets?” You tease, and he jumped a little, but smiled as he turned to you. 

“Where are your spare blankets?”

“Given out to all my cousins and relatives who are staying over. Why?” You pulled out a lighter from your nightstand drawer, moving from one candle to another and beginning to light them. He scratched at the back of his neck, and you raised a brow. “Matt, you’ll sleep in the bed, not the floor. Are you insane? It’s freezing, and uncomfortable.”

“I— Are you sure? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” 

“You could never,” You murmur, flicking the flame out once they were all done. Most of your drawers were half-empty, and it didn’t take long for you to search through and find an oversized sleep shirt for him. Unfortunately, it was pink. “You want something else to sleep in? I can lend you a shirt, but I don’t have any shorts that would… suit you.”

A flush rose to your cheeks and you actively fought any kind of mental images from passing through your mind. Particularly any that involved Mattheo, and a pair of booty shorts. 

He accepted the pink tee with a grin, stripping his jumper off and over his head. Folding it neatly and leaving it on your dresser, his t-shirt followed, and he donned the hot-pink band shirt with a half-faded Taylor Swift setlist on the back. 

“Enzo would love this shirt.” He muttered, frowning at you as he admired the huge print of her across the front. Undoing his belt, you quickly diverted your gaze, turning back to the bed and tossing throw-cushions out of the way. You heard the rustle of denim, the clink of his belt as he folded it, and then the squeaky steps on the floor as he crossed the room. 

“Do you want to watch a movie before we sleep, or are you—” Arms curled your waist, his face pressed into your neck, and your words stuttered off as he tugged you back into himself firmly. “Matty?”

He shuddered against you, and you turned in his arms despite his tight hold, cupping his face and forcing his eyes up to your own. 

“Mattheo?”

“Thank you. For today, thank you so much.” He leaned in, a kiss on your cheek so soft you could barely feel it. Then another, and another, firmer as he worked, muttering his thanks between kisses all over your face, mumbling his appreciation. His voice cracked as he kissed your forehead, and he sniffled as he moved down to your other cheek. “This was one of the best days of my life, thank you.”

“Matty honey,” You pulled back, enough to see his face as his water-lined eyes shone gold in the flicker of the flames around the room. “It’s okay. It’s okay, I wanted you here. I was so happy to have you here, this was perhaps the best Christmas I’ve ever had, too. Watching you be so happy, making you this happy, it made it so. I love seeing you smile.”

He hiccuped a sob, nodding a little as your thumb swept over your cheek. He attempted to choke back tears, and you shushed him quietly. “I didn’t— I didn’t get you any presents, I’m sorry—”

“Mattheo, stop. Please, look at me. See how happy I am right now.” His eyes scanned over your face, fighting the battle against the tears wanting to spill over. He was clinging to your waist, hands bunching at the sleep shirt you wore as he tugged you in a little closer. “Please smile. That’s what I want you to get me for Christmas. I got snow, I got my family, I got to see you. Now let me see you smile.”

He sniffled through a laugh, the lines of worry etched onto his face finally smoothing out. He smiled, watery and weak, but he smiled, letting out a heavy sigh.

“There he is, my pretty boy.” You pinched his cheek, his head tipping a little further into your hold, his eyes fluttering shut. 

“I’m in love with you.” The worst bubbled from him in uh a rush they almost blurred together, but his body finally sagged, like he was losing the very tension that even kept him upright Swaying forward, his forehead fell to settle on yours, like he was collapsing. “I’m so, so fucking in love with you, and I just had to tell you that. After today, after everything, I couldn't keep it to myself anymore.”

His nose nuzzled against your own as the words he’d said settled over you. “Oh, Mattheo. After all that I just said, you don’t know how I feel about you?”

“‘Course I do. Why do you think I finally had the courage to say it?” Tipping his head up, he kissed the tip of your nose, arms sliding properly around your waist. 

“I love you, Mattheo.” You murmured, shifting up enough for your lips to brush his own, and he smiled against your lips. 

“You are the best thing in my life, sweetheart.” His confession was followed by his mouth closing over your own. A kiss that emptied every part of your mind, you could only focus on him. The slow movements of his lips, drowning in the feel of him pressed up to you, mouths making slow motions as you crossed that line between friends and more. 

He pulled back for a breath, and you chased after him. Your mouths collided once again, needy and desperate this time, his hand slipping up to tangle in your hair as the other slid low down your back. Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling yourself up to a better angle as your heart pounded against your ribs, a steady drum beat to match the rhythm of your lips. 

This time, when your mouth slid from his own, he left kisses dotted along your jaw, panting onto your skin but unable to stop. Only when he had kissed down to your neck, face buried in your hair, did he pause Hugging you close, his chest rose and fell as he moulded you to his body, fingers massaging against your scalp as his hand still resided in your hair.

Eventually, the two of you shifted to the bed, tucking yourselves snugly under the covers, wrapped around one another as you balanced the laptop on your lap, pulling up a movie. 

“What are we watching?” He whispered, between lazy kisses along your jaw, twirling a strand of your hair around his finger. 

“I was thinking Arthur Christmas. I think you’d like it.”

“Huh,” He murmured, pulling back as you turned up the volume and set it between you both. “Kinda’ sounds like Father Christmas, doesn’t it?”

You laughed against your will, taking his face in your hands and pulling him in for another kiss. “Godamnit, you’re cute.”

Suffice to say, he loved that one, too.

As fate would have it, Mattheo Riddle has a soft spot for animated Christmas movies.

[seullovesme]

need your attention » nakamura kazuha

pairing ⥬ kazuha x f!reader

genre ⥬ fluff

summary ⥬ you pay the le sserafim girls a visit after one of their stages and your time spent with a certain member was misunderstood by kazuha

sorry to my dear anon who requested this, ive been neglecting this for so long 😞

the attention of the le sserafim girls was caught when a member of the staff quite loudly questioned you, asking who you were and why you were trying to get inside.

the first one to recognize you was eunchae, she was surprised to see you and got the attention of the leader sitting beside her, telling her to tell the staff to let you in. "unnie! look it's y/n, tell them to let her in!"

the other girls heard your name and turned to see you standing at the door with a face mask on being talked to by some staff. chaewon got up and rushed to go and assist you while the members all smiled at each other.

she pulled the face mask off your face and grabbed your wrist, dragging you to where everyone had been sitting and she sat you right beside sakura before claiming her spot beside yunjin.

"y/n!" the eldest cheered as she hugged you as tight as possible, making your face turn a shade of red as you felt the air leave your lungs. "hey, stop hogging her!" eunchae yelled as she also lunged toward you and you yelped when she squeezed you too.

"guys stop! look at her, she's gonna pop!" they both let go of you to take a peek at your face and you gasped for air. "one more second and you may have actually suffocated me." you say in between small breaths, smiling at the affection of your friends.

"not our fault, where have you been? we missed you!" sakura said, going in for a much softer hug. you took your eyes off her and glanced at kazuha who was crossing her arms, looking disinterested. did she not miss you at all? you looked away and coughed as you noticed that the rest were all patiently waiting for your response, wondering if they saw you peek at the ballerina.

"w-well, i've been busy working at this new company and i actually got paid yesterday, so i was hoping that i could treat you guys out for dinner!" when you made the offer, the girls all got up and began squealing in excitement. it was nice finally seeing them again, you enjoyed watching them be so up and active, just being so cheerful. especially zuha.

but she didn't get up like the rest of them had. she just kept sulking in her seat. you could tell something was off about her and that she was thinking really deeply, but you chose not to say anything. you knew that she would tell you what was bothering her sooner or later, she always let you know what was on her mind.

they began discussing places to go and what foods they were craving. you watched them happily, ecstatic that you were able to treat them after all the times they treated you. you continued sneaking glances to kazuha, hoping to catch her looking at you as well, but her eyes were locked onto sakura. you turned to sakura and realized she had been talking to you.

"mm? sorry, say that again i wasn't listening." you laughed nervously and rubbed your neck.

"oh i was just asking if you had any preferences like what kind of food you wanted, or if there were any restaurants you were interested in going to."

you shook your head in response. "no, it's up to you guys. i'm not picky." sakura nodded and went back to chatting after you gave a small smile.

you looked back to where kazuha was sitting, but she was gone. you searched the room for her, eventually spotting her sitting at a vanity, mindlessly going through her phone. thinking back, she didn't have any input about food. was she not hungry?

you got up and walked over to her, hoping this was the chance to talk with her one on one and hopefully ask her to go out sometime, just the two of you. she didn't look up from her phone when you stood there awkwardly, sort of ignoring you.

"hi." you were going insane on the inside, your braincells going into a code red as you lost the ability to think of what to say. she put down her phone and made eye contact with you through the mirror, waiting for you to continue.

you cleared your throat. "so... did you not have any food suggestions? where do you want to go?" you asked, your voice a little shaky.

"hm. i don't know, why don't you ask kura unnie?" she said while she broke eye contact, picking at a thread on her shirt.

"what?"

"you should ask kura unnie, sure seems like she has a lot to talk to you about." she mumbled the last sentence, but you heard it clearly. you spun her chair to face you directly.

"what's going on? is everything okay, kazuha? you can talk to me, you know i'll hear you out." zuha sighed and leaned back in her chair as she crossed her arms. you pulled up a stool and when you seated yourself, you were a little shorter than her. you put a hand on her knee and gently stroked it as an attempt to comfort her.

"well, she's been hogging all your attention and you didn't give any to me. you didn't even say anything to me until now." she just looked away, embarrassed to have admitted her need for your attention out loud. "but i guess i understand, she's really pretty and all. honestly, i guess i'm.. glad she feels the same." she finishes hesitantly, her words lacking sincerity.

with the way you couldn't understand what she was talking about, it was like she was speaking another language. who feels the same about what? and she just wanted your attention? you blushed at the fact that kazuha flat out said that she was upset you didn't give her attention. she was adorable.

"what do you mean? sakura feels the same? about what?" you questioned.

"don't play dumb, i can tell you like sakura!"

you tried not to, but you laughed. "i do not like sakura, where did you get this from?" kazuha huffed and pouted, annoyed by your reaction.

"you were all over her earlier! you were basically giving her heart eyes." you scoffed at her response, rolling your eyes with a smile.

"heart eyes? all over her? oh please, we had two conversations."

"what about when she hugged you? you seemed to enjoy it a little too much."

"she was squeezing the life out of me, what do you mean?! plus, eunchae hugged me as well."

"well," she thought about another argument, but she didn't have anything else to say. "whatever." she went back to playing with the thread on her shirt, feeling kind of silly because you were right after all. there wasn't anything weird about what you were doing her member, but it still bothered her. just watching you talk to her when you hadn't even tried to talk to her once this entire time affected her tremendously. she felt frustrated with all these mixed feelings.

and you could tell. you saw that she was bothered, and she was even saying it out right that she was upset about your interactions with your other japanese friend. the only thing was that you knew how she felt. "zuha, you don't think you're a tad bit jealous?"

it was her turn to scoff. "jealous? of what? the fact that you like kura unnie and not me? pshh, no way." kazuha frowned slightly because she was, and it was making her say these stupid things. curse her stupid heart and it's stupid feelings.

"oh, kazuha." you lifted her chin, initiating eye contact but she just pouted, scared to look you in the eye.

"i told you, i don't like sakura that way. in fact, it's quite the opposite." she finally gave in and stared into the windows of your soul.

"she is pretty," you observed the twitch in her eyebrow when you said that. "but i think you are the prettiest girl out of everyone in the world." her jaw just fell and she watched the corners of your lips curl up.

"i'm sorry i didn't give you any attention. i know i usually do so i understand why you were bothered. you weren't used to it, were you?" kazuha shook her head, and you smiled as she eased up the tension in her muscles. you just needed to let her know that you understood, that's all.

"how about this, i give you my undivided attention for as long as you want this upcoming saturday, just us. does that sound better?" you offered and she was dumbfounded.

she uncrossed her arms and nervously rubbed her palms on her thighs, feeling the heat of your gaze cause her to sweat a bit. "are you.. asking me out?" you just nodded and watched as kazuha's eyes lit up. she clapped her hands together and flashed her sweet smile, and it felt like you were watching an angel spread it wings for the first time. it was just a beautiful sight to see.

"then yes! it sounds much better." she took the hand you had resting on her knee and held it tightly. you swooned over her touch, enjoying the way she shined. "i don't want any other girls to have you, you're all mine."

you raised one eyebrow at her words which kazuha picked up as you teasing her, and she hit your shoulder in response. you snickered, interlocking your fingers with hers and tugging her, pulling her up to stand. you gave her another smile and brought her back to the girls who were finalizing their choices.

you sat where zuha was sitting previously and pulled her onto your lap, wrapping your arms around her waist. the four of them turn to you two and carried on with planning like it was the usual. because it was, it was always you and kazuha, kazuha and you.

everyone knew you and zuha were like two peas in a pod, and it seemed that the only ones didn't were the people in question.

literally took me so long to finish one fic, wtf is wrong with me rn😒

[f1byjessie]

HE LIKES MY AMERICAN SMILE ━━ OP81.

love is a wild ride, and logan sargeant's sister is about to find this out the hard way.

( oscar piastri x sargeant!reader )

━━ part four.

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yourusername here’s a sneak peek of the photos from a shoot me and my beloved did for hermès! i’m so honored to get to work with so many skilled and talented people! none of this would’ve been possible without them

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user these are stunning!! 😍❤️

user I MISSED THE RIDING CONTENT

user genuinely had no idea y/n was a rider

↳ user no fr cuz the sargeants are all athletes in some way it’s crazy!!

↳ user i think she just rides casually now 🤔 but she used to compete when they were in europe

logansargeant do i get to brag and say my sister modeled for hermes now?

↳ yourusername there’s plenty of other brands i’ve modeled for that you could brag about 💀 and it was technically my horse that modeled

landonorris ok so are you gonna take me for a ride sometime?

↳ yourusername only if you promise to do the same

↳ user WAIT HOLD ON WE'VE MISSED SOME CHAPTERS

↳ user is y/n not with oscar???

↳ user this bitch is homie hopping the mclaren boys 😒😒

You have barely enough time to respond to the knocking— or rather pounding— on your door before it's being flung open and Logan, looking very much the part of an angry brother, barges in.

“Is it true?” He asks in lieu of a greeting.

“‘Hi, Y/N,’” you begin sarcastically, rolling your eyes. “‘So good to see you, Y/N. Sorry for barging in, Y/N. Can I have a moment of your time, Y/N?’ Why of course, dearest brother of mine. What can I do for you?”

Logan doesn’t seem amused by your antics, though. His eyebrows are furrowed, his mouth is pinched into a frustrated frown, and his hands are clenched into fists at his sides. He’s in his running clothes, and there’s still sweat keeping his hair plastered to his forehead, which gives you the impression that whatever he’s asking about had been deemed important enough that he couldn’t even be bothered to shower and change before confronting you about it.

You wonder, briefly, if his new trainer is downstairs in the living room or if he’s gone home already. You almost ask about it just to piss him off even more, but he looks genuinely serious and you’ve— mostly— grown past the years of purposefully picking on him to get a reaction.

Instead, you sit up further in bed and look at him expectantly, prompting him with a wave of your hand to elaborate.

“Are you dating Lando Norris?”

The question, and the sincerity with which it’s asked, startles a laugh out of you. The flash of hurt in your brother’s eyes, however, forces you to bite back the immediate retort. Logan isn’t asking to be a dick, you remind yourself.

Before you answer, you pull your legs up to your body and pat at the now free space in front of you.

He purses his lips, but eventually, he closes the door— softer than how he’d opened it— and moves to sit on the edge of your mattress. For a moment, as he looks at you, he doesn’t look like the nearly 23-year-old that he is. When you were younger, he’d come into your room and talk about his races, what all he did wrong, and what new things he was going to try next time, and the young man that sits before you now reminds you a lot of that little boy.

“No,” you answer him simply. “I’m not dating Lando. He and I are just friends.”

He doesn’t look convinced. “But do you want to date him?”

You shake your head and sigh, before grabbing your phone off the bedside table and pulling up the brief text conversation you had with Lando last night after he’d tipsily called you. There’s a frankly obscene amount of typos and more emojis interspersed throughout than you thought a guy like him would use, but the majority of it is all the details of his supposedly foolproof plan.

You take a deep breath, weigh the consequences of your actions for a split moment before throwing caution to the wind, and turning the screen to face Logan.

“I don’t want to date Lando,” you admit. “I want to date Oscar, and he’s helping me.”

Logan’s silent, and you pray that it’s just because he’s too busy reading through the messages to focus on reacting to what you’ve said. But the silence stretches on, and on, and on, and suddenly you regret saying anything. Maybe you should’ve just agreed and said it was Lando all along—

“I know Oscar better than Lando,” Logan suddenly says. “I don’t know why you wouldn’t just ask for my help.”

It’s your turn to be silent now. You open your mouth, close it, open it again, and close it again. You probably look like a fish, but you’re so taken aback by what he’s said that it doesn’t even matter.

“You’re not, like, mad?” You pull your phone back and let the screen fall dark, eyes focused on Logan.

He looks at you like you’re dumb, or like you’ve actually turned into the fish you were momentarily mimicking. He shakes his head— “Why would I be mad? Oscar is, like, the only driver I’d want you to date.”

You raise an eyebrow.

“I mean, the others are all nice, don’t get me wrong,” he clarifies. “I’m sure they’re all very good partners, and I bet Lando would be an amazing boyfriend. Probably. But I know Oscar. I trust him more than I trust the others because I know for a fact that he’s a genuinely good guy. That first year that we met him, he asked me what your favorite color was to make sure his mom knit you a hat that you would like.”

“That was years ago, Logan…” you trail off.

He shrugs. “So? It’s not like he’s changed that much. When we were still at Prema, and you went through that vegetarian phase, I caught him once looking up restaurants that have vegetarian options so that you could eat with us when we went out to celebrate.”

You glance down, avoiding Logan’s eyes. Picking at a loose thread at the bottom of your shirt, you say, “That was still years ago.”

“What about all the flirting in the comments,” he asks.

You shrug. You’re not even sure yourself. The way Sophia and Lando had explained things to you, it had certainly seemed like flirting, but the lack of his presence on your posts as of late has made you reconsider your initial beliefs and now you’re not sure what to think.

Realistically, all of this could probably be solved if you just texted him and asked— womaned up, as Sophia would say, and confronted him about your feelings. But there’s still that underlying fear of rejection, and you would never be able to live down the mortification if you did something so bold and had your confidence thrown back in your face.

“So you’re just gonna play pretend with Lando and hope Oscar gets jealous and does something about it?” He sounds genuinely confused. “Isn’t that… mean?”

“That’s what I said!” You exclaim, burying your head in your hands with an exasperated groan. “But Lando and Sophia are so adamant that it’ll work, and they have more relationship experience than I do. I don’t wanna manipulate him at all, but I don’t know what else to do to get his attention again other than talking with him, and I think I might actually throw myself into the ocean if I have to do that.”

Logan’s face scrunches up, “‘Again?’”

You purse your lips and awkwardly shrug as if that’s a good enough answer, but his silent stare persists, so you heave a sigh and fall backward against your pillows, glaring miserably up at your ceiling. “We kissed. Once. In Bahrain.”

He stands from your bed suddenly, pulling your gaze back onto him. His hands are on his hips, his brows are still furrowed and his mouth is still turned downward ever so slightly, but he looks less upset and more determined than anything.

“I’m gonna go get cleaned up. Be ready in thirty minutes,” he says. “We’re going out.”

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tagged: yourusername

logansargeant sometimes it’s just you and your sister against the world, and sometimes that means last-minute trips to the beach to remind yourself that it isn’t all that bad

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yourusername you didn’t really give me much choice tbh 🙄

↳ logansargeant yea ok well someone in this family has to have a sense of spontaneity 🙄

user wholesome sibling content is what’s keeping me going fr

user i’m so happy we’ll be getting more of y/n in the paddock in 2024!! 💙💙💙

landonorris is twin telepathy real?

↳ logansargeant totally

↳ landonorris you’re messing with me no it’s not

↳ yourusername it absolutely is that’s why me and logan are always on the same page

↳ landonorris fuck that’s so cool

user i’m ugly crying the fact that they’re twins makes them built-in best friends i can’t do this rn 😭😭

user the sargeant twins are keeping us fed this winter break

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yourusername sometimes self-care is sunsets and petty gossiping with your brother 

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logansargeant emphasis on the petty

↳ yourusername obviously

user girl idk how you can stand how cold the water is rn

↳ user i mean they kinda grew up in europe so maybe they’re used to it

user i wish i had a brother to gossip with 😫😫

user i NEED to know who they talk shit about PLS

alex_albon hopefully the east coast is having better weather than the west coast 🥲

↳ yourusername sunny skies as far as the eye can see 😌

user I’M REALLY WATCHING THESE TWO LIVE MY DREAM RN

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oscarpiastri ☀️.

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━━ tags: @f1-is-lovely-33 @chasing-liberosis @405rry @aquangxl

━━ a/n: we're going places! i'm very excited for what's in store with the next part! beyond that, though, i am seriously so thankful for how nice everyone has been with this. the reception was so much nicer than i ever could've anticipated, and i'm very excited to keep writing more!

[reticulating-splines]

WIP - West 70th

1880s-1910s row of Upper West Side townhomes.

Been working on this row of late 19th c. brownstones on and off for the past year now, so needless to say when I heard about For Rent I was hype.

Download Here

This initially started because I was homesick for NYC during the pandemic. Specifically for the area of the upper west side my dorm was in while I was a student. I mainly blame this experience for my obsession with historical architecture - walking along central park west past the Dakota on the way to the subway, smoking on the stoops of the brownstones late at night, going to classes in the wedding cake that is the Ansonia - it was just everywhere, and so, so beautiful to look at.

Except a lot of it is faded glory - buildings subdivided, details chipped or covered in the thickest coats of grime or paint. So I wanted to replicate some of the old New York from around the turn of the century. The one I read about in the Luxe series and saw in the Samantha movie lol.

The basement or garden level of each four-story brownstone will be dedicated to the original purpose as the main workplace of the service staff. Unfortunately no room for the actual garden, so laundry lines and planters are on the roof. There are bedrooms and bathrooms for a cook and a housekeeper/butler, along with the staff dining and the kitchen. The butler's pantry is directly upstairs from the kitchen, and the top floor is almost exclusively made up of staff bedrooms and washrooms.

I usually do the service areas first because they're the most interesting, and there was nothing more interesting than a full edwardian brownstone kitchen. Lots of exposed piping, beadboard, subway tile, and shelves of clutter. Has a separate scullery, pantry, and stairs down to a basement storeroom to keep your best champs-le-sims nectar in. There's also a servant's bellboard in the kitchen and the staff dining room. It along with the "boiler" system are made with tool and CC-free.

The main entrance and parlor are doing their best to continue the gothic revival theme of the exterior. The library and dining room follow in the enfilade starting in the parlor. Since this first house is a corner lot, it has a bit more width and space than a true brownstone. The only actual brownstone I've been inside of is Lady Mendl's, so ofc I had to have an extensive tea setup. Def took a lot of inspo from these two pics alone for these rooms.

The main stairwell and picture gallery lead to three large bedrooms on the second floor, and then up to the children's room and nanny's bedroom on the third floor. I really like skylights. I learned the importance of decent lightwells in staving off depression one semester when my window looked out onto a brick wall

The master bedroom and the children's room above it both have their own private sitting rooms and bathrooms. All rooms have either fireplaces or cast iron radiators.

There's no way this is going to be finished by the time For Rent comes out, so im just going to release it in whatever state it's in when it does come out. The exteriors and interior room layout for all the townhomes will (hopefully) most likely be set by then anyway.

Now available for download!

Also the anniversary of Chez Cromwell is coming up! Ive been gone for the better part of the year due to starting a new job, but I havent been idle. C.Cromwell has been updated for infants and ceilings, which led to me redoing the exterior and almost every room, so a rerelease is coming v soon! Sneak peek below. Happy Thanksgiving!

[pazzi-535]

In between (paige bueckers)

--------------------------------------------------------------

"Does this look good?" I say to Azzi "yes now you can look all nice for your little girlfriend" "she's not my girlfriend" I say rolling my eyes.

"I think we should go to Victoria's Secret, I've been needing some new underwear,” Azzi says. “Oh my God yes,” I said excitedly. We walk into Victoria's Secret and Azzi immediately goes to the underwear, while I walk around looking at pajama sets. I look around a little bit more when I see a lingerie set that catches my eye. 

All of a sudden Paige calls me “Hey, where are you and Azzi right now?” she says sounding bored “Hi Paige, me and Azzi are in Victoria's Secret right now” I say to her “Ouuu Victoria Secret you gonna send me sum” she says with a smirk ” stop it paige” I say blushing. Azzi comes over smiling “Who has you cheesing and blushing like that?” she says with a smile I start giggling “I'm making you blush in the middle of the store?” Paige teases me. Azzi immediately gets who I'm talking to and walks away “Paige can you please” I say desperately she laughs “What am I making you all worked up?” she says, I respond smiling  “Paige goodbye” 

I immediately go back to the lingerie set that caught my eye a few moments ago “I need to try this on immediately” I say to myself I go up to the changing rooms and ask for a dressing room I undress and I try it on loving how it looks as soon as I put it on I take some pics so I can send them to Azzi later I'm so excited it was a bit pricey for a college student but I couldn't pass up the opportunity. I immediately went to find Azzi, I tell her all about the call with Paige and she starts teasing me. 

I've had a crush on Paige since freshman year but we've been friends for what feels like forever It has always been me Paigeand Azzi and I'm scared to admit my feelings for Paigeeven tho Azzi says she  feels the same I'm Just really scared to put our friendship at risk I can't even think about what I would do myself without paige she's always been the light of my life

After the teasing, I tell Azzi all about the lingerie set and how I'll send her pictures later to get a sneak peek. Her face lights up. We go to Sephora and a sneaker store where I buy myself a pair of Black Cat. I've always loved these sneakers so I treated myself.

Nika calls me “Girl are we going out tonight?” sounding tired Nahiems has been giving her a lot of BS lately so she just wants to go out and let loose. I say of course I go straight to H&M Azzi helps me pick out an outfit since I needed a new one. It's a black long sleeve bodysuit showing a lot of cleavage and some gray cargos. I text Nika saying “Is Paige going to be there?” Azzi reads my texts then looks at me and laughs. I blush Azzi knowing I'm down bad. 

Fast forward 4 hours to where Nika and I are all getting ready to go to Teds and be the crazy college party girls we are. Paige and I have been texting all afternoon about literally nothing. That's one thing I love about Paige, how I can talk about nothing for hours and she’ll listen.

I start to change and for some reason, I feel scandalous and I decide to put the set on under my outfit no one is going to see but me so why not feel good right? 

Paige called me asking if I was ready because she wanted to pick me up. I asked why and she said no reason. So I of course made up a lie so I didn't have to tell Nika and Azzi I was going to be leaving with Paige. They had their suspicions and they knew something was going on with me and Paige 

The last couple of months we've definitely been more than friends but we haven't kissed or anything so I've been quite confused. She always says that we are more than friends and she cares about me a lot more than she does anyone else but she won't do anything about it. We almost kissed once, it was when I went to drop off Paige's basketball shoes . There was a lot of tension at the moment her hands on my waist, me looking into her eyes, arms wrapped around her neck and that was until of course Qadences dumbass cock blocked us. She just had to walk in on us while she was on live. I've always wondered where we would've been if Qadence didn't walk in but everything happens for a reason I guess.

I get into Paige's car and she gives me that stupid smile she always does. The one that makes me fold every time. Her eyes are extra blue her hair straight and we are almost matching 

“Hi,” I say blushing she catches on and says “Hi, you look so pretty” which makes me blush even more than before I stutter and say “Thank you” It's a short drive to Teds but she puts her hand on my thigh which she's never ever done before so it caught me off guard she notices me react and asks if I was okay I nod and she rests her hand higher, God shes going to kill me. 

we pull up to Teds and walk in Azzi and Nika of course ask if we came together. I say no and  Paige says yes and the situation is immediately uncomfortable. I respond with I'm going to the bar which Paige follows me I order a vodka cran and Paige orders her obvious dirty shirley classic. Paige pays for our drinks, I try to tell her she doesn't have to but she smirks at me.

She pulls me by my waist back to the table which I'm not necessarily mad about. After a few drinks she gets more and more touchy, another classic Paige moment but she has never been this touchy with me before.

I go to the bar to get out of her hold so I can breathe but of course, she follows me her hands wrap around my waist and she shoves her face into my neck i giggle because it tickles but she kisses my neck and it catches me off guard she takes her head out my neck and orders us more drinks.

Before I got to the bathroom I tell Nika and Azzi, they say okay I was hoping they would come with me but they didn't so I, of course, had to ask needy Paige and she follows me again I walk in and so does she she pins me to the wall and says “can we go back to my place please”.

--------------------------------------------------------------

TBC

[costinblazetwice]

Anniversary With Tzuyu (Male reader x Tzuyu) (smut)

“It’s really good Y/N.” Your girlfriend Tzuyu says with a smile after taking a bite of the eggtart that you had picked up on your stroll in the mall.

It was your guys’s one year anniversary and you had booked a trip to Paris, France to celebrate. Since morning the two of you have been out and about enjoying the scenery of the romantic city after having spent the previous day resting up from the flight.

“Let me try.” You said as leaned forward and bit part of the piece that was hanging out of Tzuyu’s mouth causing her eyes to go wide as she looked around in embarrassment.

“Why would you do that? We’re in public you know?”

You don’t answer as you’re too busy savoring the taste of the egg tart that was once on her lips. Besides this is Paris and seeing couples acting romantically wasn’t anything new.

You two continued to spend the day enjoying each others company including spending the sunset by the Eiffel Tower. As night time came the two of you headed back to your hotel, heart thumping knowing that you two would get the chance to do what you didn’t do due to tiredness last night.

As you two arrived at the hotel Tzuyu excused herself to the bathroom as you took the chance to scroll through your phone as you hadn’t had time throughout the day. You hear the door open and as you look up you drop your mouth and your phone at the same time.

Tzuyu walks out wearing a white lingerie kimono mix which is see through showing the white bra and panties she has underneath. She has a sheepish smile on her face which shows a mixture of embarrassment and flusterdness. But you loved it.

You quickly got up from the bed and put your hands to Tzuyu’s side watching her squirm under the touch on her bare skin. You turn her around and take in every second of the beauty right in front of you.

“When’d you get this?” You ask puzzled, not recalling Tzuyu ever having this set before.

“Remember when that package came and I said it was some hoodies I brought and quickly put it in my room? It was this.”

She puts her head against your chest and continues.

“I was so embarrassed buying this, but I thought you might like it…” she lifts her head to look you in the eyes.

“Do you?”

You couldn’t hold it in anymore. Those puppy eyes she looked at you with made you want to ravage her right there.

You pick her up princess style and lay her on the bed as she lets out a slight yelp at the sudden movement. You immediately crash lips with her, going for the tongue rather than taking your time.

“So beautiful.” You breathe through the kiss as you begin to remove the garments. “But they’re in the way.”

You remove the material covering her until you’ve reached her panties which she covers with her hands to prevent you from removing them.

“Wait honey, I didn’t get to shower yet.”

You laugh at how cute she seemed but if that was the case she should’ve taken one before coming out. Maybe she just wanted to give you a sneak peek? Either way you don’t mind as the pheromones that belong to Tzuyu drive you crazy, her personal scent which consists of Diptyque Do Son perfume which smells of gardenia, her sweat, and her musk that is completely unique to her

You press your mouth against Tzuyu’s dripping cunt, letting the musky scent that belongs only to her fill your nose as you begin to flicker her clit with your tongue. Your mouth filled with the salty wetness of her excitement and her whimpers filling the air only made you want to keep going at it, enjoying the sensation of her gently tugging at your hair.

“You like that?” You whisper pulling away for a second before diving in tongue first once more.

“It’s so good Y/N.” She breathlessly moans as her back arches and her hands go from tugging at your hair to pulling on the back of your head, wanting to push you as deep as your tongue can go into her most pleasurable area. She begins to rock her hips as well and with the sticky witness from her pussy only increasing in quantity and your raging hard boner now at its peak vitality, you decide it’s time for the next part.

You lift your head up as Tzuyu lets out a groan. She begins to protest with “I was so close” but you cut her off with a kiss, letting her taste her own juices. The two of you stay in the embrace for several seconds before pulling pull away.

“I can’t wait any longer.” You state as she catches a glimpse of your cock that’s pointing straight to the air in excitement. She nods as she adjusts the pillow beneath her head and adds a second one under her lower back lifting her lower half up to give you further access, just the way she likes it.

Tzuyu doesn’t need to tell you every little thing she wants or expects. She’s a shy girl and when the two of you first had sex there wasn’t much confirmation on what was good and what wasn’t. Over time as your relationship continued to build you began to find what works for her, what gets her hips moving a particular way, her breathing to speed up, and her whimpers to begin to loosen from her mouth. It’s pretty crazy that now we’re here at our 1 year anniversary and you’re able read her mind so easily in bed when that was something you struggled with.

You align your cock with Tzuyu’s entrance, teasing her as you rub against her dripping wet cunt causing the pleasurable friction to make her moan and also make the nerve endings at the head of your penis to go into a tingling fit, feeling as though you have fluttering butterflies kept within that are now moving uncontrollably.

“Stop teasing…” Tzuyu whimper out as she rocked her hips trying to get all the pleasure she can get. Her eyes were still closed and her head turned to the side. Begging for my cock being something that even all our time is something she’s rather shy about.

But you wanted to hear the words from her mouth on your guys’s anniversary.

“Tell me what you want. I want to hear it from that pretty little mouth of yours, Princess.” You say hovering over her, using one hand to keep you propped up over her and the other to gently take her chin and force eye contact between you two.

She whines in response lightly tapping at your abs, but you don’t budge.

You lean down enough to where you’re laying on her but not with your entire weight on top of her. Your bare cock touches her stomach and the leaking precum drips on her belly as the cold touch makes her shiver.

“I want my Princess to tell me exactly what she wants on our anniversary.” You nibble on her ear as you whisper this causing her to groan as she shifts her body.

To some this may seem overly cheesy, but you know just how Tzuyu likes it. For her the romantic connection has to be there and there’s nothing that gets her heart racing like hearing you calling her Princess inches from her ear. You know exactly what she likes.

“I want your cock.” She mumbles to the point where you think you imagined it.

“Say that again love.” You nuzzle your head into her shoulder with your ear directly by her mouth, craving oh so desperately to hear those words, knowing she’s just as desperate from her cunt juices that have soaked the bed sheets near her crotch area.

“I want you to put your cock inside of me.” Hearing your cute innocent girlfriend say the word “cock” almost made you cum right there, but you composed yourself.

“That’s my Princess.” You lift yourself up to give her a quick peck on her cheeks as you notice her unable to make eye contact with you as her cheeks ever subtly turn a rosy color.

You laugh silently to yourself. She really is the best girlfriend in the world.

With the amount of precum you have dripping out and the natural fluid dripping from her heat there’s need of minimal lube as you align with her center once more, and the plunge ever so slowly in, savoring the long drawn out moans of Tzuyu who takes the pillow her head was resting on and now uses it to cover her mouth, but the moans are still heard throughout the room.

Tzuyu’s not really a moaner but more so a whimper. When she’s enjoying herself the room is filled with soft yet quick whines rather than loud or exciting screams. And you liked it like that. Sex was something between you two, from the smell, taste, and sounds. No need to share it with the neighbors.

You rock your hips in a slow and controlled manner, just as Tzuyu likes. She wants to favor every feeling, loving the bliss she’s in when she can feel every inch of your cock entering and exiting, but you also include several hard thrusts as well to break the rhythm which make her whimpers start to resemble full blown moans. She bites harder on the pillow to prevent from being heard but there’s nothing more you’d like to see than your princes making such an erotic face and sounds for you.

You take the pillow and remove it, observing your innocent girlfriend who just a few hours ago was cheerfully eating an egg tart while walking with you in a shopping mall, and is now a smutty mess with tears welling, saliva ever slightly drooling near her mouth, hair a disheveled mess with parts caught up in her mouth, and her cheeks a rosy tinted color matching that of her lips.

It’s enough to make you cum right there.

Despite being in the steady rhythm that Tzuyu enjoys, the sheer eroticism of all that was taking place was putting you near your edge as you began to frantically increase the pace at which you were thrusting into Tzuyu. The squeaking of the bed increases as does the frequency of her little moans as the two of you are nearly at your tipping point.

“I’m gonna cum.” You smack into her one last time and let your cum release inside, seconds later flopping next to Tzuyu on the bed who’s attempting to catch her breath.

“That was amazing…” She speaks before you get the chance. You reach your arm out to the cupboard next to the bed and grab a few sheets of napkins which you hand to Tzuyu who slowly wipes at the liquid dripping from her cunt.

You place your hand on her stomach and rub at it, thankful for having such a wonderful human in your life. She attempts to get up to throw the dirty napkins away but you take your hand that was on her stomach and wrap your arm around her and pull her down into your embrace.

“Do it later please.” You groan against your girlfriend who attempts to wiggle out while complaining about it being dirty, but eventually she gives in by tossing the dirty napkins filled with mixture of your cum and her juices onto the cupboard as she melts into your embrace.

“Made you cum pretty hard there.” You say with a cheeky smile as she playfully slaps at your chest. She runs her hands through your hair with a slight smile on her face.

“Best anniversary ever.” She says with a laugh.

“But this is our first anniversary.”

“I know. But it’ll be hard to top this one. I mean it’s been perfect, but the best part?..” she trails off with a smirk on her face as you can feel energy beginning to return to your member down there.

“…was the eggtart.” She says taking the small remaining leftover from the cupboard and eating it with a sheepish smile.

“That was mine.” You groan lifting yourself up and smashing your mouth to hers, attempting to use your tongue to retrieve what bits of flavor you can savor from her mouth as Tzuyu giggles in your embrace, wrapping her arms around your neck as you two sink back into the bed with your tongues still tied in a clash.

Looks like the anniversary night isn’t over yet.