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writingsbychlo · 3 years

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white christmas | thomas

word count; 16,567

summary; after some unexpected snow ruins your christmas day plans, you spend your first christmas as a married couple making it up as you go along.

notes; this is a follow up (and the final part to!) ‘Sin City’ and ‘Sun City’. I was actually originally going to call this ‘Snow City’ but I wasn’t sure how that would go down. anyways, go enjoy.

warnings; smut, unprotected sex, cum play, breeding kink

When you woke up, it was to the sound of the coffee machine whirring slowly in the kitchen, and you rolled over, patting at the spot next to you, and pouting when it came up empty. The sheets were still warm to the touch, and you sighed, cracking an eye open to look at the place. The bedding was still crumpled, tucked back up and over you, and there was a barely visible sliver of light creeping in from the crack in the curtains, lighting up the room.

The alarm clock read just after ten, a sleep in for the both of you, but you deserved it on Christmas Day, and you smiled, the joy of the day washing over you once again. It was cold, unusually so for Vegas, and a chill ran over you as you sat up. Your legs were bare beneath the covers stretched out and staying warm, but the tank top on your upper body did little to warm you now that your human furnace of a husband had left you.

When you finally found the motivation to move, it was only to find a cardigan, tugging it over your arms and rolling the knitted sleeves up and out of your way to sit at your mid-forearms, and searching for a pair of pants. A plaid pair of sleep pants that belonged to your lover, tying them at the waist nice and loose as they sat over your stomach, just enough to be comfy, before you were trailing through the house. He was facing the counter, scrolling through his phone and chewing on a piece of a granola bar idly, the machine still dripping coffee through slowly.

He scarcely even flinched as you made your presence known, your arms slipping around his waist and face pressing between his shoulder blades as you left a kiss to the material of his shirt covering his back, before pressing your cheek over the patch. His free hand came down to settle over your own, squeezing lightly, and humming as he acknowledged you.

“Mornin’, baby.”

“Merry Christmas.” You teased, a sweet chuckle leaving him, before he was putting his phone down, and twisting in your arms to see you instead. Cupping your face, he leaned down, pressing a sweet hiss to your lips, and you licked the slightly sticky residue of honey away when he pulled back, the faint traces of his pre-breakfast snack still lingering on his mouth.

“Merry Christmas to you, too.”

You only nodded, bumping the tip of your nose against his needily, and he caught the hint, laughing lightly and letting his breath wash over your face as his lips brushed yours. “More? What, all the love and affection you got last night wasn’t enough for you?”

“Yesterday was a completely different day. I haven’t had nearly my quota for kisses yet today.”

“Well, guess I can’t argue with that logic.” His words were mumbled, thumbs smoothing over your cheeks, before dipping down to catch your lips with his own, a slow and lazy kiss that was perfect for the mood. You didn’t need much, and you were past the thrill of overexcited Christmas mornings, you weren’t a child anymore, and one day, your house would be filled with kids of your own, to have those over-excited Christmas mornings again, so you were simply soaking up the bliss of a quiet and hazy one with your husband now.

His tongue teased along your lower lip, pressing lightly at the seam in which they connected, prompting you to part them for him, and you were more than happy to grant him that access. He fell backwards when your hands disconnected from around his waist, smoothing up his back and around his body, until one was sitting on his chest, the other weaving into his hair. His back pressed to the counter, supporting you as you leant up on him, sighing against his mouth.

A breathy groan sounded in the air, deep from him as it originated in the back of his throat, vibrating through you in a way that made you tremble a little under his touch. Your head tipped to the side, a raspy breath taken in before letting him dive back into you once again, your heart racing in your chest and the tips of his fingers dug a little harder into your jaw. You loved knowing you still had this kind of effect on him, and that he had this effect on you, even after being married and having been together for so long, and you truly hoped that the passion between you both never dulled.

When the machine beside you beeped to signal the end of its rotation, he finally pulled away, lips shining and red, the hints of beginning to swell, and he ran the pad of a thumb over your own, before he was pressing back into you, stealing a series of small kisses again, dipping you backwards, until you were out of breath but laughing, cheeks flushing as the need to breathe overwhelmed you, but the way his teeth were scraping lightly at your lower lip was far more intoxicating.

He was beaming when he pulled away, bringing you in close to him again, a hand dropping down to sit on your lower back, pulling you into his body, and letting him spin you both around, so that he could reach for the coffeemaker with the other. He poured two mugs, adjusting the sugar and creamer for you both while never letting you go, holding you close, even when you leaned away for utensils and condiments, working together, a laugh on your lips at the overly wet kiss he pressed to your cheek.

His declaration of love may not have been verbal, but it was clear in everything he did, from the littlest touches to the way he held you close, and the way he made easy gestures such as coffee in the morning or tucking the sheets back over you to keep you warm when he left the bed, endearment in every action he took.

“What are we going to do about today, hm?”

He sipped his drink after asking the question, staring at you pointedly, and your brows furrowed, pausing as you lifted your own hot drink into your hands, and frowning. “We’re going to Newt’s, he’s having everyone over for Christmas, and this is the first year that we can kiss under the mistletoe and exchange gifts without pretending to just be half-friends and half-colleagues, tight smiles and seemingly forced hugs when really, I just want to kiss you senseless and wipe the foam away from the edge of your mouth when you get cream on your lip every single time we have hot chocolate.”

“Oddly specific, have you been daydreaming a lot?” He teased, your cheeks flaring up with heat as you shot him a false glare, but he only grinned, before pouting, and tapping at his lips for a kiss. You hesitated, for only a moment, that second being long enough for punishment, before you leaned up and kissed him sweetly. He seemed satisfied with it, but his original question was still ringing in your mind, and he seemed to pick up on that too, being able to read you like a book at this point; “Go look outside the window, honey.”

He tipped his head towards the tipped up blinds, and you padded over, pulling one down and peeping out, gasping a little in shock at the thin blanket of white that was covering the garden, and the roofs of the other houses, the roads undisturbed as nobody had yet dared to drive along them.

“It’s bad luck, I guess.”

“It’s not that bad, right?” You turned back to him, the realisation of just why it was that it had been quite so cold this morning coming through, and you rubbed at your arms a little, wrapping your cardigan around yourself a little tighter. “What, it's like, two or three inches? We can handle that!”

“Yeah, but, it was a bit rainy yesterday, and the temperatures dipped under during night, so it froze over. There’s going to be hidden ice on the roads, and I’m not used to driving in snow. I don’t want to risk it, baby.” You frowned, staring up at him with wide eyes as you stopped before him, and he ran a hand over your cheek, kissing the other side, but it did little to raise your low spirits. “Not when I’d have such precious cargo on board.”

“I’m not precious cargo.” You grouched, and he chuckled.

“You’re the most precious cargo to me.” He denied, and your arms crossed over your stomach, rolling on the balls of your feet as he turned away, making his way over to the fridge. It was somewhat empty, only a large bowl of mashed potatoes that would have served fifteen people being what you were supposed to be taking, and yet you still had no idea what you would whip up for your breakfast or dinner, but you supposed you’d make it work. “Anyway, Minho just texted and said he and Brenda aren’t going to make it either, and Newt’s boyfriend can’t get over from his parents who he stayed with last night, so we figured we could just video chat, or something, instead.”

“Yeah, okay.”

He turned around to face you at the sound of disappointment in your voice, growing a little at the dismayed look on your face, and he closed the refrigerator door, leaning against it and crossing his arms. “Hey, c’mon, cheer up. Maybe it’ll be nice to have our first Christmas as a married couple to ourselves. Didn’t you say you wished we’d have a white Christmas?”

“Yeah, but I was excited to see our friends.”

“We’ll make it work, angel, don’t worry.” He rubbed his hands up and down your arms, tempting you to let go of the tense distress you were holding, and it worked, your shoulders slumping as you gave in, offering him a smile when he cheered lightly at feeling you melt a little under his persuasion. “Want me to warm you up, sweetheart?”

A scoff left you, and you shoved at his chest, letting him snicker as you walked away, flipping him off a little over your shoulder, and moving back to the bedroom to get your phone. There were notifications from the girls, and your family, all wishing you a ‘Merry Christmas’ and good thoughts, and you returned it to them as you walked back through, straightening the bedsheets back out and opening the curtains before you did.

When you returned to the kitchen, the sweet smell of fruit and pancakes filled the air, a batter being whipped up by the man you loved, and you hopped up to sit on the kitchen island in the centre of the room. You were just beginning to open your emails when your phone lit up with a call, and you jumped slightly, before answering it, cheering a little as you greeted your friend.

“Hey, Newt! Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas to you as well, love. Tommy, too, is he there?”

“Yeah, he’s here, standing right in front of me at the stove.” You reached a foot out, tapping at his ass with your toes and giggling as he jumped, turning to glare at you for the action, red tinging his cheeks, before he was slapping your foot away gently. “Sorry we can’t see you today, who would’ve guessed we’d get snow in Vegas, huh?”

“Maybe it’s because of your wish for a ‘white Christmas’, you jinxed it.” Your husband taunted, reaching for a pan, and you scowled at him, rolling your eyes fondly, and you could hear your friend laughing down the line of the phone as he listened in.

“You two have always bickered like a married couple, and we always wondered why. Now you really are a married couple, and it’s still the biggest reveal of the century.”

“What can I say? Keeping you lot in the dark made it all the more fun for us. The sneaking around was hot.” Thomas cheered loudly at your words, heating up some butter over the flame, and beginning to cook your breakfast, Newt gagging falsely into the speaker.

“I didn’t need to know what kinky shit the two of you use to keep your relationship alive, thanks.”

“Yeah, yeah. If that’s not what you wanted, then why did you call, huh?” You leaned over again, poking at your husband with your foot, and he reached down, a hand wrapping around your ankle, thumb smoothing over your skin, and he held onto you lightly, using his other hand to flip the pancakes over to let the other side begin to cook.

“Just wanted to check if four was a good time for you both, that’s when everyone else can get online. Some of us have familial commitments and such, not just fucking like weirdly-secretive bunnies to fill the schedule, so we figured it’d work for you, too?”

“Hey, Tommy, four works for us, right?” He held up his other hand in a thumbs up, before piling pancakes up on a plate, and letting go of your leg, allowing it to fall back to swinging under the counter, and beginning to fill the pan up again. “Yeah, four o’clock works for us.”

“Great, see you then, love.”

“Bye, Newt.”

The line went dead, and you placed it down, laughing a little to yourself once again over his comment, and Thomas offered you a smile over his shoulder.

As the pancakes were finished, he created a pile of them on a plate, before bringing them over and placing them on the counter beside your legs, blueberries shining through within them, steam rising up from the plate, a knife and fork following, and he grabbed the whipped cream from the fridge, shaking it up.

“Feelin’ a little more cheery now, angel?”

“Yeah, I guess so. Like, a seven out of ten.” You sighed, picking up the cutlery, and he stuck his lower lip out in false sympathy.

“Only a seven? We gotta’ fix that.” He nudged the plate closer to you, a dollop of cream sprayed onto the plate beside the heap, and your stomach grumbled happily at the sight of the meal before you. “Eat your pancakes, sweetheart.”

“What about you?”

“I already know what I’m gonna’ eat.” He winked, a lazy drop of one eyelid, before he was filling his mouth with the whipped treat and leaning in to place a messy kiss to your lips, the taste of the sweet and creamy condiment spreading to your mouth as your groaned, feeling rough hands slide up your thighs and squeeze roughly. His hands were tugging at the ends of your shirt, your cutlery clattering back to the counter to shuck off your cardigan, before he was pushing your top up and over your head, breasts falling free and nipples pearling in the cold air. “Let me warm you up, honey, make it all better.”

You could only nod, back arching into his touch when you felt the nozzle of the canister run down between your tits, before crying out when the chilled dessert was sprayed in a swirl over one of your nipples. He repeated the action on the other to match, before a line was moving along your chest, right to your navel, and you lay back on the counter, head hanging over the other side.

“You look so sweet, baby, and I know just how good you taste, can’t wait to get my mouth on you.” Two fingers pressed to your core through the plaid pants you wore, rubbing softly and you keened up into his touch. A hot mouth descended to your neck as his fingers worked slowly, kissing lightly along your neck, drags of his teeth to make you shiver, and he sucked roughly at your collarbones in a way that made you shake. He knew all of your weak spots, and all of the pieces that made you weak, having learned your body like the back of his own hand, experience over years of patience and testing, and when he finally moved down to your chest, you knew there would be marks all along your skin come tomorrow, showing up in dark bruises that matched his mouth perfectly.

He bit down, just enough force to make you cry out his name, on the side of your breast and licking it to soothe it, before his mouth was closing over one perky nipple.

The topping there was lapped away, tongue dragging in deliberately slow and teasing motions, your head spinning at the feeling of the bud being rolled along his tongue, nibbled on slightly until the skin was raw in a delicious way that always made everything feel ten times better, beginning to grow sensitive under the attention he gave to you, before he switched to give the other the same treatment. Your hand laced into his hair, holding him to your chest, a groan leaving him as your nails scratched over his scalp, the feeling vibrating along every nerve in your body until your fingertips were tingling, toes curling from where your legs dangled.

“Tommy..”

“God, I love the way you sound when you moan my name. So fuckin’ hot.” His words were a little slurred, his own arousal seeping through, and he was cleaning your skin of the cream he’s left there, licking his way down along your body until you were no longer coated in the substance, and he was sinking to his knees, fingers hooked into the band of your pyjamas and you could barely lift your hips up to help him, body trembling with need and desire, and he tugged them away, discarding them to the floor, along with your panties. “Pretty little pussy, dripping for me, so perfect.”

Kisses along your inner thighs, and you whined out, legs being lifted up to rest over his shoulder, ankles loving behind his neck, and for a moment, heat simply washed over your centre from his panted breaths, before he was indulging himself in your sodden core.

A loud cry, bouncing off of all the walls in the kitchen was emitted from you as you felt the tip of his tongue parted your folds, teasing around your entrance before flattening along your middle. He took his time, cleaning you of everything that you had to give, juices dripping out of your more and more, the longer he teased you and waited, and you could already feel yourself finding it harder to breathe, white-hot heat scorching along your body as he treasured you, devouring you like his final meal.

There were times when Thomas was quick and rough, sucking and biting at your clit with just enough pain to make you cry and scream in all the best ways, before fucking you with his tongue until you were shaking and no longer sentient, but then there were times like today.

These were the moments when he really took his time, tongue swirling along you, dragging around your clit until it was throbbing, tears lining your eyes from desperation, before is lips were brushing over the bead, enough to make a jerky motion journey along your entire body as you reacted to that simplest and lightest of touches with so much need.

“Oh, fuck, please, Tommy..”

“Want my mouth, huh, baby? Look at you, all whiny and desperate. Love it when you’re like this, needy for what only I can give you.” He gave into you when another pleading noise roe up from your throat and into the air, thumbs smoothing up along your thighs to part your folds, revealing the little bud to him entirely, and he dragged the roughness of his tongue over it slowly, broken gasps leaving you as your body spasmed a little, the stimulation so welcome and craved that your head went blank as he finally gave you what you wanted. “Needy baby, all for me.”

You would’ve retorted, snapped back, had anything to say, had it not been for his lips wrapping around your clit, sucking on it harshly as your hips bucked up into his face, and your eyes rolled back in your head. A finger prodded at your core, a single digit slipping into your velvet channel with ease, and your walls clenched frantically around the finger from the moment he had sunk right down until his knuckles were pressed to your flesh. He could reach deeper than you ever could and you couldn't drag oxygen into your body in even half-lungfuls anymore because he was driving you insane, twisting and curling that finger, just enough to rub at your walls, teasing you as he searched for that spot that drove. you wild.

He knew where it was, his fingertip brushing against it, and when you keened up, loud sobs of his name falling from your lips, he chuckled into your skin. Abusing both patches that made you crazy, inside and out, he was a deadly combination, slow motions making you wish he’d speed up, but he was dragging it out, knowing that if he kept it up, you’d melt, become utterly senseless and completely empty of any thought or complaint about the day, and that was where he wanted you.

You knew he did, he wanted you blissed out, cum-drunk and dazed, so that you wouldn't be sad about missing your friends or not getting to celebrate how you wanted, and you were more than happy to give in to that whim if it meant you were allowed to chase the orgasm that was steadily building within you at the momentum because as that spring wound up tighter and the heat rose, there wasn’t a single thought in your head except reaching climax, and chanting your husbands name as his mouth worked you over.

Your hand was tangled in the dark chocolate locks atop his head, still messy and mussed from sleep, now even more fucked-up as you tugged at them limply, body going weak as you teetered on the edge of your peak. As though sensing how close you were, his attention moved from your swollen bud, down further, slurping up hungrily at everything you’d given him, everything he’d drawn from you, before this tongue was plunging into your centre.

At the touch, you exploded, stars flashing behind your eyes as you came undone around his tongue, and he moaned himself, loudly and unashamedly as his fingers flexed against your thighs, wiggling tightly and holding them apart as they trebled, legs attempting to snap closed around his head and he never let up on his assault, tongue fucking in and out of you as your walls fluttered.

He’d given up on the soft and lazy act, becoming impatient himself, and he’d always been vocal about how much he loved to be buried between your thighs, but sometimes, it still surprised you, times like now, when he was selflessly desperate to feel you come undone again, to lick you clean as juices flowed from you, and your head was spinning as you neared yet another edge.

He pulled back, two fingers delving into your folds, moving at speeds you could barely comprehend as they slammed in and out of you, your cries growing in volume until you were screaming his name, arching up and quivering against the marble countertop, before he placed a final nip to your clit, humming proudly and contentedly as he felt you cum again. Juiced dripped down his wrist, pooling on the floor in droplets, tears dripping from your eyes, chest heaving for breath, and when you couldn’t take it anymore, he pulled back. Licking you clean and leaving you to beg and plead, spasming atop the tabletop, he left you clean of slick and cum, kissing his way back up your body until he was standing between your parted thighs, the tip of his nose nudging under your jaw.

“Better?”

You made a vague sound of questioning, too fucked-out to even open your eyes, and you were sure Thomas’ chest was puffing out, ego swelling at just how he managed to get you like this, and he pulled away. Sucking wet fingers into his mouth to clean them off, he used his other to pull you up into a sitting position, goosebumps rising along your skin as the chill in the room began to seep back in.

You waved a hand around loosely for your top, finding it and tugging it back on, barely checking it was on the right way, before your cardigan was following. Large hands were still massaging along your legs, which were now wrapped around his waist, and you jumped a little as his thumb smoothed over a deliciously sore bite mark that he’d left on your inner thigh.

“That was fucking fantastic.” You murmured, wrapping your arms around his neck, and he beamed, pride rising within him, but he didn’t comment on it. “Best Christmas present ever.”

“Don’t say that, you haven’t even opened my gifts yet. I’ve got you beat this year, there’s no way you can top it.” You cracked a smirk, shrugging at him and resting your cheek to his shoulder.

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that, I have a pretty great gift for you myself.” His hands smoothed up and down your back under your jacket, warming you up through and through just with the loving touches he gifted to you. It was moments like these that you would always remember; sex with Thomas was mind-blowing and spectacular every single time, but it was the moments after that were what made your relationship what it was, the way he’d hold you so lovingly, touch you with such tender adoration that you felt your heart may actually explode, ad he did it all because he wanted to, not because e was expected to or he thought t would make you happy, but purely because he desired to be with you as much as you with him. “Can I have my pants back now?”

“Think you need new ones, yours are pretty wet.” There was a tone laced to his voice that made shy and embarrassed warmth flood your face once again, making you glad he couldn't see you from where you were buried in his neck, but not missing the way his foot was rubbing the garments across the tiles to dry the floor, before flicking them away a little.

“Okay, but let me down, because I’m still hungry, and I want those pancakes.”

He held you a second longer, a light squeeze, before he stepped back and let you go, tapping at your ass in a cheeky spank as you bent to collect your discarded clothes to take to the laundry, before you were walking away from him with a skip.

A new set of clothes, a trip to the bathroom to clean yourself up, and running a brush through your hair to fix it and pull it out of your face and into a reasonably controllable bundle on your head. When you reentered the kitchen, Thomas was sitting on one of the stools, using your knife and fork to eat the half-cold pancakes, and you grabbed your own set, sitting opposite him, and tucking in.

The meal consisted of laughs, and jokes, hinting at gifts for one another without ever quite giving them away, and then, making a plan for your day. You didn’t have the right ingredients to make a Christmas dinner, and an entirely free day, where you would have been leaving in half an hour to make your way over to Newt’s place. Instead, you would exchange your gifts together, and make your attempt at a decent Christmas dinner, before video chatting with your friends for a while, and finishing off the day with a movie.

It wasn’t the Christmas you’d planned, but it would be perfect in its own way.

The tree lights were twinkling softly, glittering on the wrapping paper you had covering your gifts neatly underneath, a matching set in a different colour, reindeers dancing across the front in a gift wrap Thomas had chosen for you. Your untouched coffee was now cold, and you tipped it away, getting a new mug out and filling the kettle under the tap, before setting it off. A herbal tea bag was placed into the mug, a spoonful of honey and a slice of lemon to follow, before a pair of arms were wrapping around your waist.

“Hurry up, I want you to open your gift already.”

“Patience is a virtue.” You hummed, and he sighed loudly, shuffling in a little closer to you. His chin hooked onto your shoulder, hot breath fanning over your cheek, followed by a seat kiss, and you leaned back a little into his chest. Your hands rested over your hips where his hand had joined, squeezing lightly, and nuzzled a little further into you. “Besides, I already told you that my gift is going to win this year.”

“I won for the last two years and Valentine’s Day, you don’t stand a chance.”

You rolled your eyes, grinning a little at his competitive side beginning to shine through, and as the kettle finally clicked off, water boiling, you filled your mug, stirring it lightly to spread the flavour, before nudging him backwards with your hips, hearing him groan a little as you did, a false glare on his face form the way you’d pressed your ass up against him to get him to move, but then, he was following you to the living room.

You blew the steam from your mug, fingers wrapping around the warm ceramic, the smell of apple and cranberry drifting up to your nose, surrounding you and soothing any worries you may have as you settled down onto the couch. Thomas stood before the tree, one foot poking at the gifts sitting under the decorative branches, assessing them all, before turning to look at you. “Save the best for last?”

There was a smirk on his face, and you mirrored it, his eyes narrowing on you a little bit. “Works for me.”

“Great, so I’ll give you a gift last, then?”

“For now.” His cocky tone was enough to make the game a little more exciting, and he rose a brow, turning to motion at the gifts that you’d placed there, before lifting one up for you. He handed it over, before looking back at the ones for him, and waiting for you to guide him. “Open any, the winning gift isn’t under the tree.”

“I think you’ll find it is.” He teased, pointing to the one he’d wrapped himself, before grabbing the first glitter package with his name on that he could reach.

“Actually, it’s over here, sitting on the couch.” A wicked grin on your lips, and his eyes scanned over you, jaw dropping a little, and you watched as his eyes went half-lidded for just a second, wondering just how filthy his mind had gone, and then he was chewing on his lower lip, seeming to snap back to reality, his gaze snapping up from your tits to your eyes.

He pounced, two strides closing the distance, before one hand was supporting himself on the back of the couch as he leaned over you, pressing a long kiss to your lips, licking his way into your mouth, and groaning a little at the way you pressed back into him just as eagerly, one hand lacing into his hair, pulling on the strands slightly. When he pulled back, it was with your lower lip between his teeth, growling lightly, before letting it go. “I can’t wait to unwrap that gift later, then.”

“Alright, hot stuff.”

He beamed, taking a seat beside you and placing the sparkly package onto his lap, a few pieces of glitter falling away to decorate his pyjama pants, but he was too excited to steady himself anyway. Tearing at the paper, he left it scattered along the living room floor, stripping the gift of its concealment, and lifting it up to take a look. The pause only lasted for a second, before he was lighting up with joy, and turning to look at you with wide eyes.

He'd been talking about it for months, but he had no idea what it was called, or where he would find it, and he was pretty sure he’d never find it. It was a printer for his earpieces, creating custom little cases that he could put on them, so that the boring piece of plastic that he had to wear in his ear all day, every day, on the casino floor, could finally be something a little more exciting.

“I can’t believe you found it!”

“It wasn’t easy to find, at all. What are you going to print first?” He considered it, staring down at the box, before shrugging his shoulders, mind coming up clear.

Flicking your finger under the edge of the wrapping, it popped loose, and you continued to go, watching as he twisted towards you a little more. It was a set of your favourite skincare products, ones that you’d been running out of and kept intending to get more of but always seemed to forget about somehow, and he’d clearly been browsing the website, because the box was stuffed full of all different types of new products, samples and new things to try, as well as bath bombs and room sprays.

The rest of the gifts followed along much the same pathway, simple gifts that were more practical than special, but meaningful nonetheless. You got him new boxers, with reindeers and baubles on, and he smirked as he gave you a new set of lc that could scarcely be counted as underwear, before following it with a filthy kiss and whispered promises for later.

You got him new cologne with a matching shampoo and body wash set, and he got you a new blazer for work after your last one ripped, and you opened all the gifts from your friends and family that were still sitting there. Your last gift to him has been tap bracelets, ones that he could wear at work for when he was feeling anxious, so that yours would buzz whenever he tapped it, and he got a little teary at the gesture.

As the room was littered with ribbons, bows, and torn paper, he picked up the last gift and waved it a little, the couch bouncing underneath you as he flopped back onto the cushions, sitting beside you. “So, not that those bracelets aren’t amazing - because they are - but they can’t top this. Are you ready for the best gift of the year?”

“I suppose so.” You wiggled your fingers, in a ‘gimme’ motion, and it handed it over. You were no longer delicate with the opening, tearing at the paper roughly to reveal what was inside, and shucking it of the silk that hid it, before lifting it up to get a better look.

It was a scrapbook, a beautiful fake-leather design that had golden-embossed letters across the front. Opening it up, there was a small gasp on your lips, pictures of yourself and Thomas that you’d never seen before, right from the very first hours of your wedding.

You hadn't even put on your dress yet, still standing with your hair pinned back waiting to be styled, make-up half done, and a glass of champagne in hand as you laughed with you friends, a shot clearly taken by one of the girls who’d been with you that morning as you got ready. Another beside it was of Thomas, face red and a slightly panicked look on his features as he stood with his shirt half-buttoned, one shoe in hand as he stared around the room for the other, a note written underneath that Newt had hidden it from him just to fuck with him.

Turning the pages, you found ones that were more professional, outtakes from the photographer that weren’t ones that had ever made the cut, slightly blurry ones or the sun shining across the scene, ones where you weren’t looking or weren’t as visible in crowds, and yet they were perfect. Every glance you had cast Thomas, all the moments between you both that the photographer had somehow seemed to capture, memories you didn’t even realise you had all flooding back, the little moments that weren’t staged or pressured like a first dance, your lips sat parted in awe. They had gone one, too, print outs and pictures from your honeymoon, photos you had taken together, or hadn't realised he had taken at all.

“Did you make this yourself?”

“I had a little help, but mostly, yeah. Is it okay?” He lifted his hand to his face, chewing on his nail lightly as he stared at you, and you reached a hand out, bringing it away from his face, and leaning in a little closer to him. He sighed in relief, sensing where this was going, and moving in close enough to rest his forehead against your own.

“It’s perfect, I love it.”

He let out a little laugh, nodding his head to himself in confirmation, before closing the gap. It was a sweet and soft kiss, one that conveyed everything that needed to be said, and paper crinkled loudly as he shifted, pushing it away to the side, falling to the floor after being removed from where it was pressed between your bodies as he pulled you in closer, and you held his face with both hands, nails scratching lightly at his jaw, freshly shaven and soft skin making him shudder as you scratched at it lightly.

“I love you.”

“I know, I love you too.” His mouth moved, trailing along your skin to your cheek, kisses being pressed all the way along, up your temple to your forehead, and your face screwed up at the ticklish feeling, making him laugh as he felt your features wrinkle under his lips. “Gettin’ on into the day, want to go find something to make for Christmas dinner?”

“Absolutely.”

He stood first, offering his hands out to you and pulling you to your feet when your fingers slid into his and held on tight, and he winked a little, hands slipping around behind you, pinching at your ass cheekily and making you jump, shrugging when you gasped and fixed him with a questioning look. “You’re just hot. Your ass has been looking great lately.”

“You’re so horny, all the time.”

“Because my wife is hot, that’s why.” You rolled your eyes, letting him walk a step ahead of you, and you placed a loud smack on his ass as he went, watching as he turned to face you with a dropped jaw and pink cheeks, grabbing at his own ass for protection as he walked backwards. “You did not!”

“What can I say? You’re just hot. Your ass has been looking great lately.” He mimicked you childishly, a grin taking over his features despite it, and he snatched up both of your hands in his, holding them up high like a revered and feared weapon, dragging you into the kitchen as you stumbled over your own feet.

In the freezer, you had a small batch of chicken, some frozen vegetables and an apple pie. In the fridge, you had some potatoes, and enough spices in the cupboards to make decent gravy. He boiled water while you sliced the potatoes, dropping them in to begin boiling, and turning up the radio to listen to the Christmas songs that were playing. Once your chicken and potatoes were in the oven, you chopped up some veggies for roasting, hearing him clatter around in the cupboards, and he insisted that you stayed turned around to face the counter.

When he finally let you look, there was a tablecloth that you had forgotten you even had laid out, white with a few stains around the edges, and a faded and slightly purple mark in the middle from where wine had been split on it and never property come out before it had been permanently put away, but he’d carefully covered it by placing your vase full of winter flowers in the middle. There was cutlery laid out ready, and bowls and plates, and he was overly proud of himself for the decorations, chairs pulled around a little so that you’d still be able to see one another, instead of being blocked off by the centrepiece.

“So, guess what I found while setting up the table?”

“What did you find, baby?”

The sloshing sound gave it away, before he ever pulled it out from behind his back, and he waved it at you a little. “A super nice bottle of wine that was a wedding present. Wanna’ get us some glasses?”

“Not right now, I don’t want to drink when we’re on video chat with our friends.” His face fell a little, brows raising, before he was fixing you with a quizzical glance, and you laughed, shaking your head at his speculation. “Maybe later, okay? I’m having a great time with you right as we are. Besides, don’t you think wine that special is more of a late-night drink, when we’re watching a movie, all alone? Don’t you want to save it for some fun later?”

You dragged a nail along his chest, catching lightly on the fabric on his shirt, and he followed it with his gaze, licking at his lips and nodding his head. “Shit, you’re totally right.”

“Mhm, always am.” You grinned, and he scoffed, but pecked your lips, offering his agreement to you, and placing the bottle down on the counter.

The clock ticked over, half an hour until four o’clock, and you started off the mashed potatoes on reheating, and the rest of the food on cooking, and you had everything that you needed to have a meal. You worked together to clean up the living room, scooping up all the leftover scraps, and you vacuumed all the sparkles that were going to get stuck in the carpet. Once you were finished, you settled down together on the couch, laptop set up before you, and waiting for the group to become active, and to click through onto the camera.

Thomas was pressed up to your side, arm stretched out along the back of the couch behind you, fingers brushing against your shoulder, waiting as everybody joined, until noise was filling your living room, seeing everybody else light up.

As the evening went on, you listened to each of them talk about what they’d done with their day, and show off their presents, and the men had been overly excited to see how their scrapbooking efforts had gone down, Minho complaining about the paper-cuts he’d gotten at every possible chance there was.

You were drunk on the feeling of pure joy, hearing your friends laugh and share stories, the sadness that you’d held about not being able to see your friends ebbing away to be replaced with simple happiness, at getting to hear what their days had entailed despite it. Brenda had dropped an entire tray of roast potatoes, and they had to start again, Minho had fed his dog turkey and vegetables, and the sweet little puppy had thrown it up on his foot after getting over-excited about playing fetch ten minutes later, and Newt had accidentally spilt the water at the bottom of his tree and almost lost an eye on the lower branches while mopping it up. There was a graze just below his left eye.

They shared their gifts, and got progressively more drunk, and some of the other families even stopped by at some points to give a wave, and well-wishes, and talk with you for a quick moment. It was lovely, and perfect in its own way, and when it had been over, you’d been hesitant to end the call at all and let them go. As the screen of the computer had gone black, you’d turned to your lover, legs swung across his lap and cuddling in a little closer as the temperatures began to drop down once again, awe evident on your features as snow was beginning to flutter down once again.

The look on his face was soft as you brushed the strands of hair back and out of his eyes, before they were fluttering shut upon feeling your thumb brushing over his cheek. Your dinner was only minutes away from being ready, and you were content in one another’s company, simply letting the day drain away as you soaked up how it felt just to be the two of you, spending your first Christmas in a home you owned, as a married couple, with everything in the world to look forwards to. Resting your cheek on his shoulder, his arms tightened around you leaning back and into the cushions comfortably, as the two of you sat in loving silence.

The oven-timer dinged, and you were hesitant to move, a groan on your lips, lingering a few minutes longer, before you shifted, his grip on your loosening as you got up. The smell of freshly cooked food filled the air, steam pouring out of the oven from the second that it was opened, and it drifted around you as you began to pull out the trays, hearing your husband clattering around behind you as he gathered plates and cutlery.

Bumping his hip against yours as he came to stand behind you, he had a spoon in his hands, laying the plates out and beginning to dish up the vegetable as you stood beside one another, serving up food in comfortable silence. Warmth was pouring off of the man, he’d always felt like a human space heater, always making it extra comfortable to be wrapped up in his arms, and you were tempted to just fall into his grip right now, but resisted, your stomach rumbling happily as your meal came together.

Leaving all of the equipment stacked up in the sink, that was definitely something you could deal with later, Thomas taking his seat first, leg reached out under the table as he pushed your chair out for you, fingers twitching atop the table cloth as he tries to resist the urge to start eating until you were ready. Placing a glass down for him, you were drinking water yourself, and Thomas raised his brows, accepting the drink you were holding out for him, eyes flicking to the counter.

“No wine?”

“I have plans for the wine later.” You teased, one eye dropping in a wink, and pink spread over his cheeks in an adorable blush, despite him being a cocky as he always was, and his lips twisted up in a slight smirk.

“Oh, yes, I almost forgot that you’d promised me one more gift.” His eyes dropped down for a second, scanning along what he could see of your body above the table, before stabbing at some of the vegetables on his plate and chewing on them happily. It was an odd mix of foods, making the best of your Christmas dinner that you could, and yet, it was one that you’d always remember and be able to tell as a story at parties and to friends in the future, a Christmas that you’d never forget.

This year was undoubtedly the biggest one to ever change your life, a turning point, not just the start of a new chapter, but the ending of one book and the beginning of a whole new one. “We got married this year.”

Thomas glanced up, pausing with his fork halfway to his mouth, and you saw the look of mischief flash through his eyes before his lips had even quirked up into a smirk around the words he was forming; “I know. I was there, or do you not remember?”

“Oh, hush.” You frowned, rolling your eyes at him, and he stretched out under the table, toes poking against your foot, before you stretched back, locking your ankle with his own, and he continued to eat as he waited for you to expand on your point. “I just mean, well, look at us. We have a house, and we’re married, and it’s all just ours. We made it all ourselves. Five years ago, I would’ve been at my parents’ house eating turkey and listening to my cousins bitch about how I shouldn’t still be single.”

“Five years ago, I would’ve been drunk by now, listening to Minho flirt with his holi-date and listening to Newt pine after hot magazine models, while I pictured you and how much I loved you, and I didn’t even know your name yet.” Your breathing got stuck a little in your throat, your brows raising at the soft tone in his voice as he placed down his knife and fork across the centre of his plate, shrugging as he leaned back in his seat. “I just knew that one day I’d find the perfect woman; then, a few months later, I met you.”

“I still get butterflies when you tell me you love me.”

“I love you.” He beamed, watching as you squirmed a little in your seat, watching your reaction and knowing the effect he had on you, snickering to himself a little, before sobering up once again. “I still get that tingly feeling when you kiss me sometimes, all the way down to my toes. At the most random of times, like in the milk aisle at the supermarket, or in the bathroom when I'm brushing my teeth.”

“Glad to know I still have that effect on you.” You took a sip of your water, smirking over the rim of your glass at him, and he just continued to stare, a lazy and distant kind of look on his face, and you could tell that his mind had slipped far away, lost in his thoughts, but it was nothing that you weren’t used to. You finished up your own food, and sat with him for a while in silence, fading in and out of your thoughts, slipping to and from for a while, until the chair grew uncomfortable, and you stood up, stretching your limbs out and shaking yourself down.

He watched you go, sighing a little as he did, and taking your outstretched hands when you offered them to him. As he stood, you went from looking down at him to looking up, and he leaned down, just enough to bump his nose against your own.

“Wanna’ go cuddle on the couch with a blanket?”

“Don’t have to ask me twice.” He teased, pushing you a little toward the doorway. “Go find a blanket and pick out a movie, I’ll put everything in the dishwasher and set it off, I’ll be there in two minutes, okay?”

“M’kay.” You whispered, pushing up onto the tips of your toes long enough to steal a kiss from his lips, and he pressed back eagerly upon feeling your mouth against his own. Hands on your waist pushed you back, his lips still puckered as he pulled away, urging you to go and get comfortable. The kitchen tiles were chilled underfoot as you walked away, and the floorboards were still cold to the touch too, but the carpets of the living room were a little warmer, and as you picked up the knitted blanket that was rolled up on the back of the couch.

Wrapping it over your shoulders, you grabbed the remotes, turning on the TV and waiting for the channels to adjust, before you were loading up Netflix to scroll through the Christmas movies. Thomas was clattering about in the kitchen, the sounds of cutlery scraping on plates and of them being loaded into the racks, set up to be washed. As you settled on one, you heard him toying with the controls, beeping signalling that the machine had started up on cleaning the dishes used, and the flooring creaked under every step he took, before the cushions were dipping and caving beside you as he settled down at your side.

Wrapping an arm over your shoulders, he pulled you back into his chest, letting you get comfortable as he did, spreading one leg out along the couch, and one remaining where it was, planted on the floor for support as you settled back into his chest, lips brushing across your head. “I chose us a movie to watch.”

“Whatever you want is fine with me, baby.”

“Such a sap.” You mumbled, receiving a teasing squeeze around you in retaliation for your words as you pressed play, and feeling him tugging at the blanket a little until you shed it, spreading it out over your lap and his legs, until both of you were tucked snugly underneath it, the beginning credits beginning to play.

Yo almost dozed off only a few minutes in, a combination of feeling so full and content, loved and safe in the arms of the man you loved. One hand was sitting in your lap, fingers waived with your own loosely above the covers, while the other was sitting underneath the edge of your shirt, sitting over your stomach, holding you anchored to him.

You barely registered the movie playing, more caught up in your mind over everything you found yourself with, every situation and scenario, every night being able to go to bed alongside the man you loved, and waking up to him in the morning.

Only a few years ago, you were alone, with no idea you were about to meet the love of your life. Then, you’d started a new job, and met a sweet security guard with a cocky attitude and a heart of gold, and he’d stolen your heart right out from under you while sweeping you off of your feet, even when you hadn't planned for it to happen. You had thought you were happy, that you were content with being single and focusing on yourself, and yet, just by being himself, he had somehow become everything you wanted and needed.

You wouldn’t change it for the world.

Halfway through, Thomas had grown bored of sitting quietly, as he usually did, his fingers stroking a little over your skin as he tried to grab your attention, and his lips moving along your shoulder, the ti of his nose stroking stray strands of hair out of his way, until he could get to the column of your throat.

His teeth nipped a little at your flesh, just enough to tease, a light laugh falling from you as you trembled in his arms a little bit, and you twisted around to face him, straddling his lap as you did, and he smiled up, hands coming to sit on your hips as yours sat on his shoulders, thumbs smoothing over the base of his neck. “Bored, Tommy?”

“Little bit. This film kinda’ sucks.”

You tried to suppress the snort of a laugh that you wanted to release, nodding your head as you knew it to be true. It wasn’t the greatest, but it was new and trending on Netflix, and so had given it a go. Shifting out of his hold, he whined a little as you went, but watched you walk away, scooping up one of the boxes you’d given him, and bringing it back over, shaking it excitedly. “Why don’t you try your new gift out, huh? I’ll help you pick something to print!”

He stood up to meet you, nodding his head and taking it from your hands, before trying to undo the tape sealing the box shut, and tipping the components out onto the couch.

“I’ll take everything else to the bedroom, you get it set up, ‘kay?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He teased, offering you a little wink, before he was padding across to one of the only remaining empty sockets now they were filled with Christmas lights and decorations, and sitting down on the carpet, legs crossed as he plugged it in and reached back for the instruction booklet.

Grabbing the remaining boxes and bags, you made your way through the house, backing through the door and pushing it open with your butt, before using your elbow to flick on the bedroom light. The boxes were stacked in the corner, everything else sitting on top, a job to be dealt with in the morning. The beautiful leather-bound album that was sitting on top of them all had the embossed lettering glittering under the light, and you picked it up, taking a seat on the bed and placing it down in your lap.

It was physical proof of the love between you both, a record of every moment that you’d been able to map throughout your wedding, your relationship coming to an ultimate peak, and blossoming into something even more incredible. Every page brought you a little closer to tears, as you realised just how much you loved him, and how you wouldn’t be who you were anymore without him. Placing the beautiful album back down, you grabbed the final bag, discarding the tissue paper and pushing the bedroom door closed a little more, a smirk on your lips.

You could hear whispered curses and mumbles coming from your husband as he tried to work out how to operate the machine you’d bought him, and you slipped your clothes from your body, dropping them into the laundry hamper. It only took you a moment to rub a freshly scented moisturiser over your body, skin still smooth and clean from the last shower you’d had, and a few spritzes of the perfume you knew drove your lover mad.

Taking off the pretty tags form the new lacy set laid out on the covers, you slipped the garments onto your body, suspenders clipping once you’d pulled the stockings up your legs, and your breasts were swollen in the bra, and you couldn't deny how good you looked, and felt. Once you were dressed, feet moving softly on the floorboards as you returned to the living room, you ran a hand through your hair, messing it up just enough to be sexy, and leaning on the doorframe.

“You figure it out yet, baby?”

“Almost.” He mumbled, never looking up, and you waited, brows raising a little when he continued to be completely preoccupied with the task at hand. He placed the booklet between his teeth, a huff on his lips as he tried to press a series of buttons again, only for it to beep and flash red at him, and he huffed, not noticing you making your way towards him.

“Little cold in here, don’t you want to warm up?”

“Blanket is still on the couch.”

You grinned, thrilled to know he was enjoying your gift so much, but ready for him to be busy with something else for a little while. Placing a finger under his chin, you twisted his head toward you, his eyes finally leaving the device he’d been tinkering with, and his jaw dropped. The paper fell from his mouth and fluttered away, his eyes dragging along you slowly, down to your feet before moving back up to your face, and then it was all the way down once again. He took in every feature, eyes lingering on the pace where your stockings were held up, the soft flesh there, his fingers twitched a little before he was taking in the intricate lace detailing covering you.

“Holy fuck, baby.” He put the device down, twisting to face you, moving to kneel instead of sitting, and his hands hooked onto the back of your legs, fingers flexing against your calves. You’re so fuckin’ beautiful.”

He leaned in to press a kiss to the exposed skin of your upper thigh, an equally wet one to match on the other side, kneeling before you as he kissed at your flesh slowly, dragging the tip of his nose over the front of your covered core, just above where your would’ve really wanted him, and your hand slipped into his hair. His fingers were kneading at your muscle as he worked his way up, until he was taking handfuls of your barely covered ass in his hold, beginning to stand slowly, kissing his way up your body with every inch that he rose upwards, until he was standing fully before you.

Your head tipped back as he sucked on your neck, working to leave a pretty mark on the junction between your throat and shoulder, his hands smoothing over your sides, until he could squeeze at your breasts, making you arch up into his body, a chuckle washing over your skin.

“Jump for me, angel.”

He caught you as you did, more than experienced in the act, lifting you up into his arms as your legs wrapped around his waist, never once stumbling or tripping as he guided you to the bedroom, never letting up on his assault along your neck. Your back met the covers, pressing you down into the soft material carefully, letting you inch your way up until your head was in the pillows as he crawled after you, body covering your own.

Finally, you pulled his mouth to meet yours, a hot and wet kiss, long overdue and sorely needed, his teeth all but clashing with your own from the intensity of it.

He held himself up above you with both hands, his body pressing to your own as one thigh came up to settle between your legs, a whimper leaving you, swallowed by him as the muscle pressed against your already wettening core. When you finally ran out of breath, he shifted his kisses along your jaw, nipping as he went, and you knew that there would be red patches and dark bruises to follow, the slight scrape of his stubble along your skin making you tremble a little underneath him, and your hips bucked up against him.

“S’okay, sweetheart. Go ahead, rub up on my thigh, I know you want to.” His words washed over your jaw in hot breaths, a whine leaving you, before you were doing exactly as he’d offered, hips beginning to roll up against him. The friction sparked something in your gut, a soft sigh leaving you, pressing down harder with each movement you made, seeking out the climax that was slowly beginning to build. As you did, Thomas was shifting further and further down your body, pulling out the ribbons and strings that were holding the lace closed around your body, each bow delicately undone revealing a little more of your body to him. “You look so hot in this. I have good taste.”

He caught your eyes, just for a second, but long enough to wink at you to follow his comment, before he was kneeling back, sitting on his heels and pulling you up alongside him. Settling you in his lap, your arms looped around his neck, legs kneeling on either side of his waist, sitting atop his thighs, a whine leaving you as you could no longer grind against his thigh.

Rough hands on your hips centred you across him, licking over his lips to bite down on his lower lip as he pushed you down against the bulge in his sweats, a quick breath expelled as you did, and his eyes seemed to darken even further, twinkling in the low light pouring in from the corridor.

One arm wrapped around your waist to support you as you leaned back from him, a grunt spilling out as you pressed down harder into him, his cock throbbing through the material against your centre. As you flicked on the lamp, warm light flooded over the room, lighting it up enough for you to see one another, casting shadows over you both that sharpened his features, catching the golden flecks within his eyes as he looked at you.

“Do you feel what you do to me, angel? Pretty lady in my lap, all dolled up in lace. You’re incredible.”

“You have the same effect on me, don’t you worry.” You whispered, leaning in to catch his lips with your own again in a slower kiss. He was holding you to him tightly, mouth working with yours in the slow rhythms that you set, perfectly willing to take all the time in the world, because you had nowhere else to be except right here, with one another. Tracing your tongue song his lip, he let out a soft sound as he parted his lips for you, head twisting to the side so that he could dip into you a little further, tongue exploring your mouth as though he’d never kissed you in such a way before, butterflies rising in your stomach at the delicate way in which he held you.

Tugging at the hem of his shirt, you inched it up along his body, legs tightening around him to hold yourself steady as his arms raised over his head to let you strip it away, before he was peeling the lingerie from your body down, letting it pool around your waist as his shirt fell away from your hands to the floor, discarded for the time being. The second your upper body was able to him, you were being laid back into the bedding, letting him follow after, your head resting a month the pillows, hands on his cheeks to hold his kiss to you, legs wrapping around him as you did.

Fingers inched along your body, the muscles in your stomach fluttering as he did, until they were slipping under the fabric, pushing the crotch of your panties aside to tease a finger through your slick folds. His lips twisted up against your own, a smile that was borderline a smirk against your lips, and his forehead met your own as he pulled back.

“I love knowing I can get you like this.” His lips still brushed against yours as he spoke, a single digit slipping into your entrance, and you arched up into him as the pad brushed along your walls slowly. He set a steady pace, picking up speed as he went, your jaw dropping a little, breath shared between you both as he moved.

He was taking his time, what you had expected would be fast and rough was turning out to be slow and passionate. You’d expected him to take one look at you in the pretty little number he’d bought you and almost tear it right off of you, to fuck you senseless until you were tearing up his back and screaming out loud enough that you’d bother the neighbours if the houses were connected, but instead, you were getting a night of lovemaking and torturous teasing.

A second finger prodded at your entrance, slipping into you with ease as your slick coated his fingers, arousal flowing from you without difficulty, and a cry of his name was dragged for your lips the second he crooked them while buried deep within you. “That’s right, baby. Call my name.”

“Tommy, please, stop teasing me!”

“Tell me what you want, baby love.” He pecked your lips sweetly as you whimpered, fingers slowing even more within you, deep and penetrating movements each time, though, your breath shallow in your lungs as your head began to spin and stomach began to tighten. “Use your words, pretty girl.”

The way his voice had twisted into something a little darker, something condescending that made you cry out, because it was just enough to leave you desperate and gasping as he dominated over you. “More. Faster, harder, anything, I just need more.”

“Yeah? I can do that for you.” He scissored his fingers as he pulled out, stretching your entrance to warm you up, that delicious burn creating a dull ache that was chased away by pure lust, your body shaking as he plunged his fingers back into you. He took it up, doing just as you’d asked, your eyes rolling back into your head with every subtle scrape of his blunt nails against your wall as he fucked your roughly onto his fingers, a filthy sound filling the room as he worked, your hips rocking up into his palm as you tried to meet his motions, clit rubbing against his palm through the layers of bunched up and pushed aside materials that blocked your entrance form him. “Feel you squeezin’ my fingers, angel, so tight. Just like you do when you’re wrapped around my cock. You want that?”

“Yes, yes, I do! Please!”

You could barely form words, the looming climax that was hanging over your head was making you dizzy, and he chuckled, kissing at your jaw, sucking what would become a dark bruise onto the hinge of your jaw, licking wetly over it once he was finished, and blowing cool breath over the wet patch, watching you tremble underneath him. “Tell me what you want, pretty baby. Use your words, or have I fucked you stupid, already?”

A growl on your lips, despite the fact that you’d never speak up, because every time he took on this kind of personality with you it drove you insane, and so you leaned dup inside, catching his lower lip in your teeth and tugging a little, a much louder and more threatening growl in return. His motions stilled, fingers buried deep inside of you, pads pushed up against your g-spot, the pressure making your entire body twitch and tremble at the stimulation, gasping out in need as you groaned.

“I said, use your words, not get sassy with me.”

“You stopped, don’t stop. I’m close, Tommy.” Your fingers brushed over his wrist, trying to get him to move, but he tutted, shaking his head, the tip of his nose brushing over yours.

“Use your words, honey, and you can have whatever you want.” He pulled his fingers out of you, a dirty sound following, and you cried out in distaste, before he was sucking on his fingers, and watching you carefully.

Heat flushed over your face as you watched him, tongue lapping at his fingers noisily as he cleaned them of your arousal, waiting for you to speak up with what you wanted, and you had to force yourself past your shyness, watching his eager enthusiasm as he stared you down, brows raised and waiting with a sultry look on his face. Kneeling back, he settled between your parted thighs, one finger snapping the soaked lace back into place over your folds, and your body jerked at the sting, legs snapping shut as a short but loud moan sounded from you as he did.

He grinned as he felt your thighs clamp around him a little, large hands smoothing up over your legs, undoing the clips that were holding up your stockings, eyes fixed on yours as he moved, in no hurry.

“Tommy..”

“Yes, my love? You got something to say to me?”

You pushed up on your hands, propping yourself up before him, and his eyes dropped down to the swell of your tits momentarily, caught in awe momentarily, and the confidence it gave you rushed through your body. “I want you to fuck me, Tommy. Fast and rough, real good, like I know you can. Make me scream, Thomas.”

“See? Now that wasn’t that hard, was it?” His hands hooked into the rest of the fabric, yanking it down your hips and off of your body, throwing it away to the floor. Calloused palms landed on your knees, pushing your thighs apart, and your body collapsed back into the bedding. “That’s all you had to say.”

You sneered a little, jumping as he pinched at the sensitive skin on the inside of your thigh, before he was standing from the bed, palming at his evident erection through the worn thin cotton of his sweats, a slight wet mark forming on the front of his pants from the precum dribbling from his cock, before he was pushing them away down his legs. They pooled at his ankles, kicked away, and you reached out to him, curling a finger as you beckoned him closer to you.

Instead, he caught your hand, pulling your hand in towards him a little and curling your fingers around his length, a breathy sigh leaving him as you took the hint and pumped him slowly. Swiping the pad of your thumb over his head, he hissed a little as you brushed across the slit on his cock, collecting up the wetness that was beading there, and pulling your hand away, sucking the digit between your lips as he watched through half-lidded eyes.

Rolling down onto the bed beside you, the mattress dipped under his weight, bounding you up into his body, and he took your momentarily elevated height as an opportunity to press a rough kiss to your lips, one hand tangling in your hair. The taste of your own essence was spread to your lips, matching the salty taste of his arousal still lingering along your lips, making everything seem even more erotic.

Lining himself up, you felt him gasp into your mouth as he sank into your awaiting heat, your breath forced from your lungs as you felt him stretch you out in a way that had always worked so perfectly, the two of you syncing up in perfect harmony just the way you always did, his cock sitting snugly between your walls. He filled you up, a delicious friction with every ridge within you that dragged against him, every pulse he made making you pulse around him, a connection so deep and intimate that it made you flush every single time it happened.

One of your hands sat on his shoulders, the other weaving into his hair to scratch at his scalp lightly. “Kiss me, Thomas.”

“Thought you wanted me to make you scream?” He whispered, leaning down enough to catch your lips with his, not waiting for your response, soft kisses that seemed completely fractured from the moment, out of place or wrong, and yet completely and utterly right. Drags of lips over your own, making your racing heart skip a beat on your chest at the tenderness of the way he held you, your hand tightening in his hair until he groaned a little as you tugged on the strands, and your lips were stinging a little when he pulled back, his own red and swollen to match.

“I do want that, I just wanted some lovin’ first.”

“I'm always lovin’ on you, baby.” He smiled, stealing a final kiss from your lips, before he was pulling out, every inch of him dragging over your inner walls, pausing for only a second to prolong your sensual suffering, before he was slamming into you. A rough thrust that made every nerve within you light up, and you barely had time to process your own thoughts, to take a breath or cry out his name, before he was repeating the action.

The hand in his hair twisted even tighter, pulling on the soft strands as you held onto him, trying to ground yourself down to the earth. Every time together and you feel like you were floating in the clouds, reaching heaven with every thrust he delivered. The telltale signs of another climax were beginning to show, the coil in your stomach tightening and your body was lighting up with fire.

Cupping his face, your thumb smoothed over his cheek, feeling him lean into you, before he was slowing down for only a second in order to pull your hand down pinning it to the bed and lacing his fingers with your own. The tip of his cock was pressing up to the sweet spot inside of you, your back arching up, sweat beading along his skin with the speed of which he was filling you up, the sound of skin on skin filling the room. “You’re always so damn tight, honey. Love the way you feel.”

You could only nod, the stretch of him tucked within you making every thought in your head seem to evaporate, and your hand slipped along his shoulder to his back. Nails digging into pale flesh, tearing tracks in mole-speckles skin that would show up red and raw, and he pressed up into your touch, the slightly biting pain being something that you knew he loved, especially when he really wanted to go wild. A deep noise in his throat, something between a groan and a growl, before he was pulling back, both hands slipping down your body.

He started at your chest, large hands cupping around and plump tits in his hands, groping tightly until you keened up into him with a whine, your hips rolling to meet his movements as he kept them going. You could barely breathe, the weight of your oncoming peak was crushing you, while burning you from the inside out and as though he had sensed it, he slowed down, barely moving now, letting you fuck yourself against him as you tried to coax him into action, but it was of no use.

Dipping down, he caught one stuff nipple between his teeth, a light nip that made you cry out, a sound that was high-pitched and sharp as your head spun, sense and focus fading away as your vision grew fuzzy, walls clamping around him. His mouth closed further over your breast, sucking the supple flesh into his mouth, teeth grazing soft skin as his tongue lapped leisurely at the buds that were standing taut for him, and he knew exactly how to press all of your buttons, years of experience working well for him. The other hand furthered your pleasure by toying with the mound on the other side of your chest, skilled fingers tugging and taunting until you couldn't take it anymore.

Your second orgasm of the night, spurred on simply by his obsession with your breasts, and yet it hadn't been the first time he would make you come simply by playing with them, and it wouldn't be the last.

“So reactive for me, sweetheart. How do you feel, hm?”

He pulled away, chin and cheeks a little shin from his own spit, a cold breeze sweeping over your chest, and he dipped down, giving the other the same treatment, without quite as much ferocity, and you could barely form words as you tried to reply, to tell him how good he always made you feel, but there wasn’t any competent ability left within you.

“Oh, have I fucked all the sense out of your pretty little head, huh?” You could only nod, watching as his ego inflated a little more before your very sights, his eyes sparkling with mischief and chest puffing out. One hand dragged along your stomach as he sat back fully, fingers spreading out across your stomach, his gaze following, and you grinned, watching as he did so. “How about I fuck something into you, huh?”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.” He bit down on his lip, his cock pulsing within you, and you longed to know just what kind of images were going through his head that had garnered a reaction like that, and soon, his mouth was opening to spill it all to you, without you even needing to ask; “Thinkin’ ‘bout how pretty you’d look all swelled up with my baby in you, tits getting bigger, ready to feed our kid. Prettiest mom on the whole damn block, you’d be. All mine, making our family, one of these next Christmases, maybe they’ll be little feet wandering around, or you’ll be all around, ready to pop, give me a son or daughter, huh?”

“That what you want? You wanna’ put a baby in here, huh?” For emphasis, you squeezed around him, a threatening sound making itself known as a warning glare was mixed upon you, one that only fueled the inferno raging within you as you teetered on the building of your next peak. “Big talk, think you can live up to the hype? Been months now, you still haven’t knocked me up, Tommy. Better get to it.”

“You’re circling dangerous ground, baby. Better watch your fuckin’ mouth.” He hissed, leaning back over you, a dark look stitching into his features and you shrugged, trying to calm your heart as it threatened to break your ribs and burst right out of your chest.

“I don’t know, I’m just saying. Maybe, you’re not fucking me good enough.”

“Oh, I’m gonna’ show you who fucks good enough. I don’t want you to be able to walk or talk after this, I want your throat so torn up your attitude is kept inside.” Red flushed along his face, right down to his neck, and excitement was bursting through your body. With rough hands on your hips that would leave dotted bruises on your flesh come morning, you were flipped over, your stomach pressing into the bedding.

You gasped, his hands smoothing up along your back, before he was leaning over you, dripping and wet cock pressed to your thigh as he pinned you down to the bed. Hot breath washed over your cheek, before he was biting lightly on your earlobe, the bed dipping on either side of you as he knelt over you, and you pushed back into him. Rolling your hips up, he growled a little, pressing you back down into the bed even more.

“Behave, sweetheart, or I’m not letting you come until you’re crying for it.”

You stilled, going stiff at the simple threat, and he chuckled, pressing a wet kiss to the back of your shoulder, hands tracing up along your arms as he trusted you to keep them in place. Settling behind you, a loud smack was placed to your ass, the skin stinging deliciously as the patch flared up with heat, feeling him palm at the patch as he soothed it over a little, a yelp tearing from you when he repeated the action on the opposite side without warning, and you bit down on your lip just to muffle the sounds.

Your hips were pulled up, before hands on your shoulders were following, pulling you up until you were kneeling before him, a hand smoothing around your waist. He patted lightly at your stomach, rubbing over it carefully. His hands then dipped further down, two fingers parting your folds, rubbing lightly at the button nestled between your thighs, and your hips jumped up into his hand, a shaky sound emitted from you.

“C’mon, Tommy, it’s Christmas. Stop teasing me.”

“Okay, sweetheart, since you asked so nicely.” He mumbled, fingers dragging up your body, wet trails of your own arousal left on your skin, before he was slipping them between your lips. You sucked tightly, the taste of your own slick covering your tongue as you lapped at the digits, cleaning them off as he hummed happily into your ear, chin hooked over your shoulder. Your hand slipped down between your bodies, lining him up behind you, before he was easing into you.

His groan in your ear was drowned out by the loud mewls that you let out, fluttering and overly sensitive walls welcoming him back, gripping onto him tightly as he sank his full length within you. The second he was within you, his fingers were leaving your mouth, pushing you back down until your cheek was flush to the bedding, fingers digging into the blanket and nails threatening to tear at it as he wasted no time.

Hips snapping into your own, a bruising pace that would leave you with that ache between your thighs that always made you shake in the morning to follow as you remembered the way that he’d fucked you into oblivion. The sounds you were making were sure to be echoing off of every wall in the house, your throat raw, and you pushed back into him each time, trying to meet his motions, but the pace he was setting was far too fast, and your movements were sloppy in comparison. Your chest was tightening, every muscle in your body going stiff, and your fingers became fists as you tried to hold out a little longer, to not give in as quickly as you thought you might.

You could feel him nearing his edge, the husk of his voice getting a little deeper, cracking each time he edged closer to his own orgasm, his cock throbbing within your walls as he fucked you into the bed. One hand tangled in your hair, tugging at the roots as he pulled back your head, screams loud and uninterrupted for him to hear.

“That’s right, baby, nice and loud.” He tugged you back even further, a sharp cry in pain that made everything go into overdrive, before your back was pressing to his chest. One hand came to seal around your throat. Squeezing lightly, your noises cut off, going silent in your throat as your vision spotted. “Tell me again, baby, who doesn’t fuck you good enough?”

Your mouth opened again, no sounds coming out, simple squeals as he loosened his grip a little. The other hand was on your waist, gripping so hard that the area was beginning to tingle, blunt nails pressing into your skin, and your climax began washing over you. Your jaw going slack, your eyes rolled back as your head sat on his shoulder, and your screams had gone completely silent as white heat shot through your body. Every nerve lit up in your body, like fireworks going off in your core. He didn’t stop there, fingers slipping down to rub at your clit, your body jerking in his grip as broken gasps spilt out.

Sparks ran all along your body, tears lining your eyes as he abused the bud with his rapid-paced motions, and a scream tore from you as that same climax became doubly as strong, bliss taking you over as you felt boneless. He didn’t let up, not until your cheeks were wet and you were going limp in his arms, legs slick from your gushing arousal. When you couldn't take it anymore, crying in his grasp, he let you go, your entire body quivering while you settled on the mattress. His cock slipped from you for only a second as you were turned over in his arms.

He all but collapsed down on top of you, face pressed into your neck, chest pressed up to yours and you could feel his heart thudding against his chest and straight through to your own. With a few final thrusts, weak and desperate, he stiffened, ribbons of hot cum pumping out with your walls, making you whimper just at the feeling that would never be anything other than otherworldly bliss as he filled you to the brim.

“Fucking hell, I’ll never get used to that.” He mumbled, words muffled by where he was still pressed up against you, nose nuzzling into your hair, and your arms wrapped around him. He hissed a little, feeling your fingers smoothing along his body and brushing over the raw rips along his flesh, made by your nails in the heat of pleasure.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s hot as hell.” He teased, making to roll over when he felt you trying to laugh underneath him, and you squeaked as he took you with him, rolling your exhausted body up and on top of him. His hands found your hips, holding you down firmly onto him when you wiggled back towards the bedding. “Where do you think you’re going, huh?”

“Preferably onto the cool blankets. I love you, but you’re hot and sweaty, and so am I.” You mumbled, pressing yourself up over him, and his hands ran up and down your sides lightly, shrugging as he did. His hair was messy, skin flushed and shining with sweat, accompanied by swollen lips, looking like pure sin as he lounged beneath you.

“Nuh-uh, angel. I told you I was going to fuck a baby into you, and we’re not letting a drop go. Stay right where you are, keepin’ my cock nice and warm, and keeping you full of cum.” As if to emphasise his point, he tugged you down into him, and you chuckled as you found yourself leaning against a slightly sticky shoulder, nails scratching at the hairs on his chest as you tried to catch your breath properly. “Guess I gave you another kind of white Christmas, huh?”

You couldn’t contain your laughs, your body shaking a little above him as the pair of you snickered at his joke, yours out of exhausted embarrassment and his out of genuine humour and pride. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You love it.”

“Hm, I didn’t marry you for your bad jokes, they were just an addition that I got burdened with.” You teased, a light spank landing on your ass, before both hands were settling on your cheeks, squeezing lightly, before he was jiggling gently, entertaining himself with those basic actions, your cheeks heating up and eyes rolling a little. “Having fun there?”

“A lot, actually. I love your ass.”

“Yes, well, not that I’m not used to it, but how long do you want me to lay here?” You mumbled, hand smoothing out over his chest, slipping around to sit on his side over his ribs instead, and snuggling down a little more to get comfortable.

“Just ‘til you’re pregnant.”

“Oh, great.” You teased, finding him puffing his chest up underneath of you, one of your fingers ping at his chest. “Excited to be a daddy?”

His half-hard cock twitched within you interestedly, and he groaned. “Don’t you dare ruin that word for me.”

“Which word?” You mused, one hand on his cheek, kissing along his stubbled jaw, up to his ear, licking lightly at the shell as he trembled under your touch. “Do you mean ‘daddy’?”

“Baby, please, stop it!” He whined a little, and you hummed, before pressing back a little along him, his length hardening with you as your hips rocked back into his own. He grunted, hold tightening on your body, but never stopping you, letting you rock back into him. Your clit was pressed up to his pelvis from this angle, a perfect friction for every grind, and he whined a little when you propped yourself up even more.

Nails digging into his chest, he stared up at you, tits bouncing and skin glowing in the dull light of the room, hair messy to match his, and you felt beautiful under his stare, watching as he licked at his lips, jaw gaping and eyes scanning along your body.

He eventually settled on the place where the two of you were connected, the simple rolls of your hips becoming more, as you settled into your position of riding his cock, bouncing up and down along his length, and beads of creamy cum leaked from you as you did. You could feel it, the mixtures of both of your arousals leaking from your body, a stick messy dotting the dark hairs curled at his base, before he was reaching a hand down, thumb pressing loosely to your clit, making bored motions as his other hand reached out.

You knew exactly what he wanted, the way his lips puckered, hips thrusting up to meet yours as he grew lazy underneath you, his eyes hooded and dark, a smirk on his lips, before he was bringing your mouth down to his.

Sloppy kisses that barely met the mark as such, his teeth dragging over your lips, tongues clashing and tangling together in wet knots as you moaned into his mouth, sounds quietened by one another as the sounds of teenage-style making out filled the room instead.

It was messy, and filthy, and completely effortless, but as you shook above him, a much lighter climax washing through your body, the final bit of energy that you had being spent, he chased after you, giving you what last he had, until it was dribbling out of you.

“Fuck, you’re going to be the death of me.” He whispered, never letting up on his kisses, rolling you over a little as you tried to pull away to catch your breath, his mouth following in an unceasing assault against your own, giggles filling the air as he did. One leg hooked over his hip, the other flattening out, and he let you lay down at last. Pushing him away with one hand, he finally did as told, cock slipping from you, making out whimper a little at the soreness you craved finally being present, and you tried to roll away from the bed.

He reached out, with no energy left, his hand coming into contact with the bedding instead as you stood up. His eyes follow you though, a ridiculous boasting look glimmering in them as he watched his cum drip down your skin, barely being properly cleaned up by the handfuls of tissues you used.

You hadn't even made it two steps away from the bed, before he was reaching out, yanking you back down into the bed beside him, so that he could lay his head across your chest and wrap you up in his arms.

“Tommy, let me up.” You giggled, poking at the man who was half splayed out across you, the covers pulled up loosely over your bodies, pooled around his waist, and he grunted with discontent when your fingers stopped running along his back, nails dragging at his skin soothingly, to instead push at his shoulders. “Thomas!”

“Mh, no. I’m comfy, you’re warm.” His words were whispered, eyes fluttering a little, and you groaned, using all the strength you had to push him off of you and roll him over, placing a pillow to his chest as he reached out to latch onto you. He cracked an eye open when he felt the bed dip, watching as you edged toward the door, feet hitting the ground. “Where’re y’ goin’?”

“I love it when you get clingy and sleepy.” You teased, leaning back down to peck his lips, before making your way to the drawers, grabbing some fresh clothes for yourself, he made a grabbing motion at you, snatching loosely at the clothes you threw to him, catching none of them as they scattered around the messed up bedding around him, and his hand fell back down to the covers. “I have one more present for you.”

“I thought we did all the presents.” He sounded strained, sitting up as you pulled on a robe, tying it at the waist to keep the chill away, and shrugging a shirt onto his shoulders, a tremble running along him in the chill, before reaching for his boxers, watching you inquisitively.

“Well, I had one more. I wanted to do it with our friends, but we didn’t get to, and this gift just wouldn't be the same over the camera. We can tell them at New Years.”

“What does that mean?” There was a playful curiosity in his voice now, and you winked, backing out of the door, and making your way through to the bathroom, and into the cabinet where you kept all of your feminine products, a place Thomas only ever entered upon your request, to retrieve the secret little bag stuffed with wrapping paper that lay within. “Baby, what does that mean?”

“Have some patience!” You yelled back, wiping up a packet of tissues as you went, before padding back along the cool floorboards to the warmed carpet of the bedroom, jiggling it a little at him. He was sitting up now, rubbing at his eyes as he tried to shake himself awake, and you moved to kneel beside his legs, clutching onto it and placing the tissues down onto the bed beside you.

“Is it messy?”

“What?”

He took the package, ribbon on top sealing it shut, and he nodded his head to the packet you’d put down. “The tissues; is it messy? Oh, is it flavoured condoms?” He smirked, your jaw dropping a little as you laughed.

“Would you want to open a packet of flavoured condoms in front of your friends at Christmas Day dinner?”

He cringed, shaking his head. “Okay, you got me. I’m at a loss. Can I open it?”

You nodded, thumb flicking under the packet of the tissues to open them up, watching as he nimbly undid the ribbons, and you pulled one of the soft, folded papers out. Parting the sides of the bag, he stared inside, a single object sitting within, and he squinted at it for a moment as he tried to decipher what he was holding, and what exactly it was said, before his eyes widened.

He flipped it over in his hands, holding it carefully now within two fingers, dropped jaw and watering eyes, before finally looking up to you. “You win.”

“Told you I would.”

“You win this year, you win next year, you just won every Christmas for the rest of our lives.”

“I know.” You teased, watching as a tear dropped from his eye, wiping it away gently, and he trembled a little, bringing his hand up to your wrist to pull your hand away from his face, tugging you in closer.

“It’s real?”

“You think I’d fake it?” You joked, your own eyes watering, and he let out a breathless and shaky laugh.

“And you’re totally sure?”

“I had an appointment the other week to confirm it, they called a few days ago. One hundred percent positive.” He was crying again, snatching the tissues from your hand to instead pull you closer, a needy kiss pressed to your lips, as he tried to calm himself down, to bring himself to earth, and wet cheeks slid against your own, a smile on his lips despite trying to kiss you.

“I’m going to be a dad?”

“Yeah, baby. This is the start of our family.” He pushed you back, rolling you into the bedding as the packaging and gifts were discarded. He pecked your lips one final time, before he was tugging at the knots on the front of your robe and lifting your shirt, hands pressing over your stomach lightly.

His fingers were smoothing over your skin, featherlight touches, complete awe on his face as he stared down at your torso, and he grinned widely, dipping down to kiss at your navel lightly. “I love you so much, little one. I already know you’ll be amazing.”

“It’s about the size of a grain of rice right now, Tommy.” You laughed a little as his hands smoothed around to your sides, cheek pressing to your stomach as he laid down, and your fingers wove into his hair lightly.

“I don’t care, I love them. Boy or girl, whoever they become, they’re perfect.”

“Merry Christmas, Thomas.” You whispered, his eyes meeting yours, chin balanced on your flesh, and he smiled, a kind of content softness that only you ever got to see.

“Merry Christmas, my love.” He turned back, nose nuzzling at your stomach. “And, Merry Christmas to you, little one.”

#thomas #thomas x reader #thomas x reader smut #thomas/reader #thomas/reader smut #12 Days of AUmas #dylan o'brien #dylan obrien #dylan obrien thomas #dylan obrien the maze runner #dylan obrien x reader #dylan obrien/reader #dylan obrien x reader smut #dylan obrien/reader smut

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retrievablememories · 3 years

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the second time around | jaehyun

title: the second time around pairing: jaehyun x reader genre: fluff, some angst request: “Hi! Here’s a suggestion for a story or add-on to another story you wrote. I really liked moonlight w/ jaehyun! Could you do a follow up with him not seeing her for awhile and him (and her secretly) being pissed about it but wants to reconnect with her but outside of being a customer. Ty and keep up the good work with your writing.” word count: 2.9k warnings: a couple mentions of sex a/n: hmm...the sequel to moonlight...sequels are scary to write but here we are lol. this could’ve been posted last sunday really but i’ve been stalling oof

Despite getting Jaehyun’s number after that night at the strip club, you’ve seen and heard a lot less of him than you’d like. On his end, Jaehyun isn’t so pleased about losing touch either, but you wouldn’t know that with the lack of communication.

Both of you are ultimately busy with your own lives, and it’s not like he can just drop in whenever he wants to visit you. Not just because he’s busy, but also because of where you work. The men keep their visits to the club on a once-a-month basis for a reason—to avoid tipping off any stalkers who’d find out and leak their whereabouts.

You’ve texted each other a few times since your first meeting, and you enjoyed the conversations you got to have within that timespan, but the time between responses kept getting longer—on both of your ends—until things eventually dropped off.

You were unhappy about this, though you tried not to be so obvious about it to the other girls. Getting attached to customers was not a good look. Even if they were handsome and nice and had good dick.

However, Anya was the first to notice your slightly sour mood despite your best efforts to project an unphased demeanor. And, being her usual nosy self, she managed to pry it out of you before you could even think about denying it.

“Don’t stress about it,” she’d told you on the night you finally spilled the beans. She’d wrapped her arms around your shoulders and tipped your chin up, making you hold your head up higher and look at yourself in the mirror reflection facing you. “There will be many more men where he came from. And if you don’t wanna deal with any more men right now, that’s fine too. He doesn’t know what he’s missing out on, anyway.”

“I’m not stressing over it,” you’d argued, sighing. “We don’t stress over men who aren’t boyfriends, remember?”

Anya grinned then, though you could tell it was the kind of smile you give when a friend is doing something they shouldn’t be—or indulging in something they think is good for them when it’s not. “Duh. But you might wanna start following your own advice if you’re gonna be dishing it out!” And then she’d gone off to do her own thing, probably to finish getting ready for her set later that night or to go bother one of her favorite bartenders.

You’d looked at yourself in the mirror more closely, frowning at the truthfulness of her statement and wishing you had not been quite so easy to read. You’d had a show right after that, which allowed you to take your mind off the mess for at least a few hours. But in the small moments when you weren’t thinking about work or school or anything else you had to do, Jaehyun crept back into your mind like a specter, wanting you to acknowledge him even though you weren’t getting the same.

When you head out to the parking lot after a particularly long night, you slow your steps when you see a man leaning against his car, his cap pulled over his eyes and his head low. In any other scenario, you probably would’ve alerted one of the bouncers, thinking he was some creep waiting until after your stage to try to corner you in a shady area. However, you hold off on calling anybody because you can clearly recognize him even if he thinks he’s being inconspicuous—it’s Jaehyun.

He lifts his head when he hears your shoes on the ground, and his lips turn up into something of a smile.

“If you wanted another dance, you’re a bit late. We just closed,” you say jokingly, raising an eyebrow at him. Jaehyun shakes his head.

“Tempting idea, but that’s not what I came here for.” He turns to face you fully now, observing you in your casual, after-work clothes. In the back of your mind, you realize this is the first time he’s seen you outside the context of performing. Then he sighs. “It feels like it’s been forever since I’ve seen you.”

“I know.” Your familiar irritation rises again. Sure, maybe him coming to see you or you going to see him more often isn’t feasible. A text or a call, though...would be decidedly less effort, and not difficult to do. You’re not sure whether to be more irritated with him or yourself about not trying to reach out again, though you decide to aim your annoyance at him just because you can.

Jaehyun nods to your agreement. “How have you been?”

“I’ve been fine,” you say. “Work is...work. It has its ups and downs. How are you? Busy with the idol life?”

Jaehyun sighs. “Yeah...it just gets…stressful sometimes.” He bites his lip and shakes his head, seeming bothered about whatever’s going on with his job but not wanting to say much more about it.

“I’m sure,” you respond, and you don’t really know what to say afterwards. It’s been a while since either of you talked, and it’s strangely hard to try to pick up where you left off as if nothing happened. Jaehyun realizes this, too, and appears distressed at not knowing how to keep the conversation going with you—and possibly wasting your time.

You nod to yourself and shift on your feet. “Well, the Uber will probably be here soon, so—”

“I don’t know what things will look like between us, but I don’t want us to fall out of contact again,” Jaehyun blurts out, then winces. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt. I just...don’t want either of us to leave before we...sort this out, I guess.”

You think to yourself, wondering if this is really worth trying to pursue. You’ve yet to deal with a man with the level of fame that Jaehyun has, yet with such a strict image to keep, which makes things exponentially more complicated. But despite your apprehension, you still want to know where this could lead. After a moment, you say, “Well, if you’re willing...I’d like the same.”

Jaehyun nods and stands up a little straighter, like that response just gave him the energy he needed. “Do you wanna….go somewhere? Just to like, hang out.” His proposition is abrupt, and you didn’t expect it.

“Now?” You check your phone, and it’s 18 minutes past 2 a.m. There aren’t too many places that will still be open at this hour, other than establishments similar to your line of work, but you aren’t in the mood for any more of that tonight. Your driver, too, is only a few minutes away, but you already find yourself with your finger hovering over the Cancel button. “We could.”

Jaehyun goes around to the passenger side of the car and opens the door for you. You get into his car, noting its sleek interior. Once he gets in, he asks you what you want to hear, and you notice he’s looking through his Spotify. You shrug.

“I don’t know. Show me something you like,” you say. You cringe at sounding so disinterested, which makes you realize you might just be a little more upset about being ghosted than you thought you were. You almost want to curse at how this dude is taking you off your usual game. “I mean, I like hearing new music anyway, so…”

Jaehyun starts the car and grins slightly. “Alright, then let me show you the best of the best…” You both end up listening and vibing to a playlist he’s made, which is good. Not that you didn’t expect it to be, but you end up liking most of the songs he shows you, which usually doesn’t happen with other people’s playlists.

Jaehyun ends up taking you to an ice cream place that’s still open this late, to your surprise. The sitting area inside the store is closed, though they’ve kept the drive-thru open for late-night travelers like yourselves who want a quick treat. You don’t question it, though; you definitely won’t pass up a chance for some ice cream.

You end up eating the ice cream while sitting in his car and listening to the rest of his playlist. Neither of you say much other than commenting on the songs or talking about your favorite ice cream flavors or making other non-committal small talk. You kind of prefer it this way, at least for the moment—just listening to the music and watching the headlights and taillights of cars that pass by.

You and Jaehyun ride around the city for a while longer after finishing the ice cream, not intending to go anywhere in particular but just coasting on the highways. It might be an excuse to keep listening to this new playlist he’s put on, or maybe more reason to pretend that awkward period between you never happened. Acknowledging it in a way, but not speaking any life into it.

Eventually, though, it has to arise back to the surface. Jaehyun taps his fingers against the steering wheel at a red light, like he’s impatient to get somewhere, and you wonder what he’s feeling until he comes out and says,

“I think it was...ultimately my fault for not contacting you more. Or not trying to stay in contact.”

The words hang in the air for a moment. “Well, I won’t argue with that,” you finally respond.

“It’s just hard to get close to anyone and be an idol at the same time. Sometimes I sabotage myself when I shouldn’t, and…” He trails off, though you don’t know whether he’s searching for the words or has decided to leave his sentence at that.

“You’d rather not be embarrassed by dating a stripper, or something along those lines?” Your tone is nonchalant, though you’re a little bothered by saying it. He wouldn’t be the first or the last person to feel some type of way about your job, though you’ve mostly gotten used to the judgment at this point.

Jaehyun seems a bit startled by the statement. “If you like doing it, then I don’t care what you do. You should live your life however you want to.”

“I see,” you say slowly. “Most men I meet outside of the club are not receptive to it, so you ain’t gotta lie if you feel some other way about it, seriously...”

“I’m serious,” he insists. “You told me that day that you liked it, and I believed you. I just think...we should all be able to do things we enjoy without worrying about what others think of it.”

Jaehyun turns to look at you for a moment, and his features are lit up by the street light as it turns green. His face, which is simultaneously painted with shadows and glowing with light, appears to be just as genuine as he sounds. Or maybe this late-night atmosphere just has you feeling more receptive and sentimental than usual. Then he broaches the next subject carefully, steering you back to where the conversation began. “You didn’t text me anymore, either.”

“I figured you’d moved on or something, maybe started talking to someone else…” you reply. “And, you know, if that was the case...so be it. There wouldn’t be a point to chasing someone who wasn’t interested anymore.”

“I am interested.” Jaehyun rushes the words out, like he’s eager to dispel the uncertainty before you get the wrong idea; not that that hasn’t already happened, but still. It isn’t too late to change your mind. “I want to like, know you as a person...not just while being a customer at the club, or something like that.”

You nod, looking at your hands and considering his words. “We can do that...yeah, we can.” Then you hold your hand out to him, a grin playing on your lips. “Nice to meet you, then. I’m Y/N.”

He smiles too, and takes your hand in one of his. “I’m Jaehyun.”

The conversation after that seems to reach a turning point, like somehow you’ve broken the ice and can finally talk to each other on a deeper level without worrying about the issue that’s been lingering over your heads all night. You think you could talk to him like this for hours if you wanted to, if there was enough time in the world for it.

Unfortunately, though, you don’t have as much time as you’d like, and once it starts edging on 4 AM, you both decide it’s probably best to call it a night. Jaehyun takes you back to your apartment after you tell him where it is.

He parks in front of the apartment complex, and you’re prepared to thank him for the night and get out, but he insists on walking you up to your apartment—something about it being too dangerous for women to walk alone at night.

“It’s not that far.” You laugh, but you aren’t going to argue about it if it means getting a few more moments with him.

Jaehyun follows you up the steps after you both get out of the car. You walk a little slower to prolong the moment, but eventually you have to get up to your apartment door. You also take your time with taking your keys out of your bag and putting them in the lock. And maybe you’re not as slick as you thought, because Jaehyun notices. He laughs quietly behind you, but the sound isn’t low enough to escape your hearing.

You turn around to look at him, your hand on the doorknob. “Well, I guess that’s it. Thanks for the ride...and for the ice cream, you know.”

He nods, and one of his dimples pokes out. “You didn’t have to entertain me tonight, but I’m glad you did...so, thanks.”

Both of you linger in your doorway for a few more moments. Jaehyun wants to come in, and you know it, but you also know he probably won’t say it because he technically shouldn’t. His members are expecting him back at the dorm. He doesn’t want to impose, and he didn’t even bring any extra clothes. But you know he wants to come in, and you want it, too.

You tilt your head to the side. “Would it be bad if I asked you to stay?” you say tentatively.

A slow smile spreads on his face. “No, it wouldn’t.”

You open the door wider so he can step inside and take his shoes off at the entrance. You lead him to your living room by the hand. “What do you wanna do?” you ask, looking at him imploringly. You want to be sure you’re both on the same page concerning your intentions.

“Whatever you wanna do,” he echoes, holding your hand a bit tighter. You expect to see lust or some similar desire in his expression and had already figured you might end up having sex again tonight, but his eyes expect nothing from you. He only smiles in the dim light of your apartment and waits for you to make the next move.

You laugh, and it comes out as an airy chuckle. “Well, then...I want to lay down. It’s been a long day.” From your tone, Jaehyun understands that you really just want to lie down and not think about much of anything else right now. He follows you when you lead him into your bedroom and sits patiently on your bed while you go to the bathroom to change into your night clothes. You’re thankful you already took a shower at the club, because you’re not sure you’d have the energy to do all that now.

He’s taken his jeans off when you come back into the room, though he still keeps his shirt on. You get onto the bed and lean over him, hooking your finger into the collar of his shirt, and he looks up at you. “You can take this off if you want, I don’t care.”

“Is this you saying you want to see me shirtless?” He grins, though he readily takes the invitation and pulls his shirt off, placing it to the side along with his pants.

You shake your head good-naturedly, a smile on your face. “I promise it’s innocent…but the view never hurts.”

You peel the sheets back and you both climb underneath them, lying across from each other and looking at each other like you want to say something more but aren’t sure what. There isn’t much light in the room except for the street lights coming from your bedroom window, muted slightly by the blinds.

Jaehyun laughs suddenly, breaking the silence, and you do the same. You’re not sure why either of you are laughing, but you do so anyway, simply enjoying the moment for what it is. After your laughter dies down, he takes your hand from where it’s resting on the pillow and slips his pinky around yours. “I’ll try not to lose you this time.”

You lean a little closer to his face so you can plant a kiss on his lips—just a short and soft touch. He tastes like ice cream, and somehow you know there will be many more kisses like this in the future. “You better not.”

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tomdiddlyumptious · 3 years

Text

T.H| My Mortal Enemy

Summary: you really dont wanna dance with him

Warnings: uhhh language per usual other then that idk-

A/n: I actually wanted to create a series with princess!reader but i wasnt sure.

A LOVE TRIANGLEEEEE OMFGGGGG prince!tom x princess!reader x timothee chalamet

“Y/n suck it up” “suck what up?” “Your stomach” you took a deep breath in and grunted when she pulled thhe strings of the corset.

“Fuck you” you sighed, holding onto your stomach while she laughed “you have to dance with him, theres no way around it” zendaya said, tying the strings together while you complained.

“Im not dancing with him! Ill just dance with timothee” you commented, wiping the sweat from your forehead before she grabbed the hoop skirt, telling you to step into it.

“You’re becoming queen and toms becoming king. There’s literally nothing you can fucking do” she muttered, picking it up and putting it on your hips, quickly closing it. “Im not happy with that”

“Honey please. Clearly” she glared at you, and you smacked your lips and raised your hands in the air, the detailed white skirt, small roses and small patterns, coming over your head and down ontop of the hoop skirt.

“Beautiful” she smiled, looking at you in the mirror while you stood there shoulders slumped. “I look like one of those creepy baby dolls”

She hit you in the back making you stand up straight “you wont get anywhere with that attitude, you go in there with confidence and your head held high. For tom..... i dont know what hes gonna do but dont let that ruin your mood”

“Thanks that means so much-“ “shut up” she ordered, eyeing you as you kept your lips sealed tight. She grabbed the heels and bended down on her knees, snatching your foot making you almost fall.

“You know i couldve had someone else doing this for me. You dont have to-“ “i need you to look your best, princess” she muttered, slipping the shoe on and doing the same with the other.

“Im not marrying that scoundrel, harrison” he said, his helpers helping him while harrison watched, laughing at him. “If you wont i will,” “shut up” “you dont even like her” “so?”

He stared at harrison with daggers, while harrison played with a smirk on his face. “It cant be that hard. Just a dance and youd never have to make contact again” timothee shrugged, swirling the ice in his glass.

“You dont know i feel towards her” tom whispered. “Well you obviously hate her, but shes the most beautiful woman in this palace, everyone thinks so!”

“Eh id rather marry zendaya” “zac will kick your ass” harrison said, “thats besides the point” “tom just be quiet” tim said and tom furrowed his eyebrows at him.

“You literally talk about her all the time. If you have such a problem let one of us dance with her” he offered. “Why would i do that?”

“Because you hate her!” They both shouted at him. “I-i dont hate her....i just have se negative feelings about her”

“Then why do you talk about her all the fuckin time?”

He didn’t know how to answer that. He didnt know if he loved you or hated you. It was whatever he felt in the moment.

And that left him with a sigh and a shrug “i dont know”

“You look absolutely stunning!” Zac said, his arm wrapped around zendaya while Had a smile in her face. “She thinks she looks like a doll, a creepy one”

“Welp that isnt gonna get you anywhere...” “exactly what i said!” “Can i please take off these heels?” You asked hopping on one foot to scratch the back of your ankle.

“Nooo! Come on!” Zendaya urged and you groaned, walking with them following behind you.

The ball room was.....beautiful. Fancy tables and chairs everywhere, the special table on the other end of the room for the king and queen.

The room was filled, cheers and glasses clanking, laughs leaving people lips. And then someone cleared there throat loudly, when you looked over it was your beloved mother, “the queen is here!”

She walked over, the room quiet as gasps left people lips, muttering things like “since when does y/n wear ball gowns” “she looks stunning” and things like that.

Her hand found yours and you did a small smile, letting her pull you wherever as zendaya and zac found thier table.

She pulled you to your fancy table. “Now y/n i need you to behave” “but maaaa!” “No excuses! Make everyone proud okay, i know that boy can be a handfull”

“How do i look?” He asked, running offly late. “I mean you arent trying to impress anyone-“ “you look great” tim cut harrison off, patting toms shoulder “so can we please leave”

And you sat there, bored, for once in your life time crossing a leg over the other and helping yourself with cherries while tom watched from afar, his mother walking him over.

“You look wonderful y/n, both of you do” she smiled, rubbing toms shoulder and looking at you. “Thank you ms. Holland”

“Please- call me niki. Were gonna be a family after all” she said, making tom roll his eyes and bite his lip, looking away then looking back. “Yeah we are” you smiled and like that it was only you two.

“I dont like you” “and what makes you think i do?” You questioned, raising an eyebrow while he crossed his arms “the least you can do is act like a gentleman, as far as anyone knows we are happy together” you said making him nod, sitting up and clearing his throat.

“Sooo.....wife” you cringed at his words but let him continue “how are we gonna do this?” You only shrugged “we can sleep in separate rooms or something” “sounds like a plan” he genuinely smiled at you, handing you another cherry as you squinted your eyes at him.

“I dont know if you poisoned this” you flicked it back at him, making him let out a small gasp before throwing it back “you arent worth my time, i would waste a dime trying to kill you” “i dont know if i should take that as a complement or not” your eyebrows furrowed and he sighed, looking away from you.

“You know, i dont know why they have such a problem with each other” harrison said to tim, currently at their own table, throwing grapes at one another and cracking jokes. “I dont think we’ll ever find out” he said in response, eating one of the grapes.

AnD iT WAs TiMe TO daNCE

The strong piano played, filling the halls as everyone watched you and tom.

You both maintained eye contact, his hand tight on the side of your waist as yours was tight on his shoulder, squeezing each others hand that was shared in each others.

“Im never doing this again” he whispered, basically nose to nose with you. “Do you think i want to?” You rolled your eyes. “I dont care if you want to! I just know im not doing this”

“Well grea-“ he dipped you and you almost gasped, frightened making tom silently chuckle before lifting you back up, now chest to chest.

“Your a fuck-face” you muttered. “You love it” he shrugged, “why are we doing this anyway”

“I dont know, why do you hate me?” He asked making your jaw drop. “Why do you hate me?!” You aggressively whispered.

“They look happy” zendaya said, zac, haz and tim all circled around the same table as they watched intently “ehhh” they all let out at the same time, in their own bubble, tim leaning back in the chair and Harrison slump with his legs open, zac resting his face on his knuckles as he silently blowed spit bubbles.

“I hate you because you hate me!” “I only hated you because you hated me!” “Bullshitttt” he bit his lip and you aggressively stomped on his foot with the edge of your heel.

He let out a small whimper and a fuck you making you have a smile on your face. “Dont cuss at me” “im pretty sure my foot is bleeding, fart face” “shut up” “but you literally called me a fuck face!”

“Shush!” He still whimpered in pain when he moved, “im sorry” you said, feeling guilty. He did a small smile “that isnt gonna make my foot better is it?”

“Well what the fuck do you want me to do! Kiss it?” “That wouldn’t be so bad” you groaned and looked away from him, to keep yourself from looking at him you easily pressed your head on his chest, making his breath hitch and his heart spead up, the piano relaxing a bit so you both moved slowly.

“Awwww” everyone said together making tom blush hard, your arms came up to circle his neck while his silently made its way to your waist. “Y/n why are you doing this?” He asked, whispering in your ear as you let out a small “i dont know”

“Well- can you n-not?" “Not what thomas?” “Be all bubbly with me!” You looked up at him with your eyebrow raised “im not being bubbly”

“Yes you are!” You sighed in response “but dont you feel better! Not everything has to be so negative” “well this is bluntly awkward” “well then stop making it awkward!”

“Yeah they are in love with each other” zac said, everyones eyebrows furrowed as they looked at you both, a different look and vibe coming from the both of you.

The piano slowly ended, you and tom panicked.

“Kiss me!” He ordered. “Why would i do that! We barely even get along!” “As far as they know we are a happy cuddle” he mocked your voice. “Im still not kissing you” “if you dont kiss me im gonna kiss you”

“Fine-“ “hurry up!” “You sound loke you really wanna kiss-“ before you could finish he pressed his lips on yours, his hand pulling you closer as his other hand came up to the side of your face, and SUPRISE you fucking kissed back!

Although you both you never would never admit it, you both loved the kiss.

Your lips where soft and to your suprise his lips werent chapped, his hands were gentle on your face as you also pulled him closer, your arms still circled around his neck.

Everyone at the tables jaw dropped, zendayas more but that didnt change the subject that you both kissed, and it looked like you both were gonna sit like that till end of time.

“No fucking way” haz muttered, looking at everyone else’s expressions and they were the same.

An audible noise came when you both pulled away. “That- that uh....wasnt s-so bad” he did a small awkward chuckle. “Yeah.... i uhhhhh”

“Uhhh” you both looked away from each other before tom pulled you back to your private table.

“Im still shocked” tim said, everyone agreeing as everyone else clapped for them. “So they just decided to love each other” zac shrugged, “yeah something like that”

After that whole thing was done, daya, tim, haz, and zac locked you all in toms bedroom for questions. “What is this about?” You asked, taking off your heels and getting undressed infront of everyone.

“You and tom” his eyebrows furrowed as he started to get undressed himself. “What about it?”

“Uhhh helllooo! Are we gonna act like that fucking kiss DIDNT happen?” Daya waved her hand in the air, before crossing her arms. You and tom silently looked at each other “it was his fault”

He smacked his lips and threw himself on his bed, throwing a tantrum, kicking air. “I thought we werent gonna tell anyone!”

“So you admit it!” Haz said, a wide smile on his face as he clapped his hands. “Zendaya the corset please” you said, she came over and undid it for you. “Can i have a shirt please?” You asked, looking back at tom and he nodded getting up, searching through his drawer.

“SINCE WHEN WERE YOU BOTH BUDDY BUDDY?” Tim said, and tom shrugged “I guess we just feel differently about each other”

“And it was because of that kiss wasn’t it?” Zac smiled while daya had a childish look on her face. “It’s happening! Give me my money!”

“You guys betted on us?” You asked, thanking tom when he handed you a shirt. “Wait wait wait wait, what the actual fuck. What in the fucks is going in here because this is confusing!” Haz said, getting a headache “i swear if that kiss never happened they would be ripping each others head off”

“Zendaya more loose please!” You said and she eyed you, “help her tom” she said, crossing her arms. “Uhhh...okay” he shrugged, walking over to loosen it more.

“HUH?” Everyone shouted, watching as he loosened it and then made you turn around to loosen the front. “Somethings not clicking-“ “no because this isnt adding up”

You put the shirt over your head and pulled the corset off of you under your shirt, he helped with the hoop skirt since you already took off the actual skirt.

“Im really confused” zac said, sighing as everyone who betted gave zendaya 100 bucks, including him.

“We all are, zac” tim muttered, crossing his arms as he watched you both communicate. “Tom when your done lets talk!”

And timothee and tom went outside of the room, tom leaning against the wall as he waited for him to speak. “Youre only doing this because we said something about her, right?”

“I dont know what you’re talking about, timothee” “yes you do. Youre only doing this because you know i have feelings for her” “I actually didnt know that but okay”

“Yes the fuck you did” tim pushed him, toms eyebrows furrowed as he pushed him back. “No i didnt” tim pushed him to the floor, a large thud heard making you all whip your heads to the door, hearing a punch made you walk slowly to the door.

“You knew i had feelings for her and you took her away from me, you dont even like her!” “What?” You whispered, looking over at zendaya before they all rushed to the door, ear hustling.

Tom tackled him to the ground, aggressive punches thrown at his face until tim rolled both of them over, now his turn. “I hate you! You were never there for her! Made her mad- sad- and everything that she doesnt fucking deserve!”

You decided it was time to come out, opening the door and telling them both to stop, Zac pulling tim off of tom and Harrison holding tom back.

Tom sent daggers at tim while tom did the same. “And now she likes you. Ive been working so fucking hard to win over her heart but you- you have to ruin everything” tim finished, pushing zac off of him before turning to you.

“I hope youre happy” he scoffed and walked passed, flipping tom off. “Wait!” You said, chasing after tim while tom looked back, jaw clenched as he watched you run off.

“Y/n leave me alone” “i just want to talk” you caught up to him, both of you power walking. “I never knew you had feelings for me timothee! If you would’ve told me sooner I would’ve never done the thing i did today” you said, looking at him while he still looked ahead, before he looked at you.

“Im not mad at you y/n. He-he knew that i had feelings for you and he took advantage of it, i-i” he sighed and you pulled him into a hug, “im sorry”

I dead ass dont know if i should do a part 2 or not. THIS IS WHY I SAID I WANTED TO MAKE A SERIES- IM SO MAD AT MYSELF-

#tom holland x reader #tom holland #tom holland fanfic #tom holland x black!reader #tom holland imagine #tom holland au #tom holland blurb #timothee x reader

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blackcherrykiss · 3 years

Text

BLOOD BOUNDARIES - Enhypen OT7 Fanfic (ch.7)

[CH.1] [CH.2] [CH.3] [CH.4] [CH.5] [CH.6] previous chapters

[CH.8.] next chapter (unavailable, check back or follow for updates!)

You fell into a distrustful panic that night now that knew the screams of the woods were also where Jungwon and his friends lived. You weren't sure if you should be scared for those group of boys or be scared of them. You'd be lying to yourself if you tried to believe it was only a coincidence the boys had a place in the forest of violent cries.

You questioned your sanity, were they murderers? Was that their dirty secret?

Your conclusions were endlessly dark, repeating themselves countlessly. You had never wanted to sleep away your thoughts more than ever. Eventually, you got exhausted from your thoughts. It was mentally draining to try and tear apart the possibilities of the situation, you didn't have enough evidence to be so sure. You lay in a cold sweat as you drifted off into a deep but horrible sleep.

You dreamt in full awareness. The boys with blood spilling down their hands and onto their swan white clothes. A red mess everywhere on the cream walls of an orphanage that overflowed with rays of a full moon. Although you were scared of what you were witnessing, you could not wake up even if your life depended on it. It seemed as if the dream had sped up your sleep as you woke in what felt like a few seconds. Calmly, you awoke in the misty autumn morning in a crushed up pile of blankets. You sit up to peel your wispy curtains away from the window to get a good look at the dark forest that steamed with a muddy blue fog. All of the memories of Jungwon yelling at you for just being near the woods flooded your brain as you stared. This time you were determined to search deep into that forest and get to the bottom of its mysteries as it called out to you.

"Y/N I think you're going to be late for your first class." Nana knocked before bursting into your room in full uniform, not a wrinkle on her shirt.

"Y-you're already ready? What time is it?!" You glanced back and forth between your pyjamas and uniform that draped over a random stool as you were too lazy to fold nicely the night before.

"We didn't want to wake you... So we went ahead thinking you'd come down eventually." She yanked you out of bed, gripping your forearms tightly before backing out the door, "Don't be late! We promised we'd keep out of detention this year!"

Within a blink of an eye, you slip into your uniform, slinking your arms through the holes of your blouse and adjusting your legs to be cover by your ashy plaid skirt. With your bag and binder in hand, you sprinted across your campus to the gymnasium where you found yourself arriving, everyone already in the proper athletic attire.

"You're late." Your health teacher grit her teeth in visible disappointment. Your teacher knew how unlike you it was to be late as your classmate's eyes followed your every movement.

"P-pardon me." You clawed your fingers through your bedhead, speeding to the change room, nervous she'd assign you detention.

You let out the deep breath you were holding in as you got into the empty locker room, frustrated at yourself for waking up so late. You can't help but feel upset that you let your thoughts get the best of you and ruin your perfect attendance. Truly you were ashamed but began to see no point in continuing to rush the pace at which your day was running.

The locker room door opens and you see Kyungeun peep herself inside, "Y/N? You alright?"

You pull your boxy shirt flat down, zipping and tying every spot on your tracksuit jacket, "Yeah, sorry rough morning..."

"No worries, I just said that I had to go to the bathroom but I really just wanted to check on you." She had a motherly sound to her voice which comforted your bad start to the day. Perhaps she was in a good enough mood for you to ask her briefly about her relationship with Sunghoon.

"Kyungeun, I think I need to just clear the air... I saw you with Sunghoon in the library." You tilted your head in regret as to whether or not you were starting off the conversation in the right direction.

"Y-you saw us???" Her face drained to an unrealistic hue, "Lord... Sunghoon will kill me if he finds out you know."

"Stop! What do you mean? He'll kill you? Is it because I know that you two are dating?"

"NO! Nevermind then!" She cut you off right after the question mark in your voice. She looked rather relieved at your response which could only mean their relationship was much different than you had presumed. "I just can't tell you about our relationship I'm s-sorry it's between just us two."

"So then it's okay for him to flirt with my roommate?"

"No? Are you serious right now ?!" Kyungeun panicked.

"So you are dating?" You gave a smug smile.

"It's not that..." She was visibly frustrated not being able to describe herself in words, "I'll tell you this, I'm bound to him..." She ran her index finger along the reddened gash on her neck He's blackmailing me."

"So you're like his pet?" You held in your laughter, you knew you should be more serious but you had no other way of trying to help Kyungeun express the gist of her relationship.

"I'll tell you another day... Let's just go before the teacher gets mad at you for taking so long to change."

...

After your class full of advanced leg exercises and mediocrely fun games, you got halted by your gym teacher, "Y/N can we speak about how tardy you were today?"

You got fearful of her sentencing you detention, freezing up from your heel upwards, "I'm so sorry, I just had a lot going on last night..."

"Sweetie, I know this is your first late in my class but unfortunately the school does not tolerate tardiness in the way I believe it should be." She tapped her chin a few times, "I have no other choice but to send you to detention but it'll just be a half-hour at lunch." You felt better that it wasn't for a full hour or two after school but you were still dreading the idea.

"Can't you just let me off the hook? I promise it'll never happen again" You pleaded desperately.

"I'm afraid I cannot... If the other teachers or students knew you didn't get sent to detention I could get into trouble for giving you 'special treatment'. I know you didn't mean to love but I cannot afford to lose my job so I'll see you then." She patted one of your shoulders, giving it a little squeeze to cheer you up.

"I understand..." You nod with your head that already hung low.

"It's in the English room down the hall, there is usually only a few students there. Some familiar faces."

...

That rest of your morning would only pull through faster as you got some weird anxiety over walking into the detention room. You could not concentrate at all in the class you had before lunch. You felt as if you were too good for the detention group of kids, but here you were about to join those you criticized. Karma.

"Make sure to answer the questions 8-16 on page 300, you have the rest of the class to do so. Any questions?" Your physics teacher stood with his hands balled up behind his back.

Realizing you had no physics book in your bag after triple checking, you shot your arm up in distress, "ME! I forgot my textbook today... I was in a rush this morning." You faked a polite laugh with the expectation your teacher would have a spare.

"I'm afraid I don't have an extra, anyone willing to share?" The teacher lifted his head to scan the class.

"I could share." Jaeyun winked making your face recoil

"Perfect! You'll probably have to move your stuff to his seat then." Your teacher suggested.

With a thick coat of disappointment, you pulled a chair up to Jaeyun's desk to which he kneed you annoyingly.

Within just a few seconds of settling down, you complained "How the hell am I supposed to write? There is no space... Desks are made for ONE person."

"Okay then don't use my textbook and fall behind" He sneered.

"Wait wait, I just had the greatest idea Jaeyun." He gave you puppy eyes when you said his name, "What if you look for half the answers I do the other half then exchange?" You whispered so the teacher could hear.

"I can't trust you make good answers though..." He jokingly sighed.

"HEY! Okay or work together for every question to get it done twice as fast? Oh wait but then I'll be the one carrying the team... Bummer..." You stretched the corners of your mouth until your lips disappeared.

"I honestly don't feel like doing work so lose-lose." He pouted and rolled his eyes.

"Same... I can't even focus, I'm having a rough morning..." You openly admitted, "I got sent to detention for being late in my first class."

"Detention? Didn't think you were the type." Jaeyun had an unexpectedly sweet giggle which contrasted with his lower tone voice, "Heeseung and Sunghoon get sent often, surprised they aren't kicked out of the school."

"They get sent often?!" Your voice rose to which you quickly quieted down to avoid trouble, "Will I see them there?"

"Why? Looking forward to going now?" Jaeyun whispered with a grin, causing you to scoff.

"As if..." A sudden idea coming to mind, "Say Jaeyun... About the party... Heard you guys have a place in the woods...?" You became aware that you could pry some information out of him that would help you when searching the woods that night.

"Yeah, we do... We don't normally tell people about it." He said casually yet still with some sort of caution.

"So why tell us then?"

"Haven't had any visitors in a while..." Jaeyun toyed with his mechanical pencil, using the plastic part to trace around his lips, "Awfully interested aren't you?" He seemed to have caught on to your intentions, shifting the mood of the conversation around in a full 180.

Suddenly the dream you had earlier slipped into mind, causing you to sit in growing discomfort, "What do you want from my friends and I?"

"Nothing sweetheart... We're more interested in you than your dormmates. You look like someone we know." He laughed like a psycho and it creeped you out how the two of you were just poking lighthearted jokes to something much darker and mysterious, "I know you're afraid of us, you know far more than most girls." His voice dropped to a whisper as he watched the teacher behind you to make sure he didn't see the both of you slacking.

"Kyungeun knows your secrets too she said she'll tell me."

"She's acting like we don't know her secrets." Jaeyun closed his textbook, "Y/N just remember this, Kyungeun is half as bad as we are and half as pure as you are."

"Alright class, that's it for today's class. This textbook assignment won't be due until Friday have a good lunch." The teacher interrupted, causing your conversation with Jaeyun to end on a hanging note.

"Good luck with detention."Jaeyun hushed in your ear.

_______________

p.s, i changed the cover lol don’t make fun of my photoshop skills!

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you-can-wear-my-face · 4 years

Text

Thomas Hewitt/Selectively Mute!Reader, part Four

Summary: The Sheriff picks you up after you broke down on the side of the road. You know this can’t end well, but he makes you an offer you can’t refuse; use your nursing skills to heal the giant man he brings you to, and you can go free. Unfortunately for you, he obviously needs more than a nurse. (And how can you be sure he’ll really let you go when ‘Thomas’ is healed?)

Content Warning: medical maggots, ‘meat’, self-harm reference, traditional gender roles referenced without nuanced commentary.

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

After killing several maggots with your testing, you finally found a mix of dilute lye that the maggots could survive. You had no way of knowing if it sterilized them or not, but it was better than nothing. ‘Washing’ the maggots netted you exasperation and impatience from Hoyt—thankfully, Luda Mae’s presence seemed to keep him from escalating to something worse. You were grateful for her supervision, and even more grateful that no one demanded you talk; you didn’t think you could manage it right now.

Finally, you lifted the jar of ‘clean’ maggots and bandages and approached Thomas. He eyed the jar with a kind of resigned tolerance that caused you to take his hand, squeezing comfortingly. The resignation faded into surprise. You managed to find your voice for him.

“Okay, Thomas, I’m going to put these on your chest. I don’t have any plaster for a proper setting to keep them in place, so we’re just going to try a loose bandage, okay? It might be uncomfortable, but they’re only going to eat the dead skin, so you shouldn’t be in much pain. I know talking’s hard, so if it starts to hurt, you just squeeze my arm, okay?”

He nodded slowly, looking at you like he’d never seen anything quite like you before.

“Okay, let’s get started then.” You reached into the jar, and pulled out a handful of squirming maggots, carefully distributing them along Thomas’ wound and trying to keep them corralled with nothing but cloth, bandages, and a little tape.

Hoyt whistled. “Well, the girl’s not squeamish, I’ll give her that.”

“That she ain’t,” Luda Mae said thoughtfully.

You tried to ignore them, focusing on Thomas instead. “How’re you doing, big guy?” His eyes widened a little and you saw his Adam’s apple bob. “You doing okay?” He nodded carefully.

Hoyt snickered, the sound making you stiffen. The hair on the back of your neck stood on end; the sheriff’s inappropriate laughter had been your first clue that he wasn’t a genuine officer of the law. You swallowed hard, trying to keep working despite the sudden trembling in your hands. Hoyt began to say something, but Luda Mae gave him a long, hard look. “Why don’t you get some meat outta the locker?” she said. It was not a request. “I gotta get started on dinner soon. Tell Monty we’re gonna have a guest, and I expect him to be on his best behavior. You too.”

He sniffed, the sound rattling in the back of his throat. “You think that’s a good idea?”

“Well, we ain’t gonna let her starve.“

He just grunted. “All right. What do you want? Shoulder? Ribs?“

“Sausage’ll be fine. ‘Less our guest is fond of headcheese.” She eyed you speculatively.

“S-sausage. Please,” you said. She nodded, but Hoyt was still giving you an unnervingly close examination.

Finally, he finished staring, then he just grunted again and slipped outside. Luda Mae made a show of collecting anything sharp or potentially dangerous before she left you to your business—reminding Thomas to be polite as she did. Your nerves settled, and you exhaled shakily.

Thomas cocked his head, looking at you with his brows furrowed. Blushing, you glanced back at the locked door and, lowering your voice, said, “Nothing against your family, but they’re a little intimidating. I’m happy it’s just you and me now.”

His eyes widened. He made a low sound, deep in his throat. It seemed like a question. Taking a guess at his meaning, you asked, “Do I think you’re intimidating?” He gave a little nod. You shook your head. “No. Now, don’t get me wrong—I bet you look pretty fierce when you’re angry or if someone’s bothering your family. But that’s a man’s job, isn’t it? Protecting the people he cares about.” You patted his arm, trying not to notice the scars that covered them. You knew what caused scars like that. “I hope I haven’t done anything to make you mad, though, have I?” He shook his head, still looking at you as if he’d never met anyone quite like you. “Well, then, I got no reason to be afraid of you.”

His silence grew pensive, and he watched as you adjusted the bandages and checked to make sure none of the maggots could easily escape. Idly, you began to hum to fill the silence. When there was nothing more you could do for the injury, you raised your hand to his forehead—reassuring him you only wanted to check his temperature when he jerked away. You pressed your wrist to his skin, and he shut his eyes, looking almost pained. “Still hot,” you murmured, trying to think of what else you could do for him. A cold compress, perhaps? You resolved to ask Luda Mae when she returned.

For now, though, there wasn’t much you could do. You looked around the room, then, really taking note of your surroundings. It was a humble room, with few frills. You noticed a small stack of old quilts and crocheted afghans neatly folded and set aside for the summer. You touched them, studying the patterns, and Thomas made a sound—not quite a growl, but close. You pulled your hand away, pushing your hair out of your face. In the chaos and the heat, it was falling out of its braid. “S-sorry,” you said, idly beginning to unwind it from its braid. “They’re—pretty. Did your ma make them?”

He didn’t reply. You ducked your head, shaking out your hair with one hand. “My gran used to sew,” you said. “She taught me, but I didn’t have the patience for it. Making something pretty out of scraps. Weren’t for me, I guess.” You began to braid your hair, but it was obviously off-center. You sighed and let your hands drop, shaking out your sweat-slick hair and letting it curl around your head. You tugged the handkerchief down, though it didn’t help with the heat. You gave him a smile. “This is your room, isn’t it? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be nosy.”

He stared at you for a while before motioning you forward. You were immediately at his side. “Are you okay?” He nodded, lifting his hands, but you caught them. “Thomas, don’t hurt yourself. Do you need something? Water?” He shook his head again, pulling free of your grip to cup the sides of your face. His hands were huge, and you felt suddenly very small in his presence.

Gently, he pulled your hair back, centering it at the back of your head. “Oh.” You pulled the band from around your wrist and he took it, tying your hair back. “Thank you,” you said. “It’s unmanageable in this heat. Sometimes, I just wanna cut it all off.” He huffed and shook his head emphatically. You grinned. “No? You like my hair?” He eyed you, then looked toward the wall, his own hair falling into his face. You smiled, realizing he was shy. “Well, lucky for you, I don’t have any plans to cut it.”

The doorknob turned, and you remembered all at once that this wasn’t just a house call. You were, technically, kidnapped. You drew away from him and faced Luda Mae as she entered the room, good mood doused.

#thomas hewitt x reader #thomas hewitt/reader #thomas hewitt #leatherface #luda mae hewitt #sheriff hoyt #charlie hewitt

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thorsstorms · 3 years

Text

Abroad pt 20

Summary: Being the Hemsworth Kids’ Nanny, you were vowed to keep it strictly professional for their sake, but do the stolen glances go unnoticed between you both?

Word count: 1.3k

Warnings: none

A/N: wish y'all could the see the smile my face right now over the fact that I actually sat down and was able to write something. I decided to skip what ever it was that I was hung up on for months and months. Love is appreciated because you know what, its short... I know. but its content yay. if you would like a tag pls send as and ASK or it will get lost in my notifications.

Masterlist

“You want to marry me?” You asked, staring at the ring in the opened box. Somehow, the photos just did not do the shine and gleam justice. A deep breath escaped before dragging your eyes to his, standing off his lap while he watched with a hopeful yet confused expression.

“Yes, I do.” Your brows furrowed in a weird sense of disbelief while watching him. The gears turning in your head were gaining speed while you stood still. His own stature deflating at your lack of response. He watched a moment more before finding words to say.

“Hey,” he urged. “Say something.” He stood from the bed, resting the ring on the sheets before focusing his attention back to you.

Your head bowed to your feet, or tried to. Before he could get another desperate word out, the sound of your pitiful voice stopped him in his tracks once again.

“Is it because I’m pregnant?” You whispered.

“What?” He immediately exclaimed. “What! No, no it-it, God, no it is not because you are pregnant.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“Do you know how long I have wanted to do this? It took months to get this ring made!” His arms flailed with an expression of angst and anxiety. “I had to go to meetings for this ring. I have been carrying it around because I couldn’t find a right way to ask! Or a right time, and maybe, maybe this wasn’t the right time to ask or the right way and I’m sorry about that, but that doesn’t change the fact that I want to marry you. I want to marry you. I’ve wanted to marry you for so long. So long.”

You sat back on the bed watching, waiting for him to continue, or finish, or do what he needed to do to process the question you asked. Though you knew the answer, and knew him, you just had to ask, though it felt silly, stupid to worry about now while listening to him.

“I asked your father!” He tossed out catching your attention. “I’ve wanted this for so long. We were in the garage, I was talking to him, and to Ty. You came strolling out there and interrupting-” Your eyes grew wide at the thought and memory. “- don’t, don't worry about it. But that's how long. Your dad knew. I’m sure he thought I was out of my mind, maybe he still does because I had only known you a few months at the time but it didn't matter to me. I knew.”

You suddenly remembered your mouth was open and it snapped shut.

“Things just happened, and kept happening. And the stupid board, I was going to do it when Ty was there but it just wasnt the right time.” His rate of speech started to slow, a weight slowly lifting from his chest when he really looked at you again, listening to him. “It was never going to be the right time. And no, it is not because you are pregnant.”

“Ask me again.” You told him, grabbing the ring from the bed and walking it to where he had ended his pacing, placing it in his hand.

“What?”

“Just ask me again, Chris.”

“Uh,” he said with a small panic looking around himself and to the ground, not knowing what to do, “Okay.”

His stature stuttered a moment before quickly lowering himself on one knee while you bit back a laugh at his disorientation. He quickly tried to gather himself, fixing his shirt and rubbing his hands down his thighs. It was there, in the bedroom of this boring and bland condo, where the both of you were starving for dinner and eyes red from tears, that he started more rambling.

“I promise to love you, to be there for you, to go everywhere with you. I promise we will make it to Paris, and we will make a home ours, where ever you want - with enough bedrooms and your parents can come visit whenever and they can have a room and the kids can go to a school, and we’ll live together and I’ll do the laundry, and I can cook all the time, and you can get your hair done whenever you want, and I promise to be at every doctor’s appointment -”

“Chris.”

“I know, I know,” he hurried. “Will you marry me?”

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yea.”

“So you never answered my question,” he interrupted the comfortable silence. The ring had both of your focus for a moment more while you sat next to him, his arm slung over your shoulder. You pulled forward from the headboard and gave him a crazy eye.

“What more do you want me to say?” A chuckle escaped your lips as you questioned him.

A lazy smirk grew against his lips, “I had messaged you earlier if you were in the mood to go out for food. And I am still hungry so-”

“You are always hungry,” you retorted, matching his bliss. “But yes, I am in the mood for food.”

The next few days went by too fast, as it always does. Only four days later your favorite three munchkins were running around the apartment, creating all the noise you probably could go without, but wouldn’t change for the world. The first night, in one of the two spare rooms, you were tucking in India. It was more like laying in bed with her, most likely keeping her more awake than tired. With the furrow of her brows and a sad tone in her voice, she questioned if she would see her classmates again. You couldn't exactly tell her yes because it was unsure how long it would be before you were back there long enough for her to enroll in school again. The puppy eyes she gave brought back up a guilt that never went away after rooting for her to have the school experience.

“You know how papa is always traveling?” You pulled the blanket closer to her shoulders while she stared across the boringly decorated room in a bed that is way too big for her. That would have to change soon.

“He works with so many people, and then after awhile, he leaves and works with a new group of people. He never forgets them, I guarantee it. And in return, they will never forget them. That's just how friendships work. Sometimes we meet new people and have new experiences, but that does not meet we forget who we met before! How I think about it is, we are going out in the world to find new friends, and more people to love. We don’t have to forget them.”

“They won’t forget me either, right?” She worried.

“Oh no, of course not. I moved away too, ya know. I moved allllllll the way across the ocean,” you exaggerated with the span of your arms. “And I still keep in contact with some friends I went to school with. They were my true friends who were always kind to me. Your true classmates will go out of their way to stay friends with you.”

“Is Ty your true friend?”

“Well he’s my brother, so I don’t think he counts.” She giggled as you pointed to the door where her brothers were across the hall with their father. “Are those two sillies your best friends?” You prompted her.

“Ya. Sometimes!”

“Oh I know you love your brothers. Those crazy boys…” you sighed as she nestled in a little further with a drowsy yawn letting loose. A moment of silence ensued. You were sure she was thinking hard.

Her eyes were getting heavier as she was fighting sleep. “Do I get another brother, or is the little baby going to be a sister?” She asked quietly.

“I dunno. What do you think?”

“Well obviously I hope that they are my sister because I don’t need another brother.” Even tired, the little girl leaked sass. You chuckled and gave a “we’ll see,” before wishing her a goodnight and creeping away from the kids bedrooms.

#chris hemsworth #abroad feels #chris hemsworth x reader

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alliesweetsong · 3 years

Text

Under the Moonlight

There hadn't been a day that she could remember since the war had begun that Allue had slept all through the night. Long before she had truly been witness first hand to the horrors of war, the recurring nightmares of her encounter with a warlock plagued her sleep. Now even that single event didn't seem to phase her even on nights like this, where her body and mind refused to relax.

Despite the curtains being drawn, moonlight flooded into her room through the crease of the fabrics casting long shadows on the furniture as she stared at the wall. How long she had been awake was anybody's guess including hers. The thought alone brought a frustrated sigh from her lips while she threw the blankets from her bare form. Walking to a nearby chair she grabs the robe Rian had provided her and slips it over her shoulders, tying off the fabric around her midsection.

Typically when she couldn’t sleep, a walk around Boralus’s waterfront would do the trick. The ships in the harbor and personnel ferrying equipment and goods on and off them seemed to bring calm to her. Right now, that wasn’t an option for the woman, but after a small stroll down the hall to check on her sleeping son, the ranger began to hear the faint melody coming from an adjacent room from a piano. Curious who could be playing at this time of the night, she lofts an eyebrow and heads towards the music.

The magus had kept his distance from the bustle of the manor, usually tucked away in a study or his room while others waded through the common areas. Once everyone had gone to bed or so he'd thought did he take a quiet leave from the modest room. The soft thud-tap of his steps echoed along the wood floors and down the stairs to the common room below.

Dressed in little more than dark loose breeches and an untucked linen shirt, dark unkempt tresses hung just below his shoulders. Calloused fingers hovered over the ivories of the piano, hesitant to find the peace they often brought. He'd been the image of a scholar when he'd left on his mission to research Azerite. On his return the young baron held a worn appearance, more muscle and new scars mostly mended though they served as reminders of his time in orcish captivity.

Silence had filled the halls a long while till the absent tapping of his steps was replaced by the quiet sound of the piano coming to life in the den below. The melody was nothing overly exciting, but rather a soft thrum more fitting for the night that's fallen over the grove.

(Mood Music)

As she made her way from the nursery down the hallway in the direction of the music, Allie pulled the robe tighter to maintain a modicum of decency around whoever was flooding the home with such hauntingly beautiful melodies. As she steps into the den and spots the dark haired man behind the keyboard. The melody was soothing to her and she didn’t wish to interrupt his playing. Opting to instead to take a seat nearby and just listen to the music.

Though Theron felt the presence enter the room, he kept on with his playing assuming it only Rian with another lecture. Pretending he'd not heard or known she was there was easier than indulging what felt like a fruitless conversation. Part of the melody picked up if only briefly before returning to its softer resonance letting his own emotion flow from his thoughts to his fingers and into the music. The last little came slower until with a final breath the last key was struck.

The man was quiet a long moment before canting his head to the side, speaking over his shoulder without looking back, "I'm really not in the mood for another lecture." The tone was firm but not unkind, most telling of a weary soul.

Allie just sat there entranced by the gorgeous music and skill the human was exhibiting. The song was haunting in some parts, yet exciting towards the end before she felt the emotion as the final key was struck. Lofting a brow upwards though at the statement she let the quiet linger for a few seconds before inhaling softly.

"I don't see any reason why I should lecture you after a gorgeous piece like that." she replies softly and warmly. "Surely that will be in my head when I attempt to sleep once more." she finishes with a soft smile.

"I don't believe we have met before, are you one of the servants here?"

Theron gazed down at the keys before the voice answered his and found it to be one he'd not expected. Turning, brows furrowed as they found the elven woman confused. Not without some sense of manners Theron took up his cane and found his feet to offer a hastened bow of his head and chest, "My apologies Miss, I thought you were my sister."

When he rose up to meet her gaze once more, "I hope I didn't wake you, I was careless and forgot we had company." Lips quirked slightly though he held a solemn gaze as she asked just who he was. He'd lost track of how long he'd been gone, expecting anyone in the home to recognize him when he hardly recognized himself seemed a silly notion, "I am, yes." While he knew she meant something entirely different, it was in his mind the truth.

Though she looked like a High Elf, the soft spectral echo in Allie’s voice would betray what she truly was as she laughs softly and bows her head in return to his own bow. "No, atleast I don't think I'm your sister, your ears aren't long enough." she replies with a chuckle.

"My name is Allie Sweetsong, I'm a friend of the uh, owner, Rian." she replies lofting an eyebrow unsure if she was using the proper common there.

"Ah! that makes sense, you must play for company and such?" she replies not assuming he was in fact a servant.

A huffed laugh met her chuckle, as he shook his head, "Ha.. No you're certainly not my sister. The eyes are a little different." He lifted a hand upward gesturing two fingers towards his own eyes then at her.

Swaying some where he stood as she introduced herself, he decided to let the omission of his own name continue. At least a little while longer. "It is a pleasure Miss Sweetsong. The lady of the house hasn't had much company aside from this new suitor of hers. It's good to see she's expanding the doors a bit further."

He gave a nod at her assumption, "I do sometimes. Though truth be told I've not had anyone really to play for for a few years now. Probably for the best given it's only been recently I've been able to find hints of inspiration again." Theron lifted the cane and gave a tap to his leg he avoided putting the weight on.

Allie smiles brightly as the man brings a hand to his eyes and nods in agreement before her attention turned to the leg and cane slightly frowning. "Did you fight in the war as well?" she inquires tilting her head to the side as she leans back to get comfortable beginning to unfold her arms no longer feeling like she was in any sort of danger.

"Lady Rian is one of my best friends. I can say I wouldn't be the person I am today without her wisdom, or her strength. I feel horrible I couldn't give her my company sooner, and now we have...this mess." she replies waving a hand in the direction of the woodline.

Humming in thought letting that fester she gently shrugs. "You can play for me, i found that song to be beautiful, and soothing."

"A few of them. Though this last... I wasn't exactly a willing participant." HE confessed. "I do not recommend playing party to orcish camps." His words had hesitated before he simply cleared his throat and chose to speak on something else entirely.

"Not your fault, there's quite a few who used to frequent and do not so much. In part for their lives being full of their own adventures or... Part of me wonders if she's pushed people away. Not that it's any of my business or place to say."

As she waved off, Theron glimpsed towards the boarded up windows, knowing full well what lay on the other side and beyond, regarding the elven woman's intent. "There always seems to be another brewing." His attention drew back to the woman as she requested he continue his playing. Bowing his head, though when he spoke, he did so in her home language, "As the lady wishes."

Once more Theron settled himself back to the Piano and settled his cane along the upper ledge. "I apologize if my playing is a little rusty." He offered a small smile before settling into a new melody for Allie.

(Mood Music)

Allie bites her lip remembering her own run in with being a forced participant in a camp. "I'm sorry you had to endure that. No one should play part to an orc war camp unwillingly." she replies before she falls silent while he begins to resume playing once more.

Inhaling Allie couldn't help but smile as he spoke to her in her native language. "A human with education." she replies in Thalassian not straightening up some. "Rare to find someone who can speak elven fluently outside of Silvermoon." she continues in common obviously impressed.

Though she did take note of his mentioning of Rian potentially pushing others away she made a mental note of it deciding best not to let heavy conversation bring down the magnificent song coming from his fingertips.

"How did you end up serving Lady Rian and the house being so well educated?" she asks curiously

There was a subtle shake of his head at the apology for the mention of the camp. Letting the comment rest where it fell. A small smile pulled at the scruff along his chin as he managed to smile a little. Holding to the language for the woman's sake, "I did some growing in Dalaran. My mother insisted I know the language if I was to do some schooling there."

He continued to play a moment more before her last question brought the music to pause. Considering his words, he glimpsed back at Allie, "You could say we sort of grew up together. Here. In Dalaran. In Hearthglen. I'm no good for war at present, she's let me come here. Nearly insisted on it." He chuckled softly as he continued to play quietly for the woman

Allie's smile turned to a blush as he continued to talk in Thalassian. It wasn't everyday she ran into a human who could actually speak her own language, and while she thought if she had ever met anybody who could do so fluently he mentioned Dalaran.

"The city of Mages? I've heard stories though I can't think of a time I have been there myself. I would see its glow on the horizon when I ventured from Quel'thalas as a small girl." she replies warmly. "I would hear tales of how beautiful it was, rivaled only by Silvermoon itself, but I never got a chance to see it." she replies remembering fondly.

Letting that thought steep for a moment she smiles now and nods in agreement. "So you two are childhood friends?" she asks in a curious manner. Yup he really had her believing he was a man servant "And that certainly sounds like her. Everytime we would see each other, She would always extend an invitation to come to her home."

Most of the magus' attention held on the piano, leaving him ignorant of her blushing demeanor. He gave a rocking nod as she asked about Dalaran. "Mhmm. We had both started at he academy. Her ladyship fought for a different path. It's not for everyone of course."

He gave an agreeing nod, "It is lovely, and the rumor is true. Not that I've seen more than pictures of Silvermoon. But I've ventured to Quel Danas once or twice. I have assumed it is similar to the same thing."

When she continued to press about his sister he wavered with a so-so gesture. "Not always but once we were older. We had a fair bit in common despite a mutual distrust of each other." He chuckled. "She likes taking care of people and playing the part of the hero. I'm guessing you two have that in common?"

The void elf hums before shrugging. "I wouldn't consider myself a hero. I just...enjoy helping others. Even if it has landed me in some...troubling situations." she replies smiling at the hand wave. "But yes, I do believe we share a common bond to make sure those around us are safe, healthy, and above all alive." she replies now leaning forward.

"Wait, are you saying you went to the school of mages in Dalaran? And you're a servant?" she re-iterates mentally pressing x to doubt

"Surely there is more to the story than just being something of a guardian to a childhood friend." she replies humming as she leans her head back against the chair smiling at the beautiful music

"Does any hero that is worthy of the title ever truly accept and acknowledge that they are indeed a hero?" his counter came inquisitive with a more pointed look towards the elf as his hands continued to run the lines he'd memorized years prior.

Focusing back on the music he let his eyes close in welcome distraction before letting off a chuckle of his own, "Dalaran has many schools, not just for mages. It just happens that is the path I studied for." His playing stopped for a moment enough that he lifted his hand to pinch the bridge of his noes and wipe some of the humor from his face, leaving some though more even tempered.

"There is always more to the story. Always. Mage is simply a skill or pursuit in many cases. I could be a writer and still be a servant. Or a marksman..." He lilted a glance towards her. Had he heard of the woman before their meeting? Or been eavesdropping it was hard to say. Perhaps it had simply been a guess at her own skillset.

"Servitude is usually a matter of perspective. I have served the King as a soldier. I have served the Kirin Tor as much the same. Now I serve the people of my home and do so with much fuss despite it being an honor."

Allie thinks on the question the musically inclined mage posed to her as her eyebrows furrowed in thought while pulling her her legs under her form getting more relaxed as the conversation continued.

"Well no, I suppose not.." she reluctantly agrees before shrugging. "I never wanted a title of 'hero' I just wanted to show people that if a small elven girl who watched her people decimated could grow strong and help others, so to could they." she replies with a shrug before her eyes go wide.

"Wait how did you know?" she asks of him now when he makes the comment about a marksmen

Though she chuckles "Oh so now its your house?" she asks in a taunting manner "I know you're not Kenric, or erm, the other human I met some years back serving as her guard." she replies having already long put Thaylynns name out of her memory.

"Seriously, who are you?" she inquries

Theron continued to play as the elven woman worked through her answers. When she questioned his regard for the house, he pressed against a small grin. "I would never claim to be Kenric or any other men Rian's claimed as a suitor. Though I never said it was my house, just that this is home. I could very well just as easily implied that this land is my home." He countered.

"Who am I? Not satisfied with my simply being a servant to the household?" Hands mindfully worked through the last few notes of the song before he redirected his attentions more properly on Allie. "My name is Theron, if that is what you wish to know."

The reply gives Allie a pause as she just looks at him trying to place if the name and relation to Rian, a look Theron would likely pick up on. Inhaling deep and clearly confused she shrugs. "Theron, that name sounds vaguely familiar," she replies ignoring his first comment for now. "Like I saw you on a report, or someone mentioned the name to me at some point." she replies frowning as she clearly couldn't remember

"Regardless, it is nice to meet you, and listen to your talents, I haven't felt this at ease in oh...awhile." she replies. shaking her head

"So you studied to be a mage, you can fluently speak to Quel'dorei in their native tongue, and you are experienced at playing music. Either Rian purposely hires well educated help or you are purposely being vague, to which I don't understand why you would be." she replies as the gears in her head spin.

The magus watched Allie try to sort out who he was. That she hadn't pinpointed him by now had him both intrigued as well as relieved. "It is not an uncommon name in truth. There are at least three others I have passed with the name in Stormwind." he admitted.

"It is my pleasure, Miss Sweetsong." He reached for his cane letting it rest idly with his palms curled over the top. "Perhaps a little of both. Rian doesn't much care for education in the sense that the world does. She sees actions as qualifiers. Not terribly unlike myself. Though I should apologize for being vague. Please know that I do have my reasons. It is easier to gain a more genuine interaction when there is not the wait of expectation that comes with names."

"If you'd like the truth of it, my mother was a magister, professor at the academy for a time. Thus the education, the expectation of learning other languages, in particular those known to better call on arcane. There was also a requirement that we learn an instrument. Small odds and ends she thought we needed to be rounded out." There was a roll of his shoulders as if it wasn't as much as it may have seemed to be.

"I should not keep you any longer. I'm sure keeping up with a little one leaves you wanting in terms of rest." The man eased upward with the aide of the cane.

Still trying to process things, in part due to the time of night it was, Allie inhales and places a hand on the robe so as to maintain a level of decency in front of the man, she uncurls her legs from under her form and rises to her feet with him giving him a proper bow of her head.

"It has been a pleasure Lord Theron," She replies in kind. Hoping she was not disrespecting the human by addressing him with a title that ill suits him

"Though i do understand now, but I hope with time you'll see I am like Rian in a similar manner. I care not for the history of the name of someone. I only care if their intentions are for the boon of others, or to bring others down around them. I would like to speak more during my time here. As I stated before Rian is a dear friend of mine. And if she trusts you to walk the halls of her home at all hours of the night and play the piano, I too will do so in kind." she replies warmly.

"I do hope you trust me during my time here, I love learning about others. Their histories, where they have been." she finishes with a bow and a chuckle. "He has been good the last few days, though that is in no small part because of the new surroundings we find ourselves in, I suspect he will test the limits of my energy in a few days." she states while walking to the door she entered through.

"Sleep well, Theron."

And with that the Ren'dorei departed, heading to her chambers once more to attempt sleep, humming the melody she had listened to the man play the entire time.

A brow lofted as she used his title, it was enough that he assumed she'd sorted out just who he was. As she prattled on about how similar she was to his sister, he offered a small smile. "You do not need to sell me on her qualities. Or feel the need to measure yourself against her. So you know. We all have our flaws." A finger was waved in Allie's direction.

"I'm sure we will cross paths again Miss Sweetsong." With that he bowed his head more formally to mach the slight change in her demeanor as she excused herself. "Blessed dreams to you as well."

Only when she was well out of sight and on her way did the Lord see himself from the den. Taking an alternate route to his quarters rather than give himself away through the halls.

Thank you @theron-valteric for writing this with me

@lady-rian for mentions

#ic #arc #wra roleplay #moonguard roleplay #starlight #the arcane

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psychosistr · 3 years

Text

Prince Nori- Chapter 2

Summary: Kakyoin gets used to having Jojo around and finds himself growing more attached to the runaway boy day by day. However, all good things must come to an end at some point..

Notes: *rises from the ground* I LIIIIIIIIIIIIVE! Thanks to everyone who posted such nice comments about the first chapter ^/////^ This is being posted as part of my "Halloween trick or treat" special where I'm posting many of my WIP's, so I thought I'd update this. Thank you all for your patience!

-First Chapter-

Jojo stays longer than what should probably be considered “a bit”. He ends up crashing at Kakyoin’s place for close to three weeks. It’s different for Kakyoin, living with another person again rather than just Iggy, but…he likes it.

Jojo is actually a lot of fun to hang out with. He talks when he feels like it, but he never feels the need to push conversation just to break long silences- a trait that Kakyoin is grateful for. He’s even more grateful for the fact that they seem to understand each other on a level beyond words, often predicting each other’s thoughts and actions with almost perfect accuracy.

He seems grumpy and stern at first glance, but Kakyoin quickly finds out that that’s just his default demeanor. Jojo actually also has a pretty good sense of humor, often giving that small smirk-smile and a quiet huff whenever Kakyoin tells him a joke; he even tells a few of his own, mostly with a sense of dead-pan humor that makes Kakyoin chuckle every time.

He goes outside with Kakyoin whenever possible, keeping his hooded cloak handy to cover himself so the people searching for him don’t recognize him. He can’t go with Kakyoin to school, but they do nearly everything else together- including stealing food. Kakyoin teaches Jojo all of his tricks from shoplifting to running from angry store clerks and police officers. By the end of the second week, Jojo’s gotten pretty good at it and is even learning his way around the alleyways and back streets so he can escape to the rooftops without needing much of Kakyoin’s help.

Even the mundane things, such as doing homework or finding change to visit the laundromat are much more entertaining with Jojo around. He’s pretty smart and offers Kakyoin help when he gets stuck on the rare problem with his homework, and thinks of creative ways to find loose change like using Star Platinum to lift up vending machines or tying a small magnet they found to a string and sliding it into crevices. Also, he always lends an ear to whatever Kakyoin feels like talking about, offering his input when appropriate but always listening even when he doesn’t say much in return.

Kakyoin finds himself enjoying Jojo’s company more and more with each passing day and thinks that maybe, just maybe, he might be starting to develop a deeper connection with him…

Unfortunately, everything comes to a sudden and abrupt halt one day while they are hanging out in a local park.

It’s sunset and they are enjoying the peace and quiet- it’s around dinner time, so most people have gone home for the moment and won’t be back until much later. They are seated under a large tree, just enjoying one another’s company as they watch the sun go down. They’ve grown comfortable enough around each other now that they sit with their shoulders touching, Jojo currently sitting to Kakyoin’s right with his hood down for a change and, by some miracle, they actually convinced Iggy to come with them, so he’s curled up napping in Kakyoin’s lap.

Everything was peaceful and relaxing- a perfect end to the day.

Kakyoin smiles softly while looking at the slowly changing colors of the sky. “I think this is probably my favorite time of day..” He comments quietly, not wanting to disturb the mood too much.

“Hm..because the sky is cherry red?” Jojo asks with that small smirking-smile of his while glancing at Kakyoin.

Kakyoin rolls his eyes with an exasperated but fond smile and elbows him lightly in the arm, careful not to move too much and risk disturbing Iggy. “Not everything I like has to do with cherries, you know.”

“Really?” Jojo questions while raising one eyebrow slightly. “Name one thing that doesn’t.”

Kakyoin is about to comment on the fact that he likes melon bread just fine…but..his mind comes up with something far better to say in that moment and forces him to say it before he even has time to register the words coming out of his mouth:

“Well, I like you.” His eyes widen instantly after he says it and his left hand quickly moves up to cover his mouth and his burning red cheeks. “!!”

Crap! Why did he say that?! Maybe he still had time to take it back! Yeah, he could back-pedal and say that he meant he likes having Jojo as a friend and-

“Hey, Kakyoin.” Jojo’s voice interrupts his train of thought and he looks up to see Jojo giving him that serious look that means he’s being sincere and honest with his words. Jojo then surprises him by taking Kakyoin’s right hand into his own and giving it a gentle squeeze. “I like you, too.”

Kakyoin feels his heart skip a beat and his face grow redder from both the contact and the look in Jojo’s eyes. “Jo..Jojo..I-”

Their attention is diverted from each other when Iggy’s ears suddenly perk up and his eyes snap open. “!!” He stands up in Kakyoin’s lap and looks at the sky, barking urgently in a way that clearly says “Crap! Get up!! Look out!!”

Kakyoin follows Iggy’s line of sight and sees what looks to be a falcon flying in a circle above their location. “Is that..a bird?”

Jojo looks up too and his eyes widen with the closest thing that Kakyoin’s ever seen to panic on his face. “Shit..they found me.”

He summons Star Platinum and Iggy calls out The Fool (Jojo told him the name of Iggy’s stand a while ago) as they all hurry to their feet. Kakyoin still isn’t sure what’s about to happen, but he calls out Hierophant Green as well, just to be safe.

As they prepare to run, though, a blonde man in what could only be described as “cowboy-style” clothes walks towards them with a slow, impressed whistle. “Gotta say, kid, didn’t think you’d give us THIS much trouble. A whole month- that’s gotta be a new record for ya!” He claps his hands in a slow, mocking way as he approaches. “Hate to say it, Jojo, but this is the end of the line- time to come on home.”

Jojo glares at the man, Star Platinum tensed and ready for an attack. “I’m not ready yet.”

“You talk as if you have a choice.” A female voice that is way too close behind them says.

Kakyoin turns his head to see who it is- a woman with tan skin and white hair leaning against the side of the tree that they were previously sitting under.

Damn it! Kakyoin had been too careless not to notices enemies getting so close!

He discretely begins having Hierophant Green unravel itself to form a perimeter of trip-wire like tendrils on the ground as both a means of detection and method of defense should anyone get closer.

“I don’t know who you are..” Kakyoin begins with a warning tone of voice and a glare that moves slowly from the woman behind them to the man in front of them. “But I’ll give you only one warning:” He raises his hand high over his head for dramatic effect and Hierophant Green finishes unraveling the rest of the way before its tendrils raise up off of the ground. The green strands snap taught, forming a perimeter net around the trio from all sides. “Take even one step closer to us and it will be your last.”

“Heh..pretty cocky for a kid.” The blonde man comments while holding his own hand out in front of himself. “Our orders were just to bring him back.” To Kakyoin’s surprise, a gun appears in his hand, aimed directly at Kakyoin’s head. “That means you’re fair game.”

He fires the gun and Kakyoin prepares to block the bullets with his stand, but Iggy beats him to it with a barked order to The Fool. “Arf! Arf!!” The Fool responds by turning into sand that follows the bullets’ swerving path to block them when they get too close. Iggy uses The Fool to continue blocking the shots that the blonde man fires while also shooting out small sand arrows to retaliate.

Kakyoin’s attention is soon drawn upwards towards the sky when he hears a loud screech from the bird above them. He looks up in time to see a strange skeletal stand appear by the falcon and several icicles forming before shooting down towards them.

“!!” He focuses part of Hierophant into a large enough form to attack properly. “Emerald Splash!!” A blast of emeralds shoot out from the Hierophant to intercept the icicle-missiles and try to take out the falcon above them. It succeeds in breaking them up, but more continue to fall- keeping Kakyoin on the defensive and preventing him from getting a clear shot at the bird. “Jojo!” He calls to the other boy for assistance.

“Got it.” Jojo responds, already aware of Kakyoin’s plan. He waits for Kakyoin’s next Emerald Splash attack and has Star Platinum grab a few of the emeralds.

The purple stand tracks the falcon’s movements with its keen eye sight, waits for the perfect opportunity, then spots it- a brief gap in the ice while it takes a moment to form new icicles. “ORA!!” The stand shouts while hurtling the emeralds with the pin-point accuracy and power of a military-grade sniper rifle.

The gems hit their mark- the falcon’s wing- dead-on and cause the bird to let out an indignant squawk as it is sent hurtling towards the ground. It manages to catch itself at the last possible moment and flutters down to land on its own stand, glaring hatefully at the green and purple spirits for forcing it down.

“We’ve grounded it for now!” Kakyoin calls out victoriously while prepping another attack. “Let’s take it out quickly then deal with the others!”

“I think you’re underestimating us far too much.” The woman’s voice says- once again far too close for comfort.

“Wha-?!” Kakyoin turns towards her voice and finds her standing behind him. “How did you get through my web?!” He looks at the perimeter he’d set up with Hierophant Green earlier and, to his horror, he notices a hole just big enough for her to slip through due to the amount he’d recalled to attack the bird earlier. “Damn it!” He turns the Hierophant’s focus on her and has his stand fire another round of emeralds. “Emerald Splash!!”

The woman seems pretty agile, able to duck out of the way and avoid most of the damage, only taking a few minor hits along her legs and back while retreating. She does, however, end up getting snagged on the green vine-like tendrils of Hierophant Green that Kakyoin pulls in closer and manipulates so that they wrap around her.

“Ngh!” She winces when she’s captured and the tendrils tighten around her. However, her expression quickly turns into a rather cruel smirk as she points down towards his feet. “Looks like you’ve already lost, brat.”

He looks down to where she’s pointing and sees what looks to be, oddly enough, an electrical outlet implanted in the grassy ground- his foot stepping on part of it. “An outlet?” He questions, knowing there shouldn’t be any out in this park at all.

Jojo sees it and scowls. “Shit, she already got you..” The chain from the jacket he wears under his cloak starts to rattle as it lifts slowly closer towards Kakyoin. “It’s starting already?” He looks at Kakyoin with a gravely serious expression. “Can you get us out of here?”

Kakyoin shakes his head, having already considered that course of action. “There aren’t enough surfaces for Hierophant Green to grab onto out here- we need to get back to the city.”

“Fine. For now-” He looks at the woman still being held captive by Hierophant Green. “Toss her- as far away and as hard as you can.”

Kakyoin looks at the woman with a smirk, clearly thrilled by the idea of putting the rude woman in her place. “With pleasure.”

The woman’s face begins to change from its earlier cockiness to an enraged glare. “Don’t you fucking dare, you pieces of-” The rest of her sentence turns into a scream as he reels back with Hierophant Green and hurtles her with all of the strength his stand possesses, her face turning into an almost comical depiction of anger. “SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIITTTTTTTTT!!!!!!!!”

As she gets further and further away, the chain on Jojo’s jacket settles down once again. “We need to go- now.” He grabs Kakyoin by the hand and uses the other to pick up Iggy, the dog still engaged in its fight with the blonde man.

Iggy growls at first when he’s picked up, but settles down once he’s placed on Jojo’s shoulder to face behind the large boy. He’s still glaring at the blonde man and keeping his stand focused on blocking his shots as well as any ice that gets shot at them by the falcon’s stand. “Grrr..”

“I hate using the old man’s technique, but I guess we don’t have much of a choice.” Jojo keeps a firm hold on both of them. “This will feel weird, so close your eyes for a second.”

Kakyoin nods, unsure what Jojo is planning, but he trusts him and does as he’s told. “Got it.” He feels a strange sensation, like he’s being lifted, before he opens his eyes again and sees that they’re now outside of the park with Jojo still holding his hand and leading him down the street at a rapid pace. He stumbles for a moment before regaining his footing. “Huh?!” He blinks in surprise and looks around rapidly in confusion- he’d only had his eyes closed for a second! Did Jojo’s stand have the power to teleport?! “How did you do that?!” He asks while running with Jojo and keeping an eye out for their enemies following them.

“I can stop time.” Jojo replies while heading for a part of the city that was more dense with buildings.

“You can WHAT?!” Kakyoin asks, truly astonished. Jojo’s stand was seriously powerful!

“Stop time. It’s only for a few seconds, though, and the cool down period sucks..” He says right before he hears gunshots and a loud screech from the falcon. “Damn it..Iggy, cover us!”

Iggy barks in response, summoning The Fool again just in time to block more of those moving bullets and a few icicle missiles. “Arf!”

Kakyoin spots a building ahead and leads Jojo to it by their still held hands. “This way!” They round a corner near it and he calls out his stand. “Hierophant Green!” His stand reappears and wraps itself around Kakyoin, Jojo, and Iggy, quickly pulling them up onto the rooftop and out of sight.

______________________________________________________________

Down below, the blonde man is letting the falcon perch on his shoulders as he runs since its wings are still injured. He looks in every direction after going around the same corner their targets had and swears loudly. “God damn it! Where the hell’d they go?!” He tosses his hat on the ground in a fit of frustration. “Dio’s gonna have my head if we go back without that brat!”

The falcon shrieks something at him and looks upwards pointedly.

He looks up as well and whispers quietly. “Hm..ya don’t say..” A smirk appears on his face as he retrieves his hat from the ground and shakes off the dirt before placing it back on his head. “Come on, Pet Shop- they gotta be ‘round here somewhere!” He shouts loud enough to be heard from a distance before running off down the street.

The bird shrieks back in response, something like a smirk appearing on its beak as well.

________________________________________________________________

Kakyoin arrives back at the factory with Iggy and Jojo, using his Hierophant Green to get each of them inside. “That was a close call- are all of your family’s servants stand users?”

“Just the high-ranking ones.” Jojo replies as he lands on the other side of the window. “They all work for our advisor.”

“Guess that means they’re tired of waiting for you.” Kakyoin gives Jojo a thoughtful, concerned look once they’re all inside. “You have been gone a while..your family must be getting worried by now if they’re willing to send people like that after you.”

Jojo shoves his hands in his pockets and turns away, walking off towards Kakyoin’s bedroom. “Like I said, I’m not ready to go back. I’ll leave when I feel like it- they can send whoever the hell they want.”

“Still..” Kakyoin sighs and follows him towards his room- the small office having unofficially become THEIR room since Jojo started staying with him. “It must be nice having people who’d miss you..if I went missing, the only one who might look for me would be Iggy- and I honestly doubt even that much..” He says with a small smile while glancing back to watch Iggy climb up onto his favorite crate to sleep.

Jojo pauses at the door to the room, looking down quietly as Kakyoin unlocks it with Hierophant Green. “……”

Once the door is open, Kakyoin walks inside, moving his arms up to stretch them above his head before lacing his fingers behind himself casually. “I think I might heat up the instant noodles for dinner- sound good?” When he doesn’t receive an answer right away, he turns back to look at Jojo with a raised eyebrow. “Jojo?”

Jojo is standing in the doorway, eyes still on the floor and unmoving. “……”

“Jojo?” Kakyoin tries again. When he still doesn’t receive an answer, he walks up to the larger teen and leans down and to the side slightly so that he can slip into Jojo’s field of vision and allow the other boy to see his concerned expression. “What is it?” He doesn’t bother to ask if something is wrong, the answer to that is easy enough to read on the slightly irritated-looking frown on Jojo’s face.

“……” Jojo finally looks him in the eyes, but takes a minute to say anything. “…I’d look for you.” He finally speaks, the expression on his face having that same intensity and sincerity from earlier in the park when he told Kakyoin that he liked him.

He takes one hand out of his pocket and reaches for Kakyoin’s own. He pauses just before he reaches the redhead’s hand, his own fingers flinching back slightly before he pushes back whatever hesitation he’s feeling and grabs Kakyoin’s hand the same way he did back in the park- firm but gentle, and with a light squeeze that communicates a thousand thoughts and feelings that neither of them could likely ever put into words.

Kakyoin’s face heats up. His heart skips a beat in his chest. His palms feel sweaty, even the one that Jojo isn’t holding.

This feeling bubbling up within his chest…it’s new. He’s never felt it before, but he’s learned enough about it through stories and observations to know what it is:

Love.

It’s hard to say what level it is, whether it’s a mere crush or something much deeper, but the fact that he’s feeling it AT ALL is new and alarming and amazing all at once.

A thought occurs to Kakyoin that he should probably say something in return. “I..” He swallows, his throat suddenly far too dry. “I would too.” He looks down slightly, unable to meet Jojo’s stare with the heat singeing through his face. “I know you’ll have to leave eventually..but..I really do like you, Jojo..I value the time we spend together and, even though it would be difficult, I would still find a way to see you again. You..You mean too much to me not to..” He squeezes Jojo’s hand back, hoping that it will get across everything else he’s not able to put into words in that moment.

The very small smile Jojo gives him, nothing more than an upward quirk of the lips on one side, and the way he squeezes Kakyoin’s hand again tells him that yes, he understands. He looks back up at Jojo and returns the small smile with one of his own, glad to know they could still understand each other on such a level, even on something as complicated as this.

They spend the rest of the evening cooking dinner (meaning putting batteries in the small electrical hotplate and warming up some bottled water that was poured into a kettle so they could eat their instant noodles and other snacks), eating, and just lying comfortably next to each other on the bed. There is no need for conversation, no need to force physical intimacy that neither of them are ready for, no need to rush into anything just yet because what they have is already enough for the time being.

Kakyoin doesn’t complain when he falls asleep with Jojo spooning him from behind, one large, warm arm wrapped around his waist to hold him close to the other’s strong body.

He doesn’t complain one bit…

<-Previous Chapter Next Chapter->

End Notes: Thanks again for your patience, everyone. Hopefully this chapter will be a good appeasement for now ^///^"

#JoJo's Bizarre Adventure #Jojo no Kimyou na Bouken #Jotaro Kujo #Noriaki Kakyoin #jotakak #jotokak #jotaro x kakyoin #iggy (jjba)#hol horse #mariah #iggy #pet shop #prince nori

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kayr0ss · 4 years

Text

Ribs

[LWA, Diakko, growing up, timing, kind of angsty at the start, BUT very hopeful, inspired by a song ty Lorde, emotional author, I guess a song fic?]

You don’t always need to get it right the first time.

You can listen to the song when the fic cues it, but it might be confusing so feel free to listen to Ribs by Lorde after.

—–

“We’re just so—so—”

Akko couldn’t look at Diana. She bit her lips, trembling, and somehow the brunette knew that meeting those eyes would bring her over the edge and straight into bawling.

“—so young,” she finally supplied, voice wavering.

Diana’s lips were pressed into a thin line. Keep it in, she clenched her jaw. Keep it in because the slightest crack will make you fall apart.

“I never thought you’d be the one worried about that between the two of us,” the blonde witch managed a dry laugh. She looked down at her hand, finding it out of place so far away from Akko’s. She wanted to hold her.

Akko had no response, though—and reaching over didn’t feel like an option.

They sat on the grass of Luna Nova’s grounds, the sky a deep, inky violet dotted by stars whose formations they’ve memorized after years of instruction. Did a good day really need to feel so… bad? Graduation had crept upon them like a vine left unchecked, and before they knew it they were being pulled apart—apart by continents, time zones, and the sudden realization that they didn’t know if tomorrow promised them the opportunity to stay together.

“When did we put up this wall?” Diana finally broke through, hugging her knees close to her chest while she lifted her gaze towards Orion’s belt.

“W—When we started worrying?” Akko sputtered out, shaky and unsure.

“When we realized,” Diana wondered out loud, “that things aren’t as absolute as we thought, maybe.”

It was a bitter, melancholic thought. Responsibility is something Diana is used to—and growing older and into the world just meant more of the same. She could take it. It wouldn’t be easy, but it wouldn’t be anything new. But Akko—she spared a quick glance to the quivering girl sitting so close yet so far away—Akko wasn’t used to this. The fraying of their rope began when Diana asked a question that Akko was all-to used to skipping: “How do we make this work?”

“We’ll wing it!” she blocked away the query without so much as a thought. But that was two years before the absolute separation of graduating and living half-way across the globe from each other.

A year before their term ended, Akko’s absolute rebuttals had turned into, “We’ve always managed… somehow.”

Three months before the term ended, when asked again, Akko grew irritable. “Why are you always thinking about the future?! We have right now.”

Suddenly time was up.

Diana could feel thorns press into her chest—she couldn’t take it, no—“can’t we break through?”

Two hours before they had to leave campus for the last time as students, Akko drew a teary-eyed sigh.

“I’m scared.”

“You’ve never been before.”

“How do I fit in in that life of yours?”

“We’ll break down this wall.”

“I—” Akko sobbed into her arms. “I—I’m sorry.”

All the constraint had finally become overwhelming. With a heavy, shaky breath, a small sob had broken through.

She cried, but Diana didn’t want this to be the last image of the first girl she ever loved.

“Maybe time will tear the wall away,” she rubbed at her eyes, looking up towards the Big Dipper. Hoping, holding onto a thin thread and hoping—because that is all she has to hold on to for now.

–

The sudden silence of music stopping jolted Diana awake. She blinked her tiredness away, eyes scanning her immediate surroundings, registering that she was on a bus, in a foreign city she had called home for quite a few years by now.

A dream… a memory? She hadn’t thought about her in a while.

Luckily, she wasn't due to disembark until the next stop, and she leaned her shoulder against the glass window while the familiar hiss of the door closing mixed in with the ambient noise of a busy city—it was all a little muffled through muting of her earphones. The sky was dark enough for the first set of city lights to flicker on, but still light enough that the scenery was basked in blue instead of black.

[ Ribs – Lorde ]

Huh. She snuck glance to her smart watch, matching the title of next song to the ethereal voices and synthesizers that made up its introduction. She nearly laughed when the first droplets of rain pitter-pattered against the window pane, thinking that the view of lights blurring past her in a blue-and-violet sky matched the song poetically. Good enough to be a—a—she wrestled with her train of thought, looking for a world a special girl from years past had taught her. Ah. A music video.

She looked up to and wondered if she’d see the big dipper if the clouds didn’t decide to hide it for this evening.

[The drink you spilt all over me]

Soft beeping and a polite announcement let her know that it was time alight. She pulled out a folded umbrella, in much too contemplative a mood to feel vexed at the sudden downpour. It wasn’t so heavy, anyway.

The walk to her apartment was a different experience together when you couldn’t hear the noise—the music drowned out any other sound, and she somehow felt like an outsider; like she was still on the bus and watching other people go about their lives through a glass pane. A new to experience the monotony of going to work, school, and then coming home. Of growing older.

[The drink you spilt all over me – “lovers spit” left on repeat mom & dad let me stay home, it drives you crazy getting old The drink you spilt all over me – “lovers spit” left on repeat mom & dad let me stay home, it drives you crazy getting old’]

There’s a soft lull in the music while it braces for another act; and in this space—as if the music decided to take a breath—she heard jarring familiar,

“Mou!”

Diana takes a sharp breath, and nearly makes a full 180-degree turn.

“I’m never going to find my apartment before dark at this rate!”

Her mouth hangs open but she doesn’t speak—the blonde witch finds herself enraptured; waiting for the apparition in front of her to finish speaking as if to confirm that this was—real.

“Kami-sama, help me!” Red eyes rolled in exasperation and she’s talking to no-one in particular. She still has that silly ponytail sticking up from her hair. The brunette looks around, no doubt trying to discern if North was actually South or vice-versa by the way she was turning her cellular phone around and over.

Maybe time can tear it down.

Diana is walking towards her, afraid that she’ll disappear behind every pedestrian that obstructs her line of sight. She tries several times to call out; to say her name, but it gets caught in her throat and before the fourth try the woman in question catches her line of sight.

The sparkle in her eyes, and the way her mouth had formed a perfect ‘O’ spoke a thousand more words than ‘hello’

“H—Hello.” But Diana went for ‘hello’ anyway. “Akko.”

“Diana,” Akko replies, eyes tracing the blonde witch’s features as if to confirm this wasn’t some scam. “It’s been…”

“…seven or eight?” Diana can’t help but beat her to it. She didn’t realize she was keeping track. “Years, I meant.”

There’s a tentative silence, poorly filled in by the sound of idle chatter, footsteps, and engines cruising down the street. A night-time noodle stall is setting up shop near where they’re standing, and the lack of words was beginning to get unbearable.

“Is that gray hair?”

Akko breaks the tension away like it was nothing. Diana missed that grin so, so much.

“It’s the lighting.”

She also missed feeling that mixture of tenderness and annoyance uniquely caused by this woman.

“Suuure it is.”

Diana rolled her eyes playfully. “You’re a few thousand kilometers away from home.”

“According to this app, actually, I’m only about 20 yards away. Just don’t know which direction those yards might be.”

Diana slips into an easy smile, “I’m just down the street.”

They don’t notice that the rain has stopped, and that the big dipper is sparkling fondly above them through a clearing in the clouds. The wall is gone—and while Diana looks into crimson eyes she wonders if hope is a thread that pulls them apart so they can be stitched together in the right time and places.

“Shall I show you around the city?”

Akko’s hand feels familiar when she takes Diana’s open palm. She laughs lightly. “We have to find my new house first.“

–

A/N: Hello. I’m writing from the heart and what I’m currently going through. I don’t know what to do with this longing and hope, so I’ll just turn it into a story. Ribs by Lorde could give more perspective so I encourage you to listen.

And if the girl I met through writing stories sees this, know that this is what I wish for us after maybe 8 years of healing on our own. I will see you then, wherever that is, when I come down from the bus stop.

#Diakko #Diana #Akko #Diana Cavendish #Atsuko Kagari #Dianakko #LWA #Little Witch Academia #wlw #Femmeslash #fanfic #writing #angst #growth #second chances

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multisugars · 4 years

Text

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 — when their s/o gets a tattoo

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧 — Hiii can i request a outsiders reaction where they react to their gf getting a tattoo that she’s been trying to hide or something!? TY ❤️

i freakin love this idea!! thanks for requesting xx

𝙙𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙮

during your freshman year of high school you and a few friends had given yourself stick and poke tattoos please don’t ever try this it’s actual torture it was a small butterfly on your wrist, you actually really liked it but since you and darry had been dating you’ve never showed it to him. you don’t believe he’d be too bothered by a little tattoo but it’s more embarrassing than anything. the wings are uneven, it’s slightly faded and definitely looks like it was done by a child.

one night when the two of you are working on supper darry asks for your help.

“hey babe can you grab the salt?” he asks politely.

“here you go,” as you hand him the shaker your sleeve had risen up above your wrist.

he spots the butterfly and you try to change the subject before he can ask you about it.

“so uh are the boys going to be home in time for supper? maybe we should make extra..”

“y/n,” darry cuts in. “it’s okay.”

“it’s just a stupid little th- wait what?” you ask.

“it’s just a tattoo i don’t care about it,” he shrugs. “i think it’s cute.”

he pulls your arm towards him, turning your hand so he can see the tattoo in its fullest, he trails his long fingers along the worn out lines of color.

“it’s part of you, that’s why i love it.”

𝙨𝙤𝙙𝙖𝙥𝙤𝙥

it wasn’t your proudest moment. last night, when you went out with friends you all made the spontaneous decision to get matching tattoos tramp stamps to be more specific. it seemed like a fun idea at the time, but waking up in the morning to a burning pain and some kind of wrap around your lower abdomen made you want to punch yourself. through out the day you tried your best to hide this from sodapop. you were doing okay until he hugged you from behind, the friction of of the wrap made a weird squealing sound as your shirt was pushed against it. this draws sodapop’s attention, before you can stop him he already has your shirt lifted up.

“Y/N WHAT EVEN IS THAT?!” soda gasps when he spots the rather large tattoo on your lower back.

“NOTHING JUST PUT MY SHIRT DOWN!” you barely manage to escape his grasp.

you stand with your body against the wall, eyes wide while you try to think of a believable excuse.

“is that real?” soda asks walking towards you. “lemme see it..” he reaches for your arm but you run.

“no way! it’s too embarrassing!”

“y/n!!! get back here!” he calls after you.

“you’ll never catch me- AAAH!” you scream as soda picks you up throwing you over his shoulder.

𝙥𝙤𝙣𝙮𝙗𝙤𝙮

“my god y/n are you serious?!” ponyboy leans down to get a closer look at the tattoo on your ankle.

“it was a spur of the moment kind of thing!”

it really was to, your sister had been back from college for a visit. every summer you two have always gone to the pier where they have a whole bunch of fun festivities, this year you saw that they had set up a tattoo tent, that also offered henna. the two of you picked a design that looped all the way around your ankle, you first believed that it was a henna design but after you heard the tattoo gun start and make contact with you skin you couldn’t change your mind. luckily for your sister, she told the artist not to make hers permanent.

“it’s actually not that bad,” pony says which undoubtedly makes you feel a whole lot better.

“you really think so?”

“i do,” he smiles warmly as he leans down once again, this time to roll your pant leg up so it’s now visible. “show it off.”

𝙙𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙖𝙨

“ouch dal stop it!” you wine pushing him away.

you had just gotten a tattoo of stars behind your ear it was still extremely sore, especially when dallas was trying to kiss you there. he hasn’t yet realized it, which has been your goal. when it heals all the way that’s when you planned on showing him, but you can see he’s getting a tad bit suspicious because he knows how much you love when he leaves tiny kisses behind your ear wink wink. he looks at you with confusion spread across him face.

“are you rejecting me right now?” he smirks.

“no i’m just not in the mood,” you turn on your heel walking at a fast pace in front of him.

you can hear him laughing from behind you, he didn’t seem to be falling for your petty attempt of an excuse and from the years of dating you’ve never been able to successfully lie to dallas without him knowing. this has ruined so many birthdays you’ve planned.

“not in the mood huh?” dallas whispers when he finally catches up to you. he brushes your hair out of the way exposing your bare neck.

“woah what is this?!” he exclaims as you feel his cold hands run along your skin.

“it’s a tattoo..”

“when did you get it?” dallas asks clearly shocked.

“yesterday night! i wanted to surprise you..”

“consider me surprised.”

𝙟𝙤𝙝𝙣𝙣𝙮

“it’s beautiful y/n,” johnny admires your new ink from a safe distance. he doesn’t want to touch it out of fear that it’ll hurt you since it’s still fresh and healing.

“thank you,” you blush. “i think she would love it.”

you try to hold back tears as you think about your grandma who had passed away just a few weeks ago. this wasn’t something you felt like you had to hide from johnny, since you told him everything. he was always so supportive of your decisions and has been there for you ever since her passing. you decided to get a pair of angel wings in her honor, it was on your ribcage which you later found was one of the most painful spots to get a tattoo.

“do you need some ice or somethin?” he asks concerned at the redness of your skin.

“no no it’s fine, it’s suppose to be a little swollen.”

“well alright,” johnny pulls down your shirt laying back down beside you.

“maybe someday we can get matching ones!”

“i’ll get back to you on that one,” he laughs.

𝙩𝙬𝙤-𝙗𝙞𝙩

two-bit honestly couldn’t care less about you having a tattoo. it was something he found endearing since he was the only person that knew about it. when he felt like being a tease he’d run his hand along your thigh where your tattoo was. he would though make jokes about it when you were around the gang or family since you were the only one that would get it. most times he’d beg you to get his name done somewhere on your body, but you tell him no.

“cmon i’ll get your name to,” he offered excitingly.

“absolutely not! what if you fall in love with someone else huh?” you question. “then you’d have to explain why you have another girls name on you.”

two-bit shakes his head. “that would never happen.”

“oh yeah? and why not?” you ask playfully.

he reaches into his pocket, pulling out a small box. you look at him shocked. this can’t be what you think it is? can it?

“two-bit are you-”

“i’ve been wanting to ask you this for awhile now.....”

𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙫𝙚

he wasn’t one for keeping secrets, and neither were you. as soon as you showed him the start of your sleeve on your arm he squealed with excitement, since obviously he is also a fan of tattoos. he was taken aback at how long you kept it hidden from him since you always slept in the same bed together and usually wore a tank top. when the two of you met up with the gang later in the day it wasn’t long before he let the news out.

“y/n got a tattoo!” steve blurts out.

“what no way..” dallas turns to you shocked.

“wanna bet on it?”

you take off your sweater exposing your upper arm and the room fills with loud gasps.

“wow steve she’s tougher than you,” darry adds. “her first tat is way bigger than yours was.”

“shut your trap!” steve says shoving darry’s arm.

“didn’t know your girlfriend was such a badass,” dallas said as he lit a cigarette.

“now you do,” you retort.

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writingkeepsmewhole · 3 years

Text

Tattoos

This is part 4 of Angel Eyes sorry for not posted in ages. But I found this on a flash drive from like 2017 so I edited and thought I should post it. I hope you like it.

Fic Summary: This is backstory to kind help people understand Dean and Callie’s relationship. Sam, Dean and Callie go get tattoos :P

Dean Winchester x OC Claudia

Warnings: Language maybe?

Taglist: Let me know if you want to be tagged. @magssteenkamp @deanwanddamons @lemondropirwin @vicmc624 @lilulo-12 @eternalevie @all-will-be-well-love @akshi8278

Part 1 Part 3

Walking into the bathroom I bent over untying my boots. Kicking them off I stood up and met my green eyes in the mirror. Reaching up to take my hair down I stopped when there was no longer a black string around my wrist. I quickly opened the bathroom door shocking Sam he was behind it and I almost hit him.

"What's wrong?" Dean asked dropping his bags by the door and walking up to me. I was taken back when he grabbed my arms softly as if I was going to pass out.

"I lost my antipossion charm." I say biting my lip.

"You what?" Dean and Sam asked, clearly mad.

"I didn't mean to. It was on my wrist and I guess it must have broke."

"Great, what are we going to do now? I doubt Booby just has another one laying around." Dean asked, throwing up his arm and walking away from me.

"Even if he did, who says she wont lose it again." Sam says sitting on the bed.

"I'm right here, ya know. Maybe it's in the hotel room."

"We just got here. I doubt you lost it in the past five minutes." Sam said.

"Well it's not like I can just tattoo the thing to me." I said throwing up my arms and moving to the door shutting it, probably a little too rough., but I hate being treated like I'm five.

"Wait a minute." Dean says, making me turn to face him.

"Why not get it tattooed. It would get rid of having to keep up with it. And plus its one sure way, no demon would ever get into us ever again."

"That's not a bad idea." I say agreeing. "I always wanted to get a tattoo anyways." I say shrugging.

"And what if I don't." Sam says standing up.

"Oh come on Sammy it's common sense, to get one." Dean says lifting his hands.

"Yeah, it's the smart thing to do." I say smiling, getting butterflies about the thought of getting tattooed.

"Oh and what are we meant to tell the person that does it?" Sam asks.

"The truth. It looks like some tribal tattoo that people walk around with all the time. The worse case they think we are weirdos but there still going to do it." I say sitting down beside Dean on the bed.

"Callie is right, money is money. They don't care as long as they get paid."

"What if they only take cash?"

Sighing I throw my head back hitting Dean's shoulder.

"Then we go to the bar, play a little pool and go back. With cash. Why are you so against getting a tattoo?" I ask

"Yeah, Sammy it can be on your ass for all I care." Dean says laying back on the bed's headboard making me fall, sence I was still leaning on him.

Glaring up at him I sat back up, only getting a small laugh out of him.

"How do we even know it will work?"

Sighing again I laid back on Dean's legs reaching back to grab my phone off the nightstand. Flipping it open I pressed 3 it calling Bobby.

"Callie, it's 1AM what the hell do you want?" Bobby answered sound sleepy and mad.

"Sorry Bobby. I didn't realize it was so late but I have a important question."

"About what?" He said trying to be helpful but not hiding his anger.

"The charms you gave us. If we tattoo the symbol to ourselves will that work the same as wearing them?"

"What kind of idjit are you? Of course it will work. Next time you decide to bother me while I'm sleeping make sure it's a damn good question."

"Sorry Bobby, just wanted to make sure."

"Yeah, yeah."

"I'll let you go back to sleep. Good night Bobby. Sweet Dreams."

"Yeah, I'll bet." He says hanging up.

"He is mean when he is sleepy." I say looking up at Dean as I close my phone.

"What did he say?" Sam asked.

"Looks like your getting inked up, buttercup." I say smiling at him.

Sighing, he clenched his jaw.

"I'll be in the car. Hurry up." He says walking out to the car grabbing his jacket as he went.

"I think he needs a nap. He is a little grumpy." I say looking back up at Dean.

"I think you're right. Better not keep him waiting." He says smiling, clearly enjoying this as much as me.

Sitting up I walk to the bathroom grabbing my shoes and sitting on the tub to put them back on.

"Where do you think I should get it?" Dean asked leaning against the door frame to the bathroom.

Looking up at the ceiling I bit my lip, thinking of where a tattoo would look good on Dean. The first thing was anywhere. Shaking away that thought. I thought of where I like tattoos on guys.

"Hmm... Shoulder, shoulder blade, or chest." I say tying my boot and pulling on the other one.

"What about you. Where are you going to get it?"

"I don't know. I don't want it super viable. Like I don't want to have to worry about people being like what's that?"

"I think you should get it on your ribs." Dean says as I finish tying the other boot.

"Why the ribs. That's the worse place to get a tattoo." I say standing up and walking out of the bathroom, feeling Dean follow me.

"Well one because it's hot and two I know you can take the pain." He says making blood rush to my cheeks.

"Is that so?" I ask turning to face him, a smirk finding my lips.

I almost smack myself for how flirty that sounds but it's hard not to when you have Dean in front of you.

"Yeah. You're kinda a badass." He says smirking and winking at me.

I laugh softly, him joining me. Rolling my eyes I shake my head a little.

"Maybe." I say walking to the door, stepping out into a soft sprinkle.

"Rain!" I say smiling up at the sky loving the cool drops on my heated cheeks.

"What was about not being five?" Dean asked behind me and pinched my side, making me jerk a little.

"Shut up." I say sticking my tongue out at him, earning a laugh.

I jump when Baby's horn goes off. Looking at Dean's price postion I see Sam sitting in the front seat looking like a parent who just cought his child having sex.

"Again, I repeat, grumpy." I say looking back at Dean and stepping off the curb to get into the car.

"Why not bug him a little more." Dean says opening the driver door for me.

Taking the hint I get in and move to the middle, Sam clenching his jaw making me laugh.

"Oh don't be so grumpy. It's only a little seat sharing." I say poking his hard jaw.

"Just can we get this over with?"

"Damn Sam, Bobby is not the only one that’s mean when he is tired." Dean says starting the car backing out.

"I just want to get this done so I can take a shower and get a few hours in before I have to get up in the morning."

"Hey, you're the one who wants to run before dawn." I say shrugging.

One look from Sam is enough to make me shut up and hold up my hands as a surender. I lean into Dean to get away from Sam before he bursts a blood vessel. Feeling bad for now getting up front, for wanting to bug him more.

Maybe feeling the same or seeing Sam's face. Dean lays his arm over my shoulders and pulls me closer to him, giving Sam as much space as he can get with all of us up front. Leaning into Dean's side I close my eyes and just listen to the rain picking up and hitting the Impala's roof. Moving his arm down, I shift slightly laying my head on Dean's shoulder, feeling completely relaxed. No not relaxed. At home.

When Dean's neck starts vibrating with him humming I let myself enjoy it till the point of my eyes don't want to stay open anymore.

I softly smack Dean's chest, making him stop.

"What was that for?" He asks sounding shocked.

"You're making me fall asleep." I say a yawn leaving my mouth, making a laugh leave Dean's.

"Dean, maybe we should go back to the motel. Let Callie sleep."

"Oh your not getting out of this that easy, buttercup." I say sitting up and looking at him, making me slightly dizzy but I ignore it, it fading quickly.

"Yeah, because we are here." Dean says pulling into the parking lot of a tattoo and piercing shop.

Getting out of the car, I quickly follow Dean to escape the picking up rain.

"Welcome. What can I do for you?" Asks the tattooed bearded main at the front desk.

"Hi, we're looking to get a tattoo. We heard this was the place to come." Dean says, making the man laugh.

"Well that'll be right. I'm Chet, nice to meet you." Chet says holding out his hand to Dean.

"Dean." He says taking it.

"And you Miss?" He asks looking down at me.

"Callie." I say waving and smiling.

"And the tall fella?" He asks looking over me at Sam.

"Oh that sour thing is my little brother Sammy. Sammy come say hi." Dean says waving him over.

"It's Sam." He says holding his hand out to Chet.

"Well, nice to meet you folks. So like I said before, what can I do for you?"

"We all three want this." Sam says handing Chet a piece of paper with the simbel roughly graw on it.

"You draw this yourself?" Chet asks, taking the picture and looking down at it stroking his beard.

"Yeah, I did. Look, not to be rude, but can we hurry this up I would really like to get some sleep." Sam says, looking tired.

"Well just slow down there a minute." Chet says not even the least bit surprised with Sam's mood.

"How big are you three talking? Because if you want something huge It's going to be more than one trip. Plus you have how are you going to pay and where you want it at."

"No bigger than three inches." I say getting an agreement from both the boys.

"Altight. That will be 75 each. That's without color."

"You take credit?" Dean asks.

"Yes, sir we do."

"Well, let's do this." Dean says, pulling out his wallet and handing him his card.

I'm a little surprised when he doesn't look at it or ask for ID.

"Alright, well let me go draw this up and you three can talk about where you want it and who goes first." Chet says taking the picture Sam drew and walking in the back.

"Sam you can go first." I say sitting on one of the black leather couches, Dean sitting beside me.

"Why do I go first?" Sam asks sitting in a plastic chair across from us.

"Because you won't have to wait you can go out and sleep in the car while we get ours done." I say like it's obvious.

"Okay sure, whatever."

"Man he really is tired." Dean says laying his arm on the back of the couch.

"Yeah, well it will be over soon and we will never have to worry about it again." I say smiling up at Dean, because I would probably just get a glare from Sam.

On the note I could feel his death glaze burn a hole in my head.

"So did you decide where you are going to get yours?" I ask, whoever wants to answer.

"I'm working on it." Dean says winking at me, making me roll my eyes.

"What about you Clauda?" Sam asks

"Still thinking." I say biting my trying to think of where would be the best place.

All three of us fall into a comfortable silence waiting on Chet. He returns around thirty minutes later.

"Alright I got everything all set up. So who is going first."

Both me and Dean pont to Sam.

"Alright, son, follow me back." Chet says holding the beads hanging over the door out of Sam's way.

"Be nice!" I say getting a Yeah, Yeah and a wave from him.

Chet laughs and walks thru the door with Sam in front of him.

"So, you really don't know where you are getting yours?" Dean asks looking down at me.

"No, everywhere I think don't seem right." I say biting my lip.

"I have an idea." Dean says.

"Oh gosh." I say covering my face, slightly worried.

"Well at least hear me out first."

"Okay fine, fine. What is your idea?" I ask, looking up at Dean to meet bright green eyes.

"You pick for me and I pick for you." He says shrugging.

"That way if we can get an outsider's thoughts on it."

Smiling, I nod my head.

"You know I really like that." I say, saying exactly how I felt.

"See and you didn't trust me."

"Oh, I trust you. I trust you get me into trouble by putting it on my forehead."

Laughing Dean ran his hand down his face.

"I was thinking more your cheek but if that's what you want to go with, its your face darlin'.'' He says pulling me closer to him and tickling me softly.

Giggling I push his hands away, just as Chet and Sam walk out.

"Well that was fast." Dean says, sounding halfway disappointed.

"Yeah, I'll be out in the car." Sam says doing just that.

"Alright who's next."

"Me!" I say standing up and walking over to Chet.

"You gonna bring your boyfriend with you?" Chet asks nodding at Dean.

Blushing at the boyfriend comment, I ignore it and turn to face Dean feeling dumb since he is picking the spot for the tattoo.

"Oh, yes, yes, yes!" I say running to him and grabbing his forearm just to pull him up from his seat.

I hear Chet laugh behind us making me wonder exactly what life he thinks we have.

Following him back into the other room, Dean laces his fingers with mine making me smile up at him. He quickly returns it making my stomach do flips.

"Room three." Chet gestures to the last door.

Dean quickly takes the lead pulling me behind him. When we step into the room I can help the rush I get when I see the chair with the gun beside it.

"You okay?" Dean asks looking down at me.

"Yeah, why?" I ask, confused as why he would ask that.

LIfting our joined hands he lets go to show me how my hand is shaking.

"Oh. They're the good kind. Here feel my heart." I say taking his hand and placing it to my chest before I can think.

Realizing what I did I feel myself blush a little but I keep his hand there. He is my "boyfriend" after all.

Smiling Dean moves his hand up to my neck, pulling me to him to kiss my forehead.

"One hell of an adrenaline rush huh?" Dean asks moving so Chet can get to his spot beside the chair.

"So do we know where we want it?" Chst asks when he sets down.

"He does." I say pointing to Dean and moving back a little.

"Oh, alright what'll it be son?" He asks looking up at Dean.

"She wants it on her rib. Here." Dean says placing his hand on my right side just under my bra strap.

"And you're okay with that?" Chet asks looking at me, making eye contact. I guess to see if I’m lying.

"Yes, it's perfect." I say telling the truth.

Feeling all at once how I could not picture it anywhere else.

"Alright well take a seat, I'll fix the chair once you're on it. Dean there is a stool in the hall if you want to grab it so you have somewhere to sit."

"Alright." He says walking out of the room quickly returning since the stool was just outside the door.

"Is this your first tattoo?" Chet asked, fixing the chair so he could reach my rib easily.

"Yep." I say popping the P getting comfortable on my left side.

"Well let me tell you it's going to hurt a lot."

"She can take it." Dean says sitting on the stool my face becoming even with his belly.

"Well just let me know if you need to take a break. Don't worry though I got 20 years under my belt. Or should I say gun. You’re in good hands."

"Thanks Chet." I say smiling at him and laying my head on my left arm, my other one laying in front of me.

"Lift your shirt for me please." Chet says.

“I got it." Dean says before I can even move. Pulling my shirt up I feel as if it's in slow motion but maybe that's just because I'm suddenly very aware of how many scars I have on my stomach and hips.

I realize that it's not Dean seeing them, it's Chet. I can hear the questions now. But they never come. Instead I feel something like paper being stuck to my sink.

"So you from around here?" Chet asked, one of us.

"No. Road trip. She got it in her head that we all should get tattoos."

"Hey! It's for a good reason." I say sticking my tongue out at Dean even though he is not eye level with me. Well he is never eye level with me.

"About that if you don’t mind me asking. Your brother said something about it being in the family. He didn't make much since. He was not in a chatty mood.

"Yeah, it's been in his family for years. All the way back to the tribes. The people believed that it could keep you from getting posed." I say smiling a “what the hell smile”.

"Oh thats a new one."

"Yeah, but like I said she got it in her head. So it had to be done. But at the end of the day it's a badass tattoo."

"That it is." Chet said starting up the gun making a buzz fill the room.

"Ready?" He asked from behind me.

"Ready." I say as Dean seems to shrink down to my level. Him pulling the lever on the bottom of the stool. He still has to bend down a little to be eye to eye with me but that's better than nothing.

When the needle of the gun first touched my skin it felt like I was being punched so hard it made my ribs brake. Groning I clenched my jaw and grabbed onto the nearest thing which happened to be Dean's forearm.

"Are you okay?" Chet asked, pulling the gun from me.

"Yes" I say closing my eyes and groaning again.

"Man that hurts worse than getting sticked up." I say taking a deep breath thru my nose and blowing it out of my mouth.

"Should I keep going?"

"Yeah, keep going." I say moving my hand to Dean's.

Feeling the pain again I bit my lip so I didn't make a noise. It still hurts but this time I knew what to expect. It felt like someone was digging a white hot nail down my side.

After a minute it slowly turned into a dull pain as my skin in that spot went numb.

"Dean is it?"

"Yeah." Dean says pushing my raven hair off my face.

"You got a keeper. Never have I ever seen a first timer get a tattoo on their ribs and be this quiet or still."

"Yeah, she is good at that."

Laughing I moved my right arm over my head and looked down as best as I could watching Chet wipe away ink from my side.

Smiling at the butterflies again I laid my arm back down. Dean laying his hand on the back of mine lacing his fingers through mine.

"That scar on her hip. I walked in on her sewing it up herself." Dean said, sounding almost like he was bragging.

"Yeah and you should have heard the ear full I go for it." I say, smiling softly, my eyes closed.

It seemed to help with the pain, the less I talked. So that's what I didn't do. I lay there listening to Dean and Chet talk about me and what happened so I had to get sewn up. Dean came up with the lie that I was a nurse in afghanistan. That's where we met, that's where the scar he was talking about came from. If only it was that noble. When really it came from breaking up a bar fight between Dean and some dude hitting on me very, very hard. To the point I almost stabbed him. Dean did walk in on me sowing up and I did get an ear full. But it was not just him telling me how I should not have tried to break up the fight. Or sow myself up.

It had a mix of the crystal green his eyes get when he is hurting. It didn't take two glances to see that he was mad at himself more than me. He thought it was his fault.

Always dose.

"Callie you alright?" Dean asks, making me open my eyes and look up at him, a yawn leaving my mouth.

"Well I guess that answers my question." Chet said laughing.

"What?"

"I thought you passed out of something. I told him you were fine but he wanted to be sure."

"No, yeah, I'm okay. Just listening to you talk. Your voice is relaxing." I say smiling up at him, making him scratch the back of his head telling me I embarrassed him which didn't happen often.

"Well you're halfway done. So finish your nap." Dean says, trying to laugh it off.

"Thanks." I say smiling and closing my eyes.

Lucky me Chet started another conversation with Dean about what all he has hunted.

He went on about telling him something about a bear which I think was one of the werewolves we have killed or maybe a windigo.

"Alright, you are done." Chet said, turning off everything.

"Can I see?" I ask sitting up a little. An ache in my side.

"Let me clean you up first."

Nodding I layed back on the chair and poked Dean's chest making him look down at me.

"How's it look?"

"You'll like it." He says smirking down at me.

"I better." I say sticking my tongue out at him.

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