#babys first time editing gifs as colors be nice

[wonniesdoll]

locked up - yjw

MDNI 18+ ONLY! this is SMUT.

- this is my first time ever writing smut, so feedback is totally appreciated but pls be kind and lmk what you think :)

- english is not my first language! do lmk if you see any spelling mistakes hihi.

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warnings: female reader, throat fucking(f!receiving), chastity belt(f!receiving), anal play(f!receiving) reader can be picked up and carried, hair can be grabbed, "you" pov, vaginal pleasure denial? is there a word for this idk!! degrading word! (slut) used on reader, jungwon is readers bf and they are kinky! reader is desperate but super into what's going on

umm.. this is my first smut so lmk what else i should add here since idrk how tumblr etiquette works but lmk if i did anything wrong pls!

also how do you make text a different color without having it be underlined pls help me a girl is struggling! also sorry the layout is ugly i was struggling with all the editing omg but happy reading! if anyone has tips or anything for me or wants to be friends even plsplsplps slide into my dms I'm so nice!!!

it starts here!

an irritated whine rips out of your throat as your boyfriend, jungwon, puts the stupid, stupid chastity belt on you. the one he's been threatening to put on you as a punishment since.. well, for a long time. but today is when you managed to make him snap.

finally.

the action of him going through with putting you in the chastity belt proves to frustrate you even more, the cage encasing your throbbing pussy into an evil metal cage.

specifically designed to deny you pleasure.

"shut up, brat." he angrily mutters, his hands working harshly to secure the belt as you squirm on the bed.

"I'll be good from now on, i swear!!" another whine of protest slips out, and you immediately draw back seeing the way Jungwon's eyes narrow at you when he hears your voice once more.

"I told you earlier, baby. sluts like you don't deserve pleasure. pleasure is for good girls." he says, fastening the belt for the last time and securing the it with a small padlock before pulling back slightly to admire his handiwork, key in hand.

you're prettily sprawled out and squirming underneath him, naked, just how he likes it. your soft skin is glowing underneath the faint streams of evening sunlight filtering through the curtains and onto your desperate, pathetically adorable body.

"I'm sorry for touching myself without your permission, but isn't this a bit too harsh? a chastity belt, really?" you complain diligently, still wanting to stay on his good side for the sake of your throbbing pussy.

Jungwon simply grins in response, his dimples making an appearance and melting your heart despite your uncontrollable horniness as the chastity belt restricts you.

"i told you, no cumming for a week. how am i supposed to know you won't try to get that desperate pussy off while I'm away, hm?"

his catlike eyes glance down at the chastity belt, a metal one he had ordered to be perfectly fit for your pretty body. he smirks again before stuffing the key into his pocket and shuffling a bit further away to admire you even more.

"i won't! please just take it off, Wonnie.." you whimper, begging softly, wanting nothing more than to jump on top of him and ride his thick, hard dick until you both pass out.

"if you had been a good girl, this wouldn't have happened, you brat." he grins as he comes closer to your figure on the bed, languidly sliding his hand down the chastity belt, right where he knows your slit is dripping and quivering.

so wet. so ready for him. so naughty.

you watch him with dilated pupils. dirty, vile thoughts running through your pretty little head as he continues his teasing ministrations.

your breath hitches when his hand suddenly slips lower, tracing along the metal ring that presents your other hole to him. the forbidden one.

that's right. not only does Jungwon's punishment include denying you of your own pleasure for a week, it also includes him taking you anally, since he sure as hell isn't going to suffer through a week of no sex because of your bratty behavior.

"do you remember the rules i explained earlier, baby?" your boyfriend asks, his pretty fingers circling around your puckered hole as he watches your facial expressions carefully.

he loves you after all, and he wants to make sure you're not uncomfortable throughout this entire encounter.

"yes i do. you're not touching my pussy for a week, nor am i allowed to. you'll satisfy yourself by using my ass or my mouth." you obediently repeat the rules back to him, eyes lighting up at the smile on his face at the sight of you being so good.

"that's a good girl." he praises you, his finger dragging some of the slick on your inner thigh before lazily falling back to your asshole, which he begins teasing with that very same finger.

you jolt in surprise, trying your best to relax as you sink into the pillows, a faint whimper escaping you at the feeling of his fingertip stretching your ass out slightly as it begins tipping into you. the heels of your feet dig into the mattress slightly as you focus on the delicious feeling.

your eyes land on the bulge that can easily be seen in his sweatpants. he's been achingly hard ever since he got home, expecting to see his sweet, cute girlfriend readily waiting at the door to be able to greet him with a kiss and a hug like usually.

yet, all he was met with when he tiredly walked in after a long day of recording and practice, was a dark house along with faint moans coming from your shared bedroom.

upon further inspection, Jungwon had found you, wearing only one of his shirts. the fabric of the white cotton was draping onto your thighs as you rode a pillow. his pillow. there was a blissful look on your face as you chased your high with closed eyes and an open mouth, sweet little moans slipping from your lips as you called out for your boyfriend while having absolutely no idea that he was watching you from the doorway.

that's how you ended up in this predicament in the first place, now having little to no say in what would be done to you during the oncoming week. and you couldn't be more turned on at the thought.

the thought of Jungwon using you for his pleasure while simultaneously denying all of your needs made your pussy unbelievably wet, little droplets of your essence already leaking through the slit of the chastity belt, staining the silver metal in your juices.

you opened your legs a bit wider for him to get a good look at the sight of his finger sliding in and out of your exposed asshole, the metal ring almost serving as a guide for where exactly to train your eyes to have the best view.

"f-fuck.." you bite back a moan. anal had always been something you'd been into, and it's only recently that you brought it up with Jungwon, who was more than happy to help you indulge in your desires.

"language." you jolt when your boyfriend slaps your inner thigh sternly, yet softly. his tone isn't angry, it's a warning.

"sorry, wonnie.." you smile sheepishly as he continues to gently stretch your asshole with his fingers.

one finger, then two, then three. at this point you're a blubbering mess. uncontrollably moaning as your chest rises and falls rapidly while he fingers your asshole with a smirk on his face. "wonnie please.." you beg softly, your sweet eyes pleading with him.

"not a chance, baby." the man simply grins at you before reaching over and grabbing an adorable buttplug off the bedside table. it's metal, it has a base with a pink, heart shaped jewel that perfectly matches some of the other cute pink pieces of lingerie Jungwon buys you all the time.

he coats it in a layer of your slick that's leaked out of the slit in the chastity belt before carefully slipping it into your tight asshole, presumably to keep you nice and stretched for when he wants to use you there, which you absolutely couldn't wait for.

"please, not even anal? you really won't even fuck my ass? i need it wonnie.. please." you beg softly, wanting nothing more than to have your boyfriend's pretty cock sliding in and out of you while you moan into his mouth.

"no. you don't deserve to be touched by me right now, you've been bad." Jungwon huffs in response, making sure the buttplug is fit snugly inside of your tight little ass. his hand comes down to leave a smack on the skin of your plush ass, grabbing a handful and spreading your cheeks to get a good look at the buttplug inside you and the metal ring which would allow him to use your ass at all times if he so wished to.

his eyes then moved upwards, his teeth digging into his bottom lip as he trains his gaze onto the metal slab encasing your pussy. your tight, sweet wetness. he lets out a small, audible groan at the sight of the amount of essence dripping out of the slit in the middle of the chastity belt, imagining how good your tight pussy would feel right now, skilfully gripping his aching cock as you whimpered his name.

he shakes away the thoughts, wanting to stay strong and true to the discipline he has planned for you, finally allowing his eyes to peer even higher and to look at your desperate, adorable face.

your pupils are completely dilated, your beautiful tits moving up and down with the deep breaths you take as you look deep into his eyes with the most desperate expression he's ever seen on you.

"please?" you plead innocently.

fuck.

fuck.

Jungwon could smack himself in the face in frustration, his cock twitching at the sound of your sweet voice, sounding so pathetic. so pretty. so perfect. He wanted nothing more than to rip that chastity belt off you and to bury himself deep inside your wonderful pussy for all eternity.

but he didn't. he wouldn't.

"No. Now stop whining and get on your knees." his hands move to the waistband of his sweatpants, pulling them down along with his boxers as you rush to kneel in front of him.

Jungwon smirks down at you as he pulls his hard cock out of his sweats, eyes trained on your desperate face.

your own eyes are locked on Jungwon's hard cock. the shape of his mushroom tip, each vein, each barely noticable ridge completely engraved in your mind.

you were a slut for cock. you were an absolute whore for your boyfriend's cock, though.

The man in question stands tall in front of you, grabbing the base of his cock and hissing softly as he strokes himself a few times, his free hand reaching towards your hair to grip it, gently pulling your face closer to the twitching muscle as you breathe out in contentment.

"suck." he commands, slapping his achingly hard cock onto your cheek twice.

you don't have to be told again, opening your mouth and swirling your tongue around his pink tip, savoring the taste of the precum that's been dribbling out since he got home.

a small moan escapes you just as Jungwon groans in satisfaction, leaning back against the wall as he watches you slowly work your way down his cock.

you look up into his eyes, making eye contact as you take him into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you bob your head.

the sight above you belongs in a magazine, or on the wall of a museum, maybe it even deserves to be displayed on one of gigantic building's screens in time square.

jungwon is looking down at you, the same intensity in his eyes that's undoubtedly being mirrored back to him as you suck him off how he likes it. his lips are parted as he groans, waiting for the perfect moment..

it's when you finally ease his cock into your willing, tight throat that jungwon knows it's okay for him to retake control. so he does.

you moan softly around his cock as both hands trail down, gripping your hair tightly, yet gently.

"tap my thigh twice if you want me to stop, yeah?" he whispers, stroking your hair affectionately before his expression hardens and he stands up a bit straighter.

you can barely nod due to his tight grip, but you both understand it. you're ready.

with that, he takes control. his hands are swiftly tangled into your hair as he thrusts forward slowly, burying his length deep into your throat and letting out what's possibly the sluttiest moan you've ever heard from a man.

you're no different, trying to trail your hand down to rub your clit before the realization sets in. you're locked. caged up. your poor clit and hole completely off limits.

you're not sure if you tear up because of the thought that you can't get off, or because of the fact that the tip of Jungwon's cock keeps slamming against the back of your throat, but you quickly focus on relaxing your throat once more, trying not to choke too much as your boyfriend fucks your face, smirking when he sees you remember the chastity belt.

"aw, my poor little slut." he grins devilishly, driving his throbbing cock in and out of your throat. "can't even get off without me, hm?" he smirks at the way you look right now.

there's an almost dollike expression on your face. to him at least. your pupils are completely dilated as you try to keep eye contact with him, there's a bunch of drool running down the corner of your mouth, and dripping down your face and onto your pretty tits, the mixture of your saliva, tears, and his precum making him twitch in your throat.

Mmm," he hums, his hips undulating in a rhythm that matches his moans. His left hand lets go of your hair, now trailing down, he gropes your breast, squeezing and pinching one of your sensitive, hardened nipples. his thrusts don't slow down at all as he lazily plays with your tits while fucking your throat.

"fuck. I'm close." jungwon warns, his hips not stilling at all as he pistons in and out of your willing mouth. you're all too turned on right now, and he can tell by the way your arousal is leaking from the slit in the chastity belt and onto the floor while you choke on his cock.

the mere thought of you being so turned on yet so helpless makes his vision go white as his orgasm washes over him. his hips twitch uncontrollably as he shoots his load deep into your throat. his hands are now both gripping your head tightly as he keeps you right where he wants- no. where he needs you as he fills your throat with his pearly cum while moaning out.

he groans out, his hips jerking violently as he empties his cum down your throat. "Swallow." he commands, his grip tightening in your hair.

and you? you couldn't be happier. your own eyes roll back as you feel his cum invade your body. the way he's holding you down so tightly, his cock absolutely enveloped by your throat as he cums down it. you obediently swallow around him, the feeling of your throat convulsing around his length making him let out another deep groan.

your nose is buried into his neatly trimmed pubic hair as he holds you there for a few more seconds. he then pumps in and out of your mouth twice to ride out his high before finally pulling out, allowing you to catch your breath.

you pant, looking up at him with teary eyes and a messy face. "i swallowed.." you inform him in a timid tone, suddenly feeling a bit shy under his gaze.

"I know," he smirks, his hand moving to stroke your cheek gently while you open your mouth to show him you really did swallow all the cum he spilled inside. "such a good girl."

you look up at him pleadingly, whimpering softly. "please, wonnie.. it's not enough!" you complain once more, tugging on the stupid chastity belt in frustration.

Jungwon giggles softly, taking his pants and boxers off completely before leaning down to pick you up and take you into his arms, carrying you to the bed with ease.

you relax as he lays you down on the bed on your back, taking another good luck at your pretty little plugged up asshole, the ring around it making it even prettier.

he's always liked jewelry on you, after all.

his hand trails down and he strokes his throbbing cock once more, cursing softly when he realizes he's still achingly hard for you.

you whimper once more, spreading your legs a bit more and pulling them up to your chest, showing off my caged pussy and the jewel on the hilt of the buttplug.

"wonnie please.. just want your cock in me. I'll be a good girl, i swear. please?" you beg pathetically, tears now dripping down your sweet face due to the sheer frustration you felt at your needy pussy being so neglected. he wouldn't even touch your ass?

Jungwon simply smirks, cooing at you before leaning over you to kiss you passionately, his tongue sliding into your mouth to taste himself on your tongue as his hands trail down your body, resting on your tits as your legs wrap around his waist.

the tip of his cock leaks precum all over your caged pussy, the metal now coated in small spurts and smears of the pearly essence.

he kisses you a bit more, tongue exploring your mouth as one of his hands slide from groping your pretty tits to your hips before finding its way between your legs to gently tug the buttplug out.

you draw in a sharp breath at the intensity of his actions, a shiver running down your spine as he leans down to whisper in your ear as you feel the buttplug gently being pulled out of you.

"are you ready for me, baby..?"

2024 © wonniesdoll on TUMBLR. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE OR REPOST.  

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*screams internally* if u read to here idk i just planted a fat kiss on ur forehead mwah ily and I'm making an introduction post soon SO STAY TUNEDDDD

[s0lam33y]

You make me so…

producer! riri x reader

a/n: I’m sorry if there r a lot of typos, I didn’t have to re-edit this. I was gonna make this a series but I just decided to turn it into a oneshot ! I feel like it’s a bit all over the place but yknow what? It’s fine 💀

@pvnks0ul @fentibeauty @onyxstones-world @kissvamps @shurislover

Riri 🎶

- meet me at the studio in 30, im tryna wrap this album up, I got places to be.

You read the text from your phone and feel an arm secure around your barely conscious frame. You feel a pair of lips against the nose of your neck that you used to make you shiver in the best way possible but has begun to bore you.

“Where you going?” Your girlfriend, Tori, grumbles as you begin to shift away from her. You turn around and gently kiss her forehead.

“I got to go to the studio.” You tell her as you sit up on the foot of the bed. You pull a shirt from the floor over your naked body. She wasn’t all that good in bed and she didn’t put you to sleep anyway so you don’t see a point in staying. Your girlfriend sits up and rubs at her bleary eyes.

“Why does she always need you?” She questions with irritation seeping through her words. You sigh again, this isn’t the first time she’s commented on Riri texting you late at night. You know it’s not flirtatious and they’ve interacted enough for your girl to hate your producer.

You can’t blame her. Riri’s naturally flirtatious, not purposefully. But her kindness can be taken a certain way. She’s caring, loving and so damn carefree it blows your mind. She calls everyone pet names and your girlfriend wasn’t too happy about it when she heard ‘baby,’ slip out of her mouth. Riri’s respectful and when she saw the slow twitch in your girl’s eyes so she had laid off the pet names for a while. Now she doesn’t care so much.

When you don’t feel like recording, she lets you take breaks. She doesn’t push your limits too quickly. She makes the best beats she can find, Hell, she gets you into after parties. She’s so damn considerate and so sweet.

“It’s work, let it go. A’ight?” You breathe out, walking towards the mirror and fluffing your flattened Afro. You feel arms wrap around your clad waist and want to pry her off of you.

It’s no longer cute, it’s borderline possessive and it’s taking everything in you not to say something crazy.

“As long as you know.” She shrugs, kissing your shoulder before heading out of the room, towards the kitchen you’re sure. You freshen up, wearing a skirt and boots. You never leave without a bunch of bracelets on your arm and golden hoops.

On your way out, you hear your girlfriend’s voice over her mic as she clicks away at her ps5 that you remember buying after your first check from a concert.

“I’m heading out.” You murmur.

“Yeah- Yeah, see you, babe.” She says, more excited at the video game on the flatscreen T.V than you. She doesn’t even spare a glance as you head out of your apartment. You don’t understand how someone can be so considerate and careless as the same time.

You do well for yourself, you live on a rather expensive side of Chicago now. And you’ve managed to take your girlfriend with her, she doesn’t work. Not now. She says she’ll get there at some point but even you aren’t sure when.

You don’t bother driving to Riri’s penthouse. It’s a nice night out, not too cold or too hot. It’s a simple light breeze and you find yourself finding more inspiration anyway. You receive a couple looks, a couple fans bump into you, begging for signatures and snapping photos of you. You’re new to this, the fame and paparazzi. It’s flattering and nowhere near Invasive just yet.

You finally reach Riri’s penthouse after a fifteen minute walk. You can hear the strumming of guitar chords and once you reach to knock a voice sounds.

“Doors already open.” Riri’s voice mentions. You push the door open to find her sitting in her leather couch. Her apartment is full of warm light, it’s the perfect temperature with all kinds of warm toned colors splattered around it.

“Wassup, Y/N. I like your fit.” Riri smiles. She noticed at least. She has a one-sided smile plastered on her face and a part of you can’t tell if you find it cute because it’s her or just a preference you have. Her braids are gathered in a bun on top of her head with spiraling curls framing her face.

“Preciate it.” You reply. She’s man spreading, dressed in loose sweats and sports bra , like she is nearly 90 % of the time. The public notices too and she’s had numerous comparisons to Adam Sandler. She’s more stylish but she has I-Don‘t-Give-A-Fuck, attitude. You noticed the sparkle in her tongue from the piercing lodged there as she begins to speak.

“I just wanted to go over the album, before everything’s set. Is that alright?” She questions as she stands up. She doesn’t walk towards her studio room, instead she walks towards the fridge across the island counter.

“You want sumn to drink?” She offers.

You already know it’s gonna be a long session.

…

“That was good, baby.” Riri encourages through the other side of the glass. You feel your face heat up at her compliment. It’s not the first time she’s ever praised you but you have the same reaction every time. You look up to find her with a headset on and relaxed look.

“Do that again, I need you to drag out the vowels a lil longer, f’me. If you nail that then this album is platinum.” She requests while sitting back and placing her hands behind her head. You hear the beat again. It’s slow, sensual and you find yourself rushing a lot.

That’s what this album is supposed to be. Slow. Sensual. It’s what your going for anyway. It’s supposed to be about love, lust and passion. Your supposed to be thinking about your girl. The woman in your home.

But instead you think of her. The woman in front of you, your producer.

You should be be thinking about your girlfriends smile, the soft cologne she wears, her raunchy laugh. But instead you think of Riri, her perfect hair, the vanilla perfume that she sprays on her neck, the softest chuckle she always lets out and that toothy grin. She has the cutest smile you think you’ve ever seen.

“Y/N, sweetheart, you missed the entire thing, you okay?” Riri asks. You snap your eyes up only to find her looking at you. Have her eyes always been this brown?

“I’m okay.”

“Fuckin’ liar, step out the booth, we gon talk this out, ma.” She replies. You want to complain but you do what she tells you anyway. Because truth is, she could tell you anything and you’d do it. And you hate that.

You take a seat next to a rolling chair next to her and focus on the glass covered album covers behind her.

“What’s botherin’ you?” She investigates. You focus on her the different golden rings on her fingers, the way she twists them around her middle and pointer finger.

“Nothing, I just um- I can’t focus.” You admit.

“Yeah? And why is that?” She digs deeper, sitting up so her elbow rests on her knees. Have her arms been so toned? You watch the Cuban link around her move back and forth.

“Is it sumn with yo girl?” She guesses. She takes your silence as a yes. She’s always seemed neutral when it comes to your girlfriend. She doesn’t mention it.

“Y/N, do you love her?” Riri asks.

“I don’t know.” You reply and Riri doesn’t know the reason why your questioning it is because of her. She smiles at you, and you’re sure she’s gonna drop some wisdom.

“Go home…go see her, we have a long day tomorrow, we got an after party. I want you to let loose and have fun.” She encourages as her hand gravitates towards the curve of your left shoulder.

“But the album-“

“I’ll put it together, you’ve given me everything I need.” She insists as she ushers you out. You want to reach out for hug but for some reason that seems to intimate.

“I’ll see you.” She promises and just like that you’re out in the Chicago air again.

Her words stick in your mind.

“you’ve given me everything I need.”

…

The next morning is busy. You wake yourself up and catch the sunrise but don’t have time to watch it. You run through your skincare routine, in the hopes of not having any breakouts.

You plan out your outfit for tonight, you want something that presents you on the outside. So you settle for a dark black body con dress, some black boots to match and a leather jacket. You’ll pair it with some shades and silver jewelry.

This is technically your first after-party and although it’s not a big deal to many artists, it’s a big deal to you. You’re going to meet so many other artists like you, some that you’ve been admiring for years.

While your in your robe, rubbing cream into your face, arms wrap around your waist like they do nearly every morning.

You wonder what Riri’s morning routine is like. Knowing her, she probably wakes up later than she should and most likely stays in bed. It’s wrong for think of someone else while your have a good girlfriend standing right behind you.

Tori’s stable. Predictable. She’s comfortable. She doesn’t try to make you happy anymore, she doesn’t know what you favor. Hell, she barely listens to your music. But you too, have grown far too comfortable. You know what she likes. You’ve known her since you were both in highschool. It’s too late to back out now.

You lean back in her arms and the smell of her cologne has become unfamiliar, your body and system have become accustomed to the scent of sweet vanilla and warm lavender.

“Want some coffee?” She asks and all you can do is smile and nod. You want Riri, but the guilt is too much. The guilt of leaving Tori would squeeze the life out of you.

She has no one but you. Hell, she moved from New York to Chicago to chase your dreams with you. You can’t have her and Riri at the same time. She hands you your coffee, it’s black and there’s nowhere near enough cream but you smile as you drink. She’s good to you.

Riri is no longer an option, she never should’ve been.

…

The party is at a high-end club. Filled with artists, big and small. None that you can see because of the lowly dimmed red lights throughout.

Riri 🎶

-wya? I got ppl for you to meet.

You try to text back but you feel a hand squeeze your own and look back to see Tori smiling at you. She isn’t dressed to coordinate your outfit but she still looks good, only in a simple white Tee and cargo pants.

“You look good, babe.” She smiles, kissing your shoulder excitedly. Her hand squeeze yours again. You notice that she has no rings on it. You shake your head out of it and feel her hand loosen up as her body tenses behind you. You aren’t sure why until you lift your head up. You find Riri in front of you, she’s in the middle of conversation and throwing her head back as she laughs.

She looks gorgeous. Beautiful. She’s in an oversized suit with nothing but supple skin underneath and a plunged v-neck. She holds a clear glass of what you think is wine and her face beat with a soft glam which you see due to her braids being pulled in a high pony tail. She has her rings on as usual and her chain. That never changed.

Tori’s hand trails down to rest on your waist as Riri approaches. You do your best not to stare at the space between her breasts.

“Nice to see you two.” She smiles, gold decorating her bottom row of teeth. You hear Tori fake a laugh as you smile.

“Y/N, I got a couple people for you to meet, just let me know when you ready.” She points out with her bottom lip tucked into her mouth. You spin on your heel to look at displeased Tori.

“Go, I’ll meet you later, mhm?” You suggests. She mumbles something under her breath and pulls you in for a kiss. It’s messy and your sure your lip liner is on her own lips. You latch away from her and find a waiting Riri.

“Here you go,” She says as she hands you a glass of wine. The even doesn’t call for it but she doesn’t need you borderline drunk especially if it’s for business.

Throughout the night, she introduced you to everyone she can think of. All of her friends, all of the artists she works with, some big and some small. You don’t notice how many drinks you begin to grab and she eventually has to wrap an arm around your waist to keep you on your feet. You start to lean into her touch for support, grabbing at shockingly toned shoulders and veiny hands.

“I think you’re done with the drinks, baby.” She whispers lowly as she leans into you. She had caught you trying to grab another but stopped you before you had the chance.

“I don’t need you ruining y’image.” She says sternly. The carefree version of her that you know is long-gone. Her face is stern as she guides you to a more empty part of the club. She puts you up against a wall, forcing her hands not to linger as she reaches into the pocket of your leather jacket.

Your mind is hazy, cloudy is a better word for it. You’re beginning to see two of her.

“Y/N, put the pin in.” She orders as she placed the phone in your face. You want to say something to her, tell her that she looks so fucking good. And that you’ve noticed the tattooed lined down her sternum.

“I’m calling Tori for you.” She sighs.

“Don’t, please. Not now.” You murmur as she puts the phone to her ear. You grab the lapels of her jacket and pull her close, so close that you can tell that she’s swapped her vanilla perfume for something more expensive.

“I want you.” You clarify through a croaky voice. Her eyes widen to the size of plates as you lean in, pressing her body to your own. She leans in close, so fucking close you can taste it.

“I’m not gonna be your second choice, Y/N. I refuse to be an option, okay?” She coldly clarifies. It feels like a damn slap to the face.

The distance between the two or you causes her to drop your phone which she quickly picks up anyway.

“Stop, Y/N. I’m callin’.” She insists. She looks…uneasy. She takes a step back, breathing in deeply as she looks at you with the phone to her ear.

“Yeah, man, she tipsy. We on the bottom floor, by the entrance.” She hangs up and slips your phone back into your pocket.

“We won’t mention this, you’re just drunk, you don’t want this, baby. You don’t want me, aight?” She says, like she’s trying to convince you but more-so herself. She smiles, hoping that it spreads onto your face but it doesn’t. She brings your hand to her lips and for the first time her lips touch your skin. You’ll never forget it. The coldness of her rings, the softness of her fingertips and the callouses on her palm.

“Go home, ma. I’ll see you.” She says with a sad smile that’s etched itself into your mind. She blends in with the lights the further she walks away from you and all you want to do is call for her but you hear Tori’s voice sound form behind you.

“Let me take you home.” She suggests, interlocking her bare fingers with the one that Riri just kissed. Your hand feels gross now, and you can feel the sweat that’s accumulated on your palm.

She kisses your temple but no matter where she kisses you. It won’t compare to the softest one you’ve ever received.

You agree to let her take you home. That’s the good choice. Tori’s the good choice. But if she is then why doesn’t it feel so fucking wrong?

…

You wake up the next morning with a slight headache but that’s not the worse part. The worse part is that you remember every single part you of last night. You remember Riri, her outfit, her voice, her kiss.

“You got real tipsy.” Tori murmurs as she rubs your back. You’re leaned over the bathroom sink with watery eyes and an angry stomach.

“I bet.” You murmur. You’ve always been a lightweight so even you don’t understand why you decided to get wine drunk last night.

“Yeah and uh- I’ll give you some space.” Tori says, leaving you with your thoughts.

You luckily, never end up puking your guts out but the nausea never leaves. Not becomes of the alcohol but because of the genuine anxiety from last night. You try to get some sleep but you never do.

…

Two days after the party you find Riri in her studio. She hasn’t spoken a word about the club. It’s like it’s been wiped from her brain. She keeps calling you pet names and has the softest smile on your face you swear you lose synapses by the second.

But you can’t play along. You’re not sure you want to. You’re seated right next to her with your album playing. The open room feels so stuffy.

And today there are no songs to finish up, or to record. All you two have to do is go over your album. Every song there is. And her favorite song begins to play. It’s your least favorite, more vulnerable than you’d like, it’s not your best work. You named it Seen, again, not your best work, not the most thought out.

“We should scrap that.” You murmur. It’s too intimate, and you’re beginning to hate it. Especially since Riri’s the one hearing it.

“Nah, let it play.” She sighs. All she would really need is a blunt to relax her. You stare at her, admiring her side profile while she closes her eyes. You know it’s about her. The song is about her. All of the nights she spent thinking of lyrics and love, were spent thinking around Riri. You watch her visibly relax, her abs tensing on every inhale and chest rising on every exhale.

“Riri-“

Her eyes meet yours before you can finish your sentence.

“I know…I was hoping you had forgotten, Y/N.” She says, nearly whispering into the air. You’re so tired of having to settle. Riri doesn’t let you, she doesn’t let you settle for bad brand deals, bad concerts, bad programs. You don’t think about any what if’s, what cons there are in your career because as of now she’s done everything in her power so you don’t have to.

"You've given me a lot, Y/N. But I grew up watching my parents and the love they got...There's no one else for them, there's no other choice. They're meant to be...I want nothing less. I don't want to be the other woman." She murmurs, her eyes low as she stares ahead. You remain silent because there's nothing you can think of saying. "Ion know how you feel bout Tori, I know you want me...But it's not difficult to want someone, You don't want me more than you want Tori," But you do. "I don't like this, being confused. You want me but you still with her..." She exhales before continues. " I can't accept that and neither should you." Your song has stopped playing for a long time. She still doesn't turn her head to look at you. Your phone buzzes in your pocket and both of you know who's calling. Riri knows you'll pick up. She knows now that you'll always pick Tori and seeing it will only solidify her thoughts. Tori's good, She's stable. She's everything you need. She should be enough. If that's the case why do you constantly need to remind yourself. You put the phone to your ear and watch Riri shift a little in her chair. Within two minutes, you're walking towards her apartment door. You don't say anything but before you can walk too far, she speaks. "Get home safe." ...

Within days, your album charts in the top 10 on Spotify and Apple music. Your phone blows with congratulation messages from people you love, people dear to you, people you haven't spoken to in years and exes that you have forgotten to block. While you're in the car with Tori, your least favorite song begins to play on the Radio. Today has been so confusing. It's been the worst day and best day of your life. There's nothing scarier than being vulnerable especially to millions of people worldwide. "This song is real cute, Who's it about?" Tori grins, confident that the song is all about her. Then your heart sinks and you realize that out of the hundreds of messages, you really only wanted to see one. Your eyes begin to burn with tears and your phone pings. Speak of the devil.

Riri 🎶

- congrats, y/n. you deserve it :)

You put your phone down and in your pocket, forcing a smile on your face.

“You.” You murmur and it excites the woman next to you but she doesn’t know who lingers in your mind. She never will.

what y'all think?

[thestoryofusstan]

Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas

part ii

pairing: harry styles x fem!reader

warnings: none really.. not edited.

summary: in which y/n's friends book her an amazing gig, but they don't mention anything about her favorite singer being in attendance.

request: nope!

your friends were more than aware of your obsession with harry styles. it’s not like it was a secret.

so, it only made sense that when you started to sing in bars and cafes — anywhere, really — that you’d always incorporate something of his into it. whether it be a love on tour crewneck, a song of his, a one direction song, or a song about him — you loved to cover style, because.. who didn’t want to strut on a stage to a song everyone knows?

however, you weren’t aware of what they were planning when they somehow booked you in a very prestigious bar.

the dress-code for this bar was strict. your usual get-up of jeans and a crewneck — or jeans and anything, really — was vetoed before you could even ask. so, you searched through the depths and trenches of your closet until you found a black, skin-tight cocktail dress that ended right at your mid-thigh.

“seriously, babe. you know sign of the times inside and out. you’re just psyching yourself out,” one of your friends, melanie, told you.

“i know, but.. still.”

“you doubt yourself too much.”

“so you tell me everyday. now shoo! i’ve gotta be onstage in five.”

you weren’t exactly sure how you got onstage. you’re pretty sure you blacked out.

as you nervously scanned the crowd, you spoke into the mic, “hi.. my name is y/n. uh.. i’ll be singing some songs tonight. i figured since it’s christmas eve, i could sing through a few.. christmas classics or whatever. so.. yeah!”

a few people in the audience laughed at your awkwardness.

you sang through last christmas first, which really boosted your confidence. the audience was very interactive, singing, dancing, and clapping along.

you sang a few other christmas classics. santa baby, let it snow, things like that.

and then.. it was time for the section you very much dreaded. your songs.

“so.. these next few songs are songs that i wrote. they’re.. like.. my babies. so.. please be nice to them,” you laughed.

you nodded to the band. a silent signal that they could start the music.

“when you first told me about her, you said she was thirty. and i just can’t help but think.. you knew it was dirty. and maybe you were just a little sad, but there’s no excuse to lie to me like that. but when you first told me about her, you said she was thirty,” you took a deep breath before belting the chorus, “but she’s only twenty-eight. i’m not even half her age. she probably just had her first high school reunion. you’re probably the first guy she’s ever moved in with. you think that i wanna hate. but you set me up this way. so for my health i’ll be blocking your number, ‘cause you couldn’t wait till i got a bit older.”

the crowd cheered, giving you more confidence as you walked around the stage.

“and sometimes i kinda feel like i wanna forgive. but it never crossed your mind that maybe i’m still a kid. and i’m so used to being the adult. even when you say it’s not your fault. but i’m kinda getting sick and tired of crying. so please stop lying, and lying, and lying. she’s only twenty-eight. i’m not even half her age. she probably just had her first high school reunion. you’re probably the first guy she’s ever moved in with. you think that i wanna hate. but you set me up this way. so for my health i’ll be blocking your number, ‘cause you couldn’t wait till i got a bit older. to tell me she was twenty-eight.”

as the drums and electric guitar got more intense, the lights flashed different colors.

“to tell me she was twenty-eight… what the fuck is twenty-eight? you said she’s mature, so that makes it okay. and you said she likes sports, so that makes it okay. and she’s actually pretty, so that makes it okay. but there’s nothing you can say that makes twenty-eight okay.. to me.”

the crowd cheered as you lowered the mic. a smile overtook your face as you laughed.

you walked back over to the mic stand, putting the mic in the slot as a slow, piano-ballad type song started. the lights switched to a soft white.

“they’re always charismatic. and they’ll turn up the charm. their words do something magic, saying no is really hard. they’re over-generous, you’ll never pay the bills. they’ll fall in love in seconds. die for you, or probably kill. ooh. and after six months, you’ll feel really stupid. ooh. i promise that it’s not your fault you fell for it,” you shook your head, keeping your eyes closed as you sang, “‘cause.. one little fight breaks into war. feels like you’re dying on the bathroom floor. you’ll make an excuse. you’ll say that it’s you. and the mirror’s telling you it’s true. won’t leave, can’t stay. how much are you gonna take? ‘cause you’ll always take the blame. it feels like shit, but that’s just how it is. when you love a narcissist. so if you’re feeling crazy.. i wouldn’t be surprised. the only thing they’re good at’s knowing how to gaslight. then make you feel like the most beautiful in the world. while they’re sleeping with another girl. ooh. and after six months, you’ll feel really stupid. ooh. i promise that it’s not your fault you fell for it, ‘cause.. one little fight breaks into war. feels like you’re dying on the bathroom floor. you’ll make an excuse. you’ll say that it’s you. and the mirror’s telling you it’s true. won’t leave, can’t stay. how much are you gonna take? ‘cause you’ll always take the blame. it feels like shit, but that’s just how it is. ‘cause i felt like shit. so i know how it is. when you love a narcissist.”

the crowd cheered as it went straight into another song.

“when you’d yell, i would stay quiet. you never noticed i was quiet. i was taught that speaking up was talking back. always first to say, ‘i’m sorry’, ‘cause i wanted you to like me. and i thought that’s what it took to make it last. it’s a lose, lose. that i don’t choose. but you don’t always choose the ones you love. i shouldn’t have to be the bigger person. how come i have to break to keep us working? it’s always up to me, even though it shouldn’t be. i’ll take the blame the way you want me to. ‘cause that’s what i do for you. i was half of this dynamic. i was stable, you were manic. without you or with you comes with a cost. i got used to the excuses and emotional abuses. we kept moving the lines we never crossed. it’s a lose, lose that i don’t choose. but you don’t always choose the ones you love. shouldn’t have to be the bigger person. how come i have to break to keep us working? it’s always up to me, even though it shouldn’t be. i’ll take the blame the way you want me to. ‘cause that’s what i do for you. i always think it’s over, but it never really is. but i can’t get the closure when you’re like this. can we switch? maybe this time you’ll be the bigger person. ‘cause i’m getting tired of carrying all your burden. it should be up to you, but you won’t admit the truth, oh-oh. shouldn’t have to be the bigger person. how come i have to break to keep us working? it’s always up to me, even though it shouldn’t be. i’ll take the blame the way you want me to. ‘cause that’s what i do for you.”

the crowd cheered again.

“thank you! we have.. four more songs tonight. this next one is would’ve, could’ve, should’ve.”

a crew member came and slipped an electric guitar around your neck. you quietly thanked them as you cleared your throat and the music started.

“if you would’ve blinked, then i would’ve looked away at the first glance. if you tasted poison, you could’ve spit me out at the first chance. if i was some paint, did it splatter on a promising grown man? and if i was a child, did it matter? if you got to wash your hands? oh-oh, oh. all i used to do was pray. would’ve, could’ve, should’ve. if you’d never looked my way, i would’ve stayed on my knees. and i damn sure never would’ve danced with the devil at nineteen. and the god honest truth is that the pain was heaven. and now that i’m grown, i’m scared of ghosts. memories feel like weapons. and now that i know, i wish you’d left me wondering. if you never touched me, i would’ve gone along with the righteous. if i never blushed, then they could’ve never whispered about this. and if you never saved me from boredom, i could’ve gone on as i was. but, lord, you made me feel important… and then you tried to erase us. oh-oh, oh. you’re a crisis of my faith. would’ve, could’ve, should’ve. if i’d only played it safe, i would’ve stayed on my knees. and i damn sure never would’ve danced with the devil at nineteen. and the god honest truth is that the pain was heaven. and now that i’m grown, i’m scared of ghosts. memories feel like weapons. and now that i know, i wish you’d left me wondering. god rest my soul, i miss who i used to be. the tomb won’t close, stained glass windows in my mind. i regret you all the time. i can’t let this go, i fight with you in my sleep. the wound won’t close, i keep on waiting for a sign. i regret you all the time…. if clarity’s in death, then why won’t this die? years of tearing down our banners, you and i. living for the thrill of hitting you where it hurts. give me back my girlhood, it was mine first,” as you held the note, the crowd screamed.

“and i damn sure never would’ve danced with the devil. at nineteen. and the god honest truth is that the pain was heaven. and now that i’m grown, i’m scared of ghosts. memories feel like weapons. and now that i know, i wish you’d left me wondering. god rest my soul, i miss who i used to be. the tomb won’t close, stained glass windows in my mind. i regret you all the time. i can’t let this go, i fight with you in my sleep. the wound won’t close, i keep on waiting for a sign. i regret you all the time. oh, god rest my soul, i miss who i used to be. the tomb won’t close, stained glass windows in my mind. i regret you all the time. i can’t let this go, i fight with you in my sleep. the wound won’t close, i keep on waiting for a sign. i regret you all the time.”

with the final strum of your electric guitar, the crowd stood up to applaud. the crew member switched out the electric guitar for an acoustic one.

“this next one is called ceilings.”

a little bit more applause.

“.. ceilings. plaster. can’t you just make it move faster? lovely to be sitting here with you. you’re kinda cute, but it’s raining. harder. my shoes are now full of water. lovely to be rained on with you. it’s kinda cute but it’s.. so short. then you’re drivin’ me home. and i don’t wanna leave, but i have to go. you kiss me in your car. and it feels like the start of a movie i’ve seen before. before… bedsheets, no clothes. touch me like nobody else does. lovely to just lay here with you. you’re kinda cute and i would say all of this. but i don’t wanna ruin the moment. lovely to sit between comfort and chaos.. but it’s over. then you’re driving me home. and it kinda comes out as i get up to go. you kiss me in your car, and it feels like the start of a movie i’ve seen before.. but it’s not real. and you don’t exist. and i can’t recall the last time i was kissed. it hits me in the car. and it feels like the end of a movie i’ve seen before. before.”

you laughed as you saw melanie and your friends stand up in the back of the bar, dancing on stools.

“i can see my friends dancing.. so badly because they love the next song,” you laugh.

“once the flight had flown. with the wilt of the rose. i slept all alone. you still wouldn’t go. let’s fast forward to three hundred takeout coffees later. i see your profile and your smile on unsuspecting waiters. you dream of my mouth before it called you a lying traitor. you search in every maiden’s bed for something greater, baby. was it over when she laid down on your couch? was it over when he unbuttoned my blouse? ‘come here,’ i whispered in your ear in your dream as you passed out, baby. was it over then? and is it over now? when you lost control. red blood, white snow. blue dress on a boat. your new girl is my clone,” you smiled, knowing was part comes next. “and did you think i didn’t see you, there were flashing lights. at least i had the decency to keep my nights out sight. only rumors ‘bout my hips and thighs, and my whispered sighs. oh, lord. i think about jumping. off of very tall somethings. just to see you coming runnin’, runnin’. and say the one thing i’ve been wanting, but no. let’s. fast forward to three hundred awkward blind dates later. if she's got blue eyes, i will surmise that you'll probably date her. you dream of my mouth before it called you a lying traitor. you search in every model's bed for something greater, baby, was it over when she laid down on your couch? was it over when he unbuttoned my blouse? ‘come here,’ I whispered in your ear in your dream as you passed out, baby. was it over then? and is it over now? oh. oh. think i didn’t see you? there were flashing lights. at least i had the decency to keep my nights out sight. only rumors ‘bout my hips and thighs, and my whispered sighs. oh, lord. i think about jumping. off of very tall somethings. just to see you coming runnin’, runnin’. and say the one thing i’ve been wanting, but no. let’s fast forward to three hundred takeout coffees later. oh. i was hoping you’d be there. and say the one thing i’be been wanting… but no.”

another round of applause as you passed off the guitar.

“so.. this song is not my song. i am.. very nervous for this, but.. this is sign of the times.”

you closed your eyes tightly as the music started, “just stop your crying, it’s a sign of the times. welcome to the final show. hope you're wearing your best clothes. you can't bribe the door on your way to the sky. you look pretty good down here. but you ain't really good.. we never learn, we been here before. why are we always stuck and running from the bullets? the bullets? we never learn, we been here before. why are we always stuck and running from the bullets? the bullets? … just stop your crying it’s a sign of the times. we gotta get away from here. we gotta get away from here. just stop your crying, it’ll be alright. they told me that the end is near. we gotta get away from here. just stop your crying, have the time of your life. breaking through the atmosphere, and things are pretty good from here. remember everything will be alright. we can meet again somewhere. somewhere far away from here.. we never learn, we been here before. why are we always stuck and running from the bullets? the bullets? we never learn, we been here before. why are we always stuck and running from the bullets? the bullets? just stop your crying. it’s a sign of the times. we gotta get away from here. we gotta get away from here. stop your crying, baby, it'll be alright. they told me that the end is near we gotta get away from here. we never learn, we been here before. why are we always stuck and running from the bullets? the bullets?” you finally opened your eyes, trying to find melanie, but instead, you find the last person you expected to be here.

the man whose song you’re literally singing.

harry was slightly weary when an over-excited girl with light pink hair came up to him and asked him — begged him, really — to come to her best friends show. he wasn’t sure what convinced him. or what possessed him to bring his mother and gemma along with him.

but he had to say, he didn’t.. regret it.

you were pretty — extremely pretty. and you were a crazy good singer. he was pretty sure you were singing his song better than him.

you swallowed your nerves as you sang the chorus and bridge, keeping eye contact even though you felt like shitting your pants. “we never learn, we been here before. why are we always stuck and running from the bullets? the bullets? we don't talk enough. we should open up. before it's all too much. will we ever learn? we've been here before. it's just what we know. stop your crying, baby. it's a sign of the times. we gotta get away. we got to get away..” you finally looked away, closing your eyes. “we got to get away. we got to get away. we got to get away. we got to, we got to, away. we got to, we got to, away. we got to, we got to, away.”

you let out a shaking exhale as the song ended, backing up from the mic. you bowed and blew kisses to the audience before practically sprinting offstage.

to: mel x

WHAT THE FUCK MELANIE WHY THE FUCK DID INJUST MAKE EYE CONTACT WITH HARRY STYLES WHILE SINGING SIGN OF THE TIMES IM GONNA KILL

MY

SELF.

from: mel xx

NOOO I INVITED HIM ITS FINE

to: mel xx

you

what.

from: mel xx

I SAW HIM A WEEK AFTER WE BOOKED YOU THE GIG AND MIGHT HAVE BEGGED HIM TO COME BECAUSE I KNOW YOU WANT TO MEET HIM AND WHAT BETTER WAY THAN THIS

to: mel xx

oh i dunno

ANY OTHER WAY?

from: mel xx

BABE IT IS FINE

HE BROUGHT HIS MUM AND GEMMA TOO

to: mel xx

WHAG

from: mel xx

HE SAID HE LOVED IT AND U WERE OHENOMENAL

NOW GET OUT HERE AND MEET HIM

after taking ten minutes to breath, you walked over to the bar, finding melanie pretty easily.

“i love you so much for playing is it over now!”

“i played it just for you and your psycho obsession with it,” you laughed as she yanked you into a hug.

you two pulled away, and you turned around when you felt a presence behind you.

your eyes widened when you were face to face with harry fucking styles.

“hey.. y/n, right?”

you blinked a few times… that couldn’t be real. this was most definitely a prank.

“.. are you alright?”

“yes! sorry, i’m.. yeah, i’m good. hi, yeah. i’m.. y/n.”

he smiled at you, “i’m harry. but.. you seem to already know that, since y’sang my song and all.”

“i.. yeah, i do know who you are,” you laugh awkwardly.

“well, i’m glad to know who you are as well.”

you had to bit your lip to keep from smiling like a psycho.

“oh, and uh.. happy christmas,” he smiled.

you furrowed your brows, grabbing your phone.

12:01, 25 december 2018

happy christmas, indeed.

a/n: edging 😛 LMAO this might get another part, it lowk just depends on how well it does!!

[jeystattoos]

Lady of Neptune - Jey Uso x Reader

Jey Uso x Black Reader!

Word Count: 1538

18+

"No, cause I need you baby. When I fuck you all the ways that you want it, don't ever leave me baby."

August 22nd was practically a national holiday. You treated it as such. It was the day that your beloved boyfriend Jey Uso, and his twin Jimmy Uso were born. It was no secret that the Fatu family was compiled with some of the most beautiful humans to ever grace the Earth.

Jey truly didn’t age, he aged backwards. He didn’t look a day over 27, his skin was supple and soft. His body was like a living masterpiece; he was running out of skin to cover with his tribal tattoos. Sometimes you enjoyed tracing every single intricate detail with your tongue, using it to drive Jey absolutely insane.

You’d been sitting on the couch, waiting for him to come back. He’d spent half the day with his twin, and you enjoyed watching the shenanigans they’d gotten into throughout their day. You were a bit too excited to give him his presents. Jey wasn’t a materialistic man by any means, but he did have an affinity for the nicer things in life. He busted his ass for the money he earned, so he spent it on whatever caught his eye, or yours.

He was a sneakerhead, so he was always looking for the flyest pair of Jordan’s. He also enjoyed Rolexes, so he kept a small collection of those as well. You’d secretly spied on him while he was on the phone, looking at the latest editions of the watches and sneakers. To say you’d spent a pretty penny on these luxury gifts would be an understatement. The price didn’t matter, though. You enjoyed spoiling your man with the things he loved, but you had a feeling he’d be more interested in what you’d really gotten him.

Jey was a sucker for you and every little thing you did; he couldn’t contain himself when you wore lingerie that hugged every part of your curves. He was obsessed with your body, in love with the thickness of it. Your thighs didn’t stand a chance, as they were always bitten up by your man.

You’d found a spicy new set from SavagexFenty in a deep maroon color, with a matching silk robe. The kitten heels were a nice touch, complimenting the soft makeup you’d done as well. Jey loved the way that your 4C curls fell in perfect harmony down your back, so you made sure that they were on full display for him.

The sound of the door unlocking made your heart stop. You sat up on the couch, waiting impatiently for him to step through. As Jey emerged through the door, you rose to your feet. His eyes fell over you, licking his lips as he made his way towards you. He was wearing that sexy smile. “Damn, hey baby.” He greeted you with a soft kiss on the lips. His strong hands were around your waist, holding you tight against his rock hard figure.

“Hey baby, I’m glad you’re finally home. I’ve been waiting for you.” You said with a smile, running your fingers through his dark curls. Jey’s smirk grew, as he kissed your jawline. 

“Yeah? What’s up with the presents, baby girl?” He motioned towards the two boxes that were wrapped, sitting on the couch. You smiled and took him by the hand, leading him over to the couch. You handed him the big box first. “Open this one first!”

Jey looked up at you, before he ripped into the box. He pulled out the Jordan 1s, Chicago edition. They were the hardest to find, and you knew how much he wanted them. You sat in his lap, watching as his eyes twinkled with excitement. “Baby girl… how the hell did you find these?” He looked up at you, smiling from ear to ear. You smirked and kissed him softly.

“I have my ways, baby. Now, open this one.” You handed him the smaller box. Jey didn’t waste any time opening it. When he realized you’d also got him the Rolex Midas, his cheeks were full from how hard he was smiling. His happiness made your heart flutter.

“Oh my God, thank you so much baby.” Jey sat down the presents, returning his attention to you. He gave you a million little kisses. You pulled away briefly, smirking deviously at him. “There’s just one more gift,” You rose to your feet, and began to take off the robe. Jey’s eyes followed your every movement. The robe dropped to the floor, your brown body on full display in the sexiest lingerie you’d ever worn. Jey’s gaze was lustful, as his eyes flicked up to look into yours. He slowly rose from his seated position, wrapping an arm around your waist.

“God damn…” He cursed, before diving in for a hungry kiss. He kissed you aggressively, claiming your lips with his teeth. He nibbled at your bottom lip, soon slipping his tongue into your mouth. One kiss from him and you were weak in the knees. Jey scooped you up with ease, making his way towards the staircase. He marched to your bedroom, keeping the steamy kiss between the two of you going.

You heard the door shutting behind him, your back feeling the coolness from the wall that he’d pinned you against. He momentarily pulled away from your lips, resting his forehead against yours. “I’m finna fuck the shit outta you, doll.” His voice was gruff, barely above a whisper.

Jey let his hands roam your body. His fingers slipped between your inner thighs, tickling your slit. Once he discovered that the lingerie set was crotchless, his eyes refocused on you. He continued to play with your slick folds, smirking down at you as he did so. You were already on the brink.

“I got your pussy drippin’ already, baby.” He taunted, as he removed his hand. He left you aching for his fingers, wanting to feel them inside of your soaking cunt. Jey ripped his jacket and shirt off in one go, his tight jeans soon following suit.

He wasted no time lining his thick cock up with your entrance, beginning to push his length inside of you. He wasn’t giving you time to adjust or prepare, but you didn’t need it. You were used to his size. You enjoyed when he behaved this way; so aggressive and dominant. It turned you on beyond belief. Once he had fully entered, he started stroking quickly. His hand held your neck in place, as he suckled on your neck, leaving hickies everywhere. You’d have to cover them up in the morning.

“You’re the only gift I need, baby.” He grunted, picking up the speed a bit. His grip around your neck tightened, leaving you a whimpering mess beneath him.

“Daddy,” You mewled, melting under his spell. Jey let out a breathy laugh, pulling his head up to look you in the eyes. “What’s my name, baby?”

“D-daddy,” You purred, never looking away from his hickory eyes. He smirked, giving you a deep kiss as a reward. “Say it again.”

“Daddy!” You whine, succumbing to his incredible stroke game. He’d slowed down momentarily, using it to his advantage. As you continued to call him Daddy, he continued to tease you.

“That’s right, Y/N. I’m your Daddy,” He growled in your ear, nipping at your earlobe. He began pistoning in and out of you at an alarming rate. You couldn’t keep quiet, moaning and gasping how good he felt. He was living up to his promise, fucking you into a euphoric state.

“Hnng, mm, ngh,” Unable to form a coherent sentence, you’d been reduced to nothing but a slew of moans. Jey was in love with what he was doing to you. “Good girl. Take my dick, baby.”

Jey pulled you off the wall, wrapping both of his arms around your waist as he bounced you up and down on his cock. The squelching noises of how wet you were filled the room, along with the sounds of passion omitting from you both.

“Are you going to cum for me, baby? Are you going to let Daddy destroy you?” Jey whispered, slipping his hand around your neck. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, as if you were searching for your words. They’d left you a few strokes ago.

“Y-yes..” You managed to say, tightening your legs around his waist. Jey began to pound you ruthlessly, not letting up for a single second. His thumb flicked back and forth over your clit, grinning as you started to squirt a bit. Your orgasm was on the horizon. Your body felt like it was on a spiritual plane of pleasure, spasming as your orgasm claimed you. Jey didn’t stop, though. He loved to overstimulate you until you couldn’t take anymore.

“Fuck!” You hissed, draping your body against his. Jey braced you against him, feeling you growing weaker in his arms. He slowed down, walking the two of you over to the bed. He laid you down on the mattress, pulling himself out of you. He smiled down at you, before he kneeled in front of you. You pulled yourself up to look into his eyes. “What are you doing, babe?”

Jey laughed. “I haven’t had my birthday cake yet,”

[kittyamore0]

MASTERLIST !

★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ★⋆.

★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ★⋆.

@kittiescrownedsoul━ LOVE THIS HOE!

Status: editing, uncompleted Masterlist for all works

★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔

UNFINISHED SERIES!━

( ๑ ˃̵ᴗ˂̵)و ♡━ Slashers with a GN! S/O who has a low self-esteem, part I:

( ๑ ˃̵ᴗ˂̵)و ♡━Slashers find out their S/O has killed, part I: ( ๑ ˃̵ᴗ˂̵)و ♡━Slashers find out their S/O has killed, part II: ( ๑ ˃̵ᴗ˂̵)و ♡━Slashers find out their S/O has killed, part III:

( ๑ ˃̵ᴗ˂̵)و ♡━Slashers with a S/O who gets their favorite color lingerie, part I:

( ๑ ˃̵ᴗ˂̵)و ♡━Slashers with a vampire S/O, part I: ( ๑ ˃̵ᴗ˂̵)و ♡━ Slasher with a Vampire S/O, part II:

( ๑ ˃̵ᴗ˂̵)و ♡━Genshin men with a nice! Fatui harbinger! GN! S/O:

( ๑ ˃̵ᴗ˂̵)و ♡━ Slashers with a S/O who kills for fame:

( ๑ ˃̵ᴗ˂̵)و ♡━ Knocking at deaths door, Ethan Landry x Reader, part I: ( ๑ ˃̵ᴗ˂̵)و ♡━ Knocking at deaths door, Ethan Landry x Reader, part II:

( ๑ ˃̵ᴗ˂̵)و ♡━ Paper, part II, Scream 4 x child! reader:

★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆.

COMPLETED WORKS!━

(づ˶•༝•˶)づ♡━ "Im sorry. This is all my fault." -- An angst, KIt walker x Fem! Reader:

(づ˶•༝•˶)づ♡━Our first time -- A NSFW, Brahms Heelshire x Fem! Reader one-shot:

(づ˶•༝•˶)づ♡━My dear best friends -- A SFW, Post-death Tate Langdon x Fem! Reader x Post-death Violet Harmon:

(づ˶•༝•˶)づ♡━Yandere! Male! Crush x GN! Reader:

(づ˶•༝•˶)づ♡━Yandere! Elias Del x Babysitter! GN! Reader head canons:

(づ˶•༝•˶)づ♡━Yandere! Secret admirer x GN! Reader:

(づ˶•༝•˶)づ♡━ Scaramouche/Kunikuzushi x Fem! Reader -- NSFW post:

(づ˶•༝•˶)づ♡━ My return, scream 6 x Ghostface! Reader:

(づ˶•༝•˶)づ♡━ My sweet baby, Ethan Landry x fem! Reader, part I: (づ˶•༝•˶)づ♡━ Our sweet baby, Ethan Landry x fem! Reader, part II: (づ˶•༝•˶)づ♡━ Our complete family, Ethan Landry x fem! Reader, part III:

(づ˶•༝•˶)づ♡━ Confessions, Ethan Landry x Fem! Reader:

(づ˶•༝•˶)づ♡━ Opposites attract, Ethan Landry x reader:

(づ˶•༝•˶)づ♡━ His lover - Jill Roberts x GN! Reader

★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ALL SLASHERS!━

૮ ˙Ⱉ˙ ა━Slashers with a GN! S/O who has a low self-esteem, part I: ૮ ˙Ⱉ˙ ა━"Im sorry. This is all my fault." -- An angst, Kit walker x Fem! Reader:

૮ ˙Ⱉ˙ ა━Slashers find out their S/O has killed, part I: ૮ ˙Ⱉ˙ ა━Slashers find out their S/O has killed, part II: ૮ ˙Ⱉ˙ ა━Slashers find out their S/O has killed, part III:

૮ ˙Ⱉ˙ ა━Slashers with a S/O who gets their favorite color lingerie, part I:

૮ ˙Ⱉ˙ ა━Slashers with a Vampire S/O, part I: ૮ ˙Ⱉ˙ ა━Slasher with a Vampire S/O, part II:

૮ ˙Ⱉ˙ ა━Our first time -- A NSFW, Brahms heelshire x Fem! Reader one-shot:

૮ ˙Ⱉ˙ ა━My dear best friends -- A SFW, Post-death Tate Langdon x Fem! Reader x Post-death Violet Harmon:

૮ ˙Ⱉ˙ ა━ Slashers with an S/O who kills for fame:

૮ ˙Ⱉ˙ ა━ My sweet baby, Ethan Landry x fem! Reader, part I: ૮ ˙Ⱉ˙ ა━ Our sweet baby, Ethan Landry x fem! Reader, part II: ૮ ˙Ⱉ˙ ა━ Our complete family, Ethan Landry x fem! Reader, part III:

૮ ˙Ⱉ˙ ა━ Knocking at deaths door, Ethan Landry x Reader, part I: ૮ ˙Ⱉ˙ ა━ Knocking at deaths door, Ethan Landry x Reader, part II:

૮ ˙Ⱉ˙ ა━ My return, scream 6 x Ghostface!Reader:

૮ ˙Ⱉ˙ ა━ Confessions, Ethan Landry x Fem! Reader:

૮ ˙Ⱉ˙ ა━ Opposites attract, Ethan Landry x reader:

૮ ˙Ⱉ˙ ა━ Paper, part II, Scream 4 x child! reader:

૮ ˙Ⱉ˙ ა━ His lover - Jill Roberts x GN! Reader

✧.*✩‧₊˚ ✧.*✩‧₊˚ ✧.*✩‧₊˚ ✧.* SOLO SLASHERS! ✩‧₊˚ ✧.*✩‧₊˚ ✧.*✩‧₊˚ ✧.*✩‧₊

Jason Voorhees

2. Micheal Myers

3. Charles Lee Ray

4. Tiffany Valentine

5. Patrick Bateman

6. Tate langdon

૮ • ﻌ - ა⁩━ My dear bestfriend -- A SFW, Post-death Tate Landon x Fem! Reader x Post-death Violet Harmon:

7. Brahms Heelshire

૮ • ﻌ - ა⁩━Our first time -- A NSFW, Brahms heelshire x Fem! Reader one-shot:

8. James March

9. Stu Macher + Billy Loomis

10. Jennifer Check

11. Billy Lenz

12. Kurt Kunkle

13. Vicent Sinclair

14. Bo Sinclair

15. Lester Sinclair

16. Bubba Sawyer

17. Pennywise

18. Carrie White

19. Hannibal Lector

20. Norman Bates

21. Jill Roberts

૮ • ﻌ - ა⁩━ His lover - Jill Roberts x GN! Reader

22. Amber Freeman

23. Freddy kruger

24. Ethan Landry

૮ • ﻌ - ა⁩━ My sweet baby, Ethan Landry x fem! Reader, part I: ૮ • ﻌ - ა⁩━ Our sweet baby, Ethan Landry x fem! Reader, part II: ૮ • ﻌ - ა⁩━ Our complete family, Ethan Landry x fem! Reader, part III:

૮ • ﻌ - ა⁩━ Knocking at death's door, Ethan Landry x Reader, part I: ૮ • ﻌ - ა⁩━ Knocking at deaths door, Ethan Landry x Reader, part II:

૮ • ﻌ - ა⁩━ Confessions, Ethan Landry x Fem! Reader:

૮ • ﻌ - ა⁩━ Opposites attract, Ethan Landry x reader:

★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ALL AMERICAN HORROR STORY WORKS!━

•ᴗ•━ My dear best friends -- A SFW, Post-death Tate Langdon x Fem! Reader x Post-death Violet Harmon:

•ᴗ•━ "Im sorry. This is all my fault." An angst, Kit walker x Fem! Reader:

★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆ AMERICAN HORROR STORY SEASONS!━

MURDER HOUSE:

Tate Langdon

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚━ My dear best friend -- A SFW, Post-death Tate Langdon x Fem! Reader x Post-death Violet Harmon:

2. Violet Harmon

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚━My dear best friend -- A SFW, Post-death Tate Langdon x Fem! Reader x Post-death Violet Harmon:

3. Debating on if i should put more characters

ASLYUM:

Kit Walker

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚━"Im sorry, this is all my fault." -- An angst, Kit walker x Fem! Reader:

2. Lana Winters

3. Grace Bertand (only if requested or on rare occasions)

COVEN:

Kyle Spencer

2. Zoe Benson

3. Madison Montgomery

4. Cordelia Goode

FREAK SHOW:

Jimmy Darling

CULT:

Kai Anderson

HOTEL:

James March

★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆.

ALL AVATAR CHARACTERS!━

Nothing here, yet.

✧.*✩‧₊˚ ✧.*✩‧₊˚ ✧.*✩‧₊˚ ✧.* SOLO AVATARS! ✩‧₊˚ ✧.*✩‧₊˚ ✧.*✩‧₊˚ ✧.*✩‧

Jake Sully

2. Neytiri Sully

3. Neteyam Sully

4. Lo'ak Sully

5. Kiri Sully

6. Tonowari

7. Ronal

8. Tsireya

9. Aonung

★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆.

ALL ALICE IN THE BORDERLAND CHARACTERS!━

Nothing here, yet.

✧.*✩‧₊˚ ✧.*✩‧₊˚ ✧.*✩‧₊˚ ✧ SOLO AIB CHARACTERS! ✩‧₊˚ ✧.*✩‧₊˚ ✧.*✩‧₊˚

Ryohei Arisu

2. Shuntaro Chishiya

3. Kodai Tatta

4. Dakichi Karube

5. Sunato Banda

6. Hikari Kuina

7. Ann

8. Yuzuha Usagi

9. Mira Kano

★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆.

ALL DISNEY CHARACTERS!━

Nothing here, yet.

✧.*✩‧₊˚ ✧.*✩‧₊˚ ✧.*✩‧₊˚ ✧.* SOLO DINEYS! ✩‧₊˚ ✧.*✩‧₊˚ ✧.*✩‧₊˚ ✧.*✩‧✩‧₊

Too many to name.

★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆.

ALL OCS!━

ღ━Yandere! Male! Crush x GN! Reader head canons:

ღ━Yandere! Secret admirer x GN! Reader:

ღ━Yandere! Elias Del x Babysitter! GN! Reader:

✧.*✩‧₊˚ ✧.*✩‧₊˚ ✧.*✩‧₊˚ ✧.* SOLO OCS! ✩‧₊˚ ✧.*✩‧₊˚ ✧.*✩‧₊˚ ✧.*✩‧✩‧₊˚ ✧

Elias Del My dear babysitter:

☁︎━ Yandere! Elias Del x Babysitter! GN! Reader head canons:

2. Noah Whitlock Love letters:

☁︎━ Yandere! Secret admirer x GN! Reader:

★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆.

ALL GENSHIN IMPACT CHARACTERS!━

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪━ Genshin men with a nice! fatui harbinger! GN! S/O A SFW head canons of the genshin men:

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪━ Scaramocuhe/Kunikuzushi x FEM! Reader -- NSFW post:

✧.*✩‧₊˚ ✧.*✩‧₊˚ ✧.*✩‧₊˚ ✧ SOLO CHARACTERS! ✩‧₊˚ ✧.*✩‧₊˚ ✧.*✩‧₊˚ ✧.*✩‧

Aether

2. Venti

3. Xiao

4. Kaedehara Kazuha

5. Shkanoin Heizou

6. Scaramouche

𓆩𓆪━ Scaramocuhe/Kunikuzushi x FEM! Reader -- NSFW post:

7. Lumine

8. Jean

9. Sucrose

10. Faruzan

11. Albedo

12. Zhongli

13. Arataki Itto

14. Gorou

15. Noelle

16. Ningguang

17. Yun Jin

18. Razor

19. Cyno

20. Lisa

21. Fischl

22. Beidou

23. Keqing

24. Raiden shogun/Raiden Ei

25. Yae miko

26. Kuki Shinobu

27. Baizhu

28. Tighnari

29. Al Haitham

30. Childe/Tartaglia

31. Xingqiu

32. Kamisato Ayato

33. Mona

34. Sanganomiya Kokomi

36. Yelan

37. Diluc

38. Thoma

39. Amber

40. Hu tao

41. Yanfei

42. Xinyan

43. Yoimiya

44. Kaeya

45. Eula

46. Rosaria

47. Ganyu

48. Kamisato Ayaka

49. Shenhe

50. Dottore

51. Pantalone

52. Columbina

53. Arlecchino

★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆.

This program is too tired to continue, and will carry on working when we have recharged its battery. Please, come back when updated. Thank you...!

★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆.

★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆. ࿐࿔★⋆.

[simpingcowboy]

Lovelight

Pairing: Marcus Pike x GN!Reader, established relationship

Word Count: 2k+

Warnings: Being aggressively in love with Marcus Pike, light use of pet names, getting almost stood up, feeling of romantic inadequacy, just a teensy bit meta, The Wizard of Oz spoilers?

Summary: Even the worst of days are made better with your boyfriend Marcus Pike around

A/N: Another one down for my Year of ABBA as part of the "Year Of" Creations @yearofcreation2023 February edition!!! I've been on a Marcus kick so here we are!

It was a miserable day. A long, terrible, tiresome day. Even your room, your personal sanctuary, felt dreary and gloomy. The wide window offered no comfort either. The rain falling over D.C. clouded the skies. The whole world looked dark from inside your apartment. You let out a sigh of exhaustion; surrendering to the comfort of your bed. As you stare up at the blank old dirty ceiling, a soft knock is heard from the door.

"Babe?" The voice calls, slowly unlocking the door.

You perk up at that voice. Marcus…you smile to yourself, realizing your partner is at the door. Finally, using the spare key you'd given him ages ago.

"I'm here! Come on in." You call back to him.

You sit up on the bed, and make your way over to the door. The two of you practically bump into each other as you meet in the narrow doorway. Marcus looks as perfect as ever. Nicely clean shaven, hair just a bit tussled from the day, in his usual black suit and blue button up combo, a beautiful bundle of flowers in his hands.

"Woah!" Marcus says, trying not to knock you over. "Hi Baby," he says cheerfully, "I heard you had a bit of a day so I uhh thought I'd surprise you." A big smile overcomes his face as he tilts the flowers towards you. "Tada!"

Your eyes shift down to the bouquet. You find yourself giggling at the barcode still peeking out from the top. Imagining Marcus running out from the office to the corner store to grab these. Still, the colors are vibrant. Your favorite. The smell is bright. As you gaze back up at Marcus, the whole world feels brighter too.

"Do you like them? Sorry I couldn't go to the usual florist but I-" Marcus rambles on.

"No." You answer with a smile, taking the flowers in your arms. "They're perfect. You're perfect."

A tinge of red flushes his cheeks at your statement. "Far from it but I'm glad you like them. I also-" he reaches around the still open door to grab a bag from the hallway, "got take out! It's your favorite." He smiles bashfully. Suddenly concerned he'd gone a bit overboard. "I hope it's okay."

"You really are perfect, huh?" You tease, pulling him in and shutting the door behind him.

"I try." He concedes with a shrug. Moving the take out over to your table. Carefully pulling the food out of the bag.

You go to the kitchen, grabbing a vase and filling it with water. Dropping the bouquet in and rushing it over to show Marcus. "Look how pretty they are!" You can't help but smile at them. They fit perfectly. Suddenly, you could ignore all the old stains on the table top.

He chuckles at you, "They look good in here." He agrees.

You inhale, getting a sniff of the food. "That smells so good!" You exclaim, taking your seat across from Marcus.

"Ugh you're telling me! I had to stop myself from just eating it all in the car." He laughs, taking the plastic utensils in his hands.

You eagerly dig in. The flavors hitting your tongue like a firework. It was so rich. Cooked to absolute perfection. Though you know it had likely been some fifteen minutes of waiting in Marcus's car, it was somehow the perfect temperature. "Oh Marcus…I swear the food is never this good when you're not there! Are you sure you're not tipping off the chef or something?"

He scoffs, smiling at the absurdity. "Babe, the first time I went there was with you. There's no way I would have been able to do that."

You squint your eyes at him, a look of fake suspicion on your face. "I'm onto you Agent Pike."

"Yeah yeah," he rolls his eyes, taking another bite of his dinner, "eat your food!"

You continue chatting through dinner, airing out all of the day's frustrations. To which Marcus dutifully listens. He then goes on to talk a bit about his day. Nothing exciting, just writing up reports on his latest sting. Though he just so fails to mention how he left most of them piled on his desk when he heard of your bad day. Still- you cling to every word. At times it felt like Marcus could be talking about nothing at all, and you'd still be totally fascinated about it. Eventually you both finish. Marcus is quick to insist on cleaning up. Claiming as he always did that he had "brought the mess over" and therefore was responsible to clean it. Knowing that fight was yours to lose, you allow it. Watching from the table as he neatly stacks the takeout boxes before throwing them in the trash.

"All done!" Marcus claps his hands together celebratory. "Any ideas for how you'd like to spend the rest of the night?"

You pause to think, "Maybe a movie?"

He smiles with a nod. "Sounds good." He pulls on his tie, loosening it from around his neck. "Do you mind if I change first?"

"Be my guest. Your clothes are in the second drawer where they always are."

Marcus rounds the corner to your bedroom to change. You take the opportunity to get comfortable on the couch. Your body sinks into the soft cushions. A relaxed sigh leaving your body as your hands trace over the smooth material. Everything felt so cozy.

"This look alright?" Marcus steps out into the room giving you a spin. A white V-neck t-shirt on, paired with his comfy grey sweatpants.

You smile up at him, he just looks so snuggleable! "You look great. Now, come here!" You reach for him with outstretched arms.

Marcus, never one to keep you waiting, is quick to join you on the couch. Sitting besides you, pulling you into his chest in a tight embrace. "Alright, what are we watching?"

"No clue." You shrug.

"Channel flipping it is!" Taking the remote in his hand, he begins scouring for something to watch. "Ohh here's something, The Wizard of Oz?"

You watch him with wide eyes. A sense of sentimentality taking over you. "That's the first movie we saw together."

Marcus pauses for a moment, remembering. "Yeah…it is, isn't it? Though, I think we missed the opening of it."

"Which was your fault by the way!"

"Traffic was bad!" He defends.

You can't help but tease. "Excuses, excuses!" You huff as the memory of that date.

You stood impatiently on a corner downtown, across from the movie theatre. Tapping your foot and struggling to stop yourself from sending another text asking if Marcus was standing you up. It'd been about ten minutes since the movie started, and another twenty minutes since Marcus was supposed to have been there. Suppressing the tear in your eye, you bite the bullet and turn to head home. A hand grabbing your waist from behind to stop you.

"Wait-" the man pleads with a voice you recognize, Marcus. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. The traffic was so bad and I- I got here as fast as I could. I didn't see your texts until I was here. And I-" he pauses.

You turned slowly, with half a mind to tell him off for almost making you cry. But you can't. As soon as Marcus was in view, all your frustrations disappeared. It didn't matter that he was late. Only that he was here. And that those big brown puppy dog eyes were all yours again.

"Fuck-" he cuts himself off, leaning in to kiss you unable to resist the urge.

You relax even further into his touch. His hands still on your waist pulling you closer. Your hands wrapping around his neck, holding him to you. "Marcus…" you murmur softly, pulling away briefly.

"I'm sorry." He repeats against your lips. "I should have been here." He kisses you once more, pulling you tight against him.

Suddenly, the traffic seemed to get a little lighter.

"Marcus?" You grab his attention, your mind focusing back on the present. "What happens in the beginning anyways?"

"Of The Wizard of Oz?"

You answer with a nod.

"Well. We start out in Kansas with Dorthy who just got out of school. She's just kind of going about her day. Running into a whole little cast of characters that make up the main cast. A mean neighbor who's the witch. Lion, scarecrow, and the tinman are this group of guys who work on the farm. So on and so on. Same as the end of the film. She sings a little song and then a tornado happens. And we're in Oz!"

"There's a transition, right? When the movie switches into color?"

"Ah yes! That's the really cool part! After the tornado, she opens the door and the world outside is in color. I looked up how they did it but…it kind of ruins the magic." He says with a guilty smile.

"I know the feeling. Of Dorthy I mean. That feeling of the world suddenly being in color.'

"Yeah?" Marcus prompts you, asking for more.

You lean into his ear, with a low whisper, "The same feelings I get being around you."

He playfully pushes you off, "Okay now you're just teasing." His cheeks red with embarrassment.

"I'm serious, Marcus." You wrangle your way back into his arms. "I felt horrible earlier, but there's just something…when you're around…I don't know. My days are just so much better. It's like this aura? Or vibe?"

"A lovelight?" Marcus offers.

"Love-light?" You repeat.

"Yeah, you know…like the ABBA song?" He sighs and begins to half heartedly sing, "You must have a lovelight, everything around you is lovelight."

You chuckle, Marcus's affinity for old media never failing to entertain you.

"You've gotta know that one!"

"I do, I was just hoping you'd sing it for me." You smirk, knowing your plan worked.

He laughs, hiding his face behind his hands. "You got me."

You smile at him, moving his hands to plant a soft kiss on his lips. A smile tucked into each of your faces. "I like it." You quietly say into the kiss.

"Like what?"

"Lovelight…it fits." You nuzzle against his cheek. "You light up my whole world, Marcus. All the things you do. The things you say. Just the way you are. Everything around you is…lovelight."

His face goes red at your turn of affection. "You like it? It's not too much?" Insecurity creeps up his neck. He knows previous partners had felt suffocated by his attentiveness. But if you really liked it maybe…

"Yes. I love it. It makes me feel good. Being with you feels right. Everything about you is right." You lean, gently pressing a kiss to his cheek. "Don't let anyone dim your lovelight, Marcus."

Under you, Marcus anxiously bites his cheeks. His sweet dimples popping in and out as he tries to hide a smile. His eyes, dancing around to avoid catching yours. Though he has lots to say, "I love you…" is all he manages to vocalize.

You smile into his jaw, "I love you too Marcus. Now, I believe we have a movie to watch!" You relax back down at his side.

Marcus flashes you a quick grin. "To Oz we go." He says as he turns on the film.

The rest of the night is peaceful. Full of behind the scene facts from Marcus, and snacks you'd been saving for moments like this. After the film ends, you're both quick to agree to turn in early. Both you and Marcus are tired from your day, and know the next will be equally as tiring as well. Marcus takes his place in bed beside you, turning off the bedside lamp.

"Goodnight Baby." He gives you a soft kiss before tucking himself under the comforter.

"Goodnight Marcus." You return his notion.

As you get comfortable under the covers, you notice something. With Marcus around, even that old dirty ceiling seems a little whiter.

[sunnylands-world]

≪ Sunny's navigation ⪼

✍ as the writer of everything on this page you do not have my permission to take my ideas, repost them on other sites, translation them or copy them. [Read the rules for more]

Hello readers and mutuals, if you don't know already I go by sunny and welcome to my blog!

My account for questions and prompts is: sunnylandsworldwithwords

And feel free to ask me anything writing related there

Feedback: tell me what you think of my writing! I love to improve in certain areas.[be nice though]

⪻ About me ⪼

Hobbies for sunny: I like to write, read and make edits. Some of my other hobbies include dancing, singing, drawing, and sometimes painting or hanging out with family.

Age: 18

My favorite colors are: blue, Green, peach orange, white, sunset yellow, lavender, beige, and other pastel colors

My pronouns are: she/her

Words to Writers 1

Writers motivation 2

Writer buddies

HAPPY 189 FOLLOWERS!

Little bird - sunny's poem

Sunny's writing tips

Sunny's writing tips 2

Sunny answers writing struggles [writing tip 3]

Appreciate to those that I love

Trending !!!

⪻ Me at Hogwarts ⪼

First house: Hufflepuff

Second: ravenclaw

Patronus: dog

Wand: Yew with a Core of Dragon Heartstring

⪻ Readers ⪼

[I recommend reading this if you read my fics or would like to request]

First off thank you for coming to my page. I appreciate your reads, comments, reblogs and requests and any support for that matter.

If your okay with it tell me your thoughts I ask that you do it kindly, I'm a easy cry baby. ♡

My fandoms include: Harry Potter, Stranger Things, Marvel, The walking dead, and others. I also write for celebrities too! So basically multi-fandom but I am know best for my draco content.

My writing style can be more poetry like so that's a warning!

I do not write relationships between underage readers or characters! No one will be in a relationship with a character under 18

I write Draco in different universes or whatever it's called 😂

I occasionally do stepcest fics the reader is always 18 and up, so don't be sick and say she's younger or I'll block you. if this bothers you, you can block me, don't bother interacting with me about it.

The only time the reader, character or both are underage in my fanfiction is to describe highschool [17,16 but this more for Hogwarts] other than that they are ALWAYS 18!

Feel free to interact with me through my inbox, we should definitely fangirl together!!

You can message me as well.

i'm a very kind person, no ask or request will receive negative feedback so don't be shy, speak your mind.

If you say anything negative expect to be blocked from my page.

I love good criticism so if you see areas I can improve by all means tell me. [kindly] I'm always trying to be better at what I do!

I write fluff, angst, and smut

I don't have an age restriction since I know people underage are reading "certain" content with that being said what you consume is your choice! I will not be held responsible for any of it

Rules

Tips for you guys 🫂💫

Things I haven't tried writing yet and may or may not be comfortable with include: writing about sleeping with people on their period [the thought of it just doesn't feel right but I may write it], harm to my favs mental health or suicide unless it's for the plot. I may add to this over time

You can leave as many requests as you like however, I cannot promise I'll write them right away as some requests are more complex and may take longer to write.

[this doesn't mean I won't get to it!]

⪻ Ship's ⪼

Ships I think are okay but am too jealous of or don't like include: Eddie Munson + Steve Harrington, Hermione + Draco, Harry + Draco, and other Harry Potter ships that give me the icks, Eddie + Chrissy, and more [either they bother me or the possessiveness in me to have them all to myself is making me hate it and I can admit that 😌]

I do not hate others or comment my opinion on said ships. what you like is your choice, I will not try and change your mind.

However, I may write polyamorous relationships with said ship's but I won't have it be like them being together more so they are both with the reader.

⪻ links 🔗 ⪼

MY TAGLIST

Draco's masterlist

DRACO UNIVERSE'S

⪻ Sunny supports ⪼

sunny accepts all types of religions, castes, and creeds, and gend all igbtq+ communities. I do not like hate towards anyone! I am more than happy to talk with people about anything including mental health! I don't want people to feel unwanted, unsupported, or anything so I will help in any way I can.

[ageless-aislynn]

Yay, I’ve finished my second Mass Effect: Andromeda playthrough, this time romancing Peebee! I was just going to do the - ahem - Zero-G no strings option and quit there but it turned out that the save point I jumped in at was literally right at that part so I decided to keep on playing, just to do more of the flirting etc. Then I got to the scene where we - AHEM - locked in the romance and that was so near to the end of the game by that point that I decided to finish it so I could get to the movie night, because that was something I loved in my initial playthrough with Jaal!

I really think they should’ve let Lexi (the blue Asari lady on the right for those who don’t know 😉) sit next to Drack (the big Krogan fella on the left). Nobody’s ever going to convince me that she’s not at least a little bit sweet on him, d’aww. 😉

Sadly, you don’t get your honey with you during movie night when you romance Reyes but I guess that much sexy sitting on a sofa would’ve caused a spontaneous combustion! 😇😉

D’aww, and here’s Sara and Peebee! And Vetra behind them on the left who seems to be napping, like Cora is on the right, lol! Well, the crew of the Tempest had a hard day, after all. They don’t need a nap, they need a full-on good night’s sleep! 😴😇😉

Now, for my next trick... I want to do a playthrough with Sara and Vetra before I switch over to Scott. I haven’t gotten into modding so all of my Sara’s looks are basically just changing the color and style of her outfit, though I did think to give her a different hairstyle with Peebee. I honestly love her look with Reyes, I think the outfit and red and black coloring really suit her! 💖 (My Sara x Reyes vid ‘cause I really love them a lot, your honor 😉)

I’m not sure if I’ll keep her hair red (I really do like the red hair, though, so I’ll probably just try for a different style) and then may do a different color variation on the red and black outfit. I want her to be all spiffy for our best Turian girl, after all! 😇😇😇

For Scott, I actually like the default look for him, so am not planning on changing his face like I did with Sara. The Sara default face is one of those that can look nice from one angle, then a little weird from another, so I went with preset 5 or 6, can’t remember which at the moment, (edit: I went back and looked and that is NOT preset 5 or 6, I’m not actually sure which preset she is, oops) and made some minor makeup changes between all 3 romances.

Scott and Sara’s default looks. Annnnnd now I feel bad for dissing her default look. Okay, new plan: I’ll do a playthrough in her default look once I’m done with my Vetra romance. I wanted at least one more playthrough to romance Suvi, so... here’s my chance! *pats default!Sara*

Anyway, Scott is definitely going to romance Cora first for his full playthrough, then we’ll back up and switch to Gil because holy moly, I really ended up caring about Gil and I’d love to see how it’s going to work out with Gil having a baby with his friend Jill once he’s in a relationship with Scott! 🤔 Scott also needs to romance Avela because, as I love to remind y’all...

I know it’s just a tiny little quasi-romance but it’s KATE KENNEDY and if I can romance Kate frickin’ Kennedy in a video game, then, by Jove, step back and watch me get my romance on, yeahhhhhhh mannnnnnn!

(I feel like Vannak is representing every single person reading this right now... 😮😂😂😂)

This playthrough took me about 60 hours instead of 120 like the first one because I dropped several of the side quests this time. I also knew to place the forward stations right away so you can fast travel and such. I honestly think I can cut the time in a half again just because I have a better idea of which quests you need to do and which you don’t. I’m still really loving the game, even more as I get more comfortable with everything.

Ahhh yeah, look at how comfortable Sara is with her Pathfinder duties now! 😂😂😂

[katewalker]

my fave edits of 2022

just like last year, i want to pat my silly brain for making stuff on the puter, so here's my top 10 for the edits i posted on this little blog in 2022 with a before/after editing for some stuff:

10. the Rapp Scallion gifset - because it was fun to make and the animation is just that good (and thank you Sae to make me gif good old point'n'click games 💟)

09. the first gifset I made for Syberia in better quality and also realising I got better at coloring (I love this game with my entire being but it is horrible to color)

08. the Razputin Aquato dancing gifset (my baby son) because it loops perfectly and you'll see that i like the color purple

07. the Syberia: The World Before gifset I made to practise blending, I still have progress to make but I couldn't say no to some angst

06. the Delphene CC menu gifset in one the most recent patch for BG3 because i do love her so much and the coloring is nice here

05. the Pernille gifset in her bikini because you have no idea the time i spent to make her wink while doing her little pose and managing so many thing at the same time... also she's hot af

04. the video i made for Sae's birthday, because i invested a lot of time to edit this (even the audio). Sae liking it is the best reward ever

03. the silly Kate Walker fancam i made for comfort, i go back regularly to it fsfdff listen i love her and this does comfort me when i'm sad

02. the Kaamelott knights as raccoon memes gifset, truly one of my greatest work ever. this tells you anything you need to know about the knights of the round table + king loth

01. the Flower District of Vaghen gifset from Syberia: The World Before... what can i say, Vaghen is such a pretty place

BONUS. i also wrote 3 pieces for Delphene and Wyll (BG3) this year and here's my fave one

last year i tagged my content creator mutuals to do this if they wanted for anything literrally any kind of content they made, so if you wanna do something like this, please tag me so i can see all the pretty things you all made!! 💟

[steele-soulmate]

Tattooed Wings, CHAPTER 579, Peter Steele & OFC, Soulmate AU

SUMMARY: Mary Claire Bradley meets her soulmate- literally- the famous Peter Steele of metal group Type O Negative. But will obstacles including trauma, stalkers, and toxic family members get in the way of their life?

WARNING: mentions of child rape (nothing graphic) PTSD, milk kink, soft smut, grinding, assault, fingering, hand jobs, blow jobs, 69, P in V sex, blood, noncon rape, violence, death, vandalism, graffiti, attempted kidnapping, break-ins, wild animal attacks, terrorist attack (sabotage) consensual impregnation, bareback, impregnation kink, creampies, terrorist attacks (shootings) hit and run pedestrian accident, precipitous labor, neonatal death, abandoned baby, child intoxication, death of a minor character

WORDS: 1153

For the next week, there were family members and friends who stopped by to offer condolences and to offer help around the house- my brothers and their families, Jackie and her yummy cooking packed away nice and neatly in Tupperware containers, Peter’s sisters and nieces with their sweet, comforting words of reassurances and quick to offer help with tending to the house, Ken Anderson with little edits and additions to his latest musical, which was set to open this next October thirty first, James and Aaron bringing little girl over to see her Papa Pete, Mama Wen Wen and cousins.

And don’t get me wrong- I was always thankful for more help around the house after the unexpected death of my baby sister. The medical report came back and her cause of death had been officially ruled as her body giving up after the mass in her head had shrunk enough.

I had gone in and announced Sammi’s untimely passing onto her Instagram and deactivated her OnlyFans, stating that I would take down her Instagram in a week. The comments were quickly filled with goodbyes to Sammi Heart and good wishes for her on the other side. I also had the feeling that Baby Noah’s father would try to seize full custody of his son from Peter and I, leading me to teaching Baby Noah our phone numbers and me becoming even more overprotective of my nephew than I already was.

I would mostly spend my time either in bed surrounded by pillows and blankets or in my office working on my autobiography or in the kitchen baking bread. I didn’t have very much energy, and aside from sweet snuggles and chaste kisses while out in public view

And sure enough, Governor Paul Thomas Grantsville sent a lawyer over to our house to serve Peter and I for full custody of his son. Peter had went outside onto the porch with a copies of Sammi’s will with included the ironclad custody paperwork for Baby Noah. Peter had already changed the little man’s last name to Ratajczyk before putting him onto his medical insurance. After showing him everything, the visiting lawyer took the summons that he had been sent to deliver and ripped it in half before leaving.

“I’ll give this to the governor to review,” he said in an apologetic tone of voice before leaving the premise.

But still I had the overwhelming feeling that the pathetic little slimeball would not rest until he had my nephew in his slimy little paws. And so if Baby Noah wasn’t in my line of sight, then he was with Peter and no one else. As much as I trusted Elizabeth and Katie, I honestly wasn’t comfortable with having the two be in charge of the bubbly little man with such a nasty human being out and about.

Elizabeth and Katie both started up school ONCE MORE at Saint Micheals, Elizabeth with her steampunk inspired attire and warm hats to keep her bald little head warm and Katie with her brightly colored converse hi tops and embroidered jeans. After dropping them off at school, Peter and I would take the babies to the park to let off some energy or pay a visit to the Cookie Place Inc. for cookies and ice cream before returning to Saint Micheal’s to pick up the girls again and reunite them with their beloved American Girl dollies.

I had caught Elizabeth stretching in her bedroom one night when I went to call her down for dinner.

“Can I join you?” I asked her, entering at her invitation and plopping down to go into a gentle straddle and reaching out to grab hold of my right foot. “What got you interested in stretching?”

Before she could answer me, Baby Tommy, little girl and Baby Noah toddled into the room and joined us, engaging in gentle baby yoga.

“Mommy, can I take ballet again?” she asked me.

“I have no objection to it,” I answered her. “Why do you ask?”

“I kind of want to dip my toes into acting on stage,” she confessed with a shrug of her shoulders. “I want to be just like you.”

I want to be just like you.

I couldn’t fight to pleased smile from growing across my befreckled face as I looked at my daughter.

She had been overjoyed at receiving the wig from his sister’s and her sisters’ friends’ hair, her father spending time after dinner one night teaching her how to draw on eyebrows. Now, Elizabeth stepped with even more confidence in her walk and her smile reached areas of her face that I never noticed before.

“Well, do you want to return to the studio you were going to before?” I asked her.

“Where did you go, mommy?” she asked as little girl and Baby Tommy began to pull the other over chubby little leg straddled together by the foot. Baby Tommy was in a baby split, feet barely even apart from each other.

“I went to a small studio three blocks away from my house,” I told her with a frown. “It was destroyed in a fire when I was fourteen and the building was torn down and the property sold to the city and made into a part of a park.”

“Oh,” she answered, deflating dramatically at my brief tale.

“But I do think my old ballet teacher’s daughter teaches now,” I continued on. “Let me look her up and see if she’s in the area, okay?”

She beamed brightly at me, restoring my faith in happiness.

TAGLISTS ARE OPEN/ ASK BOX IS OPEN/ REQUESTS ARE OPEN/ PLOT BUNNIES ARE WELCOMED

If you liked this, then please consider buying me a coffee HERE It only costs $3!!!

PETER STEELE TAGLIST

@rock-a-noodle

@ch3rry-c01a

[depyellow416]

Poky puppy images

Poky Puppy | Etsy.

The Poky Little Puppy - Wikipedia.

The Poky Little Puppy by Janette Sebring Lowery; Gustaf Tenggren.

65 Cute Puppy Pictures to Brighten Your Day.

Poky Puppy by E. K. Davis - Alibris.

The Poky Little Puppy - Penguin Random House Elementary Education.

Pomsky Dog Breed: Information and Personality Traits.

Poky Little Puppy (Board Book) - W.

Poky Puppy T-Shirt | Z.

Poky Little Puppy Free Download, Borrow, and Streaming - Internet Archive.

The Poky Little Puppy | RIF.

Poky Little Puppy Voice - Behind The Voice Actors - Images.

The Poky Little Puppy Photos and Premium High Res.

Poky Puppy | Etsy.

The bestselling picture book of all time! Five little puppies dug a hole under the fence and went for a walk in the wide, wide world.... The Poky Little Puppy was one of the original twelve Little Golden Books published in 1942, and went on to become the bestselling picture book of all time. The story of a curious puppy, who digs holes under fences and who has to go to bed without. 60 Common Examples of Poka Yoke - Lean Factories.POKY: a software suite for multidimensional NMR and 3D.POKY DOT, Fairmont - Restaurant Reviews, Photos amp; Phone Number.Poky Itali.

The Poky Little Puppy - Wikipedia.

Poky is an 8 month old Boston Puppy. He was adopted by a very loving family who adores him, but due to some unpredictable behavior he needs a new home. He needs to be an only dog. Poky is super people friendly, but we think he would do better in a home with either only adults or older kids (over 14 would probably be best. ISBN. 0307161145. The Poky Little Puppy Comes to Sesame Street is a 1997 Sesame Street Little Golden Book, a crossover between the Sesame characters and the classic Little Golden Books character The Poky Little Puppy. Poky has once again dug a hole under the fence and wandered off from his siblings (having smelled something wonderful).

The Poky Little Puppy by Janette Sebring Lowery; Gustaf Tenggren.

Janette Sebring Lowrey (March 2, 1892 – March 17, 1986) was an American children's writer, best known for writing the beloved children's classic, The Poky Little Puppy. Janette Sebring Lowrey was born in Orange, Texas. Lowrey wrote dozens of books aimed at children and young adults from the 1930s to the 1970s, but The Poky Little Puppy.

65 Cute Puppy Pictures to Brighten Your Day.

Sep 09, 2014 · Overview. The popular Little Golden Book Christmas tale about the Poky Little Puppy is now available as a board book! A large, sturdy board book edition of the popular Little Golden Book The Poky Little Puppy’s First Christmas is now available for Poky’s littlest fans! With its shiny, colorful pages, this Little Golden Book–sized board. Sep 17, 2017 - Explore Krista Crandall's board "Poky little puppy nursery" on Pinterest. See more ideas about puppy nursery, little puppies, pokey little puppy. Printable coloring page to accompany reading The Poky Little Puppy, from Little Golden Books by Random House Kids. Resource Information Age Range 3 - 7 This resource supports The Poky Little Puppy. See more support materials for The Poky Little Puppy. Donate.

Poky Puppy by E. K. Davis - Alibris.

Poky little puppy book. A cute little book with adorable pictures. I'm not too fond of the way the Poky little Puppy is always saying he is 'just a little friskyu0002. No items have been added yet!. The panel is really made to be a fabric book, but it also works great for a cute baby quilt. It was a great challenge for me! I cut the blocks 7 1/2″ square out of the panel, and added the 3″ pinwheels and 3″ x 7 1/2″ sashing strips to make it a nice crib size. It has minky on the back and a warm batting, so I quilted it with simple.

The Poky Little Puppy - Penguin Random House Elementary Education.

24. ISBN. 978-0307021342. The Poky Little Puppy is a children's book written by Janette Sebring Lowrey and illustrated by Gustaf Tenggren. It was first published in 1942 as one of the first twelve books in the Simon & Schuster series Little Golden Books. The copyright was renewed in October 1969. The Poky Little Puppy is a story about five. Five little puppies dug a hole under the fence and went for a walk in the wide, wide world.... The Poky Little Puppy was one of the original twelve Little Golden Books published in 1942, and went on to become the bestselling picture book of all time. The story of a curious puppy, who digs holes under fences and who has to go to bed without.

Pomsky Dog Breed: Information and Personality Traits.

The Poky Little Puppy. If you’re familiar with the book, “The Poky Little Puppy” then this cute.

Poky Little Puppy (Board Book) - W.

Pomskies owe their existence to an internet meme. A 2011 Buzzfeed blog post went viral that featured images of Finnish Lapphund puppies, claiming they were Siberian husky/Pomeranian mixes. The internet lost its mind and the demand for pomsky puppies was sparked, with enterprising breeders moving quickly to make it happen. Cast Poky little puppy (little goldon books) as dumbo Shy little kitten saggy baggy elephant tawny scrawny lion scruffy tugboat and tooter the train (little goldon books ) as Timothy Q mouse Gidget (the secret life of pets ) as Mrs jumbo The joker (batman ) as the ringmaster tillie(the little engine that could) as matriarch (with Georgina and chip ) Mammoth mutt (krypto the super dog) as catty. Photo Center Prints Cards Gifts Pet Gifts Same Day Photos & Gifts. Financial Services. Money Transfer Walmart Credit Card Walmart MoneyCard Reloadable Debit Cards Gift Cards Monthly Payment Plan Other Money Services.... Kohl's The Poky Little Puppy 11" Plush Dog. USD $27.34. USD $27.34. $27.34. Prices may vary online, in stores, and in-app.

Poky Puppy T-Shirt | Z.

Browse poky the puppy and friends pictures, photos, images, GIFs, and videos on Photobucket. The Poky Little Puppy | Children have loved Little golden Books, For over 50 years. they have written their names inside each front cover and pored over the colorful pictures. Parents have shared Golden Moments with their children, reading such classics as the Poky little puppy. The poky little puppy finds it hard to stay out of trouble on the special day that he and his brothers and sisters are supposed to visit their grandmother.... The poky little puppy's naughty day story and pictures by Chandler, Jean, 1927-Publication date 1985 Topics Dogs, Behavior, Dogs Publisher New York Golden Book ; Racine, Wis.

Poky Little Puppy Free Download, Borrow, and Streaming - Internet Archive.

Shop Poky Puppy T-Shirt created by eclecticiam. Personalize it with photos & text or purchase as is! A favorite story. A favorite story. Skip to content. 4TH OF JULY SALE 20% OFF SITEWIDE *... Add photos and text with our easily customizable templates. Personal Stationery. THE POKY LITTLE PUPPY by Lowrey, Janette Sebring; Tenggren, Gustaf and a great selection of related books, art and collectibles available now at AbeB. The Poky Little Puppy wasn’t disciplined in his behavior. He did what he pleased. Sometimes getting home later than his siblings meant getting dessert on nights his siblings didn’t. The last.

The Poky Little Puppy | RIF.

The Poky Little Puppy. EVERYONE KNOWS THE STORY of the poky little puppy, who had to go to bed without any strawberry shortcake. This book, which was one of the original 12 Little Golden Books that launched in October 1942, is now available in an upscale, 52-page edition that features all of the artwork that was later cut when World War II era. This listing is for the custom design of a Poky Little Puppy Inspired Baby Shower Invitation. This invitation is perfect of a Little Golden Book Baby Shower. Every book lovers dream! How to order: 1. Purchase the invitation though Etsy. 2. When asked for notes, please include custom details, size.

Poky Little Puppy Voice - Behind The Voice Actors - Images.

The Poky Little Puppy was one of the original twelve Little Golden Books published in 1942, and went on to become the bestselling picture book of all time. The story of a curious puppy, who digs holes under fences and who has to go to bed without any strawberry shortcake, has delighted families for generations. it is, quite simply, an icon. Aug 18, 2017 · More Information. The Random House Little Golden Books bus makes a stop in Houston to celebrate the 75th anniversary of Little Golden Books. Exhibit and activities include a photo op with the Poky. Check out our naughty poky puppy selection for the very best in unique or custom, handmade pieces from our shops.

The Poky Little Puppy Photos and Premium High Res.

The Poky Little Puppy Memory Glands - Funny Nostalgic Photos Memory Glands Prev. Next 08.22. The Poky Little Puppy The Poky Little Puppy is the titular character and a children's book written by Texas author Janette Sebring Lowrey and illustrated by Gustaf Tenggren. Ideal for baby showers gifts and anytime babies are celebrated. Five little puppies dug a hole under the fence and went for a walk in the wide, wide world.... The Poky Little Puppy was one of the original twelve Little Golden Books published in 1942, and went on to become the bestselling picture book of all time. The story of a curious puppy. Custom Embroidered Poky Little Puppy Quilt - Boys or Girls - Choose fabrics & images Ad by NEFSewSuite Ad from shop NEFSewSuite NEFSewSuite From shop NEFSewSuite $ 157.00 FREE... DOG puppy theme collage pack, junk journal supply dogs images stickers puppy fussy cut ephemera pack. Mix media dog bundle.

See also:

Patricia Paay Pokies

Minecraft Poki.Pl

Geelong Rsl Pokies

Madison Davenport Pokies

[anapotatowriter]

Hiii are you taking requests? If so can you please do one for edmund where the reader is his wife and just lots of flufffff <3333 thank you sm :)))

Overwhelmed

Edmund Pevensie x reader

A/N: Hey, love! Yes, my requests are open! Check out my masterlist for the rules and the fandoms! This isn't very long, but it's like, cutesy, so~ I hope you like it! If you don't, feel free to ask me to edit it in any way! Also, when requesting, please specify the era you want the story in, it makes it much easier for me!

Summary: Edmund notices that his wife has been overexerting herself as Queen, drafting ideas, practicing archery, helping Peter with tasks, and a million other things. He decides to clear their schedules and have some fun.

Contains: Teeth rotting fluff, stressed reader, Golden age!Au, wife!reader, Edmund being the all-out good husband that he definitely would be, one swear word.

Requested: Yes!

"Good morning," I heard a familiar voice whisper, making me smile subconsciously. "Morning, my love," I said softly, opening my eyes to see Edmund looking at me already. His soft brown eyes were swirling with a lighter brown color, like coffee with swirls of milk. "We should get up," I yawned, going to get out of bed. "Mmmm, five more minutes," he mumbled, pulling back near him and nuzzling his nose into the base of my neck. The satin of my dress rubbed against my skin, a stark contrast from the cotton of the boy's nightclothes. "Fineeeee," I conceded, relaxing my body into the plush bed. "Wait, shit," I remember, my eyes flying open as I jumped out of bed. "Owwww," he groaned as he landed with a thud on the ground. "Sorry, love! Gotta go! I have stuff to do," I called, grabbing my towel and running into the bathroom. I quickly changed into a modest gown, simple enough to slip on easily but nice enough to not look odd. I quickly braided my hair, placing the rose gold crown, shaped into intricate flowers, on the top of my head.

"Good morning," I called as I walked into the dining room, where Susan, Peter, and Lucy were already sitting. "I am so sorry I am late," I gasped, rushing down the long dining table and grabbing a piece of toast. As I ran back out of the dining hall, I heard Susan say, "Y/N, can you help me with archery today?" "Yeah, of course, Susan," I called out, running to the courtyard. "Hello!" I called out, placing the piece of toast on the side. "Good morning, Queen Y/N," said Oreius, bowing his head. "Let's get to the guards, shall we?" I said, clapping my hands together. I walked with Oreius to the training grounds, the piece of toast left behind in the courtyard. "I would like to thank you again, Queen Y/N, for volunteering to encourage the troops and train with them. Your perceptive nature is useful to learn about with regards to battle," he said gratefully. I smiled and said, "It's no problem! Let's get to work, shall we?"

Two hours later, I scurried away to Peter's office. When I walked in, his golden crown, shaped into intertwined leaves, lay crooked on the top of his head, his equally golden hair disheveled as his hands ran through them. When the door creaked open, he looked up hopefully before breaking into a grin, his baby blue eyes releasing any of the tension they held earlier. "Thank god you are here, Y/N! You are literally a blessing," rambled the young king as we both sat down and poured over his notes, ideas, plans, and battle strategies for the next few hours. "I've gotta go help Susan with her archery now," I called, running out of the room, the dark green material of my dress flying behind me as I ran. "Thank you, Y/N! Same time tomorrow?' he asked. "Of course, Pete!" I yelled as I ran to the archery range. I reached the ground to see Susan standing in a purple dress, her own golden crown shining in the bright sunlight of the evening sun.

"Hello, Susan," I puffed, getting out my own bow and quiver. "Let's get some warm-up done first," I said, and she nodded. I pulled out one of the arrows from the white quiver on my back and placed it onto the bow. I pulled the string and arrow back, the dark green feathers of the arrow brushing against my cheek. Twang after twang rang through the empty field as Susan and I shot arrow after arrow. "So Susan, since your weapons rarely seem to miss, we should practice making your archery faster. There is no point in knowing archery if you are too slow to fight the enemy," I said. I spent hours with Susan training her in the dangerous art of archery. "Thank you so much, Y/N," she expressed thankfully as we packed away our stuff. "No problem!" I said happily before running to the library. I sat at one of the desks and lit a candle since the sun had already set. I barely acknowledged the empty feeling in my stomach from the lack of food as I poured upon the works in the library. I analyzed thick wads of texts bound by twine and intricately designed leather-bound books, writing agreements, treaties, and plans for the other nations around Narnia.

"Hello, my love," said a voice from behind me, making me jump violently and turn around. "Oh! You scared me, you daft bimbo," I complained, looking back at the words in the book in front of me. "Sorry," he chuckled sheepishly, swooping down to press a kiss on my cheek, making me giggle at the ticklish feeling. "Go away, I need to work," I protested when he walked around the table to face me. "Y/N, you haven't eaten all day!" he sighed, pushing some of the hair that had fallen from my braid. "Who cares, Ed! I don't have time to eat, I have so much work to do!" I exclaimed, rummaging through the notes I had made. "Ok then. I won't tell you what to do, since you know what is best for you. Just come to bed soon love," he said, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead before leaving, his sliver crown glinting under the flickering candlelight.

Hours later, I stretched and got out of my chair, putting away the manuscripts. I picked up the notes I had drafted and left them on Peter's table before going to Edmund and I's chambers. There, I saw the candles still burning, Edmund sleeping uncomfortable, his torso supported by the headboard. I slowly tried to ease the brunette under the sheets, but the movement made him make up. "Hey, love," he said sleepily. "Why are you sleeping like that?" I questioned, beginning to change into my nightgown. "I wanted to wait up for you, but you were really late, so I fell asleep," he said, clinging onto me as soon as I climbed into bed. "Go to bed, my love," I said, sighing in exhaustion before falling asleep.

As much as Y/N had hoped Edmund hadn't realized, he had. He noticed everything. The dark circles under her eyes, the late sleeping time, early wake-up time, the lack of eating, and the constant running around. When she was working in the library, he gathered all his siblings in one room. "What is wrong with all of you?!" he exclaimed agitatedly, his hand running through his hair as he paced the carpeted floors. "What are you talking about, Ed?" asked Susan, concerned for her younger brother. "Y/N. She has been running around all day, doing YOUR tasks! She is barely sleeping, not eating, constantly running around and accomplishing tasks for you!' he exclaimed. "What?" asked Peter defensively, though realization dawned on his face. "How long has it been since any of you saw Y/N eat? Or sleep for longer than three hours? Or even just sit and relax? She has been running around all day, helping with archery, meeting dignitaries, helping in the kitchen, helping the guards train, meeting the citizens, and millions of other things! She needs a fucking break, and none of you even realized!" said the brunette king angrily, accusingly pointing at his siblings, who had guilty expressions on their faces. "What should we do?" asked Susan, concerned for her young sister-in-law, who she loved dearly. "Clear her schedule for tomorrow, let her sleep in, and actually take a break," commanded Edmund, and all three siblings nodded. "Of course, Ed. Whatever she needs," said Peter, standing up. Edmund nodded gratefully before going to the library. There, you had fallen asleep on your books, your body more relaxed than it had been in ages. "Up we get love,"  said Edmund softly, picking up the H/C haired girl and carrying her bridal style to her room. "Hey Ed," stirred the young girl, rubbing her eyes. "Change and get into bed, Y/N," said the boy softly. Y/N nodded blearily, changed, and climbed into the cold sheets. "Cold," she whined sleepily, making Edmund chuckle as he climbed into bed with her, the sheets soon becoming warm. "Good night, darling," he said, kissing the girl's forehead softly before drifting off himself.

"Good morning," I said when I woke up, feeling better rested than I had felt in weeks. "Why is it so sunny out?" I yawned, looking up at the brunette sitting up next to me. "Because it's almost 11 in the morning," said Edmund, making my eye widen as I fell out of bed. "Why didn't you wake me? I have so much to do, I need to help Oreius, and Mr. Tumnus, and Peter, and," I rambled as I pushed myself off of the ground and tried to tie my hair up. "Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, stop panicking, I got everything on your schedule canceled for the day," said Edmund, grabbing my shoulders to make me look at him. "Why would you do that?" I asked, stopping my movements. "Because you were over-exerting yourself, Y/N! You needed a break," said Edmund, pushing away the strands of hair on my face and cupping my cheeks. "Now, you will go, get ready, and then meet me at the stables," he commanded, a playful glint in his eyes. "Fineeeee," I mock groaned, going to the bathroom and getting ready for the day. I donned a  light green dress, flowers embroidered into the hems. I placed my crown on my head, not bothering to do anything with my hair other than comb them.

"Hey, Ed!" I said as I reached the stables. "I got Andromeda ready for you," he said sweetly, helping me up onto the horse before climbing onto Philip himself. "Hey Andromeda, it's been a while," I said softly, nuzzling my nose into her neck. Her black coat shone in the dazzling sunlight as she whinnied slightly before starting off into a trot. I sighed happily as the gentle sunshine soaked into my skin. "It's been so long," I said, glancing at Edmund beside me. "Way longer than I would like," he agreed, smiling softly at me. "Stop here," said Edmund, making Andromeda pause right at the border to the western woods. "Why?" I questioned as Edmund swooped off of Philip and held his hand out to me to help me down. "You'll see," he said cheekily, making a smile spread across my face in excitement. He brought out a huge basket along with a sheet. He spread the sheet onto the grassy floor, half of the sheet in the shade of a tree. He placed the basket down and sat me down next to him. "FOOD!" he exclaimed dramatically, flipping over the lid of the basket to reveal all sorts of food, desserts, and delicacies. Delicate ices, thinly sliced fruit, dense chocolate cake, foamy fruit juices, and well-spiced dishes. "Edmund!" I cheered, kissing his cheek quickly before taking out the food. After we finished eating, Edmund lay down on the ground, his face under the shade of the tree. I curled up next to him, heavy drowsiness clouding my mind. "Today was amazing, Ed. I am glad you did this," I sighed happily, sleep quickly taking me.

"I love you, darling. You deserve this and more," I heard him say faintly. "I'll take better care of myself," I mumbled, nuzzling my face into his neck. "Sleep now, my love," I heard before I drifted off.

[bad4amficideas]

IMAGINE SOULMATE AU (mark/tattoo, 1st contact) + YANDERE AU WITH THE BATBOYS

Gotham catch 'em all! 5am so so sorry

Edit: this is a concept, a sketch not an actual full developed story. I.MA.GI.NE. not drabble. Not oneshot. Imagine (Like you can and write in base of this, like pleaseandthank you!) (Also I'm not English tysm)

TERMS:

Canvas: noun, soulmate mark, looks like a UV tattoo. If you born with it, their appareance is a miniature which grow with you without deforming but actually get detailed (so no babies getting their marks in databases)

The Brush: noun, when you touch your soulmate for first time and your mark get colored

Painting: noun, colored canvas, which is supposed to turn into a colorful, maybe even metallic one, otherworldy for sure. Also used to refer to people who have found their soulmates.

Tear, teared: Used especially as an adjective, refers to the ugly scar/burn that remains where once was the canvas when the soulmate dies

Easel: noun, in modern times a derogatory term, person without a canvas, although some people are born without them because such souls haven't yet been born. (Yes, weasel word plays are a thing)

Imagine being another common girl in Gotham City. Your dream is to get enough money to get out or failing that, move to a "quiet" area (whatever gothamites understand as quiet).

In a lottery one, maybe find your soulmate. But since chances of finding one's soulmate are low-non existant (until point people tend to obsess if they find theirs and if your soulmate rejects you, well... legally they have the upper hand, can you believe it?? Whats this an omegaverse wtf???), that's only a nice dream and you're fine with getting only one of the two previous options and daydream with the later at a stable non-weirds-chemicals-involved-please job.

Your canvas is apparently some really pretty drawed little bird, signed by IIIIIIV. When you were little your dad play with you saying maybe they would be an ornithologist, naturalist or artist. Even when your parents weren't soulmates, they didn't want rip your dreams. But as a young adult, now you know the Brush and Paintings are things you could heard only on TV, and everyone knew media is misleading at best.

As the Wayne boys side, since they have spent a lot together, wounded and naked more or less willingy, although canvas are something private, they end up seeing each other's and realizing that theirs are identical. I pretend that Y/N representation in their body is a common female bird colored of reader choice clinging to a branch (like a robin is a common bird, if you think about it) and sometimes they hypothetically talk about her as (insert Dick begins this and it stucks better than a Disney song): babybird, duckling, birdie, lovebird, little dove, sparrow, angel, swan, songbird.

You are just one of the many girls in Gotham, you repeat yourself everyday as you do put make-up upon your canvas, over your heart. And canvas et all are something private, surely it isn't something unique. Tear, lines again, tear, reappear, but never all the canvas, only parts, you remember how your little bird spent a couple of years with part of his chest (now you're sure is a him) scarred until the lines were redrawn, then the upper-end was the scarred one, then head for a few moments?, the rest of the torso gone for moments was a recent one... You weren't the brightest pea in the pod (although apparently you were the best sperm). But, bird. Bird. Robin. And that every time you blinked there was one Vigilante more with that fucking name (although your favorite was the girl ofc! stick together!). But. BUt. BUT! Which of all of them was your soulmate and why had his head, legs, heart been ripped off and who knows what at one time or another?

You will later find your painting was a kind of watercolored robin with black eyes, beaks and legs. From its head to tail, the ussually grey upper body part was a gradient from blue to green, while its lower part did the same with red and yellow. You found it was not IIIIIIV but I (blue) II (red) III (yellow) V (green) because the now black numbers were splattered of color.

And all those rumors of who new hero/vigilante was previously "x" Robin it... maybe you were guilty or not of reading RealPeopleFictionxReader phase when young, but, Wayne and Relatives and the Batfam... nana, nana... naaaa?... right??

No way you were going to get close to those celebrities, as an attentionphobe and gothamite born, like you got all right, thank you, your instincts of self-preservation, and spending your adolescence scars on-off wasn't good for your heart... soul? So you knew you couldn't allow any of them be your soulmate (even when ofc none of then could and never would be yours). Plus even without the obvious association your mind may had or not done, you must be mental to want to be around either one, the BatFam or the Wayne Household.

Timeskip. You were finally at the University/College, studying what you want. You didn't get the waitress job. How did everyone get a waitress job except you? (on the other hand, maybe the universe was doing you a favor and you shouldn't complain) You work was cleaning in a hotel and thanks for that (even if it stinks and your hands were always sore and the bleach smell was always under your poor nose).

Especially since as a mediocre person your parents did not abuse you, although sometimes their extroversion and your introversion clashed but they did not die, tragically or not. They weren't heroes, vigilantes, or villains or a wanna be of neither. They love and care for you, they support you in college. You paid yourself the campus to start leaving the nest and finally let yourself love them... a little more far away (plus your old home was very far both work and class).

But one night, when "insert villain of your choice" (Scarecrow surely so Y/N acts seems reasonable) attack the hotel where you work and you run away the moment you hear Batman AND (which, dear, is suspicious, don't you think?) Batman intercepts you, but obviously a scared little bird like you cannot be anyone's accomplice, hostage at best, a victim?

You murmur, anxiety and/or fear increasing, something like no birds please no birds, I'm a good person, I swear, swear, only no birds, please, you give him your hotel ID and fly away uniform et all before "AND" arrives. No reader of mine will act coherently under pressure, never, unless they have been trained to do so or they had a hard life previously recognized.

You only go out for classes and work and your ID is in your hotel locker back on your next work day. You know that there are two Wayne boys studying at the same time as you (Damian, having skipped courses at Gotham Academy and also to be a meany to Tim, and said boy Tim, who needs to stop skip classes to favour vigilantism), but you don't meet any of them (as you have been able to do so far since the screams from their fans when they decide to attend classes are a great clue. They are likethe Gotham Kardashians you swear). After a month you think you can finally turn off the radar.

In fact, that night Batman kept your ID on his belt and investigated you in private. Was while rumming that either Damian or Tim found out and told the rest. And, hey, in principle they were only trying to get closer in their civil way because OBVIOUSLY you had nothing special in the record, and B. had close your case (without sealing it or give hits signaling you hide something, like if he was checking another victim of another attack even though nobody of them had seen you in one).

But why are you so scared of the definitely not so kids Wayne's? ok, you don't like to attract attention, you enjoy quality before quantity, and of its true Jason bulky built if you don't know him and Damian grumpy face can be intimidating... But after all the pantomime that the older brothers mounted in the door, attracting the glances so that either Damian or Tim would enter one of the seminars that they could pick and share with you, maybe get a seat near you, and you would look at them as if Scarecrow had thrown fear gas at you... they end stalking you, choosing you although their conscious part refuses to acknowledge that, you are still just a case, one on whom they don't mind spending large amounts of free time... but a "case".

Okay, let's say you keep you composure at the end. Then I'm sorry but they get close to you it's at least two against one. If not that day will be the next one or the next to that, they would sneak their way to you and you can't run. Greeting is polite. You must give thanks they pitied your introverted being and accounting Waynes shit so they are being subtle and you don't have middle campus with the popcorn.

ORRRRRR, let's say you manage to dodge them. For how long? without making a fuss? without being cornered and touched/grabbed without your consent?

"... Babybird. Babybird. Did you know and still you've been flying away from us?"

There I was, despising myself while tried written and then I remembered, do you know how most female birds are so dull in contrast to the male ones? I daydream a yandere+ soulmate au only to raise my spirits. Also background for a Porn without Plot YandereRobins x Reader if I ever wrote one 🤣

Edit: Damian is V (5) because in this story Stephanie Brown is the 4th (IV) Robin.

[seasonsofeverlark]

Everlark Coffee & Tea

Author: @jhsgf82

Prompt:  My birthday is September 11th, and I’d like to request a fic where Katniss and Peeta, who are friends, open a tea/coffee shop together. How they become lovers is entirely up to you:) [submitted by @taylerwrites] 

Rating: T 

Author Note:  Happy, happy birthday to the sweet, talented @taylerwrites!  I’m so glad to know you, friend, and I hope you enjoy your birthday fic!  Edit by the lovely, talented  @rosegardeninwinter.  Thank you!  Trigger Warning:  Mentions of physical child abuse, divorce, and depression. This story is much fluffier than it sounds. _____________ 

As I close the pages of their favorite storybook, one full of danger and adventure, with a happy ending, of course, I look down upon my children, our children, and I can’t help thinking of how we got here…  

Ours was a simple tale of friends who fell in love, although there were naturally a few twists and turns along the way.  I’m not good with words‒that’s Peeta’s department–but I’ll do my best to tell it.     

—–

It all started with a small coffee and tea shop… 

No, strike that, it actually began many years before, around age 5…

A new family, the Mellarks, had just moved in next door.  I was outside playing when the moving truck came.  Normally, I kept to myself and would have ignored something such as that, but something caught my eye‒a glint of sunlight off the yellowest head I’d ever seen‒and I stopped to look.  And then, there were two bright blue eyes, as blue as the sky, staring over at me.  

The little boy, about my age, came galloping over‒his parents and two brothers (I assumed) didn’t even seem to notice he was gone.    

“Hi!” the blond neighbor boy said, waving.  “I’m Peeta.  What’s your name?”  He quickly wiped dirt or sweat off on his shorts and stuck out a pale, chubby hand almost shyly.  

“Katniss,” I told him.  I looked at my own hand; it was pretty dirty, too, but I didn’t bother wiping it.  Hesitantly, I extended my much smaller, olive-toned hand, and he clasped it.    

“Katniss,” he repeated, giving my hand an exuberant yet gentle shake.    

“Yes,” I said, amazed he got it right on the first try.  I’d been called all sorts of funny names involving cats, such as Catnip…and well, I won’t get into them all.  You get the idea. 

The little boy, Peeta, started chattering about a lot of things, and it was kind of overwhelming to listen, but I didn’t really mind him talking.  Truthfully, I was tuning him out a little, contemplating my next adventure in the woods, when he caught my attention again, this time with his words. 

“What?” I asked, unsure I’d heard what I thought I did.

“Your eyes.  I like them.  I like the color.  They’re really pretty.” 

I couldn’t imagine anyone thinking plain old gray Seam eyes were pretty, especially not a boy with such nice blue ones.  

I looked into his face; his eyes were even brighter, and his cheeks were as pink as my little sister’s stuffed pig.  “Um, thank you.”  I kicked at a clot of dirt at my feet, breaking it apart with my ratty tennis shoe.  I got a peek at his shoes then, which were much nicer than mine.  

“I like your shoes,” I told him.  Because I did.  And I figured I should probably say something nice, too, like my dad taught me. 

“Thanks!” He sounded really happy about that.  “They used to be my brother’s, and they’re a little big‒sometimes they slip off‒but they’re still nice, and I like them a lot.” 

I gave him a small smile.  My baby sister, Prim, had to wear my hand-me-down baby clothes, so I was sure she’d be able to relate when she was old enough to know the difference.  

Not long after, Peeta’s parents called him to come back, and we said our goodbyes.  But before he left, he told me he was glad to meet me and that he hoped we could be friends. 

“Okay,” I said.  He smiled wide, revealing his very white teeth, and then took off running.  He turned back a couple of times to wave at me, and I laughed when he nearly tripped over a stump because he wasn’t paying attention to where he was going. 

What a silly boy.

But a nice one.  

He was okay, I thought.  

Turned out, Peeta and I got along really well, despite how different we were in looks and personalities. And even though his family was better off than mine, none of that mattered.  Peeta never saw those things, only me, and he liked me for who I was. And I liked him, too.

From that first day on, Peeta Mellark and I were inseparable.  He went on adventures with me in the woods, and I did things he liked to do, too, like coloring and helping his father bake sweets.  We didn’t see his father a lot, though, because he was very busy running the family bakery.  

When he was old enough, Peeta helped out at the bakery.  One day, he asked if I’d like to come along and help out, too.  And it was a lot of fun.  I only got to help out there once in a while, though, when it wasn’t busy, and when his mother was away.  His mother absolutely forbade me to come into the bakery.  She didn’t like me very much, and she was always really grouchy.  I called her The Witch.  Fortunately, she didn’t mind if I came over to play at his house, so long as we stayed out of her way, she said.  She usually ignored me, as she ignored Peeta.  When she wasn’t ignoring us, we often hid from her.

Aside from his witch of a mother, I suspected Peeta had a pretty good life, but it wasn’t as nice as I’d once thought.  In addition to his father being busy and his mother being a Witch, his brothers ignored him, even though he really looked up to them and wanted to be close to them.  And then, there were the occasional mysterious bruises. 

I often wondered about them, but I never asked, and Peeta always tried to hide them or had some excuse.  I should have known where they actually came from.  

One day, I saw the cause firsthand. 

I was coming over to play when I heard Peeta’s mother’s shrill, harsh voice yelling at him, calling him a ‘stupid creature.’  I was so angry in that moment that my hands balled into fists at my sides, and my entire body tightened up.    

Peeta wasn’t stupid; he was the smartest, most wonderful boy I knew!  How dare she say that about him! 

And then I saw something I never expected.  I saw her hit Peeta.  And I saw red.  I wanted to run at her and fend her off, but I froze, and it was over almost before I could even blink.  I’ll never quite forgive myself for not stopping it.  

After that, Peeta had a red welt on his face for days and then a blackish-purplish bruise for even longer.  Of course, Peeta lied to me about it, at first, but I knew, and he could tell by the look on my face that I knew.  So, he admitted it.  We never said anything else about it, but I was extremely protective of him whenever his mother was around after that, sticking to his side like glue.  From then on, if she tried to hit him, she’d have to hit me first.  

I was glad the day Peeta’s father took Peeta and his brothers away from his mother.  But I was also sad because they moved two blocks over.  That made it a lot tougher to see Peeta, but I would run there or ride my old bike, and occasionally, Peeta’s dad would pick me up and take me home because Peeta always begged to have me over to play.  I even spent the night sometimes, and we slept in the same bed, that is, until we were told we were too old to do so.  

At age 11, my world came crashing down.  That was the year my father was killed in a mine explosion.  It was devastating, for all of us, mainly my mother.  My mother practically vanished into thin air when it happened, and it was only thanks to what my father had taught me about finding food that we managed to get by.  Really, it was because of Peeta that I even remembered what to do, for he’d plucked a bunch of dandelions and given them to me in condolence the first opportunity he had to see me after it happened.  Those dandelions were what reminded me about my father’s survival lessons, and they gave me hope that we could, indeed, survive.  

And so, I gathered edibles from the forest, and sometimes our neighbor, a kind old woman we called Greasy Sae, would bring us stews.  Peeta and his father also helped take care of us, made sure we ate, and Peeta’s dad made sure we weren’t taken away from my mom‒although, we probably should have been. 

Now that she was older, I started bringing Prim along to Peeta’s (and everywhere), although I never stayed gone long.  I didn’t like leaving my mother alone for very long.  Thus, I saw Peeta less and less.  

And then high school happened, and Peeta got very involved in sports. He was a champion wrestler and very popular with the sports set, and with the girls, too.

When I noticed girls noticing Peeta, I stayed away.  What chance did I have, after all, of keeping his attention when he had so many other options who were far prettier, bubblier, and more interesting than me?  It was better that I stepped aside, for his happiness.  

Peeta seemed confused, and maybe a little hurt when I started hanging out more and more with Gale Hawthorne, who was two years older than me.  It wasn’t because I’d rather hang out with him than Peeta, or that I liked him as anything more than a friend, but he was more my speed.  Hanging out with Gale was a good distraction from Peeta’s busyness and popularity, and he wasn’t bad company.  But I didn’t talk to him like I talked to Peeta.  Peeta was still the one I chose to share my hopes and dreams with, and the one who knew all my secrets, save for one.  

In spite of my friendship with Gale, Peeta still did a lot of things he used to.  He walked me home when I wasn’t with Gale; he called me frequently, and he always remembered my birthday.  But it wasn’t exactly like it was before.  I suppose these things happen, friends drifting apart with time, but Peeta Mellark never left my mind, or my heart…    

—–

When high school ended, I expected Peeta to go off to some fancy university‒probably on a wrestling scholarship‒so imagine my surprise when he decided to stay home.  He said he wanted to stick around Panem, said that he really had no desire to go to college, and it wasn’t like his father could afford to send him and his brothers.  I couldn’t say that I wasn’t pleased that he was sticking around, even if I did think he was wasting his potential.  

But who’s to say what success is, really?  So long as a person is happy, what does it matter what job they do?  I think that’s what my father would say. 

And I just wanted Peeta to be happy.  

Peeta threw me for a loop once more when he brought up an idea I’d only mentioned twice‒to open a coffee and tea shop together.  The first time didn’t really count because we were 7 and in the middle of a (fake) tea party, but the second time was sort of legitimate.  We were thirteen, then, and talking about what we wanted to be when we grew up.  I’d jokingly said that all I knew how to do aside from hunt and forage was to mix herbs and make tea.  Peeta had said that all he could do was bake bread.  And that led to a discussion of a coffee and tea shop.  Neither of us had ever tasted coffee, but adults sure seemed to like it, so we thought it best to serve that, too, along with my teas and Peetas bread and pastries.     

I couldn’t believe Peeta remembered the idea, or that he actually wanted to do it.  

But I couldn’t say no, especially not after realizing I wanted to do it, too.  

Well, we didn’t have nearly enough money to open a business, so we spent the next few years saving up.  At the time, Peeta was sharing a meager apartment with a guy a few years older than him named Finnick Odair.  I was still at home, and I remained there until Prim got a scholarship and went off to nursing school in another state.  My mother decided to move there, too.  

After that, my childhood home felt empty and lonely, but I had no intention of selling it ever, because of my father.  Peeta was concerned about me living alone, though, and he invited me to live with him.  Pride didn’t want to allow me to accept at first, and Peeta didn’t press, but eventually, I took him up on his offer.  I, of course, planned to regularly visit my old house and keep up with the place.  

Several days after I turned 21, Peeta and I found a two-bedroom place for a good price, which was being rented out by a surly old drunkard by the name of Haymitch Abernathy.  

“You two ain’t married, huh?” old Haymitch said when we took our tour of the place.  

I blushed furiously. 

“N-no, we’re not,” answered Peeta.  

“Livin’ in sin, eh?”  He winked at Peeta, and I gaped. 

“Excuse me,” I sniped at the old man.  “We’re not doing anything of the sort!  We’re friends.” 

“Uh-huh, suure you are.  ‘Cause that always works out,” the old drunkard said.  Then he told us to take our time looking around, chortling on his way out. 

I scoffed at his retreating figure.  What did he know?  There was nothing like that between Peeta and me, and there never would be…  

Although, why did thinking that make me feel a little weird, almost…sorrowful?  Did I want there to be something more?  Just because I lit up from the inside out in Peeta’s presence and a part of me always got funny feelings when he looked at me a certain way or said something complimentary, that didn’t mean anything.  Peeta was Peeta, and I was me.    

I shrugged off my strange musings as moving-in-together jitters.

But maybe the old landlord had a point.  I’d heard that even friends sometimes couldn’t live together because their differing habits inevitably led to fighting, but I felt like that didn’t include Peeta and me.  I knew most of his habits, and what I might not know, I couldn’t imagine being annoying enough to make me not want to be by his side almost 24-7.  

In the midst of my internal panic, Peeta looked over at me, and I could only hope he hadn’t learned to read my thoughts, in addition to all of his other talents.  

Peeta gave me a disarming grin and asked, “You okay?” 

“Yeah, of course,” I assured.  

“Not having second thoughts?” 

“Why would I?”  Certainly not because of what some paunchy, slovenly old boozer who didn’t even know us said. 

“Good,” replied Peeta with a smile. 

“You?” 

“About something involving you?  Or you and me?  Never, sweetheart.”  He beamed, and I blushed.  

This was going to work.  It was Peeta, after all.  

We decided to move in that very day.  

Our place wasn’t the best, but the price was right, and it was actually kind of perfect for us.  With its sandy brick walls and low ceilings, it reminded me of a cave.  Some might think it dreary, but for me, it was a place we could hole ourselves up in, safely together from the outside world.  

Peeta and I didn’t have many belongings, so the move didn’t take long.  Of course, it seems that no matter how few possessions a person has unpacking is always a nightmare, and we spent the greater portion of the afternoon unloading boxes and finding the right place for everything.   

Thoughtful as he was, Peeta gave me the big bedroom.  As we were unloading my boxes in there, he turned to me and asked once more, “You sure about this?” 

“I already told you I was.”  As he’d alluded to earlier, if it involved us, I could never doubt.  

But that wasn’t wholly true.  I had a lot of doubts about what exactly I was to Peeta.  I knew we were friends, best friends, but I couldn’t help wondering, perhaps hoping we could be something more… 

“Just checking.”  Peeta paused a moment, a devious smirk crossing his lips. 

“What?” 

“Nothing.  Just…sure you wanna,” Peeta used air quotes, “‘live in sin’ with me?”  He smirked, and I threw a pillow at his head.  He snatched it mid-air and hugged it to his chest.  

“Yes,” I said.  “But not with that attitude I’m not!” I huffed, dropping onto the edge of my mattress and folding my arms tightly across my chest.  He rushed over and leaped onto the bed, and before I could escape, he started playfully smacking me with the pillow.  I grabbed another one and whacked him hard in the face, and it turned into an all-out pillow fight, ending with us lying on our backs, staring up at the ceiling, panting from exertion.

Hands behind his head, Peeta glanced over and smiled sweetly.

“What is it?” I smirked.  

“Nothing.”  Peeta shook his head.  “That was fun.” 

I laughed.  “Yeah, it’s been a while since we’ve had a pillow fight.”  And it was a rare thing, at that, even as children, for something like that would have definitely been frowned upon by his mother if she caught us, and my place was so small it was tough to get up to any mischief without everyone in the house knowing.  

“I have a surprise for you,” Peeta said all of a sudden.  

“Oh?  What is it?”  

“Well, it’s just in my head right now.  I’ll go get it ready.  You finish unpacking in here or relax, whatever, and I’ll tell you when it is.” 

Peeta got up from the bed then, lightly grazing my arm as he did so.

He ended up throwing a belated birthday celebration for me since we hadn’t been able to see one another on my actual birthday, though he had called me and sang on the phone like the sweet dork he was.  That evening, he cooked my favorite dinner, lamb stew and dried plums, on the old stove in the apartment, and he even baked a small cake for me.  He sang to me again and forced me to make a wish and blow out the candles like a little kid.  Well, my wish was simple, but not completely necessary‒because it had already come true. 

Well, at least, part one of three had.

And that was enough for me for now, possibly forever, if that was the way it had to be.

—–

When we weren’t working our current jobs, Peeta and I spent our days doing research together on our shared laptop, lying side-by-side on one of our beds on our stomachs, the occasional leg or arm brushing, always causing a pleasant shiver in me.  Peeta knew some about business because of his family bakery, but it didn’t hurt to be thorough.  We researched the coffee and tea industry, and we used online software to create a business plan and marketing strategy for our café.  We looked into suppliers and even visited chains and small shops in the surrounding area to check out our competition and see what they were doing.  Finally, we met with a small business advisor by the name of Coin.  She was relatively impressed with our business plan, although not at all impressed with our capital, and she advised us to start considering extremely inexpensive locations if we were serious about this. 

Coin & Associates offered a few options of location, but turned out, the best one for us was the building we were already living in, and when we had the money (approximately 10 months later), we bought the building below us.  The space was small but adequate‒I didn’t like big crowds, anyway.  Our surly old landlord was kinder than we’d anticipated, and surprisingly, he’d taken a liking to us and even gave us a deal.  All he expected in return was a little kickback in the way of leftover baked goods, which I was certain Peeta would have plenty of with the way he over-baked.  

Fixing up our coffee and tea shop wasn’t tricky, and Peeta and I were mainly in agreement on the decor.  We wanted a cozy, natural setting.  Eclectic, but not tackily so.  I wanted patrons to feel like they were off in the woods when they stepped inside, and Peeta went along with that.  We decorated the place with a mix of faux and real plants; we had ivy creeping across the back brick wall where Peeta had also painted a mural illustrating important things from our childhood, and Peeta’s art was strewn about the place.  He’d mostly done scenic paintings for our coffee & tea shop, but there was also one of me, a profile view with my braid flipped over my shoulder, wearing my signature scowl.  I don’t even know when he did that one.  When I argued with him about hanging it up, Peeta said he loved it and that my expression had a Mona Lisa-esque quality that he absolutely had to capture, which I found all-too-flattering and not at all true, but he was the artist.    

Picking a name proved more challenging than we imagined.  We tried being clever, but ultimately, that didn’t feel like our style.  Then we tried combining our names, which was…interesting.  Some of the combinations were just bad, to say the least. 

We landed on:  Everlark Coffee & Tea. 

It felt right.  

Peeta painted the sign, or signs, rather‒he went through several iterations.  

“Peeta, I know you’re a perfectionist and all, but how many hours are you going to spend on that lettering?” I asked him that day.  I’d seen him go through at least three different styles, each of which I knew had a specific name that Peeta knew, though I could barely distinguish.  

But Peeta had a vision.  And who was I to question it?   

“This is nothing.  I haven’t even gotten to the background yet, sweetheart,” he said.  “I plan to put several layers in; it’s gonna look great when I’m done with it.” 

I noticed Peeta was also adding some intricate details to the sign.  When I looked closer, I saw that they were all symbolic of us and our lives together, as with the mural.    

Once Peeta finished with the name and the designs, he went on to add some extra announcements:  

We Have Fresh Bread!

And Pastries!  

Gooey Cheese Buns, too!  

“Okay, don’t give it all away, Peeta,” I laughed at his exuberant display.  “They can come in and read the menu, you know.”  However, the menu was, likewise, so pretty that they might have a hard time getting past Peeta’s colorful doodles to actually read what we had to offer.  He’d even caricatured us.  

Artists, I goodnaturedly harumphed for the umpteenth time since I’d met my best friend.  I’d never understand them, but I couldn’t help but admire their talent.       

“I know, I know.”  Peeta chuckled as he waved me off.  

“Do your thing, Peeta,” I said dismissively, but I smiled as I walked away.  Secretly, I liked that he was the way he was, taking care in every little detail.   

I stopped and turned to look back at him, taking a moment to study the way he put so much attention and effort into his work.  He looked up, catching sight of me, and he smiled sweetly.  And a strange but not altogether unpleasant ripple rolled through my stomach. 

—–

Autumn was in the air the day we opened Everlark Coffee & Tea; I could smell it.  

The decision to open on September 11th was somewhat practical, in that it was the start of a busy season, and that was just when we happened to finish our work.  Besides that, Peeta and I both loved autumn.  The weather and temperature were nice; it was cozy, and personally, I preferred the clothes because I didn’t have to show as much skin, but I didn’t have to bundle myself up entirely, either.   

I was so excited and nervous the night before our opening that I could barely sleep.  I ended up crawling into bed with Peeta, and he welcomed me, of course.  It wasn’t the first time we’d shared a bed, even as adults.  We often did when the nightmares came, mine about my father’s death and his, strangely about losing me rather than his mother’s assaults. 

Peeta made me sleep in that morning while he went down to prep the bread, insisting that I needed the extra rest in order to be fresh for our customers.  I tried to refuse, but he tickled me into submission until I agreed.  Down below, I could hear Peeta’s noisy tread, but rather than keeping me up, it comforted me, and helped me fall into a deep slumber.  Miraculously, I caught a good power nap and was feeling much more alert by the time it came to open up the shop.   

When I headed down the spiral staircase, the unmistakable scent of Peeta’s freshly baked bread wafted up to greet me like an old friend.  The place smelled fantastic; it smelled like home.  Well, not the home of my childhood but a new kind of home, one I’d been dreaming of for a while if I was being honest, a home with Peeta.

Peeta didn’t hear me coming, but when he saw me, he came around the counter and rushed over, sweeping me off my feet in an instant and carrying me symbolically over the threshold of our new coffee and tea shop.  It should feel weird‒this was what married people did, right?‒but it didn’t.  It felt right being in his arms, and doing this together. 

I realized then that part two of my 21st birthday wish had come true.  

Peeta finally set me, and I followed him behind the counter.  

“Don’t forget your apron, sweetheart,” he reminded me.  My apron was green.  His was orange.  Our favorite colors.  But Peeta thought it would be cute to switch the first day, so we traded.    

I wrapped his larger apron around my waist, and he tied it tight for me, double-knotting it.  

Peeta came around from behind me and looked me up and down.  “You look cute in my apron,” he said, grinning from ear-to-ear.   

“I do not.  Don’t lie.”  

“But I’m so good at it,” he quipped, to which I smirked.  “And I’m not lying.  You look adorable.  So adorable I want to throw you over my shoulder and carry you off.” 

“Carry me off where?”  I tittered.   

Peeta’s face tinged pink, and his eyes darted away as he gave a little shrug.  “Dunno.  Just…somewhere.  Upstairs…” 

My cheeks warmed, but I kept a neutral expression.  “Yeah, well you can’t right now.  We have to open the doors.”  

Peeta’s eyes shot to mine, and he arched a brow.  “Later, then?” he asked hopefully, cinching my apron around his waist‒it barely fit, but somehow, it looked good on him.       

“Maybe.”  I nibbled my lower lip, fighting a smile; then I pointed at the door.  Peeta headed over, and I followed, patting my burning cheeks at the thought of him throwing me over his shoulder like a caveman as if I belonged to him and he was carrying me off to have his way with me. 

Ignoring my inappropriate thought and focusing on the matter at hand, I unlocked the double doors with Peeta, and we stood back.  We weren’t expecting a mad rush through the doors the second we opened, but we also weren’t expecting the first person to enter only minutes later.  

When our first customer‒a sweet old woman with long gray hair who muttered a lot‒walked in, Peeta immediately straightened up.  I greeted her first, then Peeta piped in, telling her all about our specials, which included pumpkin spice and chat tea lattes, rye bread, and gingersnap cookies.  

We did surprisingly well on our first day.  People seemed to like our products and responded to Peeta’s personality and to our story.  Peeta had actually written our story out and placed it in a frame on the wall.  When I read it, I was truly touched, so much so that I nearly cried.  Peeta had an incredible memory; it was as if he remembered every detail about me, and us.  And his poetic prose was so impressive that nearly every patron stopped to read the entire thing, and seemed nearly as affected as me by it.  

That first day, we kept busy and worked together well, amiably bumping into one another and offering hasty sorries with nervous chuckles.  We managed to get by the first couple of weeks by ourselves, but it became readily apparent that we were going to need some help, so we hired two more employees, Lavinia and Darius, who turned out to be excellent workers and good people.  

Everlark Coffee & Tea got all manner of customers.  We had our regulars: a quirky techie guy with glasses who was always immersed in his laptop at the corner table by the window, sometimes with an equally quirky female companion accompanying him; a snarky woman with cropped hair who didn’t have the best people skills but was a loyal customer; a fashion designer named Cinna and his partner, Portia; a pretentious but polite woman who always wore colorful, ornate, bordering on ridiculous outfits, among others…     

Haymitch even stopped in here and there as well as Peeta’s old roommate, Finnick, who of course had to tease Peeta about dumping him as roommate for someone not quite as hot.  At my scowl, Finnick laughed boisterously, said he was only kidding, and proceeded to take my hand and kiss it.  Peeta didn’t seem to like that one bit.  Not that I actually thought Peeta was worried, but he definitely didn’t need to be; Finnick Odair couldn’t possibly be interested in someone like me, and I most certainly wasn’t interested in him.  Later on, we met his girlfriend, Annie, anyway, who was perfectly lovely.  

Our coffee and tea shop’s profit margin was slim (practically nonexistent) the first couple of months, but Coin had told us to expect that; she’d said that most new businesses went under within the first 1-2 years, but we had the benefit of having few expenses and low overhead.  We managed, though, and I attributed that not so much to low overhead as to Peeta’s sunny disposition and incomparable baked goods.    

Winter rolled around, bringing with it tons of snow, but fortunately, we had all manner of toasty seasonal favorites to warm bellies and hearts.  Of course, my winter drink (and all-around hot drink) of choice was hot cocoa. Peeta added a little peppermint to my mug one day, and it was just chef’s kiss.  

Peeta thought some gimmicks would keep us afloat our first year, so we hired a singer by the name of Lucy Gray Baird to play guitar and sing folksy holiday songs one night a week, and Peeta baked holiday cookies and gave free ones out to the first 25 customers, just to get them hooked.  They couldn’t stop after that, naturally, and they told their friends, too.

We continued with more holiday specials and gimmicks into the new year.  For Valentine’s Day, Peeta baked all sorts of romantic goodies, such as hearts and arrow cupcakes and Cupid cookies, and Lucy serenaded the patrons with love ballads. 

—–

One day, I woke up clammy and burning up with a 102-degree fever.  Peeta was already standing over me, as I’d fallen asleep in his bed again, his hand on my forehead. 

“You’re burning up, Katniss.” 

“Am I?”

“Yes, you’re practically on fire.”

“You’re exaggerating,” I said, although I could feel it.  With a groan, I shoved his hand away and tried to get up. 

“No, lie down,” he commanded, clamping a hand on my shoulder and gently pushing me back.  

“But the shop…” 

“You’re too sick to work.  You don’t want to infect people and get the place shut down, do you?” 

“No, but…” 

“You just stay in bed.”  

“What about you?” 

Peeta thought a moment.  He considered working that day, but he was very concerned for me, so he left the place to Lavinia and Darius, and Lucy even ended up helping out.  Peeta checked in sporadically, but Lucy, little mother that she was, insisted that he stay upstairs with me.  And so he did.  

Despite my protests, Peeta remained by my side, caring for me throughout the day.  He was very attentive.  He brought me headache medicine and water, and when I got hungry, he brought me lamb stew (just the broth) and crackers.  He continuously re-dampened the cloth for my forehead and checked my temperature, and he even forced me into a lukewarm bath, turning away, of course, but remaining just outside the door in case I was so weak that I fell.  

Peeta always took care of me, in fact.  One time I fell off a ladder.  I landed on my feet like a cat, but not having the bone structure that cats do, I sprained my ankle and was laid up for several weeks.  Peeta never quite forgave himself for letting me fall, even though it wasn’t his fault, but he took excellent care of me during my recovery.

—–

Midway into Everlark Coffee & Tea’s second year,  Peeta and I decided to do an overhaul and try out some new products.  And that meant engaging in the tedious task of cleaning out the storage room.  One day, I decided to move some things out of storage and put them in our closets upstairs, so I set about making room for the items.  That’s when I came across a box of Peeta’s, a box simply labeled ‘Katniss.’

When curiosity got the better of me, I looked inside.  And what I found floored me.  The box was comprised completely of all our old mementos, just about everything I could imagine (and some things I couldn’t imagine) him keeping.  From old childhood books and toys to letters to a shriveled up dandelion crown he’d made for me, the flowers next to dust, though I knew precisely what it was…  

Then I found a yearbook from high school.  I thumbed through the pages, checking out all the signatures Peeta had gotten from friends and admirers and seeking out every picture I could find of Peeta‒there were a lot‒and of Peeta and me‒there weren’t many of those. 

Peeta came in and caught me looking through the box, of course.  He didn’t seem mad, though, simply leaned against the door frame resignedly.    

“High school, huh,” he remarked.  “That was when I was sure I’d lost you for good.” 

“What?” My lips parted in shock.   

“You started hanging out with Gale.” 

“So?” 

“I thought you two were dating.” 

“No.”  I shook my head vehemently.   

“Oh.”  He shrugged.  “I thought you were.” 

“I thought you were dating…well, a lot of girls.” 

“No, Katniss.  I never dated anyone.” 

“Wh-what?”  I stammered.  “B-But…why?”  He could have had so many adoring girlfriends.   

“Why?”  Peeta scoffed.  “You don’t know why?” 

Of course, I didn’t. 

I shook my head. 

Peeta sighed.  “Because I only ever wanted you, of course.” 

My mouth dropped open, and I stared dumbly at him.  

Peeta made his way over to me, settling down beside me on the floor.  “Back then,” he began after a moment, “I thought you didn’t care about me anymore.”

I glanced up at him from beneath my eyelashes.  “I thought you were too busy for me.  And better off without me, too.” 

“No, never.”  Peeta gave a sardonic little laugh.  “Huh.  Guess we were both idiots.”   

“Yeah,” I squeaked, staring down at my hands folded neatly in my lap.  

A couple of seconds later, I heard Peeta’s sharp intake of breath.  “Katniss…” 

I looked up at him tentatively, and he leaned in closer, his broad shoulder brushing mine.    

“I need to tell you something, and it’s about damn time I did.  Way overdue, really.” 

I felt my chest rise and fall heavily.  He couldn’t be going to say…no.  

“I’m in love with you.” 

He did; he said it.  Oh my god, it can’t be… 

Was part 3 of my wish really coming true?  

“I’ve always been in love with you,” he went on.  “I don’t know when it started exactly, but it doesn’t really matter because I can’t even remember a time I wasn’t.” 

That can’t be so, I wanted to argue, but I didn’t question him.  I was too stunned, touched, confused, grateful, happy, a lot of things… 

“Please say this doesn’t ruin anything between us,” he pleaded.  “I want to be with you, of course, but I don’t want to lose you as a friend, Katniss.  If that’s all you can be to me, my friend and business partner, I’m okay with it.”  

My head was spinning, and I didn’t quite know what to think.  I decided it best not to think at all, but simply to feel, so I switched off my brain.  

“I…I love you, too, Peeta,” I blurted out.  

Peeta let out a little gasp, and we both reached out for each other instinctively.  We shared our first kiss seated in that small bedroom above the coffee and tea shop, a kiss that turned into another. And another.  And before I knew it, I was wrapped around him, and he was lifting me. 

And when Peeta carried me off to his bed, more like our bed, and laid me down gently, covering my body with his, there was no stopping to think, no questioning.  We just knew it was what we’d both been wanting for so long now.  And I knew this would have happened anyway. 

—–

Fifteen years later, Peeta and I still own Everlark Coffee & Tea.  It’s still in business, and booming.  We’ve actually had to expand the building and hire more employees to accommodate.  And yes, we still live above it.  But now we live there with our two children, our dark-haired dancing girl with blue eyes and our blond, chubby-cheeked and legged toddler boy with gray eyes.

I look down at Peeta’s and my children sleeping soundly on each side of me, and I smile.  I lean down to kiss their blond and brown mops in turn, and then I slip out quietly.  Peeta had a long day at the shop, so I let him sleep‒it was my turn to read the bedtime story tonight, anyway.  He’s fast asleep when I crawl beneath the covers, but he instinctively coils around me, just like always.  The window is open‒Peeta likes to sleep with them open‒and contentedly, I breathe in the cool, crisp air.  It smells like fall.