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freelancearsonist · 11 months ago

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in shades of gray and candlelight

➔ Marcus Pike x fem!Reader - 7.2k

➔ Nothing good starts in a getaway car, but you sure do have fun delaying the inevitable.

➔ Rated MA for artist!reader my beloved (reader is able-bodied, basic female anatomy and feminine pronouns used, reader is described as having hair that is long enough to be put up but otherwise she’s a blank slate), unprotected p in v sex, cum swallowing, creampie, semi-public sex acts, oral (r + m receiving), handjobs, fingering, very light switchy dom/sub dynamics, a couple spanks, pet names (sweetheart, pretty girl, baby, honey), heavy praise kink, light size kink, consent king!marcus, just like the song it does not end happily [please let me know if i missed any at all :)]

➔ this is my (first 😈) submission to @beskarandblasters Taylor Swift Drabble Challenge! i really did mean for this to be a drabble especially since i didn't know anything about marcus before receiving this prompt but he has my whole fucking heart and mind now 😩 thank you so much for the challenge lovely kel, and special thank u to my baby @fhatbhabie for betaing and screaming with me ily <3 (dividers by the amazing and talented @saradika-graphics)

You meet Marcus Pike on a Friday night and it’s obvious from the start that he’s going to change your life forever.

He looks a little disheveled when he enters the gallery–brown hair ruffled and standing up in places, tie loose, top shirt button undone. There’s an alluring five o’clock shadow burgeoning across his jaw and cheeks. He looks like he’s had a long day, and it’s only going to get longer. It’s all part of the plan, of course. He’s supposed to look like a standard blue collar worker, and he pulls it off with ease.

It’s the exhibition’s opening night, so it’s a little more packed than the gallery normally would be. It works in his favor–he’s able to collect a plastic cup of champagne from the refreshment table and blend seamlessly into the crowd.

His eyes are diligent as they scan the faces that come and go. He tries to commit them all to memory–the tall woman with the slight limp, the short guy wearing the Hawaiian patterned shirt. There’s dozens of people that pass by, and so many of them are forgettable. It’s exhibitions like these that make him dread undercover work.

The art on the walls isn’t exceptional, but it’s not bad. Nothing that seems worth stealing, that’s for sure. But his source is good, and his source said that this place was getting hit tonight. So he keeps his watchful eyes vigilant and pretends to sip the champagne in his hand.

Until he finds your exhibit.

There’s a depth to your art that he’s come to be familiar with–something he sees often in work of high value. Anyone can make abstract art, it’s as simple as flicking paint at a canvas. But few can charge it as emotionally as you have. To convey feeling and passion and heart through abstraction is a separate art form all its own, and it’s one you’ve mastered.

He’s seen original Rothko’s, Van Gogh’s, Kandinsky’s; he’s held their frames in his own two hands. But nothing’s ever made his breath hitch in his throat quite the way yours does.

He stands in front of a canvas simply labeled “Waves In Motion” with your name printed neatly underneath, brow creased with a concentration that seems a little unnecessary given the subject matter of the painting. It’s all shades of blue and violet, swirling together in a way that seems partly sensuous, partly violent. It makes the hair on the back of his neck prickle, and he takes a step closer. That’s when he notices it: a single dot of red paint right in the middle, a focal point of all the swirling cobalts. So small that he wouldn’t notice it if he wasn’t close; so small it could almost be interpreted as a mistake.

But he knows without having to ask that it’s not an answer. He wonders who that dot represents: you, the artist? Most likely.

Without meaning to, he smiles. It’s been a long time, years really, since a piece of art provoked such thought.

“Hi.”

The voice Marcus hears next to him is soft, dulcet. He doesn’t turn to the noise quickly–from the tone in that word alone he senses a hesitance, as if you’re a fawn that’s lost its mother and you’re bound to run if he makes any sudden movements.

And, truth be told, part of him thinks he might not be able to look away even if he tried right now. There’s something so beautiful about this painting–and underneath, something so ominous. There’s an air about the work that says he might unlock the secrets of the universe if he just keeps looking.

“Hi there.” He keeps his eyes trained on “Waves In Motion” as he responds–playing the game. He’s here to brush shoulders, after all; to be the right amount of forgettable yet memorable.

“This is my best, I think,” you murmur while taking a step closer. “It took the least time of all of them, surprisingly. But… I think when you know exactly what you’re trying to convey, it just comes to you easily.”

“These are yours?” There’s admiration in his eyes and an air of something akin to disbelief in his voice as he takes in the group of canvases proudly displayed on the plain white gallery walls.

And then he turns and lets himself take you in. More specifically the curling strand of hair that falls out of your updo to frame your face, the deeply plunging neckline of your dress, the way your calf muscles work even standing still in your high-heeled shoes. You’re a work of art in your own right; the most beautiful piece he’s seen in a long time.

“Yeah.” You duck your head–shyly, modestly–and he’s hooked. There’s one thing in this building that deserves awe and reverence more than your painting, and it’s you. “You know, you’re only the second person who’s come over tonight.”

“No way. They’re all just working their way back here,” he whispers before he can calculate a more articulate response.

But it works in his favor–your giggle is gorgeous, if a sound can be described that way. Sweet and syrupy, it seeps over him as if he’s standing under a cracked honeycomb. He hasn’t actually taken a drink of his champagne, and yet he can feel his nervous system tingling. You’re just that intoxicating.

“The gallery closes in half an hour,” you tell him–a little wistfully at that. “In my defense, I don’t have any family or friends in the area. I wasn’t really expecting anyone to show, not with so many other talented artists here.”

It seems so indignantly unfair to Marcus. That you’re shoved into the far back corner of the gallery, that people haven’t come in droves from all over the country to see your work.

“Where are you from?” He asks as his mind finally starts to clear from the haze it’s been in the past few minutes. With only half an hour left on the job, he allows himself a small sip of the drink that he’s been cradling all night.

“New York. This is actually only my second exhibition,” you explain, and you almost sound shy about it; as if you need to be embarrassed about being young and fresh-faced in the art industry, as if you aren’t the most talented artist Marcus has ever met in person.

He hums in response, eyes unconsciously dragging over you once more. “You came a long way for this.”

You smile so prettily up at him, and in that moment he sees something in your eyes. He can’t describe it–maybe it’s something akin to longing. Something incomplete, unexplored. It’s familiar; it’s the red dot from your painting. Solitary amidst the swirling, lost yet not hopeless.

And just like your painting, he finds himself wanting to get lost in your eyes.

“Well, it’s not every day a gallery wants to host you,” you say after another sip of your drink. “Plus, I’ve never been to Texas before, and I needed a change of scenery.”

There’s something so charming, so boyishly intoxicating about the smile he graces you with. “How are you liking it so far?”

“It’s hotter than I’m used to,” you say with a chuckle that he echoes. “And I haven’t been able to do any exploring yet, my flight only got in a couple hours before I had to be here.”

“That’s a shame,” he hums in a tone that reveals deeper meaning. “How long are you here for? Do you have any plans?”

“A week,” you murmur. Subconsciously he leans in closer, on the edge of his proverbial seat. To seal the deal, you lean in too. “And not a damned one.”

There’s no air between you and Marcus. You exist in a vacuum for this moment–unable to breathe, choking on anticipation. He’s so close, yet way too far away. You want to be consumed by him–for him to be swirling blue; and you, a single speck of red in his midst.

The moment shatters with an audible sound–a deep, penetrating voice. “He’s still not here, huh? I don’t think your boyfriend’s coming. If he even exists.” There’s something strange in the raspy voice that drawls these words–something strange enough to immediately put Marcus on the alert.

You flinch at the sudden intrusion into your vacuum, but you recover quickly. You have to, because this intrusive stranger is standing way too close and has way too much alcohol on his breath.

And then something strange happens–you worm your arm around Marcus’s waist and press yourself firmly into his side.

“Actually, he’s right here,” you say. There’s a quality to your voice that wasn’t there before when you were just talking to Marcus–it’s firm, clipped, bordering on hostile. “He just got held up at work. Isn’t that right, babe?”

Thankfully, Marcus has always been one to think quickly on his feet. He wraps his arm around your shoulders and pulls you closer, unconsciously moving an inch or two in front of you. Protecting without really meaning to. “I’m sorry, honey. I got here as soon as I could.”

The man–burly and balding, probably a good twenty years older than you–scoffs. “Unbelievable.”

“Is there a problem here?” Marcus draws up to his full height–towering a good few inches over this strange intruder.

Whoever this guy is, he’s not completely stupid. He senses this isn’t going to be a fight he’ll win, so he backs off. “Not at all, man. Just didn’t want little miss standing here all alone the whole night.”

“Thanks,” you say with bitter reprehension. You wind even closer to Marcus–closer than this sudden farce demands. “But we’re fine now.”

He nods once–curt and unhappy, but seemingly satisfied that he’s not going to get what he wants. “Have a good night, ma’am. Sir.”

Marcus takes a mental inventory of the man as he storms off, committing his physical description and his outfit to memory. He doesn’t look like a casual art viewer, and he doesn’t look like a collector. He’s exactly the type that Marcus came here to look out for.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper as you step out of Marcus’s personal space. “He’s been hovering all night, asking me who I’m going home with and shit.”

“That’s the other guy who came over to talk to you?” It brings a deep frown to his face, a crease forming between his brows. It certainly raises a red flag–if the guy has any eye for value, of course he would be drawn to your exhibit. And if he has an eye for value, he could be the guy Marcus came for.

“Yeah.” You rub the back of your neck awkwardly and avert your gaze, as if you should be embarrassed for drawing that guy’s attention. “It’s not been the greatest night.”

Marcus hates that. He hates that you came all this way to be let down, that this is only your second exhibition and you’ve had such a bad experience with it. More than anything, he hates that he can still see the spark in your eyes when you look up at him, and he can tell that it’s dimmed.

“Gimme just a minute.”

He doesn’t mean to be so abrupt, but he wants to make it quick. He hustles to the single-stall men’s room and tugs the radio out of his inside jacket pocket to call in the man’s description. Then he turns it off, tucks it back into its concealed pocket, and goes over to the sink.

He thought he looked perfect for the part he had to play when he left his house to come here. Now, he’s too disheveled. He wets his fingertips and tries to tame the mess on top of his head; he re-buttons his shirt and tightens his tie. He looks flustered, and he’s not even surprised by it. You’ve got his heart pounding with anticipation in a way he doesn’t think it ever has before.

Butterflies fluttering on in his stomach, he emerges from the restroom to resume his position by your side.

Except you’re not by your exhibit anymore, and the crowd has thinned considerably. He checks his watch and realizes there’s only five minutes before the gallery closes for the night. Maybe you’ve decided to cut your losses and leave early.

He hates the way his gut twists with disappointment, but then he reminds himself that he didn’t come here for you. He’s working, and he needs to stay vigilant. No distractions, no complications.

“You’re still here.”

There’s a wave of relief that washes over him as he hears your voice, and this time he’s not too timid to turn towards you. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Thought I might’ve scared you off.” There’s a fresh cup of champagne in your hand and a hint of vulnerability in your voice, and it makes his heart pick up pace just the slightest bit. You duck your head–that shy, modest gesture again. “I… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have just done that without permission.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he tells you, more earnestly than he’s ever said anything in his life. “I didn’t mind at all, I swear. Just had to hit the head.”

You look so deeply into his eyes he almost wonders if you aren’t looking through him. But whatever you find, you must like it.

He clears his throat and tries to not show how thoroughly unraveled he is by your gaze. “I’m Marcus, by the way.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Marcus.” You pause for a moment, and he can tell that there’s something else lingering on the tip of your tongue–so he remains silent in hopes of drawing it out.

“Do you have someone to go home to?”

There it is–the invitation he was both dreading and hoping for. He should really lie. He’s here on a job, after all–he’s supposed to avoid complications, and some instinct tells him you’re going to be much more than a simple distraction. But he’s told you the truth so far, and he doesn’t want to stop now.

“No. No, I don’t.”

This is everything that Marcus has never even considered doing. It’s late, it’s dark, it’s a little chilly for spring in Austin. The alley is grimey and drafty–your hair blows in the breeze even as you kneel down before him.

All he can do is stand there, dumbstruck with his back up against the rough brick wall, and stare down at you.

He’s still breathless from the way you’ve been kissing him–all heat and passion, fire and brimstone. Your hands ran through his hair and undid the effort he put in while in the bathroom, and his hands clutched your waist in a futile attempt to ground himself. Your lips are so soft; he thinks he could kiss you forever and never get tired of it. He was certainly planning on finding out, until you dropped to your knees in front of him.

“You… you don’t have to–”

But the way you look up at him through your lashes makes his throat close up around whatever protest he was going to try.

“I want to,” you assure him–more of a purr than a spoken statement.

And this really isn’t the place. He shouldn’t let you do this here. But he’d be lying if he said the thought didn’t make him harden in his boring gray work slacks.

Marcus has never been about excitement. He’s always strayed to the comfortable and familiar–he falls into the sweet, caring companion role with grace and ease.

And tonight doesn’t have to be that different. If you’re going to suck his dick in a dark, dingey alley, he’ll let you. But he’s going to lay his jacket down on the ground so you don’t scrape up your knees first.

You keen at the thoughtful gesture and grace him with a grateful smile as your adept fingers work his belt open. He’s straining against the seam of his pants now, begging for the attention that your gaze promises him.

If he didn’t know better, he’d think you’re every bit as eager to get his trousers and boxers down as he is.

And Lord help him, he delights in the gasp you emit when his cock springs free from its confines.

“Fuck, Marcus.” Your lips actually part as you freeze for a moment, just taking him in. He’s thick, maybe an inch longer than average, swollen head peeking through uncut skin as if begging for your waiting mouth. He curves to the left just a little bit, and you can almost see his pulse thrumming through the prominent vein that runs along the length of him.

“S’not that impressive,” he mumbles, and you know that he knows that he’s full of shit.

Your fingers almost don’t wrap all the way around him, and suddenly you’re second-guessing this back alley stint, too. You want him in bed. You want him deep inside you, kissing your face as he fucks you, hands all over your body, thrusts hard yet slow. You want it languid, you want it desperate, you want it any way he’ll give it to you. You don’t want to blow him and say goodbye.

He calculates your hesitation as something other than pure unadulterated lust, and he lifts your chin gently with his index and middle fingers.

“Hey, we don’t have to–”

Again, you cut him off–this time, by dragging your tongue from the seam of his balls all the way along his length to swirl messily around his tip. You taste every heady inch of him and then moan at the salty foreshadowing on your tongue when you catch a droplet of precum leaking from his slit.

Your hand springs into action with a long, slow stroke along his cock, and then you sink your mouth around him and he moans. Without caution or pretense, like you’re not in an alley that anyone could walk down at any moment. It’s a little more high-pitched than he’d like for it to be and his head thumps back against the brick wall hard enough to hurt, and even still he’s never felt so overwhelmed with pleasure before in his life.

Your nose meets the neat patch of hair at his base and your free hand comes up to his hip, effectively pinning him against the wall when he tries to buck greedily even further into your mouth.

No one’s ever taken him so relentlessly before. You’re insistent, pressing onward even as you gag on his length, and it makes his balls tighten in a way he’s never felt before. It’s like you’re hungry for him; like you’re doing this more for your own pleasure than for his.

Marcus Pike has been a giver his whole life. Tonight, with you, he finally decides to take.

He’d be embarrassed about how fast he comes if you weren’t so eager for it. You moan around him and push yourself as deep as you can, throat working around him desperately not to choke on the size of him. Before he can warn you he’s spilling into your mouth, maybe more than he’s ever come before, thick and salty but undeniably sweet too. You allow yourself a moment to savor him as he pulses in your mouth, tongue swirling around the sensitive head of him in a way that makes him shiver and whine.

He’s panting, nearly light-headed, when you finally pull off of him and press one last gentle kiss over his slit.

“Holy shit,” he murmurs, because there’s nothing else to say.

You giggle, and he realizes with a strange wistfulness that he would do anything to keep this girl–a girl he’s just met, a girl who’s leaving to go back to her home on the other side of the country in just a week–smiling and laughing the way she is now.

“My hotel is only a couple blocks away,” you tell him as he helps you to your feet. “Would you like a nightcap?”

You pick up his jacket and dust the grime off it–it makes him chuckle. Everything about this encounter has flown in the face of what he’s used to.

He’s never felt so alive.

“I would love a nightcap.”

Your senses wake up slower than normal.

First it’s your eyes–they tune in on the bright mid-sunrise light streaming through the open balcony blinds on the far wall. It falls in slivers and shards over the rumpled white hotel-standard bedding–the second thing your senses tune into. Everything is so soft and light, but it’s a little cold too. Especially the other side of the bed; there’s no heat remaining there at all.

You push yourself up with a grunt and let the sheets fall away from your bare torso, tired eyes scanning around the room. You notice clothes scattered all over the floor while your ears wake up enough to hear water running in the bathroom, and you can’t help the involuntary smile that spreads over your face. He’s still here.

Marcus lets the too-hot water wash over him in scalding waves, muscles still a little sore after a long night tangled together with you.

He checked his phone first thing this morning, and the gallery was quiet all night. They think the suspect he radioed in was the guy they were looking for, but they weren’t able to apprehend him. The running theory is that he might’ve recognized Marcus and decided low-value art wasn’t worth the hassle, but one guess is as good as the next until they can bait and catch the guy.

It’s the weekend now, and Marcus is thanking his lucky stars. Not only does he have a successful mission to celebrate, but he has the most beautiful woman in the world to celebrate it with.

He emerges after a few minutes, wet hair messily scattered over his forehead and wide hips straining against a low-slung hotel towel. He’s a languid Saturday morning wet dream on two legs.

“G’morning,” he hums with a smile–he doesn’t even try to hide the way his eyes dip down to hungrily take in your naked torso.

“Good morning, Marcus.”

He stalks towards you slowly, eyes darkening with each advancing step. It doesn’t take more than a second to realize he didn’t get his fill of your body last night, but you’re certainly not complaining.

He’s already starting to harden as he drops his towel and crawls over the foot of the bed, surging forward to capture your lips in a sweet kiss. If last night was desperation and passion, this morning is syrupy and sweet. He explores your mouth slowly, tongue sweeping between your lips and tracing every curve and ridge he can–almost like he’s trying to commit you to memory.

There are universes in the depths of his dark eyes. He may not say exactly what he’s thinking, but you can see it playing out in those baby browns of his. There’s something simmering underneath the surface–something more than just lust or desire.

Something dangerous.

You tug him closer and cup his face in your hands, enjoying the gentle scratch of morning stubble underneath your palms. He surges forward and presses you into the pillows as he settles himself comfortably between your spread legs.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs through kisses scattered along the length of your jaw.

You know you probably look like you got run over by a bus–you toss and turn in your sleep, and it always leaves your hair a matted mess. And that’s not even mentioning the slight tremble in your thighs, left over from Marcus’s enthusiastic attention last night. But there’s so much sincerity in his voice; you don’t think he would waste his breath saying it if he didn’t mean it, and that fact alone makes your heart pound with desire.

There’s a syrupy slowness to the way he moves down your body, lips leaving behind heavy wet kisses as he works down your chest and over your stomach.

And it’s almost like he senses the protest working its way up your throat when you feel his hot breath on your thighs, because he looks up at you and there’s sternness in his gaze. You got your fill last night, and now it’s his turn.

“May I?” He looks up at you from the apex of your thighs with big, round puppy eyes that are impossible to refuse–so you nod eagerly and don’t even try.

If you were eager to have him in your mouth last night, he’s desperate.

There’s no hesitation, no build-up. It’s almost aggressive, the way he buries his face in your heat. He laps like a dog at a bowl, hips canting into the mattress involuntarily as your taste floods his mouth.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he growls into your sopping cunt. “You taste incredible.”

You keen at the praise and card your fingers through his hair, tugging slightly at the damp, spiky strands when his tongue laves heavily over your sensitive clit.

Marcus’s greedy hands grip underneath your thighs and push them as far as you can comfortably spread them. You’re still so sensitive after at least three orgasms last night–you lost count after a point–and it serves to wind your nerves tighter than they’ve ever been wound before.

One hand slides to the junction of your thigh and his thumb comes to take over the pressure on your clit as his tongue plunges between your soaked folds. It’s even more overwhelming like this, and there’s not a thing in the world that you want to do more than let him have his fun. Especially when that hand and his tongue switch spots–his lips seal and suck around your clit while he presses two achingly thick fingers into your waiting entrance.

It actually makes your muscles tighten and your back rise off the bed as he curls his fingers just right to find that spot that makes you fall apart for him.

He can tell you’re getting close–he’s already so intune with the way your muscles twitch, the change of pitch in your moans. You whine and cry for him the tighter he winds the rubberband, and he’s eager to make it snap.

“That’s it, pretty girl,” he says over the overwhelming flutter of his fingers scissoring and curling inside you. “Let me have it.”

You squeeze your eyes shut so tightly as pleasure wracks through your body that you can see constellations. Large hands come to pin your thighs open as his tongue keeps working, lapping and gliding against your cunt with ease as a wave of arousal gushes from your entrance.

You’ve never been so wet in your life, and he’s just getting started.

He trails open-mouthed kisses up your body as you catch your breath–his slick-soaked lips coat your skin with your own arousal as he works his way up to allow you a taste of yourself.

The first wet lick of his tongue into your mouth makes you moan. It’s not the first time you’ve tasted your own slick–you’ve had a moment or two of curiosity–but it’s never been quite as enjoyable as it is on his tongue. It pairs so perfectly with the minty tang of toothpaste left on his breath and makes you hungry for more.

He moves fluidly under your direction as you push him onto his back and roll to straddle his lap all in one graceful movement. It’s perfect like this–he doesn’t have to support his weight so he can run his big meaty hands all over every inch of you, and you can kiss him as deep as you want while you grind down on his aching length.

“Shit, baby,” he pants against your lips. Those aforementioned beefy palms grasp hard at your asscheeks to guide your hips, pulling you into a slow, long grind that bumps the head of his cock against your clit deliciously.

Your pulse thrums with desperation until you’re seeing white–no more teasing, no more preamble. You take his girth in your hand and give him a firm stroke; if you had a little more presence of mind, you might be embarrassed at how wet his dick is simply from grinding against you for a few seconds.

“Go ahead, baby, take it when you’re ready.”

He gasps at the first press of his cockhead against your entrance, head flopping back against the pillows as his hands squeeze your asscheeks with bruising force.

“Shit, you’re tight,” he murmurs, throat working around a thick gulp. “You can take it baby, I know you can. Did so good for me last night.”

You think you would honestly do anything he asks of you so long as he just keeps talking like this.

It takes a moment for you to work your way down his length–he’s so mouth-wateringly thick and the curve of his cock hits the most delicious spot inside you that you didn’t even know existed.

“Atta girl,” he praises breathlessly as your hips settle flush against his. “Just sit there for a minute. So pretty on my dick.”

God, he makes your entire body flush with heat. He turns your blood to molten lava with his words, lighting every inch of skin on fire. You’ve never felt a sensation like this–so overwhelming yet so intoxicating.

You start with slow movements as his hands trace up and down your sides sweetly–it’s more like you’re grinding on him than anything else. His thumbs rub abstract little patterns into your skin as his hands work up to your tits; when he finally takes them in the palms of his hands and squeezes all pretense of soft, sweet morning-after sex flies out the window.

You drop down hard on his cock and it nearly punches the wind out of him.

“Yes!” He growls darkly. His eyes flash with something dangerous–it’s the only warning you get before his hand slaps the meat of your ass and grabs a greedy handful. “Just like that baby, use my fuckin’ dick.”

And maybe, if he was someone else, you wouldn’t be nearly as eager to follow instructions. But with Marcus, you’re nothing if not obedient.

Last night was exploration and discovery–hours into the early morning spent learning each other’s bodies, finding what makes the other squirm and whine and beg. This morning is in perfect juxtaposition to that sweet, soft, probing sex–you know what drives each other crazy now, and you each use it to your advantage. Aggressively.

He surges up to suck a pert nipple into his mouth as you set a hard pace on him, long fingers pressing into your skin hard enough to leave marks. He lands another sharp smack to your ass when your thighs start to shake–a reward for using his cock exactly how he asked.

”M-Marcus—”

”I know, sweetheart,” he purrs through a guttural moan. He cants his hips up to meet your thrusts at just the right moment—he hits something so devastatingly pleasurable that your vision prickles white around the edges. “I know, it’s so much, isn’t it? It’s okay, you can let go. Come for me.”

There’s a condescending note to his voice that only makes you squeeze harder around his cock, and within seconds you’re hurtling uncontrollably into ecstasy.

He fucks you through the telltale fluttering of your cunt even when your hips stop moving; strong hands hold you in place and work you through the ebbing waves of pleasure that wrack through your entire body.

”M’so close, honey,” he grunts with a particularly sharp thrust upward. One hand comes up to cradle your jaw in his hand, forcing your eyes to meet his. “Where do you want me?”

”I-inside,” you gasp. “Come inside me, Marcus.”

He fills you as soon as he has your instruction—hard thrusts punctuated by breathy moans as he pumps you full of his release.

There’s a long, silent moment where Marcus pulls your bare chest tightly against his own and you pant into the crook of his neck while trying desperately to even-out your breathing. His fingertips dance across your skin-feather-light, soothing.

The sun is higher in the sky now and meets your eyes with blinding rays through the balcony shutters when they finally open again.

”That was amazing, honey,” he murmurs into the crown of your head. He’s caught his own breath now, but he doesn’t make any attempt to let you go. “How’re you so perfect?”

”M’not perfect,” you mumble into his shoulder; but even to your own ears, it sounds half-hearted. The truth is, he’s so earnestly honest that you believe him.

He hums his dissent with a kiss pressed to your hairline. ”You are to me.”

And you so desperately want to believe him that you don’t even try to argue.

You bask in this warm, lovely afterglow for a few moments longer before Marcus gently taps your hip. ”Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get cleaned up and I’ll buy you breakfast.”

You pull off of his softened cock with a whine and try not to get worked up all over again at the feeling of his cum leaking down your thighs. ”Th-there’s a free continental breakfast downstairs.”

”Oh, then I’ll definitely pick up the tab,” he jokes with a smirk—all you want to do is kiss his goofy, stupidly handsome face.

He pulls you into the bathroom and starts the water running to fill the tub—he’s never really been a bath guy, but your legs are a little too shaky to endure a shower. He’s so attentive—from running a damp cloth between your legs to helping lower you into the water. He doesn’t complain in the slightest when you catch his hand and ask him to join you; he just shuffles you forward and slides in behind you like it’s a casual act that he performs with every hookup.

It’s intimate. That’s really the only way to describe it. You sit between his spread legs, back to his chest, head rested back against his shoulder while his fingers ghost idle paths over your skin. You don’t talk; you don’t really need to. Somehow, you fit together like souls who have known each other for years. Like all you’ve been missing is each other.

You drift off in his arms as he traces soap over all the curves and ridge of your body, the steady beat of his heart thumping in your ear.

It breaks his heart a little bit to wake you—the fact that you’re so comfortable with him, that you trust him with such vulnerability, makes his head spin a little bit. But the water’s turning cold, and the last thing he wants is for you to come down sick or something.

He rouses you with gentle, feathery kisses scattered over your rosy-scented shoulders and neck.

”Mmm… what time is it?” You grumble, pressing your sleep-addled face further into the crook of his neck.

”Just after noon,” he whispers into your hair after glancing up at the clock on the wall.

He can feel the way your mouth shifts into a pout. “Shit. We missed breakfast.”

The adorable downward tilt of your frown as you lift your dad to look at him makes his heart flutter. “Let’s go out, then. The first farmer’s market of the season is going on downtown. I’m sure we can find something good for brunch.”

”Kinda sounds like you’re asking me on a date,” you hum with a slight smirk dancing at your lips.

”Maybe I am.” His tone is light, his meaning clear—he knows this goes beyond a one-night stand, and there’s no harm done if you’re not wanting to cross this boundary. He’d understand not wanting to get too serious about someone who lives thousands of miles away from your home, of course. He’d never blame you.

You give him your best appraising look, staring deep into those constellation-filled brown eyes. ”You’re not sick of me yet?”

”I have a feeling I couldn’t get sick of you if I tried.” There’s nothing but sincerity in his tone, in his eyes. He genuinely wants to spend time with you, even if there’s nowhere for this to really go.

You hum thoughtfully. “I do love farmer’s markets.”

You’re with Marcus more often than not over the course of the next week.

He takes you sightseeing to some of his favorite spots around Austin, brings you to his favorite restaurants, shows you his favorite movies. But he multitasks—while teaching you about himself, he learns as much as he can about you and picks activities he knows you’ll love, too.

He’s a pragmatist; he knows your time together is short, and he wants to make himself unforgettable. If he never sees you again, he wants you to think about him every once in a while and look back on this time fondly.

You spend your days while Marcus is at work painting or drawing or lingering around the gallery, and you fall asleep in his arms every night. With shades of gray moonlight and candlelight cast over your hotel room, it almost feels like this could go on forever.

He tells you to wear something nice before he picks you up on the last night–he wants to celebrate in style, which starts with reservations at an up-scale restaurant.

He’s so achingly handsome. He’s in a matching gray suit over a white button-up, top two buttons undone and no tie to be seen. His face bears the slightest five o’clock shadow and your eyes gravitate to the curve of his lips–the instant smile that takes over his face when those gorgeous brown eyes of his land on you.

If you never see him again, this is exactly how you want to remember him.

“Wow,” he whispers reverently. “You look amazing.”

It’s not the most impressive dress you own, but he looks at you like you’re wearing something worth millions–like you’re worth millions.

You lean up and kiss him, and everything feels right. His hands rest on your waist and it’s so easy to pretend that you won’t be on the other side of the country twenty-four hours from now.

The restaurant is beautiful. Dimly lit and romantic, tables spaced enough to give you some privacy. He takes your hand on top of the table and holds it the entire meal. The conversation is light and airy–you’re both stubbornly dancing around what really needs to be said.

Dessert is cleared and the wine bottle is empty by the time Marcus finally works up the courage to acknowledge the elephant in the room.

“I don’t want you to go.”

You knew this would be coming, but it doesn’t make it any easier. You avert your gaze, instead focusing on his large hand wrapped around yours and the windshield wiper motion of his thumb tracing back and forth over your palm. No one’s touch has ever sent such electric tingles through your nervous system the way his does.

You don’t know what to say, so you say nothing at all.

“Look, I…” He takes a deep breath and straightens his spine a little bit, hand leaving yours to gently cup your chin. He forces you to look him in the eyes as he breaks your heart. “I think this could really be something, if we gave it a shot.”

You haven’t lied to him yet, and you don’t plan to start now. “I… I think it could, too. If I didn’t have to go back.”

“Don’t go back then.” There’s a firmness to his voice, but it couldn’t be any more obvious that he’s begging if he actually got down on his knees. “Stay here with me. We’ll figure this out. Just… don’t go.”

And here–with his earnest eyes on yours and his gentle, loving touch on your skin–it’s easy to pretend that it’s that simple.

He takes you back to your hotel room and sheds you easily out of your dress. As cliche as it sounds, it’s not just sex this time. Things that it’s too early to say are buried deep within every kiss, every thrust. He hooks your legs over his shoulders and looks deeply into your eyes while he fills you and you’ve never felt so overwhelmingly connected.

The thud of his heartbeat is insistent in your ear as you come down from your high–so calming, so heartbreaking. You lay on his chest while his breathing evens out and soak up these last few moments of bliss. And then, once you’re sure he’s sound asleep, you carefully worm out of his grip. There’s one more thing you have to do before you go back to New York.

Loud, insistent ringing pulls Marcus from the depths of sleep. He tries to ignore it and go back to sleep, but now that his senses are alert, the sound in combination with bright Saturday morning sunlight won’t allow him the luxury. He presses his face deeper into the pillow that he’s somehow wound himself around in his sleep, but that damned ringing won’t stop.

He sits up slowly and tries to rub the sleep from his eyes–and that’s when he notices the empty sheets next to him. Your side of the bed is long cold, and he knows. Before he even sees the note on the dresser and your room key next to it, he knows you’re gone.

He finds his trousers discarded halfway between the bed and the door and pulls his blaring phone out of the pocket.

“The gallery got hit sometime early this morning. They took everything. Every goddamn piece. You need to get here now.”

His body moves on autopilot as he pulls yesterday’s clothes back on, fingers numb to all sensation as they work to button his shirt. This can’t be happening. It can’t be you.

He notices the note on the dresser as he’s threading his belt through the loops of his trousers, and his gut twists with a sickening sense of foreboding.

I really did fall for you, Marcus. But nothing good starts in a getaway car.

He’s not sure if you knew who he was the whole time and this whole thing was calculated, or if you just got lucky. He doesn’t want to believe you’re that cunning and cruel. He wants to believe that this is just a misunderstanding, that you’re out for ice or something and you’ll walk back through the door at any moment.

But you don’t.

The note is enough of a confession for him. He’ll have the power of the FBI on his side to find you–and he will find you. What he’ll do when he does, he’s not sure. He guesses he’ll know when he sees you.

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urapocolypticcrush · 8 months ago

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heyy i was wondering if you could give me some music recommendations?

anything is welcome! thank you <3

HEYY OF COURSE!!! (i will say im not great at recommending stuff and i listen to the same 6 artists on repeat but i’ll try!)

so i’d def recommend conan gray!! i love him to pieces and he just released his third album! i’d recommend listening to kid krow or superache first! found heaven is his most recent album and its really good but it’s very different from his first two albums and the ep so i’d listen to those first!

i also love baby queen! she’s a VERY underrated artist and she put out an album last november !! she sings about quite serious topics (just to warn you) but i love her a lot and a lot of her music has been in heartstopper so yk she’s cool!!

also beyonce! im getting into her music she’s so talented!! my friend recommended me lemonade and it was so good so i’d recommend that! i’d also recommend chappell roan she is SO cool and i’m getting into her music now too she’s brilliant!

lastly i’d recommend listening to beabadoobee she’s so amazing! (particularly the way things go and dance with me) and griff, who’s actually supporting taylor this upcoming weekend in london!! shes so talented, and i’d recommend her ep one foot in front of the other its amazing!!

obvs you dont have to listen to ANY of these recs they’re just some of my personal faves!!!

love you <33

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stars-and-leather · 1 year ago

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since valentines day is approaching, answer these three questions and send this ask to 10 other moots <3

💌What is your dream date night

💌Who is your current celebrity/fictional crush?

💌Best love song, in your opinion

AND ALSO HAPPY GALENTINES!!

AAAA HIII HOW ARE YOU

It’s very cliche but picnics or seaside dates would be so fun, or something where you do things, like maybe an amusement park?

Ooh ok so recently it’s been Ravi Singh, or Conan Gray lol and then of course Aryan Simhadri (I think about him 24/7)

This one’s so hard there are so many amazing love songs but I think my top 3 are probably:

Paper Rings- Taylor Swift

Plant Pots- Pat

September- James Arthur

Thank you so much for this ask it was really fun to do, what about you? Also Happy Valentines Day!!

#stars speaks now #answered asks #happy valentine's day

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1d1195 · 6 months ago

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SAMMMMMMMMM I CANTTTTTTTT !!!!! i read the protection blurb🥹🥹🥹 i’m literally about to cry they’re ADORABLEEEEE whew😮‍💨😮‍💨 i was cheesing sooooo hard the whole time I CANT BELIEVE YOU ACTUALLY WROTE A BLURB YOURE AMAZINGGGG AHHHHH THANK YOU SO MUCH

i saw your post apologizing for the next part of Most👀….yea i think ima stay away for a littleeee bit longer HAHAHAHA i hate lauren🙄 (idk her)

IM ACTUALLY GOING ON A TRIP !! in the first week of august im traveling to see my sister and some other family (only excited to see my sister tho lmao) and that’s gonna be fun hopefully. not quite sure how long i’m staying but whtvr (i take back what i said, i wanna binge-read Most on the plane and then stress out abt the posting from a different timezone)

i have a new song! (it’s actually old ((and a cover)) but who cares) “Dance Me to the End of Love” The Civil Wars has been on repeat omg. i actually have this whole montage in my head that plays when i hear it of a tv couple and one of them is dying and this is playing in the background while the scene goes from their happy flashbacks to the present AHHH HANDJEIE THATS SO SPECIFIC IDK BUT DO YOU GET IT ?

“You Are In Love” BY TAYLOR SWIFT IS SOOOOOOOOOOOOO MACY AND ELLIOT CODED IM SCREAMINGGGGGG !!!! that’s always been one of my all time favorite taylor songs bc it’s just so lovey dovey so ofccc but i just heard it again after reading love & other words and holyyyyyy ugh i almost cried😭😭 i meannnn “one night, he wakes, strange look on his face, pauses then says, you’re my best friend, and you knew what it was, he is in love” AFHKJEAGFOUEHJFL AND THE WHOLE BRIDGE ??? ITS SO THEM anyway, im still completely in love with that story n i think of them a lot (im trying to persuade my sister to read it, she’s being difficult)

IT. HAS. BEEN. STORMING. FOREVER. i kid you not we spent WELL over a week where it was raining and gloomy and gray nonstop BUT IT WAS STILL HOT. its sunny again now though and i am living purely off of iced coffee LMAO

LOVE YOU SO MUCH HOWS IT GOING ??? HOPE YOURE DOING AMAZING MWAH <333

~🎶

Of course! your inspo was such a good idea! I love to make Harry sound dramatic about safety and of course there's no better Harry than the one I wrote in Protection. 💕

That's awesome you're going on a trip and you get to see your sister! I'm sure that will be really happy and exciting. A no return date is so cool. I wish I could have that part of your life for sure 💕 My entire life is scheduled to the minute lol. I think by the time you are on the plane and in a different time zone you won't be stressing too much about Most hehehehe. I think most of the frustrating scenes and parts are all done (but we'll see what I come up with for the remaining parts)

What a beautiful song 😭 my favorite lyric is in the first verse "lift me like an olive branch and be my homeward dove" I TOTALLY see what you're saying about the TV montage. That's how I envision songs and see stories as well. Thank you for telling me about it! I have a couple songs I've also been listening to that are older. Go Solo - Tom Rosenthal, Where's My Love - SYML, and Acoustic - Billy Raffoul (the lyrics for this last one are a bit spicy but it sounds so innocent I didn't notice the lyrics when I first heard it on TV)

It's not a book for everyone! My sister didn't like it because she didn't like that she was engaged. Which I think makes me toxic because I didn't even CARE. I love Macy and Elliot. I think about them 20 times a day. Specifically the part where he calls her honey toward the end and consoles her. I'm a sucker for the comfort trope. But you're right, You Are In Love is about them.

It finally cooled down this past week (it's supposed to heat up again though). I'm doing well. This is the last week of summer school. Can't wait to be done with it. I read a trashy book this weekend and I'm hopeful I'll read another one this week. But I wrote Part 4, 5, and I'm working on 6 of Most so I've been doing literature things but I should be reading more. I need less screen time hahaha. I also watched Maxton Hall and I know it's probably a little young for me, but the enemies to lovers is my weakness.

There is nothing wrong with living off iced coffee 😉 Hope you have a good day! Do you have to pack a lot for an undetermined trip length? I think I would explode trying to pack for that 😭 how do you do it?

LOVE YOU! 💕

xoxo

#🎶#most

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taciturnpoet · 2 years ago

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thank u for the tag @aeronics, even if you accidentally made it a whole new post lol also my first time being tagged in one of these :)

top 5 books: the queen's gambit, dracula, aftg trilogy, perfume: story of a murderer, queen of shadows

top 5 movies: dead poets society, pride & prejudice [2005], inkheart, lord of the rings trilogy, 10 things i hate about you

top 5 tv shows: the sandman, merlin, penny dreadful, supernatural, moon knight

fav movie genre: oh man...fantasy and action/adventure probably but i like and will watch basically everything lol

top fandoms you're in: dead poets society, all for the game, merlin, the sandman

top fandoms you’d like to join: i want to get more into the aftg fandom and hannibal since i’m rewatching it, as well as good omens and house when i watch them lol

top artists you listen to: according to spotify my current top 5 are hozier, conan gray, shaman's harvest, taylor swift, and the oh hellos

top songs currently: baby said — måneskin, youth — daughter, counting stars — simply three, could have been me — the struts, the 1 — taylor swift

a song that describes you perfectly: i feel like it changes from time to time. right now maybe the old witch sleep and the good man grace — the amazing devil

top music genres currently: another according to spotify, pop, pov: indie, post-grunge, alternative metal, and folk-pop apparently

favourite music genre: man idk i like basically everything man my music taste is a mess but currently probably indie or modern rock?

love language you're most comfortable giving: quality time and words of affirmation probably

love language you like receiving: quality time!!

favourite aesthetics: MAN a lot of them interest me…the academias (specifically dark, art, or chaotic), cyperpunk and that dark forest witch one that speaks to me

characters you kin: i haven't thought in depth about this recently, but i know todd anderson [dead poets society], izumi miyamura [horimiya manga/anime], merlin [merlin]

fav colour and why: any dark color, but specifically deep forest green and dark blood red, they both feel so all-consuming and comforting while seeming like they're so much more than what they appear? idk if that makes sense lol

interests i would like to talk about: oh buddy a lot of stuff. i like listening to people talk about things that interest them but especially books/movies/philosophies or theories, and of course, writing! (if you ever want to talk please don’t hesitate to dm me, i’m shy and anxious but always willing to talk lol)

fav animal/s: canines! foxes, wolves, dogs, etc. and like. crows/ravens

favourite season: autumn easily. everything feels simplier in the fall.

favourite weather: the simple answer is thunderstorms, but to be more specific, the weather where you can see the coming thunderstorm on the horizon and the downpouring of rain in the distance that makes everything around you dark and heavy, usually has some fog and makes the trees far away appear almost black as it approaches you. my mom and i call it witch weather and i love it

sixteen personalities type: infp-t

mtg colour quiz results: Planeswalker of The Temur Frontier…apparently?

kinda not serious fears: spiders and heights probably. unfortunately, i’ve also got emetophobia which is a trip sometimes.

random tags: i have no idea who to tag so please feel free to do this if you'd like to!!

thank u for the tag @fizzy-watches-dps :)) this is the first time ive been tagged in one of these sorry about the wack formatting it needs to look good to appease my little monkey pea brain top 5 books: lord of the flies, wuthering heights, cant think of any others rn

top 5 shows/movies: dead poets society, midsommar, little miss sunshine, the batman [2022] [are you seeing the paul dano theme yet], there will be blood, dont hug me im scared

fav movie genre: idk the weird slice of life ones that have no point like little miss sunshine or just psychological horror

top fandoms you're in: dead poets society, south park ig, some of the og lets play youtubers (markiplier, jse, etc.), life is strange 1+2, metal family

top fandoms you’d like to join: scp foundation stuff, the welcome home arg

top artists you listen to: abba, ghost, gorillaz, la dispute, crywank, wilbur soot's old music, msi [i dont support their actions at all]

top songs currently: to be alone with you - sufjan stevens, voulez-vous - abba, tous les mêmes - stromae

a song that describes you perfectly: iris - goo goo dolls

top music genres currently: [according to spotify stats] rock, pop, permanent wave, indie, modern rock

favourite music genre: oh god idk uhhhh id just say rock if i had to pick

love language you're most comfortable giving: acts of service

love language you like receiving: physical touch, quality time

favourite aesthetics: liminalcore?? grunge, gross boyish boy things idk how else to word that [maybe transmasc-core]

characters you kin: stephen meeks [dead poets society], kinda charlie dalton [dead poets society], ches [metal family], richard cameron [dead poets society, listen i have my reasons], red guy [dhmis], nathan prescott [lis], max caulfield [lis], dwayne hoover [little miss sunshine], todd anderson [dead poets society], scott tenorman [south park, idc he listens to radiohead too], michael/tall goth [south park]

fav colour and why: grey, nice n neutral and chill or red bc it looks good on everything

interests i would like to talk about: just random obscure facts i have collected [..whales sometimes explode when they die], also the dark web, also morbid history things, also dead poets society and how we were robbed of the deleted scenes, also the 4th dimension, also philosophy and politics

fav animal/s: raccoons, cats, basking sharks

favourite season: summer or winter i can never decide

favourite weather: sunny with a breeze or violent thunder and lightning

sixteen personalities type: intp-t

mtg colour quiz results: planeswalker of the jeskai way, a combination of blue, red, and white apparently

kinda not serious fears: baby birds opening their mouths to be fed [its fucking horrific]

random tags [sry if u have already been tagged!]: @elistudies @springlikesmile @taciturnpoet @pinkobsessedfreak @dpsthinker and anyone else who wants to

#picking only 5 for the first few was way harder than necessary

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nuatthebeach · 2 years ago

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you knew that i'm a mastermind, and now you're mine

comment here on AO3.

mastermind may be an unlikely choice from Taylor Swift's Midnights, but i hope this short fic explains why it's the right one. more on that here.

gifted to @corneliaavenue for ranting with me about this damn album and finding new ways to apply its songs to hinny every day.

At first glance, the press can feel quite irritating.

Not in the she's-Harry-bloody-Potter's-wife sort of way - though there is plenty of that kind too, don't get her wrong - but in the you-are-famous-so-you-must-be-asked-all-sorts-of-intrusive-questions kind of way.

Over the years, she's come up with methods to circumvent those, and she finds herself fairly satisfied with the results.

Ginny flicks her eyes to her watch and claps her palms together. "Right, you lot. You know the rules: one hour, free for all," she raises her eyebrows in question, "Except for?"

"Respect boundaries, no use of passive aggressive questions, don't bring up Mr. Potter, limit discussions to Quidditch but deviations are allowed if not intrusively personal," the small press group chants obediently before one adult with rough skin tacks on, "And absolutely zero tolerance for any - and I quote from you directly - '1950s shite that implies anything about being the Chosen One's baby factory.' We should know better, and we should be better."

She grins, eyes brightening. "Correct, Peter! You learn quick! How are the kids, by the way? Sarah finally crawling?"

"Yes, Mrs. Potter, but we've got a new problem, unfortunately. Changing her nappy has become a bit difficult."

Ginny can tell. The man's hairline is already beginning to recede at the tender age of thirty eight, poor thing. She's not too much of a cow to point that out, of course.

"Ah, well, changing a nappy is a two person job," she states instead, "Maybe get Meghan to hold her arms down?"

"That won't stop her kicking, I suppose. But it is a start."

"And you, Sully?" she turns her attention to the lanky man standing in the back right, the words 'Highway to Hell' spilled colorfully on his shirt, ever the lover of Muggle music that he is. "Did you try that Indian restaurant I told you about last meeting? Remember we talked about expanding your palate to something a bit more…tasteful?"

He smiles a gap-filled smile, his remaining enamel a perfect match to the withering gray of his hair. At least one can't sue The Daily Prophet for ageism, she thinks off-handedly.

"Yes, I did. The curries were to die for. I've got a recommendation for you too, if you'd like."

Remembering his past insistence that she should give a taste for haggis, a quite fascinating Scottish delicacy of a sheep's heart, liver, and lungs mixed intricately with oatmeal and onions, Ginny fights to keep the smile on her face.

"Er, yeah, Sully, let's circle back to that, for sure."

One woman in the front raises her brightly manicured hand, practically bouncing in her eagerness to ask her first question. Ginny obliges, noting that she's among the newer, younger faces. "Hi, Gi - er, Mrs. Potter…I'm Jasmine! I've been cheering for you since your starting position with the Harpies! As someone who has also grown up in a testosterone-fueled house, I can tell you that seeing you earn a place in every league, every tournament you've been in has just - I am honor - I mean, you're just so amazing, and I - fuck, okay, I'll wrap this up."

Ginny laughs, startled but pleasantly so. She mouths a quick 'thank you,' touched beyond words.

Jasmine takes a deep breath and struggles to morph her expression to the likes of the other serious faces around her, self-consciously tucking a piece of chestnut hair behind her ear. Ginny wishes she wouldn't. Her energy is refreshing. She promises to tell her this one day.

"Since your projected wins have been accurate thus far, my question is, what do the stats say about the likelihood of the upcoming game resulting in the Chudley Cannons ranking above the Ballycastle Bats for the first time in seven years? They've certainly pulled their weight this season."

"Well, if you asked my brother, he'd say 100%, but since I'm obligated to tell the objective truth…" They all laugh appreciatively, and Jasmine's smile returns to the avid nature it once was. "On a more informative note, though, I'd say the realistic chances are…"

And this goes on for a while, the push and pull of conversation and banter, like gentle waves yielding to an easy tide, and this, this is the energy Ginny wishes she had been surrounded with throughout her professional life so far. She had never once blamed this particular lack on Harry, of course, for only a dimwit would believe he had somehow orchestrated this whole thing.

And if he still believes this sometimes, he's her dimwit, so he doesn't really count.

And it's not like she cares about what other people think.

Though it is another thing entirely to say it can't be a pain in the arse sometimes. A nail in an already infected foot.

But she refuses to let that bring her down.

It's her life, and she weaves the web of her own destiny. After all, she's spent enough time letting people use shears to tear them down.

"Mrs. Potter, I don't believe you ever addressed your oldest rumor back in your Hogwarts days?"

Ah, she spoke too soon. The Shear Personified.

"It's been overheard from several of your old classmates that Mr. Potter has identified you in his Amortentia during potions class." Oh, Jeffree, don't do it. You were quiet for so long. As you should have remained. "I mean, has there ever been an instance where you slipped in a love potion, let's say, in his pumpkin juice during breakfast? At least once?" I could have introduced you to Aunt Muriel, and you could have been miserable gossips together. "It's just a bit hard to believe - "

She doesn't even have to open her mouth because all of a sudden, the small crowd starts to chatter angrily, glaring at the admittedly social-cues-lacking middle-aged man.

"Boo," gap-toothed Sully chants, throwing his unlit cigarette butt in an aimless direction.

"Poor form, mate," Peter's head shaking causes a child's toy to go off in his nappy bag. "You should know the rules by now."

"Get. Out." This high-pitched but firm squeak is from Jasmine herself, and it's honestly more effective than any of the group's efforts thus far.

Ginny looks around at the mayhem, touched that her little fan circle is responding so strongly on her behalf.

It means the world, truly, considering that she'd gotten comfortable with the accusations and hate for so long, she forgot it had ever bothered her.

The turn of her lips, though slight, is full of awe, taking in the sight around her.

When the din finally quiets enough, she catches the end of Jeffree's defensive words: "All I am saying is that they were adolescents when they first got together, and reports say - "

"Who gives a damn what reports say?!"

"Er, thank you, Jasmine. Reports say that he was soon on the run for months, and - and - " he falters when he sees Ginny's cutthroat eyes, clearing his throat, "even at the last game, there are images of Mr. Potter staring in a 'daze that rivals a sacrificial victim ensnared by an enchantress,' to quote your own colleague Rita Skeeter - "

"Well, I'm glad Rita finds me enchanting," Ginny cuts in dryly, "But what are these images that you keep babbling about? At least have the gall to put your money where your mouth is before throwing accusations in the middle of a private press meeting."

With irritatingly un-shaky hands, Jeffree pulls out the "Exclusive Celebrity Papers," a Rita Skeeter new edition - as if she's written anything else in the past - and jabs at the pictures with one stubby finger.

She narrows her eyes, observing grainy-image-Harry gaping at grainy-image-Ginny, who had been commentating that day for the recent Appleby Arrows and Tutshill Tornados match, his gaze utterly distracted and…unfocused.

That is peculiar, Ginny wonders. Was it possible that he was stupefied earlier that day at work? No, the spell doesn't usually last that long, and he would have told her if he was, and besides, she's seen that look before she just can't place it -

And then, Ginny sees where exactly he's ogling at, and everything immediately clicks together.

"I know love potions are supposed to bring about feelings of lust, but I hate to break it to you, those trousers are known to do the same."

Her crowd laughs appreciatively, and Jasmine lets out a hearty whoop.

At this point, Jeffree's cheeks are a deep maroon.

"That - that's not very appropriate."

Ginny rolls her eyes. "Neither are your questions. I have a fit arse. My husband knows this. The sun rises in the east. Celery is a shite vegetable. Life goes on."

"Oh, please."

Great, here comes Ginny's least favorite part of these press meetings. She had been foolish to think it was put in the past, but alas.

When a man feels hurt that their ego isn't stroked, they spend their time feeling the need to let everyone know, thinking they'll care.

Like a child crying for attention. Only with these types of men, it's not a phase.

"Let's not pretend that everyone here is not wondering the same thing," the prat starts, "What, you think they care what restaurant taste you have? Your daycare advice? We all came here for one thing. A story."

This sends the room in a heated flurry again, but Ginny cuts it short, her biting remark a crisp breeze on a two-in-the-morning walk home.

"I don't need a love potion for my own husband to want me. And I don't care what you think your opinion is."

She skips, of course, the rant thrumming deep within her veins about how she, of all people, would know on a personal level what it's like to lose autonomy and would be the last to take it away from someone else. Such an obvious argument would only go over this dense sack's head.

Besides, she doesn't owe anyone any explanation.

Instead, she settles the building friction in the room with a cool: "But if you dare insult anyone in this room again, you'll find that the next story you cover is the one outside the toilets of the Ministry. And spoiler alert, entries into the departments are not all they use them for."

The rest of the press - no, her friends - cheers in delighted unison, Jasmine going so far as to hold the door for Jeffree's exit.

Sully swipes Rita's paper from his hand and rips it in two.

xxx

Harry laughs, listening attentively to Ginny's recount of the entire debacle, peppering remarks of "it is a great arse" and "if I see Jeffree covering the toilet entries I'll be sure to leave the seat up" and "ah, classic Sully. Maybe we should try the haggis he's always talking about," to which Ginny replies "or maybe we shouldn't" and grins as he affirms "yeah, maybe we shouldn't."

When their low-lit living room falls to a hush, Harry leans into Ginny's side, refilling her wine without her asking, and she ponders at how being with him just fits.

Like dominoes cascading in a line.

She puts her glass down and snuggles under his chin, preferring his clean scent as her method of intoxication instead.

"It's amazing," he breaks the companionable silence after a while, rubbing her back.

She lifts her head curiously.

"Only you could turn around a whole group of paparazzi and make them not only respect your boundaries but adore you. As a person. You just win over people so easily."

Ginny laughs and playfully nudges her elbow into his side, pressing her forehead to his. She knows he's really saying You win me over too, you know. Every day.

And all the rich colors of the grass around the world can't capture the natural comfort that his sage eyes make her feel.

She just has one final, teasing question to ask him.

"I mean, are you really surprised?"

His smirk is wide.

"Not in the least."

#hinny ficlet #harry x ginny ficlet #hinny fluff #ginny deals with press and it's hot

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bellasprettywords · 3 years ago

Note

Can you write an Ivy by Taylor Swift inspired oneshot where the reader is in a relationship with someone esle, but is in love with Draco?

a/n: I love Miss @taylorswift with my whole life, so this request was pretty amazing, thanks anon!!

PS: omg this is my first request, so I’m really excited and I hope you like it 😊

PS 2: This is way too long, I’m sorry about that

y/n – your name

y/h – your house

(Gender neutral pronouns)

Summary: You are in your sixth year at Hogwarts and after getting to know Draco Malfoy, you start questioning your relationship with Cedric Diggory

Warnings: mentions of cheating, forbidden love (?), and fluff

Word count: 1,536

Masterlist

Reblogs and comments are always appreciated!

It was logical, Cedric Diggory and you were the perfect couple at Hogwarts. You met in your second year at school and from there a great friendship bloomed and eventually it turned into love, yet now after four years you were doubting your relationship with Hufflepuff’s Golden Boy.

It all started two months ago, after you and Draco Malfoy got paired up for Astrology class. The assignment was not complicated: during the semester you had to observe the phases of the moon and report the impact they had in magic. It all seemed easy enough until you started getting a tingly feeling every time, you’d meet up with the silver haired boy to observe the moon and report your findings on the assignment.

“Well, you seem distracted” Hermione cut your line of though and you remembered you were supposed to be studying Divination in the library

“Oh, I’m sorry, I was just thinking how unbearable this class is, I just can’t seem to concentrate in these tasks” you said rubbing your eyes and straightening in your chair

“It’s okay, I know I’m not the best teacher either” she said with a kind smile “why don’t you ask Cedric for help? I’m sure he’d be excited to study this with you”

You smiled politely and tried to brush off that question. The truth is, you’ve been avoiding Cedric as much as you can since the emotional rollercoaster with Draco started. The worst part, or at least what you thought, is that this whole dilemma is one-sided, as of course, the prince of Slytherin would never fall for someone in a relationship.

“I have to go right now, but i’ll read the chapter again and i’ll let you know tomorrow morning how it goes” you said picking your stuff up from the library table

“Sure thing, i’ll also tell Cedric to open up his agenda, maybe he can join us next time we study” Hermione added shoving her books into her bag

“Thanks for being this patient and for all your help” you said smiling before walking towards the exit of the library.

You walked to the astronomy tower, yeah, you were 40 minutes earlier to your study nondate with Draco, but the though of spending another minute listening to Hermione explaining divination just was too much to handle in your emotional state. You opened the door and were surprised to see Draco already there, going through his notes and looking beautifully concentrated.

“If you are going to stare at me, make sure not to drool” Draco said sarcastically looking up from his work

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t wanna bother you, you looked so… peaceful” you added wishing he couldn’t see your cheeks blushing

“You do not bother me, in fact, you are one of the few people I actually like, darling” he said grinning. With the light so dim and the stars shining over him, his gray eyes were sparking, making the butterflies in your stomach twirl and turn like crazy

“What are you working on?” You said gazing at his notes and sitting next to him

“Just going over Divination, is actually one of my favorite classes, so I like to study ahead” he added handing you some of his perfectly handwritten notes

“Woow, these are actually pretty amazing” you said going through them “I wished understood at least half of what you have in here” you said handing the notes back

“You know darling, if you are having any trouble, I could tutor you” Draco said smiling.

Oh Merlin, not again, every time he called you darling your heart melted, and your mind went all fuzzy

“I… No, don’t worry, it would be a mess as apparently I can’t seem to learn anything from that class, and I really do not want to impose” you replied.

“Come on darling, i’ll make sure by at the end of the semester you are the best in your class” he said taking your hand “Look y/n, you are a really powerful witch, and if you are struggling, i’ll help you as much as you can” he added now caressing your hand.

You were so close to each other you could smell his minty breath, and his strong cologne was giving you a rush. His touch made your hand feel tingly and thanks Merlin you were sitting because you were sure your legs would be trembling right now. He kept caressing your hand and you moved closer by the second.

“May I?” Draco whispered millimeters from your lips and slipping his hand to your cheek. You nodded and you could feel his soft lips kissing yours. Oh, sweet Merlin, you did not realize how much you needed this. You reached the back of his neck with lips still intertwined and you pulled back when you felt you needed air. His grey eyes met yours and you gave him a little smile, he smiled back.

“i’ve been wanting to do that for a while now” Draco broke the silence

“I… I… I have to go” you said with a million things spinning in your head, taking your books, and leaving the astronomy tower almost running.

What on Merlin’s name have you done? You kissed Draco Malfoy, not only that, you kissed Draco Malfoy while you were dating Cedric Diggory. Yes, you had some kind of unresolved feelings for Draco that were giving you doubts about your relationship, but that was not an excuse for cheating on your long-term boyfriend. For the next week you avoided Draco, Astrology class, and the astronomy tower in fear of facing Draco. You also decided to spend more time with Cedric and your friends, but honestly, the guilt was eating you alive. You caught Draco starring at you during meals in the Great Hall and he tried to talk to you more than once in the hallways, but you really did not know what to do. Every time you went to bed, you relieved the kiss, you even caught yourself longing for more, you wanted Draco’s touch, you almost felt like you needed Draco, his sent, his touch, his kisses, it felt addicting. You were on fire and the only water to stop it had silver hair and was last-named Malfoy.

You were sitting on the grass under a tree reading about care of magical creatures, lately, the gardens were your scape from the snowball of mixed feelings and confusion your life had become. Suddenly, you heard a voice.

“Please do not run away” Draco said standing in front of you

“Hi” you said without looking at him

“What has gotten into you? Are you for real going to ignore me forever?” He said now sitting in the grass next to you. You remained silent waiting for the right words to come into your mind “We still have a project together, you know?” He said with exasperation in his voice. For the first time you looked at him and his gorgeous gray eyes had a tint of hurt

“I’m sorry” you whispered, feeling ashamed. You were ashamed you kissed him and ran, and you felt guilty for lying to your boyfriend and your friends, for pushing him away and of course, for hurting him.

“I’m sorry too” he said fixing his gaze into the grass “I have to tell you something, but truth to be told, i’ve been trying to put it off, but I can’t contain it anymore” he said with a worried tone

“Is everything alright?” You asked concerned, sure, you were feeling a lot of things, but you really wanted Draco to be okay, no matter the mess your heart was at the moment

“I’m in love with you” he said and threw his hands to his head “I know this is terrible timing, especially since you are with Diggory, but I had to let you know that even if you love him, my heart is yours only, it has been since we started working in the stupid Astrology project together” he said and chuckled nervously

“I think I’m in love with you too” you said barely audible “I’m just so confused, I do not want to hurt Cedric, but I feel like I already did, I just don’t know how to deal with all of this and what am I gonna tell him? I love him, just not the kind of love a girlfriend should have for her boyfriend” you added barely breathing

“It is a relief knowing at least we are in the same chapter” Draco said taking your hand “I’m sure we can figure it all out together, i’ll even talk to Diggory” he said with a confident tone

“It’s not gonna work, he’s gonna be so mad, he’ll hate me, and you, he’ll hate us” you said freaking out

“I don’t doubt he’ll hate me, he’ll probably even punch me, but it’s better to come clean now than to pretend” he said starring into your eyes and moving a little closer to your lips “Tell me to stop if you want me to stop” he whispered, but you didn’t stop him, on the contrary you pulled him closer to your lips and you melted in a passionate kiss.

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wearebothdrunk · 4 years ago

Text

Cornelia Street

Pairing: Tom Holland x fem!reader

plot: yn is obcessed with Taylor Swift so Tom learns how to play her favorite song on the guitar and gives yn the best day of her life.

warnings: smut; fluff; and references to Taylor Swift (?)

word counting: 1185

a/n: I am completly obcessed with Taylor so this idea is on my scrap book for so so long. Also “lover” is my favorite album. hope you like it.

/ gif not mine

you and Tom had been together for about one year and he knew how obsessed you were with Taylor Swift.

" what are you doing?"

" listening to Taylor Swift" you would say dancing and screaming to her songs.

Tom was learning how to play the guitar, so you asked him to learn one of your all-time favorite songs " Cornelia street" by Taylor Swift.

"Come on babe, i will help you"

You both sat on the bed, with only a nightlight on and with Tessa lying on your feet, trying to learn the chords of the song. You were also learning with Tom to play guitar, so it was a pretty funny process.

"You have to put that finger on this string"

"I´M TRYING"

After a month of practicing, you finally managed to learn the whole song and could practice better. You took out your cell phone to check the lyrics, in case you made a mix-up in the verse, and he started to follow along.

We were in the backseat

Drunk on something stronger than the drinks in the bar

Tom looked at you amazed at your emotion as you sang the lyrics and you looked at him proud and grateful that he was so patient with you.

*When the song was over

"I loved it. thank u, babe, you are so talented" you said kissing him on the lips.

he dropped the guitar to his side and pulled you in for another kiss. you wrapped both legs around him as he stroked your hair and kissed you.

Tom looked at you with such passion in his eyes.

"I have something for you" he said in the middle of the kiss.

You placed your fingers intertwined at the back of your neck. " what?"

Tom stretched one of his hands towards the bedside table placing the other on your back to make sure you didn't fall. you watched his movements opening the drawer and then he pulled out an envelope. You were confused and he was suspicious.

"I hope you like it" Tom said nervously. "I'm sure I'll love it, you're the one giving it to me."

You opened the envelope and took out a letter that had only TS written inside. When you started to read the content of the letter your eyes started to shine and Tom's smile grew.

"NO! no way" you screamed. "Yes" he told you.

"No! Tom, do you understand how happy I am right now? You actually bought tickets to a Taylor Swift concert! Tom, I love you sm" you smiled and pursed your lips on his.

"Yeah, I also talked to her about us being in the section with her friends so people don´t know we're there too. "

" i love you!"

" love u too honey"

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

You and Tom then went to the long-awaited concert. She sang your favorite songs (which were all of them).

You were wearing a low-cut black t-shirt with simple jeans and Tom was also wearing black jeans, a white t-shirt and a gray sports jacket. You were dumb enough to forget to bring a jacket or a hoodie, so you started to get cold. You didn't want to say anything to Tom because you thought the boy giving the girl the jacket thing was something that made you feel uncomfortable.

Taylor sat down with her guitar and started singing your favorite song "cornelia street".

imagine that Taylor´s concert in Paris

Tom looked at you to see your reaction. He saw you put both hands on your arms.

" are you cold?" he asked

" no."

" yes you are, here take my jacket." he said taking off his jacket. "no, no. you're going to get cold" you said putting his jacket back on. " i can hug you that way we can both be warm" You put your arms under his jacket and around him. You put your head on his chest and he kissed your head.

you could hear his voice and he could hear yours following the music.

I hope I never lose you, hope it never ends

I'd never walk Cornelia Street again

You were like that the whole concert. All you could think was that if it ever ended you would never be able to listen to this song again without thinking about the boy who had his arms wrapped around you.

* when you left the concert*

You got in the car and as soon as you closed the doors you kissed him hard. "this was the best day ever babe, thank u

"Did you like it?

"Of course i did, but i wouldn't like it so much if i wasn't with you.”

he giggled. " it's true, love" you said while chuckling too

he leaned in to kiss you and whispered in your ear " i know darling, i love you so much, and i just want to see you happy" your smile grew as his words flowed from his mouth.

"Can we go home?" you asked against his lips. "Are you in a rush?" he grinned

"just drive" you said

You had arrived home.

He opened the door and you pushed him into the house and closed the door by shoving with your foot.

You started kissing his neck and his lips.

"i want you, like, now" you said gasping.

he took you by the waist and led you to the bedroom. he laid you on the bed and admired you for a few seconds.

" you're so beautiful darling" You pulled him by his shirt so that he could touch your lying body. he ran his hands all over your skin and you started to take off his shirt. he smiled at you. Soon you were also shirtless and Tom was getting ready to take off your pants.

Moments later you could feel his warm naked body on top of yours. "Do you want me?" he whispered

"yes, please" you answered in a raspy voice.

You let out a moan in his ear as you felt his cock inside you.

fuck

he began to move up and down in a normal rhythm.

"You are always so tight for me."

All you could let out of your mouth were moans

" shit i'm gonna come" he said speeding up the pace making you moan even louder.

" Tom!" you screamed

it didn´t take long for you to feel his cum inside you.

he didn't want you to not cum, so he continued inside you for a little while longer, making slow movements.

" i don´t think i can take it any longer babe" he said

you weren´t totally satisfied yet. so you got on top of him and started to finish what he had started.

he put both hands on your waist while you moved back and forth around his cock. It didn't take long before you came too

shit

You lay down on Tom's side and he did the same. You snuggled up to him.

" thank you for today. it was amazing" you thanked him

"are you talking about the sex or the concert?"

"both"

"I rent a place on Cornelia Street" I say casually in the car

if you want to repost my story in wattpad send me a dm first

#marvel imagines #marvel fluff #marvel #tom holland imagines #tom holland fluff #tom holland x reader #tom holland #tom holland smut #tom holland imagine #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker #peter parker imagines #peter parker x reader

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suneatersupportsquad · 4 years ago

Text

red handed; colby brock

request: im not sure if you do requests or even any imagines for colby brock anymore but i was wondering if you cold make a exception, so basically the plot is that the reader met colby through kat and since then they hit it off, now their in a secretive relationship the only person who knows is kat but she only knows the reader has a crush on colby. one day everyones hanging out in the same room room and colby is sexting the reader, sams curious to whos hes texting and they find out their dating.

dedication: @whydontweanons

genre: fluff, subtle smut?

pairing: colby brock x gn!reader

characters: colby brock, sam golbach, katrina stuart, corey scherer, jake webber, kevin langue, brennen taylor, devyn lundy, tara yummy

word count: 1.8k

warnings: alcohol, what would probably be underage drinking, NSFW (barely), sexting (duh), mentions of COVID-19, quarantine

a/n: of course i’ll still write for sam and colby!! it’s just that, since i’m not as active of a follower of them as i used to be, my goal is to write for fandoms that i’m more invested in at the moment. but, honestly, i don’t think i could ever really stop writing for them. i love those boys so much. also this plot made me laugh so hard when i saw it in the best way possible. getting this request honestly made my day, so thank you for that!! anyways, i’m a little rusty, but here we go.

important links: masterlist

find more fics at my new blog @trapboysbunny

You and Colby had known each other for a long time - pretty much since he’d moved to LA with Sam - and you had been involved romantically just as long. You had met him and Sam through Kat on a boring Saturday night when all their friends flaked on coming to a little kickback they were hosting. Trying to be a good friend and cheer the boys up, Katrina had invited you to hopefully kickstart some emotional momentum. Your eyes met Colby’s for the first time and you clicked. Something in your gut had told you that the two of you would end up being close, and it was right. You had hit it off immediately, not taking very long to start laughing at one another’s corny jokes and telling stories over Smirnoff Ice while some random late night show played in the background. From that night on, it was history.

Since then, you two had been practically attached at the hip. If you weren’t sitting on the same room or facetiming, you were definitely texting one another. It became a running joke in your friend group that you two had evolved into a pair of siamese twins, or that being without you gave Colby separation anxiety. The two of you found it even more amusing when you actually began dating, not long after that fateful first night. It amazed the both of you that you were able to hide your relationship so well. No one had a clue. The two of you laughed about it quite often, actually, over late night phone calls and tipsy afternoons spent only with each other. No one knew, and nobody needed to know.

Colby, due to the internet and his fanbase being the way it is, preferred to keep his personal (and especially romantic) relationships more on the private side. His intent wasn’t necessarily to hide his feelings and relationship with you from his friends, but that particular topic of conversation never really came up in your friend group. Everyone had just kind of figured that everyone single would simply date someone when they were ready and tell everybody about it when they felt the time was appropriate. It wasn’t that Colby didn’t want to tell them, he just didn’t see the point in going out of his way to tell all of his friends hey after God knows how long I finally have a partner. He just didn’t want to make a big deal out of your relationship. Knowing his friends, they would definitely make it into some type of big thing, not to mention that Jake would dub the occasion as “cause for celebration” (which was really just an excuse to drink more). So Colby preferred to keep things on the quieter side for you two; neither of you wanted to make your relationship into an object for speculation.

Kat was the only person out of all of your friends to have any knowledge of your feelings for Colby. And thank God for her; if you didn’t have her to gush about Colby to, you probably would have either exploded or died. Or both. And she was there for every single second of it. She loved hearing about your movie nights, your urban exploring adventures, the sweet yet mundane things he would do to make you happy, literally anything. She ate that shit up like a man starved, and you did the same for her and Sam (regardless of the fact that their relationship was public already). You hadn’t told her explicitly about the nature of your relationship with Colby, really just gushed about your ever-growing love for the boy. Unbeknownst to you, she firmly believed that you only had feelings for Colby, clueless to the fact that the two of you had actually been dating for quite a while now. With her “go get ‘em, tiger” comments, along with similar remarks, you assumed that she had some sort of idea about your relationship with Cole, hence why you had never explicitly told her about your secret boyfriend. Kat, being the good friend that she was, never spilled your “secret” feelings to anyone else. Not even her boyfriend.

Eventually, quarantine started up amidst the international COVID-19 pandemic and you had begun practically living with the trap boys. A day without you in the house was enough to prompt concern for the boys, minus Colby who always knew the real reason why you weren’t coming over. This soon became the new normal, you taking a “day off” every few weeks to get tested just in case. At this point, it was almost comical that no one had figured out you two were dating yet.

One particular weekend afternoon, everyone in your friend group was hanging out at the house. You and Colby were sitting on opposite sides of the room, you next to Kat and Colby seated beside Sam. It was particularly warm today seeing as this Saturday landed smack in the middle of the infamous August heat wave, so you had thrown on a tank top and some shorts, nothing to flashy. Colby had dressed similarly, wearing only a muscle tee and a pair of trunks.

You were sat beside Kat, the both of you trying to listen to the story Devyn was telling. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t ignore the way your boyfriend was staring at you from across the room. You looked away from Dev for just a second to shoot him a glare when you realize exactly why he’s looking at you. The speed at which the blood rushes to your face is dizzying, and you drop your head to stare at your lap. Motherfucker- You sigh as you pull your phone out of your pocket. “Quit it with the blowjob eyes asshole,” you type before pressing the blue send button.

You feel his gaze break as his phone vibrates. Trying to ignore him, you refuse to meet his gaze again, putting all of your effort into focusing on Devyn’s story. Seconds later your phone vibrates in your pocket. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” the screen reads, and you shake your head.

“Uh huh sure ok.” You pressed send again.

Another few seconds passed and your phone vibrated again. “That shirt looks really good on you.”

You blushed as you read the message, flustered by the comment. Brows knitting together in confusion, you looked up to find him staring back at you with a dopey grin. You hunched over your phone and sent a message back. “You really think so?”

“Yeah, of course,” Colby replied, a gray typing bubble sitting under the message. “But you know how it would look cuter?”

You cocked your head to the side and typed out your response. “How?”

“On my bedroom floor.” You almost snorted at that, clamping a hand over your mouth to prevent any noise from escaping. Typical. Thankfully no one had been paying enough attention to you to notice that you were distracted.

Colby, on the other hand, wasn’t so lucky. “Give me this, dude,” Sam said, snatching the phone out of Colby’s hand and effectively bringing the conversation on their side of the room to a halt. “You haven’t been listening for like the past 20 minutes, dude. Now let’s see what’s got you so distracted.”

“You don’t need to look at that, Sam, it’s not that important-” The tall brunette sounded slightly panicky as he reached and grappled with Sam for his phone. Sam played around for a little bit before finally reading the screen, eyes widening in amusement.

Upon finishing his reading, Sam lowered the phone and Colby relaxed, already knowing that he was caught. “So who’s ‘angelcakes,’ huh Colbert?” Sam prodded teasingly.

Colby blushed ever so slightly, rubbing the back of his neck. “They’re just a friend-”

“Which friend, huh?” Sam continued his teasing, growing louder and louder with every response until all eyes were on the two boys.

Colby shrugged, trying to be nonchalant but looking more stressed than ever in actuality. “Just a friend.”

“What do you say we call this friend, huh boys?” Sam suggested.

Kevin nodded, agreeing. “I think we definitely should.” Brennen also nodded when Sam looked to him for approval, essentially finalizing the decision.

“Okay then, let’s do this thing!” Sam yelled, earning cheers from all the other curious folks in the room. The blonde boy pressed call and Colby simply held his face in his hands.

You jumped when your phone rang, honestly having forgotten that oh shit, I’m angelcakes. Everyone turned to look at you curiously, Colby even peeking through his fingers. You didn’t even pick up the device, already knowing whose name would be lighting up the screen. “You gonna pick that up or something?” Corey asked awkwardly.

You shook your head, leaving your phone face down in its spot beside your thigh. “No, it’s probably not important anyways.”

A beat of heavy silence passed before Tara spoke. “Gee, they sure aren’t giving up. Maybe you should answer it.”

“Nah, I’m sure it’s just-”

“Yeah, you should answer the phone, Y/N,” Jake agreed, the pieces seeming to click in his head.

You sighed, burning bright red to the tips of your ears. “Okay okay, fine.” You stood and clicked the answer button. “Hello?”

And there it was, your voice echoing from Colby’s phone. The room erupted in cheers of disbelief, the boys pouncing on Colby and the girls slapping you in playful excitement. “I knew there was something going on between you two!! There’s no way there couldn’t have been -- I can’t believe you didn’t tell me!” Kat squealed, smushing you in a hug.

The rest of the girls echoed the sentiment, a chorus of ‘same’s and ‘I can’t believe you’s. It took a while for everyone to calm down but, once everyone settled, you and Cole managed to get some alone time. The two of you escaped out back, the less than mediocre breeze cooling the sweat that slicked your skin. You held each other, almost as though you were about to start slow dancing. “Damn, caught red handed, huh?”

You laughed breathily, leaning your forehead against his shoulder. “It was only a matter of time, ya know?”

“I know,” he agreed, cheek pressing against your hair. “I’m glad we don’t have to be weird around them anymore.”

“Me too,” you hummed.

Colby pulled away a little bit, just enough for him to look you in the eyes, your arms still around his neck. “Hey.”

You giggled, confused. “Hey.”

“I love you.”

You smiled your confirmation, eyes twinkling under the cheap backyard lights. “I love you.”

#colby brock #colby brock fanfiction #colby brock one shot #colby brock fanfic #colby brock imagine #fanfiction #the trap house #bug.oneshots

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alexeithegoat · 3 years ago

Note

For the character bingo, I'm not gonna ask about Kanan cos I already know your opinion on him, but what about the rest of the Ghost crew?

Thank you for the ask, my friend! 🌻☀️

And you are so right, I am not normal about Kanan.

I love the Ghost Crew, they are honestly the best. Here’s my thoughts under the cut.

Let’s start off in order with General Hera Syndulla herself!

I love this woman so much, she is definitely my second fav and one of my favourite SW characters of all time. She’s incredible, brave and cares so much. I’d love to have a mother or spouse like Hera, honestly. Not to mention that she is so strong for being a single parent as I only ever had one parent in my life. She is one of my biggest inspirations.

Next is Chopper, our loveable murder-bot menace.

He is like if a Chihuahua was bigger and absent from morals. He will kill you and he will complain about the mess afterwards. I love him more than words can say.

Time for the icon that is Garazeb Orrelios.

First actual Lasat shown on screen and he is absolutely incredible. He gives off so much cool-uncle-living-in-your-parents-basement vibes and I like him for that. I do wish that he got a little more character exploration like Sabine did but still, he is marvellous and I love him sm. also Zeb and Sabine is the best dynamic, change my mind.

Next on the list is, speaking of, Sabine Wren herself.

Sabine slowly became one of my favourites over the course of SWR. She cares a lot and is ridiculously creative. I love her carefree attitude and would absolutely be scared by her IRL. She’s cool, colourful and works so well with every member of the Crew. I cannot wait to see her in love action.

Where is he? Where’s our boy? Ezra Bridger???

I love him. He came such a long way from the beginning and is a fantastically written character. Taylor Gray did such a good job with him, I am honestly in love. He’s like the little brother I never wanted because I already have three. Would kill for him. Filoni better bring him back or there will be blood.

And last but not least, Jacen Syndulla.

Lil’ dude, pretty cool guy! Haven’t seen much of him, so I can’t really say. But if he’s Hera’s son, he’s bound to be amazing. He looks a little funky though. Still, baby of the squad, definitely played catch with Zeb and Kallus. Probably became a sick pilot.

Thank you for bearing with me and getting to the end! Any chance I get to talk about my love for the Ghost Crew, I will take it. And thank you again for sending the ask, you are amazing. 💜

from this ask game!

#alexei asks #this was fun!#we all know what my opinion would be on kanan #not sure ap-5 counts as ghost crew #he’s like their distant cousin lmao #thank you for the ask!

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folkreid · 4 years ago

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champagne problems

WARNINGS❗️: mentions of spencer's drug addiction.

TYPE: angst with fluff ending.

WORD COUNT: 2.4K

SONG: champagne problems- Taylor Swift

FLASHBACK

"I think i'm ready" Spencer whispered to himself. Today was the day. He was proposing to the love of his life. He looks into the mirror, finishing the last touches to his outfit which was mainly just a simple blue tie to top off his white collard shirt.

He drives to her house. He was as nervous as he was the first time they went on a date. Their first date was a cute little picnic on a cliff. Y/n had told Spencer prior she was terrified of heights. He took her to the cliff. "You're always safe with me. I'll keep you safe from all your fears" he told Y/n while she was on the edge of the cliff not so scared anymore. She felt more safe with Spencer.

Y/n and Spencer where the perfect couple. They hardly fought. They were each other's comfort, they needed each other and that's all. Y/n always tells Spencer that he's her source of happiness. He's her world. He's her light. Spencer feels the same way. Y/n was very affectionate which took Spencer some getting used to. Eventually he was physically affectionate with her. Really affectionate.

Spencer knocks on Y/n's door after a while. Ten minutes of deciding if he should go through with it or not. He almost ran away from the nerves. "Man up" he told himself. He remembered what his friends Morgan and Hotch told him.

Y/n opens the door wearing a beautiful peach dress. Spencer bought it for her because he accidentally spilled coffee on her favorite dress. She topped it off with her sparkly gray heals. "Hi babe" Y/n softly smiles. "H-hi" Spencer responds in awe of her. He's more focused on Y/n then what he's saying. Usually he'll greet her with "Hi love" or "Hey sweetheart". Y/n noticed Spencer's nervousness, she didn't think much of it. Spencer often got nervous around her. He once told her "I don't think the feeling from the first time I saw you will ever go away". Y/n adored Spencer. He was her heart and soul.

"Y-you look beautiful" he stuttered in amaze of his girlfriend, hopefully soon to be fiancé. Y/n laughed a little. The sight of her boyfriend standing there awkwardly was slightly amusing. "Thank you Spencer you look handsome as well" Y/n gives a small kiss to Spencer. She follows him into the street. Spencer opens the door for her and allows her to climb in. They start driving, Y/n eventually noticed where they were at. Her eyes lit up. Her heart pounding. The cliff from their first date.

"Spence" she whispered. The boy looked over to her. "Yeah?" he replied softly. Y/n looked him in the eyes and felt how much he loved her. She smiled to herself, she smiled about the thought of Spencer. She didn't even have to say anything she just wanted to make sure this was all real. It was.

He parked on the cliff. Y/n gets out the car going over to Spencer who was at the back of the car getting stuff from the trunk. Y/n notices the picnic supplies and her heart melts. "Are we having a picnic like our first date" she excitedly squeals. Spencer nodded staring at her. She jumps, wrapping her arms around Spencer's lanky frame. "I love you, I love you, I love you" she squeezes him tightly. "I love you more" Spencer kisses her forehead admiring the way she got excited over something as simple as a picnic.

"She deserves the world" Spencer thinks to himself. They go to the edge of the cliff like their first date. Spencer lies down a blanket with some fruit and champagne. Y/n sits down on her knees staring at Spencer. "Im really happy" Y/n randomly says staring at the boy who was pouring some champagne into her cup. "So am I" he looks up with almost husky look in his eyes. Y/n took a sip of her champagne before standing up. "Come here" she motions to Spencer. Spencer stands up and walks over to her. Y/n quickly puts on her favorite song.

The song was about being in love and how it was such a beautiful rare thing. Y/n put her head to Spencer's chest wrapping her arms around his torso. "Dance with me" Y/n whispers to Spencer in a calm voice. "I don't know how to dance" Spencer replied with a hint of embarrassment and disappointment in his voice. "Neither do I" Y/n laughs. He grabs her hand and starts moving his feet. They were tripping over each other but they didn't care. They laughed and continued. Spencer turned Y/n so that her back was to his chest. They looked out into the abyss of the night.

Spencer planted small kisses on Y/n's neck. She absorbs the feeling. This is all she's ever wanted. Spencer reaches into his pocket and pulls out the small velvet box. Y/n turns around with widen eyes watching Spencer kneel on the floor. "Y/n Y/l/n you have been my best friend for the past five years. We've been dating for the past two. These two years that i've gotten to call you mine have been amazing. I want to make you mine forever. Your eyes are the light of my life. Your smile warms my soul. I'll never get over the feeling you give me Y/n. Will you marry me?"

Y/n is in shock. She hesitates before saying anything. "Spencer I- I can't" her lip shivers. "W-what" Spencer cries. "I'm sorry we're too y-young i'm not ready for that kind of commitment" she says before running away into the night. "Y/n come back" Spencer cries feeling his heart break. Y/n runs off to a local gas station. She calls an uber and she heads back home. "Y/n" Spencer sobs lying on the grass. He finally collects himself and packs all the things back into his car.

At his apartment Spencer sluggishly walks in and flops on the bed. He picks up his phone and dials Y/n's number. "Hey it's Y/n, if i'm not answering now i'll probably never answer don't call back" he heard her voicemail. He sobbed into the phone. "Y/n please come back" he begged. "Please, please, please" he desperately calls out. He hangs up and cries himself to sleep.

Y/n on the other hand was having a panic attack. "Did I make the right decision" "I'm a terrible person how can I hurt him" "He hates me now". All these thoughts running through her mind. She felt like she could hardly breathe. She climbed into her uber. "Hon are you okay" the older lady asked looking in the mirror. "I- I don't know" Y/n replied trying to steady her breathing.

"I'll put some calming music if you need something tell me" she smiled to Y/n. "T-thank you" Y/n tried to relax. After a while she finally relaxed but she was still unsure of her decision. "Can I ask for some advice" Y/n speaks up. "Of course honey" the lady responded with support. "My boyfriend proposed to me. We've been together for the past two years but I feel like we're to young. I'm not ready for that type of commitment. I have a life to live." Y/n rants.

"You see how you said 'I have a life to live.'?" she started. Y/n nods waiting for her continuation. "Think to yourself. Is it a life you want to live with him?" Y/n notices she's at her apartment. "I guess i'll have to think about that. Thank you" she responds before jumping out of the car.

END OF FLASHBACK

Spencer sobbed into his pillow for the third time today. It was only twelve AM. He's asked for time off of work because of how broken he felt. Spencer never took time off. He loves work but the pain was to much to handle. He was worried for himself. Worried he would do something he promised himself he wouldn't.

Spencer walks over to his drawer. He frantically looks for anything that belonged to his beloved Y/n. "Please" he begged the universe. As if the universe was listening he finally found one of Y/n's old shirts. He lies his head on his pillow closing his eyes, tears shedding from them. "I miss you" he sobbed into her shirt.

He inhaled Y/n's smell. "Please come back" he cries some more. Spencers mind is racing. All these thoughts going through his head. He doesn't want to feel. So what does he think of?. Dilaudid. He kept one of his bottles and syringes. He didn't know why. He was ashamed of it. But he craved it so bad.

He quickly climbed out of bed, lying on the floor grabbing the small box he hid under his bed and got the key to it. He opened it to see the small bottle and syringe. He picks up the syringe and almost flinches at the sight of it. "Don't do this" Spencer thinks to himself. "I- I need her, if I can't have her I can have this" he picked up the small bottle. Right there and then he knew it would go to far if he didn't stop now. He got his phone and dialed Y/n's number.

After one ring Y/n answers. She hasn't been answering his calls at all. "Y/n" he sobbed. Y/n could hear the pain in his voice. She couldn't handle it, she immediately sobbed. "P-Please I need you. I need you now Y/n I- I have... I have Dilaudid. I'm craving please just come" he desperately sobbed into the phone. Y/n was very upset about the fact he had some in the first place but it wasn't the time for a lecture. "I'm on my way don't do anything stupid"

Y/n barged into his room. "Baby?" she looks at him crying on the floor. She goes down to him. "Baby" tears fall out of her eyes at the sight of Spencer. "Y/n" he cries into her arms. She brings him back up on the bed and lies him down. "I've missed you" he cries. "Without you all the bad feelings came back" Spencer sobs into Y/n's shirt wetting it. "It's okay baby i'm here now, let's get you in the shower okay?" he nodded getting up and following Y/n into the restroom.

Y/n starts the running warm water in the bath. She gets the bottle of bubble bath and poured it in. I mix it around watching bubbles sudd up. Spencer was sitting on the toilet seat waiting for Y/n's approval to start getting undressed. Y/n walked over to Spencer and starts unbuttoning his shirt. He slips it off his arms and takes off his belt, pants, and boxers. "Get in" you tell him. He climbs in slowly letting the water warm him.

"Can you get in with me?" he asks. You shake your head up and down and remove your clothing. You get in slowly and lie your head on his chest. "Can I wash your hair?" you ask. He nods and you get on your knees and put them on the outside of his legs. you grab the shampoo and open up the cap, pouring some onto your hands. You lean in to scrub his scalp, it looked like he hadn't showered in a while. Spencer placed a kiss on one of your boobs. "Spencer i'm trying to wash your hair" you tell him. "Well they were in my face what was I supposed to do" he teases.

You grab a cup that was on the side of the tub and fill it with water. You place your hand on Spencers forehead, making sure the water wouldn't get into his eyes. You pour the water into his hair and take out all the soapy shampoo. All he does is stare up at you and look at your boobs, occasionally touching them. You grab conditioner, pouring some into his hair letting it sit for a bit. You then rinse it out.

"Wash your body" you throw his washcloth at him. He grabs the soap and washes himself. "Can I wash your hair now" he asked. You nod and he repeats the same actions to you as you did to him.

You guys both get out, he puts on some sweatpants and a white shirt. He throws me his CalTech hoodie that smelled just like him. He was very proud of all his accomplishments, he wore his CalTech hoodie often which you love.

The two of you lie in bed together. You wrap your hands around his torso and stroke his hair. "How are the cravings" you softly ask, yes it was a sensitive subject to Spencer but it was one to you also. You never did drugs but the only reason was because you saw what it did to your parents.

"They're gone now. You make all the bad feelings go away" he admits. "Good. I'm not leaving."

He looks up with tears in his eyes. "You arent?"

"No i'm not" I kiss his forehead. "But we have to talk about it"

He sits up. "Why'd you have dilaudid, Spencer?"

"I saved some I don't know why. I'm sorry"

"Do you have anymore?" he shakes his head no. You grab the bottle and syringe that was on his desk. You walk over to his window. "Goodbye Spencer's demons" you throw both items out of the window watching it fall down to the floor. Spencer comes to stand next to you kissing the top of your head. You turn around to him.

"Now about this proposal stuff" you start. He shifts his stance getting uncomfortable. "I'm sorry Spencer. I was scared because we are young you know? But I realized that I want to spend the rest of my life with you. So if you'll still have me"

"Y/n will you marry me" he cuts you off. You nod your head frantically. "I love you so much" he planted kisses all over your face. "I love you more"

"Promise me we don't have to rush into getting married" you asked still slightly scared. "Of course my love"

#spencer reid #imagines #criminal minds #angst with a happy ending #spencer x reader

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flowerfan2 · 4 years ago

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A Wonderful Christmastime

Klaine, 1600 words, A03.

Summary: Sometimes being up in the middle of the night together is an act of love. A moment of holiday peace for Kurt and Blaine.

Note: This fic incorporates the first seven words of Klaine Advent 2020 (abashed (a classic fic word if ever there was one), brake, careless, dispensable, event, farm, and gray). It also marks my sixth (non-consecutive) year of writing for Klaine Advent.

The inspiration for the story came from a conversation with @mildly-allergic-to-life and is a gift for her - I hope you like it! Thanks also to my wonderful beta, @perryavenue.

********

Blaine snuggles deeper into the blankets and turns over, reaching out to pull Kurt against him – it’s chilly on this December night, and he knows Kurt’s feet will be cold, but he doesn’t mind. Sadly, his hand flops onto their soft flannel sheets without finding his husband. Moments later, Blaine’s half-asleep brain registers the sound of Kurt’s voice through the monitor and he smiles despite the late hour.

He drags himself out of bed and steps across the narrow hall to Taylor’s room. Kurt is lying on the floor next to her crib, singing quietly with careless grace, one hand resting gently on their baby’s back.

“Hey,” Blaine whispers. “How long have you been in here?”

Kurt twists his head to look at Blaine. “Most of the first act, and part of the second, but I skipped some of the songs.” He glances at their daughter and back at Blaine. “Legally Blonde is inspirational, but not entirely age appropriate.”

“Come to bed, you must be exhausted.”

“I can’t,” Kurt says. “Every time I take my hand off her back she wakes up.”

“Bring her with you,” Blaine says. Since they brought their newborn home six months ago this has been the topic of constant debate in their house, and with everyone they know, who all apparently feel qualified to share their opinion on how to get babies to sleep. They waver back and forth between keeping her in bed with them and trying to get her to sleep on her own, and various compromises in between. (And as they told Tina, who insisted that their very lack of routine was the problem, maybe as long as the three of them are happy and healthy she should just keep her opinions to herself.)

“You have rehearsal all day tomorrow,” Kurt says. “You need to rest. I can stay here, I don’t mind.” Kurt has built himself a little nest on the floor out of a spare quilt and throw pillows, and he’s wearing his fluffy slippers on his ever icy feet, but he still can’t be all that comfortable.

“I’ll sleep better with the two of you in our bed,” Blaine replies. Kurt shrugs, and accepts Blaine’s hand as he reaches down to help Kurt up.

As predicted, Taylor blinks her gray-blue eyes open as soon as Kurt stops touching her, but Blaine scoops her out of bed and nuzzles her little face before she can make a noise. When he looks up, Kurt is gazing fondly at the two of them.

“She has your eyelashes,” Kurt says, and Blaine grins.

“She’s a baby, they all have eyelashes like this.”

“That’s a lie, she has the best eyelashes of any baby ever. And she’s definitely going to have your enviable curls,” Kurt goes on, touching the still wispy dark hair on their daughter’s head.

“If she does, you’re in charge of hair care.”

“As if I’d let you get your gel anywhere near her.” It’s a running joke, but Blaine is serious – his hair looks so much better now that he let Kurt take charge of his products. Of course, these days he’s lucky to catch a shower before running off to rehearsal, let alone have time to style his hair, but that’s another story. Taylor comes first, and no amount of bedhead is going to change that.

Back in their own room they slide under the covers, carefully settling Taylor between the two of them, Kurt reaching across to lay his hand on Blaine’s waist. There’s a soft reddish glow to the light, coming in from the Christmas decorations in their living room. It feels peaceful.

“So what made you choose Legally Blonde to sing tonight?” Blaine asks, keeping his voice quiet as Taylor settles back into sleep. “With all the Sondheim you’ve done lately, I would have thought you’d have picked one of those.”

“I know, right?” Kurt replies. “I think it started because I had the part about the department store stuck in my head.”

“First take a deep breath, take it all in. Feel all the halogens warming your skin,” Blaine sings.

“I always loved that song. I mean, who would have thought there’d be a song about how amazing it feels to walk into the fragrance section of a department store?” Kurt says reverently.

“Right?”

“Don’t tease, you know I’m serious about the value of personal service for some things,” Kurt says. “Websites are good for certain products, but you can’t discover your personal scent on your computer.”

“Did you know that Harry Gordon Selfridge started putting the perfume counter by the front doors in part to cover up the, um, less pleasant odors outside?”

Kurt frowns. “No, but if that’s true, it makes sense. I figured it was just to entice people into spending money on scent while they were on their way in looking for clothes.”

“That too.” Blaine sighs. “So, what made you think about department stores? Have you been worrying about holiday shopping? Because we said we were going to go easy on that this year.” He inclines his head towards the baby lying between them. They love their child more than either of them can express, but she is a money pit, and they have had to revise their current budget several times to identify dispensable items.

“I think it was more that I’m so used to searching the web for deals at night…” Kurt breaks off and glares at Blaine, “and no, I was not online shopping just now.”

Blaine smirks. “I know. Your phone is still on your nightstand.” For the first few months of parenthood Kurt had spent way too much money keeping himself awake during midnight feedings by scouring the web for deals on fabric and craft supplies. After a frank review of their credit card bills, Kurt had agreed to put the brakes on his nighttime online shopping sprees.

Kurt taps his finger against Blaine’s hip. “I may have purchased a few items yesterday,” he admits, abashed. “But they were all for Taylor. Mostly I just send my dad and Carole links. If we leave them to their own devices who knows what they’ll buy her, and they’re happy to farm out the task to me.”

They lapse into silence, listening to the even, soft breaths of their little girl, who has finally loosened her grip on the silk-trimmed blanket she can’t bear to be without.

“I do understand the urge,” Blaine says. “Like wanting to stop and shop for unnecessary plastic objects…” Blaine says, a snippet of another song passing through his brain, and Kurt looks at him questioningly. “You know, from Nanci Griffith’s intro to that song, when she talks about the need to go into a Woolworth’s and buy unnecessary plastic objects?”

Kurt gazes at him, charmed. “No, I don’t know that one.”

“It’s called Love at the Five and Dime.” Blaine hums it for a second, remembering driving in the car with his mom, singing along.

“Rita was sixteen years, hazel eyes and chestnut hair. She made the Woolworth counter shine. And Eddie was a sweet romancer, and darn good dancer, and they'd waltz the aisles of the five and dime.”

”And they'd sing - "Dance a little closer to me Dance a little closer now Dance a little closer tonight Dance a little closer to me 'cause it's closing time and love's on sale tonight at this five and dime."

The melody is soft and sweet, and Blaine does his best to echo the singer’s gentle, swinging style.

Kurt rubs his thumb along Blaine’s hip. “That’s really pretty.”

“I’ll play it for you sometime. She does this neat thing where she plinks her guitar string to sound like the ‘ding’ of the elevator. I think it would work on the piano.”

“It’s a nicer shopping song than the Legally Blonde one,” Kurt says.

“It’s about love, not shopping, really.”

“So is the Legally Blonde one,” Kurt insists. “Elle is taking Emmett shopping for clothes so that he has exactly the right look to give him the confidence he needs. That’s an act of love.”

“I know.” Blaine smiles at Kurt, thinking of all the hours they’ve spent selecting outfits, Kurt never failing to offer his opinion on what Blaine should wear for an audition, or an interview, or some other career defining event. Kurt always does everything he can to help Blaine feel prepared to face the world, and Blaine appreciates it more than he can say.

“Anyway, I like the song,” Kurt says. “Sing some more.”

Blaine smiles and sings the rest of the Nanci Griffith song. By the end, the hand Kurt had rested on Blaine’s hip has gotten restless, and is moving enticingly towards Blaine’s ass.

“Honey?” Blaine asks, catching Kurt’s eye. “Is me singing about shopping turning you on?”

Kurt runs his hand back over Blaine’s hip, then walks his fingers up Blaine’s chest over his pajama shirt, his touch light and teasing. He catches Blaine’s gaze. “You should know by now, you singing about anything turns me on.”

They both look at Taylor, who is sleeping deeply now, her whole body lax. They obviously can’t get intimate with her lying in between them, but…

“Wanna go fool around by the Christmas tree?” Blaine asks, grinning.

They extricate themselves from the bed carefully, arranging the blankets just the right distance away from and around their daughter, and creep out to the living room. Kurt takes an afghan off the couch and spreads it on the floor. They lie down together, gazing at each other under the twinkling lights, until Blaine pulls Kurt into a fervent kiss.

At one point they roll a little too close to the tree, and they freeze, giggling, as Kurt re-positions a sparkling ornament so it doesn’t fall on them during an inopportune moment. And if Blaine has a bit of tinsel in his hair come morning, no one minds a bit.

End notes (sorry, I seem to have a lot of notes for this little fic)

The songs mentioned are Nanci Griffth’s very lovely Love At The Five And Dime, and Take It Like A Man from Legally Blonde. I really also wanted to work in the Barenaked Ladies ode to shopping, too, (just called Shopping) but it didn’t fit. Title is from Paul McCartney’s song A Wonderful Christmastime, covered by the Barenaked Ladies on their holiday album (which is great and includes some really fun Hanukkah songs too).

Note also that Blaine and Kurt are also tired of people asking about their baby’s name, as well as poking their nose into her sleeping habits. They picked Taylor because it’s gender-neutral and they like it, and not because Blaine knows the words to every Taylor Swift song.

#Klaine Advent 2020 #Klaine Advent: grey #Klaine #Klaine fic #@mildy-allergic-to-life #Holiday fluff #10 Years of Klaine

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ughgclden · 4 years ago

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CONGRATS LOVE I'M SO PROUD 💕💕 YOU'RE AMAZING AND YOU DESERVE IT<333

Now i have a problem because i want all of them but i'm going to ask for 🧸(romantic) and because i can't choose i'll let you decide between 📜 and 🪐 (sorry jsoabskal)

My description: I love nature, it mesmerizing how beautiful it is and I especially enjoy the night because i love astrology, the stars and the moon. I'm kind of shy but when i find something i like i can't stop talking about it. If i like something, it becomes an obsession quickly. I'm the outsider of my friend group so i kind of always pay attention to everyone so they don't feel alone. I love Taylor Swift and Lorde and i want a relationship like the ones in Hozier's songs. I have an HUGE crush on Conan Gray. My coping mechanism is sleeping, reading and listening to music. My favorite color is purple . I write but i'm to shy to post it, but some times i do it. I have 6 books in my nightstand and i've started 4 of them. There are periods of time when i read like 3 books a month or i can't read at all in 4 monts, there is no in between. I can't sleep without my teddybear and i'm always cold.

If you decide to do 🪐 my prompt: the poets find out cam and the reader have feeling for each other and they try to bring them together

CONGRATS AGAIN DARLING AND THANK YOU FOR EVERYTHING YOU DO :') (Sorry if it's too long)

thank you sm darling omg that means so much!!! of course, i'll do all three of those for you 💌

i'd pair you with..

this boy is in love with you, i swear. he really appreciates how much you pay attention to everyone you're with, often feeling like he can fall into the background in most conversations. so having you there, showing him you're listening, is a confidence boost he really needs. he also makes sure to extend this to you, making sure you always feel included wherever you two are.

todd also loves nature, and really admires how much beauty you can find in the world! he'll often take you on dates like late night picnics, so you can admire the moon and he can admire you. he'll point out things he thinks are particularly beautiful to you, like some colourful flowers or a butterfly, purely to see your face light up.

since you're always cold, todd will constantly carry around a spare jacket, or offer you his hoodie or sweater if you even so much as shiver around him - before you can say anything, he's shoving it into your hands clumsily with a shy smile.

he'll happily listen to lorde and taylor swift with you - he loves fearless (taylor's version) but you didn't hear it from me - and finds himself humming some of their songs under his breath after spending time with you. todd also tries his hardest to make you feel like your relationship has been stripped straight from a hozier song; he takes a leaf out of knox's book and tries to become more of a romantic, just to see you smile.

todd isn’t the most informed about astrology, but will happily listen to you talk about it and will ask you about his birth chart and what each of his signs mean - he instantly asks if your signs are compatible

will happily fall asleep with you whenever you get tired - he'll let you cuddle up into his side and will play around with your hair or trace shapes onto your arms until you've fallen asleep. it doesn't take long for him to doze off too.

he'd always love to read your writing, but would never force you to show it to him as he knows what it's like to be shy about your writing. if you do share something with him, he'll shower you in praise and compliments, making sure you know how talented you are and pointing out his favourite bits to you.

he thinks it's extremely cute you can't sleep without your teddybear. he buys you some that he thinks are cute, so you always have one when he sneaks you into his dorm, even though he knows they won't be as good as the real thing.

📜 - i adore seeing your posts on my dash, or seeing your url in my notifications - it always makes me smile! you genuinely seem so sweet and lovely, and your blog is just perfection <3

and for your headcanons!

it’s charlie who first realises cam’s feelings for you. cameron isn’t the best in handling romantic feelings, so his awkward interactions with you are more than enough evidence that he has a crush.

being charlie, it doesn't take long for this information to spread to the rest of the poets, who take any opportunity to playfully tease cam about his crush. he gets way too flustered and tries his hardest to deny it, but there's no point.

it's a few weeks afterwards that you confide in todd that you have feelings for cameron, not knowing that he returns them. todd immediately relays this information to neil - feeling a little bad for betraying your trust, but knowing it will end well for you both.

from that moment, the poets try their hardest to set you up. meeks casually mentions to cameron that you need help with a specific maths problem, or you just so happen to get stood up by the poets when you were supposed to be hanging out as a group.

cameron quickly realises what they're trying to do. so, he bites the bullet before it can get too out of hand and confesses. luckily for him, these feelings are reciprocated.

thanks so much for sending something in lovely, i hope these were okay!!!

#bee’s 700 follower celebration

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writeraquamarinara · 4 years ago

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as with everything else in life, I’m late to making this post. I tend to make one around Jan 1st every year, but it’s now a few days after that, and all i can say for myself is that time is non-consequential during a pandemic, right? right.

anywho, this is my usual “thank you for keeping me going this year” post, but with even more fervor. 2020 would not have been nearly as tolerable without you all in it. and when i say all i really do mean all. thank you to anyone who follows me here or has read and supported my work on AO3 or has sent me a message or an ask or even just likes my posts. you can never know how many people’s hearts you’ve touched, lives you’ve made better, but i’m telling you now: you made me smile and laugh and feel love in a year that could have easily stolen all that. thank you for sticking around.

a few more specific shoutouts are under the cut to keep from flooding your dashes. i hope you’re all having a wonderful start to the new year.

much love, mari

to @anniemurphys: ria, i cannot thank you enough, for so many things. you played such a vital role in turning this year around for me. your friendship, and the friendships you’ve helped me make through book club, kept me smiling from week to week. i never wanted to leave our meetings, no matter how long they’d already gone. I could listen to your literary analyses and life advice for days on end. you’re such a kind, patient, loving person, and I’m so lucky to have you in my life. here’s to another year of freaking out over taylor swift albums and the power inherent in voluntarily turning oneself into vegetation.

to @bigdsgirl: heidi, you’re one of the sweetest, most hard-working people i know. you amaze me, and you graciously humor my latest hyper fixations—somehow always knowing, always reblogging content related to what i’m obsessing over at the moment. you give such great advice and have such a calming presence that i love being in chats and on calls with you. i cannot wait for more zoom movie nights in 2021.

to @hellodinoflower: raptor, you’ve supported me for so many years now, and whenever i feel down about my writing i’ll go back through the comments on some of my old fics and yours always make me tear up. you’re so thoughtful and kind and excited about my work that i cannot help but be the same. i hope you enjoyed the little dino reference in pride & publishing—i tried my best, i really did—and i hope you’re doing well. sending you so much love.

to @soyforramen: soy, i promise i’ll get to your head canon asks some day. i promise i haven’t forgotten them; i’m just uncreative and uninspired, but what else is new. you, however, are brilliant and kind and thoughtful, and your guidance in making both life and fic-writing decisions has been so important to me this year. wishing you so much luck with school this year, and even more happiness.

to @ithoughtyoulikedmereckless: rach, where to even begin? you’re the person i talk to when i’m feeling happy or sad or annoyed or angry or pretty much anything, really. our FaceTime convos are my favourite, no matter what time of day we have them at (somehow, the ones at 10pm are just as crazy as the ones at 3am, and i don’t really understand how or why, but i love that for us). i’ve learned so much about myself through my conversations with you, and you keep me level headed when i start doubting myself too much. you understand me on such an amazing level and i’m so lucky that you reached out to me so many years ago. i’m so lucky that we just happened to find each other on here and just so happened to move near each other this year. i still cannot believe i get to see you in person and go on walks in the woods with you. you’re such a talented photographer, writer, painter, baker, and all around artist; an incredibly kind and funny person; and i aspire to be you. i’m rambling now, but just know that i love you.

to @catthecoder: lav, my light, my love. seeing your icon and username on my dash makes me smile so hard. you just give off the best vibes and chatting with you always leaves me feeling like i’ve been basking in the sunlight for the past few hours. we need to make a resolution to sprint with each other more often this year, even if 2021 is going to be as hectic as ever, as i find so much joy in reading your snippets as we go along. you’re such a wonderful writer, and i often read your gift to me from years ago for inspiration and comfort. i hope you’re doing well and am sending so much love.

to @stirringsofconsciousness: stirrings!! i know you’ve had a super busy year, but you still made time to chat with me and i’ll be forever grateful. i often think about the advice you’ve left for me and the thoughtful responses you’ve given to my personal posts and find so much inspiration in your own words and actions. i also still cannot get over the time when you sent me a post of artful vases because you thought of me when you saw them. mortifying ordeal of being known who? anyways lol, i just wanted to thank you for being in my life and wish you a happy 2021.

to @heavy-lies-the-crown: alex, i just wanted to thank you for putting your time and energy towards answering my incessant questions this year. you’ve been an inspiration to me as a writer ever since i first found your work, but you’re also an inspiration to me as a person, and i’m always thinking about the advice you’ve given me. i hope you had a wonderful end to 2020, and that 2021 brings you even more joy than seeing your posts on my dash brings me. much love.

to @stonerbughead: maria, you brought so much happiness to my 2020. your support for my work took my breath away every time, and I swear I nearly cried when I saw your latest comments on pride and publishing. you put so much time and energy into this fandom, and into supporting the people in it, and I hope you know that it doesn’t go unnoticed. we all love you, and we’re so lucky to have you; your fics are brilliant, your podcast highlights are a joy to read, and your disdain for ras is hilarious. thank you for being you. sending lots of love.

to @sullypants: sully, it’s been years and i still marvel at how lucky i am to know you. you’ve taught me so much, from how to be more thoughtful to how to navigate therapy and self-love to how to be a kinder person in the world. you introduced me to ask polly and you send me really nice asks and you’re one of like four people who interacts with my posts on a consistent basis, which makes me feel a little less alone in the world, if that makes any sense. i’m going to stop myself from rambling on or else i might cry, but i just wanted to thank you for—here comes the cliche—changing my life (doesn’t everyone we meet change our lives, in some way or another? but you’ve changed mine considerably, and for the better). sending you so much love (in the form of both yellow and blue heart emojis)

to @justcourbeau: mel, our paths cross less frequently now than they used to, but that doesn’t mean i don’t think about you and the conversations we’ve had, or smile when i come across your posts on my dash, or when i happen to open up instagram once in a blue moon and see you’ve posted on your story. please never stop sending me sparknotes memes—especially cask of amontillado ones. your words of advice from the night i called you, distraught, a few years ago live in my brain rent free, and i will continue to carry them into 2021 with me. i hope 2021 treats you well, and that you achieve all you want and more. sending you an immense amount of love.

to @protectorofthesmoll: your string of comments on pride and publishing made me cry multiple times, i swear. i still read them back every so often, when i’m trying to muster the courage to start up on the new chapter. your support means so much to me, and it amazes me how far back it goes: I’m pretty sure I have at least two asks of yours sitting in my inbox, from back in 2018 when I had barely any followers or supporters, both of them writing prompts that I never filled. i promise i’ll get to them one day. anywho, i just wanted to thank you for your support this year, and every year before that. wishing you so much love and happiness in 2021.

to @panalegs27: 2020 was the year of figuring out that we have so much in common: a hatred of dating apps, confusion over tumblr’s obsession with the raven cycle, and an attraction to logan lerman with gray hair. thank you for chatting about all of these things, and more, with me; seeing that you’ve sent me a post always makes me smile, and our conversations make me laugh. wishing you even more love and laughter in 2021.

to @indiebughead: maria, it’s been so lovely getting to know you more over the course of this year. i love listening to your stories and living vicariously through you, lol. (i want updates on new neighbor boy, asap!) thank you for listening to my petty rants and for encouraging me to make bad decisions and be salty on main when i want to be. i couldn’t have asked for a more supportive conspirer ;) sending lots of love.

to @redundantoxymorons: iz, you’re one of the smartest, most eloquent, most supportive people i know. i know 2021 will be both stressful and exciting in many ways, and i wish you all the best. i know you’re going to thrive wherever you end up, and i’ll cheer you on as you navigate this new world, just as you’ve done for me all these years. i’m so lucky to have you as a friend, supporter, and beta, and all of our conversations bring me so much joy. pls continue to gush about taylor swift and rec books and send uquizzes with results that make me feel Known in 2021. i love you very much <3

to @cracklr: leda, i’ve missed your passive aggressive smiley faces, but your gushing insta comment more than made up for that, i promise :) sending you so much love and happiness in this new year <3

to @dottie-wan-kenobi: dottie, the posts we send each other make me so upset, but in a good way—the “if i just had to see this nasty shit then so do you” kind of way—and i love that about our relationship. who else would understand how disgustingly hilarious something is other than my wife? no one, that’s who. i often think about how you were the first friend i made in fandom, and i’ll be forever grateful for that: i couldn’t have found a better person. i love you so much, and am sending you all my love.

this list of shoutouts is really much shorter than it should be, but my brain is currently friend and i cannot seem to think properly anymore. therefore, i’m going to call it a day and reiterate my above statements that I love you all, and I hope you have a fucking amazing 2021.

#i can't find my 2019 one of these so i've decided i need to start tagging them with something so i can read them back #so for posterity:#end of the year appresh #anywho #none of this is edited or read over #so if it's embarrassingly cheesy or there are typos... welp

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