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satanfemme · 2 years

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hello i would like to know about the vampire ocs,,,

putting this under a readmore cause it got LONG long lol 😳. but if u read any part of this I'll love u forever!!! kisses!

YES. so I've got two (2) that I'm focused on rn. both of them live in a fictional island town in lake superior called backbone island (it's based off a mixture of mackinac island michigan as well as rural upper peninsula michigan) and both of them r involved in faustian packs, which is basically what the vampirism is representative of (since faustian packs tend to be done by "signing in blood"... and well.... to become a vampire u certainly "sign" in blood so to speak LMAO). basic world building u gotta know is just: backbone island is fairly cut off from the mainland (very limited cell service/cable, and therefor not a lot of casual tech despite being in the modern day. also NO cars at all due to island law). also the island's economy relies Very heavily on tourism from rich people, which was at its peak in like the 80s, and been much lower ever since (making the economy for the actual locals... kinda bad)

AS FOR THE OCS: the first is named Hunter! and he's a FUCKED UP little guy (I love him) he grew up on backbone island as a repressed gay man, tho luckily he's genuinely big into traditionally-masculine interests like hunting (lol like his name) fishing etc, and altho in theory I think he could have a more fem side too, his fashion sense is also Very masculine (think camo hats and red flannel shirts). so like. all things considered he doesn't necessarily need to "hide" his "real self" or anything. he's just a bit weird about romance/sex (also the island is fairly lgbt friendly ftr!)

and his big thing is he's BIG into catholicism. like to the extent that he's pretty obviously relying on it to Cope with a thing or two and it's his #1 interest. he's also a deacon for the local church, Saint Michael's, which is something he's very proud of (he enjoys helping the church more than anything but would Never enjoy any real spotlight positions like being a priest). unfortunately (for him) church attendance + the influence of the church on the island has also been on a big decline since the 80s. speaking of, the economy being rough hit him personally big time too as a young adult, and he spent a good while Very Poor.

and ok, so that's his backstory, but as for the fucked up and evil "present" about him: between poverty + his church struggling, he got pretty fucking Desperate for a fix to these problems and "accidentally" fell headfirst into hardcore occultism. this "isn't at odds with his catholic values" at all tho... due to the very extreme mental gymnastics he internalizes to excuse it to himself FGHDFGH. but basically he ended up summoning a demon and/or a devil (tbh might straight up write this guy as mephistopheles himself, but I'm undecided yet. I think the nature of the retrospective demon reveal is gonna rely heavily on what kind of tone this story naturally falls into) and this demon promises, ofc, to fix all these problems for him at a price. the price being he gets turned into a fucking vampire baybeeeeee. I will say tho, as much as I love fun vampire lore, the lore in this story will probs be a Lil more down to earth than usual with the main points being: 1. he's technically dead now. doesn't need to breath, doesn't need to eat, etc. 2. he'll stay young and ~beautiful~ forever unless he's killed by someone else. and 3. about once a month he needs to drink one human worth of human blood (and communion "blood" doesn't count 😔). uhmmmm he's lowkey hot about it tho (ofc) and basically uses his sexy hunting gear, like hunting bows and knives and axes (no guns tho; that's not sexy enough for this), to kill tourists/mainlanders for his meals, guilt-free from his perspective (notably: not just the rich ones tho. he literally kills a sad working class guy - who doesn't even want to BE on the island - in the opening chapter :-( so, sorry he's for real kinda evil and I'm not just saying that. and once again, he's doing moral gymnastics about it lmao dumbass <3)

speaking of tourists tho!!!!!! the demon ofc fulfills their end of the bargain (for now) and 1. tourism starts going up again helping the island economy!!! and 2. hunter gets RICH rich. like. "practically infinite money, you could never spend it all without laundering it" rich. he buys himself a nice house and then donates large-but-not-too-suspiciously-large funds to Saint Michaels, helping revive his beloved church

and OC TWO: Johann!!!!!! Johann is one of the very few new people to move into backbone island, and is doing so because he has major sad backstory issues (family deaths, mostly) and feels like he could use the rural isolated forest-y beach-y vibes for a fresh start (tho whether or not this is a genuine need vs just self-isolation is debatable at best). he's got a gray australian shepherd named kipper who he loves more than anything and he's an artist! (not that he feels like he can identify as one, despite his many gen beautiful paintings and drawings... r u picking up on the low self esteem depression issues yet? :-( poor little meow meow unlimited). he's some brand of atheist (haven't decided yet if he'll be culturally-christian or not) and financially he's not poor poor, the uhhhhh family members' will inheritances have certainly been a help for that, but he's def nowhere near as comfy as post-contract hunter is.

oh and also he's un-repressed homosexual <3 he's not loud about it but he's gay as hell and looking for love 👀 and he has cute braids!

sooo anyway basically he moves into town and, despite him being from the mainland, hunter pretty quickly takes interest in him (it's the homosexuality). I haven't quiteeee figured out the specifics of this part yet but after a lil while they'll meet officially and become casual friends (tho hunter is always the one pushing for more. johann likes hunter a lot too but, u know, has the whole self-isolation complex. tbh he's borderline annoying with the depression, but I support him <3) hunter also starts pressuring johann into attending church, which johann agrees to do only because hunter is there.

well, etc etc etc they get closer over time and share a few "dates" and more or less become an unofficial "thing", tho they're rarely physically romantic with each other and never kiss.

well eventually johann's gonna find out that hunter's been lying about where he got his money. cause like. OFC johann knew hunter was rich beyond reason, more or less anyone who knows of hunter on the island knows that (in fact a lot of the church's community projects make sure to publicly name hunter as the main contributor!) but hunter's excuse has always been "inheritance from the kelloggs" (<-michigan specific rich family. I mean. I'm assuming u know who the kelloggs are, but jic u don't know why I chose them specifically for my michigan-located story), BUT unfortunately hunter's surname does Not line up with any part of the kellogg family tree at all. I'm not positive yet what'll prompt johann to look into this but it'll def be because of hunter benig weird and suspicious, so johann's gonna have a gut feeling that something is up. (I know telling-not-showing about these guys in this post probs doesn't make their personalities come across fully, but I prommy u hunters a fucking weirdo sometimes, Especially especially post-contract. it probs scrambled him a bit tbh)

so johann's gonna find out hunter's been lying about a major part of his personhood, and possibly even got all that money from morally-dubious means or something!!! (which I mean... isn't wrong. I would call demon money dubious). so johanns gonna straight up stop speaking to hunter for a while out of anger and mistrust </3 buttttt unfortunately oops! turns out johanns in love with him for real. so johann gets Real sad about the situation too, in addition to the anger, and does nothing but sulk and think about how much he misses hunter for days on end, and also becomes a bit reckless in seeking out the isolation he feels he "needs".

one of these days goes for a scenic walk at night. however this dumbass spent, like, probably months at this point doing nothing but follow hunter around the island like a sad puppy tho, so he is NOT directionally aware of the forest on a personal level At All, especially at night. so he gets lost or twists an ankle or both (whichever feels right vibes wise once I write it, I'll pick whatever really emphasizes how hopeless he's feeling, without overdoing it hopefully). LUCKILY (for a fun story, not lucky for these character themselves) as u may have guessed: hunter is out hunting (humans, cause he's a vampire) at this time of night and finds johann. he does NOT kill johann (yet..) dw but instead brings him back to his church to make sure he's doing alright. physically, he is fine btw. but he's reluctantly REALLY glad to see and be speaking to hunter again. they decide to stay the night (deacon privileges) and it's a bit like a sleepover for them, goofing off, trying on the chasubles. the tense air between them fades and one thing leads to another and they just start kissing right there in the pews <3

uhmmm but, again as u may have guessed by now, hunter who is a literal vampire is Pretty fucking hungry for human blood after being interrupted on a hunt. and is also very in love with johann. so he def already has the thought in the back of his mind to do the occult shit that the demon did to him, but to johann this time, so that his boyfriend can be a vampire with him too... and also so he gets to drink that sweet sweet male wife blood in the process. and then johann, who is naive to this fact, and is just a bit of a sappy romantic, is all like "oh hunter~ I missed u SO so much, I was SO sad without you, I never ever want to be without you ever again, I want to live with u FOREVER and ever <3 <3 <3 <3." so hunter's like, "ok, real shit?" and turns him into a vampire right then and there. which sucks for johann who meant those facts more in a metaphorical sense and is now being painfully killed without explanation for what he "wished" for. and like for real I'm considering both these vampire's turnings as "pacts" but johann's is so one-sided it's practically fraudulent 😭 literally rip king u didn't deserve that (btw of note: often in vamp media, when a vampire is exchanging blood with the human they're turning, they'll use like wrist blood or maybe tiddie blood if they're old school. for these pacts tho, I'm gonna use palm blood for that SWEET sweet stigmata imagery)

ok anyway SORRY this is so long and rambly so I'm gonna wrap this up right about now. but all that's ^ literally gonna probs be at least the first half of these guys' stories. cause unfortunatallyyyyy after this things get pretty locked into stone into their tragic endings. (relatively) immediately after johann's turning things get somewhat good-ish for them at first! they're in love and kinda cute sometimes and all their superficial problems like finances are 100% taken care of. but there's obviously new issues/tensions at play with the whole "hey hunter, why didn't u tell me that you're literally an undead demon-worker as a side gig to your day job as a catholic deacon (?!). and why did you literally kill (and then un-kill) me in an occult ritual 😐" thing. and also, in case the "turning johann into a vampire without his real consent" thing didn't make this obvious, hunter is somewhat ~toxic and controlling~ even if he means best from his pov. this gets worse over time btw. so it isn't too much later that things start going to shit for these two, again, but even worse this time cause in addition to their respective personal traumas they're also now both DEAD and need to KILL and EAT PEOPLE on a semi-regular basis. ("need" to the extent that they couldn't even starve to death if they want to!!!!! if they get hungry to the point of starvation, the evil demon vibes they've got going on in their soul-less bodies will simply take over and they'll go feral until they're satisfied again).

tl:dr I love toxic fucked up gay people and I can't wait to torture these characters AND make them kiss, for my enjoyment.

#exhausted-asterism #hopefully this all is worded well! it's too long for me to proofread this even once. god bless #also if ur curious. in addition to all the obvious inter-personal drama going on I think another major theme of this story is gonna be #the corruption of the christian church. cause yes on one hand hunter is more or less a ''good christian'' morally #(tho he'll have his moments. also I'm not including the occult stuff in that statement as that's not an inherent Moral flaw imo)#(also not including the vampirism in that statement cause I was speaking in general including pre-contract FGHFGH)#(obviously killing and eating people is not moral. kisses!)#but like... first of all my ex-catholic issues have got to go somewhere. and second of all hunter is going to not-so-subtly be -#coercing johann into christianity/the church. even tho that's obv not where johann's beliefs lay #and wow wouldn't u know it! hunter's a fucking hypocrite talking about how important god and jesus and prayer and shit r #meanwhile the only spirit he's ever *actually* talking to is Literally Mephistopheles The Demon And/Or Devil #like maybe work on ur own spiritual journey before forcing it upon others perhaps....#catholicism is genuinely just a borderline aesthetic for him sometimes. not that he thinks it is. but it is.#ok and now I'm done infodumping :-) thank u for reading if u did #christianity #ask to tag

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writingbisexually · 3 years

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Hey-yo look who remembered about WIP Wednesday! I’ll probably post this one soon (I just needed a break after the Valentine’s Day marathon). So here’s a lil clip of my self-indulgent open mic season 3 wish fic. Enjoy! xx

Title: Your Song Sounds Like Home

Excerpt:

The sound of guitar strings being plucked made Alex pause mid-sip and swivel in his seat. He always preferred the musicians to the poets at these things – not that he’d ever tell that to Forrest. Alex took in the sight of the well-loved guitar now on the stage. Then he saw the strong, lean hands holding it and the worn but surprisingly clean jeans it was resting on. His eyes travelled upwards and widened at the sight of worn flannel and messy curls and the black cowboy hat sitting on a nearby stool.

“Hey everyone,” Michael started and cleared his throat. “I don’t really do words. Or singing. But this seemed like a good idea earlier, so.” He plucked at the strings again, like he was distracted. Or distracting himself.

#malex #malex fic #alex manes #michael guerin #roswell new mexico #rnm fic #wip wednesday #wip

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sambergscott · 4 years

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any headcanons about Jake and Amy and toddler Mac at the beach?

YES. SO MANY.

amy has a laminated list of practical things they need to take with them like sunscreen and water and snacks and towels, while jake packs the FUN stuff

he ends up filling the car with so many beach toys that they can’t even get mac in his car seat and after some debate he realises that maybe he doesn’t need all FOUR turtles themed buckets and clears just enough space for the little guy to get in (i was imagining shell shaped buckets in the different colours but it doesn’t look like they make them??? ninja turtles merchandise people hit me up)

it’s not even that hot/sunny but amy is VERY strict about re-applying sunscreen... no way is this mama letting her baby get burnt 🙅‍♀️

after the cruise and their honeymoon jake has already been lectured enough about the importance of sunscreen and dutifully takes off his shirt when she asks and lets her rub it into his back/shoulders

(he very much enjoys returning the favour a few minutes later)

courtesy of caroline: a completely white mac and jake sat next to each other staring at amy waiting for her to tidy their things away before she gives them the ok to run into the water

(also courtesy of caroline: jake blowing up arm floaties for mac 🥺)

jake and mac build sandcastles (or shells) while amy “reads” (i say reads in quotation marks because she gets stuck on the same page for 15 mins; she keeps getting distracted by her boys being cute and showing off everytime they lift the bucket up and it stays in tact!!!!)

she eventually puts the book away and helps them build. she suggests changes based on it not passing planning/zoning laws and jake rolls his eyes affectionately bc she is so!! consistent!!

amy wears the red swimsuit from their honeymoon bc that was a Lewk

mac is SO cute in his matching lil red trunks and hat and they take like a hundred pics for amy’s scrapbook

they’re also definitely That family that ask someone to take a picture of them, jake with his arm around amy and amy holding mac, both trying their best to get a toddler who Does Not Want To Look At The Camera to look at the camera. the stranger may as well be the next annie leibovitz or sun bc it turns out great & they buy a seashell frame from the beach shop to put it in

they’ve taken him to baby swim classes since he was a few months old but this is his first time in the sea & amy’s kind of nervous

she knows the probability of a shark swimming to shore & eating mac is less than 1 in 264.1 million but she still holds onto him so tight... no way is this mama letting her baby get eaten by a shark 🙅‍♀️

jake DOES tease her by humming the jaws theme, earning himself a splash. and deservedly so

(she only takes one hand off mac for half a second to do said splash and then is right back to protective mama mode)

mac ***loves*** the sea (”he’s like our own little melody from the little mermaid returns to sea ames!”)

he’s smiling and laughing so much, which makes amy start to relax and enjoy herself too 😌😌😌

they help him “swim” like they learnt in class and then smother him in kisses when he does so good (he’s a fast learner, the santiago genes are STRONG) (”he’s like our own little michael phelps from the olympics ames!”)

obviously sunscreen is reapplied as soon as they’re out the water

they have SANDwiches and WATERmelon for lunch (jake is pretty sure he was born to be a dad for the dumb jokes alone) bc mac is kind of addicted to watermelons... they buy one basically every other day from the fruit seller on their corner who always sets one aside for them, quickly earning himself no. 1 spot on mac’s list of favourite people

they pack up after lunch before it gets too hot and too busy & mac throws a tantrum as they try to juggle their stuff and put him in the car bc he’s had the best day ever and doesn’t want to leave 😭

they promise they’ll come back soon and bring his other favourite person [shudder] mason santiago

they also play taylor swift on the way home... jake already knew she was magic but the way she has the power to instantly calm their son down??? he has no choice but to stan

when they get home they get sand everywhere and amy is hoovering it up for a WEEK but before she can complain she sees the seashell picture frame and the picture inside it & books another day off work for round numero 2

#jake x amy #b99 #b99 headcanons #maybe i snapped with these

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cakesunflower · 4 years

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No Need Convincing Me [Tattoo Artist!Calum AU] Part 5

Summary: Elodie Banks hadn’t expected to get so caught up in her best friend’s tattoo artist. But all it took was one meeting with Calum Hood for Elodie to feel herself drawing towards him and the ink on his skin. Maybe once she was rid of a miserable relationship and the insecurities that came with it, she’d allow herself to realize that Calum was just as wrapped up in her.

A/N: i’m not entirely satisfied with the end but like. i just needed it to be done. i definitely finished writing this in my medieval lit class while my professor talked about Chaucer bc fuck Chaucer he’s a lil bitch. ANYWAYS. happy reading!!!!

All Parts: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 6

Part 5

“Come on, man, it’s not that hard once you get the hang of it.”

Calum rolled his eyes as he and Michael crossed the street, giving a shake of his head. “Luke likes to play, just ask him.”

Michael let out a scoff, as if Calum’s suggestion was completely unsound. He sniffed, the cold late afternoon air hitting his face as they walked. “Luke dies in, like, the first minute. It’s pretty fucking pathetic,” he added with a patronizing snicker towards his best friend.

Calum huffed out a laugh, hands shoved in the pockets of his leather jacket. He almost regretted not wearing his hoodie underneath, remaining in just a shirt, as the cold weather chilled his body, the chain necklace he wore feeling like ice on his skin in addition to the breeze. He and Michael walked side by side, only stepping apart as a family shuffled past right between them before falling into step with one another as Calum said, “I’m down to play any other game with you except Fortnite. Or that weird card game.”

Throwing his head back to let out a pretty dramatic groan, earring dangling and hand flying up to the top of his head to keep his hat in place, Michael complained, “Magic: The Gathering isn’t a weird card game if you just gave it a shot!”

Calum merely smirked lazily, figuring that one day he’d give into Michael’s request and play the card game. For now he’d just let Michael sweat it out. So Calum shot his friend a look and challenged, “I’ll play the damn game when you decide to start filling in your bands—you work at a tattoo shop, for fuck’s sake.” Michael sputtered, glancing down at his tattooed arm, forgetting in that moment that he had a sweatshirt on. Calum shook his head in exaggerated disappointment. “There’s no reason you shouldn’t—”

He cut off right as a store door opened in his path—where was the sidewalk store etiquette of having doors open into the store?—and Calum wondered if this was some kind of universal joke as Nathan, of all of the people in this populated city, strolled out. He paused, green eyes meeting Calum’s dark brown as he fixed his damn cuff links, lips curling automatically into a sneer as he took in the sight of Calum.

And Calum couldn’t help it, he stopped as well—mostly because he had to as a way of avoiding getting hit by the door—and let out an unamused breath through his nose as he realized they were in front of the high tux shop a couple of blocks from their parlor, before his gaze returned to Nathan. He looked just as crisp and clean cut as usual as Calum eyed him, expression bemused and the corner of his lips just barely lifting into a condescending smirk. His unimpressed stare remained on Nathan while he drawled to Michael, “This fuckin’ guy.”

He heard Michael let out a displeased scoff of his own while Nathan merely smirked as he mused, “Tell me—is the tattoo profession truly that slow since you and your employee here can afford walking around the city during business hours? Seems like I only ever see you out of your shop, pal.”

Nathan was obviously goading him, or at least trying to, a not-so-subtle dig at Calum’s choice of career. Not that Nathan trying to paint himself as the more successful of them had any effect on Calum; the tattoo artist knew his business was doing better than great, and he was pretty damn happy and content with his life. Nothing a bitter, petty, and asshole of a man could say would make any of that less true.

“Funny, I was just gonna say I’ve been seein’ a bit too much of you,” Calum responded, his tone flat and sounding just as uninterested as he was.

It was also meant to be the last thing Calum was going to say to Nathan, exchanging a bored look with Michael just as the words left his lips before the two of them went to side step him and continued on their way. They were just about to merge back into the sidewalk traffic when Nathan spoke up once more, “That’ll happen if you glue yourself to Elodie. How much longer are you planning on doing that, by the way? Being so codependent isn’t healthy, you know.”

A soft yet disbelieving breath escaped Calum’s lips at Nathan’s words, eyes rolling skywards as he wondered if the mad bastard really just uttered that statement. Calum would’ve laughed at Nathan’s hypocricy in regards to healthy relationships—who the fuck was he, of all people, to try and give advice on those?—if it weren’t for the irritation so quickly beginning to burn his blood. Was this guy really so blind to think that what he did to Elodie was normal? It concerned Calum if that was true; the reminder of what she had to endure in a relationship with someone like Nathan twisted Calum’s stomach in uneasy anger. No one deserved to be treated the way Nathan treated Elodie, and knowing that someone Calum was so quickly coming to care about had to go through that only further pissed him off. And to think that Nathan thought that Calum being with Elodie was something that had an expiration date on it, he was sorely mistaken. Calum didn’t plan on it, and he could only hope, though he may kind of know, that Elodie didn’t, either.

Calum could’ve easily been the bigger man and continued walking, ignoring Nathan and his taunts that didn’t effect Calum. But he also didn’t want Nathan walking away thinking his behavior and words were so easily done without him being put in his place. Calum wasn’t too keen on being given the responsibility of being the one to do so, but then Elodie’s face flashed in his mind; her brown eyes and soft hair and gentle smile and the kind tone she spoke in, and Calum didn’t mind anymore. He found himself realizing, as a smile threatened to quirk at his lips for no reason other than just thinking about Elodie, that he’d probably do anything for her already. He was fine with that.

Calum and Elodie weren’t codependent, not by a long shot; they were just getting to know each other, a journey they were both enjoying and didn’t want to end. So he wasn’t even going to acknowledge that part of Nathan’s empty taunt. Instead, he just turned around, catching Michael’s semi-amused huff, and tilted his chin at Nathan. “At least I’m not a controlling bastard like you.” With a cock of his head, Calum pushed smugly, “Isn’t that why your unhealthy relationship died?” Calum clicked his tongue in mock empathy. “Must be shit to not have control over someone and lose ’em.”

He saw the effect his words had on Nathan, who had proven to not being as good as Calum in keeping himself in check, as the snide smirk on his lips dissipated as his jaw clenched and gaze hardened, lips twitching into a frown he couldn’t contain. Even so, Calum couldn’t tell if Nathan was more bothered by the comment of him being controlling, or the reminder that Elodie ended their relationship.

Instead of lashing out, Nathan took a step towards Calum, a single click of the heel of his fancy ass dress shoes as Calum felt Michael tense up ever so slightly. But Nathan’s gaze remained on Calum, who kept his gaze on him evenly. Nathan’s green eyes were brimming with a familiar fire and his teeth gritted as he threatened in a low, taut tone, “She’s never going to love someone like you.”

It was almost amusing how Nathan thought that was for him to decide. Calum cared for no one’s opinion but Elodie’s, and he wasn’t going to let a selfish, bitter ex of hers influence his thoughts. Love was some ways away for now—but with Elodie, Calum had a feeling he was on the track, given just how fast and quickly he fell for her. And, shit, did he revel in it. So Calum’s dark eyes narrowed slightly but remained on Nathan’s green, hands that were still in the pockets of his leather jacket forming into tight fists as he returned assertively, just a hint of ridicule, “Are you speaking from experience?”

He was well aware that his words were fuel to an already brimming fire, and Calum picked up on the instant shift of Nathan’s expression, saw the severe temper Calum provoked darken his green eyes and the twitch of his lips threatening into a snarl. But Calum was unapologetic, didn’t care that he was reminding the bastard of how shitty his relationship was despite whatever delusion he’d put himself into. Calum was still unapologetic when Nathan pulled back his hand in one second and slammed the knuckles of his fist into the bone of Calum’s cheek.

There was an instant numbing sting that settled in Calum’s face, forced to stumble only a single step back from the force Nathan put behind the punch. Calum was more surprised by the power behind the hit than the actual hit itself, head turning by the punch as it shocked through his face. He was only barely aware of Michael’s protesting shout, didn’t care for the fact that they were on the sidewalk and a few people had looked over upon the violent action. All Calum could focus on was the sting on one side of his face, his own fury thrumming to life as he clenched his jaw, the action only causing a newfound ache, facing the right as his head had turned upon the punch. There were a couple of middle aged women who’d saw what just happened, completely forgetting that they were going to cross the street and instead watching with wide, incredulous eyes.

Calum’s lips parted, slowly dragging his gaze back to Nathan as he licked the inside of his lower lip in provoked acceptance that this was how it was going to be. He almost smirked when Nathan followed his actions with words unsteady because of barely contained anger, “She was lucky to have me. Now she’ll just go back to being absolutely nothing.”

Almost.

But then Nathan had to bring Elodie’s worth into it, something Calum understood neither he nor Nathan could live up to, and any pain of his cheek disappeared as Calum decided, in that split second, to not hold back.

There was no hope for Calum to remain unaffected by Nathan’s jeer, or his presumptuous attitude of being someone who made Elodie anything but unjustifiably insecure and timid, and he ignored Michael’s attempts of pulling him away. Calum felt his muscles tighten as his fingers curled into a fist, his blunt nails digging into his palms, lips curving into an animalistic snarl as he swung his own fist forward.

The first thing Calum noticed was the sharp pain in his fingers as his knuckles dug right into Nathan’s nose because he’d definitely broken it. The second thing Calum noticed was Michael’s startled, “Jesus, fuck!”. And the third thing Calum noticed as Nathan stumbled backwards, much more than Calum had, and Calum’s hand uncurled was the bit of blood that was now tainting his fingers and rings.

Nathan ended up on the ground, a shout of pain escaping him as he brought his hands up to his face, the crimson color painting his skin and dripping right down to stain his probably expensive suit. Calum stood over him, looking down at the bleeding man as his hand hung beside him, the adrenaline pumping through his veins fueled by a wrath he hadn’t known himself capable of numbing him to the pain he was probably going to feel soon in both his face and hand.

But he was aware of the eyes that were watching them, people minding their own business but observing the scene that had just unfolded, yet Calum kept his fiery gaze on Nathan, feeling Michael’s hand on his shoulder. Not an ounce of regret tainted Calum, the beat of his heart only racing due to the adrenaline stemming from the anger Nathan’s words brought. Calum’s jaw clenched, vaguely aware of the sting on his cheek because of the action, but he didn’t care. No fucking way was he going to let this bastard say shit about Elodie and allow him to walk away without repercussions.

“You fuck—” Nathan sputtered through a thick voice, words muffled and disgruntled by his hands holding his nose and the blood that was pouring from it, his eyes widened in pain and incredulity and infuriation as he looked up at them. Calum felt a swell of satisfaction at the sight of him; on his ass on the sidewalk, expensive looking suit getting stained with blood, and not at all looking as put together as he’d like to. “You broke my fucking nose!”

Calum briefly raised his eyebrows, features set and hardened, hyper aware of the warm blood on his own skin. “It was either that or your arm,” he responded briskly, reminding Nathan of his promise from Dominique’s birthday party, to which the fallen man sputtered out something incoherent. “I would’ve preferred both.”

Nathan pushed himself up, a smear of blood on the pavement as he used one hand to get to his feet. His other hand remained on his nose, the crimson blood visible through his fingers, and blonde hair disheveled from the fall. Green eyes enraged, Nathan demanded, “You think you can get away with putting your han—”

“It was self defense, asshole,” Michael spoke up, his own voice tight once he’d gotten over his brief surprise of how quickly things had escalated. “You punched him first and there are loads of witnesses to attest to that. Fucking try.”

Calum pressed the tip of his tongue against the back of his lower teeth, forcefully as he fought the sneer from curling at his lips again, feeling the muscles in his face subtly twitch in protest. This guy—this motherfucker who hurt Elodie with his words and treatment—deserved any kind of pain Calum may have just inflicted upon him. He deserved to feel any semblance of an ache like he caused Elodie, and Calum was more than willing to be the physical enforcer of it. He was proud of her for sticking up for herself, for getting herself out of the situation, but that didn’t mean Calum couldn’t offer his services.

Sure, he’d known her only for a short time but, shit, he’d do it for her.

Nathan fumbled incoherently once more, stupidly, trying and failing to find words to defend himself, to find the kind of words he’d utter to hurt Elodie and throw them in Calum’s face. Hell, if Nathan even tried, he was a bigger idiot than Calum already thought of him as.

So he left him with a simple and honest warning in a tone that left no room for niceties. “You try to talk shit ’bout Elodie again, and I’ll take a couple-a-teeth out, too.”

*****

The second the door to Calum’s apartment swung open, Elodie’s instinctual reaction was to look down at his dominant hand to visually inspect it. The air had rushed out of her lungs the second she’d received Dominique’s text earlier, praising Calum for punching Nathan so hard that he broke his nose, which was the first time Elodie had even heard about the incident. She’d been in her three hour film lecture, only receiving the texts once she was out of class, and had needed to stop walking to make sure she was reading Dominique’s text correctly.

Calum had punched Nathan. He’d broken his nose. And Elodie wasn’t entirely sure how she should feel that the first thought that popped into her head following the news wasn’t to be afraid of Calum, but was to be worried about his hand.

Because as well as Elodie thought she’d known Nathan for the years they grew up together and the months they were dating, it felt like nothing compared to how she was getting to know Calum. With him, nothing felt off limits, there were no egg shells to walk on, no temper to be uneasy around. If Calum punched Nathan, Elodie instinctively knew it was for a good reason. And it felt crazy to her, how easy it felt with Calum; unrestrained and comfortable and good. Maybe that’s why she wanted to see him right away. Because with Nathan, all she ever wanted to do when his temper flared was to get away.

So when the door opened, Elodie’s gaze flickered down to his hand briefly before her worried brown eyes met Calum’s surprisingly sheepish ones, feeling her chest swell happily at the mere sight of him until she took in the slight discoloration on his left cheek. Elodie’s lips parted at the bruise that bloomed on the swell of his cheek, chest sinking with the sharp breath that escaped her as the words, “Are you okay?” tumbled out of her mouth immediately.

She hadn’t been aware that Nathan had gotten a hit in, too. Not nearly as strong, but still. The sight of the injury twisted Elodie’s stomach—the knowledge of it being caused by her ex only worsened it.

But Calum, quickly becoming a light, only smiled through a breathless chuckle and reassured, “I’m fine, doll,” before ducking his head to press a quick kiss to her lips, Elodie’s mouth automatically puckering to accept the kiss before moving further into the apartment. Paws clattered across the floorboards and Calum smiled, as if he didn’t have a bruise on his face, and nodded, “Duke’s just as excited to see you.”

She picked up the dog just as he reached her, accepting and enjoying the kisses she was greeted with, with a smile on her face, though her concerned gaze remained on Calum as she watched him shut the door. Elodie mumbled a gentle, “Hi, buddy,” to Duke as she ran her fingers through his soft fur, his paws against her chest as her gaze dropped to Calum’s hand once more.

Duke wiggled out of her grasp and Elodie bent down enough for him to easily jump down, and her eyebrows knitted together as Calum tried to move past her but she stopped him, grabbing the material of his hoodie. He skidded to a stop as she maneuvered around him, her hand gently grasping his right wrist so she could lift up his hand and inspect it. Elodie’s throat tightened at the faint bruises formed on his knuckles, the color sticking out more than the glint of his rings, and the familiar uneasiness of guilt crept back into her stomach.

“Don’t worry—I didn’t break anythin’. Just iced it a bunch; the bruising will go away soon enough,” Calum told her, the reassurance ever present in his tone, and Elodie adored that he was trying to make her feel better even though he was the one who was physically injured. It only served as a reminder of how considerate Calum was, and it made falling for him that much lighter.

Elodie held his fingers in hers, her touch light as a feather out of fear of somehow irritating his bruise, and let her thumb run over the skin by his rings as she scoffed gently. “Didn’t break anything except for Nathan’s nose.” Was it wrong to feel a smile tug at her lips? She never wanted to be someone to smile at someone else’s expense, much less their pain. But knowing Calum was okay relieved some of the tension in her shoulders. Lifting her gaze, Elodie met Calum’s eyes and told him with only the tiniest bit of amusement coloring her tone, “I heard you got blood on his favorite Armani suit.”

Calum scoffed, lips quirking briefly as he looked down at Elodie holding his hand, ever so careful of touching his injury. With an almost childlike petulance, Calum countered, “He got blood on my favorite rings.”

Despite wanting to continue standing there and joking around lightheartedly, Elodie still felt the weight lingering on her shoulders, which sank when she let out a sigh and lamented, “I hate that this happened to you because of me.” Her throat worked as she eyed the bruise on his cheek, a reddish-purple color blossoming against the brown of his skin. “Do you need ice?”

“Elodie,” Calum was quick to speak up, removing his hand from her light grasp so he could place both of his hands at the sides of her face, fingers tangling into her brown locks and ducking his head to maintain eye contact. He had a habit of holding her like that, and Elodie adored it. His brown eyes were widened in encouragement, hoping she would hear his words loud and clear as he said, “This didn’t happen because of you. It happened because your ex is a dick and I’ve been known for being unable to keep my mouth shut.” His touch was warm, as always, and his words spread the same comfort his hands did as his thumb stroked her cheek. “And it was completely worth it.”

Still, Elodie found herself nibbling on her lower lip as she gazed at the bruise on his cheek and was hyper aware of his discolored knuckles as well. The heaviness in her chest wasn’t as suffocating, but it was still there as it dried her throat, and Elodie couldn’t bring herself to look Calum in the eyes anymore. Not through any fault of his own—she just had some things to work through as well, things ingrained into her by her selfish ex, and it was those same insecurities that had her whispering out, “Why is it when I’m in a relationship, someone ends up hurt?”

“Baby.” Elodie’s heart lodged itself in her throat as the term of endearment slipped from Calum’s lips, soft and raspy in his desperate voice. He’d never called her that before. She liked it. Calum gently tilted her head—more like gave it a nudge, trying to get her to do it on her own because he didn’t want to force her if she didn’t want to. But Elodie found herself lifting her gaze, lips pressing together as her eyes met Calum’s inviting brown ones. “Don’t mistake Nathan’s actions for your own. What you’ve done has allowed you to be yourself unapologetically. You’re out. You’re—”

“Happier,” Elodie finished quietly, feeling that weight lift from her shoulders with every word Calum spoke, no longer suffocating her. Her eyes remained on his as a smile tugged at her lips, hands slipping into the single front pocket of Calum’s hoodie to keep him close. Almost sheepishly, she decided to add, “Safer.”

Maybe it was too soon, maybe she was taking a leap, but that’s how she felt when she was around Calum—safe. Like being herself wasn’t something she actively had to hold back in worry of bothering him, because he liked who she was. He liked that her coffee order differed depending on the time of day she got it because she liked the inconsistency, he liked that at least one article of clothing she wore had to have some kind of floral design, he liked that she was only active on Instagram once a month to post an aesthetically pleasing picture she’d taken before closing the app until the next month arrived. It was all little things that were probably insignificant, but Calum liked them not out of his own personal preference—but because Elodie liked them in herself. And that meant more than Elodie could comprehend.

He let her be herself without fault in the near two months he’d known her than the six months she’d been with Nathan. Calum came into her life like storm and instead of wrecking it, he somehow managed to help clear a path so Elodie could fix it herself.

Elodie let out a breath, throat working as she said to him earnestly, albeit timidly, “I don’t mean to bring the mood down bringing up these. . . Insecurities.”

“You don’t ever bring the mood down, sweetheart,” came Calum’s genuine response, lips curling into the soft smile he had reserved just for her, the one that sent her heart leaping. “You make it worthwhile. C’mere.”

He pulled her in for a hug then, his embrace just as tender as his words as his arms wrapped around her frame, and Elodie pulled her hands out of Calum’s hoodie’s pocket to wrap them around his waist. She closed her eyes, cheek against the area just below his chest because God knows she can’t reach it, and lost herself in his familiar cologne and touch. Elodie felt Calum’s lips press to the top of her head before he rested his uninjured cheek against it, and she sank into his hug, into him, as his tranquility seeped into her bones.

Calum rubbed his hand up and down her back soothingly, the two of them standing in a tender silence, before he murmured, “Come on, dinner’s almost ready.”

Elodie smiled as they pulled away, and she shrugged off her coat before following him into the open plan kitchen. It was there where she saw a pot of pasta boiling on the stove, as well as the other ingredients sitting on the counter ready to be cooked. She followed Calum, a smile tugging at her lips when she noted the boneless and skinned chicken breasts, baby spinach, garlic, parmesan, and a bunch of other ingredients waiting to be prepped.

Her heart was thrumming happily in her chest, eyes alight at the sight before her as Calum picked up the bottle of red wine on the counter and poured some for Elodie and himself. “I thought you weren’t much of a wine drinker,” she hummed as she neared him, gladly taking the glass he offered her. She remembered one of the many conversations they had as they got to know each other, found out that he preferred some good whiskey or maybe even a beer to wine.

“I am around you,” he responded with a smirk, and Elodie giggled lightly as he clinked his glass with hers before the two of them took sips of the bittersweet drink. She smiled around the rim of the glass as Calum shot her a wink over his, before lowering his and moving to go back to the other counter where the stove is. “’M making us some Tuscan chicken and spinach pasta.”

“Sounds delicious,” Elodie hummed, glass still in hand as she moved towards him, leaning against the counter but making sure she didn’t get in his way as she asked, “Can I help?”

There wasn’t much he needed for her to do, so Elodie just stood by Calum and sipped her wine as he worked—eventually he cleared some space on the counter so she could hop up, and Elodie crossed her ankles as she watched him make dinner. There was music softly playing throughout the apartment, songs similar to those she heard in the tattoo parlor, and Elodie gently swayed her head to the music and drank her wine and made conversation with the first man to ever actually make her food.

She may have snapped a picture of Calum cooking the seasons chicken, his gaze on the skillet while an amused grin quirked at his lips, aware of what she was doing. But Elodie couldn’t help it—he looked so at ease as he made the food, which had been his idea in the first place. He was the one who’d invited Elodie over to his place, told her he’d make them dinner and they could hang out, and she recalled the way her heart had melted when he offered to cook. The mere fact that he could and liked to cook was enough to have Elodie rushing over. Nevermind the fact that she loved spending time with him anyway.

They made light conversation; she talked about what she was learning in her lectures plus the new charities she brought up to her family for their foundation to support, while he disclosed the tattoos he’d just done plus a few sketches that he drew. It slipped Elodie’s mind that as a tattoo artist, Calum was also an artist, that many of the tattoos he gave his clients were ones they’d picked from his own designs. She wondered if any of the ones he had were of his own making, still wanted to sit down and ask him about every single one of the words and images inking his skin.

“I wish I was good at something,” Elodie sighed after taking another sip of the wine. She was already a glass and a half in, and it was safe to say she was beginning to feel the lightheadedness that came with drinking it. Her skin was beginning to feel warm, a happy flush on her cheeks, as she pouted. Calum had put the pasta in a big bowl and was mixing in the chicken and spinach and everything else. He quirked an eyebrow at the slight drawl her words were adopting. “All I do is go to school and cry.”

Calum knew he shouldn’t laugh, but he couldn’t help the amused chortle escape him as he glanced over at Elodie with raised eyebrows, the fondness he felt for her warming his heart as he continued tossing the pasta. “You know that’s not true, doll,” he told her knowingly. “You’re good at working your family’s foundation. Aren’t you the one that researches and brings in the charities and organizations you guys support?”

“Well, yeah.” Elodie’s eyebrows furrowed almost childishly, a small pout forming on her lips that Calum felt the urge to kiss. He finished with the pasta, hot and ready to eat, as he took the two steps to the other side of the stove where Elodie sat. She looked up at him, and he noticed the slight glaze over her eyes. “But I feel like I could be doing more.”

“You’re already doing more than most,” Calum told her, coming to a stop in front of her and feeling a smirk curve his lips as Elodie automatically unlocked her ankles and spread her legs just enough for him to step into the space they created. Calum braced his hands on the cool marble counter on either side of her thighs, careful of his bruised knuckles, and enjoyed the scent of her floral perfume that briefly overpowered the food he’d cooked. But Calum focused on her, and the hints of doubt seeping into Elodie in regards to her worth, and he was bitterly reminded of what Nathan had said. Calum wasn’t going to let any spiteful thing that bastard said come true in any way, so he quickly derailed that train of thought in Elodie’s mind. “You, my darling, are better than most people I’ve met. That’s a fact.”

Her cheeks pinkened more than they already were, and Elodie felt her heart flutter happily in her chest. Every time Calum complimented her, she felt the air rushing out of her lungs, incredulous that his words made her feel ten times lighter than how awfully Nathan’s words impacted her. Elodie rested her nearly empty wine glass on the counter, hand coming up to cup Calum’s uninjured jaw and feeling his warm skin under her touch as she told him, honestly and genuinely, “You’re too good to me. That’s a fact.”

“Baby,” Calum breathed, raspy and shiver inducing as he brushed his nose against hers. There it was, that sweet little term that had butterflies exploding in her belly. Calum’s gaze was on hers, never afraid to look her in the eye, as he said, “You’re too good for me. That’s a fact.”

Elodie’s heart jumped, eyes dropping to his lips, just inches away from hers. She barely gave a shake of her head. “Nope.” And then closed the gap to capture his lips with hers.

Calum welcomed the kiss wholeheartedly, a throaty hum sounding in his throat as he moved his lips with Elodie’s and briefly gripped her hips before sliding his hands lower to bury them in the back pockets of her jeans. Elodie felt him pull her closer with his new grip, her lips parting when his tongue trailed across her lower lip, deepening the kiss as the taste of wine remained present on both of them. Her heart drummed in her chest as her own hands slid under Calum’s sweatshirt, his lack of shirt underneath allowing her hands to run along his smooth, warm skin, her touch instinctively causing Calum to give her a cheeky squeeze.

There was dinner waiting for them, Elodie knew that, was excited to take a bite of what Calum had made for them, but Elodie was enjoying the feel and taste of Calum’s lips and how warm he felt against her. She couldn’t help the way she dragged her nails down the length of his back, felt an uncharacteristic smirk tilt at her lips against Calum’s when he deepened the kiss with a deep moan that Elodie swore vibrated through her. He sounded as good as he felt.

Calum leaned into her and Elodie’s heart picked up even more, pounding in her ears because this closeness wasn’t enough; she needed more, craved it, wanting nothing in between them as her lips felt electric against his. Everything else began slipping away, her focus only being on the man who was kissing her like it was the last thing he’d get to do, yet still Elodie tried against her better judgement, “The food’ll get cold.”

Her words were mumbled against Calum’s mouth, and he merely grunted as his hands slipped out of her pockets only to grip the backs of her thighs, giving Elodie no warning as he lifted her. She let out a startled gasp, both at the action and the trickle of worry of his injured hand, but Calum’s teeth grazing her lower lip easily distracted her as she locked her ankles at his lower back and wrapped her arms around his neck as Calum said gruffly, “We’ll reheat it.”

Elodie wasn’t entirely sure how, she was too lost in the way her legs were hooked so perfectly around Calum and how he kissed her so fiercely, like he was putting everything into it, but they eventually ended up in a different room. She barely registered the sound of Calum kicking a door shut, eyes closed to completely savor the taste of his lips, kissing off the wine he’d also drank as Calum sank down until he was sitting on the edge of the bed. Hands returning to the hem of Calum’s sweatshirt, Elodie gripped it and pulled it upwards, the material offending and distancing, their kiss breaking only for a moment as she tugged it over his head and let out a breathless giggle when Calum’s one hand reached the back of it to take it all the way off and dropped it on the floor, lips returning to hers urgently.

Her heart thundered as they kissed, his stubble scratching her deliciously as she ran her hands from his neck down his chest, feeling the smoothness of his warm skin and the brief chill of the necklace that he seemingly never left the house without. The need to feel close to him was desperate, and Elodie was quickly losing herself into Calum as she used her nimble fingers to undo the buttons of her blouse, Calum’s hands gripping her hips as she shrugged off the cotton material. Calum’s hands slid up, feeling her bare warm skin, the kiss breaking to allow them to catch their breaths as his gaze dropped.

Their chests heaved in time with their quickened hearts, foreheads and noses pressed together and lips electric as Calum’s gaze dropped to Elodie’s newly exposed skin, throat drying at the sight of her in just a bra and jeans. The quiet of the room was interrupted only by their heavy breaths, and as Elodie’s right hand placed itself on the back of his neck, fingers playing with the growing dark hair, her other dancing along the necklace resting against his tattooed collarbones, she felt the warmth of his hands spread through her body.

Calum ran his hands up and down the smooth skin of her back, the tips of his fingers grazing the band of her bra, and his voice was hoarse as he whispered, “El, are you sure?”

She felt the corners of her lips quirk up, felt the electricity thrumming her veins and the obvious desire of how badly Calum wanted to keep going as she remained straddling his lap, and Elodie decided she didn’t want to shy away from this. From Calum. He never gave her a reason to, so she wouldn’t.

Elodie brushed her lips against Calum’s kissed ones, cheeks warming when he tilted his chin forward to kiss her properly. “Only if you are.”

And then she grinded her hips down on him, a gesture neither of them had been expecting, and Calum’s grip on her tightened, uncaring of his bruised knuckles, as he cursed through gritted teeth, “Fuck.”

She was killing him, he knew, as she pulled him in for another kiss before breaking away too soon. Calum groaned at the loss, eyes opening as he felt Elodie get off of him. He looked up at her, feeling a haze of adoration as he watched her with her long hair falling over shoulders, a not-so-innocent smile playing at her kiss pinkened lips, eyes on him as her fingers worked on the button and zipper of her jeans. Calum’s throat tightened as she kicked the jeans off, only a pretty lingerie set adorning her body that Calum couldn’t wait to take off.

The pout she sent his way nearly had Calum falling to his knees, her long hair falling around her shoulders as she gestured at him with a finger. “You’re wearing too many clothes,” Elodie said, her voice holding her usual sweet lilt, though Calum wasn’t deaf to the playful glimmer in her dark eyes. She continued to surprise him.

He smirked through a chuckle, pulling his lower lip into his mouth while his gaze remained on his girl, watching her watch him as he took off his sweatpants, the smirk wiping off his face when Elodie settled on her knees in the space between his legs and her gentle touch wrapped around his cock.

Calum’s hooded gaze was watching Elodie, feeling his heart in his throat as she closed her mouth around him, and he was in fucking heaven. His uninjured hand, braced behind him, tightened the bed sheets into a fist while the other easily gathered Elodie’s hair behind her head, his own lips parting at the sight of hers around him. The sensation of her hand working what she couldn’t fit in her warm mouth, nails of the other teasingly dragging along the top of his thigh as she worked him over.

“Shit.” It was all he was capable of breathing out, voice ragged and unsteady, the need to throw his head back and get lost in Elodie’s treatment of him heavy, but Calum didn’t want to take his eyes off of her. His fingers tangled in her soft hair, the blood rushing through his veins and thundering heart accompanying the fire spreading throughout his body.

The sight of Elodie on her knees before him was filthy, gorgeous, unexpected and perfect in every way. Calum could feel just how quickly she was pulling him to the edge, her mouth generous and dizzyingly pleasurable. But as pretty as she was before him, Calum knew he was going to come undone if she continued her ministrations, and he wanted to let go for the first time inside of her—not in her mouth.

“What?” Elodie pouted when Calum pulled her up, the loss of her making him grunt as his hands grasped her hips. She let out a startled sound amidst a giggle as Calum used his grip on her to turn them so she fell back onto the bed, Calum immediately sliding his body on top of hers as his lips pressed against hers urgently. He felt her melt under him, her hands running up the expanse of his back before her fingers found his short hair, keeping him close. Calum’s own hand snuck underneath her to unclasp her bra, ignoring the mild sting of his injured fingers at the action as Elodie lowered her arms briefly to slide off the straps before the offending material was gone.

He felt her breasts press against his chest, soft and supple on his warm skin as he kissed her, losing himself in her. Hastily, though not entirely sure how, Calum reached over to his bedside drawer, blindly pulling it open and rummaging around, lips still moving against Elodie’s, until his fingers finally grasped the foil package he’d been searching for.

There was an overwhelming, breathless desire to have her close to him, closer than she already was; to have her against him in all the right ways because it already felt so natural, so good, to be with her like this. The urgency of his kisses slowed, savoring the taste of her chapstick and the wine dancing on both of their tongues as he committed every bit of her to memory while tearing open the packet, ignoring the twinge in his bruised knuckles at the action. God. The last thing he thought was he’d be doing this with Elodie, finally, with a few bruises painting his skin.

She’d taken her underwear off during the moments of Calum rolling on the condom, hissing slightly at the latex against him, forehead pressed to Elodie’s as their heavy breathing became the soundtrack of their anticipation. His gaze lowered, lining himself up to where she needed him most, and in the midst of their excited breathing and hazy heads, Calum’s eyes met Elodie’s once more.

He looked at her, hovering over her as he took in the pretty flush of her cheeks, the already blissed out look in her eyes and lips pink and kissed. Calum’s heart was erratic within his chest, taking her in as he, in that moment, couldn’t help but think how lucky he was. His disbelief and overwhelm could be heard in his heavy breaths, could see Elodie’s own excitement in the rise and fall of her chest and tension of her neck, the diamond pendant of her necklace settled right between her collarbones. She was breathtaking, and Calum was so fucking lucky.

He couldn’t help himself by pressing his lips to hers once more, a slow and lasting kiss that had Elodie’s grip on the back of his neck tightening, wanting him close. Calum lined himself up to her, about to break the kiss just so he could hear her approval, only to be beaten to the punch as Elodie begged against his lips, “Please.”

His hips thrust forward, the sensation of him burying herself in her leaving both of them gasping for air, Elodie clinging to him and Calum groaning into the crook of her neck, feeling the subtle sting of his bruise, though it barely registered. Elodie wrapped her legs around his hips, and Calum’s hand gripped her thigh, uncaring of the strain on his fingers. Nothing mattered except for Elodie. As if there was anything else on his mind.

He started off slow, pulling out before burying himself to the hilt once more, feeling and hearing Elodie’s breath hitch at the sensation of him filling her up, his free arm next to her to keep himself above her. It was a symphony of his grunts and her breathless moans and skin slapping against skin and utterly losing themselves in one another. His motions were fluid and she received him completely, and Calum couldn’t keep himself from marking up her neck as he felt her nails digging into his back.

He could feel himself quickly reaching his high, but Calum fought himself, refusing to come undone until Elodie did first, no matter how difficult it felt after her mouth had worked him over. Praises fell past his lips, effortless in her worship, everything about her continuing to draw him closer and closer to the edge.

And when they lay in bed after the fact, utterly spent as they tried to catch their breaths with only one of his bedsheets covering them, there was a mutual, silent understanding between them that this was. . . Perfect. That laying in bed, warm bodies bare and pressed together under the sheet, with her head laying on his chest and his arm wrapped around her, was a flawless and blissful image they both had yearned for.

Elodie’s fingers danced with his, gaze on the way she gently turned his hand to look at the mild discoloration of his knuckles. The reminder that he was injured, no matter how insignificant Calum paints it to be, because of someone in her life still ate away at Elodie. But she’d be lying if she said there wasn’t a prickle of satisfaction, of adoration, that he wasn’t afraid of standing up for her. He defended her so easily when it took her so long to do so herself, and Elodie liked to think it was her having a wake up call of her own mixed in with a bit of courage from Calum himself that allowed her to be in the position she was in today. She counted herself so lucky that she went to the tattoo parlor with Dominique that day.

“I’m alright, y’know.” Calum’s voice was a low rasp from above her, and Elodie could feel the vibration of him speaking as her head remained against his chest. The way she was caressing his knuckles probably prompted him to speak up. “Doesn’t hurt or anythin’.”

Elodie bit her lower lip, which kind of still tingled from his dizzying kisses. As their fingers gently laced together, she surmised, “You’re just saying that so I won’t feel bad.”

“Hey.” There was a soft disapproving tone in his voice, hand snaking around her to tilt her chin up. Her dark eyes met his after briefly eyeing the bruise on his cheek, and there was a subtle crease between his eyebrows as he said, “I wouldn’t lie to you. And there’s nothing for you to feel bad about. He’s an ass and if I could break his nose again, I would.”

Elodie couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped her at Nathan’s expense, the sound quirking up Calum’s lips as well as Elodie looked at him. His lips were as kissed as hers, a pretty flush on his cheeks that she knew was warming her own, and there was a contentment present in her chest that she only ever felt around him. It was enough to push all thoughts of her ex out of her head, irritated with herself for even having a single thought about him. The mere mention of him was a disservice to herself and Calum and the relationship they’d come to have.

So she sat up, pressing the sheet to her chest with one hand, Calum’s arm falling from around her shoulders as he looked at her now seated figure with raised eyebrows. “Come on—” she smiled, grabbing his hand. “I wanna try the pasta.”

Calum chuckled deeply, not one to say no as he followed her off the bed. He put his sweatpants back on as Elodie pulled up her underwear, taking Calum’s hoodie as he offered it to her before following him back into the kitchen. Duke raised his head from where he was on the couch, jumping off as his paws clattered on the floor and followed them as they helped themselves to the dinner Calum had made, needing to heat it up just like he’d said after he poured Duke his food as well.

They ended up on the couch, flickering the TV on with warm plates in their laps with The Office keeping them entertained. And as they watched and ate, Elodie couldn’t help but let her gaze wander to the man sitting on the other end of the couch, his feet propped up on the coffee table. Her fork absently played with the pasta on her plate, too distracted by Calum; she felt her heart flutter in her chest, tickling, as she admired the way he laughed at the show, enough to push his cheeks up, uncaring of his bruise, and show off the crinkles by his eyes. He sat shirtless, tattoos on full display, bicep looking a bit too inviting as he held the plate with his left hand above his lap.

Just sitting here brought Elodie a sense of tranquility she’d never felt before, a warmth spreading across her skin as she took in a quiet breath. It was thrilling, how happy he made her, so easily and effortlessly. No wonder she was so willing to accept just how quickly she’d fallen in love with him.

tags: @irwinkitten @sweetcherrymike @meetashthere @valentinelrh @softforcal @astroashtonio @hereforlukescruff @novacanecalum @captain-what-is-going-on @angelbbycal @singt0mecalum @hopelessxcynic @lfwallscouldtalk @bodhi-black @findingliam-o @softlrh @calntynes @calumsmermaid @erikamarie41 @quintodosuniversos @longlastingdaydream @babylon-corgis @lukehemmingsunflower @imfuckin10plybud @pastelpapermoons @conquerwhatliesahead92 @rotten-kandy @metangi @neigcthood @ohhmuke @old-zeppelin-shirt @5sos-and-hessa @trustmeimawhalebiologist @vxlentinecal @pettybassists @vaporshawn @lu-my-golden-boi @visualm3nte @isabella-mae13 @dontjinx-it @lifeakaharry @neonweeknds @antisocialbandmate @ixcantxdecidexwhosxmyxfave @calpalbby @grreatgooglymoogly @sunnysidesblog @gorgeouslygrace @cocktail-calum @miahelizaaabeth @madelynerin @dramallamawithsparkles @theagenderwhocriedwolf @kaytiebug14 @hoodskillerqueen @bitchinbabylon @empathycth @xhaileyreneex @inlovehoodx @calistheloml @aestheticrelated @bloodlinecal @sublimehood @madbomb @raabiac @britnicole11 @outofmylimitcal @fluffsshawn @bloodmoonashton @vxidhood @tea4sykes @lukeinblue

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choruscas · 4 years

Text

suptober day 10: sweet rides

please let me know if you’d like to be added to my tag list! (or removed if you prefer) it tags you in all my short stories like these so you never miss them!

(THERE WILL BE A PART TWO TO THIS! ONCE IT’S OUT, I’LL EDIT THIS ONE AND LINK TO THE SECOND PART ONCE IT’S FINISHED!)

also, sorry that you’re seeing the earlier days in your feeds! i forgot my writing ipad when i went on vacation this weekend, so I’ve been trying to make up the days i missed! i should catch up soon, i’ve just been incredibly busy!

October 10th, 1890 - Lawrence, Kansas

Castiel drew his breath in as the cold air of fall hit his face. He looked around the town, seeing no signs of anybody out.

Most of them were probably in saloons or shops of some sort, drinking their sorrows away with cheap whiskey and tapping all their fortunes out with gambling.

He had lived in this town his whole life, but downtown he has only recently grown familiar with it.

Two months ago, his parents disappeared from him. And the rest of his family either moved away from Lawrence or were arrested for felony and murder charges. Castiel wasn’t like that. Being the youngest in the Novak family was hard, but he managed. He was the last of the Novak’s and he never made any promises to carry the family name, since he wasn’t interested in women of any kind.

So he wouldn’t. Once he drew his dying and final breath, the Novak’s would be no more.

However, in the meantime, he could make fault of his name. He wasn’t the proudest of being a Novak, but like previously said, he managed.

Walking through the dirt roads, marked with horses hooves and wagon’s wheels after years of use, Castiel found himself at the Roadhouse, like he did every Friday night.

He enjoyed the company there, and the beer was cheap but it was decent. He wasn’t much of a drinker, as his mom had drank her heart out all his life, but alcohol was the norm, so he occasionally had a beer or two.

He went inside, pushing the doors forward to be greeted by Ellen Harvelle, the Roadhouse��s proud owner. She was serving a man, who Castiel had never seen before, with big ears and a long nose.

“Hello Ellen. Is Jo working tonight?” he smiled at her while approaching the counter. Jo Harvelle was younger and was also Ellen’s only daughter.

“Nah.” She shook her head. “She’s got studyin’ so she’s workin’ on that upstairs.”

Castiel nodded and looked around the room, there were the usuals that were normally around, like Bobby Singer with his friend Rufus Turner, Meg Masters (a devil in disguise, ask anybody) and...

Dean Winchester.

Town’s heartthrob. And Castiel would never admittedly say this, but also the only man Castiel had currently sought out for.

About a month ago, Dean’s father had died and so him and his brother moved all the way from Sioux Falls, South Dakota, to Lawrence. He became a regular and were familiar with some of the townspeople, since he had lived there until he was four. His mother had died in the paper’s fire at their house, and so they moved across the country. Since the town was celebrating its thirty-sixth anniversary soon, it meant that the town was still young, and so was Dean. John Winchester — thy boys’ father, was a state-famous cowboy, which gave Dean and his brother Sam a good name.

However, Castiel’s has barely usurped a full-on conversation with the man. Castiel was fairly confident, but pretty boys like Dean made his throat close up. Normally their conversations were around five minutes long, until some girl comes and ushers him away.

Although Castiel has never heard that Dean has gotten lucky with any of the women in the town. Maybe he kept it a secret, or maybe he wasn’t interested in sex. With a body like his, Castiel was surprised he didn’t. He could do so very easily, with anybody in the town who was willing.

“Hey, Cas!” Dean called out, waving a large arm up in the sky. Next to him was who he thinks was his younger brother, with shaggy hair and a lanky body, Sam Winchester.

Assuming Dean’s gesture was meant to usher him over, Castiel got up from his stool and walked over, taking off his black cowboy hat and placing it on the pool table once he got to his destination. Dean tipped his Stetson in greeting and flashed a toothy smile to Castiel, causing his cheeks to heat up.

“You here for a beer, angel?” Dean asked.

That was new.

“Uhm, yes. Like I normally am.” Castiel replied solemnly, a little bit skeptical since Dean was being extra flashy today.

Perhaps it was because Sam was around.

“Well,” he started. “I’d like ya to meet Sammy, my lil’ brother. Sammy, Castiel. Castiel, Sammy.”

Castiel nodded. “Nice to meet you, Sam.”

The younger brother stuck his arm out, signaling a handshake. It was firm, despite his young age. “You too.”

Dean gave his brother a grin and a wink and Sam had almost immediately left to go to the counter, instantly striking up a conversation with Ellen.

Odd.

“So, have you heard about Lucifer?” The question just popped up out of the blue. Dean was leaning on his cue pole, his hands over the top and his chin resting on his knuckles.

Castiel quirked his head and furrowed his eyebrows.

“The murderer, guy got his face on the wanted posters ‘bout two months ago. People are sayin’ he murdered two people and some animals or somethin’. I don’t gossip like some people do here but it’s somethin’ I’ve heard goin’ ‘round.”

He licked his lips. He hasn’t seen any wanted posters of any kind, so either he was blind or oblivious to his surroundings. Hopefully the latter.

“I haven’t. Is his real name Lucifer?” Castiel asked, now engaged in the conversation, curious.

“Naw, Lucas or somethin’. Lucas... Shurley, I’m pretty sure.” He bit his lip, stuffing his hands in his jean pockets.

Fuck.

“Lucas Shurley? I...” Castiel’s mouth went dry and the world suddenly got dizzy. “I need to sit down— o-or leave... I—“

Dean put down his cue stick, and it clattered to the ground. He gracefully swept over to where Castiel started leaning over the pool table. He put his hands on his back and laced his fingers with his to support him up.

“Cas?” His voice was soft, like of those of a kitten. “Hey... hey, man. Are you alright?”

“I have to go home—“ Castiel started, his stomach feeling like thousands of volcanic ruptures.

“I’ll take ya, man. How far do you live?”

Castiel looked up to face Dean. “About— about two miles up north. You... I can walk.”

“Walk? No. Where’s your horse?”

“Don’t have one anymore. Horse disappeared along with my parents.” Castiel said like it was nothing.

In all honesty, he didn’t believe it was nothing. He just didn’t want to worry Dean.

It was everything. Chuck and Naomi Novak were his favorite people in the world. Sure, the both of them smoked their lungs dry but without them, Castiel would be a goner. They’ve saved him, fixed him, in more ways and times than he could count.

“I’ll take ya, Baby can fit two.”

“Baby?”

“My black mare. God, she’s a beaut. Love o’ my life.” Dean smiled with pride.

Castiel nodded. That’s how Lincoln was to Castiel and his family. He was a very obedient crime colored horse, and he was very fond of him. However, after his parents disappearance, Lincoln had gone with them. Over and over Castiel theorized where they could’ve gone, but nothing of the sorts came to mind. They’ve always sort of stayed around Lawrence. Never the adventurous type, which was why their disappearance was odd.

Baby was a very comfortable horse, but it was even more comfortable to wrap his hands around Dean’s waist, feeling the rise and fall of his breath against his body. His chest was touching his back and Dean talked to him as Baby slowly rode ahead. Dean had reassured Castiel that since he didn’t feel well, Baby wouldn’t go as fast as she normally would’ve.

Hiding his blush in the night sky, Castiel’s eyes were weary and droopy. He never even got the time to get a beer, nor talk to anyone else. His trip was cut short. However, so was Dean’s.

“Sammy’s a genius, I’m tellin’ ya.” Dean filled the empty silence with something to talk about. “Been studyin’ to go to this new college called Stanford. ‘Bout five years old, fairly new. It’s all the way in California, poor guy.”

Castiel didn’t respond, but Dean could feel the nod of his body against him.

“You got any siblings?” Dean genuinely asked, cocking his head back to meet eye to eye with Castiel. Dean seemed like a good horseback, so he trusted him.

Castiel thinned his lips. “Yes... two. They don’t live around here anymore. Older brothers... uhm, Michael and Gabriel and-“

He stopped himself.

“And what?” Worry sort of filled Dean’s voice.

“I also have an older half brother... but I don’t talk to him. He sort of made my life a living hell growing up.”

“‘M sorry to hear that, Cas.”

Baby stopped in her tracks slowly, and Dean eyed Castiel’s cottage. It was on the outskirts of town, and the wooden place wasn’t the biggest, but it managed. He was proud of it. It’s been there since Lawrence founded in ‘64 and he wasn’t planning on demolishing it anytime soon.

Dean hopped off of Baby and grabbed Castiel’s hand to help him. The sickness started riling back in his gut and he walked to his front door quickly.

The wooden patio could barely hold one person without creaking in vain, crying out because of the heavy steps heaving on it. Let alone two. However, Castiel couldn’t tempt away from the green eyes and peppered freckles face with a smile he’s grown so fond of since Dean moved back.

Dean took off his hat and placed it on his chest, his fingers curling around the crease and pinch of it. He looked down.

“I just realized ya forgot your hat at the Roadhouse.” Dean chuckled, his laugh music to Castiel’s ears. “Could I stop by tomorrow afternoon ‘n give it to ya? I promise I won’t mess wit’ it.”

Castiel nodded, his face becoming red. “Thank you, Dean.” He paused, then he furrowed his eyebrows and cocked his head to the side. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

Dean simply blinked and didn’t hesitate. “Because you made me realize that angel’s were real.”

They said their goodbyes and Castiel laid on his bed, first taking off all his clothing except for his undergarments. His sheets were cold with lack of use, as it has been a while since he’s used them.

Thoughts of Dean and his freckled body filled Castiel’s head. The imagery of his cock in Dean’s soft ass pumped his heart and he bit he lip, to try and attempt himself from getting hard. He had nothing but his hand to relieve himself, so he couldn’t tonight.

However, if he got lucky with Dean, he would be a sweet ride indeed.

(tags below)

@potato-painter

#suptober #suptober20 #day 10 #day 10: sweet rides #sweet rides #destiel #deancas #supernatural #spn #cowboy!dean #cowboy!castiel #cowboy!au #cowboy!deancas

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maluminspace · 5 years

Text

You’re A Soft Touch

Genre: parent!malum fluff

Pairings: Michael Clifford/Calum Hood

Word Count: 1768

Requested: by my sweet lil Vicky @myfalsedevotion for spooky!sos2019

Trigger Warnings: n/a

A/N: I love writing these two as sappy husbands and dads! I hope you all enjoy it 💕

Even when the heavens had decided to open mid-way through the walk home from school, Michael’s spirits were still high. He’d always loved Halloween and his enthusiasm had luckily been inherited by both of his children.

Tama giggled as he jumped into every puddle he came across. Unfortunately he didn’t let go of Michael’s hand at any point so the young father’s jeans were already soaked through. He didn’t care one bit, though.

“When can we go trick or treating, daddy?” Bonnie asked, her bright brown eyes peaking up at Michael from beneath the bright red hood of her raincoat. She looked particularly cute in her bright raincoat and rainbow coloured wellies.

“Later, sweetheart.” The blonde man replied. “I have a surprise for you at home, first.”

Both children grinned widely. “Ooh what is it?” Tama asked, finally taking a break from splashing in puddles.

“You’ll have to wait and see, precious!” Michael replied, “Your dad’s making sure it’s all ready for when we get home.”

Both of the twins squealed with excitement and Michael couldn’t stop the biggest smile from curling his lips.

The rest of the walk home passed by quickly as they discussed school and which of their neighbours the children thought would have the best sweets for trick or treating.

When they finally reached their cozy little house, the twins ran up the driveway, yelling for their other father to reveal their surprise.

Michael laughed to himself as he took off his coat and boots. The house was so warm and smelt of home cooking. Calum must have started dinner already.

“Woah there, you two!” Calum yelled from somewhere deeper inside the house. “You can see the surprise when you’ve taken off your wet clothes and helped your dad feed the kittens!”

There was a flurry of whining before the two children plodded back into the hallway. “Dad said we have to help you feed the kitties before we can have our surprise.” Tama pouted, kicking off his bright red wellies and shrugging off his blue raincoat.

Michael chuckled softly. “Let’s get you into some clean, dry clothes first, yeah?”

Bonnie was also shuffling out of her own raincoat when Calum appeared in the hallway to help with the post-school operation. “Can we change into our costumes?” The little girl asked, glancing between both of her fathers, her chocolate brown eyes sparkling with hope.

“Fine...” Calum replied, “let me know if you need some help putting them on okay?”

The twins giggled excitedly as they scurried upstairs and out of sight.

“You’re a soft touch, daddy Cal.” Michael smirked. “You say it’s always me that gives into them, but I think we’ve seen enough proof that you’re just as bad.”

“Oh yeah?” Calum snarled playfully, backing Michael up against the wall. “I think you’ll find you’re still the worst, actually. Maybe someone needs a bit of a Halloween spanking to remind them who’s the boss?” He insisted, pinning Michael’s hips to the wall as he allowed his lips to brush the blonde’s stubbled jawline.

“Calum...” Michael whined. “You can’t do this to me now, the kids will be back down in a minute.”

“Oh, I know.” Calum replied, his voice low and gravelly as his breath ghosted over Michael’s ear teasingly. “The wait will be all part of your punishment.”

Michael groaned needily. “Calum!” He gasped. “You can’t do this to me, it’s been weeks since we had time to... y’know...”

Calum giggled, pulling back from his husband before heading back down the hallway. “Well hopefully this will give you an incentive to get the kids to bed on time, for once.” He shrugged, glancing back to aim a wink at Michael over his shoulder before disappearing into the kitchen.

The older man had barely had chance to recover before Bonnie and Tama were scampering along the landing and down the stairs. They both had beaming smiles on their faces as they yelled for Michael to look at their costumes.

When asked what they’d like to dress up as, both of the five year olds had asked if the whole family could be pirates. Michael and Calum had agreed, happy that their ideas hadn’t been too outlandish this year.

To make sure that their costumes stood out amongst the crowds, the dedicated fathers had made each of the four pirate costumes themselves. They’d mostly used old clothing and distressed them using scissors and marker pens.

Of course, Michael had the bright idea of letting the kids make some of the design decisions for their own outfits. This had resulted in Bonnie requesting that almost every inch of her baggy, torn t-shirt be filled with a drawing of a skull and crossbone. Her outfit was completed by a little hat and the biggest sword she could find in the costume shop.

Tama had opted for a stripped t-shirt and bandanna. He’d decided to go for style over size regarding his sword which was much smaller than Bonnie’s but the handle was far more ornate.

“Wow!” Michael grinned proudly. “You look incredible!” He beamed. “Why don’t we go and show your dad, huh?”

The words had barely left the blonde’s mouth before the five year olds had sped off into the kitchen. Michael followed them, still beaming happily. By the time he reached the kitchen, Calum was already grinning from ear to ear. “I can’t wait to get pictures of us all when me and your dad are all dressed up too!” He said, giving each of the twins a huge hug.

The children squealed as they jumped up and down asking when they could have their surprise.

“We need to feed the cats first, remember?” Michael asked ushering the excited twins over to the little food bowls in the corner of the room. He grabbed the box of cat biscuits from the shelf they were kept on and handed it to Bonnie. “Why don’t you fill up Smudge’s bowl and then Tama can fill up Socks’s one, okay? I’ll fill their water bowls.”

The twins nodded and set about their task as Michael picked up the little ceramic water bowls and carried them over to the sink. As he rinsed and filled the bowl he was aware of Calum watching him and he felt his cheeks heat up under his husband’s gaze. “Why’re you staring?” He giggled, meeting Calum’s eye briefly.

“Just deciding what I’m gonna do with you later.” The younger man replied with a smirk, keeping his voice low enough that the children wouldn’t hear.

Michael bit his bottom lip between his teeth but otherwise didn’t acknowledge the comment. He had some parenting to do before he could get ravaged by his husband.

“We’re done!” Tama announced, holding up the cat biscuits towards his fathers. “Can we have our surprise now?”

Calum smirked at Michael suggestively - silently promising a good night later, before he crossed the room and took the cat biscuits from his son to store them back in the shelf. “Sure, buddy. It’s in the dining room. Don’t touch anything until we get there, though, okay? We’ll be there in just a second.”

Tama and Bonnie grinned widely before scampering off into the hallway without a second glance.

“You’re such a tease.” Michael pouted as soon as the twins were out of earshot. “I can’t wait for later...”

“Well you’ll have to.” Calum shrugged. “We have some serious pumpkin carving and trick or treating to do before I can focus all of my attention on you.” He made sure that his fingers brushed the back of Michael’s hand as he walked past.

“I‘ll hold you to that last part...” Michael grinned, feeling like an excited teenager at the prospect of sex.

The husbands made their way into the dining room to find the twins waiting impatiently by the table Calum had set up earlier. It had four pumpkins laid out on it along with the tools to carve them.

“I’m gonna make mine look like a cat’s face!” Bonnie announced, pointing at the smallest pumpkin of the bunch.

“I want mine to look like a ghost!” Tama added as he shuffled onto one of the chairs.

Calum placed a brief kiss to Michael’s cheek before taking his place at the table before confirming which pumpkin each of the twins wanted.

“Can we put candles in them afterwards?” Bonnie asked hopefully as Michael dropped into the seat next to her. “They’ll make the front garden look spooky!”

Michael chuckled, loving the way that Bonnie’s eyes sparkled just like Calum’s when she was excited or happy.

“Of course we can and they really will!” Calum promised, “but why don’t you two practice drawing out your designs on these pieces of paper whilst me and daddy hollow all of these pumpkins out, yeah?”

The twins nodded gleefully, each of them grabbing a handful of pens and a sheet of paper before scribbling down their designs.

As Michael and Calum carefully hollowed out all of the pumpkins, they couldn’t help glancing up to look at the twins occasionally. It was adorable how much effort they were putting into this and it made Michael melt a little. He almost shed a tear when Tama made a mistake on his drawing, his little face dropping into a disappointed frown before Bonnie helped him fix it. The cute moment brought a thought to the front of Michael’s mind and the words. “I want another one...” spilled from his lips before he even knew what he was doing.

Calum looked confused at first, before noticing that Michael was staring loving at the twins. “Another baby?” He asked, his shocked tone masked a little by the pure fondness he had for his family.

Nodding sheepishly, Michael tried to hide his his blushing face by leaning closer to his pumpkin.

Calum lifted his husband’s chin gently until their gazes met across the table. His eyes were full of some deep emotion but his facial expression was soft. “Mike, do want another baby?” He repeated, needing to hear the confirmation.

“Yeah...” Michael replied quietly. “I know I haven’t said anything before but I’ve been thinking about it and...”

“My too.” Calum interrupted. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot too... We can discuss it more when the twins have gone to bed, yeah?”

Michael’s heart was beating so fast as he leaned across the table to peck a kiss to his husband’s lips. “Really?”

“Yeah.” Calum replied, stroking a strand of Michael’s hair out of his face. “I think it’s about time the Hood family got a bit bigger, don’t you?”

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#malum #malum blurb #malum fic #soft!malum #parents!malum #dads!malum #5sos #5sos blurb #5sos fic #dad!5sos #parent!5sos #otp: i'll never forget #my writing #spooky!sos 2019

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