#cotton pajamas Australia

[clothingflannel]

Get the best deals on bulk orders of flannel shirts from Flannel Clothing! Our wholesale flannel shirts are available in a variety of sizes, colors, and styles, perfect for any need.

[desi-firms]

"Exploring the Vibrant World of Desi Fashion in Australia: A Fusion of Tradition and Modernity"

Desi fashion in Australia is a unique blend of traditional Indian, Pakistani and other South Asian styles with the contemporary fashion trends of Australia. The Desi community in Australia is a diverse and vibrant one, and their fashion reflects this diversity.

One of the most popular traditional garments worn by Desi women in Australia is the saree. The saree is a long piece of cloth that is wrapped around the waist and draped over the shoulder, and is often paired with a blouse and a petticoat. Sarees come in a variety of fabrics, such as silk, cotton, and chiffon, and are adorned with beautiful embroidery, beadwork, and prints. They are a perfect choice for formal occasions such as weddings and religious ceremonies.

Another traditional Indian garment that is popular among Desi women in Australia is the salwar kameez. This outfit consists of a long tunic (kameez) worn over loose pants (salwar). Salwar kameez can be made from a variety of fabrics, and come in a range of styles and designs.

In recent years, there has been a rise in fusion wear among the Desi community in Australia. This has resulted in a range of new and exciting fashion trends such as Indo-Western fusion wear and Boho-chic styles. This type of fusion wear blends traditional Indian styles with contemporary Australian fashion, creating a unique and modern look.

Desi men in Australia also have a diverse range of fashion choices, from traditional kurta pajama, to western suits and everything in between.

Desi fashion in Australia is not just limited to clothing, it also includes a wide range of accessories such as jewelry, bags, and shoes. Desi jewelry, in particular, is known for its intricate designs and use of precious stones and metals.

In conclusion, Desi fashion in Australia is a reflection of the community's unique identity and cultural heritage, blending traditional styles with contemporary trends to create a unique and vibrant fashion scene. It is a representation of the cultural diversity and richness of the Desi community in Australia. At Desi Firms, we are committed to promoting and supporting Desi fashion businesses in Australia, as well as businesses from all industries and sectors within the Desi community. Our platform, DESI FIRMS, is the perfect solution for anyone of Indian, Pakistani, Bangladeshi, Sri Lankan, Nepali, or Afghani origin, or any other related ethnic groups, looking for unique Desi needs. You can search for businesses by categories, business names, products, services or any keywords related to your needs and the platform will provide you with relevant businesses in your area.

[pinkelephent54]

The Ultimate Guide to Womens Nightwear Sets

Women Pajamas Sets

Sleepwear sets for women have long been considered the go-to sleepwear option: they are comfortable, breathable and come in various lengths and fabrics that cater to every taste imaginable - from classic cotton nightgowns to wintry flannel PJs; these sets make an excellent way to achieve an elegant, romantic aesthetic when sleeping soundly. Thanks to responsible brands there's now even more choice.

As well as Lake's minimally designed striped styles and Eberjey's Gisele pajamas (which have quickly become cult favorites), Amazon reviewers love Maison Essentiele's silk 3-piece for its "softness" and "cuteness in a cool Gen Z way." This off-the-shoulder top and shorts pair features temperature regulation while naturally antimicrobial and odor fighting capabilities make this set ideal.

Hill House Home's organic cotton set will keep you comfortable from head to toe! It features a long-sleeve button-up notch collar top and matching drawstring pants with pockets in sizes S to XXL for optimal wear, as well as monogramable bottoms to complete your ensemble in style.

Bhumi offers this short-sleeve organic sateen set as another fantastic option for colder months, crafted with lower impact dyes and made of buttery-soft organic fabric that's both temperature regulating and odor fighting. Plus, its roomy oversized top makes this piece comfortable enough to wear as a robe or wear open as a shirtdress!

Heads-up! Here we've rounded up some of our favorite sustainable brands, like Papinelle--whose designs focus on providing ethically made clothing that makes you feel beautiful. These sets, ranging from floral pajama pants and nightgowns to soft waffle weave jerseys made of bamboo fibers are made in both the United States and Australia from natural fabrics like soft waffle weaves or bamboo-knit jerseys; featuring whimsical prints such as lilac gingham or palm tree bright coral hues!

TAMGA Designs' playful lounge set, constructed using lower-impact dyes and organic sateen fabric for a soft yet breathable fit, may cost $250 but is sure to remain an asset in your drawer for many years to come.

If your budget doesn't stretch to purchasing an elaborate polyester-spandex set, Amazon offers simple polyester-spandex sleepwear in 11 gorgeous hues that ranges from sizes S to XXL and will comfortably fit you year-round - customers love its comfortable fit, and how well it resembles its models' photos when worn by real people! Customers also rave about its timeless comfort; customers praise its comfortable fit for everyday comfort that just looks amazing when worn against themselves as it did their models in photos - guaranteeing year-round cozy experiences; just add slippers and robe for ultimate bedtime bliss!

[pyjamasaustraliaau]

Top Quality Matching Pyjamas | Pyjamas Australia

Matching Pyjamas from Pyjamas Australia will keep you warm and stylish. Ideal for couples, families, or even matching with your pet. These pajamas, made of soft and breathable cotton, will keep you looking lovely and feeling comfortable all night long. With Pyjamas Australia, you can sleep in style. To get in touch, send an email to info@pyjamasaustralia.com.au.

[babyraz62]

Baby Gift Hampers for Almost Any Occasion

There are several celebrations where Newborn Baby Gifts Australia might be well received, like a christening, a birthday, or a baby shower. These baskets may also be presented to expectant parents to make them feel loved and cared for.

These Gifts for newborn Australia feature a variety of useful and adorable goods, such as cuddly musical toys, cozy blankets, adorable caps, and cozy sleeping bags. Creels designed for toddlers can include things like diapers, wipes, a teething toy, a pacifier, and a set of pajamas.

Giving Baby Gifts Sydney that is as special as the infant it contains is easy with a customised baby hand basket.

Natural baby goods would be a great addition to these baskets. All-natural products including mild baby shampoo, lotion, soap, diaper powder, baby balm, fragrance-free moisturizer, organic teething bites, and natural essential oils for massage could be included. Many people enjoy stuffing baby gift baskets with 100% cotton clothing, natural fiber sponge bibs and booties, and other items for infants.

Also popular in Personalised Baby Gifts Australia are toys and teddies crafted from eco-friendly materials like natural fibres and recycled textiles. These hand baskets are commonly used to carry natural timber things. All parents-to-be would appreciate a wooden toy, baby brush, or comb. Other possibilities include CDs with nature sounds as well as lullaby music, organic baby foods, and non-toxic baby toys.

Expectant women are often the recipient of gifts and presents. Some examples of items that might be included in such a basket are a robe, skin care items, baby books, and vouchers for a spa.

Try to showcase your wares in the best light possible. You need to make sure the baskets are visually appealing as well. These baskets can be found in different materials, including wood and metal. Baby Gift Hampers Australia that are decorated with colored and satin ribbons leave a memorable impact on the parents-to-be.

There are a lot of reputable shops of New mum hamper Sydney where you can buy one of these specialized gift baskets for a newborn. You can either pick one from their selection or have one made just for the new baby. Many of these internet retailers will even fulfill special delivery requests.

An essential element of any parent's social life, both within and outside the home, is the giving and receiving of baby gifts through Newborn keepsake ideas. When it comes to giving presents, our baby gift basket is right up there with the best of them. Every parent wants to shower their child with as many presents as possible, but some have financial constraints. Since we have kept our prices low, you can shop with us for online baby presents. There are several of places online to get wholesale baby presents.

So, when are you thinking of throwing a baby shower? Always go for the most visually appealing baby gift box, whether you are buying it for yourself, a relative, or a friend. Wait, pick the greatest one; do not just pick one at random. You can stop stressing and start having fun, because everything is taken care of.

[paulisded]

The Ledge #571: New Releases

The first Friday of June means we have nothing but new releases on The Ledge, and it's quite the lineup tonight. There are artists from all over the world, ranging from just a mile or so from my home (Thought Patrol) to Germany (Hamburg Ramones, Berlin Blackouts), with additional stops in Italy, Norway, Canada, Australia, New Zealand and other countries). There's the return of a ton of veteran artists, including Rancid, Graham Parker, The Aquadolls, and Joan Jett. 

Most importantly, at least for me, is the brand new project by Tommy Stinson. Over the last few years he's been touring with his pal Chip Roberts under the Cowboys in the Campfire moniker, and today sees the release of their debut album, Wronger. While a bit quieter than we're used to from the former Replacements bass player, it's still quite a record from the hardest working member of the legendary band. 

Of course, we begin with the latest in the "52 Weeks of Teenage Kicks" series, and this time it is nt a new release. This version is from the French band Nouvelle Vague, an act that was created to remake classic punk and new wave songs in bossa nova versions. Yes, it's a little bit of a departure from the normal covers of the song you've heard over the last five months, but it is definitely worthy of includsion.

And like always, I must again plead with y'all for more versions of "Teenage Kicks". If you are a musician, or have any contact with artists that could record their own take on the classic, please contact me!

CLICK HERE TO DOWNLOAD THE SHOW!

1. Nouvelle Vague - Teenage Kicks

2. Cowboys In The Campfire - Here We Go Again

3. Cowboys In The Campfire - That's It

4. SUPER 8 - I Will Dare

5. Graham Parker - Them Bugs

6. Thought Patrol - Sky Poison

7. OSEES - STUNNER

8. Protomartyr - For Tomorrow

9. The Murlocs - Initiative

10. Bully - All I Do

11. Joan Jett & The Blackhearts - If You're Blue

12. Josie Cotton - The Ballad of Elvis Presley (feat. Kevin Preston)

13. Shangri-Lass - Parallel

14. Molly Martin - I Like Losers

15. Hard-Ons - Goin' It Alone

16. Rancid - Tomorrow Never Comes

17. Graham Day And The Gaolers - Mystery Man

18. The Barnestormers - Real Wild Child

19. Pere Ubu - Crazy Horses

20. Lone Wolf - Ready To Break

21. Guardian Singles - Pit Viper

22. The Green Pajamas - Six Minutes in Heaven

23. The Reverberations - Dr Please

24. The High Water Marks - I Could Never Be a Vigilante

25. The Aquadolls - Burn Baby Burn

26. Morgan and the Organ Donors - Freeze the Time

27. The Get Arounds - Black And White

28. The Sensibles - Ice Cream Man

29. Suzi Moon & Billy Hopeless - Communicado

30. The Mums - Rebel Girl

31. The Telepathic Butterflies - Right Through It All

32. The Anderson Council - Alone With You

33. The Jack Cades - Tommy

34. Hamburg Ramones - Punk Rock Radio

35. Berlin Blackouts - Useless Money People

36. The Projectors - You Can Only Wait

37. Les Lullies - Pas De Regrets

[siatexsblog]

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[fahadkhan20]

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The most common garment in the world is the t-shirt. A t-shirt for school children is the most popular. Promoting your brand or business with custom t-shirts is extremely popular and effective. We offer T-shirts in Sandy Springs, Local Hoodie Manufacturer, Apparel Companies, Hooded Boys Wear Supplier in Bangladesh, Emirates Apparel, Pajamas Factory Bangladesh, Screen-printed T-shirts Wholesale Supplier Israel, Black And White Tie Dye Shirt Manufacturers, Stripped Polo Shirt Jordan , Promotional T-shirts Wholesale Supplier Saudi Arabia, Spandex Muscle Shirts, Children T-shirts Wholesale Supplier Italy, Bangladesh Clothing, Washed T-shirts Wholesale Supplier Iceland Croatia , Italian Private Label Clothing Manufacturers, Wholesale Clothing New York Garment District, Portugal Shirt Manufacturers, Qatar Soccer Jersey, Boys Tracksuit Exporter in Bangladesh, Cotton T-shirts Wholesale Supplier Australia, Unbranded Clothing Wholesale, Branded Clothes Wholesale In Dubai, top Wholesale Clothing Vendors in USA, Washed T-Shirts Wholesale Supplier Estonia. Location:House # 8, Road # 6, 5th Floor Niketon, Gulshan-1, Dhaka - 1212 For any questions, please contact us : (+880-2) 222-285-548 (Office) Email:sales@siatex.com

[cachiashop61]

Buy Nightwear Collection Made of Cotton Fabric in Australia

Today’s fashion industry is upsurging. We are dedicating this article to an important part of this industry, which is the collection of sleepwear or nightwear. We can explore the myriad of options for nightwear. The umpteen options are on the basis of colours, styles, graphics and also in fabrics. One of the most common and most used fabrics is cotton. Being one of the oldest and simple fabrics, cotton is the best choice! Let us explore a few perks of cotton sleepwear in Australia.

Comfortable Fabric

First of all, it is a comfort that is kept on priority when we talk about nightwear or sleepwear. So, the cotton fabric is one of the most organic fabrics that makes a perfect outfit to be worn during lazy days and good sleep nights. Cotton womens sleepwear Australia never clings on to the skin or causes any irritations. Also, this fabric holds the characteristic of being very strong and with low chances of tearing off. Also, it ages at a slow rate.

Affordable, Cost-friendly Nightwear

Little did you know, the process of threading a cotton fabric is simpler and more cost-friendly. Unlike other materials like silk and linen, cotton is affordable and budget-friendly.

Cotton nightwear can be made fancy

Yes! A lot of people think that cotton nightwear or cotton pyjamas in Australia do not look presentable! Well, gone are the days when cotton nightwear used to be in a solid pattern and with no design or little prints. Now, cotton nightwear can also be made fancy in umpteen ways like graphics and splash of colours. A wide range of such outfits (for goodnight sleep) can be explored.

If you are looking forward to exploring the range of nightwear clothing like comfy PJs in Australia, sleepwear sets or family sets, you can find recognised online stores. You can check the wide collection online and can place an order from home.

Original Source: https://bit.ly/3yW4PR2

[clothingflannel]

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[softlystarstruck]

drape me in your warmth

written for the @drarrymicrofic prompt "bite" but i love this song so much it got a bit out of hand | 3.1k, M, warnings for disassociation, anxiety, mentioned minor character suicide | a bouquet of thank you's to my beta @avenueofesc ♡ | read on AO3

The first time they talk, snow is falling outside of the small Eighth Year common room, and Harry hasn’t been to class in three days.

“Potter,” Malfoy says, in that soft way he has nowadays, like he’s afraid to commit to his words. The clock over the large fireplace ticks towards three a.m. slowly, or maybe too quick; time has been warping around Harry and he doesn’t try to keep up anymore. Standing on the plush rug in a cotton t-shirt and striped pajama bottoms, Malfoy looks impossibly young, like he’s been suddenly snapped from another universe where his father didn’t kill himself before the war trials and his mother still has her sanity. Not that Malfoy talks to Harry about this, even with only six Eighth Years back at Hogwarts– three Ravenclaws, one Hufflepuff, Malfoy and Harry. The reasons the others returned doesn’t matter much to Harry, not when they all retreat to their own rooms, their own friend groups; not when they don’t bother talking to Harry.

Yet Malfoy.

Malfoy is a question mark.

Harry himself returned so he won’t have to accept a position as an Auror trainee. He doesn’t want it. Thinking back to the letter alone is enough to make him curl into himself with panic, but he didn’t have a reason to turn them down– not until the letter penned in McGonagall’s graceful script arrived. He cried, then, for the first time since May. Hermione had been relieved, so relieved, and Harry had nearly snapped if you’re so worried about me then don’t leave. Yet the words sat heavy and unsaid on his tongue, even as he was at the International Portkey station waving goodbye to her and Ron, even as they were swept up to Australia, leaving behind nothing more than empty air.

“Potter,” Malfoy repeats, and Harry jolts back to the present, to the soft weave of the couch fabric underneath his hands. “Hullo.”

Harry blinks. He’s mostly been managing to go to class, though sometimes he wakes up feeling scraped raw and he loses days to bed– but it’s alright. He’s alright. Malfoy is always in class, sitting ramrod straight with his hair over his eyes, never speaking to anyone but the professors.

“I brought you notes,” Malfoy says, and Harry belatedly registers the parchment held in Malfoy’s hand. “For Herbology.” Malfoy’s hands are trembling and Harry can’t make himself look away; it’s the clearest thing he’s seen through the fog that's permanently taken up residence in his mind. Pale, pale hands, trembling.

“I can just…” Malfoy thrusts the parchment out. “Here.”

“It’s three in the morning,” Harry says, finally looking back up to Malfoy’s face. He’s turned away, looking at a point on the floor, the firelight flickering over his cheek.

“I couldn’t sleep. And I know sometimes you stay down here late.”

For a few moments Harry just watches Malfoy– watches his hands tremble, watches the way the blood red lines of the Mark jump in the firelight.

“You always wear long sleeves.”

At Harry’s words, Malfoy snatches his hand back, pressing his left forearm to his stomach so hard he huffs out a small breath. “Sorry, s-sorry,” he stutters, face dropping into something between panic and horror, and Harry stands up on instinct. The parchment in Malfoy’s hand crumples and Harry reaches out as Malfoy crumples, too. His bony knees hit the carpet with a thud even as Harry clings to Malfoy’s shoulders, so Harry goes down with him.

“Hey, I didn’t mean anything by that. I don’t care, I was just caught off guard,” Harry mumbles into Malfoy’s shirt, trying to remember how to fucking breathe when Malfoy is so close and so warm and so real.

Has Malfoy always been this warm?

Has Malfoy always been this scared?

“Hey, hey,” Harry murmurs, his own body shaking with the force of Malfoy’s. “Hey. You’re alright now.”

“No,” Malfoy whispers, sounding as though he’s been punched in the sternum, and Harry holds him tighter, trying to keep Malfoy together under his hands. “No, I’m really not.”

“Okay. Yeah. Me neither. But you can breathe for me, yeah?” Harry rubs a hand between Malfoy’s shoulder blades in soft circles, unsure how to comfort someone– how to comfort Malfoy. “You can breathe. In with me now.”

Harry breathes, Malfoy breathes. Shaky but alive.

Has Malfoy always been this warm?

“I crushed your notes,” Malfoy says quietly, after an indeterminate amount of trembling and stuttering breath. “I’m sorry.”

“That doesn’t– Malfoy. That doesn’t matter.” Harry’s nose is still pressed to Malfoy’s neck, his arms around Malfoy’s fragile shoulders, and when did Malfoy get so thin?

“I just wanted to make sure you had them.”

“Why?” Harry starts to pull away but Malfoy fists a hand in Harry’s jumper and clings, making a terrified noise in the back of his throat, so Harry stays. “Why did you get me notes? We don’t talk.”

“You... spoke for me at the trials.”

Oh. “So you feel like you owe me?”

“No. When you don’t come to class, that means your fogginess is worse, but you do try to pay attention when you’re there. It must be hard to keep up.”

Harry does pull back now, looking into Malfoy’s wide eyes. “What– what? How do you know about that?”

Glancing down at the floor, Malfoy shrugs. “I look at you. Anyone who knows you could see it.”

“But–” how do you know what I call it, Harry wants to ask. How do you still see me when the boundaries of my body are blurring?

“I should go up to bed.” Malfoy presses the crumpled notes into Harry’s hand, every line of his body apologetic.

“Wait,” Harry blurts, startling Malfoy. “Do you… do you feel the same way? That fogginess, like– like you can’t feel anything at all?”

“Oh, Potter,” Malfoy whispers with a sadness that pierces straight through Harry’s heart. “No. I feel everything.”

He’s gone before Harry can respond. Harry spends another hour gazing into the fireplace, and forces himself to go to class the next morning.

~

Every night, after midnight, they sit side by side on the same couch. It’s not something they agreed upon, or even talk about; one of them comes down and waits for the other. During the day they don’t interact, though it doesn’t make a difference since they both rarely talk to anyone else.

At first, Draco– because it’s Draco, now– doesn’t speak at all even in the dark, so Harry does, his mind clearer when Draco’s warm shoulder is pressed to his. He talks about his invitation to Auror training, the disconnect he felt from Ron and Hermione even before they left, the way time has started jumping in a way that means he’ll be at breakfast, blink, then be sitting in an afternoon class. He talks haltingly about nightmares and Horcruxes; that’s the first time Draco reaches for him, holding Harry’s hand in his trembling one. In this space between dawn and dusk Harry doesn’t ask Draco questions, giving himself up instead, but eventually he slips.

“Why do your hands shake?” Harry asks. The winter holidays are nearing and the common room is chilly, but Harry’s palm is flat and warm against Draco’s. Right now, he doesn’t feel foggy at all, his thoughts clear as he traces the line of Draco’s jaw with his eyes.

“From overexposure to Crucio, I think.”

“Oh,” Harry replies. “I’m sorry I asked.”

“It’s alright. I want you…” Draco swallows hard. “I want you to see me, too.”

“Alright,” Harry says, and after that Draco talks about himself, his own nightmares and memories and fears, how he came back to Hogwarts because he doesn’t have anything left.

It isn’t until the second day of the winter holidays that Harry understands what's happening.

~

“Hullo.”

The morning light is weak through the common room windows and Draco looks hesitant, paper thin. His hair is mussed from sleep and he blinks owlishly and suddenly Harry is in freefall, his stomach swooping as he just knows.

“H-hi.”

“I think that we are officially friends,” Draco says tentatively, twisting his hands together. “Since you know more about me than anyone. So I was thinking– hoping– we could, ah. Hang out. In the daytime too.”

“Yeah,” Harry replies, unable to stop reeling over Draco’s jaw and collarbone and unsteady fingers and beautiful beautiful eyes.

“You don’t sound very sure.” Draco is already drawing into himself, making himself smaller as he tries to move back towards the stairs up to their rooms, and Harry leaps to his feet in panic.

“No! I am. Draco, I’m sure. I’m sure. Come to breakfast with me?”

Draco’s shoulders relax as he nods. “Alright.”

~

“Muggles did not land on the moon,” Draco states, staring at Harry. They’ve been in the common room all evening, but with the other Eighth Years gone for the holiday there’s no one around to be bothered by their conversation. “They did not.”

“They did!”

“No.” Vigorously, Draco shakes his head. “I don’t believe you.”

“I’ll take you to a museum. There’ll be pictures.”

“Hmmm.” Draco leans his head against Harry’s shoulder, and Harry forgets to breathe. As easy silence falls between them, Harry imagines holding Draco’s hand all the time, the way they do before the sun comes up. He imagines talking to Draco every night, tucked up in the same bed, covers pulled up to their chin.

“Would you like to stay in my room tonight?” Harry blurts, his mouth moving before he can consult his brain, and Draco makes a choked sound beside him.

“Uh–”

“Just, I know neither of us sleep much, but we should try, but then we could still talk, and it can get cold in those rooms, so–”

“Harry. Yes. Let me change into pajamas and I’ll… meet you there?”

“Yeah.” Harry swallows his panic. “Yeah, okay.”

~

They last barely two minutes under the covers before Draco’s hands are on Harry’s face and Harry is desperately gasping can I– can I please to which Draco frantically nods and then they’re kissing, kissing, kissing.

Draco’s mouth is hot and Harry’s heart is ablaze.

Impossible, his mind is telling him as Draco gasps and arches off the bed against Harry’s chest. This is impossible.

“Harry,” Draco moans, and Harry decides reason has no place here. He digs his fingers into Draco’s hip and presses Draco’s body down, holding on so tight he distantly wonders if Draco will bruise. “Harry, Harry,” Draco pants, his fingertips ghosting across Harry’s back in a way that makes Harry squirm. He pushes himself up but Draco’s hands stay light, easy, and Harry growls in frustration before biting down hard on Draco’s bottom lip. Jolting up so hard he knocks his hips up into Harry’s, Draco whines high and long, and after a moment Harry feels wetness creeping up the fabric of his pajama pants.

“Draco, fuck, did you–”

“Shut up,” Draco whispers, sounding like he’s about to cry, or maybe he already is, so Harry presses his mouth down firmly to Draco’s shoulder and tightens his hold. Underneath the covers everything is too hot and smells like sex and Draco is trembling violently, but he pets his hands through Harry’s curls softly and murmurs something Harry can’t understand.

“Hm?”

“Sorry,” Draco whispers, and Harry bumps his nose against Draco’s neck.

“For what?”

“For– for– you know.”

“Was it good?”

“Y-yeah.”

Pressing one last kiss to Draco’s neck, Harry pulls away to grab his wand and clean them up. He sets it back down on the bedside table and pulls the covers up to their shoulders.

“Do you want…” Draco starts, then trails his fingers lightly down Harry’s stomach. Heat flushes through Harry’s thighs as he tries his best not to buck up against Draco’s hand.

“Only if you want to.”

“Yes,” Draco replies softly, and his hand wraps around Harry much too loose but it feels good anyway and too soon Harry is gasping as he streaks come across his own stomach. Draco watches with wide eyes and slightly parted lips until Harry brings his hands up behind Draco’s ears, pulling their foreheads together.

“What is this?” Harry asks, letting Draco make the choice because Harry wants everything all at once and he’s afraid it’s too much.

“I– I,” Draco fumbles, pulling away to look at Harry, panicked. “I want– what do you want?”

“All of it. You,” Harry says, and Draco smiles so brightly Harry wants to cry.

~

The winter holidays trip by in a haze of kissing and frotting and waking up with Draco in his arms, and Harry doesn’t think he’s ever been this happy. The slow-creeping fog that has spent months clinging to his mind is present, but only just, since he can count the faint freckles scattered across Draco’s cheeks and remind himself this is real. Only once does Harry wake up screaming against Draco’s chest, but Draco spends a long hour talking him down and pressing kisses to Harry’s cheek, and Harry falls back asleep with the pervasive feeling of home. Draco’s nightmares come quieter, more insidious, leaving him whimpering and jerking until Harry drapes his body warm over Draco’s.

Kissing still sets Harry on fire, and he thinks he may never stop burning; he doesn’t ever want to stop, even when Draco touches Harry so lightly he could scream. He finds out that his hands fit perfectly around the soft skin of Draco’s hips and that kissing behind Draco’s ear drags out a high, delicate whine.

“Draco,” Harry says now, flat on his back with Draco perched on his hips. He’s a vision, his bright hair mussed, wearing only pants and a Gryffindor jumper of Harry’s. “You can put your whole weight on me. You’re lighter than air, anyways.”

“I– I know,” Draco replies, but he still holds himself just above Harry. Neither of them have much experience with sex, but Draco remains timid, nearly disbelieving, every time they reach for each other.

“Draco, I’m serious.”

“I…” Draco shifts, looking away from Harry’s face, but he finally rests his full weight on Harry’s hips. “What do you want?”

“Touch me.” Just looking at Draco makes Harry feel like his skin is too small for his body, like his edges are blurring out. Harry wants to be contained, to be pressed back together under Draco’s hands. “Please?”

Fingertips light and faintly shaking, Draco traces a line up Harry’s bare chest, stopping at the hollow of his throat before moving back down. Harry wiggles underneath Draco’s thighs, trying to press up harder against Draco’s touch, but uncertainty flickers over Draco’s face and he pulls his hand away. Quicker than he means to, Harry reaches his own hand out, grabbing Draco hard around the wrist.

“What?” Draco asks. “What’s wrong?”

“Stop touching me like I’m breakable,” Harry snaps, then instantly regrets his tone. Draco’s eyes go wide for a moment before his mouth twists.

“Then stop touching me like I’m not,” Draco replies, sharper than he’s been in a very long time, and Harry’s mouth drops open.

“Oh. Oh.” Harry slowly releases his grip on Draco’s wrist and sits up, bringing his arms around Draco until they’re chest to chest. “Oh.”

“What?” Draco breathes. “Harry, what?”

“You want me to be gentle.”

“I… yes.” With a shiver, Draco presses his lips down to Harry’s shoulder, feather light. Harry shies away until Draco kisses him more firmly, raking his teeth along Harry’s skin.

“Ah,” Harry pants, and Draco raises his head to meet Harry’s eyes.

“You want…” Draco trails off as he winds his hands into Harry’s hair and tugs, not enough to hurt but enough to snap Harry’s mind fully into his body, everything suddenly going bright. “You don’t want me to be gentle?”

“It’s hard to remember where my body is,” Harry replies, which isn’t really an answer at all, but Draco twists so he’s lying on his back underneath Harry. His fingers press hard against Harry’s ribs and Harry nods frantically, his breath coming rough and quick.

“Harry,” Draco says. “Kiss me?”

Harry lowers himself down until their noses bump, Draco’s face blurred in Harry’s vision. His arms are burning slightly with the effort to not put his weight onto Draco, but there are fingers digging forcefully into his hips and he feels inexplicably adored.

“Harry–”

“Yes, love.”

Draco’s breath catches. “Kiss me. Kiss me, kiss me,” he murmurs against Harry’s lips. “Softly. Please… don’t bite.”

“Okay,” Harry replies, barely a whisper. He kisses Draco like he’s spun glass, like he’s fairy floss, like he could dissolve in Harry’s hands. Draco’s fingers move up to wrap firmly around Harry’s shoulders. Reality tightens to the point of contact between Harry’s mouth and Draco’s plush bottom lip, between Harry’s goose-fleshed skin and Draco’s long fingers, and Harry didn’t know being with Draco could get better but they fit perfectly now, their rough edges overlapping.

~

Something presses warm against Harry’s cheek and he blinks, slowly dragging himself into consciousness. Golden light filters through his window and spills bright across Draco’s arm where it’s out of the covers and thrown across Harry’s stomach. Draco’s forehead is pressed warm against Harry’s cheek and he makes a tiny snuffling noise in his sleep that instantly melts Harry’s entire being. Closing his eyes, he falls back into half-dreams until Draco shifts beside him, grumbling softly in a way that’s become intimately familiar.

“Love,” Harry murmurs, his voice scratchy with sleep. “Good morning.”

“Mmmmmm.”

“I see,” Harry says with exaggerated seriousness. “You make a very good point.”

“Mmmm,” Draco repeats, somehow managing to sound exasperated, and Harry laughs.

“It’s our last day to eat breakfast together. Everyone’s coming back today.”

“Oh.” Rolling away from Harry, Draco smushes his face down into the pillow then peers up at Harry with a bleary eye. “I guess.”

“I mean…” Harry trails off, looking up at the ceiling. “We could just keep doing that.”

“Eating breakfast together?”

“Yeah.”

Draco hums, and Harry turns to look at him. “People will probably… know,” Draco says, reaching his hand up to the side of Harry’s neck and resting it there, lightly until Harry scrunches his nose. Smiling softly, Draco presses down harder, a solid warmth, and Harry realizes Draco’s hands tremble less the tighter he holds onto Harry.

“I mean… I want them to know. Unless you don’t. I just… I like you,” Harry murmurs, ghosting his finger around the shell of Draco’s ear until Draco eyes flutter closed. Softly, softly, Harry reminds himself. Gentle. “I like you very much.”

“It isn’t going to be easy.” Draco moves closer to Harry, kissing the point of Harry’s chin. “People will think you’ve sullied yourself.”

With a snort, Harry tilts his head down, pressing a delicate kiss to Draco’s top lip. “That’s just ‘cause they don’t know how sweet you are.”

“Hmm.”

“It’ll be alright,” Harry says, trailing his fingers along the line of Draco’s shoulder, marveling at how Draco’s breath stutters. Has Draco always been this lovely? Surely, yes. He’s so impossibly lovely. “We’re going to make it alright.”

Read on AO3

[mother-shipper]

Save Me (I Can’t Face This Life Alone)

Harringrove for Australia piece for @buildyourwalls. I definitely went over 2k and I can’t tell you how many times I completely overhauled this but it’s here! 

Steve had never expected an apology from Billy Hargrove of all people. He expected to end up getting along with the guy even less. Billy was okay when he wanted to be, when he wasn't fixated on usurping a throne Steve no longer wanted anyway. They had things in common. Billy was good at conversation and while he still busted Steve's balls, it didn't have the same bite to it as before. 

Surprisingly enough, it had seemed for a moment that Steve Harrington and Billy Hargrove might actually be… friends. But then it happened.

Prom.

Steve and Billy had both decided to go stag. Steve didn’t have anyone he liked enough to ask. Billy said there were too many options to limit himself to one bitch for the whole night. And if neither of them had a date, they may as well pregame at Steve’s before heading over to the school gym. Steve had readily agreed and Billy showed up in his powder blue tux with a little something tucked in the inner pocket. 

“To get me through Cyndi Lauper,” he told Steve, rolling his eyes.

Looking back, Steve wasn’t sure how he missed it. They rolled up together in Billy’s Camaro. Every dance request Billy got was shut down in favor of sitting at the table people-watching with Steve. Then Billy had flashed the bag tucked in the inner pocket of his jacket and nodded to the back door. Steve had followed without a thought. They were friends. They were just going out back for a smoke like he and Tommy used to do all the time. 

They passed the joint back and forth, talking about the night, the people, the music. He hadn’t noticed Billy shifting closer, hadn’t picked up on the look in his eyes. One second Steve was laughing about Tammy Thompson’s choice of cowgirl boots and the next, Billy’s mouth was on his. 

He remembered how warm and soft Billy’s lips were. There was a spark of heat low in his gut and his mind went blank before everything seemed to explode. Billy was kissing him. Billy was kissing him! And he was enjoying it. It was a lot  to process and before he could orient himself, Billy was pulling away. The look in his eyes was pure panic. The easy, relaxed confidence was replaced with wide eyes and rigid posture. He looked ready to bolt. 

"Billy…," Steve tried. "Hey-" 

A hard shove to the chest put Steve's back against the wall, the brick biting into his skin through his shirt. He grabbed onto Billy's wrists and winced but Billy took a quick step back. Recoiled from Steve as if he'd been burned.

"Just… Just stay away from me," Billy snapped. He spun on his heel and was gone, heading for the parking lot at a clip and leaving Steve leaning against the wall, dumbfounded. Before long, he heard the roar of the Camaro. There were squealing tires, a flash of headlights and then Billy was gone. Steve was left leaning against the brick wall, staring after him and wondering what the actual fuck had just happened. 

He tried to get Billy's attention at school, tried to talk to him and sort this whole thing out but Billy never gave him the chance. He thought of calling before realizing he didn't have Billy's number. He didn't even know where he lived. Billy always came to him. …Maybe they weren't as good of friends as Steve thought. But Billy didn't give Steve the chance to make that right either.

He never got to talk to Billy before summer came. 

Scoops Ahoy was not the job Steve had hoped for. It wasn't hard work but it was draining in its own ways, not the least of which was the toll it took on his self esteem. Most nights, Steve would only have enough left in him to shower, maybe eat something, then crash face first into his mattress. He hasn't been able to even talk to the kids, let alone attempt to make time to visit Billy at the public pool. Even if he did, he didn't think it would help. Not at this point.

He was out of the loop, oblivious to the goings on that had been noticed by the kids. Then he was knee deep in an entirely different loop with Russians and secret codes. It wasn't until this Venn diagram of disaster met in the middle that Steve realized just what had happened to Billy.

  How he was still alive, no one could say. Steve believed it was sheer stubbornness. If anyone could live out of spite, it was Billy Hargrove. Knowing what he did now about Billy’s daily life, he could safely say he would have given up long ago. Billy was strong. Stronger than he thought even Billy realized. But this? Being a part of the darkness that lurked beneath Hawkins was too much for any one person to carry alone. He would know. 

Steve needed to be there for Billy. He needed to make up for not being there sooner and to see him awake and breathing. Because all he could see when he laid his head down at night was vacant, blue eyes, black blood soaking white cotton, soaking his hands. So much blood. Another nightmare added to the silver screen of his mind.

Steve knew you were supposed to bring something when you visit someone in the hospital. Flowers didn’t seem like Billy’s style. Neither did any of the stuffed animals lining the shelves of the gift shop. He searched through cards but they all seemed so formal. It didn’t feel like he was giving Billy something sincere. He put back a card, his nose wrinkling at the picture of a cat dangling from a tree branch that just said “Hang in There”. None of this seemed like anything Billy would like but he couldn’t show up empty handed. He wouldn’t. 

Steve was giving serious consideration to leaving and coming back when he had something good to offer when he saw it. 

It was tiny, maybe only about the size of a golf ball, sitting in its little terracotta pot. The green, waxy exterior was barely visible through the army of white needles jutting from it. The spines poked out in all directions leaving nowhere to touch it without getting bloodied in return. In contrast to the sharp barrier, at the very top there sat a tiny, pink blossom. Steve knew this was perfect.

Scooping the pot gently into his hands, Steve went up to the counter and happily paid for the angriest little plant he’d ever seen in his life. He was going to see Billy and they were going to talk. About everything. About that night at prom. How sorry Steve was. How much he wished he had been there for Billy when he needed someone, anyone, to recognize that he wasn't in control. That he wasn't himself. 

Steve went to the nurse's station, cradling the tiny cactus in his palms. A kind if tired looking woman glanced up at Steve from a clipboard, her brown hair tied up in a bun and lips painted red.

"Can I help you?"

"Hi. I'm looking for Billy Hargrove's room?"

The nurse nodded, sifting through paperwork before pulling out what must be Billy's chart. She flipped a page, looking at something that made her brow furrow. 

"I'm sorry. I didn't catch your name," the nurse said, voice suddenly cold as she looked Steve over. 

"Oh," Steve said, caught off guard by the rapid shift in tone. "It's Steve? Steve Harrington?"

Her lips pursed and she slid the file back onto the shelf, eyes on Steve's. "I'm sorry. He's not accepting visitors right now."

Steve's chest ached as he realized what was happening. There was a list. And Steve was on it. He wasn't going to get to see Billy. He felt like he'd been punched in the gut and he wanted to break down and cry right there. Instead, he swallowed, took a deep breath.

"I understand," he said softly. He stared down at the cactus, at it's tiny, pink flower. "If it's not too much trouble, could you just give him this?" Steve set the pot onto the counter. "I still want him to have it. And… if you could... tell him I'm sorry." 

When Steve looked up again, the nurse was watching him curiously. She still seemed wary of him but there was less hostility. Instead, she seemed like she just couldn't figure him out. Steve offered her a smile he didn't really feel and nodded once before turning to leave. Billy didn't want to see him and Steve couldn't blame him.

---------------------

“You have to fix this.”

Steve looked down at Max, eyebrow raised in confusion. He’d opened the door, expecting to find Dustin standing there, trying to get Steve to leave his house again. He didn’t have nearly as many hours at the video store as he did at Scoops so Steve found himself with a lot more downtime these days. To say he hadn’t been using it wisely was an understatement.

“Nice to see you too, Max,” he grumbled, stepping aside for her to come in. She stepped inside and her nose wrinkled instantly at the sight of the place. There were empty pizza boxes and takeout containers scattered everywhere. Steve was still in his pajamas, third day in a row and he hadn’t thought to change them. Not like he was expecting company. 

“Boys,” she sighed before turning to Steve. “You have to talk to Billy.”

Steve snorted, walking past Max and into the kitchen. “Wow. Great idea. If only I’d thought of it sooner. Problem solved.” 

“Don’t be stupid, Steve,” Max huffed, stuffing her hands into her jacket pockets. It was something so distinctly Billy it made Steve ache. “You know you want to see him. And he wants to see you.”

“Right.” Steve pulled open the fridge, digging inside for an excuse not to look at her. “That’s why he put me on the ‘keep out’ list at the hospital. I tried, Max. I’ve been trying since school but he wants nothing to do with me.”

“He does so!” Max shouted. “He’s just being dumb! And so are you!”

“Max-”

“No! Don’t give me that ‘you don’t understand’ crap. He’s miserable, Steve.” Max gestured around the messy house. “You’re miserable. And there’s no reason for any of it.”

Steve paused, straightening and looking over his shoulder at her. Max looked near tears, her hands balled into fists at her sides. She was angry and worried and...scared. She was scared. Steve took a deep breath and sighed, rubbing his eyes tiredly. 

“All I can do is try, Max,” he told her softly. “I can’t promise anything but I can give it one more try.”

Max broke. Her face crumpled and she threw herself at Steve, arms wrapped around his middle. She buried her face in Steve’s chest and sniffled. He hugged her back, wrapping her up tight against him and resting his chin on her head.

---------------------------------------

The house wasn’t a big one. The little one-level, ranch-style place was tucked back near the lake not far from Hop’s old trailer. If it weren’t for the Camaro on blocks out front, Steve would have wondered if he had the right place. Steve felt like he couldn’t breathe. Billy was in there. This was the closest Steve had been to him since that night outside the gym. It made his heart hurt and longing filled his chest. Steve gripped the handle of the sixpack in his hand. This was stupid. He was just going to get his heart broken once and for all. But he promised Max he would try. 

Taking a deep breath, Steve knocked  on the door and waited. He could hear movement inside, heavy steps coming toward the door. The knob turned and Steve felt a sudden panic grip him. The door flew open and Billy stood there, hand on his hip. 

“I told you, old man. I’m not going so you can just…” Billy froze. His blue eyes went wide and he stared at Steve in horror.

Steve glanced over Billy. The scars. God, the scars. There were huge starbursts all over Billy’s torso from where the mind flayer had hooked into him. Smaller spots littered his arms, one sitting just below his eye. The worst was right in the center of his chest. It was an angry, red, gnarled looking thing. Suddenly all Steve could see was blood. It was dark. There was a monstrous scream ripping through the air. White cotton soaked in black. Empty eyes. Heart pounding. Dead. Right in front of him. Gone. 

“Harrington!”

Steve dropped the sixpack, snapping back to the present only to realize his whole body was trembling. His face was wet and he met Billy’s eyes. They were bright and sharp, concerned. They were alive.

“You’re here.” Steve choked on a sob. He couldn’t stop himself from moving in closer. He looped his arms carefully around Billy’s waist and buried his face in his shoulder. “I,” he gasped, “I thought- you-” Any coherent words dissolved into desperate bawling. 

Billy’s arms curled around his shoulders, hesitant and uncertain but there nonetheless. Steve wasn’t sure how long it took but he eventually ran out of steam. He cried himself out and Billy just held him. He didn’t say a word. He didn’t push Steve away. He sniffed against Billy, not willing to let go yet.

“I thought…” he hiccuped. “I never got to tell you. I thought you were gone and you’d never have known.”

“Known what?” Billy finally asked. Steve pulled back just enough to look at Billy. He wiped at his eyes and nose furiously. 

“You ran away,” Steve said. “At prom. You kissed me and I didn’t expect it.”

Billy’s face was hard, closed off the way it had been every time Steve tried to talk to him since. He opened his mouth to say something but Steve cut him off, shaking his head.

“You didn’t give me a chance to realize what was going on.”

Billy snorted. “It isn’t that hard to figure out. You didn’t kiss me back. That’s all I needed to know.”

“We were fucking high, Billy,” Steve snapped. “It took me some time to process, okay? And if you let me get more than two words out-”

“I get it, Steve! You’re not interest-”

Steve cut Billy off, kissing him hard. He poured everything he had into it. All the hurt and fear and longing. He gave Billy everything there was to give and then some. Breathless, he pulled away, pressing his forehead against Billy’s.

“I’m not what now,” he challenged, catching his breath.

Billy tangled a hand in Steve’s hair. “I need to know you mean it,” he growled. “I need to know it’s not just because of…”

Steve shook his head. “I’ve been trying to tell you for almost a year now, idiot. You just wouldn’t let me.”

Billy held Steve tighter, making his heart flutter in his chest. They just stood there for a moment, wrapped up in each other, making up for lost time. Steve soaked in Billy’s warmth and presence. He was here. He was broken and scarred, but he was here. That’s all Steve needed. 

It was Billy who finally broke the silence, smiling softly. “Any particular reason you bought me a fucking cactus?”

[chickensarentcheap]

Best Part of Me- Chapter 40

WARNINGS: SMUT. NSFW

Tagging: @innerpaperexpertcloud​, @c-a-v-a-l-r-y​, @alievans007​, @ocfairygodmother​

He wakes to the sound of rain and rolling thunder and the crashing of the waves as they pummel the shore. The storm has brought much cooler conditions; a much needed break from the oppressive heat and humidity that has blanketed Australia for weeks. The wind is strong; bringing with it the heavy smell of salt,  the sound of rustling trees and the fluttering of curtains and the shuddering of windows.  For several minutes he stays where he is; comfortable and content, flat on his back with his closed and a forearm resting across his forehead. Listening to the sounds of the storm and the soft, slow breathing coming from the warm, sleeping figure beside him. On her stomach with the comforter pulled up to the tops of her ears and and her feet sticking up at the bottom; her face turned towards him and her hair messy and falling over her eyes.

Last night had been one of his better nights for sleep. Drifting off shortly after they’d made love for a second time; not hampered by pain in the shoulder or knee and waking up only once with the baby for a middle of the night feed. There’d been no dreams, thankfully. No vivid recollections of being a kid hiding in his bedroom closet, listening  to his father beat on his mother. No visions of Austin -as a child or an adult- and Millie on the beach.  No sounds of gunfire and explosions or the feel of a sniper’s bullet ripping through his back.  Just a peaceful, deep sleep the likes of which he hasn’t experienced in years. At least not without the aid of a lot of booze and a handful of Oxy.

Esme stirs beside him; mumbling in her sleep and then rubbing her cheek against her pillow; a hand blindly reaching out for him and coming to rest on his collarbone.  Counting the five days in Dhaka -and not including the months he’d spent in the hospital- they’ve been sharing a bed for seven years,  yet he still spends a handful of minutes every morning watching as she sleeps. There’s something different about her beauty when she’s at rest; when her features are softer and no worry creases her brow and there’s always a slight smile tugging at the corners of her lips.  She seems more innocent. Fragile, even. As if the purity and the youthfulness returns with the temporary banishment of stress and turmoil.

He moves onto his side, the movement causing her hand to slip from his collarbone and down onto his chest.  Her eyes never opening or even twitching when he uses a fingertip to clear the hair away from her forehead, gently tucking it behind her ear. He’d always struggled with moments like these; even after it had become clear that he was in love with her and they’d gotten married and started a family. Always anxious...even self conscious...about allowing him to show that level of affection. To let his guard down and be vulnerable. Emotional, even. Years of having it drilled into his head that that isn’t how a man -a real man- behaves; they don’t allow themselves to be ‘soft’.  Slowly she’d chipped away at the particular wall he’d built around himself, and over the course of their first year together he’d changed considerably; realizing it was okay to allow him to ‘feel’. That sometimes it was okay to think -and react- with just your heart.

Millie’s birth had been the tipping point; breaking down in front of the doctor and nurses when his baby girl was placed in his arms for the first time.  After that he’d no longer felt the need to hold back; comfortable with both saying -and showing- what he’s feeling.  His wife is the only one he truly trusts. Without question or hesitation. Not just with his life, but his heart. Knowing that she won’t judge him for his weaker moments; not seeing him as ‘less of a man’ if he shows even the slightest bit of vulnerability. And not once causing him to question her faithfulness. Sarah had fucked him up; the constant lying and cheating. And he’s never thought he’d ever put that kind of trust and loyalty into another woman again.

He leans in to place his lips on  her brow, then presses a series of feathery kisses against her face; over her eyebrows and against both eyes, down the bridge of her nose, across her cheeks and along her jaw. Their talk last night has unnerved him; forcing him to think about all the time he’s taking HER presence for granted. Those night he didn’t kiss her goodnight because she’d pissed him off about something stupid and trivial, the times he’d left the house following an argument and didn’t tell her that he loved her.  Or when he’d let physical pain and and his PTSD issues get the better of him and he’d been irritable and off hand with her. And there’s so many little things that he’d miss if they suddenly ceased to exist. Her laugh and the sound of her voice and the little she gives when he wakes her up after she’s fallen asleep on the couch with her head in his lap. The familiar scent that clings to her hair and how soft and warm her hands always feel against his body; the way she always stands on the top of his feet to hug him because she truly believes that even that little bit of extra height makes a difference.   And he can’t help but wonder if she ever feels that he’s taken her for granted; if he’s ever given her a reason to doubt just how much he appreciates her.

How much he loves her.

There’s so much uncertainty now; knowing there’s targets on their backs -more so his- and  that legitimate threats have already been made. Even he can’t stop thinking about the ‘what ifs’. If something does go horribly wrong and he doesn’t make it home., Or worse yet, if Mahajan’s people do manage to get close enough that he loses her.  He knows he wouldn’t be able to do it; raise five kids on his own.  He’d be a broken man; turning back to alcohol and pain meds to numb the overwhelming pain and the agony of tremendous loss. He’d been broken; nothing more than a shell of his former self. And then he’d lose his kids too.

His lips press against hers and he feels her smile against her mouth; her hand sliding up his chest and over the side of his head and up onto the back of his head; fingers in his hair as she responds to the kiss. Long and slow and soft, followed by several light pecks and the exchange of sleepy smiles.

“I’m cold,” she murmurs, and slides closer to him; chest pressed against his and her head tucked under his chin.

“I got you,” he says, draping a leg over hers and then wrapping both arms around her; as tight as she can possibly stand.

“That’s better,” she says, and he can feel her smile against his throat.

“You good?”

“Yeah…” she gives a content sigh. “...you’re so warm and you smell so good.”

“Haven’t showered since last night.”

“You smell like you. Like Tyler. And there’s no better smell in the world than that.  You smell like a man. MY man.”

“All yours baby. I’m all yours.”

She smiles again and he feels the tickle of her lashes against his skin when she closes her eyes. Her hand settling briefly on his hip before sliding up over his rib cage and around to his back. “What time is it?”

“I don’t know. Pretty early, I think. Kids are still asleep.”

“Did you get up with the baby last night?”

“Just once. Around two. She’s been sleeping since.”

“She’s growing up.”

He grins. “She’s not even a month old yet and six pounds soaking wet.”

“She’s starting to change. She’s only getting up once a night now.  And she’s getting longer and heavier. Maybe the newborn clothes will actually fit soon.”

“Maybe. She’s still a tiny little thing. I’m still afraid of hurting her when I pick her up.  I’m not used to one THAT small.”

“You’re a good daddy. A VERY good daddy. You know what you’re doing.  Did you sleep good?”

“I did, actually, No dreams.”

“That’s good,” she presses a kiss to his Adam’s apple. “I had a dream.”

“About what?”

“Us.”

Tyler grins. “Oh really…”

“Not THAT kind of dream. And not a Dhaka dream, either. Just a nice, somewhat normal dream.”

“Somewhat normal?”

“We met in a grocery store. In the produce section. And you had your old haircut and you were barefoot and you had on these low riding shorts and no shirt. I was buying cantaloupe and I had one in each hand and you said ‘nice melons’.”

He can’t but laugh at that, which in turn has her bursting into giggles.

“It was so cheesy but so charming at the same time. Because you said in that voice and with your accent and that makes everything that comes out of your mouth sound so sexy. So yeah...you said ‘nice melons’...and I gave you my phone number and that was it. We would have had crazy hot sex but you woke me up before things could get that far.”

“Why just dream about it when you can actually do it?”

“We had crazy hot sex twice last night.” She reminds him.

“There’s a rule we can’t have it in the morning too?”

“There’s no rule. But….”

“No buts. I don’t want to hear any buts. Only but I care about is this one..” his hands tightly grip her ass, fingers digging through the fabric of her pajama bottoms and into the soft, supple flesh. Pulling the bottom half of her body against his and letting her feel the state of his morning arousal.

She grins. “Almost forty one and you still wake up like that.”

“I’m a guy. I’ll wake up like this ‘til the day I die.”

“The kids are going to be up soon,” she says, but doesn’t protest when he reaches between them to undo the drawstring at the waist of her cotton bottoms..

“I’ll be quick,” he promises, as he sits back on his heels and yanks the pants down and off her legs, leaving them at the bottom of the bed.

“If I was to suggest that, you'd be offended.”

“You gotta do what you gotta do, yeah?”

“You’re very needy lately,” she teases.

“I have my reasons..”

He doesn’t want to tell her how scared he is.  That he’s ’s fully aware of just HOW dangerous and complicated it will be going into Mumbai. Mahajan has placed an enormous bounty on his head, and his reach and influence extend far beyond what Amir Asif had had in Dhaka.  He may be able to get away with killing off two of three of Mahajan’s ‘people’, but after that it would be open season on him; Mahajan will know exactly who is behind the kills and in turn will order for things to escalate. It will be hard to get  around Mumbai without being spotted. And it won’t matter how many people he brings with him. The target on his back will only grow bigger.

“And what reasons are those?” she asks.

“Ever thought maybe I just love you? That I like having sex with my wife?”

“I think you’re very lucky to have a wife that loves you back and also likes having  sex with you. And puts out as much as she does.”

“I definitely don’t take any of that for granted, trust me.”

He places  a kiss to the inside of one thigh, then the other; palms on her knees as he pushes her legs further apart.  Lips pressing against each juncture of where thigh meets hip, then moving up her body; hands lifting the bottom of her t-shirt. Pace quicker than the night before as he kisses, licks, and sucks all the way to her mouth. Tongue impatiently pushing past her teeth; calloused palms cupping and massaging her breasts, strong fingers plucking and toying with the painfully hard nipples.

“Get on top,” Tyler gently orders, gripping her hips as he rolls onto his back; one hand moving down to her ass while the other slips up the front of her t-shirt to fondle her breasts.

“You giving up control?” Esme grins, as she kneels between his splayed thighs. “This doesn’t happen often.”

“You better enjoy it while you can. Might be another seven years before it happens again.”

“We’ll see about that.”  Her fingers  hook in the waistband of his boxers, tips soft and teasing as they glide against his skin as she pulls them down. Grinning..almost victoriously...as a hiss escapes his lips when her nails dig painfully into the cheeks of his ass. “What?” she teases. “All of a sudden Tyler Rake can’t handle a little bit of pain? You of all people?”

“I’m about five seconds away from throwing you down and spanking your ass.”

“Promises, promises.”  She leans down to place a trail of kisses along his pubic bone and then lower; lips grazing against the inside of one thigh before sucking and biting at the flesh. “You’re so beautiful,” she breathes, and bite down particularly hard on one spot, causing him to flinch. “...so...so...so beautiful…” She speaks between kisses to the juncture between hip and thigh, tips of her fingers skimming along one side of his cock. A sly grin on her face and her eyes locked on his when she swipes her thumb across the head and proceeds to lick off the precum.

“Get up here.” he breathlessly demands.

“You don’t want me to..”

“I said get up here,”  he orders, pushing a hand through her hair and dripping tightly, gently yanking at it and urging her to do as she’s told.

“You’re very bossy this morning.” she chides, her eyes focused on his wide, dilated pupils and flushed cheeks and the sweat that glistens on his forehead. Her top teeth digging into her bottom lip as his fingers bite into her hips as he assists her in straddling him; sighing as she feels  his length running along her slick folds.

“Just shut up and fuck me,” he growls, a low groan rumbling deep within his chest when her hand wraps around his cock to position it at her entrance. Hands moving from her hips to her ass; tightly gripping it as she lowers herself onto him, both of her hands on his chest for support.  His eyes closing and his head tipping back at the sensation; her tightness and her moist heat. It’s so familiar yet still feels incredible each and every time he gets the chance to be inside of her.

“So good…” she whimpers, his face in her hands as she leans down to kiss him; breasts flattened against him,  one of his hands sliding over her ass and up underneath the back of her shirt. “..you feel so good, Tyler. You’ve always felt so good.”

He grips her ass painfully tight and his short nails rake against her back as he slips his tongue past her teeth; the kiss hungry and aggressive as his hips lift off the bed, pushing further inside of her.  And she gasps into his mouth, the feeling of him being so deep inside of her is almost overwhelming and too much to take; filling her like no man before him ever had.  He moves his hands from her back to her front; palms cradling and fondling her breasts and fingers teasing and playing with her nipples as she begins to move. Slowly and patiently rocking into him at first; eyes never leaving us, her hands planted firmly on his chest. Tyler can’t stop watching her; transfixed by those hooded eyes and her flushed cheeks and the way her hands tumbles down the sides of her face and over her shoulders.  And he groans when she allows his cock to slip completely out of her, only for her to sink back down again in one quick movement. His hands becoming rougher as her movements pick up pace; squeezing and pawing at her breasts, pinching and pulling at the sensitive nipples. Knowing exactly what she needs...what she wants..to bring her closer to the edge.

“Tyler…” she whispers, head falling onto his shoulder, nails dragging down his side. “...make me come...please make me come.”

“Look at me,” he manages through harsh, ragged breaths. “I want you to look at me. I want to watch you come.”

Her head lifts and her eyes flicker open; a slight blush creeps into her already flushed cheeks.

“Don’t be embarrassed, babe,” he says. “Never be embarrassed with me. Keep your eyes open and look at me the whole time.”

“I can’t.”

“Yes you can. It’s okay. I love you and there’s no reason for you to ever be embarrassed with me.”  He reaches up to cradle the side of her face in his palm, lifting his hips to encourage her to keep moving. “It’s okay, Esme,” his tone is gentle. Soothing. “I got you.”

His confidence in her sparks her own. Her chest heaving and soft, breathy sighs and moans begin to tumble from her lips as she rides him harder and faster. His one hand still on the side of her face; soft and loving, his thumb caressing her cheek and under her eyes and brushes over her lips and chin. A startling contrast to his other hand; rough and aggressive against her skin.

“You close?” he asks, and when she manages a feeble nod, he removes his hand from under her shirt and places his palm against her lower stomach; thumb pushing through her folds and finding her clit. Pressing against it and firmly rubbing at it until she’s coming undone. Her eyes dark and wild and her face flushed, entire body trembling; his name leaving her lips in a strangle cry as she struggles to keep the volume down.  “You’re so beautiful,” he praises. “You’re so fucking beautiful when you come.”

He gathers her in both arms and pulls her down into him; kissing her deeply as his body takes over; those few trusts rough and punishing as he loses control. Her name and a slew of profanities slipping from his mouth as he empties himself deep inside of her. And her body goes completely slack against his; her face buried in the space between his neck and shoulder. His heavy, uneven breath tickling her skin and fluttering her hair.

“I love you,” he breathes. “I love you so much and I don’t want to lose you.”

“I love you, Tyler,” she says in return, lips against the side of his neck. “Tell me it’s going to be okay. That WE’RE going to be okay.”

“We’re going to be fine.” he assures her, and presses a kiss to her sweaty forehead. “I promise.”

****

Addie is the first to wake; her incessant crying filtering through the baby monitor speaker that’s kept in the nightstand next to his side of the bed. Groaning loudly, he untangles himself from a mixture of sweaty limbs and sweat dampened sheets.  Careful not to wake his wife as he gingerly removes both her arm and head from his chest; gently placing the latter upon her pillow before sliding out of bed. Wincing when the simple act of pulling on a pair of sweats causes immediate pain in the small of his back. The arthritis is getting worse; a deep ache that seems to travel straight through into the bone. No amount of over the counter medication takes the edge off anymore, and he briefly considers trying to hunt down someone...anyone..that can get him something strong. Not necessarily Oxy; he’s determined to NOT go down that road again. But something at least equivalent to it.  The doctor will be of no help; his addiction no secret.  

All thoughts of pain meds and other vices disappear when he hears the rustling of sheets and Esme's soft voice behind him.

“Tyler…” she lifts her head from her pillow; so cute when her hair is messy and she’s completely disoriented. “...do you want me to get her?”

“I’m already on it. Go back to sleep, baby.”

He waits by the side of the bed until she settles and proceeds to  draw   the comforter up past her shoulders; tucking   it tightly around her and then placing a kiss to her cheek before leaving the room.

***

Ovi sits at the kitchen table; hair mussed and eyes blurry, a massive bowl of Lucky Charms cereal and a glass of orange juice in front of him. And he manages a smile that comes across as pained and miserable.

Tyler knows a wicked hangover when he sees it.

“You look like shit,'' he comments, Addie laying stomach down along one of his forearms as he grabs a bottle of formula from the fridge. It’s been almost six years of daddy duty and things are routine now; able to do them in his sleep if he had to. Boiling water in the kettle and pouring it into a measuring cup and letting the bottle sit in it for no less than a minute.

Even at three weeks she’s incredibly picky. And demanding. Already taking after her older sister.

“I FEEL like shit,” Ovi grumbles.

“You were already pretty trashed when I stopped by. Did you give up after that or…”

“Drank until I puked. Then drank some more.”

“I remember those days,” Tyler smirks. “Trust me when I say no pussy is worth that.”

“You wouldn’t be saying that if Esme left you,” Ovi counters. “You’d probably go on a week-long bender.”

“Probably a month. If not more. But there’s a huge difference. That’s my wife. Not just some girl I’m playing house with. Little worse I think if my wife and mother of my kids took off.”

“You don’t have to worry about that. She’s never going to leave you. No matter how bad you fuck up. All the times you messed up and she still sticks around. She even took you back when shit got really bad. For some reason.”

“Maybe because she’s a grown ass woman and not some little girl. Maybe because she actually loves me. And maybe because three years and three kids with one another means a hell of a lot more than the six months you spent with Chloe. Don’t even compare the two, mate. They’re not even close. Alright, calm down,” he addresses Addie now, as he plucks the bottle from the boiled water and vigorously shakes it; dripping  some of the formula into his mouth to test the temperature. “It’s coming, I promise, Don’t freak out now. Don’t be such a drama queen. You’re not gonna starve. You’re getting more like Millie every day.”

“Knee?” Ovi asks, noticing the wince and the sharp intake of breath when Tyler sinks into the chair across from him.

“Knee. Back. My whole fucking body.” He adjusts  Addie’s position on his arm; laying her on her back with her head tucked into the crook of his elbow, then offering  her the bottle. A smile curving his lips as he looks down at her; those huge dark eyes focused intently on him, her hand coming up to rest on his and her entire fist closing around one of his fingers.  It’s been three weeks and he still can’t get over just how small she is; much daintier and more fragile than all the others had been.

“Daddy’s girl already,” Ovi remarks.

“I think so. Her big sister must be rubbing off on her.”

“It’s always a little weird when I see you doing dad things,” Ovi admits. “Even after all this time. Because I still remember what you were like in Dhaka. And then I see you like this...with a baby...especially a little girl..and it doesn’t seem like those two guys are even the same person.”

“‘Cause they’re not. I’m not the same person I was back then. Far from it.”

“Maybe not in some ways. But in other ways you still are. You’re still Tyler.”

“Old Tyler, new Tyler,” he muses. “That’s what Esme calls them. I like to think I’m more new Tyler, but to be honest, these days I’m not so sure anymore. I’m starting to feel more and more like the old one again. And I don’t know if that’s a good thing.”

“Getting back into the job, you mean?”

“It’s gone way past just getting back into the job and starting my own business. We’re so far past that.”

Ovi’s head cocks to the side, a quizzical look on his face.

“When were you going to tell me about your old man?” Tyler asks. “That you’ve been talking to him?”

The younger man’s eyes widen in surprise. Maybe even a little fear.

“You weren't going to tell me, were you. You had no intention of telling me.”

“I thought I could handle things,” Ovi feebly explains.

“On your own?”

He nods.

“Didn’t handle things so well seven years ago, did you? When you were so scared you pissed your pants. When you shot Gaspar and cried to me about wanting me to go home.  You know who put you in that mess? Who put ME in it? Who got Esme mixed up in it? Your old man. That’s how much he loves you and respects you. Couldn’t even stay on the straight and narrow for his own kid.”

“I know that. I know ALL of that. I know what kind of person he is.”

“Wouldn’t take no for an answer, would he. No matter how many times you said it. He can’t handle the fact that you want nothing to do with him or his business.”

“I DON’T want anything to do with it. That’s not who I am. That’s not who I want to be.”

Tyler’s eyes remained focused on the baby happily feeding; her gaze still on him, her fist holding his finger as tightly as it can. He knows he can stay calm if he just looks at her; at that dark hair and the look of trust and adoration she has for him. Even the purple, pink, and yellow stripes on her sleeper. If he concentrates on all of that, he knows he can keep it together.  

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks.

“I didn’t want you getting involved,” Ovi replies. “There were so many other things going on. Esme was just getting ready to have the baby and things were stressful and you were worried about them and…”

“You should have told me,” Tyler insists. “We could have stopped it before it got as far as it has. Did he threaten me too? Did he say anything? About me? About my wife and my kids?”

“How do you know all of this? How…?”

“Did he? Mention my wife and kids?”

“He was angry, That I wouldn't go back to Mumbai and take things over. He blamed it on you. Said that you had brainwashed me into into  hating him. Into disrespecting him. And that if you weren't careful, you’d pay for it. Because he knows how to hurt a man where it hurts the most.”

“He say anything else about them? About my family?”

“Just that if you didn’t watch your step, they’d be the ones to pay the price.”

Tyler gives a derisive snort and shakes his head. “And you didn’t think it was a good idea to tell me this? That he was threatening my wife and my kids?”

“I thought I could handle it another way. That I could get into the job and then I’d be able to protect myself. And you guys, My family.”

“That is the stupidest fucking thing I’ve ever heard. You’re a kid.”

“I’m twenty,” Ovi argues.

“You’re a kid,” Tyler stresses. “That is my wife and my kids your old man is threatening. And I would do anything to protect them. No question asked. And you didn’t think it was a good idea to tell me about all of this?”

“I thought I could handle it. Especially once Nik got on board and…”

“Oh fuck Nik,” Tyler snarls. “Who gives a shit about Nik. This is my family your father’s threatening. Not Nik’s. And you should have told me. Not her. Because now the shit is really hitting the fan and things are fucked up and if anyone gets near Esme and my kid because of your old man…”

“I think it’s just threats. Harmless one. To scare you.”

“There’s nothing harmless about them. They’re legit. They’re the real deal. You know the next door neighbour?”

“Salena? What about her? What…?”

“Her name isn’t Salena. It’s Allison. Allison Rav.”

Ovi frowns. “She’s related to Saju? How?”

“She was married to his youngest brother. They started a private security company. To honour Saju and the absolute fucking disaster he got dragged into. Your father threatened his family, too. Did you know that?”

Ovi nods.

“Seems to be his thing. Threatening a man’s family. Seven years later and he’s still after Neysa and Aarav.”

“What? Why?”

“Revenge. Saju didn’t complete his mission. Not all of it, anyway. And now her and the kid are in hiding and your old man’s people can’t find them. They’re pissed. So guess who they’re going to take it out on?”

“You?”

“Not just me, mate. Esme, The kids. It could be today, it could be tomorrow. Could be a week. Maybe even a month from now. I’ve got a big fucking target on my back and they’re going to come for my family first. Because they know that will break me. They know my family is my weakness. And they won’t stop until my wife and my kids are dead.”

“So what are you going to do?” Ovi asks. “What…?”

“It’s what WE’RE going to do. Me and you and Nathan. That ex Marine I told you about. We’re going to Mumbai.”

“No,” Ovi vigorously shakes his head. “No. I’m not going there. I’m not going back. I won’t go there.”

“You ARE going. Even if I have to drag your ass onto the plane. You let things get this far. It didn’t need to get worse. If you'd told me right from the start, I could have stopped things before they got worse. But now it’s a regular goddamn dumpster fire. You got me into this mess, you’re going to help get me out of it.  Understand me?”

“I can’t,” Ovi insists. “I can’t go there. I can’t.”

“You’re going. There’s no way out of this. You fucked up.  You put my wife and my kids in danger. You put this target on my back.  Now you’re going to help straighten this shit out. You think I’m just going to sit back and let these people come here? Think I’m just going to wait for them? Fuck that. I’m going to hunt them down. Every single last one. And I’m going to put a bullet in each of their heads. And your old man is the last one on my list.”

Ovi blinks. “You’re going to kill him?”

“You going to stand in my way?” Tyler retorts. “Because if you even try to stop me…”

His voice trails off at the sound of little feet rushing down the stairs. Accompanied by boisterous chattering and giggling  from the three oldest and Declan’s broken speech and ear piercing shrieks; a tired sounding Esme begging them ‘turn it down a notch,”  And soon they’re flooding into the kitchen; little arms wrapping around his neck and kisses being pressed to his cheeks and their ‘good morning daddy’ in those tiny voices.  Always happy to see him. Even if it’s only been ten hours since he tucked them  into bed. Always trusting that he’ll be there. Never worrying they’ll come downstairs and find his chair empty.

“Good morning.” Esme places her hands on his shoulder and kisses his temple. “Everything okay? You guys look pretty serious.”

“Just having a little chat,” Tyler says. “About what we talked about last night.”

“Not right now, please, Not with the kids here. They don’t know about any of this. Normal, remember? We need to keep things normal for them.”

He nods in agreement, and she pecks his cheek and tousles his hair before heading to help the kids with preparing the Sunday morning family breakfast.

“You won’t stop me,” Tyler says to Ovi. Voice low. Menacing. “You CAN’T stop me. And if you know what’s good for you, you won’t even try.”

[pyjamasaustraliaau]

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[laughyoudrecognize]

I was tagged by the amazing @takeawaythepain :)

Relationship status: single and too much anxiety to mingle

Favorite color: sage green, blush, blues, lavender

Favorite foods: salads, mac and cheese, bread, ice cream

Song stuck in my head: Haunted by Taylor Swift

Last song I listened to: The Lakes

Last thing I googled: cotton pajamas (hahaha I need pjs)

Time: 8:59pm

Dream trip: Going on a long trip where I go to all the state and national parks in the U.S. or like honestly anywhere. I want to see things. China, Japan, England, Australia, Canada,etc.

Anything I really want: I want to get a permanent job that I like and go places and see people. Also, I really want to get into grad school again (I need to stop procrastinating the apps and letting my anxiety stop me)

I tag @safeinpeetasarms and anyone who wants to do it!