quiet delicious

Weekly Reading List #5

Alright y'all… here’s my weekly reading list, hope you like it. I’ve added a ‘Keep Reading’ this time, bc freaking Smut Appreciation Day made this list pretty long. Enjoy it, and please feel free to leave a feedback, my askbox is always open!


Hookup by @jpadjackles
Prompt: Sam meets up with the reader at a bar, and neither of them want to go home alone. Both their jobs require them to move around a lot, and sometimes, they get a little antsy and crave the affection of another person. That leads them to Sam’s motel room for one night of pure fun.
Warnings: smut, oral (female receiving) fingering, this is PWP

this was incredibly hot and sweet. sam’s character was on point. i can imagine that they exchanged phone numbers to met again someday. at least that’s what i wished for.

Originally posted by demondetoxmanual


Slow Ride by @rizlowwritessortof
Yeah, you all should have known this was coming… They don’t call me Cowgirl for nothing…
Warning: Smutty Smut

Good god, after that scene, i hoped that someone would write a fic about it, and this is absolutely perfect!!!

Originally posted by faramaiofnerdwoodforest


The One With The Poking Device by @eyes-of-a-disney-princess
Summary - An awkward moment while sharing a bed leads to an interesting morning.
Warnings - Swearing (duh), injury (very slight),smut, oral sex/face riding (female), fingering, unsafe sex (remember irl to wrap it before you tap it)

This Fic is hilarious, seriously, it cracked me up. Awesome work, and hot af. Love it!

Originally posted by evergreendean


Keep reading

lumeha  asked:

Misérables + Contemporary France

Modern AU, of course, Enjoltaire, 1295 words


It starts very innocently. Well, as innocently as going to Paris for a protest against the new work laws can be.

The first hour is okay. They went to the station early to be sure not to miss their train, Enjolras bought the tickets in advance, Courfeyrac brought enough snacks for everyone, Combeferre and Feuilly brought enough books to keep all four of them occupied. The wagon is almost empty, and deliciously quiet in that little morning. They chat, read, and keep themselves busy. Courf and ‘Ferre are sappy and mushy and take horribly sweet couple selfies, Feuilly folds a few origami animals, Enjolras works on his little speech. Everything is perfect.

The second hour is a bit less enjoyable. More people fill the wagon. Two people sit across from them, and they are less than quiet. In fact, they are quite noisy. They have booming laughs, pick endless fun at each other, and Enjolras is quite sure the one with a green, paint-stained hoodie, is looking at him, as if he’s checking if his jokes have an audience. Or checking him out, he doesn’t know. Anyway, he won’t dignify him with an answer, and not only because the guy will probably deny everything. And Courf and 'Ferre won’t let him live it down, so he keeps quiet. But he’s quite sure Feuilly is discreetly checking the muscles of the other one. With reason, the man is ripped. It’s a miracle his leather jacket hasn’t abandonned the fight yet. The other man isn’t as muscular, but his shoulders are large, and his hands seem…. strong. He’s not that bad looking, if one is into scruffy-looking, not-slept-in-five-days, shaving-is-a-loss-of-time men. Which Enjolras is of course not. He makes a conscient effort to dive into his book and not lift his eyes again.

During the third hour, the train suddenly stops. Enjolras, who managed to nod off even with the noise of those two annoying men, raises his head, expecting the crowded platforms of the Saint-Lazare station. Instead, he’s met with a field bathed in sunlight, with two lonely trees in the middle, and a small village barely visible near the horizon. He looks at Combeferre, who shrugs and answers :

- I don’t know. But we won’t stay here for long, I’m sure. Ten minutes, maybe.

He’s wrong.

Ten minutes turn to twenty, then thirty, then one hour. Enjolras tries to warn the others that they’ll be late, and is rather bummed to see that there’s absolutly no cell reception. On the other side of the aisle, the man in the green hoodie does the same, and frowns. He says something to his friend, that he doesn’t get, slumps into his seat and closes his eyes. Enjolras glances at him above his book. The man has a little smile, as if he’s aware someone is watching him. His friend pokes Feuilly in the ribs, and engages him into a ferocious round of thumb wrestling. Courf and 'Ferre are talking in hushed tones, but they are glancing at them from time to time. Probably betting on who’s going to win.

Enjolras goes back to his book. He hasn’t read three pages, when he realizes that a train without power means a train without air conditionning. And with the sun hitting the windows, the wagon quickly turns into a sauna. Courf is the first to take off his sweater, and almost wrestles 'Ferre out of his before he suffers a heat stroke. 'Ferre assures him that he’s a doctor and he knows what he’s doing, but soon, he’s freed from his cardigan.

The two other men do the same, and Enjolras hears Feuilly’s breath hitch. Which he’s glad for, because it means no one heard his do the same, especially not the scruffy-looking man. He’s staring, he knows, but he can’t help it. And Feuilly is, too. Who could blame them ? Both men are covered in ink. The taller man sports a full sleeve of black lines in intricated patterns, and Feuilly is all over them, but it may be due to the muscles barely concealed by the white t-shirt.

The other man… it starts at the wrist, drops of pastels, like watercolors staining the skin, turns into clouds a bit higher, and from the clouds grow flowers of all colors, surrounding words that Enjolras can’t read from here. The left arm is covered too, with lines of writing surrounded by leaves in vivid colors. There’s a letter on his wrist, a capital R from what Enjolras can see. He’s staring, he knows, but he can’t help but admire the work of art displayed on the skin.

There’s a light chuckle, and he looks up, to see the man staring back at him. He has the greenest eyes Enjolras has ever seen, and long eyelashes, and for a second, he honestly /gapes/. Then his senses come back to him, and he dives into his book, lifting it in front of his face to hide his ferocious blush. Courf and 'Ferre are giggling, and he’s sure they’re making fun of him. The man picks up his bag and riffles through it, but Enjolras is well-determined not to look at him again for the rest of the trip, however long it’ll be.

Finally, the train starts to move again. Enjolras gets caught in his book again, and soon, they arrive at the station. He grabs his stuff and wants to bolt out, but of course, now there are people blocking the exit. Behind him, Feuilly is talking to the tall man, and 'Ferre is trying to get dressed without hitting his head against the upper shelf. There’s a tug on his bag. Enjolras turns, to find himself face to face with the scruffy-looking man. Instantly, his blush comes back full force. He tries to say something, but what do you say when you’ve been caught looking at a somewhat attractive stranger ? Who, up close, isn’t bad-looking at all…

The man doesn’t say anything either, just hands him a piece of paper. Enjolras takes it, of course, he’s a polite young man. He wants to say something, but the man walks back to his friend and pushes him out of the train. Feuilly waves at them, almost bouncing on his feet. Immediatly, Courf and 'Ferre are all over him, asking him all the questions they can think about, on that new friend and who is it and what does he do and what did he say ?

Only when they are in the subway, Courf comfortably seated on 'Ferre’s lap, is Enjolras able to take a look at the mysterious paper. He turns a bit aside, and unfolds it. And there he is, looking right back at himself. It’s a portrait of him, a very nice one even, that doesn’t show his unruly hair, agressive blush and weird smile. In fact, he looks… godly. It’s really a very nice portrait. He stares at it for a moment, then turns the paper, to see if there’s a message, something. But there’s nothing. The man didn’t write anything. Enjolras looks at the portrait again, trying not to feel disappointed. He goes to fold the paper and put it in his wallet to preserve it, when he notices the curls filling the hair. Artistic, audaciuous… and forming shapes that suspiciously look like numbers. Like a telephone number, even. Enjolras memorizes it, and as soon as the portrait is safe in his bag, saves it into his phone. After the protest, maybe he’ll try to find if this is a legit number. He doesn’t know yet what he’s gonna text that man, but he’ll find something. After all, if Feuilly already got twelve texts from the other, it can’t be that hard.

(He’s right.)

Ladrien Summer (12/?)

ladrien summer tag | table of contents

The only problem with his new position, Adrien found, was that the pain was distracting him from fully enjoying it.

Her thighs were soft, supple — higher than was ideally comfortable but it was Ladybug and Ladybug’s thighs (and Ladybug hovering over him with pink cheeks and a look of shy delight), so obviously it was the most comfortable pillow in the world.

They rested in silence as Ladybug nibbled her way through her own crepe (Adrien slightly jealous and mostly not; his stomach hurt) and Adrien recovered, thinking about how maybe next time he could just be seen as taking bites of cake? And then he could hand them off to Belle or Lily or Alice on the down-low — their diets were about five times worse than his, and Alice, he knew, had a least as bad a sweet tooth as he did.

Ladybug leaned against the back of the bench with a quiet sigh as she set the wrapper for her crepe aside, looking at the stars.

“You can, uh, have mine,” Adrien offered, voice coming our rougher than he expected. He cleared his throat. “If you want it, of course.”

Keep reading

I Love You, Still pt. 3

Originally posted by blogfandomimaginesstuff

Pairings: Again, Dean x Reader & kind of Chuck Bass
Words: 1,469
Part: 3/?
Warnings: Possibly light swearing but I don’t think so.
A/N: The wedding part has been my favorite part of the series so far, I hope you like it as much as I do!
Tags: @nachoaveragejoe @jensen-gal

Part 1   Part 2   Part 4


Strangers sit in rows waiting for the wedding party to walk out at any moment. Sunlight shines overhead and not a single cloud can be spotted in the sky. It’s a marvelous day for a wedding. The altar is decorated with pearly white flowers wrapping itself around the wood perfectly, fairy lights hang between tree branches ready to light up the sky when the sun finally dips below the horizon. Guests chatter about the venue’s beauty and brag about the delicious champagne.

Everyone quiets down when Chuck makes an entrance, they all grin when they see him dressed in his grey tux and jittery hands. Chuck shakes hands with his guests and passes around quick hugs to his few loved ones. He stands beside the priest at the altar and awaits for his beloved bride to make her entrance.

Slowly, bridesmaids and groomsmen walk in, arm in arm. Chuck watches for Y/N intently trying to calm his nerves. Alas, the grand doors open and Y/N walks into the world around her, she floats down the aisle grinning at Chuck for a moment before her eyes scour the crowd of standing people for Dean. Her smile falters only for a moment when she can’t spot him. She continues to walk over pastel petals until she meets her groom. Chuck beams at Y/N taking in all her glory, her hair is pulled into an updo, flowers tucked into her bun. Her white dress still trails behind her and the sun hits the dress’ sparkles just right. If Chuck were a crier, he would be weeping at the gorgeous woman that stands before him. She was magnificent.

“You may be seated,” the priest instructs to the guests with a husky voice, “We are gathered here today to celebrate the joining of Y/N Y/L/N and Charles Bass as they begin their everlasting journey together.” Chuck takes ahold of Y/N hand, Y/N flashes a tight smile before averting her eyes back to the priest. “If there is anyone who believes this couple shall not be married, speak now or forever hold your peace.” Silence washes over the crowd of strangers, Y/N peers into the sea of faces, immediately locking eyes with Dean. At just the sight of Dean, Y/N eyes brighten, her smile loosens and becomes genuine, not the one she rehearsed to fit into the Upper East Side. Dean keeps his mouth firm, refusing to say a word to ruin this special day for the love birds. Y/N’s smile falls at his silence. “Then with all my pleasure, I pronounce you, husband and wife!”

Dean’s P.O.V.

I stir awake, my hands unclench from their fists, my body covered in a thin film of sweat. I have to see her, I refuse to let her go again. I jump out of bed throwing on yesterday’s flannel and worn jeans and race out of the all-too-fancy hotel.

Twenty minutes later I find myself watching the elevator doors slide open, “Y/N?” I call for her not daring to walk farther than the elegant entryway. “Y/N?” I call again, but she doesn’t respond. Pictures hang array on a large wall, Y/N’s bright smile shines through each frozen moment of time. My eyes scan through pictures of the seemingly happy couple until they stop on one that takes my breath away. Y/N sits poised, her face angled away from the camera, a ball gown engulfing whatever she was seated on. She was stunning, the most gorgeous girl I could fathom.

“Dean?” A soft touch lingers on my shoulder, “Are you alright?” my head turns in the direction of her voice, my lips curl at the warmth her hand radiates through the shirt. I turn slowly, not daring to look her in the eyes. “Hey,” she whispers taking my cheek in her palm, when our eyes meet she’s searching mine for answers I don’t have.

“Hey,” I whisper taking her fragile hand in my own. She stands before me in a silk nightshirt that’s a size too big and fancy underwear. Her hair is pulled into a loose messy bun, baby hairs sprouting out in different directions. Grey is smudged under her lashes from leftover mascara, a sparkle is embedded in her eyebrow from yesterday’s makeup. I couldn’t help but smile at her.

“What are you doing here?” She asks, hand not leaving mine.

“I’m skipping town today, you in or out?” I ask giving her hand a light squeeze, her eyes widen in excitement.

“Really?” She beams, her eyes glow at the adventure that awaits, “But your case, I thought it was for three days.”

“Who cares? Let’s get of here, just you and me.” Her eyes shine as her lips curl into a grin at my proposal, her feet leave the ground with her excited jump.

“Just let me pack!” She pulls my hand with her as she scurries up the steps of her grand apartment. She leads me past closed doors until finally we enter a large bedroom. A huge bay window takes over one of the walls exposing the city’s beauty. Y/N runs into her closet, throwing clothes into a suitcase that already looks full. “I’m ready,” she emerges from the closet already in a different outfit, pulling the suitcase behind her. “Our adventure awaits Mr. Winchester.” she giggles leading me out of her home.

***

Y/N looks out of the plane window even though we haven’t taken off yet, I can hear the faint music flows out of her earbuds. She’s captivated by the beauty beyond our window the whole flight to Lawrence. Me? Well, I was captivated with her.

***

She practically skips all the way to my beloved Impala, she waits for me to catch up by the passenger door. The wind delicately blows strands of hair across her face, she plays with the hem of her sweater out of impatience. “After you,” I say while opening the car door for her. The keys jingle in my palm as I enter my car, Y/N sits beside me, frozen. Her eyes study the interior and look anywhere but me. “Hey,” I whisper taking her hand in mine, reluctantly her fingers intertwine with mine, her body visibly relaxes at the sound of my words. “Are you okay?”

“I feel like I’m 16 again.” Her voice is quiet, as if afraid I’ll shame her for the confession. “The last time I sat here was when”-

“Yeah,” I interrupt, she didn’t have to continue her words for me to understand her thinking, “Yeah, I know.” My own voice is soft at the dreaded thought from years ago, a mistake I’ve regretted every day since.

“Do your parents hate me?” She inquires, “What’ll they think when they see me again?” Thoughts cross her mind one by one, each tearing her apart, questions I know she’ll overthink for nothing.

“Y/N, listen to me. My parents adore you, they’ve never stopped. They’ll be over the moon to see you and Sammy as well. You’re overthinking, just breathe.” Her head turns slowly, her glossy eyes meet mine in an intense stare.

“I’m sorry, I’m being stupid.” She offers a sad chuckle that stabs my chest. “Where are we off to now?” She grins.

“My apartment, we’ll call it a night. We’ll go to my parents tomorrow, sound like a plan?” She averting her eyes to the outside the window.

She doesn’t say much on the car ride home or the walk up to my apartment. I fumble with the keys to unlock the door before welcoming her into my home. “Here it is, bathroom is straight ahead, living room, kitchen. You can have my bed –I’ll sleep on the couch.” She stands in the middle of the small apartment, her eyes wander over the bare walls and tattered carpet. “Look, I know it’s not some posh apartment with some beautiful view of the city or full of expensive furniture or”-

“I love it,” she interrupts, “I love it, Dean.” She says a little louder.

“You… You do?” My mouth hangs open for a moment before smiling, “Make yourself at home, sweetheart.”

I set her bag by the made bed in my room, she follows watching my movements, “Thanks for letting me stay here,” She says finally breaking some silence. I nod, not knowing what to say. “I’ll see you in the morning,” She smiles walking over to me, her arms wrap around my waist and she squeezes me slightly, “Goodnight, Dean.” Y/N kisses my cheek softly before closing the door.

“Goodnight.” I whisper even though I know she won’t hear. I smile to myself before plopping on the couch and falling asleep.

Don’t you think, Dear Heart, that when I return we will be … enough to settle in our house, to live together, receive our friends, establish a sweet freedom and read newspapers from foreign contries without having the curiosity to go there and see for ourselves what is happening. I enjoy building castles in France (air castles) of happiness and pleasures. You are always half of all these plans, My Dear Heart, and once we are reunited – not to be separated again – what will stop us from savoring together, one by the other, the sweetness of love, the most delicious and quiet tranquility.
—  Letter from the Marquis de Lafayette to his wife, Adrienne de Lafayette, while at Valley Forge. January 6, 1778

Jin: when he sees you walk in he would immediately run to you and hug you. Showing him the delicious food you brought him, his face would light up with happiness. He’d say something like “my princess is always taking care of me” loud and proud boasting about his amazing girlfriend. Being totally thankful he’d probably whisper to you that he would have something special planned for the both of you after practice. 

Rap Monster: Getting teased by the others as soon as you walk in Namjoon would run to you and greet you with a nice kiss in front of everyone so they’d quiet down. Seeing the delicious food you brought he would be totally thankful and happy. He’d say “you’re always taking care of me. I swear i’ve been accident free since i meet you” causing you to giggle and blush as he repeatedly kisses your forehead

Suga: He would probably wrap himself around you once you walked in. Quickly apologizing for smearing his sweat on you he’d look at you really lovingly when you show him the food you brought him. You’d tell him how stressed out he had seemed lately and you wanted to do something nice for him. He would say something like “how did i land someone so amazing like you?” 

Jhope: When you show up with his favorite food he’d totally regain strength just by seeing you. he’d say something like “how did you know i needed to see your beautiful face jagiya” and when he tries the food he would show how much he likes it by dancing and jumping around like crazy. Also making you promise to stay for a bit to watch them practice and give your input.

-Ellie

Joe Sugg imagine || Snapped. ||

Anonymous said:

Hello :) I love your writing and was just wondering if you could do an imagine where Joe is annoyed after having a bad day and ends up snapping at his child. And once Joe goes to apologise the reader opens the door slightly to see the two being extremely cute.

- - -

* Joes P.O.V. *

“Emma-Leigh can you stop it!” I snapped raising my voice a bit more the fifth time around as I watched my three year old daughter running wild around the living room, screaming at the top of her lungs about saving the unicorns… It always slightly amused me that when (Y/N) had gotten pregnant and we found out it was going to be a girl, the Youtube community started calling her Emma Lee as a joke.

We hadn’t intended on calling her that, but after a while it kind of stuck and so the day she was born we posted a iPhone video vlog on youtube introducing Emma-Leigh (Y/Last name)-Sugg to the world.

I was trying to finish editing an important announcement video that I was already behind on posting and she was causing a major headache on top of the headache I had gained after a morning of meetings.

It just hadn’t been a good morning, (Y/N) had left almost immediately after I got back home for her own meetings. As Emma-Leigh didn’t listen to me and continued to run around screaming, before I could stop myself I felt a rush of anger bubble over me. “EMMA-LEIGH I SAID STOP IT!” I snapped loudly at her.

She stopped mid-step and stared at me her blue eyes the exact shade of mine had gone wide. “,‘Em, I’m sorry.” I tried to stop her as her lower lip pouted out and started to tremble. She burst into sobs and tears and bolted from the living room down the hallway toward her bedroom.

“Fuck.” I said lowly in anger at myself rubbing my forehead. “Emma-Leigh.” I got up and went after her.

“GO AWAY!” My own daughter yelled at me from behind her closed bedroom door. 'Emma-Leigh’ on the white door with some flower and butterfly decals… “I’m sorry, daddy didn’t mean to yell.” I turned the door knob and walked inside the bedroom, “I’m sorry baby girl.” I sat down on the edge of her toddler bed as she held a pillow over her head… “Dad was having a bad day and he shouldn’t have raised his voice at you for playing. I’m sorry.” I rubbed her back and she ignored me.

“Please forgive me, wont you Cupcake?” I tried to tickle her a little and she twisted letting out a small giggle. “I guess so.” She sat up and looked at me after a minute.

“You guess so?” I asked raising my eyebrows at her. She nodded simply at me and I shook my head with a laugh.

* Your P.O.V. *

Putting your bag down and your keys on the small table by the front door you looked around, the house awfully quiet. “Joe?” You asked, looking around the living room. “Emma?” You continued to look around and in the backyard just off the living room.

You walked down the hallway and heard the two voices you knew all too well, you carefully opened the bedroom door of your daughter room and peered inside.

Joe was sitting on a small plastic pink chair at a white children’s table, dawning a frilly pink tutu that barely went to his knees with a matching feather boa and a blue bonnet which his light colour hair was sticking out from under. “I do say, this tea is quiet delicious Miss Emma-Leigh.” Joe used a posh old English lady voice as he picked up a small plastic tea cup.

“Pinky up!” Emma-Leigh looked at him with a stern expression, wearing a Snow White costume dress and holding a baby doll. “Oh yes, sorry – pinky up.” Joe apologised putting his pinky up, she nodded approvingly.

“After tea we have to put the babies to bed and go to the spa.” She nodded factually at her father. “Oh yes, my nails could use some colour.” You watched Joe as he spoke and looked at his nails.

“No, dad.” Emma-Leigh sighed dramatically, “you get massages at the spa.” She face palmed.

“Oh, right… Yeah.” Joe followed her every word and you held back a laugh, not well enough as Emma-Leigh looked up and at you through the door. “MOMMY!” She exclaimed brightly. “Mommy knows how to play spa, go can do daddy.” She dismissed Joe and wobbled her way over to you and tackled your legs in a hug.

“Attitude,” Joe said lowly. “Just like her mother.” He added giving you a side glance and a grin.

You stuck your tongue out at him. “Go home Misses Neezbit, you’ve had too much tea.” You said to him as you picked up Emma-Leigh…

Alright guys, here’s a thing that’s been burning under my fingernails for a while.

It’s such a simple, crucial piece of writing advice. So logical it should not be worth mentioning. But I’m gonna do it anyway, ‘cause I feel like sometimes we tend to forget – caught up in prose, pacing, characterisation and plot – caught up in all the crafty, theoretical, brainy aspects of writing.

Writing is not just craft. Writing is emotion brought to the page. It’s a spark of a fire you want to unleash in your readers, it’s the thick promise of thunder lurking on the horizon before you make lightning strike, it’s a helpless cry, grasping fingers, breathless hesitation, boundless and unapologetic joy. Writing is so much more than just words.

So the most important advice I can give?

Feel. Feel your story, goddammit! Because that’s what you want your readers to do, isn’t it? You want them at the edge of their seats, turning pages like their life depends on it.

So if you want readers to care, you have to care first and foremost. Hell, you have to care more than anyone.

Be the first to bawl your fucking eyes out or put your fist straight through a brick wall because goddammit how idiotic can a main character be and you are forced to just sit there and watch. Be the first to jump up in your chair and raise your fist in victory. (Or, well, close your eyes and jiggle your fist just a little. Yes. Quiet, delicious victory.)

Laugh and hope and love, goodness gracious, you have to love your story more than anyone.

It’s what you owe your characters and your story.

And most of all, it’s what you owe your readers.

Honestly, if you can’t be as passionate about your story as a sports anime protagonist in a training montage headed to capital V Victory after tasting the bitter jaws of defeat three episodes and some character development ago, then this is not the story you should tell.

Why would you?

You’re burning to tell a story about a sea dragon princess taking up arms to fight the corrupt pirate king who terrorised her people for the past decades? HECK I’d actually love to read that, what the hell. You’re really passionate about Character A and Character B smooching in the most horrifyingly tooth rotting way possible? Go for it! But if you’re just doing it because … well, you can? You kinda wanna? Not really? Maybe?

Nope! Not the story you want to tell. Not the story you should tell.

You want to tell a good story, don’t you? Else you would’ve stopped at the first obscure sports anime metaphor and scrolled past this pile of junk post telling you to FEEL! and nothing else.

But, really. This is the simplest first step.

Find the story you are passionate about and burning to tell. Bawl your eyes out over it. Be that one parent that hears the word 'child’ anywhere and zooms in so fucking fast the string of photos dangling from their wallet slaps Aunt Debbie in the face as they race by, leaving the poor woman confused and mildly unsettled.

Do what you love. That’s it.

Love writing and stories and words and especially your own.

And have fun!

Happy writing <3

3

you thought you would go on vacation. “I deserve this,” you say to yourself. and you do! you do deserve this! you deserve to see the stars unsullied by light pollution and hear some water babbling cheerfully because it is naturally occurring, not because it has recently been used to scrub vomit off of a subway car. and so you book an AirBnB in Oregon, close-ish to Portland but not so close that you might as well be in Portland. you want to have some NATURE in your FUCKING FACE. 

you arrive and the AirBnB person has left you keys and a kind note in the mailbox wishing you well in sort of spidery handwriting. you take a pic with your phone and send it to your friend to let her know you’ve arrived.

but the stupid “delivered" notification won’t appear. weird. fucking phones, man. it probably couldn’t take all the NATURE. 

but whatever, you settle in for the night (it’s not all that late but you’re used to a different timezone and you’ve been awake since 4am and you’re just DONE with today) and are pretty much just ready to shower and go to bed. the shower is HELLA NICE, one of those water-from-every-direction kind of jobs, and while it’s the most glorious thing that’s ever hit your flesh it’s also kinda loud. you keep thinking you heard knocking, but every time you pop your head out it stops. don’t you hate that feeling of like, showering in a new place alone and thinking you hear stuff? 

anyway, you eat dinner and poke around the house a bit and suddenly it’s dark outside and you decide to go to bed because it’s been a long frickin day. the bedroom is beautiful, with french doors that open out into a stunning backyard that sort of slowly recedes into the woods and you take a little while to look out even though at this point it’s so late you mostly see your reflection in the glass. you’re so tired that you think you see something move in the doorway behind you, which is hilarious — what else is your brain gonna do to you? you’re too tired for this crap, so you settle into this gigantic bed and you’re like HELL YEAH, SLUMBER TIME. and slumber you do. 

only you have these dreams. 

these sharp-edged, too-clear dreams where you’re in the woods, looking at the house, looking at yourself sleeping in the giant bed, and you see yourself so clearly even though you’re watching you in the pitch blackness of a new moon and from hundreds of feet away. it’s strange and unsettling and feels, in the dream, like you are and are not asleep. 

in the dream there is something in your hand and you’re running your fingertips over it; it is cool to the touch and you’re being careful not to cut yourself on it. at your feet there is a crumpled thing that’s soft against your bare shins. you can feel it shivering. you reach down with your free hand and pull it up; it’s lax, breathing softly through an open mouth, and you laugh at it. these things always think so much of their own species, but they are only prey, you think, and prey is all they’ve ever been. you run the knife in your hand over the its throat and its blood washes over you, and you lean down to taste it, but you’re still watching you; you’re still thinking about a future meal that will be much better than this elderly, crumpled meat. 

you wake up tasting blood. 

you leap out of bed and wipe your mouth with the back of your hand and it comes away smeared with saliva — and blood, but just a little bit, not what you were expecting, and you realize you bit your cheek in your sleep and you double over, panting, calming down. 

weird dreams in new places aren’t that strange and you’ve had nightmares before and now it’s so bright and beautiful out and quickly you forget. 

you decide to go for a hike because you’re here for nature, aren’t you? but first you want breakfast, and you investigate the fridge and realize your host has left you some food — all labelled with a date and a note that you should help yourself to whatever you like. you do, because even though you have the rental car you’re not really in the mood to go grocery shopping. you heat up some sausage that the note says the host made themselves, you make some eggs, and you sit at the dining room table reading a book.

the house is very quiet. the sausage tastes delicious, but strange; you think maybe it’s not pork. maybe it’s venison. that would be pretty normal out here in the woods, especially if your host is the kind of person who makes their own sausage. anyway it’s lovely, and you finish all of it. 

you stand with your coffee and look out the beautiful french doors at the line of the woods and contemplate nature or something, and sort of vaguely wonder where the nearest neighbor is. like, isn’t it sort of dangerous to be up here in the mountains and not even have a landline? because there isn’t one, you checked, and you haven’t had cell phone service since you got here, which is weird but probably something you should’ve anticipated. maybe they use a different service up here.

you’ve been thinking so hard about this, and feeling so uneasy, that you haven’t noticed what’s come out of the trees.

it’s nearly halfway across the yard, walking slowly like a big cat will walk slowly, or a bear; you know it’s capable of much faster speeds but that it doesn’t need them right now, not even a little bit. it’s so tall. you think maybe it’s a trick of perspective that it’s so tall, and you’ve never seen an animal this tall and this graceful, and then to your shock you see that it has righted itself, it is walking toward you on two legs, it is staring right at you with eyes as big and blank as full moons and grinning with teeth as long as knives and growing longer, it has black shaggy hair down past its shoulders and it has hands, it has hands, it has blood all down its front, and you whip around to run toward the front door and to your car


and there is another one behind you that starts to laugh when it sees your expression, and it strokes your face and you scream and scream and it laughs and laughs and you know the other one is on the other side of the door because you can hear it breathing against the glass and the one in front of you runs the tip of a knife along your belly under your shirt and says “you’ll make a lovely sausage, you will.”

Fanfiction: One Day, He Says

Title:  One Day, He Says
Author:  MoustachioPenguin
Rating:  M
Word Count:  16k approx.
Warnings:  Cultural inaccuracies, abuse, allusions to rape, fragmented storytelling, open ending, unbetad

Accompanying Art by drawverylittle
More Art
by drawverylittle
And some more art by 4nimenut
Mo is spoiled by @4nimenut

++++

Because Kise has been bought and sold so many times in his life, he questions his worth.  It was with ease that his parents sold him to a brothel to repay their debts, and it’s with ease that his owner sells Kise’s body to men night after night.

Fine silks begin to replace the rags he once wore, makeup accentuates the features men pay an increasing amount of money to see ruined, and sweet perfume masks the stench of those same depraved men.  Kise’s value amongst the courtesan’s has gone from lowest to highest over time—he’s met numerous men both cruel and kind that have threatened or promised that they would take Kise away from the empty life he lives.  A long time ago, Kise stopped believing such things, because despite his company costing more than what an average man can pay… Kise is worthless.

Keep reading

Piece me back together (Shawn Mendes imagine)

Requested by Anonymous

Here you go and I hope you like it and is what you hoped it would be… Remember to let me know what you thought! ( : *

Xx

“Where are you going?” Cam asked as soon as I grabbed my bag and walked to the door.

“You lost that right to know as soon as you slept with her.” I reply through the tears flowing down my face. I open the door to leave, “I’ll come get my stuff later.” I say and without looking back I slammed the door shut behind me. I collapsed right where I was standing and used the door for support.

I still couldn’t believe that Cam would cheat on me and worse of all he did it with Mahogany. It would’ve made me feel better if it was just a random girl or a fan, but one of my close friends… that hurts like hell.

“Y/n?” I heard someone call me. When I looked up Shawn was looking at me with worried eyes, “Oh no, what happened?” He immediately asked crouching down to my level.

“Yeah, never better.” I replied angrily wiping the tears of my face. He didn’t deserve my tears and I wasn’t going to allow him to control my feelings. I jumped to my feet accidentally throwing Shawn off balance. Luckily he was a fast thinker and stopped himself from falling.

“Are you sure?” He asked when he gained his composure back.

“Yeah, do you maybe know about a place where I can get really drunk? I’m not in the mood for this place right now.” I said and watched him stand up. His eyes were still filled with concern.

“Okay, now I’m really worried. What’s going on? Just tell me what happened.” He said putting a hand on my shoulder. It took every little self-control I had not to break down again.

“You know what if you don’t want to take me out to forget about my problems, then I’ll go ask Taylor.” I snapped and turned around heading for Taylor’s hotel room.

“Y/n, wait, I know about a party we could go to, but I don’t think it’s a good idea.” Shawn grabbed at my hand and forced me to turn around and look at me.

“Please, Shawn, I beg you just to take me away.” I begged him with my eyes to just stop asking questions.

“Okay, but I’ll say it again, this is not a good idea.” He said starting to walk back to the elevator with my hand still in his.

“Thank you.” I said giving his hand a tight squeeze. We took a car, given to the boys to travel in, and rode around LA till we got to the party.

“Where do you know this person from?” I asked checking my makeup and hair in a mirror.

“It’s actually Taylor, he met this girl and convinced her to throw a major party.” He said with a smile, but as soon as he saw my horrified expression he added, “Oh, don’t worry, he just accidentally let it slip in front of me, none of the others know.”

“Good, I can’t really handle the drama right now.” I said climbing out of the car. While I waited for Shawn to get out, I saw that I had almost 50 missed calls, 6 voice messages and another 50 texts. They were a combination of Cam’s, Mahogany and even one from Nash. So instead of letting it get to me, I switched off my phone and went inside to the party with Shawn.

“I’ll go get us some-” He starts, but I already spotted people doing shots at a table.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be okay.” I said walking to the people not even turning to see if Shawn was following me.

“Want to join?” A guy with spikey blond hair asks.

“Please.” I replied kneeling behind the table. The guy quickly filled seven shot glasses.

“Who wants to go with her?” He asked looking around.

“I’ll go.” Shawn said with a defeated voice realising that the only thing to do is to join me.

“Alright, you both have 15 seconds to down these shots, if you don’t complete the seven you need to down three beers.

“Does it have to be beers?” I asked with a disgusted look on my face.

“We’ll give you something else.” He replied with a nice smile, “Ready. Set. Go.” He said starting the timer on his watch. It took me a second to realise we started, but then I went for it took shot after shot till I got to the fifth one. I started to see doubles of everything and stuff started swimming around me and unlucky for me I lost. To my surprise Shawn actually accomplished it.

“I didn’t know you were such a party animal.” I slurred poking him in the chest.

“There is a lot of things that you don’t know about me.” He whispered in my ear sending a shiver of pure pleasure down my spine. I didn’t know if it was the alcohol speaking or if it was me, but Shawn was looking sexier and sexier by the minute.

“Here you go, drink up.” The spikey hair guy says placing one cup of brown liquid in front of me.

“I thought I had to drink three.” I said picking up the cup and swooshing the liquid inside while studying the way it moved.

“We don’t want you to die tonight and anyway that stuff is pretty strong.” He added taking his usual spot again. Before they could tell me to go I started drinking. It took everything inside me not to gag and to keep the stuff inside me, because it tasted like medicine.

“You just downed half a cup of rum. Well done.” He said with a smile on his face.

“Thank you, thank you very much.” I said trying to mimic Elvis, but it obviously failed and I ended up laughing at myself.

“If you need to sober her up, go down the hall, there’s a shower.” The guy said to Shawn when he helped me to my feet.

“Not yet, more drinks first.” I said chirpy, stumbling out of Shawn’s grasp and walking to a table where I could get an orange drink. It was quiet delicious and made my stomach warm. Shawn watched me with careful eyes.

“C’mon, be that fun-loving guy again, get a drink and party with me.” I said and just then they started to play my favourite song. Without a word I placed my drink on the table, grabbed Shawn’s hand and dragged him to the dance floor.

“I don’t like to dance in front of people!” He yelled over the music as I started throwing dance moves around him while he just stood there and watched me.

“Then forget about them and just dance with me.” I whispered brushing my lips across his ear. As soon as I said that he started dancing with me and I saw yet another side of Shawn.

We danced for five more songs before we were tired. Instead of going off of the dance floor, Shawn brought me into his arms and we started slow dancing to ‘Fancy’. For the first time since Cam told me about him and Mahogany, I actually felt safe and as if everything will be alright.

“Want to get some water?” Shawn asked pushing me slightly away so he could look me in the eyes.

“Yeah, probably should.” I said. He took my hand and led me to where the kitchen was probably located. When we got there he quickly filled a glass of water for me and for him and we both downed it.

“Let’s go meet some new people.” I said and grabbed his hand to lead him back to the party, but that’s when I saw two people I never wanted to see again.

“Oh look, Cameron and Mahogany are here, I wonder why.” Shawn says about to wave, but I grabbed his hand and pulled him to the nearest door before they could spot us.

“Shit!” I exclaimed closing the door safely behind me and locking it. When I turned around I saw that we must be in the study slash formal living room and luckily for me there were no other doors.

“Will you please tell me why the heck we are hiding from your boyfriend?” He says and at the sound of ‘boyfriend’ I cringed.

“Take a seat, but before I tell you I’m going to need a drink.” I said walking to the table were scotch and two glasses stood. I filled both and handed him one before taking a seat on the couch next to him.

“Okay, so you know how me and Cam haven’t seen each other for quite some time, because he’s on tour and I’m writing exams. So after my exams Cam said he bought me a plane ticket to come out and see him, which made me really happy.” I paused and took a gulp from the scotch. As it went down it set fire to everything inside me.

“Yeah, he told us how excited he was to see you and he talked about how much he missed you.” Shawn added, taking only small sips from his scotch.

“Well, that was one big fat lie, because not even two weeks after he left for the tour and he was already sleeping with Mahogany.” I exclaimed standing up to get another drink. For the first time since I started reliving the story, I didn’t cry. Probably because I was too intoxicated. There was a knock on the door that distracted me from my task.

“Nobody’s answering, she’s probably not even here.” I heard Cam’s voice and almost threw the bottle against the door, but Shawn stopped me.

“Why?” I started to cry and collapsed in his arms, “Why did he do this to me? I thought he loved me!” I added. Instead of saying a word he just held me while I cried. He took the bottle from my grasp and placed it safely on the table before taking me to sit on the couch. The whole time while I cried he rubbed circles around my back and soon enough I was feeling better.

“Let’s get you home.” He said helping me to stand up.

“I first need to get to the bathroom.” I choked out feeling nauseous. I was probably best known as a light drinker by most of the guys in the group and they didn’t make me forget. So Shawn rushed me to the bathroom and luckily I made the toilet just in time.

Shawn closed the door behind me and came to sit next to me. He combed all the hair out of my face while I emptied my stomach in the toilet.

“I forgot how easily you can get drunk.” Shawn said with a chuckle before I just lifted my middle finger up to him.

“Okay, I’m alright.” I said standing up and walking to the sink. I looked at myself in the mirror and saw how terrible I looked. My eyes were red and swollen with mascara streaks running down my cheeks even my hair looked dirty and ugly.

I washed out my mouth a couple of times, till the taste of acid was out of my mouth. I took a rubber band from my arm and made my hair into a messy bun before I washed my face.

“I’m ready to go.” I said and realised that my shirt was covered in barf, “Oh no, that’s just nasty.” I said taking off my shirt and opening the shower taps. Shawn just stood there and watched me in horror, “What? Have you never seen a girl make herself presentable?” I asked turning to face him.

“No, I just thought your Hello Kitty bra was really cute.” He said trying to keep a straight face, but instead broke out into a smile. I felt my cheeks start to get red and tried to cover myself. Shawn saw it and immediately removed his hoodie and handed it to me leaving him with a button up checker shirt.

“Thanks, I’m sorry, I forgot about the bra.” I said trying to keep a straight face, but also failed.

“It’s alright. By the way, I think you are wasting precious water.” He said walking closer to me to close the taps. We both reached for it and when our hands touched I felt something stir inside me. I turned around so I was facing him and his face was only inches away from mine. My heart started beating a millions beats per second.

“Would it be wrong to want to kiss you right now?” I whispered leaning closer to his lips feeling the electricity between us.

“Is it wrong if I said that I want you to kiss me?” He asked and with that I smashed my lips against his. I stumble backwards as soon as he started to kiss back causing me to step into the shower. In a few seconds we were soaked to the bone, but we didn’t break away. Without doing anything about the running water I started to unbutton Shawn’s wet shirt.

When I was taking too long he helped me and threw it to the ground when he was done. He moved his hands to my sides and lifted his hoodie over my head before connecting out lips again. Then he started leaving butterfly kisses up and down my neck leaving goose bumps everywhere he kissed me.

“Is the door locked?” I asked when he started to unbutton my jeans. He nodded before making his way back up to my lips. When he finally returned to my lips, after almost torturing me to death, I kissed him with so much hunger and lust. Something about being with Shawn was so much different than being with Cameron in a good way.

“Are you sure about this?” Shawn moaned when I started kissing his neck, leaving bite marks in the place of my lips.

“Yeah.” I whispered sounding more certain than I felt.

-

“Did that just happen?” Shawn whispered when I closed the tap of the shower. Our clothes were still lying wet on the floor.

“Yeah.” I said and couldn’t help but smile even though I just broke up with my boyfriend of a year two hours ago.

“We should probably get you back to the hotel to dry off.” He said handing me my clothes and taking his. We struggled getting into our wet clothes, but finally we accomplished it, “Here.” He said handing me a towel, “I don’t think they’d miss two towels right?” Shawn said with a chuckle. I hanged the towel over my shoulder before Shawn took my hand and led me back to the car.

We obviously took the backdoor so that nobody would realise what just happened moments ago in the bathroom. We arrived at the car and Shawn, like a gentleman he is, held the door open for me.

“Thank you.” I said before placing my lips on his, “For everything.” I added when I broke away to climb in the car. The drive home, or rather to the hotel, was much better than I expected. Shawn had his hand on my thigh while singing to the songs that played on the radio.

We arrived at the hotel and somehow managed to get to Shawn’s hotel room without being seen by any of the other guys. When he closed the door behind him he just leaned back into it. Without talking I walked to him again and threw the towel to the ground. I removed his hoodie from my body and started unbuttoning his shirt again.

I stood on my toes and connected our lips slowly and steadily. Without moving an inch he kissed back. He dropped lower and grabbed my thighs and lifted me. My legs hooked at behind him and he carried me to the bed. He lightly placed me on the bed, without breaking the kiss, and hovered above me.

He broke away just to look at me. He brushed still wet hair out of my face before running a hand down my body, “Cameron should’ve never cheated on someone as beautiful as you.” He whispered and for the first time I didn’t feel pain by the mention of Cam’s name. If I was really in love with Cam, how is it possible that Shawn could make me forget about him so easily?

“Let’s not think about that.” I whispered before pulling his lips back to mine and pushing out all the hurt I’ve ever felt.

-2 months later-

“They won’t miss you?” I asked as we duck into a janitor’s closet?

“I don’t think so.” Shawn whispered already removing my shirt and covering my body in kisses.

“And they still don’t know I’m here and that we’re doing… this?” I moaned as he lightly bit my neck.

“Yeah.” He replied.

“Good.” I said lifting his head to bring his lips to mine.

Since the night in the shower something clicked with me and Shawn. We haven’t told anybody about our ‘relationship’, because of Cam. Even though he broke my heart I could never return the favour like that. It’s been two months and I’ve been secretly traveling with Shawn from place to place while we try and figure out our relationship.

After we finished Shawn went back to the event and I slipped back up to his room. I ordered room service and watched TV, waiting for Shawn to finish with the event. The food arrived and I was about to pay when a sudden nausea hit me like a ton of bricks.

“Excuse me.” I said running to the bathroom and relieving myself from my breakfast.

“Are you okay, Miss?” The room service guy asked and I just nodded my head wiping my mouth with a towel.

“It’s probably just food poisoning, thank you.” I said handing him a tip before he left. I took a seat on the bed again, unable to even look at the food so I just curled up in a ball and fell asleep.

A few days later when the nausea still didn’t stop, I didn’t tell Shawn anything because I knew he would be worried and stop doing the events so he could look after me, so one day I grabbed one of his hoodies, sunglasses and car keys.

I drove to the pharmacy, making sure that nobody spotted or recognised me, and bought seven different pregnancy tests. I made my way back to the hotel and peed on every single one hoping and praying they were all negative. Don’t get me wrong, I’d love to have children, but I was still in school and I didn’t really have a back-up plan if Shawn wanted nothing to do with me anymore.

After waiting a painful twenty minutes, I lifted up the first one. Pregnant. Second one. Pregnant. Third one. Pregnant. Fourth one. Pregnant. Without even looking at the other three I just threw them in the dustbin and took a seat on the bed.

What was I going to do? Tell Shawn and maybe loose him. Don’t tell Shawn and wait for him to see when I get fat. Before I decided what to do, Shawn came into the room.

“Hey babe.” He said kissing the top of my head. When I didn’t answer he pulled back and crouched in front of me, “What’s wrong? What happened?” He asked worried, brushing hair out of my face. A silent tear rolled down my face, which he quickly caught with his thumb.

“I’m pregnant.” I whispered hoping that he didn’t hear, but with his sharp intake of breath I knew he did.

“How, when, where?” He asked sounding shell shocked.

“I think from the night in the shower. It’s been two months, but I haven’t had my period since then and we were so busy that I didn’t realise.” I said almost bursting out in tears.

“Wow.” He whispered and I couldn’t tell if it was a happy ‘wow’ or a sad and shocked ‘wow’, “That’s… incredible!” He said with a chuckle. My head shot up to look at him in shock.

“I mean, I know we’re young and all of that, but that’s a miracle.” He said and his smile was so beautiful I couldn’t help but return it.

“You’re not mad?” I asked. He started pacing with a smile, a thing he did when he was thinking about the future.

“No, of course not! Why would I be mad? I know we’re still figuring out what it is between us, but I love you and I wouldn’t mind spending the rest of my life with you.” He said and stopped pacing when he said the ‘L’ word, “I love you.” He whispered again, walking closer to me, “I love you, I love you and I will love our baby.” He repeated over and over again with his smile only growing bigger.

“I love you too.” I said and felt my heart do a hundred cartwheels.

“So, we get married and we raise this baby the right way.” He said kneeling before me. I nodded my head unable to say anything, “I don’t have a ring and this isn’t even romantic, but this is all I have to offer you right now but I promise you that I will do it over again.” He nervously rambled making me giggle.

“So, Y/f/n, will you please do me the honour of becoming me-” I didn’t even wait for him to finish before I answered him by putting my lips on his. My arms circled around his neck and I pulled him closer to me.

“It would be my privilege, Shawn Mendes.” I said with a smile.   

Request box is… always OPEN* You know you want to ;) (It’s so long! X_X , sorry ‘bout that)

Preference: He is the kind of boyfriend who...

Louis: He is one of those boyfriends who does not like when you cry. 

“Helloooo?” He coos as he enters the house. “Babe? Where are you?” He asks as he wanders further into the house. 

“I’m in here.” You say flatly from the kitchen floor.

Making his way over there, Louis stopped.“Hun, I didn’t even see you-” His words stopped when he saw that you were curled up on the floor crying.

“What the? Love no, what’s wrong? Please don’t cry. I hate it when you cry!” He babbled on.

He got on the floor next to you and wrapped you up. “Please hun, stop. I can not stand to see you cry, I have never been good with tears.”

Liam: He is the type of boyfriend who makes sure you are okay.

“Liam! Breakfast! Hurry up.” You yell as you finish up the egg casserole you made.

Liam paddles down the stairs, wearing long pajama pants. He walks up behind you and wraps his arms around your waste, resting his head on your shoulder. 

“Go sit down love, I will finish.” You say to him. He takes a seat at the breakfast bar. You open the oven to take out the casserole, but end up burning your hand. 

“Shit!” You yell, bringing your hand to your chest.

Liam jumps up quickly running to your side. “Babe! What happened? Are you okay?”

“Ahh, yeah, I just burned my hand pretty bad I think.” You say bringing your hand away from your body so that you both could examine it. 

“Nah, hun we better take you in. It looks pretty bad, I don’t want to take any chances. Lets just make sure your okay.” He says kissing your cheek.

Niall: He is the kind of boyfriend who wants you to be happy.

“Nah, I don’t think it’s worth that much Niall, it is just a dress.” You say, about to put it back where you found it. 

“Y/N, if you like it, we can buy it.” Niall says, looking in your eyes.

“But, it’s just very expensive, what if I don’t wear it?” In your head, you really just hated the thought of using Niall’s money.

“Nope, we are getting it. We have an event next week, this would be perfect. Hun, I don’t want you to worry about it, if I can do nice things for you I will. If I don’t want to, then I won’t. So I really do. ” He kisses you, and takes the dress up to the counter. 

Harry: He is the kind of boyfriend who loves to take you out.

“Babe, you look so hot.” He says, as you twirl in the new tight gold dress you bought to go to a party tonight.

Once at the party, Harry has his arm around your waist, smiling and socializing with everyone. He hands you drinks and takes you on the dance floor, making sure you have the time of your life. At the end of the night, he wraps his jacket around you, as he ushers you out to the parking lot. Ending the night, with kisses and laughing before tucking you into bed, whispering a sweet “I love you.”

Zayn: He is the kind of boyfriend who is a gentlemen.

It was a beautiful day outside, and you and Zayn were at the mall. Going from store to store, browsing. At each store,he would open the door, letting you walk in. If you did buy something he would not let you argue, he would immediately take your bags and carry them for you. 

Once you finished shopping, you both decided to sit down for a quiet lunch. After some delicious food, the bill came. “Zayn, let me get it. You bought me the beautiful purse today. My treat hun.” You say, reaching for the bill.

“No way babe. I got it. I need a back massage so you can pay me back later.” he says, kissing your cheek and grabbing the bill.

A/N: I hope you like it! If you did, please tell me! If there was something wrong with it, please let me know! If you would like something written let me know:) I am working on a couple right now!- KJ

Sam stood out in the snow, the jacket that Castiel gave him was warm and cozy. Leaning against the tree, he peered around and could see Castiel trying desperately to build a snowman. The angel that held him captive had changed in the last month or so… ever since he’d rescued Sam from the wolves only to be injured himself.

There was something sweet and almost kind…. Sam shook his head. No. He’d been mean and coarse and.. unrefined. 

As the snowman collapsed again and Castiel growled with frustration, Sam smiled to himself. Now Castiel was dear to him and he seemed so unsure of himself. Sam wondered now why he’d never seen it before.

“Here, let me help.” Sam approached from behind the tree. He rolled a ball of snow and helped Castiel set a second one on top more gently than he’d done it before.

When they finished building a simple snowman, Castiel looked down and mumbled something.

“Sorry? I didn’t hear-”

“Would you please accompany me for dinner? I… have something I’d like to show you.” The angel had never been shy before, but he was so gentle now that Sam almost forgot he’d been a prisoner.

“Yes! Yes, I’d like that.” With the answer to his request, Castiel scurried off.

“Well, I’ll be.” A soft voice interrupted Sam’s thoughts. He looked to his side and saw Mrs. Potts smiling from a short distance away.

“What?”

“Oh nothing, dear. Come on… let’s get you warmed up and ready for tonight’s dinner.”

After dinner was over, Sam sat in the content and comfortable quiet. Dinner was delicious and the fact that he’d been asked instead of ordered to the meal made it all that much better.

“Sam, could you please close your eyes?”

“What?”

Castiel cringed, “I mean… please stand and close your eyes. I want to take you to another room… it’s a surprise.”

“Oh! Sure.” Sam was surprised at his own answer. He trusted the angel not to hurt him, when just a short while ago he would have refused and thought it was a trick. He stood and closed his eyes. He felt his hands taken by Castiel’s own warm ones, and he was guided slowly out of the dining room. 

It was a long walk, but Sam could sense Castiel’s excitement.

“Can I open yet?”

“Not yet… almost… let me open the curtains…. just…” Sam could hear the sound of fabric swishing.  "Alright, Sam… now.“

Sam opened his eyes and was amazed to see books. Everywhere. Books upon books upon books. And a ladder to the highest shelves. The room- no, the library was huge.

"Wow…” Sam whispered.

“You like it?” Castiel’s voice sounded so insecure.

“I love it.”

“It’s yours.”